Feltram looked grim and agitated1 when Sir Bale came up to him, as he stood on the flat-stone by which the boat was moored2.
“You found him?” said he.
“Yes.”
“The lady in black was there?”
“She was.”
“And you played with him?”
“Yes.”
“And what is that in your hand?”
“A bag of something, I fancy money; it is heavy; he threw it after me. We shall see just now; let us get away.”
“He gave you some of his wine to drink?” said Feltram, looking darkly in his face; but there was a laugh in his eyes.
“Yes; of course I drank it; my object was to please him.”
“To be sure.”
The faint wind that carried them across the lake had quite subsided3 by the time they had reached the side where they now were.
There was now not wind enough to fill the sail, and it was already evening.
“Give me an oar4; we can pull her over in little more than an hour,” said Sir Bale; “only let us get away.”
He got into the boat, sat down, and placed the leather bag with its heavy freightage at his feet, and took an oar. Feltram loosed the rope and shoved the boat off; and taking his seat also, they began to pull together, without another word, until, in about ten minutes, they had got a considerable way off the Cloostedd shore.
The leather bag was too clumsy a burden to conceal5; besides, Feltram knew all about the transaction, and Sir Bale had no need to make a secret. The bag was old and soiled, and tied about the “neck” with a long leather thong6, and it seemed to have been sealed with red wax, fragments of which were still sticking to it.
He got it open, and found it full of guineas.
“Halt!” cried Sir Bale, delighted, for he had half apprehended7 a trick upon his hopes; “gold it is, and a lot of it, by Jove!”
Feltram did not seem to take the slightest interest in the matter. Sulkily and drowsily8 he was leaning with his elbow on his knee, and it seemed thinking of something far away. Sir Bale could not wait to count them any longer. He reckoned them on the bench, and found two thousand.
It took some time; and when he had got them back into the leather bag, and tied them up again, Feltram, with a sudden start, said sharply,
“Come, take your oar — unless you like the lake by night; and see, a wind will soon be up from Golden Friars!”
He cast a wild look towards Mardykes Hall and Snakes Island, and applying himself to his oar, told Sir Bale to take his also; and nothing loath9, the Baronet did so.
It was slow work, for the boat was not built for speed; and by the time they had got about midway, the sun went down, and twilight10 and the melancholy11 flush of the sunset tints12 were upon the lake and fells.
“Ho! here comes the breeze — up from Golden Friars,” said Feltram; “we shall have enough to fill the sails now. If you don’t fear spirits and Snakes Island, it is all the better for us it should blow from that point. If it blew from Mardykes now, it would be a stiff pull for you and me to get this tub home.”
Talking as if to himself, and laughing low, he adjusted the sail and took the tiller, and so, yielding to the rising breeze, the boat glided13 slowly toward still distant Mardykes Hall.
The moon came out, and the shore grew misty14, and the towering fells rose like sheeted giants; and leaning on the gunwale of the boat, Sir Bale, with the rush and gurgle of the water on the boat’s side sounding faintly in his ear, thought of his day’s adventure, which seemed to him like a dream — incredible but for the heavy bag that lay between his feet.
As they passed Snakes Island, a little mist, like a fragment of a fog, seemed to drift with them, and Sir Bale fancied that whenever it came near the boat’s side she made a dip, as if strained toward the water; and Feltram always put out his hand, as if waving it from him, and the mist seemed to obey the gesture; but returned again and again, and the same thing always happened.
It was three weeks after, that Sir Bale, sitting up in his bed, very pale and wan15, with his silk night-cap nodding on one side, and his thin hand extended on the coverlet, where the doctor had been feeling his pulse, in his darkened room, related all the wonders of this day to Doctor Torvey. The doctor had attended him through a fever which followed immediately upon his visit to Cloostedd.
“And, my dear sir, by Jupiter, can you really believe all that delirium16 to be sober fact?” said the doctor, sitting by the bedside, and actually laughing.
“I can’t help believing it, because I can’t distinguish in any way between all that and everything else that actually happened, and which I must believe. And, except that this is more wonderful, I can find no reason to reject it, that does not as well apply to all the rest.”
“Come, come, my dear sir, this will never do — nothing is more common. These illusions accompanying fever frequently antedate17 the attack, and the man is actually raving18 before he knows he is ill.”
“But what do you make of that bag of gold?”
“Some one has lent it. You had better ask all about it of Feltram when you can see him; for in speaking to me he seemed to know all about it, and certainly did not seem to think the matter at all out of the commonplace. It is just like that fisherman’s story, about the hand that drew Feltram into the water on the night that he was nearly drowned. Every one can see what that was. Why of course it was simply the reflection of his own hand in the water, in that vivid lightning. When you have been out a little and have gained strength you will shake off these dreams.”
“I should not wonder,” said Sir Bale.
It is not to be supposed that Sir Bale reported all that was in his memory respecting his strange vision, if such it was, at Cloostedd. He made a selection of the incidents, and threw over the whole adventure an entirely19 accidental character, and described the money which the old man had thrown to him as amounting to a purse of five guineas, and mentioned nothing of the passages which bore on the coming race.
Good Doctor Torvey, therefore, reported only that Sir Bale’s delirium had left two or three illusions sticking in his memory.
But if they were illusions, they survived the event of his recovery, and remained impressed on his memory with the sharpness of very recent and accurately20 observed fact.
He was resolved on going to the races of Rindermere, where, having in his possession so weighty a guarantee as the leather purse, he was determined21 to stake it all boldly on Rainbow — against which horse he was glad to hear there were very heavy odds22.
The race came off. One horse was scratched, another bolted, the rider of a third turned out to have lost a buckle23 and three half-pence and so was an ounce and a half under weight, a fourth knocked down the post near Rinderness churchyard, and was held to have done it with his left instead of his right knee, and so had run at the wrong side. The result was that Rainbow came in first, and I should be afraid to say how much Sir Bale won. It was a sum that paid off a heavy debt, and left his affairs in a much more manageable state.
From this time Sir Bale prospered24. He visited Cloostedd no more; but Feltram often crossed to that lonely shore as heretofore, and it is believed conveyed to him messages which guided his betting. One thing is certain, his luck never deserted25 him. His debts disappeared; and his love of continental26 life seemed to have departed. He became content with Mardykes Hall, laid out money on it, and although he never again cared to cross the lake, he seemed to like the scenery.
In some respects, however, he lived exactly the same odd and unpopular life. He saw no one at Mardykes Hall. He practised a very strict reserve. The neighbours laughed at and disliked him, and he was voted, whenever any accidental contact arose, a very disagreeable man; and he had a shrewd and ready sarcasm27 that made them afraid of him, and himself more disliked.
Odd rumours28 prevailed about his household. It was said that his old relations with Philip Feltram had become reversed; and that he was as meek29 as a mouse, and Feltram the bully30 now. It was also said that Mrs. Julaper had one Sunday evening when she drank tea at the Vicar’s, told his good lady very mysteriously, and with many charges of secrecy31, that Sir Bale was none the better of his late-found wealth; that he had a load upon his spirits, that he was afraid of Feltram, and so was every one else, more or less, in the house; that he was either mad or worse; and that it was an eerie32 dwelling33, and strange company, and she should be glad herself of a change.
Good Mrs. Bedel told her friend Mrs. Torvey; and all Golden Friars heard all this, and a good deal more, in an incredibly short time.
All kinds of rumours now prevailed in Golden Friars, connecting Sir Bale’s successes on the turf with some mysterious doings in Cloostedd Forest. Philip Feltram laughed when he heard these stories — especially when he heard the story that a supernatural personage had lent the Baronet a purse full of money.
“You should not talk to Doctor Torvey so, sir,” said he grimly; “he’s the greatest tattler in the town. It was old Farmer Trebeck, who could buy and sell us all down here, who lent that money. Partly from good-will, but not without acknowledgment. He has my hand for the first, not worth much, and yours to a bond for the two thousand guineas you brought home with you. It seems strange you should not remember that venerable and kind old farmer whom you talked with so long that day. His grandson, who expects to stand well in his will, being a trainer in Lord Varney’s stables, has sometimes a tip to give, and he is the source of your information.”
“By Jove, I must be a bit mad, then, that’s all,” said Sir Bale, with a smile and a shrug34.
Philip Feltram moped about the house, and did precisely35 what he pleased. The change which had taken place in him became more and more pronounced. Dark and stern he always looked, and often malignant36. He was like a man possessed37 of one evil thought which never left him.
There was, besides, the good old Gothic superstition38 of a bargain or sale of the Baronet’s soul to the arch-fiend. This was, of course, very cautiously whispered in a place where he had influence. It was only a coarser and directer version of a suspicion, that in a more credulous39 generation penetrated40 a level of society quite exempt41 from such follies42 in our day.
One evening at dusk, Sir Bale, sitting after his dinner in his window, saw the tall figure of Feltram, like a dark streak43, standing44 movelessly by the lake. An unpleasant feeling moved him, and then an impatience45. He got up, and having primed himself with two glasses of brandy, walked down to the edge of the lake, and placed himself beside Feltram.
“Looking down from the window,” said he, nerved with his Dutch courage, “and seeing you standing like a post, do you know what I began to think of?”
Feltram looked at him, but answered nothing.
“I began to think of taking a wife — marrying.”
Feltram nodded. The announcement had not produced the least effect.
“Why the devil will you make me so uncomfortable! Can’t you be like yourself — what you were, I mean? I won’t go on living here alone with you. I’ll take a wife, I tell you. I’ll choose a good church-going woman, that will have every man, woman, and child in the house on their marrow-bones twice a day, morning and evening, and three times on Sundays. How will you like that?”
“Yes, you will be married,” said Feltram, with a quiet decision which chilled Sir Bale, for he had by no means made up his mind to that desperate step.
Feltram slowly walked away, and that conversation ended.
Now an odd thing happened about this time. There was a family of Feltram — county genealogists could show how related to the vanished family of Cloostedd — living at that time on their estate not far from Carlisle. Three coheiresses now represented it. They were great beauties — the belles46 of their county in their day.
One was married to Sir Oliver Haworth of Haworth, a great family in those times. He was a knight47 of the shire, and had refused a baronetage, and, it was said, had his eye on a peerage. The other sister was married to Sir William Walsingham, a wealthy baronet; and the third and youngest, Miss Janet, was still unmarried, and at home at Cloudesly Hall, where her aunt, Lady Harbottle, lived with her, and made a dignified48 chaperon.
Now it so fell out that Sir Bale, having business at Carlisle, and knowing old Lady Harbottle, paid his respects at Cloudesly Hall; and being no less than five-and-forty years of age, was for the first time in his life, seriously in love.
Miss Janet was extremely pretty — a fair beauty with brilliant red lips and large blue eyes, and ever so many pretty dimples when she talked and smiled. It was odd, but not perhaps against the course of nature, that a man, though so old as he, and quite blasé, should fall at last under that fascination49.
But what are we to say of the strange infatuation of the young lady? No one could tell why she liked him. It was a craze. Her family were against it, her intimates, her old nurse — all would not do; and the oddest thing was, that he seemed to take no pains to please her. The end of this strange courtship was that he married her; and she came home to Mardykes Hall, determined to please everybody, and to be the happiest woman in England.
With her came a female cousin, a good deal her senior, past thirty — Gertrude Mainyard, pale and sad, but very gentle, and with all the prettiness that can belong to her years.
