This new alliance with Mrs. Busk not only refreshed my courage, but helped me forward most importantly. In truth, if it had not been for this I never could have borne what I had to bear, and met the perils2 which I had to meet. For I had the confidence of feeling now that here was some one close at hand, an intelligent person, and well acquainted with the place and neighborhood, upon whom I could rely for warning, succor3, and, if the worst should come to the very worst, revenge. It is true that already I had Jacob Rigg, and perhaps the protector promised by my cousin; but the former was as ignorant as he was honest, and of the latter, as he made no sign, how could I tell any thing?
Above all things, Mrs. Busk’s position, as mistress of the letters, gave me very great advantage both for offense4 and defense5. For without the smallest breach6 of duty or of loyal honor she could see that my letters passed direct to me or from me, as the case might be, at the same time that she was bound to observe all epistles addressed to strangers or new-comers in her district, which extended throughout the valley. And by putting my letters in the Portsmouth bag, instead of that for Winchester, I could freely correspond with any of my friends without any one seeing name or postmark in the neighboring villages.
It is needless to say that I had long since explored and examined with great diligence that lonely spot where my grandfather met his terrible and mysterious fate. Not that there seemed to be any hope now, after almost nineteen years, of finding even any token of the crime committed there. Only that it was natural for me, feeling great horror of this place, to seek to know it thoroughly7.
For this I had good opportunity, because the timid people of the valley, toward the close of day, would rather trudge8 another half mile of the homeward road than save brave legs at the thumping9 cost of hearts not so courageous10. For the planks11 were now called “Murder-bridge;” and every body knew that the red spots on it, which could never be seen by daylight, began to gleam toward the hour of the deed, and glowed (as if they would burn the wood) when the church clock struck eleven.
This phenomenon was beyond my gifts of observation; and knowing that my poor grandfather had scarcely set foot on the bridge, if ever he set foot there at all — which at present was very doubtful — also that he had fallen backward, and only bled internally, I could not reconcile tradition (however recent) with proven truth. And sure of no disturbance13 from the step of any native, here I often sat in a little bowered14 shelter of my own, well established up the rise, down which the path made zigzag15, and screened from that and the bridge as well by sheaf of twigs17 and lop of leaves. It was a little forward thicket18, quite detached from the upland copse, to which perhaps it had once belonged, and crusted up from the meadow slope with sod and mould in alternate steps. And being quite the elbow of a foreland of the meadow-reach, it yielded almost a “bird’s-eye view” of the beautiful glade19 and the wandering brook20.
One evening when I was sitting here, neither drawing, nor working, nor even thinking with any set purpose, but idly allowing my mind to rove, like the rivulet21, without any heed22, I became aware of a moving figure in the valley. At first it did not appear to me as a thing at all worth notice; it might be a very straightforward23 cow, or a horse, coming on like a stalking-horse, keeping hind-legs strictly24 behind, in direct desire of water. I had often seen those sweet things that enjoy four legs walking in the line of distance as if they were no better off than we are, kindly25 desiring, perhaps, to make the biped spectator content with himself. And I was content to admire this cow or horse, or whatever it might be, without any more than could be helped of that invidious feeling which has driven the human race now to establish its right to a tail, and its hope of four legs. So little, indeed, did I think of what I saw, that when among the hazel twigs, parted carelessly by my hand, a cluster of nuts hung manifest, I gathered it, and began to crack and eat, although they were scarcely ripe yet.
But while employed in this pleasant way, I happened to glance again through my leafy screen, and then I distinguished27 the figure in the distance as that of a man walking rapidly. He was coming down the mill-stream meadow toward the wooden bridge, carrying a fishing rod, but clearly not intent on angling. For instead of following the course of the stream, he was keeping quite away from it, avoiding also the footpath28, or, at any rate, seeming to prefer the long shadows of the trees and the tufted places. This made me look at him, and very soon I shrank into my nest and watched him.
As he came nearer any one could tell that he was no village workman, bolder than the rest, and venturesome to cross the “Murder-bridge” in his haste to be at home. The fishing rod alone was enough to show this when it came into clearer view; for our good people, though they fished sometimes, only used rough rods of their own making, without any varnish29 or brass30 thing for the line. And the man was of different height and walk and dress from any of our natives.
“Who can he be?” I whispered to myself, as my heart began to beat heavily, and then seemed almost to stop, as it answered, “This is the man who was in the churchyard.” Ignoble31 as it was, and contemptible32, and vile33, and traitorous34 to all duty, my first thought was about my own escape; for I felt that if this man saw me there he would rush up the hill and murder me. Within pistol-shot of the very place where my grandfather had been murdered — a lonely place, an unholy spot, and I was looking at the hand that did it.
The thought of this made me tremble so, though well aware that my death might ensue from a twig16 on the rustle35, or a leaf upon the flutter, that my chance of making off unseen was gone ere I could seize it. For now the man was taking long strides over the worn-out planks of the bridge, disdaining36 the hand-rail, and looking upward, as if to shun37 sight of the footing. Advancing thus, he must have had his gaze point-blank upon my lair38 of leafage; but, luckily for me, there was gorse upon the ridge12, and bracken and rag-thistles, so that none could spy up and through the footing of my lurking-place. But if any person could have spied me, this man was the one to do it. So carefully did he scan the distance and inspect the foreground, as if he were resolved that no eye should be upon him while he was doing what he came to do. And he even drew forth39 a little double telescope, such as are called “binoculars,” and fixed40 it on the thicket which hid me from him, and then on some other dark places.
No effort would compose or hush41 the heavy beating of my heart; my lips were stiffened42 with dread43 of loud breath, and all power of motion left me. For even a puff44 of wind might betray me, the ruffle45 of a spray, or the lifting of a leaf, or the random46 bounce of a beetle47. Great peril1 had encompassed48 me ere now, but never had it grasped me as this did, and paralyzed all the powers of my body. Rather would I have stood in the midst of a score of Mexican rovers than thus in the presence of that one man. And yet was not this the very thing for which I had waited, longed, and labored49? I scorned myself for this craven loss of nerve, but that did not enable me to help it. In this benumbed horror I durst not even peep at the doings of my enemy; but presently I became aware that he had moved from the end of the planks (where he stood for some time as calmly as if he had done nothing there), and had passed round the back of the hawthorn51-tree, and gone down to the place where the body was found, and was making most narrow and minute search there. And now I could watch him without much danger, standing52 as I did well above him, while his eyes were steadfastly53 bent54 downward. And, not content with eyesight only, he seemed to be feeling every blade of grass or weed, every single stick or stone, craning into each cranny of the ground, and probing every clod with his hands. Then, after vainly searching with the very utmost care all the space from the hawthorn trunk to the meadow-leet (which was dry as usual), he ran, in a fury of impatience55, to his rod, which he had stuck into the bank, as now I saw, and drew off the butt56 end, and removed the wheel, or whatever it is that holds the fishing line; and this butt had a long spike57 to it, shining like a halberd in a picture.
This made me shudder58; but my spirit was returning, and therewith my power of reasoning, and a deep stir of curiosity. After so many years and such a quantity of searching, what could there still be left to seek for in this haunted and horrible place? And who was the man that was looking for it?
The latter question partly solved itself. It must be the murderer, and no other, whoever he might be among the many black spots of humanity. But as to the other point, no light could be thrown upon it, unless the search should be successful, and perhaps not even then. But now this anxiety, and shame of terror, made me so bold — for I can not call it brave — that I could not rest satisfied where I was, and instead of blessing59 every leaf and twig that hid me from the enemy, nothing would do for me but to creep nearer, in spite of that truculent60 long bright spike.
I thought of my father, and each fibre of my frame seemed to harden with vigor61 and fleetness. Every muscle of my body could be trusted now. I had always been remarkably62 light of foot. Could a man of that age catch me? It was almost as much as Firm Gundry could do, as in childish days I had proved to him. And this man, although his hair was not gray, must be on the slow side of fifty now, and perhaps getting short of his very wicked breath. Then I thought of poor Firm, and of good Uncle Sam, and how they scorned poltroonery63; and, better still, I thought of that great Power which always had protected me: in a word, I resolved to risk it.
But I had not reckoned upon fire-arms, which such a scoundrel was pretty sure to have; and that idea struck cold upon my valor64. Nevertheless, I would not turn back. With no more sound than a field-mouse makes in the building of its silken nest, and feet as light as the step of the wind upon the scarcely ruffled65 grass, I quitted my screen, and went gliding66 down a hedge, or rather the residue67 of some old hedge, which would shelter me a little toward the hollow of the banks. I passed low places, where the man must have seen me if he had happened to look up; but he was stooping with his back to me, and working in the hollow of the dry water trough. He was digging with the long spike of his rod, and I heard the rattle68 of each pebble69 that he struck.
Before he stood up again, to ease his back and to look at the ground which he still had to turn, I was kneeling behind a short, close-branched holly70, the very last bush of the hedge-row, scarcely fifteen yards from the hawthorn-tree. It was quite impossible to get nearer without coming face to face with him. And now I began again to tremble, but with a great effort conquered it.
The man was panting with his labor50, and seemed to be in a vile temper too. He did not swear, but made low noises full of disappointment. And then he caught up his tool, with a savage71 self-control, and fell to again.
