A True Bill.
And tell me who is victor, York or Warwick.
Henry vi.
THE town of Sibley was in a state of excitement. About the court-house especially the crowd was great and the interest manifested intense. The Grand Jury was in session, and the case of the Widow Clemmens was before it.
As all the proceedings2 of this body are private, the suspense3 of those interested in the issue was naturally very great. The name of the man lastly suspected of the crime had transpired4, and both Hildreth and Mansell had their partisans5, though the mystery surrounding the latter made his friends less forward in asserting his innocence6 than those of the more thoroughly7 understood Hildreth. Indeed, the ignorance felt on all sides as to the express reasons for associating the name of Mrs. Clemmens’ nephew with his aunt’s murder added much to the significance of the hour. Conjectures8 were plenty and the wonder great, but the causes why this man, or any other, should lie under a suspicion equal to that raised against Hildreth at the inquest was a mystery that none could solve.
But what is the curiosity of the rabble9 to us? Our interest is in a little room far removed from this scene of excitement, where the young daughter of Professor Darling kneels by the side of Imogene Dare, striving by caress10 and entreaty11 to win a word from her lips or a glance from her heavy eyes.
“Imogene,” she pleaded — “Imogene, what is this terrible grief? Why did you have to go to the court-house this morning with papa, and why have you been almost dead with terror and misery12 ever since you got back? Tell me, or I shall perish of mere13 fright. For weeks now, ever since you were so good as to help me with my wedding-clothes, I have seen that something dreadful was weighing upon your mind, but this which you are suffering now is awful; this I cannot bear. Cannot you speak dear? Words will do you good.”
“Words!”
Oh, the despair, the bitterness of that single exclamation14! Miss Darling drew back in dismay. As if released, Imogene rose to her feet and surveyed the sweet and ingenuous15 countenance16 uplifted to her own, with a look of faint recognition of the womanly sympathy it conveyed.
“Helen,” she resumed, “you are happy. Don’t stay here with me, but go where there are cheerfulness and hope.”
“But I cannot while you suffer so. I love you, Imogene. Would you drive me away from your side when you are so unhappy? You don’t care for me as I do for you or you could not do it.”
“Helen!” The deep tone made the sympathetic little bride-elect quiver. “Helen, some griefs are best borne alone. Only a few hours now and I shall know the worst. Leave me.”
But the gentle little creature was not to be driven away. She only clung the closer and pleaded the more earnestly:
“Tell me, tell me!”
The reiteration17 of this request was too much for the pallid18 woman before her. Laying her two hands on the shoulders of this child, she drew back and looked her earnestly in the face.
“Helen,” she cried, “what do you know of earthly anguish19? A petted child, the favorite of happy fortune, you have been kept from evil as from a blight20. None of the annoyances21 of life have been allowed to enter your path, much less its griefs and sins. Terror with you is but a name, remorse22 an unknown sensation. Even your love has no depths in it such as suffering gives. Yet, since you do love, and love well, perhaps you can understand something of what a human soul can endure who sees its only hope and only love tottering23 above a gulf24 too horrible for words to describe — a gulf, too, which her own hand —— But no, I cannot tell you. I overrated my strength. I——”
She sank back, but the next moment started again to her feet: a servant had opened the door.
“What is it!” she exclaimed; “speak, tell me.”
“Only a gentleman to see you, miss.”
“Only a ——” But she stopped in that vain repetition of the girl’s simple words, and looked at her as if she would force from her lips the name she had not the courage to demand; but, failing to obtain it, turned away to the glass, where she quietly smoothed her hair and adjusted the lace at her throat, and then catching25 sight of the tear-stained face of Helen, stooped and gave her a kiss, after which she moved mechanically to the door and went down those broad flights, one after one, till she came to the parlor26, when she went in and encountered — Mr. Orcutt.
A glance at his face told her all she wanted to know.
“Ah!” she gasped27, “it is then ——”
“Mansell!”
It was five minutes later. Imogene leaned against the window where she had withdrawn28 herself at the utterance29 of that one word. Mr. Orcutt stood a couple of paces behind her.
“Imogene,” said he, “there is a question I would like to have you answer.”
The feverish30 agitation31 expressed in his tone made her look around.
“Put it,” she mechanically replied.
But he did not find it easy to do this, while her eyes rested upon him in such despair. He felt, however, that the doubt in his mind must be satisfied at all hazards; so choking down an emotion that was almost as boundless32 as her own, he ventured to ask:
“Is it among the possibilities that you could ever again contemplate33 giving yourself in marriage to Craik Mansell, no matter what the issue of the coming trial may be?”
A shudder34 quick and powerful as that which follows the withdrawal35 of a dart36 from an agonizing37 wound shook her whole frame for a moment, but she answered, steadily38:
“No; how can you ask, Mr. Orcutt?”
A gleam of relief shot across his somewhat haggard features.
“Then,” said he, “it will be no treason in me to assure you that never has my love been greater for you than to-day. That to save you from the pain which you are suffering, I would sacrifice every thing, even my pride. If, therefore, there is any kindness I can show you, any deed I can perform for your sake, I am ready to attempt it, Imogene.
“Would you —” she hesitated, but gathered courage as she met his eye —“would you be willing to go to him with a message from me?”
His glance fell and his lips took a line that startled Imogene, but his answer, though given with bitterness was encouraging.
“Yes,” he returned; “even that.”
“Then,” she cried, “tell him that to save the innocent, I had to betray the guilty, but in doing this I did not spare myself; that whatever his doom39 may be, I shall share it, even though it be that of death.”
“Imogene!”
“Will you tell him?” she asked.
But he would not have been a man, much less a lover, if he could answer that question now. Seizing her by the arm, he looked her wildly in the face.
“Do you mean to kill yourself?” he demanded.
“I feel I shall not live,” she gasped, while her hand went involuntarily to her heart.
He gazed at her in horror.
“And if he is cleared?” he hoarsely40 ejaculated.
“I— I shall try to endure my fate.”
He gave her another long, long look.
“So this is the alternative you give me?” he bitterly exclaimed. “I must either save this man or see you perish. Well,” he declared, after a few minutes’ further contemplation of her face, “I will save this man — that is, if he will allow me to do so.”
A flash of joy such as he had not perceived on her countenance for weeks transformed its marble-like severity into something of its pristine41 beauty.
“And you will take him my message also?” she cried.
But to this he shook his head.
“If I am to approach him as a lawyer willing to undertake his cause, don’t you see I can give him no such message as that?”
“Ah, yes, yes. But you can tell him Imogene Dare has risked her own life and happiness to save the innocent.”
“I will tell him whatever I can to show your pity and your misery.”
And she had to content herself with this. In the light of the new hope that was thus unexpectedly held out to her, it did not seem so difficult. Giving Mr. Orcutt her hand, she endeavored to thank him, but the reaction from her long suspense was too much, and, for the first time in her brave young life, Imogene lost consciousness and fainted quite away.
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1
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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transpired
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| （事实，秘密等）被人知道( transpire的过去式和过去分词 )； 泄露； 显露； 发生 | |
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partisans
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| 游击队员( partisan的名词复数 )； 党人； 党羽； 帮伙 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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conjectures
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| 推测，猜想( conjecture的名词复数 ) | |
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rabble
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| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
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caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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entreaty
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| n.恳求，哀求 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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ingenuous
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| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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reiteration
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| n. 重覆, 反覆, 重说 | |
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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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blight
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| n.枯萎病；造成破坏的因素；vt.破坏，摧残 | |
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annoyances
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| n.恼怒( annoyance的名词复数 )；烦恼；打扰；使人烦恼的事 | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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tottering
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| adj.蹒跚的，动摇的v.走得或动得不稳( totter的现在分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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boundless
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| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
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contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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withdrawal
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| n.取回，提款；撤退，撤军；收回，撤销 | |
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dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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agonizing
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| adj.痛苦难忍的；使人苦恼的v.使极度痛苦；折磨(agonize的ing形式) | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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pristine
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| adj.原来的，古时的，原始的，纯净的，无垢的 | |
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