"Sir Henry Ashwoode, I have come here in answer to a note which reached me but a few minutes since. You desired a conference with me; is there any commission with which you would wish to charge me?—if so, let me know it, and it shall be done."
"None, none, Mr. O'Connor, thank you," rejoined Ashwoode, recovering his characteristic self-possession, and continuing proudly, "if you add to your visit a patient audience of a few minutes, you will have conferred upon me the only favour I desire. Pray, sit down; it is rather a hard and a homely2 seat," he added, with a haggard, joyless smile—"but the only one this place supplies."
Another silence followed, during which Sir Henry Ashwoode restlessly shifted his attitude every moment, in evident and uncontrollable nervous excitement. At length he arose, and walked twice or thrice up and down the narrow chamber3, exhibiting without any longer care for concealment4 his pale, wasted face in the full light which streamed in through the grated window, his sunken eyes and unshorn chin, and worn and attenuated5 figure.
"You hear that sound," said he, abruptly6 stopping short, and looking with the same strange smile upon O'Connor; "the clank upon the flags as I walk up and down—the jingle7 of the fetters—isn't it strange—isn't it odd—like a dream—eh?"
Another silence followed, which Ashwoode again abruptly interrupted.
"You know all this story?—of course you do—everybody does—how the wretches9 have trapped me—isn't it terrible—isn't it dreadful? Oh! you cannot know what it is to mope about this place alone, when it is growing dark, as I do every evening, and in the night time. If I had been another man, I'd have been raving10 mad by this time. I said alone—did I?" he continued, with increasing excitement; "oh! that it were!—oh! that it were! He comes there—there," he screamed, pointing to the foot of the bed, "with all those infernal cloths and fringes about his face, morning and evening. Ah, God! such a thing—half idiot, half fiend; and still the same, though I curse him till I'm hoarse11, he won't leave it. Can't they wait—can't they wait? for-ever is a long day. As I'm a living man, he's with me every night—there—there is the body, gaping12 and nodding—there—there—there!"
As he shouted this with frantic13 and despairing horror, shaking his clenched14 hands toward the place of his dreaded15 nightly visitant, O'Connor felt a thrill of horror such as he had never known before, and hardly recovered from this painful feeling, when Sir Henry Ashwoode turned to the little table on which, among many things, a vessel16 of water was placed, and filling some out into a cracked cup, he added to it drops from a phial, and hastily swallowed the mixture.
"Laudanum is all the philosophy or religion I can boast; it's well to have even so much," said he, returning the bottle to his pocket. "It's a dead secret, though, that I have got any; this is a present from the doctor they allow me to see, and I'm on honour not—to poison myself—isn't it comical?—for fear he should get into a scrape; but I've another game to play—no fear of that—no, no."
Another silence followed, and Sir Henry Ashwoode said quickly,—
"What do the people say about it? Do they think I forged that accursed bond? Do they think me guilty?"
O'Connor declared his entire ignorance of public rumour18, alleging19 his own illness, and consequent close confinement20, as the cause of it.
"They sha'n't believe me guilty, no, they sha'n't. Look ye, sir, I have one good feeling left," he resumed, vehemently21; "I will not let my name suffer. If the most resolute22 firmness to the very last, and the most solemn renunciation of the charges preferred against me, reiterated23 at the foot of the gallows24, with the halter about my neck—if these can beget25 a belief of my innocence26, my name shall be clear—my name shall not suffer; this last outrage27 I will avert28; but oh, my God! is there no chance yet—must I—must I perish? Will no one save me—will no one help me? Oh, God! oh, God! is there no pity—no succour; must it come?"
Thus crying, he threw himself forward upon the table, while every joint29 and muscle quivered and heaved with fierce hysterical30 sobs31 which, more like a succession of short convulsive shrieks32 than actual weeping, betrayed his agony, while O'Connor looked on with a mixture of horror and pity, which all that was past could not suppress.
At length the paroxysm subsided33. The wretched man filled out some more water, and mingling34 some drops of laudanum in it, he drank it off, and became comparatively composed.
"Not a word of this to any living being, I charge you," said he, clutching O'Connor's arm in his attenuated hand, and fixing his sunken fiery35 eyes upon his; "I would not have my folly36 known; I'm not always so weak as you have seen me. It must be, that's all—no help for it. It's rather a novel thing, though, to hang a baronet—ha! ha! You look scared—you think my wits are unsettled; but you're wrong. I don't sleep; I hav'n't for some time; and want of rest, you know, makes a man's manner odd; makes him excitable—nervous. I'm more myself now."