Now was my time to see what he was like, and engrave72 him on my memory. But, lo! in a moment I need not do that. The face was the bad image of my father’s. A lowered, and vicious, and ill-bred image of a noble countenance73 — such as it was just possible to dream that my dear father’s might have fallen to, if his mind and soul had plunged74 away from the good inborn75 and implanted in them. The figure was that of a tall strong man, with shoulders rather slouching, and a habit of keeping his head thrown back, which made a long chin look longer. Altogether he seemed a perilous76 foe77, and perhaps a friend still more perilous.
Be he what he might, he was working very hard. Not one of all Uncle Sam’s men, to my knowledge, least of all Martin, would have worked so hard. With his narrow and ill-adapted tool he contrived78 to turn over, in less than twenty minutes, the entire bed of the meadow-leet, or trough, for a length of about ten yards. Then he came to the mouth, where the water of the main stream lapped back into it, and he turned up the bottom as far as he could reach, and waited for the mud he had raised to clear away. When this had flowed down with the stream, he walked in for some little distance till the pool grew deep; but in spite of all his labor, there was nothing.
Meanwhile the sunset glow was failing, and a gray autumnal haze26 crept up the tranquil79 valley. Shadows waned80 and faded into dimness more diffuse81, and light grew soft and vague and vaporous. The gleam of water, and the gloss82 of grass, and deep relief of trees, began to lose their several phase and mingle83 into one large twilight84 blend. And cattle, from their milking sheds, came lowing for more pasture; and the bark of a shepherd’s dog rang quick, as if his sheep were drowsy85.
In the midst of innocent sights and sounds that murderer’s heart misgave86 him. He left his vain quest off, and gazed, with fear and hate of nature’s beauty, at the change from day to night which had not waited for him. Some touch of his childhood moved him perhaps, some thought of times when he played “I spy,” or listened to twilight ghost tales; at any rate, as he rose and faced the evening, he sighed heavily.
Then he strode away; and although he passed me almost within length of his rod, there was little fear of his discovering me, because his mind was elsewhere.
It will, perhaps, be confessed by all who are not as brave as lions that so far I had acquitted87 myself pretty well in this trying matter. Horribly scared as I was at first, I had not allowed this to conquer me, but had even rushed into new jeopardy88. But now the best part of my courage was spent; and when the tall stranger refixed his rod and calmly recrossed those ominous89 planks, I durst not set forth on the perilous errand of spying out his ways and tracking him. A glance was enough to show the impossibility in those long meadows of following without being seen in this stage of the twilight. Moreover, my nerves had been tried too long, and presence of mind could not last forever. All I could do, therefore, was to creep as far as the trunk of the hawthorn-tree, and thence observe that my enemy did not return by the way he had come, but hastened down the dusky valley.
One part of his labors90 has not been described, though doubtless a highly needful one. To erase91 the traces of his work, or at least obscure them to a careless eye, when he had turned as much ground as he thought it worth his while to meddle92 with, he trod it back again to its level as nearly as might be, and then (with a can out of his fishing basket) sluiced93 the place well with the water of the stream. This made it look to any heedless person, who would not descend94 to examine it, as if there had been nothing more than a little reflux from the river, caused by a flush from the mill-pond. This little stratagem95 increased my fear of a cunning and active villain96.
1 peril | |
n.(严重的)危险;危险的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 perils | |
极大危险( peril的名词复数 ); 危险的事(或环境) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 succor | |
n.援助,帮助;v.给予帮助 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 offense | |
n.犯规,违法行为;冒犯,得罪 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 defense | |
n.防御,保卫;[pl.]防务工事;辩护,答辩 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 breach | |
n.违反,不履行;破裂;vt.冲破,攻破 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 trudge | |
v.步履艰难地走;n.跋涉,费力艰难的步行 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 thumping | |
adj.重大的,巨大的;重击的;尺码大的;极好的adv.极端地;非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词);狠打;怦怦地跳;全力支持 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 courageous | |
adj.勇敢的,有胆量的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 planks | |
(厚)木板( plank的名词复数 ); 政纲条目,政策要点 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 ridge | |
n.山脊;鼻梁;分水岭 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 disturbance | |
n.动乱,骚动;打扰,干扰;(身心)失调 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 bowered | |
adj.凉亭的,有树荫的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 zigzag | |
n.曲折,之字形;adj.曲折的,锯齿形的;adv.曲折地,成锯齿形地;vt.使曲折;vi.曲折前行 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 twig | |
n.小树枝,嫩枝;v.理解 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 twigs | |
细枝,嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 thicket | |
n.灌木丛,树林 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 glade | |
n.林间空地,一片表面有草的沼泽低地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 brook | |
n.小河,溪;v.忍受,容让 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 rivulet | |
n.小溪,小河 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 heed | |
