“Well, my good man,” said Meekin, soothingly1, “so you wanted to see me.”
“I asked for the chaplain,” said Rufus Dawes, his anger with himself growing apace. “I am the chaplain,” returned Meekin, with dignity, as who should say —“none of your brandy-drinking, pea-jacketed Norths, but a Respectable chaplain who is the friend of a Bishop2!”
“I thought that Mr. North was —”
“Mr. North has left, sir,” said Meekin, dryly, “but I will hear what you have to say. There is no occasion to go, constable3; wait outside the door.”
Rufus Dawes shifted himself on the wooden bench, and resting his scarcely-healed back against the wall, smiled bitterly. “Don’t be afraid, sir; I am not going to harm you,” he said. “I only wanted to talk a little.”
“Do you read your Bible, Dawes?” asked Meekin, by way of reply. “It would be better to read your Bible than to talk, I think. You must humble4 yourself in prayer, Dawes.”
“I have read it,” said Dawes, still lying back and watching him.
“But is your mind softened5 by its teachings? Do you realize the Infinite Mercy of God, Who has compassion6, Dawes, upon the greatest sinners?” The convict made a move of impatience7. The old, sickening, barren cant8 of piety9 was to be recommenced then. He came asking for bread, and they gave him the usual stone.
“Do you believe that there is a God, Mr. Meekin?”
“Abandoned sinner! Do you insult a clergyman by such a question?”
“Because I think sometimes that if there is, He must often be dissatisfied at the way things are done here,” said Dawes, half to himself.
“I can listen to no mutinous10 observations, prisoner,” said Meekin. “Do not add blasphemy11 to your other crimes. I fear that all conversation with you, in your present frame of mind, would be worse than useless. I will mark a few passages in your Bible, that seem to me appropriate to your condition, and beg you to commit them to memory. Hailes, the door, if you please.”
So, with a bow, the “consoler” departed.
Rufus Dawes felt his heart grow sick. North had gone, then. The only man who had seemed to have a heart in his bosom12 had gone. The only man who had dared to clasp his horny and blood-stained hand, and call him “brother”, had gone. Turning his head, he saw through the window — wide open and unbarred, for Nature, at Port Arthur, had no need of bars — the lovely bay, smooth as glass, glittering in the afternoon sun, the long quay13, spotted14 with groups of parti-coloured chain-gangs, and heard, mingling15 with the soft murmur16 of the waves, and the gentle rustling17 of the trees, the never-ceasing clashing of irons, and the eternal click of hammer. Was he to be for ever buried in this whitened sepulchre, shut out from the face of Heaven and mankind!
The appearance of Hailes broke his reverie. “Here’s a book for you,” said he, with a grin. “Parson sent it.”
Rufus Dawes took the Bible, and, placing it on his knees, turned to the places indicated by slips of paper, embracing some twenty marked texts.
“Parson says he’ll come and hear you to-morrer, and you’re to keep the book clean.”
“Keep the book clean!” and “hear him!” Did Meekin think that he was a charity school boy? The utter incapacity of the chaplain to understand his wants was so sublime18 that it was nearly ridiculous enough to make him laugh. He turned his eyes downwards19 to the texts. Good Meekin, in the fullness of his stupidity, had selected the fiercest denunciations of bard20 and priest. The most notable of the Psalmist’s curses upon his enemies, the most furious of Isaiah’s ravings anent the forgetfulness of the national worship, the most terrible thunderings of apostle and evangelist against idolatry and unbelief, were grouped together and presented to Dawes to soothe21 him. All the material horrors of Meekin’s faith — stripped, by force of dissociation from the context, of all poetic22 feeling and local colouring — were launched at the suffering sinner by Meekin’s ignorant hand. The miserable23 man, seeking for consolation24 and peace, turned over the leaves of the Bible only to find himself threatened with “the pains of Hell”, “the never-dying worm”, “the unquenchable fire”, “the bubbling brimstone”, the “bottomless pit”, from out of which the “smoke of his torment25” should ascend26 for ever and ever. Before his eyes was held no image of a tender Saviour27 (with hands soft to soothe, and eyes brimming with ineffable28 pity) dying crucified that he and other malefactors might have hope, by thinking on such marvellous humanity. The worthy29 Pharisee who was sent to him to teach him how mankind is to be redeemed30 with Love, preached only that harsh Law whose barbarous power died with the gentle Nazarene on Calvary.
Repelled31 by this unlooked-for ending to his hopes, he let the book fall to the ground. “Is there, then, nothing but torment for me in this world or the next?” he groaned32, shuddering33. Presently his eyes sought his right hand, resting upon it as though it were not his own, or had some secret virtue34 which made it different from the other. “He would not have done this? He would not have thrust upon me these savage35 judgments36, these dreadful threats of Hell and Death. He called me ‘Brother’!” And filled with a strange wild pity for himself, and yearning37 love towards the man who befriended him, he fell to nursing the hand on which North’s tears had fallen, moaning and rocking himself to and fro.
Meekin, in the morning, found his pupil more sullen38 than ever.
“Have you learned these texts, my man?” said he, cheerfully, willing not to be angered with his uncouth39 and unpromising convert.
Rufus Dawes pointed40 with his foot to the Bible, which still lay on the floor as he had left it the night before. “No!”
“No! Why not?”
“I would learn no such words as those. I would rather forget them.”
“Forget them! My good man, I—”
Rufus Dawes sprang up in sudden wrath41, and pointing to his cell door with a gesture that — chained and degraded as he was — had something of dignity in it, cried, “What do you know about the feelings of such as I? Take your book and yourself away. When I asked for a priest, I had no thought of you. Begone!”
Meekin, despite the halo of sanctity which he felt should surround him, found his gentility melt all of a sudden. Adventitious42 distinctions had disappeared for the instant. The pair had become simply man and man, and the sleek43 priest-master quailing44 before the outraged45 manhood of the convict-penitent, picked up his Bible and backed out.
“That man Dawes is very insolent,” said the insulted chaplain to Burgess. “He was brutal46 to me to-day — quite brutal.”
“Was he?” said Burgess. “Had too long a spell, I expect. I’ll send him back to work to-morrow.”
“It would be well,” said Meekin, “if he had some employment.”
收听单词发音 |
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soothingly
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| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
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bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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cant
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| n.斜穿，黑话，猛扔 | |
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piety
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| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
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mutinous
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| adj.叛变的，反抗的；adv.反抗地，叛变地；n.反抗，叛变 | |
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blasphemy
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| n.亵渎，渎神 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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quay
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| n.码头，靠岸处 | |
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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downwards
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| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
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bard
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| n.吟游诗人 | |
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soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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ascend
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| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
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saviour
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| n.拯救者，救星 | |
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ineffable
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| adj.无法表达的，不可言喻的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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redeemed
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| adj. 可赎回的，可救赎的 动词redeem的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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repelled
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| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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judgments
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| 判断( judgment的名词复数 )； 鉴定； 评价； 审判 | |
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yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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uncouth
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| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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adventitious
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| adj.偶然的 | |
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sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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quailing
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| 害怕，发抖，畏缩( quail的现在分词 ) | |
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outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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