And so the twenty minutes' law passed into an infinity1. We leave the wicked Bechamel clothing himself with cursing as with a garment,--the wretched creature has already sufficiently2 sullied our modest but truthful3 pages,--we leave the eager little group in the bar of the Vicuna Hotel, we leave all Bognor as we have left all Chichester and Midhurst and Haslemere and Guildford and Ripley and Putney, and follow this dear fool of a Hoopdriver of ours and his Young Lady in Grey out upon the moonlight road. How they rode! How their hearts beat together and their breath came fast, and how every shadow was anticipation5 and every noise pursuit! For all that flight Mr. Hoopdriver was in the world of Romance. Had a policeman intervened because their lamps were not lit, Hoopdriver had cut him down and ridden on, after the fashion of a hero born. Had Bechamel arisen in the way with rapiers for a duel6, Hoopdriver had fought as one to whom Agincourt was a reality and drapery a dream. It was Rescue, Elopement, Glory! And she by the side of him! He had seen her face in shadow, with the morning sunlight tangled7 in her hair, he had seen her sympathetic with that warm light in her face, he had seen her troubled and her eyes bright with tears. But what light is there lighting8 a face like hers, to compare with the soft glamour9 of the midsummer moon?
The road turned northward10, going round through the outskirts11 of Bognor, in one place dark and heavy under a thick growth of trees, then amidst villas12 again, some warm and lamplit, some white and sleeping in the moonlight; then between hedges, over which they saw broad wan13 meadows shrouded14 in a low-lying mist. They scarcely heeded15 whither they rode at first, being only anxious to get away, turning once westward16 when the spire17 of Chichester cathedral rose suddenly near them out of the dewy night, pale and intricate and high. They rode, speaking little, just a rare word now and then, at a turning, at a footfall, at a roughness in the road.
She seemed to be too intent upon escape to give much thought to him, but after the first tumult18 of the adventure, as flight passed into mere4 steady ridin@@ his mind became an enormous appreciation19 of the position. The night was a warm white silence save for the subtile running of their chains. He looked sideways at her as she sat beside him with her ankles gracefully20 ruling the treadles. Now the road turned westward, and she was a dark grey outline against the shimmer21 of the moon; and now they faced northwards, and the soft cold light passed caressingly22 over her hair and touched her brow and cheek.
There is a magic quality in moonshine; it touches all that is sweet and beautiful, and the rest of the night is hidden. It has created the fairies, whom the sunlight kills, and fairyland rises again in our hearts at the sight of it, the voices of the filmy route, and their faint, soul-piercing melodies. By the moonlight every man, dull clod though he be by day, tastes something of Endymion, takes something of the youth and strength of Enidymion, and sees the dear white goddess shining at him from his Lady's eyes. The firm substantial daylight things become ghostly and elusive23, the hills beyond are a sea of unsubstantial texture24, the world a visible spirit, the spiritual within us rises out of its darkness, loses something of its weight and body, and swims up towards heaven. This road that was a mere rutted white dust, hot underfoot, blinding to the eye, is now a soft grey silence, with the glitter of a crystal grain set starlike in its silver here and there. Overhead, riding serenely25 through the spacious26 blue, is the mother of the silence, she who has spiritualised the world, alone save for two attendant steady shining stars. And in silence under her benign27 influence, under the benediction28 of her light, rode our two wanderers side by side through the transfigured and transfiguring night.
Nowhere was the moon shining quite so brightly as in Mr. Hoopdriver's skull29. At the turnings of the road he made his decisions with an air of profound promptitude (and quite haphazard). "The Right," he would say. Or again "The Left," as one who knew. So it was that in the space of an hour they came abruptly30 down a little lane, full tilt31 upon the sea. Grey beach to the right of them and to the left, and a little white cottage fast asleep inland of a sleeping fishing-boat. "Hullo!" said Mr. Hoopdriver, sotto voce. They dismounted abruptly. Stunted32 oaks and thorns rose out of the haze33 of moonlight that was tangled in the hedge on either side.
"You are safe," said Mr. Hoopdriver, sweeping34 off his cap with an air and bowing courtly.
"Where are we?"
"SAFE."
"But WHERE?"
"Chichester Harbour." He waved his arm seaward as though it was a goal.
"Do you think they will follow us?"
"We have turned and turned again."
It seemed to Hoopdriver that he heard her sob35. She stood dimly there, holding her machine, and he, holding his, could go no nearer to her to see if she sobbed36 for weeping or for want of breath. "What are we to do now?" her voice asked.
"Are you tired?" he asked.
"I will do what has to be done."
The two black figures in the broken light were silent for a space. "Do you know," she said, "I am not afraid of you. I am sure you are honest to me. And I do not even know your name!"
He was taken with a sudden shame of his homely37 patronymic. "It's an ugly name," he said. "But you are right in trusting me. I would--I would do anything for you. . . . This is nothing."
She caught at her breath. She did not care to ask why. But compared with Bechamel!--"We take each other on trust," she said. "Do you want to know--how things are with me?"
"That man," she went on, after the assent38 of his listening silence, "promised to help and protect me. I was unhappy at home--never mind why. A stepmother--Idle, unoccupied, hindered, cramped39, that is enough, perhaps. Then he came into my life, and talked to me of art and literature, and set my brain on fire. I wanted to come out into the world, to be a human being--not a thing in a hutch. And he--"
"I know," said Hoopdriver.
"And now here I am--"
"I will do anything," said Hoopdriver.
She thought. "You cannot imagine my stepmother. No! I could not describe her--"
"I am entirely40 at your service. I will help you with all my power."
"I have lost an Illusion and found a Knight-errant." She spoke41 of Bechamel as the Illusion.
Mr. Hoopdriver felt flattered. But he had no adequate answer.
"I'm thinking," he said, full of a rapture42 of protective responsibility, " what we had best be doing. You are tired, you know. And we can't wander all night--after the day we've had."
"That was Chichester we were near?" she asked.
"If," he meditated43, with a tremble in his voice, "you would make ME your brother, MISS BEAUMONT."
"Yes?"
"We could stop there together--"
She took a minute to answer. "I am going to light these lamps," said Hoopdriver. He bent44 down to his own, and struck a match on his shoe. She looked at his face in its light, grave and intent. How could she ever have thought him common or absurd?
"But you must tell me your name--brother," she said,
"Er--Carrington," said Mr. Hoopdriver, after a momentary45 pause. Who would be Hoopdriver on a night like this?
"Christian name? MY Christian name. Well--Chris." He snapped his lamp and stood up. "If you will hold my machine, I will light yours," he said.
She came round obediently and took his machine, and for a moment they stood face to face. "My name, brother Chris," she said, "is Jessie."
He looked into her eyes, and his excitement seemed arrested. "JESSIE," he repeated slowly. The mute emotion of his face affected47 her strangely. She had to speak. "It's not such a very wonderful name, is it?" she said, with a laugh to break the intensity48.
He opened his mouth and shut it again, and, with a sudden wincing49 of his features, abruptly turned and bent down to open the lantern in front of her machine. She looked down at him, almost kneeling in front of her, with an unreasonable50 approbation51 in her eyes. It was, as I have indicated, the hour and season of the full moon.
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infinity
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| n.无限，无穷，大量 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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truthful
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| adj.真实的，说实话的，诚实的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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glamour
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| n.魔力，魅力；vt.迷住 | |
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northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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villas
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| 别墅，公馆( villa的名词复数 )； （城郊）住宅 | |
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wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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heeded
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的过去式和过去分词 )；变平，使（某物）变平( flatten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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spire
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| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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caressingly
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| 爱抚地，亲切地 | |
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elusive
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| adj.难以表达(捉摸)的；令人困惑的；逃避的 | |
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texture
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| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
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serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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benign
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| adj.善良的，慈祥的；良性的，无危险的 | |
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benediction
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| n.祝福；恩赐 | |
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skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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tilt
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| v.(使)倾侧；(使)倾斜；n.倾侧；倾斜 | |
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stunted
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| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
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haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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meditated
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| 深思，沉思，冥想( meditate的过去式和过去分词 )； 内心策划，考虑 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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49
wincing
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的现在分词 ) | |
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50
unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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51
approbation
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| n.称赞；认可 | |
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