After a short pause, Sir Henry Ashwoode resumed,—
"When we had that affray together, in which would to God you had run me through the heart, you put a question to me about my sister—poor Mary; I will answer that now, and more than answer it. That girl loves you with her whole heart; loves you alone; never loved another. It matters not to tell how I and my father—the great and accursed first cause of all our misfortunes and miseries—effected your estrangement37. The Italian miscreant38 told you truth. The girl is gone I know not whither, to seek an asylum39 from me—ay, from me. To save my life and honour. I would have constrained40 her to marry the wretch8 who has destroyed me. It was he—he who urged it, who cajoled me. I joined him, to save my life and honour! and now—oh! God, where are they?"
O'Connor rose, and said somewhat sternly,—
"May God pardon you, Sir Henry Ashwoode, for all you have done against the peace of that most noble and generous being, your sister. What I have suffered at your hands I heartily41 forgive."
"I ask forgiveness nowhere," rejoined Ashwoode, stoically; "what's done is done. It has been a wild and fitful life, and is now over. What forgiveness can you give me or she that's worth a thought?—folly, folly!"
"One word of earnest hope before I leave you; one word of solemn warning," said O'Connor; "the vanities of this world are fading fast and for ever from your view; you are going where the applause of men can reach you no more! I conjure42 you, then, for the sake of your eternal peace, if your sentence be a just one, do not insult your Creator by denying your guilt17, and pass into His awful presence with a lie upon your lips."
Ashwoode paused for a moment, and then walked suddenly up to O'Connor, and almost in a whisper said,—
"Not a word of that, my course is chosen; not one word more. Observe, what has passed between us is private; now leave me." So saying, Ashwoode turned from him, and walked toward the narrow window of his cell.
"Farewell, Sir Henry Ashwoode, farewell for ever; and may God have mercy upon you," said O'Connor, passing out upon the dark and narrow corridor.
The turnkey closed the door with a heavy crash upon his prisoner, and locked it once more, and thus the two young men, who had so often and so variously encountered in the unequal path of life, were parted never again to meet in the wayward scenes of this chequered and changeful existence. Tired and agitated43, O'Connor threw himself into the first coach he met, and was deposited safely in the "Cock and Anchor." It were vain to attempt to describe the ecstasies44 and transports of honest Larry Toole at the unexpected recovery of his long-lost master; we shall not attempt to do so. It is enough for our purpose to state that at the "Cock and Anchor" O'Connor received two letters from his old friend, Mr. Audley, and one conveying a pressing invitation from Oliver French of Ardgillagh, in compliance45 with which, early on the next morning, he mounted his horse, and set forth46, followed by his trusty squire47, upon the high road to Naas, resolved to task his strength to the uttermost, although he knew that even thus he must necessarily divide his journey into many more stages than his impatience48 would have allowed, had more rapid travelling in his weak condition been possible.
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收听单词发音
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1
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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2
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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3
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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attenuated
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| v.（使）变细( attenuate的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）变薄；（使）变小；减弱 | |
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6
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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7
jingle
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| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
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8
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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9
wretches
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| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
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10
raving
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| 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 | |
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11
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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12
gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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13
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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14
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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16
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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17
guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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18
rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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19
alleging
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| 断言，宣称，辩解( allege的现在分词 ) | |
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20
confinement
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| n.幽禁，拘留，监禁；分娩；限制，局限 | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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reiterated
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24
gallows
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| n.绞刑架，绞台 | |
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25
beget
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| v.引起；产生 | |
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26
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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27
outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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28
avert
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| v.防止，避免；转移(目光、注意力等) | |
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29
joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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30
hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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31
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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32
shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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33
subsided
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| 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 | |
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34
mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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35
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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36
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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37
estrangement
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| n.疏远，失和，不和 | |
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38
miscreant
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| n.恶棍 | |
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39
asylum
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| n.避难所，庇护所，避难 | |
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40
constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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41
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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42
conjure
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| v.恳求，祈求；变魔术，变戏法 | |
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43
agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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44
ecstasies
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| 狂喜( ecstasy的名词复数 )； 出神； 入迷； 迷幻药 | |
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45
compliance
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| n.顺从；服从；附和；屈从 | |
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46
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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47
squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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48
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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