This young lady has a romance. Her hero is far away in India; and she, content to await his uncertain return with means to accomplish the hope of their lives, in that frail50 chance has long embarked51 all the purpose and love of her life.
When Lady Mardykes came home, a new leaf was, as the phrase is, turned over. The neighbours and all the country people were willing to give the Hall a new trial. There was visiting and returning of visits; and young Lady Mardykes was liked and admired. It could not indeed have been otherwise. But here the improvement in the relations of Mardykes Hall with other homes ceased. On one excuse or another Sir Bale postponed52 or evaded53 the hospitalities which establish intimacies54. Some people said he was jealous of his young and beautiful wife. But for the most part his reserve was set down to the old inhospitable cause, some ungenial defect in his character; and in a little time the tramp of horses and roll of carriage-wheels were seldom heard up or down the broad avenue of Mardykes Hall.
Sir Bale liked this seclusion55; and his wife, “so infatuated with her idolatry of that graceless old man,” as surrounding young ladies said, that she was well content to forego the society of the county people for a less interrupted enjoyment56 of that of her husband. “What she could see in him” to interest or amuse her so, that for his sake she was willing to be “buried alive in that lonely place,” the same critics were perpetually wondering.
A year and more passed thus; for the young wife, happily — very happily indeed, had it not been for one topic on which she and her husband could not agree. This was Philip Feltram; and an odd quarrel it was.
收听单词发音 |
1
agitated
|
|
| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
moored
|
|
| adj. 系泊的 动词moor的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
subsided
|
|
| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
oar
|
|
| n.桨，橹，划手；v.划行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
conceal
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
thong
|
|
| n.皮带；皮鞭；v.装皮带 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
apprehended
|
|
| 逮捕，拘押( apprehend的过去式和过去分词 )； 理解 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
drowsily
|
|
| adv.睡地，懒洋洋地，昏昏欲睡地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
loath
|
|
| adj.不愿意的；勉强的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
twilight
|
|
| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
tints
|
|
| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
glided
|
|
| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
misty
|
|
| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
wan
|
|
| (wide area network)广域网 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
delirium
|
|
| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
antedate
|
|
| vt.填早...的日期，早干，先干 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
raving
|
|
| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
accurately
|
|
| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
odds
|
|
| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
buckle
|
|
| n.扣子，带扣；v.把...扣住，由于压力而弯曲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
prospered
|
|
| 成功，兴旺( prosper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
continental
|
|
| adj.大陆的，大陆性的，欧洲大陆的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
sarcasm
|
|
| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
rumours
|
|
| n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 )；风闻；谣言；谣传 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
meek
|
|
| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
bully
|
|
| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
secrecy
|
|
| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
eerie
|
|
| adj.怪诞的；奇异的；可怕的；胆怯的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
dwelling
|
|
| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
shrug
|
|
| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
malignant
|
|
| adj.恶性的，致命的；恶意的，恶毒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
superstition
|
|
| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
credulous
|
|
| adj.轻信的，易信的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
penetrated
|
|
| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
exempt
|
|
| adj.免除的；v.使免除；n.免税者，被免除义务者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
follies
|
|
| 罪恶，时事讽刺剧； 愚蠢，蠢笨，愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
streak
|
|
| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
impatience
|
|
| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
belles
|
|
| n.美女( belle的名词复数 )；最美的美女 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
knight
|
|
| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
dignified
|
|
| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
fascination
|
|
| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
frail
|
|
| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
embarked
|
|
| 乘船( embark的过去式和过去分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
postponed
|
|
| vt.& vi.延期，缓办，（使）延迟vt.把…放在次要地位；[语]把…放在后面（或句尾）vi.（疟疾等）延缓发作（或复发） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
evaded
|
|
| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
intimacies
|
|
| 亲密( intimacy的名词复数 )； 密切； 亲昵的言行； 性行为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
seclusion
|
|
| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
enjoyment
|
|
| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |