"It is not so difficult," St. Vincent interposed. "Is it, Miss Welse?
"Like the tight-rope dancer?"
"Oh, you are incorrigible," Frona laughed. "I feel certain that you know as much about canoes as we."
"And you know?—a woman?" Cosmopolitan4 as the Frenchman was, the independence and ability for doing of the Yankee women were a perpetual wonder to him. "How?"
"When I was a very little girl, at Dyea, among the Indians. But next spring, after the river breaks, we'll give you your first lessons, Mr. St. Vincent and I. So you see, you will return to civilization with accomplishments5. And you will surely love it."
"Under such charming tutorship," he murmured, gallantly6. "But you, Mr. St. Vincent, do you think I shall be so successful that I may come to love it? Do you love it?—you, who stand always in the background, sparing of speech, inscrutable, as though able but unwilling7 to speak from out the eternal wisdom of a vast experience." The baron turned quickly to Frona. "We are old friends, did I not tell you? So I may, what you Americans call, josh with him. Is it not so, Mr. St. Vincent?"
Gregory nodded, and Frona said, "I am sure you met at the ends of the earth somewhere."
"Yokohama," St. Vincent cut in shortly; "eleven years ago, in cherry-blossom time. But Baron Courbertin does me an injustice8, which stings, unhappily, because it is not true. I am afraid, when I get started, that I talk too much about myself."
"A martyr9 to your friends," Frona conciliated. "And such a teller10 of good tales that your friends cannot forbear imposing12 upon you."
"Then tell us a canoe story," the baron begged. "A good one! A—what you Yankees call—a hair-raiser!"
They drew up to Mrs. Schoville's fat wood-burning stove, and St. Vincent told of the great whirlpool in the Box Canyon13, of the terrible corkscrew in the mane of the White Horse Rapids, and of his cowardly comrade, who, walking around, had left him to go through alone—nine years before when the Yukon was virgin14.
"That hill! The last of my breath!" she gasped17, pulling off her mittens18. "Never saw such luck!" she declared none the less vehemently19 the next moment.
"This play will never come off! I never shall be Mrs. Linden! How can I? Krogstad's gone on a stampede to Indian River, and no one knows when he'll be back! Krogstad" (to Corliss) "is Mr. Maybrick, you know. And Mrs. Alexander has the neuralgia and can't stir out. So there's no rehearsal20 to-day, that's flat!" She attitudinized dramatically: "'Yes, in my first terror! But a day has passed, and in that day I have seen incredible things in this house! Helmer must know everything! There must be an end to this unhappy secret! O Krogstad, you need me, and I—I need you,' and you are over on the Indian River making sour-dough bread, and I shall never see you more!"
They clapped their applause.
"My only reward for venturing out and keeping you all waiting was my meeting with this ridiculous fellow." She shoved Corliss forward. "Oh! you have not met! Baron Courbertin, Mr. Corliss. If you strike it rich, baron, I advise you to sell to Mr. Corliss. He has the money-bags of Croesus, and will buy anything so long as the title is good. And if you don't strike, sell anyway. He's a professional philanthropist, you know.
"But would you believe it!" (addressing the general group) "this ridiculous fellow kindly22 offered to see me up the hill and gossip along the way—gossip! though he refused point-blank to come in and watch the rehearsal. But when he found there wasn't to be any, he changed about like a weather-vane. So here he is, claiming to have been away to Miller23 Creek24; but between ourselves there is no telling what dark deeds—"
"Dark deeds! Look!" Frona broke in, pointing to the tip of an amber25 mouth-piece which projected from Vance's outside breast-pocket. "A pipe! My congratulations."
She held out her hand and he shook good-humoredly.
"All Del's fault," he laughed. "When I go before the great white throne, it is he who shall stand forth26 and be responsible for that particular sin."
"An improvement, nevertheless," she argued. "All that is wanting is a good round swear-word now and again."
"Oh, I assure you I am not unlearned," he retorted. "No man can drive dogs else. I can swear from hell to breakfast, by damn, and back again, if you will permit me, to the last link of perdition. By the bones of Pharaoh and the blood of Judas, for instance, are fairly efficacious with a string of huskies; but the best of my dog-driving nomenclature, more's the pity, women cannot stand. I promise you, however, in spite of hell and high water—"
"Oh! Oh!" Mrs. Schoville screamed, thrusting her fingers into her ears.
"Madame," Baron Courbertin spoke27 up gravely, "it is a fact, a lamentable28 fact, that the dogs of the north are responsible for more men's souls than all other causes put together. Is it not so? I leave it to the gentlemen."
Both Corliss and St. Vincent solemnly agreed, and proceeded to detonate the lady by swapping29 heart-rending and apposite dog tales.
St. Vincent and the baron remained behind to take lunch with the Gold Commissioner's wife, leaving Frona and Corliss to go down the hill together. Silently consenting, as though to prolong the descent, they swerved30 to the right, cutting transversely the myriad31 foot-paths and sled roads which led down into the town. It was a mid-December day, clear and cold; and the hesitant high-noon sun, having laboriously32 dragged its pale orb11 up from behind the southern land-rim, balked33 at the great climb to the zenith, and began its shamefaced slide back beneath the earth. Its oblique34 rays refracted from the floating frost particles till the air was filled with glittering jewel-dust—resplendent, blazing, flashing light and fire, but cold as outer space.
They passed down through the scintillant35, magical sheen, their moccasins rhythmically36 crunching37 the snow and their breaths wreathing mysteriously from their lips in sprayed opalescence38. Neither spoke, nor cared to speak, so wonderful was it all. At their feet, under the great vault39 of heaven, a speck40 in the midst of the white vastness, huddled41 the golden city—puny and sordid42, feebly protesting against immensity, man's challenge to the infinite!
Calls of men and cries of encouragement came sharply to them from close at hand, and they halted. There was an eager yelping43, a scratching of feet, and a string of ice-rimed wolf-dogs, with hot-lolling tongues and dripping jaws44, pulled up the slope and turned into the path ahead of them. On the sled, a long and narrow box of rough-sawed spruce told the nature of the freight. Two dog-drivers, a woman walking blindly, and a black-robed priest, made up the funeral cortege. A few paces farther on the dogs were again put against the steep, and with whine45 and shout and clatter46 the unheeding clay was hauled on and upward to its ice-hewn hillside chamber47.
"A zone-conqueror," Frona broke voice.
Corliss found his thought following hers, and answered, "These battlers of frost and fighters of hunger! I can understand how the dominant48 races have come down out of the north to empire. Strong to venture, strong to endure, with infinite faith and infinite patience, is it to be wondered at?"
"'We smote50 with our swords,'" he chanted; "'to me it was a joy like having my bright bride by me on the couch.' 'I have marched with my bloody51 sword, and the raven52 has followed me. Furiously we fought; the fire passed over the dwellings53 of men; we slept in the blood of those who kept the gates.'"
"But do you feel it, Vance?" she cried, her hand flashing out and resting on his arm.
"I begin to feel, I think. The north has taught me, is teaching me. The old thing's come back with new significance. Yet I do not know. It seems a tremendous egotism, a magnificent dream."
"Yes," he considered, "I am my father's son, and the line goes back to the sea-kings who never slept under the smoky rafters of a roof or drained the ale-horn by inhabited hearth55. There must be a reason for the dead-status of the black, a reason for the Teuton spreading over the earth as no other race has ever spread. There must be something in race heredity, else I would not leap at the summons."
"A great race, Vance. Half of the earth its heritage, and all of the sea! And in threescore generations it has achieved it all—think of it! threescore generations!—and to-day it reaches out wider-armed than ever. The smiter56 and the destroyer among nations! the builder and the law-giver! Oh, Vance, my love is passionate57, but God will forgive, for it is good. A great race, greatly conceived; and if to perish, greatly to perish! Don't you remember:
"'Trembles Yggdrasil's ash yet standing58; groans60 that ancient tree, and the Jotun Loki is loosed. The shadows groan59 on the ways of Hel, until the fire of Surt has consumed the tree. Hrym steers61 from the east, the waters rise, the mundane62 snake is coiled in jotun-rage. The worm heats the water, and the eagle screams; the pale of beak63 tears carcases; the ship Naglfar is loosed. Surt from the south comes with flickering65 flame; shines from his sword the Val-god's sun.'"
Swaying there like a furred Valkyrie above the final carnage of men and gods, she touched his imagination, and the blood surged exultingly66 along unknown channels, thrilling and uplifting.
"'The stony67 hills are dashed together, the giantesses totter68; men tread the path of Hel, and heaven is cloven. The sun darkens, earth in ocean sinks, fall from heaven the bright stars, fire's breath assails69 the all-nourishing tree, towering fire plays against heaven itself.'"
Outlined against the blazing air, her brows and lashes70 white with frost, the jewel-dust striking and washing against hair and face, and the south-sun lighting71 her with a great redness, the man saw her as the genius of the race. The traditions of the blood laid hold of him, and he felt strangely at one with the white-skinned, yellow-haired giants of the younger world. And as he looked upon her the mighty72 past rose before him, and the caverns73 of his being resounded74 with the shock and tumult75 of forgotten battles. With bellowing76 of storm-winds and crash of smoking North Sea waves, he saw the sharp-beaked fighting galleys77, and the sea-flung Northmen, great-muscled, deep-chested, sprung from the elements, men of sword and sweep, marauders and scourgers of the warm south-lands! The din21 of twenty centuries of battle was roaring in his ear, and the clamor for return to type strong upon him. He seized her hands passionately78.
"Be the bright bride by me, Frona! Be the bright bride by me on the couch!"
She started and looked down at him, questioningly. Then the import of it reached her and she involuntarily drew back. The sun shot a last failing flicker64 across the earth and vanished. The fire went out of the air, and the day darkened. Far above, the hearse-dogs howled mournfully.
"No," he interrupted, as words formed on her lips. "Do not speak. I know my answer, your answer . . . now . . . I was a fool . . . Come, let us go down."
It was not until they had left the mountain behind them, crossed the flat, and come out on the river by the saw-mill, that the bustle15 and skurry of human life made it seem possible for them to speak. Corliss had walked with his eyes moodily79 bent80 to the ground; and Frona, with head erect81 and looking everywhere, stealing an occasional glance to his face. Where the road rose over the log run-way of the mill the footing was slippery, and catching82 at her to save her from falling, their eyes met.
"I—I am grieved," she hesitated. And then, in unconscious self-defence,
"It was so . . . I had not expected it—just then."
"Else you would have prevented?" he asked, bitterly.
"Yes. I think I should have. I did not wish to give you pain—"
"Then you expected it, some time?"
"And feared it. But I had hoped . . . I . . . Vance, I did not come into the Klondike to get married. I liked you at the beginning, and I have liked you more and more,—never so much as to-day,—but—"
"But you had never looked upon me in the light of a possible husband—that is what you are trying to say."
As he spoke, he looked at her side-wise, and sharply; and when her eyes met his with the same old frankness, the thought of losing her maddened him.
"But I have," she answered at once. "I have looked upon you in that light, but somehow it was not convincing. Why, I do not know. There was so much I found to like in you, so much—"
He tried to stop her with a dissenting83 gesture, but she went on.
"So much to admire. There was all the warmth of friendship, and closer friendship,—a growing camaraderie84, in fact; but nothing more. Though I did not wish more, I should have welcomed it had it come."
"As one welcomes the unwelcome guest."
"Why won't you help me, Vance, instead of making it harder? It is hard on you, surely, but do you imagine that I am enjoying it? I feel because of your pain, and, further, I know when I refuse a dear friend for a lover the dear friend goes from me. I do not part with friends lightly."
"I see; doubly bankrupt; friend and lover both. But they are easily replaced. I fancy I was half lost before I spoke. Had I remained silent, it would have been the same anyway. Time softens85; new associations, new thoughts and faces; men with marvellous adventures—"
"It is useless, Vance, no matter what you may say. I shall not quarrel with you. I can understand how you feel—"
"If I am quarrelsome, then I had better leave you." He halted suddenly, and she stood beside him. "Here comes Dave Harney. He will see you home. It's only a step."
"You are doing neither yourself nor me kindness." She spoke with final firmness. "I decline to consider this the end. We are too close to it to understand it fairly. You must come and see me when we are both calmer. I refuse to be treated in this fashion. It is childish of you." She shot a hasty glance at the approaching Eldorado king. "I do not think I deserve it at your hands. I refuse to lose you as a friend. And I insist that you come and see me, that things remain on the old footing."
He shook his head.
"Hello!" Dave Harney touched his cap and slowed down loose-jointedly.
"Sorry you didn't take my tip? Dogs gone up a dollar a pound since
yesterday, and still a-whoopin'. Good-afternoon, Miss Frona, and Mr.
Corliss. Goin' my way?"
"Miss Welse is." Corliss touched the visor of his cap and half-turned on his heel.
"Where're you off to?" Dave demanded.
"Got an appointment," he lied.
"Remember," Frona called to him, "you must come and see me."
"Too busy, I'm afraid, just now. Good-by. So long, Dave."
"Jemimy!" Dave remarked, staring after him; "but he's a hustler. Always busy—with big things, too. Wonder why he didn't go in for dogs?"
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收听单词发音
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1
baron
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| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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poise
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| vt./vi. 平衡，保持平衡；n.泰然自若，自信 | |
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cosmopolitan
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| adj.世界性的，全世界的，四海为家的，全球的 | |
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accomplishments
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| n.造诣；完成( accomplishment的名词复数 )；技能；成绩；成就 | |
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gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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teller
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| n.银行出纳员；(选举)计票员 | |
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orb
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| n.太阳；星球；v.弄圆；成球形 | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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canyon
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| n.峡谷，溪谷 | |
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virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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bustled
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| 闹哄哄地忙乱，奔忙( bustle的过去式和过去分词 )； 催促 | |
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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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mittens
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| 不分指手套 | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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rehearsal
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| n.排练，排演；练习 | |
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din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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miller
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| n.磨坊主 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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lamentable
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| adj.令人惋惜的，悔恨的 | |
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swapping
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| 交换，交换技术 | |
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swerved
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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myriad
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| adj.无数的；n.无数，极大数量 | |
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laboriously
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| adv.艰苦地；费力地；辛勤地；（文体等）佶屈聱牙地 | |
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balked
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| v.畏缩不前，犹豫( balk的过去式和过去分词 )；（指马）不肯跑 | |
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oblique
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| adj.斜的，倾斜的，无诚意的，不坦率的 | |
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scintillant
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| adj.产生火花的，闪烁（耀）的 | |
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rhythmically
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| adv.有节奏地 | |
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crunching
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| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的现在分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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opalescence
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| n.乳白光，蛋白色光；乳光 | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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yelping
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| v.发出短而尖的叫声( yelp的现在分词 ) | |
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jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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whine
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| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
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clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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dominant
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| adj.支配的，统治的；占优势的；显性的；n.主因，要素，主要的人(或物)；显性基因 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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raven
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| n.渡鸟，乌鸦；adj.乌亮的 | |
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dwellings
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| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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smiter
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| 打击者 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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groans
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| n.呻吟，叹息( groan的名词复数 )；呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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steers
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| n.阉公牛，肉用公牛( steer的名词复数 )v.驾驶( steer的第三人称单数 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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mundane
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| adj.平凡的；尘世的；宇宙的 | |
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beak
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| n.鸟嘴，茶壶嘴，钩形鼻 | |
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flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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exultingly
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| 兴高采烈地，得意地 | |
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stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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68
totter
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| v.蹒跚， 摇摇欲坠；n.蹒跚的步子 | |
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69
assails
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| v.攻击( assail的第三人称单数 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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70
lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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71
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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72
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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73
caverns
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| 大山洞，大洞穴( cavern的名词复数 ) | |
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74
resounded
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| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
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75
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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76
bellowing
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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77
galleys
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| n.平底大船，战舰( galley的名词复数 )；（船上或航空器上的）厨房 | |
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78
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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moodily
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| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
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80
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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81
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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82
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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83
dissenting
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| adj.不同意的 | |
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84
camaraderie
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| n.同志之爱，友情 | |
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85
softens
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| （使）变软( soften的第三人称单数 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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86
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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