On the third night they put-up at the comfortable old inn called the Three Nuns1. With an effort they might easily have pushed on to Mardykes Hall that night, for the distance is not more than five-and-thirty miles. But, considering her sister’s health, Lady Walsingham in planning their route had resolved against anything like a forced march.
Here the ladies took possession of the best sitting-room2; and, notwithstanding the fatigue4 of the journey, Lady Haworth sat up with her sister till near ten o’clock, chatting gaily5 about a thousand things.
Of the three sisters, Lady Walsingham was the eldest6. She had been in the habit of taking the command at home; and now, for advice and decision, her younger sisters, less prompt and courageous7 than she, were wont8, whenever in her neighbourhood, to throw upon her all the cares and agitations9 of determining what was best to be done in small things and great. It is only fair to say, in addition, that this submission11 was not by any means exacted; it was the deference12 of early habit and feebler will, for she was neither officious nor imperious.
It was now time that Lady Haworth, a good deal more fatigued13 than her sister, should take leave of her for the night.
Accordingly they kissed and bid each other good-night; and Lady Walsingham, not yet disposed to sleep, sat for some time longer in the comfortable room where they had taken tea, amusing the time with the book that had, when conversation flagged, beguiled14 the weariness of the journey. Her sister had been in her room nearly an hour, when she became herself a little sleepy. She had lighted her candle, and was going to ring for her maid, when, to her surprise, the door opened, and her sister Lady Haworth entered in a dressing-gown, looking frightened.
“My darling Mary!” exclaimed Lady Walsingham, “what is the matter? Are you well?”
“Yes, darling,” she answered, “quite well; that is, I don’t know what is the matter — I’m frightened.” She paused, listening, with her eyes turned towards the wall. “O, darling Maud, I am so frightened! I don’t know what it can be.”
“You must not be agitated15, darling; there’s nothing. You have been asleep, and I suppose you have had a dream. Were you asleep?”
Lady Haworth had caught her sister fast by the arm with both hands, and was looking wildly in her face.
“Have you heard nothing?” she asked, again looking towards the wall of the room, as if she expected to hear a voice through it.
“Nonsense, darling; you are dreaming still. Nothing; there has been nothing to hear. I have been awake ever since; if there had been anything to hear, I could not have missed it. Come, sit down. Sip16 a little of this water; you are nervous, and over-tired; and tell me plainly, like a good little soul, what is the matter; for nothing has happened here; and you ought to know that the Three Nuns is the quietest house in England; and I’m no witch, and if you won’t tell me what’s the matter, I can’t divine it.”
“Yes, of course,” said Mary, sitting down, and glancing round her wildly. “I don’t hear it now; you don’t?”
“Do, my dear Mary, tell me what you mean,” said Lady Walsingham kindly17 but firmly.
Lady Haworth was holding the still untasted glass of water in her hand.
“Yes, I’ll tell you; I have been so frightened! You are right; I had a dream, but I can scarcely remember anything of it, except the very end, when I wakened. But it was not the dream; only it was connected with what terrified me so. I was so tired when I went to bed, I thought I should have slept soundly; and indeed I fell asleep immediately; and I must have slept quietly for a good while. How long is it since I left you?”
“More than an hour.”
“Yes, I must have slept a good while; for I don’t think I have been ten minutes awake. How my dream began I don’t know. I remember only that gradually it came to this: I was standing3 in a recess18 in a panelled gallery; it was lofty, and, I thought, belonged to a handsome but old-fashioned house. I was looking straight towards the head of a wide staircase, with a great oak banister. At the top of the stairs, as near to me, about, as that window there, was a thick short column of oak, on top of which was a candlestick. There was no other light but from that one candle; and there was a lady standing beside it, looking down the stairs, with her back turned towards me; and from her gestures I should have thought speaking to people on a lower lobby, but whom from my place I could not see. I soon perceived that this lady was in great agony of mind; for she beat her breast and wrung19 her hands every now and then, and wagged her head slightly from side to side, like a person in great distraction20. But one word she said I could not hear. Nor when she struck her hand on the banister, or stamped, as she seemed to do in her pain, upon the floor, could I hear any sound. I found myself somehow waiting upon this lady, and was watching her with awe21 and sympathy. But who she was I knew not, until turning towards me I plainly saw Janet’s face, pale and covered with tears, and with such a look of agony as — O God!— I can never forget.”