v.注意,留意;n.注意,留心 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 straightforward | |
adj.正直的,坦率的;易懂的,简单的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 strictly | |
adv.严厉地,严格地;严密地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 haze | |
n.霾,烟雾;懵懂,迷糊;vi.(over)变模糊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 footpath | |
n.小路,人行道 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 varnish | |
n.清漆;v.上清漆;粉饰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 brass | |
n.黄铜;黄铜器,铜管乐器 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 ignoble | |
adj.不光彩的,卑鄙的;可耻的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 contemptible | |
adj.可鄙的,可轻视的,卑劣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 vile | |
adj.卑鄙的,可耻的,邪恶的;坏透的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 traitorous | |
adj. 叛国的, 不忠的, 背信弃义的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 rustle | |
v.沙沙作响;偷盗(牛、马等);n.沙沙声声 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 disdaining | |
鄙视( disdain的现在分词 ); 不屑于做,不愿意做 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 shun | |
vt.避开,回避,避免 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 lair | |
n.野兽的巢穴;躲藏处 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 hush | |
int.嘘,别出声;n.沉默,静寂;v.使安静 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 stiffened | |
加强的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 dread | |
vt.担忧,忧虑;惧怕,不敢;n.担忧,畏惧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 puff | |
n.一口(气);一阵(风);v.喷气,喘气 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 ruffle | |
v.弄皱,弄乱;激怒,扰乱;n.褶裥饰边 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 random | |
adj.随机的;任意的;n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 beetle | |
n.甲虫,近视眼的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 encompassed | |
v.围绕( encompass的过去式和过去分词 );包围;包含;包括 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 labored | |
adj.吃力的,谨慎的v.努力争取(for)( labor的过去式和过去分词 );苦干;详细分析;(指引擎)缓慢而困难地运转 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 labor | |
n.劳动,努力,工作,劳工;分娩;vi.劳动,努力,苦干;vt.详细分析;麻烦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 hawthorn | |
山楂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 steadfastly | |
adv.踏实地,不变地;岿然;坚定不渝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 impatience | |
n.不耐烦,急躁 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 butt | |
n.笑柄;烟蒂;枪托;臀部;v.用头撞或顶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 spike | |
n.长钉,钉鞋;v.以大钉钉牢,使...失效 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 shudder | |
v.战粟,震动,剧烈地摇晃;n.战粟,抖动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 blessing | |
n.祈神赐福;祷告;祝福,祝愿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 truculent | |
adj.野蛮的,粗野的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 vigor | |
n.活力,精力,元气 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 remarkably | |
ad.不同寻常地,相当地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 poltroonery | |
n.怯懦,胆小 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 valor | |
n.勇气,英勇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 ruffled | |
adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 gliding | |
v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 residue | |
n.残余,剩余,残渣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 rattle | |
v.飞奔,碰响;激怒;n.碰撞声;拨浪鼓 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 pebble | |
n.卵石,小圆石 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 holly | |
n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 savage | |
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 engrave | |
vt.(在...上)雕刻,使铭记,使牢记 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 countenance | |
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 plunged | |
v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 inborn | |
adj.天生的,生来的,先天的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 perilous | |
adj.危险的,冒险的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 foe | |
n.敌人,仇敌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 contrived | |
adj.不自然的,做作的;虚构的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 tranquil | |
adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 waned | |
v.衰落( wane的过去式和过去分词 );(月)亏;变小;变暗淡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 diffuse | |
v.扩散;传播;adj.冗长的;四散的,弥漫的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 gloss | |
n.光泽,光滑;虚饰;注释;vt.加光泽于;掩饰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 mingle | |
vt.使混合,使相混;vi.混合起来;相交往 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 twilight | |
n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 drowsy | |
adj.昏昏欲睡的,令人发困的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 misgave | |
v.使(某人的情绪、精神等)疑虑,担忧,害怕( misgive的过去式 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 acquitted | |
宣判…无罪( acquit的过去式和过去分词 ); 使(自己)作出某种表现 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 jeopardy | |
n.危险;危难 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 ominous | |
adj.不祥的,不吉的,预兆的,预示的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 labors | |
v.努力争取(for)( labor的第三人称单数 );苦干;详细分析;(指引擎)缓慢而困难地运转 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 erase | |
v.擦掉;消除某事物的痕迹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 meddle | |
v.干预,干涉,插手 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 sluiced | |
v.冲洗( sluice的过去式和过去分词 );(指水)喷涌而出;漂净;给…安装水闸 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 descend | |
vt./vi.传下来,下来,下降 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 stratagem | |
n.诡计,计谋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 villain | |
n.反派演员,反面人物;恶棍;问题的起因 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |