My uncle was an impassive man by nature and had become more so by the tradition of the society in which he lived.  He could have turned a card upon which his fortune depended without the twitch¹ of a muscle, and I had seen him myself driving to imminent² death on the Godstone Road with as calm a face as if he were out for his daily airing in the Mall.  But now the shock which had come upon him was so great that he could only stand with white cheeks and staring, incredulous eyes.  Twice I saw him open his lips, and twice he put his hand up to his throat, as though a barrier had risen betwixt himself and his utterance⁴.  Finally, he took a sudden little run forward with both his hands thrown out in greeting.

 

“Ned!” he cried.

 

But the strange man who stood before him folded his arms over his breast.

 

“No Charles,” said he.

 

My uncle stopped and looked at him in amazement⁵.

 

“Surely, Ned, you have a greeting for me after all these years?”

 

“You believed me to have done this deed, Charles.  I read it in your eyes and in your manner on that terrible morning.  You never asked me for an explanation.  You never considered how impossible such a crime must be for a man of my character.  At the first breath of suspicion you, my intimate friend, the man who knew me best, set me down as a thief and a murderer.”

 

“No, no, Ned.”

 

“You did, Charles; I read it in your eyes.  And so it was that when I wished to leave that which was most precious to me in safe hands I had to pass you over and to place him in the charge of the one man who from the first never doubted my innocence⁶.  Better a thousand times that my son should be brought up in a humble⁷ station and in ignorance of his unfortunate father, than that he should learn to share the doubts and suspicions of his equals.”

分享到：