“Pshaw! Mary darling, what is it but a dream! I have had a thousand more startling; it is only that you are so nervous just now.”
“But that is not all — nothing; what followed is so dreadful; for either there is something very horrible going on at Mardykes, or else I am losing my reason,” said Lady Haworth in increasing agitation10. “I wakened instantly in great alarm, but I suppose no more than I have felt a hundred times on awakening22 from a frightful23 dream. I sat up in my bed; I was thinking of ringing for Winnefred, my heart was beating so, but feeling better soon I changed my mind. All this time I heard a faint sound of a voice, as if coming through a thick wall. It came from the wall at the left side of my bed, and I fancied was that of some woman lamenting24 in a room separated from me by that thick partition. I could only perceive that it was a sound of crying mingled25 with ejaculations of misery26, or fear, or entreaty27. I listened with a painful curiosity, wondering who it could be, and what could have happened in the neighbouring rooms of the house; and as I looked and listened, I could distinguish my own name, but at first nothing more. That, of course, might have been an accident; and I knew there were many Marys in the world besides myself. But it made me more curious; and a strange thing struck me, for I was now looking at that very wall through which the sounds were coming. I saw that there was a window in it. Thinking that the rest of the wall might nevertheless be covered by another room, I drew the curtain of it and looked out. But there is no such thing. It is the outer wall the entire way along. And it is equally impossible of the other wall, for it is to the front of the house, and has two windows in it; and the wall that the head of my bed stands against has the gallery outside it all the way; for I remarked that as I came to you.”
“Tut, tut, Mary darling, nothing on earth is so deceptive28 as sound; this and fancy account for everything.”
“But hear me out; I have not told you all. I began to hear the voice more clearly, and at last quite distinctly. It was Janet’s, and she was conjuring29 you by name, as well as me, to come to her to Mardykes, without delay, in her extremity30; yes, you, just as vehemently31 as me. It was Janet’s voice. It still seemed separated by the wall, but I heard every syllable32 now; and I never heard voice or words of such anguish33. She was imploring34 of us to come on, without a moment’s delay, to Mardykes; and crying that, if we were not with her, she should go mad.”
“Well, darling,” said Lady Walsingham, “you see I’m included in this invitation as well as you, and should hate to disappoint Janet just as much; and I do assure you, in the morning you will laugh over this fancy with me; or rather, she will laugh over it with us, when we get to Mardykes. What you do want is rest, and a little sal-volatile.”
So saying she rang the bell for Lady Haworth’s maid. Having comforted her sister, and made her take the nervous specific she recommended, she went with her to her room; and taking possession of the arm-chair by the fire, she told her that she would keep her company until she was asleep, and remain long enough to be sure that the sleep was not likely to be interrupted. Lady Haworth had not been ten minutes in her bed, when she raised herself with a start to her elbow, listening with parted lips and wild eyes, her trembling fingers behind her ears. With an exclamation35 of horror, she cried,
“There it is again, upbraiding36 us! I can’t stay longer.”
She sprang from the bed, and rang the bell violently.
“Maud,” she cried in an ecstasy37 of horror, “nothing shall keep me here, whether you go or not. I will set out the moment the horses are put to. If you refuse to come, Maud, mind the responsibility is yours — listen!” and with white face and starting eyes she pointed38 to the wall. “Have you ears; don’t you hear?”
The sight of a person in extremity of terror so mysterious, might have unnerved a ruder system than Lady Walsingham’s. She was pale as she replied; for under certain circumstances those terrors which deal with the supernatural are more contagious39 than any others. Lady Walsingham still, in terms, held to her opinion; but although she tried to smile, her face showed that the panic had touched her.
“Well, dear Mary,” she said, “as you will have it so, I see no good in resisting you longer. Here, it is plain, your nerves will not suffer you to rest. Let us go then, in heaven’s name; and when you get to Mardykes Hall you will be relieved.”
All this time Lady Haworth was getting on her things, with the careless hurry of a person about to fly for her life; and Lady Walsingham issued her orders for horses, and the general preparations for resuming the journey.
It was now between ten and eleven; but the servant who rode armed with them, according to the not unnecessary usage of the times, thought that with a little judicious40 bribing41 of postboys they might easily reach Mardykes Hall before three o’clock in the morning.
When the party set forward again, Lady Haworth was comparatively tranquil42. She no longer heard the unearthly mimickry of her sister’s voice; there remained only the fear and suspense43 which that illusion or visitation had produced.
Her sister, Lady Walsingham, after a brief effort to induce something like conversation, became silent. A thin sheet of snow had covered the darkened landscape, and some light flakes44 were still dropping. Lady Walsingham struck her repeater often in the dark, and inquired the distances frequently. She was anxious to get over the ground, though by no means fatigued. Something of the anxiety that lay heavy at her sister’s heart had touched her own.
1 nuns | |
n.(通常指基督教的)修女, (佛教的)尼姑( nun的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 sitting-room | |
n.(BrE)客厅,起居室 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 fatigue | |
n.疲劳,劳累 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 gaily | |
adv.欢乐地,高兴地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 eldest | |
adj.最年长的,最年老的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 courageous | |
adj.勇敢的,有胆量的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 wont | |
adj.习惯于;v.习惯;n.习惯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 agitations | |
(液体等的)摇动( agitation的名词复数 ); 鼓动; 激烈争论; (情绪等的)纷乱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 agitation | |
n.搅动;搅拌;鼓动,煽动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 submission | |
n.服从,投降;温顺,谦虚;提出 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 deference | |
n.尊重,顺从;敬意 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 fatigued | |
adj. 疲乏的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 beguiled | |
v.欺骗( beguile的过去式和过去分词 );使陶醉;使高兴;消磨(时间等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 agitated | |
adj.被鼓动的,不安的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 sip | |
v.小口地喝,抿,呷;n.一小口的量 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 recess | |
n.短期休息,壁凹(墙上装架子,柜子等凹处) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 wrung | |
绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 ); 握紧(尤指别人的手); 把(湿衣服)拧干; 绞掉(水) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 distraction | |
n.精神涣散,精神不集中,消遣,娱乐 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 awe | |
n.敬畏,惊惧;vt.使敬畏,使惊惧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 awakening | |
n.觉醒,醒悟 adj.觉醒中的;唤醒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 frightful | |
adj.可怕的;讨厌的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 lamenting | |
adj.悲伤的,悲哀的v.(为…)哀悼,痛哭,悲伤( lament的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 mingled | |
混合,混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 ); 混进,与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 misery | |
n.痛苦,苦恼,苦难;悲惨的境遇,贫苦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 entreaty | |
n.恳求,哀求 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 deceptive | |
adj.骗人的,造成假象的,靠不住的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 conjuring | |
n.魔术 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 extremity | |
n.末端,尽头;尽力;终极;极度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 vehemently | |
adv. 热烈地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 syllable | |
n.音节;vt.分音节 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 anguish | |
n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦,烦恼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 imploring | |
恳求的,哀求的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 exclamation | |
n.感叹号,惊呼,惊叹词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 upbraiding | |
adj.& n.谴责(的)v.责备,申斥,谴责( upbraid的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 ecstasy | |
n.狂喜,心醉神怡,入迷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 contagious | |
adj.传染性的,有感染力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 judicious | |
adj.明智的,明断的,能作出明智决定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 bribing | |
贿赂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 tranquil | |
adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 suspense | |
n.(对可能发生的事)紧张感,担心,挂虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 flakes | |
小薄片( flake的名词复数 ); (尤指)碎片; 雪花; 古怪的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |