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															-<title>CHAPTER XV</title>

														
 
															+<title>第十五章</title>

														
 
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															-<h2 class="h21"><a id="a296"></a><a id="a297"></a><a id="a298"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2>

														
 
															+<h2 class="h21"><a id="a296"></a><a id="a297"></a><a id="a298"></a>第十五章</h2>

														
 
															 <p class="p28"><span class="t25"><img src="images/img23.jpg" width="135" height="32" alt="img23.jpg"/></span></p>

														
 
															-<p class="p29"><span class="t29">I</span><span class="t28">T</span><span class="t27"> </span><span class="t28">IS</span><span class="t27"> </span><span class="t28">PERHAPS</span><span class="t27"> </span>time that the reader should know a little of the ancient house and loyalty where many of the personages of whose history these pages treat, lived and moved and had their being.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p29">The Abbey House, so called, was in reality that part of the monastery which had been devoted to the use of successive generations of priors. It was, like the ruins that lay to its rear, entirely built of grey masonry, rendered greyer still by the lichens that fed upon its walls, which were of exceeding strength and thickness. It was a long, irregular building, and roofed with old and narrow tiles, which from red had, in the course of ages, faded to sober russet. The banqueting- hall was a separate building at its northern end, and connected with the main dwelling by a covered way. The aspect of the house was westerly, and the front windows looked on to an expanse of park-like land, heavily timbered with oaks of large size, some of them pollards that might have pushed their first leaves in the time of William the Conqueror. In spring their vivid green was diversified by the reddish brown of a double line of noble walnut-trees, a full half mile in length, marking the track of the carriage-drive that led to the Roxham high-road.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Behind the house lay the walled garden, celebrated in the time of the monks as being a fortnight earlier than any other in the neighbourhood. Skirting the southern wall of this garden, which was a little less than a hundred paces long, the visitor reached the scattered ruins of the old monastery that had for generations served as a stone quarry to the surrounding villages, but of which enough was left, including a magnificent gateway, to show how great had been its former extent. Passing on through these, he would come to an enclosure that marked the boundaries of the old graveyard, now turned to agricultural uses, and then to the church itself, a building with a very fine tower, but possessing no particular interest, if we except some exceedingly good brasses and a colossal figure of a monk cut out of the solid heart of an oak, and supposed to be the effigy of a prior of the abbey who died in the time of Edward I. Below the church again, and about one hundred and fifty paces from it, was the vicarage, a comparatively modern building, possessing no architectural attraction, and evidently reared out of the remains of the monastery.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">At the south end of the Abbey House itself lay a small grass plot and pleasure-garden fringed with shrubberies, and adorned with two fine cedar-trees. One of these trees was at its further extremity, and under it there ran a path cut through the dense shrubbery. This path, which was edged with limes and called the &ldquo;Tunnel Walk,&rdquo; led to the lake, and debouched in the little glade where stood Caresfoot&rsquo;s Staff. The lake itself was a fine piece of water, partly natural and partly constructed by the monks, measuring a full mile round, and from fifty to two hundred yards in width. It was in the shape of a man&rsquo;s shoe, the heel facing west like the house, but projecting beyond it, the narrow part representing the hollow of the instep, being exactly opposite to it, and the sole swelling out in an easterly direction.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Bratham Abbey was altogether a fine old place, but the most remarkable thing about it was its air of antiquity and the solemnity of its peace. It did not, indeed, strike the spirit with that religious awe which is apt to fall upon us as we gaze along the vaulted aisles of great cathedrals, but it appealed perhaps with equal strength to the softer and more reflective side of our nature. For generation after generation that house had been the home of men like ourselves; they had passed and were forgotten, but it remained, the sole witness of the stories of their lives. Hands of which the very bones had long since crumbled into dust had planted those old oaks and walnuts, that still donned their green robes in summer, and shed them in the autumn, to stand great skeletons through the winter months, awaiting the resurrection of the spring.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">There lay upon the place and its surroundings a burden of dead lives, intangible, but none the less real. The air was thick with memories, as suggestive as the grey dust in a vault. Even in the summer, in the full burst of nature revelling in her strength, the place was sad. But in the winter, when the wind came howling through the groaning trees, and drove the grey scud across an ashy sky, when the birds were dumb, and there were no cattle on the sodden lawn, its isolated melancholy was a palpable thing.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">That hoary house might have been a gateway of the dim land we call the Past, looking down in stony sorrow on the follies of those who so soon must cross its portals, and, to the wise who could hear the lesson, pregnant with echoes of the warning voices of many generations.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Here it was that Angela grew up to womanhood.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Some nine and a half years had passed from the date of the events described in the foregoing pages, when one evening Mr. Fraser bethought him that he had been indoors all day, and proposed reading till late that night, and that therefore he had better take some exercise.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">A tall and somewhat nervous-looking man, with dark eyes, a sensitive mouth, and that peculiar stoop and pallor of complexion which those devoted to much study almost invariably acquire, he had &ldquo;student&rdquo; written on his face. His history was a sufficiently common one. He possessed academical abilities of a very high order, and had in his youth distinguished himself greatly at college, both as a classical and a mathematical scholar. When quite young, he was appointed, through the influence of a relation, to his present living, where the income was good and the population very small indeed. Freed from all necessity for exertion, he shut himself up with his books, having his little round of parish work for relaxation, and never sought to emerge from the quiet of his aimless studies to struggle for fame and place in the laborious world. Mr. Fraser was what people call an able man thrown away. If they had known his shy, sensitive nature a little better, they would have understood that he was infinitely more suited for the solitary and peaceful lot in life which he had chosen, than to become a unit in the turbulent and greedy crowd that is struggling through all the ages up the slippery slopes of the temple of that greatest of our gods &#8212; Success.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">There are many such men, probably you, my reader, know one or two. With infinite labour they store up honey from the fields of knowledge, collect endless data from the statistics of science, pile up their calculations against the very stars; and all to no end. As a rule, they do not write books; they gather the learning for the learning&rsquo;s sake, and for the very love of it rejoice to count their labour lost. And thus they go on from year to year, until the golden bowl is broken and the pitcher broken at the fountain, and the gathered knowledge sinks, or appears to sink, back to whence it came. Alas, that one generation cannot hand on its wisdom and experience &#8212; more especially its experience &#8212; to another in its perfect form! If it could, we men should soon become as gods.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">It was a mild evening in the latter end of October when Mr. Fraser started on his walk. The moon was up in the heavens as he, an hour later, made his way from the side of the lake, where he had been wandering, back to the churchyard through which he had to pass to reach the vicarage. Just before he came to the gate, however, he was surprised, in such a solitary spot, to see a slight figure leaning against the wall opposite the place where lay the mortal remains of the old squire and his daughter-in-law, Hilda. He stood still and watched; the figure appeared to be gazing steadily at the graves. Presently it turned and saw him, and he recognized the great grey eyes and golden hair of little Angela Caresfoot.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Angela, my dear, what are you doing here at this time of night?&rdquo; he asked, in some surprise.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">She blushed a little as she shook hands rather awkwardly with him.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be angry with me,&rdquo; she said in a deprecatory voice; &ldquo;but I was so lonely this evening that I came here for company.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Came here for company! What do you mean?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">She hung her head.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Come,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;tell me what you mean.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t quite know myself. How can I tell you?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">He looked more puzzled than ever, and she observed it and went on:</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I will try to tell you, but you must not be cross like Pigott when she cannot understand me. Sometimes I feel ever so much alone, as though I was looking for something and could not find it, and then I come and stand here and look at my mother&rsquo;s grave, and I get company and am not lonely any more. That is all I know; I cannot tell you any more. Do you think me silly? Pigott does.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I think you are a very strange child. Are you not afraid to come here alone at night?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Afraid &#8212; oh, no! Nobody comes here; the people in the village dare not come here after dark, because they say that the ruins are full of spirits. Jakes told me that. But I must be stupid; I cannot see them, and I want so very much to see them. I hope it is not wrong, but I told my father so the other day, and he turned white and was angry with Pigott for giving me such ideas; but you know Pigott did not give them to me at all. I am not afraid to come; I like it, it is so quiet, and, if one listens enough in the quiet, I always think one may hear something that other people do not hear.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Do you hear anything, then?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Yes, I hear things, but I cannot understand them. Listen to the wind in the branches of that tree, the chestnut, off which the leaf is falling now. It says something, if only I could catch it.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Yes, child, yes, you are right in a way; all Nature tells the same eternal tale, if our ears were not stopped to its voices,&rdquo; he answered, with a sigh; indeed, the child&rsquo;s talk had struck a vein of thought familiar to his own mind, and, what is more, it deeply interested him; there was a quaint, far-off wisdom in it.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;It is pleasant to-night, is it not, Mr. Fraser?&rdquo; said the little maid, &ldquo;though everything is dying. The things die softly without any pain this year; last year they were all killed in the rain and wind. Look at that cloud floating across the moon, is it not beautiful? I wonder what it is the shadow of; I think all the clouds are shadows of something up in heaven.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;And when there are no clouds?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Oh! then heaven is quite still and happy.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;But heaven is always happy.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Is it? I don&rsquo;t understand how it can be always happy if <span class="t31">we</span> go there. There must be so many to be sorry for.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Mr. Fraser mused a little; that last remark was difficult to answer.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">He looked at the fleecy cloud, and, falling into her humour, said &#8212;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I think your cloud is the shadow of an eagle carrying a lamb to its little ones.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;And I think,&rdquo; she answered confidently, &ldquo;that it is the shadow of an angel carrying a baby home.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Again he was silenced; the idea was infinitely more poetical than his own.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;This,&rdquo; he reflected, &ldquo;is a child of a curious mental calibre.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Before he could pursue the thought further, she broke in upon it in quite a different strain.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Have you seen Jack and Jill? They <span class="t31">are</span> jolly.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Who are Jack and Jill?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Why, my ravens, of course. I got them out of the old tree with a hole in it at the end of the lake.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;The tree at the end of the lake! Why, the hole where the ravens nest is fifty feet up. Who got them for you?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I got them myself. Sam &#8212; you know Sam &#8212; was afraid to go up. He said he should fall, and that the old birds would peck his eyes. So I went by myself one morning quite early, with a bag tied round my neck, and got up. It was hard work, and I nearly tumbled once; but I got on the bough beneath the hole at last. It shook very much; it is so rotten, you have no idea. There were three little ones in the nest, all with great mouths. I took two, and left one for the old birds. When I was nearly down again, the old birds found me out, and flew at me, and beat my head with their wings, and pecked &#8212; oh, they did peck! Look here,&rdquo; and she showed him a scar on her hand; &ldquo;that&rsquo;s where they pecked. But I stuck to my bag, and got down at last, and I&rsquo;m glad I did, for we are great friends now; and I am sure the cross old birds would be quite pleased if they knew how nicely I am educating their young ones, and how their manners have improved. But I say, Mr. Fraser, don&rsquo;t tell Pigott; she cannot climb trees, and does not like to see me do it. She does not know I went after them myself.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Mr. Fraser laughed.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I won&rsquo;t tell her, Angela, my dear; but you must be careful &#8212; you might tumble and kill yourself.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think I shall, Mr. Fraser, unless I am meant to. God looks after me as much when I am up a tree as when I am upon the ground.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Once more he had nothing to say; he could not venture to disturb her faith.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I will walk home with you, my dear. Tell me. Angela, would you like to learn?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Learn! &#8212; learn what?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Books, and the languages that other nations, nations that have passed away, used to talk, and how to calculate numbers and distances.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Yes, I should like to learn very much; but who will teach me? I have learnt all Pigott knows two years ago, and since then I have been trying to learn about the trees and flowers and stars; but I look and watch, and can&rsquo;t understand.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Ah! my dear, contact with Nature is the highest education; but the mind that would appreciate her wonders must have a foundation of knowledge to work upon. The uneducated man is rarely sensitive to the thousand beauties and marvels of the fields around him, and the skies above him. But, if you like, I will teach you, Angela. I am practically an idle man, and it will give me great pleasure; but you must promise to work and do what I tell you.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Oh, how good you are! Of course I will work. When am I to begin?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know &#8212; to-morrow, if you like; but I must speak to your father first.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Her face fell a little at the mention of her father&rsquo;s name, but presently she said, quietly &#8212;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;My father, he will not care if I learn or not. I hardly ever see my father; he does not like me. I see nobody but Pigott and you and old Jakes, and Sam sometimes. You need not ask my father; he will never miss me whilst I am learning. Ask Pigott.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">At that moment Pigott herself hove into view, in a great flurry.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Oh, here you are, Miss Angela! Where have you been to, you naughty girl? At some of your star-gazing tricks again, I&rsquo;ll be bound, frightening the life out of a body. It&rsquo;s just too bad of you, Miss Angela.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">The little girl looked at her with a peculiarly winning smile, and took her very solid hand between her own tiny palms.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be cross, Pigott, dear,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t mean to frighten you. I couldn&rsquo;t help going &#8212; I couldn&rsquo;t indeed; and then I stopped talking to Mr. Fraser.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;There, there, I should just like to know who can be cross with you when you put on those ways. Are your feet wet? Ah! I thought so. Run on in and take them off.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Won&rsquo;t that be just a little difficult?&rdquo; and she was gone with a merry laugh.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;There, sir, that&rsquo;s just like her, catching a body up like and twisting what she says, till you don&rsquo;t know which is head and which is heels. I&rsquo;ll be bound you found her down yonder;&rdquo; and she nodded towards the churchyard.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Pigott drew a little nearer, and spoke in a low voice.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;&lsquo;Tis my belief, sir, that that child sees <span class="t31">things</span>; she is just the oddest child I ever saw. There&rsquo;s nothing she likes better than to slip out of a night, and to go to that there beastly churchyard, saving your presence, for &lsquo;company,&rsquo; as she calls it &#8212; nice sort of company, indeed. And it is just the same way with storms. You remember that dreadful gale a month ago, the one that took down the North Grove and blew the spire off Rewtham Church. Well, just when it was at its worst, and I was a-sitting and praying that the roof might keep over our heads, I look round for Angela, and can&rsquo;t see her. &lsquo;Some of your tricks again,&rsquo; thinks I to myself; and just then up comes Mrs. Jakes to say that Sam had seen little missy creeping down the tunnel walk. I was that scared that I ran down, got hold of Sam, for Jakes said he wouldn&rsquo;t go out with all them trees a-flying about in the air like straws &#8212; no, not for a thousand pounds, and off we set after her.&rdquo; Here Pigott paused to groan at the recollection of that walk.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Mr. Fraser, who was rather interested &#8212; everything about this queer child interested him; &ldquo;where did you find her?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Well, sir, you know where the old wall runs out into the water, before Caresfoot&rsquo;s Staff there? Well, at the end of it there&rsquo;s a post sunk in, with a ring in it to tie boats to. Now, would you believe it? out there at the end of the wall, and tied to the ring by a scarf passed round her middle, was that dreadful child. She was standing there, her back against the post, right in the teeth of the gale, with the spray dashing over her, her arms stretched out before her, her hat gone, her long hair standing out behind straight as an iron bar, and her eyes flashing as though they were on fire, and all the while there were the great trees crashing down all round in a way enough to make a body sick with fright. We got her back safe, thank God; but how long we shall keep her, I&rsquo;m sure I don&rsquo;t know. Now she is drowning herself in the lake, for she takes to the water like a duck, and now breaking her neck off trees, and now going to ghosts in the churchyard for company. It&rsquo;s wearing me to the bone &#8212; that&rsquo;s what it is.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Mr. Fraser smiled, for, to tell the truth, Pigott&rsquo;s bones were pretty comfortably covered.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Come,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you would not part with her for all her wicked deeds, would you?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Part with her,&rdquo; answered Pigott, in hot indignation, &ldquo;part with my little beauty? I would rather part with my head. The love, there never was another like her, nor never will be, with her sweet ways; and, if I know anything about girls, she&rsquo;ll be the beauty of England, she will. She&rsquo;s made for a beautiful woman; and look at them eyes and forehead and hair &#8212; where did you ever see the like? And, as for her queer ways, what can you expect from a child as has got a great empty mind and nothing to put in it, and no one to talk to but a common woman like me, and a father&rdquo; &#8212; here she dropped her voice&#8212;&rdquo;as is a miser, and hates the sight of his own flesh and blood?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Hush! you should not say such things, Pigott! Now I will tell you something; I am going on to ask your master to allow me to educate Angela.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I&rsquo;m right glad to hear it, sir. She&rsquo;s sharp enough to learn anything, and it&rsquo;s kind of you to teach her. If you can make her mind like what her body will be if she lives, somebody will be a lucky man one of these days. Good-night, sir, and many thanks for bringing missy home.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Next day Angela began her education.</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p29"><span class="t29">此</span><span class="t28">刻</span><span class="t27">或</span><span class="t28">应</span><span class="t27">为</span><span class="t28">读</span><span class="t27">者</span>揭开这座古老宅邸的面纱——诸多人物曾在此间演绎悲欢离合的舞台。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p29">所谓修道院宅邸，实为隐修院历任院长的居所。与后方废墟同样由灰石砌就，经年累月的苔藓更添沧桑，墙体异常坚厚。狭长的建筑参差错落，原本朱红的窄瓦历经数百年褪作暗褐。宴会厅独立于北端，以廊道与主宅相连。宅邸面西而立，前窗俯瞰如公园般开阔的草场，古橡参天，其中若干截顶老树或可追溯至征服者威廉时代。春日里，两排雄伟胡桃树构成的赭褐色长带，在橡林新绿中格外醒目——这条足有半英里长的林荫道，正是通往罗克瑟姆大路的车马径。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">宅后围墙花园曾以早熟闻名僧侣界。沿南墙行不足百步，便见隐修院废墟散布如星，世代为周遭村民提供石料。残存建筑虽不多，但恢弘的门廊仍昭示着昔日的规模。穿过废墟是昔日的教会墓地，今已垦为农田。教堂本身拥有精美的钟楼，除若干上佳黄铜碑铭与一尊橡木实心雕制的巨硕僧侣像外，别无特色——据传此像系纪念某位于爱德华一世时期圆寂的院长。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">宅邸南端有片灌木环绕的草坪与小游园，两株雪松巍然矗立。较远那株树下有条穿越密林的小径，两侧椴树夹道，名曰"隧道步道"，通往湖畔小空地——凯尔斯福特之杖便立于此。湖水半天然半人工，周长足有一英里，宽五十至二百码不等，形如人足：鞋跟朝西与宅邸相对却更突出，凹陷的足弓部正对宅邸，鞋底则向东扩展。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">布拉瑟姆修道院整体堪称杰作，最非凡处在于它亘古的忧郁与肃穆的岑寂。虽无大教堂拱廊予人的宗教敬畏，却以更温柔的力度叩击心灵。世代如我们般的凡人以此為家，身名俱灭后，唯宅邸默记着他们的故事。那些早已骨朽形销的手，栽下的橡树胡桃犹自岁岁披绿，秋枯冬朽，待春重生。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">此地萦绕着无形却真实的往昔之重。空气里记忆稠密如墓穴灰烬。纵使盛夏万物狂喜，宅邸依然哀戚。而隆冬时节，当狂风呼啸过呻吟的树丛，驱赶铅灰残云掠过死色天空，当鸟雀噤声、牛羊绝迹于泥泞草坪，那种与世隔绝的忧郁便成了可触摸的实体。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">这座苍老的宅邸恍若通往"往昔"冥界的石门，以石质的悲哀俯视即将跨过其门槛的愚者。对智者而言，它满载世代警世余音。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">安吉拉便在此间长成少女。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">自前尘往事落幕，倏忽已过九年半光景。这日傍晚，弗雷泽牧师在书房埋首终日，打算挑灯夜读前稍事活动。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">这位身材修长、面容略带神经质的男子，生就一双黑眸与敏感的嘴唇，因常年伏案而微驼的背上，几乎烙着"学者"二字。他的人生轨迹平淡无奇：年少时便以古典文学与数学天赋在学院大放异彩，后凭亲戚提携获此教职——辖区人口稀少而俸禄丰厚。既无生计之忧，他便终日与书册为伴，仅以有限的教区事务调剂生活，从未想过投身名利场的浊流。世人皆叹明珠暗投，殊不知这羞怯敏感的天性，恰与孤灯黄卷的生涯最为相得，远胜于在攀登"成功"神庙的滑溜斜坡上，与贪婪众生推搡挣扎。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">这般人物世间不少——读者诸君或识得一二。他们穷尽心力采撷知识花蜜，收集浩繁科学数据，垒砌测算星辰的公式，却多徒劳无功。通常不事著述，只为学问本身而甘愿心血湮没。年复一年，直至金碗破碎、泉边陶罐崩裂，毕生所学终似重归太虚。嗟乎！若世代智慧经验——尤是血泪教训——能完璧相传，人类早登神境。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">时值十月末一个温煦之夜，弗雷泽牧师沿湖漫步归来，月华满襟。途经教堂墓地时，忽见孤墙畔伫立着纤弱人影，正凝望老乡绅与儿媳希尔达的埋骨处。驻足细看，那身影转过脸来——灰眸金发，赫然是安吉拉·凯尔斯福特。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"安吉拉，夜半来此作甚？"牧师讶然问道。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">少女与他笨拙握手时，颊边飞起红晕。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"别恼我，"她怯生生道，"今晚实在孤清，特来寻些陪伴。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"来墓地寻陪伴？此言何意？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">她垂首不语。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"但说无妨。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"我自己也不甚明了，如何说得清？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">见她愈发困惑，少女继续道——</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"我试着说给您听，可别像皮戈特那样听不懂就发脾气。有时我觉得孤独极了，仿佛在寻找什么却总找不到，这时来母亲坟前站站，便得了慰藉不再寂寞。我只能说这么多，您会觉得我傻吗？皮戈特就这么认为。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"你是个奇特的孩子。夜半独行至此，当真不怕？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"怕？才不！村里人天黑后不敢来，说废墟里尽是幽灵——杰克斯告诉我的。可我大概太笨，从没见过它们，虽然我特别想见。前几日对父亲提起这事，他脸色煞白，还责怪皮戈特给我灌输怪念头。其实皮戈特才没说过这些。我喜欢来这里，多安静啊，只要静得够久，总能听见别人听不见的声音。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"你听见了什么？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"听见许多，却听不懂。您听那棵栗树上的风声，落叶正簌簌作响——它分明在诉说，只恨我参不透。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"孩子，你说得对。"牧师轻叹，"若我们耳聪目明，自然万物无不在诉说永恒真理。"这孩子的言语触动了他常思的命题，更令他惊异的是其中蕴含的古怪而深邃的智慧。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"今晚多美好啊，弗雷泽先生，"小姑娘又说，"万物都在安详死去。去年它们还在风雨中痛苦挣扎，今年却走得平静。看那掠过月亮的云彩，多美！不知它是天上何物的影子。我想所有云朵都是天堂某物的投影。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"若无云时呢？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"噢！那时天堂必是静谧欢喜的。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"但天堂本应永沐喜乐。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"当真？若<em>我们</em>去了那里，天堂怎会永远喜乐？该有多少伤心事啊。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">弗雷泽牧师一时语塞——这童言竟道破神学难题。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">他望着流云，顺着她的幻想说道："我看这云影是苍鹰叼着羔羊回巢。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"我倒觉得，"她自信满满，"是天使抱着婴孩归家。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">牧师再度哑然。这意象比他的诗意百倍。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"此女心思殊异。"他暗忖。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">未及深思，少女话锋陡转："您见过杰克和吉尔吗？可有趣啦！"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"杰克和吉尔是谁？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"当然是我的渡鸦呀！从湖边那棵空心老树里掏来的。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"那棵树？鸦巢离地足有五十英尺！谁帮你取的？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"我自己呀！山姆——您认识山姆吧——他怕摔下来，又怕老鸦啄眼。有天清早我自个儿去了，脖子上挂个布袋就往上爬。差点摔下来呢！好不容易够到朽枝上的树洞，里头三只雏鸟张着大嘴。我留了一只给老鸟，带着两只往下爬时，那对老夫妻发现了，扑棱着翅膀啄我脑袋——瞧这疤！"她亮出手背伤痕，"可我死死抓着布袋不松手。现在它们跟我可亲啦！要是老鸟知道我把孩子教得多好，准保高兴。不过您千万别告诉皮戈特——她爬不了树，也不许我爬。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">弗雷泽忍俊不禁。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"我保密，亲爱的安吉拉。但你要当心——摔下来会没命的。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"不会的，弗雷泽先生。上帝既看顾地上的我，也看顾树上的我。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">牧师又一次无言以对——他不忍撼动这份赤诚。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"我送你回家吧。安吉拉，想读书吗？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"读书？读什么书？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"书本，还有那些消亡国度用过的语言，还有算术和测量。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"想啊！可谁教我呢？皮戈特肚里的墨水两年前就被我掏空了。后来我试着琢磨花草树木和星星，可怎么瞧也参不透。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"啊！亲近自然固然是最高学问，但领略其奥妙需以知识为基。未经教化之人，鲜能感知天地间的万千神奇。若你愿意，安吉拉，我来教你。我这闲人正愁无事，教你反倒成全了我。不过你得保证用功。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"您真好！我保证用功。几时开课？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"明日如何？不过得先征令尊同意。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">听到父亲二字，她笑容微敛，旋即轻声道："父亲才不在乎我学不学。我难得见他一面——他不喜欢我。平日除了皮戈特、您、老杰克斯和偶尔露面的山姆，我谁也见不着。不必问他，我上课时他横竖不会察觉。问皮戈特就行。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">正说着，皮戈特风风火火闯进视线。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"可算找着你了，安吉拉小姐！又跑哪儿野去了？准是偷看星星吓唬我这老婆子！你这孩子真叫人操心！"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">小姑娘绽开甜笑，将那双小手掌贴在妇人粗粝的手背上。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"别恼嘛，亲爱的皮戈特，"她娇声道，"我不是存心吓你。实在忍不住才溜出来——后来碰见弗雷泽先生就聊上了。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"罢了罢了，你这副模样谁还忍心责怪？脚湿了吧？我就知道！快进屋换鞋。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"光着脚丫怎么换呀？"她银铃般的笑声飘远。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"瞧瞧，先生，她就这德行，专会抓人话柄曲解，叫人晕头转向。我敢打赌您准是在那边墓园找着她的。"她朝教堂墓地努嘴。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"正是。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">皮戈特凑近些，压低嗓门："要我说，这孩子能看见<em>那些东西</em>——从没见过这么古怪的丫头。最爱趁夜溜去那阴森墓地，还美其名曰'找伴儿'——呸！上月那场大风暴您记得吧？北树林倒了一片，瑞瑟姆教堂尖顶都刮飞了。最吓人那会儿，我正祷告屋顶别塌，一扭头安吉拉小姐没影了。我赶紧叫上山姆——杰克斯那怂货说给一千镑也不敢出门——冒着满天乱飞的树干去找她。"皮戈特想起那趟险途仍心有余悸。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"后来呢？"弗雷泽先生听得入神——这古怪孩子的任何事都令他着迷。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"您知道凯尔斯福特之杖旁边有段伸进水里的老墙吧？墙头铁环上拴着条围巾，那要命的孩子就绑在围巾上！她背靠木桩站在风口浪尖，浪花拍得浑身湿透，双臂前伸，帽子早飞了，长发像铁棍般笔直向后飘，眼睛亮得像着火——四周大树噼里啪啦倒下来，吓得我魂飞魄散！谢天谢地总算把她拽回来，可这丫头哪天不闯祸？不是投湖自尽——她凫水比鸭子还溜，就是爬树摔断脖子，再不然去坟地找鬼作伴！我这把老骨头早晚被她折腾散架！"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">弗雷泽先生忍俊不禁——皮戈特那身"骨头"分明裹着丰腴身躯。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"说真的，你舍得为这些淘气事不要她？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"不要我的心肝宝贝？"皮戈特勃然变色，"宁可不要脑袋！这天使般的孩子天上地下独一份！不是我夸口，这丫头将来准是全英国头号美人——瞧这眉眼，这额头，这头发！至于那些怪癖，您想啊，她空有颗玲珑心却没人往里装东西，整天只能跟我这粗婆子说话，摊上个守财奴爹——"她突然压低嗓门，"连亲生骨肉都嫌碍眼！"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"慎言！这话不该你说。我正打算请求你主人允许我教导安吉拉。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"阿弥陀佛！先生肯教真是再好不过。这丫头灵透得很，若能把心思调理得配得上将来那副好模样，不知哪个男人有福消受呢！夜安先生，多谢您送小姐回来。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">翌日，安吉拉的启蒙课便开始了。</p>

														
 
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															-<title>CHAPTER XVI</title>

														
 
															+<title>第十六章</title>

														
 
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															-<h2 class="h21"><a id="a299"></a><a id="a300"></a><a id="a301"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2>

														
 
															+<h2 class="h21"><a id="a299"></a><a id="a300"></a><a id="a301"></a>第十六章</h2>

														
 
															 <p class="p28"><span class="t25"><img src="images/img23.jpg" width="135" height="32" alt="img23.jpg"/></span></p>

														
 
															-<p class="p29"><span class="t29">R</span><span class="t28">EADER</span><span class="t27">, </span><span class="t28">WE</span><span class="t27"> </span><span class="t28">ARE</span><span class="t27"> </span>about to see Angela again, and to see a good deal of her; but you must be prepared for a change in her personal appearance, for the curtain has been down for ten years since last you met the child whose odd propensities excited Pigott&rsquo;s wonder and indignation and Mr. Fraser&rsquo;s interest; and ten years, as we all know, can work many changes in the history of the world and individuals. In ten years some have been swept clean off the board, and their places taken by others; a few have grown richer, many poorer, some of us sadder, some wiser, and all of us ten years older. Now, this was exactly what had happened to little Angela &#8212; that is, the Angela we knew as little, and ten years make curious differences between the slim child of nine and a half and the woman of nearly twenty.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">When we last saw her, Angela was about to commence her education. Let us re-introduce ourselves on the memorable evening when, after ten years of study, Mr. Fraser, a master by no means easily pleased, expressed himself unable to teach her any more.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">It is Christmas Eve. Drip, drop, drip, falls the rain from the leafless boughs on to the sodden earth. The apology for daylight that has been doing its dull duty for the last few hours is slowly effacing itself, and the gale is celebrating the fact, and showing its joy at the closing-in of the melancholy night by howling its loudest through the trees, and flogging the flying scud it has brought with it from the sea, till it whirls across the sky like a succession of ghostly racehorses.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">This is outside the vicarage; let us look within. In a well-worn arm- chair in the comfortable study, near to a table covered with books and holding some loose sheets of foolscap in his hand, sits Mr. Fraser. His hair is a little greyer than when he began Angela&rsquo;s education, about as grey as rather accommodating hair will get at the age of fifty-three; otherwise his general appearance is much the same, and his face as refined and gentlemanlike as ever. Presently he lays down the sheets of paper which he has been studying attentively, and says:</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Your solution is perfectly sound, Angela; but you have arrived at it in a characteristic fashion, and by your own road. Not but what your method has some merits &#8212; for one thing, it is more concise than my own; but, on the other hand, it shows a feminine weakness. It is not possible to follow every step from your premises to your conclusion, correct as it is.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; says a low voice, with a happy ripple in it, the owner of which is busy with some tea-things out of range of the ring of light thrown by the double reading-lamp, &ldquo;you often blame me for jumping to conclusions; but what does it matter, provided they are right? The whole secret is that I used the equivalent algebraic formula, but suppressed the working in order to puzzle you,&rdquo; and the voice laughed sweetly.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;That is not worthy of a mathematician,&rdquo; said Mr. Fraser, with some irritation; &ldquo;it is nothing but a trick, a <span class="t31">tour de force</span>.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;The solution is correct, you say?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Quite.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Then I maintain that it is perfectly mathematical; the object of mathematics is to arrive at the truth.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;<span class="t31">Vox et preterea nihil.</span> Come out of that corner, my dear. I hate arguing with a person I cannot see. But there, there, what is the use of arguing at all? The fact is, Angela, you are a first-class mathematician, and I am only second-class. I am obliged to stick to the old tracks; you cut a Roman road of your own. Great masters are entitled to do that. The algebraic formula never occurred to me when I worked the problem out, and it took me two days to do.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;You are trying to make me vain. You forget that whatever I know, which is just enough to show me how much I have to learn, I have learnt from you. As for being your superior in mathematics, I don&rsquo;t think that, as a clergyman, you should make such a statement. Here is your tea.&rdquo; And the owner of the voice came forward into the ring of light.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">She was tall beyond the ordinary height of woman, and possessed unusual beauty of form, that the tight-fitting grey dress she wore was well calculated to display. Her complexion, which was of a dazzling fairness, was set off by the darkness of the lashes that curled over the deep grey eyes. The face itself was rounded and very lovely, and surmounted by an ample forehead, whilst her hair, which was twisted into a massive knot, was of a tinge of chestnut gold, and marked with deep-set ripples. The charm of her face, however, did not, as is so often the case, begin and end with its physical attractions. There was more, much more, in it than that. But how is it possible to describe on paper a presence at once so full of grace and dignity, of the soft loveliness of woman, and of a higher and more spiritual beauty? There hangs in the Louvre a picture by Raphael, which represents a saint passing with light steps over the prostrate form of a dragon. There is in that heaven-inspired face, the equal of which has been rarely, if ever, put on canvas, a blending of earthly beauty and of the calm, awe-compelling spirit-gaze &#8212; that gaze, that holy dignity which can only come to such as are in truth and in deed &ldquo;pure in heart&rdquo; &#8212; that will give to those who know it a better idea of what Angela was like than any written description.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">At times, but, ah, how rarely! we may have seen some such look as that she wore on the faces of those around us. It may be brought by a great sorrow, or be the companion of an overwhelming joy. It may announce the consummation of some sublime self-sacrifice, or convey the swift assurance of an everlasting love. It is to be found alike on the features of the happy mother as she kisses her new-born babe, and on the pallid countenance of the saint sinking to his rest. The sharp moment that brings us nearer God, and goes nigh to piercing the veil that hides His presence, is the occasion that calls it into being. It is a beauty born of the murmuring sound of the harps of heaven; it is the light of the eternal lamp gleaming faintly through its earthly casket.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">This spirit-look, before which all wickedness must feel ashamed, had found a home in Angela&rsquo;s grey eyes. There was a strange nobility about her. Whether it dwelt in the stately form, or on the broad brow, or in the large glance of the deep eyes, it is not possible to say; but it was certainly a part of herself as self-evident as her face or features. She might well have been the inspiration of the lines that run:</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&rdquo;Truth in her might, beloved,</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Grand in her sway;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Truth with her eyes, beloved,</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Clearer than day;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Holy and pure, beloved,</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Spotless and free;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Is there one thing, beloved,</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Fairer than thee?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Mr. Fraser absently set down the tea that Angela was giving him when we took the liberty to describe her personal appearance.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Now, Angela, read a little.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;What shall I read?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Oh! anything you like; please yourself.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Thus enjoined, she went to a bookshelf, and, taking down two volumes, handed one to Mr. Fraser, and then, opening her copy at haphazard, announced the page to her companion, and, sitting down, began to read.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">What sound is this, now soft and melodious as the sweep of a summer gale over a southern sea, and now again like to the distant stamp and rush and break of the wave of battle? What can it be but the roll of those magnificent hexameters with which Homer charms a listening world. And rarely have English lips given them with a juster cadence.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Stop, my dear, shut up your book; you are as good a Greek scholar as I can make you. Shut up your book for the last time. Your education, my dear Angela, is satisfactorily completed. I have succeeded with you &#8212; &#8212;&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Completed, Mr. Fraser!&rdquo; said Angela, open-eyed. &ldquo;Do you mean to say that I am to stop now just as I have begun to learn?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;My dear, you have learnt everything that I can teach you, and, besides, I am going away the day after to-morrow.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Going away!&rdquo; and then and there, without the slightest warning, Angela &#8212; who, for all her beauty and learning, very much resembled the rest of her sex &#8212; burst into tears.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Come, come, Angela,&rdquo; said Mr. Fraser, in a voice meant to be gruff, but only succeeding in being husky, for, oddly enough, it is trying even to a clergyman on the wrong side of middle-age to be wept over by a lovely woman; &ldquo;don&rsquo;t be nonsensical; I am only going for a few months.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">At this intelligence she pulled up a little.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; she said, between her sobs, &ldquo;how you frightened me! How could you be so cruel! Where are you going to?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I am going for a long trip in southern Europe. Do you know that I have scarcely been away from this place for twenty years, so I mean to celebrate the conclusion of our studies by taking a holiday.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I wish you would take me with you.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Mr. Fraser coloured slightly, and his eye brightened. He sighed as he answered &#8212;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I am afraid, my dear, that it would be impossible.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Something warned Angela not to pursue the subject.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Now, Angela, I believe that it is usual, on the occasion of the severance of a scholastic connection, to deliver something in the nature of a farewell oration. Well, I am not going to do that, but I want you to listen to a few words.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">She did not answer, but, drawing a stool to a corner of the fireplace, she wiped her eyes and sat down almost at his feet, clasping her knees with her hands, and gazing rather sadly into the fire.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;You have, dear Angela,&rdquo; he began, &ldquo;been educated in a somewhat unusual way, with the result that, after ten years of steady work that has been always interesting, though sometimes arduous, you have acquired information denied to the vast majority of your sex, whilst at the same time you could be put to the blush in many things by a school-girl of fifteen. For instance, though I firmly believe that you could at the present moment take a double first at the University, your knowledge of English literature is almost nil, and your history of the weakest. All a woman&rsquo;s ordinary accomplishments, such as drawing, playing, singing, have of necessity been to a great extent neglected, since I was not able to teach them to you myself, and you have had to be guided solely by books and by the light of Nature in giving to them such time as you could spare.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Your mind, on the other hand, has been daily saturated with the noblest thoughts of the intellectual giants of two thousand years ago, and would in that respect be as much in place in a well-educated Grecian maiden living before the time of Christ as in an English girl of the nineteenth century.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I have educated you thus, Angela, partly by accident and partly by design. You will remember when you began to come here some ten years since &#8212; you were a little thing then &#8212; and I had offered to give you some teaching, because you interested me, and I saw that you were running wild in mind and body. But, when I had undertaken the task I was somewhat puzzled how to carry it out. It is one thing to offer to educate a little girl, and another to do it. Not knowing where to begin, I fell back upon the Latin grammar, where I had begun myself, and so by degrees you slid into the curriculum of a classical and mathematical education. Then, after a year or two, I perceived your power of work and your great natural ability, and I formed a design. I said to myself, &lsquo;I will see how far a woman cultivated under favourable conditions can go. I will patiently teach this girl till the literature of Greece and Rome become as familiar to her as her mother-tongue, till figures and symbols hide no mysteries from her, till she can read the heavens like a book. I will teach her mind to follow the secret ways of knowledge, I will train it till it can soar above its fellows like a falcon above sparrows.&rsquo; Angela, my proud design, pursued steadily through many years, has been at length accomplished; your bright intellect has risen to the strain I have put upon it, and you are at this moment one of the best all-round scholars of my acquaintance.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">She flushed to the eyes at this high praise, and was about to speak, but he stopped her with a motion of the hand, and went on:</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I have recognized in teaching you a fact but too little known, that a classical education, properly understood, is the foundation of all learning. There is little that is worth saying which has not already been beautifully said by the ancients, little that is worthy of meditation on which they have not already profoundly reflected, save, indeed, the one great subject of Christian meditation. This foundation, my dear Angela, you possess to an eminent degree. Henceforth you will need no assistance from me or any other man, for, to your trained mind, all ordinary knowledge will be easy to assimilate. You will receive in the course of a few days a parting present from myself in the shape of a box of carefully chosen books on European literature and history. Devote yourself to the study of these, and of the German language, which was your mother&rsquo;s native tongue, for the next year, and then I shall consider that you are fairly finished, and then, too, my dear Angela, I shall expect to reap a full reward for my labours.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;What is it that you will expect of me?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I shall expect, Angela,&rdquo; and he rose from his chair and walked up and down the room in his excitement&#8212;&rdquo;I shall expect to see you take your proper place in your generation. I shall say: &lsquo;Choose your own line, become a critical scholar, a practical mathematician, or &#8212; and perhaps that is what you are most suited for with your imaginative powers &#8212; a writer of fiction. For remember that fiction, properly understood and directed to worthy aims, is the noblest and most far-reaching, as it is also the most difficult of the arts.&rsquo; In watching the success that will assuredly attend you in this or any other line, I shall be amply rewarded for my trouble.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Angela shook her head with a gesture of doubt, but he did not wait for her to answer.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Well, my dear, I must not keep you any longer &#8212; it is quite dark and blowing a gale of wind &#8212; except to say one more word. Remember that all this is &#8212; indirectly perhaps, but still none the less truly &#8212; a means to an end. There are two educations, the education of the mind and the education of the soul; unless you minister to the latter, all the time and toil spent upon the former will prove to little purpose. The learning will, it is true, remain; but it will be as the quartz out of which the gold has been already crushed, or the dry husks of corn. It will be valueless and turn to no good use, will serve only to feed the swine of intellectual voluptuousness and infidelity. It is, believe me, the higher learning of the soul that gilds our earthly lore. The loftier object of all education is so to train the intellect that it may become competent to understand something, however little, of the nature of our God, and to the true Christian the real end of learning is the appreciation of His attributes as exemplified in His mysteries and earthly wonders. But perhaps that is a subject on which you are as well fitted to discourse as I am, so I will not enter into it. &lsquo;Finis,&rsquo; my dear, &lsquo;finis.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Angela&rsquo;s answer to this long oration was a simple one. She rose slowly from her low seat, and, putting her hands upon Mr. Fraser&rsquo;s shoulders, kissed him on the forehead and said &#8212;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;How shall I ever learn to be grateful enough for all I owe you? What should I have been now but for you? How good and patient you have been to me!&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">This embrace affected the clergyman strangely; he put his hand to his heart, and a troubled look came into his eyes. Thrusting her gently away from him, he sat down.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Angela,&rdquo; he said presently, &ldquo;go away now, dear, I am tired to-night;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">I shall see you at church to-morrow to say good-by.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">And so she went homewards, through the wind and storm, little knowing that she left her master to struggle with a tempest far more tremendous than that which raged around her.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">As for him, as the door closed, he gave a sigh of relief.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Pray God I have not put it off too long,&rdquo; he said to himself. &ldquo;And now for to-morrow&rsquo;s sermon. Sleep for the young! laughter for the happy! work for old fools &#8212; work, work, work!&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">And thus it was that Angela became a scholar.</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p29"><span class="t29">读</span><span class="t28">者</span><span class="t27">诸</span><span class="t28">君</span><span class="t27">，</span>我们即将重逢安吉拉——且将见证她生命的重要篇章。但请准备好迎接她的蜕变，因为自那个令皮戈特惊诧、让弗雷泽先生着迷的古怪女孩登场后，时光帷幕已垂落十年。这十年足以令沧海桑田：有人永远退出人生棋局，空位被新人填补；少数人腰缠万贯，更多人囊空如洗；我们中有的添了沧桑，有的长了智慧，而所有人都被岁月刻下十道年轮。此刻的安吉拉——那个我们记忆中的小女孩——正经历着同样的蜕变。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">上次分别时，她即将开始求学之旅。让我们在这个具有纪念意义的夜晚重新相识——经过十年寒窗，连严师弗雷泽先生都坦言再无新知可授。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">圣诞前夜。雨滴从枯枝坠入泥泞大地，苟延残喘的暮光正被夜色吞噬，狂风以最猛烈的呼啸庆祝黑夜降临，裹挟着海雾如幽灵赛马般掠过天际。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">这是牧师寓所外的景象。且看室内：书房壁炉旁，弗雷泽先生坐在磨旧的扶手椅中，手持几页稿纸。比起十年前初为人师时，他鬓角虽添霜色——五十三岁的头发总是格外识趣——但儒雅气质未减分毫。他放下研读多时的文稿说道：</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"论证完全正确，安吉拉，但解法极具个人特色。你的方法虽比我的简练，却暴露了女性思维的弱点——推导过程存在跳跃，尽管结论无误。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"您总怪我直奔结论，"灯影外的低语带着欢快涟漪，茶具在她手中叮当作响，"但结果正确不就行了？其实我用了等效代数公式，故意隐去步骤好为难您。"银铃般的笑声在书房荡漾。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"这绝非数学家所为，"弗雷泽先生不悦道，"不过是投机取巧的<span class="t31">炫技</span>。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"可您承认答案正确？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"确然。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"那么我的解法就是完美的数学——数学的终极目标不正是抵达真理么？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"<span class="t31">空言无补</span>。别躲在暗处，我讨厌和隐形人辩论。"他摆摆手，"罢了，何必争论？安吉拉，你是一流数学家，我不过二流。我只能循规蹈矩，你却开辟罗马大道。大师自有特权——我花两天解这道题时，压根没想到代数公式。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"您这是要惯坏我。我这点皮毛——刚够明白自己多么无知——可全是您教的。至于数学造诣超过牧师？这种话可不虔诚。"随着茶香浮动，声音的主人踏入光晕。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">她身量较寻常女子更为修长，一袭紧身灰裙勾勒出罕见的美好曲线。瓷白肌肤被浓密睫毛衬得愈发晶莹，睫毛下深灰色眼眸如含星云。鹅蛋脸精致完美，饱满前额上方盘着栗金色发髻，发丝间漾着深深波纹。然而这面容的魅力远不止于皮相——该如何用文字描述这兼具优雅与庄严、柔美与灵韵的存在？卢浮宫有幅拉斐尔圣像画：圣女轻盈踏过恶龙躯壳。那天启般的容颜——尘世难觅的圣洁与超然——恰似安吉拉的神韵。那目光中神圣的威严，唯"清心的人"方能拥有。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">我们或曾在周遭人脸上惊鸿一瞥这般神采：或许在巨大悲恸时，或许在狂喜降临际；或许见证崇高牺牲的完成，或许传递永恒爱意的确证。它既浮现在亲吻新生儿的母亲眉梢，也栖居于安息圣徒苍白的容颜。当尖锐时刻带我们接近上帝，几乎刺穿遮蔽祂的面纱，这神采便油然而生。这是天国竖琴呢喃孕育的美，是永恒之灯透过尘世灯罩的微光。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">这般令一切邪祟自惭形秽的圣洁之光，已在安吉拉的灰眸中永驻。她周身散发着奇异的尊贵——或许蕴于挺拔仪态，或许藏于宽阔前额，又或许凝于深邃眼波——但这份气质确如她的五官般浑然天成。以下诗行仿佛专为她而作：</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;">

														
 
															+真理在她力量中，吾爱<br>

														
 
															+庄严统御四方<br>

														
 
															+真理在她明眸中，吾爱<br>

														
 
															+清澈胜似晨光<br>

														
 
															+圣洁无瑕，吾爱<br>

														
 
															+自由无垢<br>

														
 
															+世间可有，吾爱<br>

														
 
															+比你更美者否？

														
 
															+</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">当我们冒昧描摹她容貌时，弗雷泽先生正心不在焉地接过她递来的茶盏。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"现在，安吉拉，读点什么吧。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"读什么呢？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"随你心意。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">她依言走向书架，取下两册书，将其中一册递给弗雷泽先生。信手翻开自己那册，向同伴报过页码后，便坐下诵读起来。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">这是何等声音？时而如南国海风抚浪般柔美，时而似远方战阵杀伐般铿锵。除却荷马倾注世间的雄浑六步格诗行，更有何物能臻此境？而英语唇齿间吐露的希腊韵律，罕有比她更精准者。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"停吧，亲爱的，合上你的书——你的希腊文造诣已尽得我真传。"牧师声音微颤，"这是最后一课。安吉拉，你的学业圆满完成了。我成功了——"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"完成？"安吉拉睁大泪眼，"我才刚窥见知识门径，您就要喊停？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"孩子，我已倾囊相授。何况——"他喉结滚动，"后天我就要启程了。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"启程？"话音未落，这位才貌双全的姑娘——终究难逃女儿家本色——泪珠已断了线。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"好了好了，"弗雷泽先生试图用粗声掩饰哽咽，却只挤出沙哑的音调。原来即便年过半百的牧师，面对美人垂泪也难免心弦震颤，"别孩子气，不过暂别数月。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">听闻此言，她泪闸稍敛。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"您吓死我了！"她抽噎着，"怎么这样狠心！要去哪儿？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"去南欧长途旅行。这二十年来我几乎足不出户，如今正好用这场休假庆祝你学成。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"带我同去可好？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">弗雷泽先生颊边掠过红晕，眸光微亮。叹息却先于回答："恐怕不行，亲爱的。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">安吉拉从某种直觉中收了声。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"按惯例，师生缘尽时该有番临别赠言。"他凝视火光，"我不说套话，但请听几句肺腑之言。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">她默然拖过脚凳偎在壁炉边，手抱双膝望向炉火，泪痕未干的脸上映着跃动的光影。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"你这十年所受的教育非同寻常，安吉拉。"他沉声道，"虽课业繁重却始终乐在其中，如今所获学识已远超绝大多数女性。但若论某些方面——"炉火噼啪一响，"恐怕要被十五岁女学生笑话。比如你此刻若考牛津大学，准能拿下双优等，却对英国文学近乎无知，历史功底也薄弱。至于绘画、钢琴、声乐这些闺秀技艺，因我无力亲授，你仅靠自学终究欠缺。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"而你的心智——"炉火在他镜片上投下跳动的光斑，"每日浸润于两千年前思想巨擘的智慧，若将你置于公元前受过良好教育的希腊少女中，也不会显得格格不入。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"这般教育方式，半出偶然半属刻意。还记得十年前初来时的情景吗？那时你尚是稚童，我因见你身心野性难驯才主动施教。起初不知从何着手，只得从拉丁文法启蒙——正如我幼时所受之教。渐渐地，你便滑入了古典文学与数理的轨道。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">他忽然倾身向前，火光在白发间流转："一两年后，我察觉你天赋异禀，遂生宏愿：倒要看看得天独厚的女子能走多远。我要让希腊罗马文献成为你第二母语，让数学符号再无奥秘，让星空如画卷般明晰。我要教你循知识秘径前行，直至如苍鹰凌驾群雀。"老牧师声音微颤，"安吉拉，这骄傲的愿景历经多年耕耘，终得圆满。你聪慧的头脑不负所托，此刻已是我所知最全面的学者。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">这番盛赞让她连耳尖都泛起红晕。刚欲开口，却被他抬手止住："教导你让我悟得个中真谛——真正的古典教育乃一切学问根基。除基督教冥思外，古人早已将值得言说之事道尽，将值得深思之理参透。亲爱的，你已臻此境。此后无需我或他人指点，寻常学问于你皆可融会贯通。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"不日将收到我精选的欧洲文史典籍作为临别赠礼。未来一年潜心研读，兼修你母亲的母语德语，届时方算真正学成。"他凝视火光轻声道，"而那时，亲爱的，我也将收获耕耘的硕果。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"您期盼我成为怎样的人？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"我期盼你——"他突然起身踱步，衣袍在炉火映照下翻涌如浪，"在属于你的时代占据应有位置。或做考据学者，或为实用数学家，抑或——"他驻足凝视她，"以你丰沛的想象力，成为小说家亦是最佳选择。须知立意高远的小说，实为艺术之巅。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">安吉拉犹疑摇头，他却已继续道："不必此刻回答。夜已深，狂风正劲，最后再赠一言——"他声音忽如浸透经卷的羊皮纸般沉厚，"切记学问终究只是手段。心智教育之外，更有灵魂培育。若忽视后者，前者便如淘尽金粒的石英，或仅剩谷壳。这种学识只会滋养智识上的放荡与怀疑。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">老牧师指节叩击《圣经》封面："灵魂的高等学问，方能为尘世知识镀金。教育的终极目的，是让心智足以窥见上帝本质的吉光片羽。于真基督徒而言，学问尽头当是领悟祂显于奇迹与尘世的神性。"他突然自嘲般轻笑，"这些道理你本已参透，倒是我饶舌了。就此，落幕。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">安吉拉缓缓起身，双手轻按他肩头，在前额印下一吻："教我如何报答这再造之恩？若非您，我今当何等蒙昧？十载春风化雨..."</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">这亲昵举动令牧师陡然按住心口，眼底泛起波澜。他轻轻推开她，跌坐椅中："去吧，今夜我倦了。"话音未竟，窗外暴风恰将一截枯枝拍上窗棂，恍若命运叩门。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"明日教堂作别罢。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">她踏入风雨归途，浑然不知导师正经历着比外界狂风更猛烈的内心风暴。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">当门扉闭合，牧师长舒一口气。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"但愿醒悟未迟。"他喃喃自语，"而今夜当预备明日布道辞。青春者得享安眠，幸福者得享欢笑，老朽如我者——"鹅毛笔尖在稿纸上沙沙作响，"唯有伏案，伏案，伏案！"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">安吉拉的学者之路，由此铸就。</p>

														
 
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															-<title>CHAPTER XVII</title>

														
 
															+<title>第十七章</title>

														
 
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															-<h2 class="h21"><a id="a302"></a><a id="a303"></a><a id="a304"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2>

														
 
															+<h2 class="h21"><a id="a302"></a><a id="a303"></a><a id="a304"></a>第十七章</h2>

														
 
															 <p class="p28"><span class="t25"><img src="images/img23.jpg" width="135" height="32" alt="img23.jpg"/></span></p>

														
 
															-<p class="p29"><span class="t29">T</span><span class="t28">HE</span><span class="t27"> </span><span class="t28">WINTER</span><span class="t27"> </span><span class="t28">MONTHS</span><span class="t27"> </span>passed away slowly for Angela, but not by any means unhappily. Though she was quite alone and missed Mr. Fraser sadly, she found considerable consolation in his present of books, and in the thought that she was getting a good hold of her new subjects of study. And then came the wonder of the spring with its rush of budding life, and who, least of all Angela, could be sad in springtime? But nevertheless that spring marked an important change in our heroine, for it was during its sweet hours, when, having put her books aside, she would roam alone, or in company with her ravens, through the flower-starred woods around the lake, that a feeling of restlessness, amounting at times almost to dissatisfaction, took possession of her. Indeed, as the weeks crept on and she drew near the completion of her twentieth year, she realized with a sigh that she could no longer call herself a girl, and began to feel that her life was incomplete, that something was wanting in it. And this was what was wanting in Angela&rsquo;s life: she had, if we except her nurse, no one to love, and she had so much love to give!</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Did she but guess it, the still recesses of her heart already tremble to the footfall of one now drawing near: out of the multitude of the lives around her, a life is marked to mingle with her own. She does not know it, but as the first reflection of the dawn strikes the unconscious sky and shadows the coming of its king, so the red flush that now so often springs unbidden to her brow, tells of girlhood&rsquo;s twilight ended, and proclaims the advent of woman&rsquo;s life and love.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Angela,&rdquo; called her father one day, as he heard her footsteps passing his study, &ldquo;come in here; I want to speak to you.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">His daughter stopped, and a look of blank astonishment spread itself over her face. She had not been called into that study for years. She entered, however, as bidden. Her father, who was seated at his writing-table, which was piled up with account-books, did not greatly differ in appearance from what he was when we last saw him twenty years ago. His frame had grown more massive, and acquired a slight stoop, but he was still a young, powerful-looking man, and certainly did not appear a day more than his age of forty-two. The eyes, however, so long as no one was looking at them, had contracted a concentrated stare, as though they were eternally gazing at some object in space, and this appearance was rendered the more marked by an apparently permanent puckering of the skin of the forehead. The moment, however, that they came under the fire of anybody else&rsquo;s optics, and, oddly enough, more particularly those of his own daughter, the stare vanished, and they grew shifty and uncertain to a curious degree.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Philip was employed in adding up something when his daughter entered, and motioned to her to sit down. She did so, and fixed her great grey eyes on him with some curiosity. The effect was remarkable; her father fidgeted, made a mistake in his calculations, glanced all round the room with his shifty eyes (ah, how changed from those bold black eyes with which Maria Lee fell in love four-and-twenty years ago!) and finally threw down his pen with an exclamation that would have shocked Angela had she understood it.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;How often, Angela, have I asked you not to stare me out of countenance! It is a most unladylike trick of yours.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">She blushed painfully.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I beg your pardon; I forgot. I will look out of the window.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be a fool; look like other people. But now I want to speak to you. In the first place, I find that the household expenditure for the last year was three hundred and fifty pounds. That is more than I can afford; it must not exceed three hundred this year.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I will do my best to keep the expenses down, father; but I can assure you that there is no money wasted now.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Then came a pause, which, after humming and hawing a little, Philip was the first to break.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Do you know that I saw your cousin George yesterday? He is back at last at Isleworth.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Yes, Pigott told me that he had come. He has been away a long while.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;When did you last see him?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;When I was about thirteen, I believe; before he lost the election, and went away.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;He has been down here several times since then. I wonder that you did not see him.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I always disliked him, and kept out of his way.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Gad, you can&rsquo;t dislike him more than I do; but I keep good friends with him for all that, and you must do the same. Now, look here, Angela, will you promise to keep a secret?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Yes, father, if you wish it.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Well, then, I appear to be a poor man, don&rsquo;t I? And remember,&rdquo; he added, hastily, &ldquo;that, with reference to household expenses, I am poor; but, as a matter of fact&rdquo; &#8212; and here he sunk his voice, and glanced suspiciously round&#8212;&rdquo;I am worth at this moment nearly one hundred and fifty thousand pounds in hard cash.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;That is six thousand pounds a year at four per cent.,&rdquo; commented</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Angela, without a moment&rsquo;s hesitation. &ldquo;Then I really think you might</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">put a flue into the old greenhouse, and allow a shilling a week to</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Mrs. Jakes&rsquo; mother.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Curse Mrs. Jakes&rsquo; mother! Nobody but a woman would have interrupted with such nonsense. Listen. You must have heard how I was disinherited on account of my marriage with your mother, and the Isleworth estates left to your cousin George, and how, with a refined ingenuity, he was forbidden to bequeath them back to me or to my children. But mark this, he is not forbidden to sell them to me; no doubt the old man never dreamt that I should have the money to buy them; but, you see, I have almost enough.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;How did you get so much money?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Get it! First, I took the gold plate my grandfather bought, and sold it. I had no right to do it, but I could not afford to have so much capital lying idle. It fetched nearly five thousand pounds. With this I speculated successfully. In two years I had eighteen thousand. The eighteen thousand I invested in a fourth share in a coal-mine, when money was scarce and coals cheap. Coals rose enormously just then, and in five years&rsquo; time I sold my share to the co-holders for eighty-two thousand, in addition to twenty-one thousand received by way of interest. Since then I have not speculated, for fear my luck should desert me. I have simply allowed the money to accumulate on mortgage and other investments, and bided my time, for I have sworn to have those estates back before I die. It is for this cause that I have toiled, and thought, and screwed, and been cut by the whole neighbourhood for twenty years; but now I think that, with your help, my time is coming.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;With <span class="t31">my</span> help. What is it that you wish me to do?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Listen,&rdquo; answered her father, nervously tapping his pencil on the account-book before him. &ldquo;George is not very fond of Isleworth &#8212; in fact, he rather dislikes it; but, like all the Caresfoots, he does not care about parting with landed property, and, though we appear to be good friends, he hates me too much ever to consent, under ordinary circumstances, to sell it to me. It is to you I look to overcome that objection.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I! How?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;You are a woman and you ask me how you should get the blind side of a man!&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I do not in the least understand you.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Philip smiled incredulously.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Then I suppose I must explain. If ever you take the trouble to look at yourself in the glass, you will probably see that Nature has been very kind to you in the matter of good looks; nor are you by any means deficient in brains. Your cousin George is very fond of a pretty woman, and, to be plain, what I want you to do is to make use of your advantages to get him under your thumb and persuade him into selling the property.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Oh! father, how can you?&rdquo; ejaculated Angela, in an agony of shame.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;You idiot, I won&rsquo;t want you to marry him; I only want you to make a fool of him. Surely, being of the sex you are, you won&rsquo;t find <span class="t31">that</span> an uncongenial occupation.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Angela&rsquo;s blushes had given away to pallor now, and she answered with cold contempt:</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think you quite understand what a girl feels &#8212; at least, what I feel, for I know no other girls. Perhaps it would be useless for me to try to explain. I had rather go blind than use my eyes for such a shameful purpose.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Angela,&rdquo; said her father, with as much temper as he ever showed now, &ldquo;let me tell you that you are a silly fool; you are more, you are an encumbrance. Your birth,&rdquo; he added, bitterly, &ldquo;robbed me of your mother, and the fact of your being a girl deprived our branch of the family of their rights. Now that you have grown up, you prefer to gratify your whims rather than help me to realize the object of my life by a simple course of action that could do no one any harm. I never asked you to commit yourself in any way. Well, well, it is what I must expect. We have not seen much of each other heretofore, and perhaps the less we meet in the future the better.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;You have no right to talk to me so,&rdquo; she answered, with flashing eyes, &ldquo;though I am your daughter, and it is cowardly to reproach me with my birth, my sex, and my dependence. Am I responsible for any of these things? But I will not burden you long. And as to what you wanted me to do, and think such a little of, I ask you, is it what my poor mother would have wished her daughter &#8212; &#8212;&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Here Philip abruptly rose, and left the room and the house.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;She is as like her mother as possible,&rdquo; he mused, as soon as he was clear of the house. &ldquo;It might have been Hilda herself, only she is twice as beautiful as Hilda was. I shall have another bad night after this, I know I shall. I must get rid of that girl somehow, I cannot bear her about me; she is a daily reminder of things I dare not remember, and whenever she stares at me with those great eyes of hers, I feel as though she were looking through me. I wonder if she knows the story of Maria Lee!&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">And then dismissing, or trying to dismiss, the matter from his mind, he took his way across the fields to Isleworth Hall, a large white brick mansion in the Queen Anne style, about two miles distant from the Abbey, and, on arrival, asked for his cousin George, and was at once shown into that gentleman&rsquo;s presence.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Years had told upon George more than they had upon Philip, and, though there were no touches of grey in the flaming red of his hair, the bloodshot eyes, and the puckered crowsfeet beneath them, to say nothing of the slight but constant trembling of the hand, all showed that he was a man well on in middle-life, and who had lived every day of it. Time, too, had made the face more intensely unpleasant and vulgar-looking than ever. Such Caresfoot characteristics as it possessed were, year by year, giving place, in an increasingly greater degree, to the kitchen-maid strain introduced by the mother. In short, George Caresfoot did not even look a gentleman, whereas Philip certainly did.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t seem very well, George. I am afraid that your travels have not agreed with you.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;My dear Philip,&rdquo; answered his cousin, in a languid and affected voice, &ldquo;if you had lived the life that I have for the last twenty years, you would look a little knocked up. I have had some very good times; but the fact is, that I have been too prodigal of my strength, not thought enough about the future. It is a great mistake, and one of the worst results is that I am utterly <span class="t31">blase</span> of everything; even <span class="t31">la belle passion</span> is played out for me. I haven&rsquo;t seen a woman I care twopence about for ten years.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Ah! you should sell this place, and take a house in town; it would suit you much better.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I can do that without selling the place. I don&rsquo;t intend to sell the place &#8212; in fact, nothing would induce me to do so. Some day I may marry, and want to transmit it to some future Caresfoot; but I confess I don&rsquo;t mean to do that just yet. Marry when you want a nurse, but never before; that&rsquo;s my maxim. Marriage is an excellent institution for parsons and fools, the two classes that Providence has created to populate the world; but a wise man should as soon think of walking into a spring-trap. Take your own case, for instance, my dear Philip; look what marriage led to.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;At any rate,&rdquo; answered his cousin, bitterly, &ldquo;it led to your advantage.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Exactly; and that is one of the reasons why I have such a respect for the institution in the abstract. It has been my personal benefactor, and I worship it accordingly &#8212; at a distance. By the way, talking of marriage reminds me of its legitimate fruits. Bellamy tells me that your daughter Angela (if I had a daughter, I should call her Diabola, it is more appropriate for a woman) has grown uncommonly handsome. Bring her to see me; I adore beauty in all its forms, especially its female form. Is she really so handsome?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I am no judge, but you will soon have an opportunity of forming an opinion &#8212; that is, I hope so. I propose coming with Angela to make a formal call on you to-morrow.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Good. Tell my fair cousin that I shall be certain to be in, and be</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">prepared, metaphorically, to fall at the feet of so much loveliness.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">By the way, that reminds me; you have heard of Bellamy&rsquo;s, or rather</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Mrs. Bellamy&rsquo;s, good fortune, I suppose?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;No.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;What &#8212; not? Why, he is now Sir John Bellamy, knight.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Indeed! How is that?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;You remember the bye-election six months back?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Oh, yes! I was actually badgered by Mrs. Bellamy into promising to vote, much against my personal convenience.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Exactly. Well, just at the time, old Prescott died, you may remember that Mr. Showers, the member of the Government, was unseated on petition from some borough or other, and came down here post-haste to get re-elected. But he had Sir Percy Vivyan against him, and, as I know to my cost, this benighted country is not fond of those who preach the gospel of progress. Bellamy, who is a stout Radical, as you know &#8212; chiefly, I fancy, because there is more to be got out of that side of politics &#8212; got the job as Showers&rsquo; agent. But, three days before, it became quite clear that his cause, cabinet minister or not, was hopeless. Then it was that Mrs. &#8212; I beg her pardon, Lady &#8212; Bellamy came to the fore. Just as Showers was thinking of withdrawing, she demanded a private interview with him. Next day she posted off to old Sir Percy, who is a perfect fool of the chivalrous school, and was desperately fond of her, and, <span class="t31">mirabile dictu</span>, that evening Sir Percy withdraws on the plea of ill-health or some such rubbish, and Showers walks over. Within three months, Mr. Bellamy becomes Sir John Bellamy, nominally for his services as town-clerk of Roxham, and I hear that old Sir Percy is now perfectly rampant, and goes about cursing her ladyship up hill and down dale, and declaring that he has been shockingly taken-in. How our mutual friend worked the ropes is more than I can tell you, but she did work them, and to some purpose.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;She is an uncommonly handsome woman.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Ah! yes, you&rsquo;re right there, she is A1; but let us stroll out a little; it is a fine evening for the 30th of April. To-morrow will be the 1st of May, so it will, a day neither of us are likely to forget.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Philip winced at the allusion, but said nothing.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;By the way,&rdquo; George went on, &ldquo;I am expecting a visitor, my ward, young Arthur Heigham, who is just back from India. He will be twenty- five in a few days, when he comes of age, and is coming down to settle up. The fact is, that ten thousand of his money is on the Jotley property, and both Bellamy and myself are anxious that it should stop there for the present, as if the mortgage were called in it might be awkward.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Is he well off?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Comfortably; about a thousand a year; comes of an old family too. Bellamy and I knew his father, Captain Heigham, slightly, when we were in business. His wife, by the way, was a distant cousin of ours. They are both dead now; the captain was wiped out at Inkerman, and, for some unknown reason, left me the young gentleman&rsquo;s sole guardian and joint trustee with a London lawyer, a certain Mr. Borley. I have never seen him yet &#8212; my ward, I mean &#8212; he has always been at Eton, or Cambridge, or in India, or somewhere.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Here Philip began to manifest signs of considerable uneasiness, the cause of which was sufficiently apparent; for, whilst they were talking, a very large and savage-looking animal of the sheep-dog order had emerged from the house, and was following him up and down, growling in a low and ominous undertone, its nose being the while glued to his calves as they alternately presented themselves in his line of vision.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Would you mind calling off this animal, George?&rdquo; he said at length.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;He does not look amiable.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Oh! that&rsquo;s Snarleyow; don&rsquo;t mind him, he never bites unless you stop.&rdquo; Philip instinctively quickened his pace. &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t he a beauty? He&rsquo;s a pure bred Thibet sheep-dog, and I will back him to fight against any animal of his own weight. He killed two dogs in one morning the other day, and pulled down a beggar-woman in the evening. You should have heard her holler.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">At that moment, fortunately for Philip&rsquo;s calves, which were beginning to tingle with an unwholesome excitement, Mr. Snarleyow&rsquo;s attention was diverted by the approach of a dog-cart, and he left to enjoy the amusement of snapping and barking at the horse. The cart pulled up at the door, and out of it emerged a tall and extremely gentlemanly- looking young fellow, followed by a very large red bull-dog.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Mr. Caresfoot, I believe,&rdquo; said the young gentleman to George, taking off his hat.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Yes, Mr. Heigham, at your service. I am very glad to see you. My cousin, Mr. Philip Caresfoot.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p29"><span class="t29">冬</span><span class="t28">日</span><span class="t27">漫</span><span class="t28">漫</span><span class="t27">，</span>对安吉拉而言虽不至郁郁寡欢，却也分外漫长。独居的她深深怀念弗雷泽先生，幸有他馈赠的书籍为伴，研习新知尚能慰藉寂寥。及至春神翩然而至，万物勃发，谁人——尤其是安吉拉——能在春光里长久忧愁？</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">然而这个春天却成为她生命的重要转折。每当搁下书卷，携双鸦漫步湖畔繁花似锦的林地时，一种难以名状的不安便悄然滋长。及至二十岁生辰临近，她惊觉自己已非少女，而生命竟似缺了关键拼图——原来她空怀满腔爱意，却除乳母外无人可付！</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">她尚未察觉，心之幽谷已回荡着某个渐近的足音。芸芸众生中，注定与她交织的命运正在显现。正如黎明第一缕微光映亮懵懂天穹，她频现的红晕亦宣告少女时代的终结，预示爱情将至。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"安吉拉，"某日父亲从书房唤住路过的她，"进来，有话同你说。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">女儿怔在原地——多年来父亲从未邀她入内。书房中的菲利普与二十年前相比，身形更显魁梧，背脊微驼，但四十二岁的他仍似壮年。唯有那双眼睛，无人注视时会凝望虚空，额间皱纹更添几分恍惚；一旦与人视线相接——尤其是女儿澄澈的灰眸——便闪烁游移得厉害。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">他正核算账目，示意女儿落座。当她好奇的目光落在他身上时，钢笔突然跌在账本上。"说过多少次，"他避开那目光，"别用这种不端庄的眼神盯人！"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">安吉拉颊上顿时腾起红霞。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"请原谅，我忘了规矩。"她转向窗棂，"以后会注意。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"别犯傻，正常看人就是。"他指节敲击账本，"说正事：去年家用超支三百五十镑，今年必须压到三百以内。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"我会尽力节省，"她指尖无意识摩挲着裙褶，"但确实已无浪费。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">沉默在父女间蔓延。菲利普清了清嗓子，突然道："昨日遇见你表哥乔治，他终归是回艾尔斯沃斯了。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"听皮戈特提过。"她望着窗外的榆树梢，"他离家很久了。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"上次见他是什么时候？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"约莫十三岁那年，"她目光掠过父亲肩头的油画，"在他落选远行之前。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"后来他数次返乡，你竟都避而不见？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"我素来厌他，自然避之不及。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"天晓得！我何尝不厌这厮！"他突然压低嗓门，眼风扫过紧闭的房门，"但表面功夫总要做足。安吉拉，你且发誓守密。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"但凭父亲吩咐。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"外人看我穷酸是不是？"他喉结滚动，"家用确要节俭，实则——"枯瘦手指突然掐紧账本边角，"我手头现银足有十五万镑！"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"按四厘利算，年息当有六千。"她不假思索道。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">安吉拉不假思索道："那温室烟道早该修缮，杰克斯太太的老母每周一先令赡养费也该给了。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"让那老婆子见鬼去！"他指节重重叩击橡木桌面，"妇人之见！听好——当年我执意娶你母亲，被剥夺继承权，艾尔斯沃斯庄园全归了乔治表侄。那老狐狸还规定不得将产业遗赠给我或我的子女。"他忽然阴鸷一笑，"但买卖条款可没禁止——老东西绝料不到我能攒够钱买回祖产！"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"您从何处筹得巨款？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"筹钱？"他眼中闪过狡黠的光，"先变卖祖父的金器——虽说无权处置，但资本岂能闲置？首笔五千镑作本，两年滚成一万八。趁煤价低迷时入股煤矿，五年后连本带利赚了十万三千镑。"枯瘦手指摩挲着账本烫金边，"后来只做稳妥投资，就等这天——我发誓死前定要夺回祖产！这二十年来节衣缩食遭人白眼，全为此事。如今，该你助我一臂之力了。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"我？"她脊背陡然僵直，"要我做甚？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"乔治不爱打理庄园，"铅笔在账本上敲出急促的节奏，"但凯尔斯福特家的人向来惜土如金。何况他恨我入骨——除非你能让他改变主意。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"我？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"你莫非不知美人计？"他嗤笑道，"揽镜自照便知天赋异禀。乔治最吃这套，只要你——"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"父亲！"她面色倏地惨白，指尖掐进掌心。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"又非真要你嫁他！"账本"啪"地合上，"玩弄男人不是你们女儿家与生俱来的本事？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">血色从她脸上彻底褪去："您永远不懂——我宁可剜目盲行，也不愿用这双眼行此龌龊。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"安吉拉，"父亲罕见地提高了声调，"你不仅是个蠢货，更是累赘！"他嘴角扭曲，"你的出生夺走你母亲，你的性别让我们这脉失去继承权。如今竟为可笑的道德感，毁我毕生所求——"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"住口！"她眼中迸出火星，"以我出生、性别、依附为由羞辱我，何其卑劣！"喉头剧烈滚动，"我很快会离开。至于您那龌龊提议——"她突然抬高声线，"我母亲在天之灵若知——"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">菲利普猛地撞开椅子冲出门去。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"太像她母亲了，"他踉跄走在石楠丛中，"简直希尔德再生，却比她更美。"枯手揪住胸口，"今夜又要失眠。必须赶走这丫头，她那双洞穿灵魂的眼睛——"他突然战栗，"莫非她知道玛丽·李的旧事？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">穿过两英里荒原，安妮女王风格的白砖宅邸映入眼帘。乔治·凯尔斯福特正深陷扶手椅中。岁月对他更为残酷：火焰般的红发虽未染霜，但充血的眼球、蛛网般的皱纹，尤其是颤抖不止的双手，无不昭示着纵欲过度的中年。那张脸愈发显出厨娘血统的粗鄙，与菲利普尚存的绅士风度形成骇人对比。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"看来环球旅行没让你更康健啊，乔治表哥。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"亲爱的菲利普，"乔治用矫揉造作的腔调拖长声音，"若你过我这般二十年纵情声色的日子，怕早垮了。"他摩挲着水晶酒杯，"好时光虽多，却透支了元气。如今连<span class="t31">风月之事</span>都索然无味——整整十年没遇见值得两便士心动的女人。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"何不卖了这庄园搬去伦敦？更适合你。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"何必卖产？"他忽然坐直，眼中闪过狐狸般的精光，"保不齐哪天娶个护士传宗接代呢？婚姻嘛——"嘴角扯出讥笑，"是牧师和蠢货的专利。您不就是前车之鉴？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"至少让你捡了便宜。"菲利普指节发白。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"正因如此，我格外崇敬婚姻制度——"他夸张地抚胸，"作为既得利益者。话说回来，"突然凑近，"贝尔米说你女儿安吉拉出落得标致？带她来让我鉴赏鉴赏，我最懂得欣赏<span class="t31">尤物</span>了。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"明日正式拜访。"菲利普起身时碰翻茶盏。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"务必转告我那可人的表妹，"乔治对着他仓皇的背影喊道，"我必当<span class="t31">扫榻相迎</span>！"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"定当<span class="t31">倒屣相迎</span>，拜倒在佳人裙下。"他突然话锋一转，"话说贝尔米——现在该称<span class="t31">约翰·贝尔米爵士</span>了——的青云路，你可听闻？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"竟有此事？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"半年前补选那场闹剧还记得吗？"乔治转动戒指冷笑，"内阁成员肖尔斯因选区诉讼落马，仓皇来此谋求连任。咱们这位激进派律师——"他朝壁炉啐了一口，"明知胜算渺茫仍接下竞选代理。就在撤退前夜，贝尔米夫人<span class="t31">——如今该称爵士夫人了——</span>私下会晤肖尔斯，次日又拜访老派骑士珀西爵士。"他忽然压低嗓音，"<span class="t31">奇哉怪也</span>，当晚珀西便以健康为由退选！三个月后，区区小镇书记竟获封爵位——"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"那位夫人确实艳光逼人。"菲利普干巴巴地打断。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"确实艳冠群芳。"乔治起身推开落地窗，"趁这四月末的好夜色散步去？明日可是五月一日——"他意味深长地拖长尾音，"你我永生难忘的日子。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">菲利普面色骤变，沉默如石。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"对了，"乔治突然拍手，"我的被监护人亚瑟·海厄姆即将从印度归来。这小子再过几日就满二十五岁，要来清算财产。"他踢开脚边石子，"他那笔一万镑押在乔特利地产上，贝尔米与我都不想此刻抽资。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"家底厚实？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"年入千镑的世家子。他父亲——"乔治突然被犬吠打断。只见一头牧羊犬正龇着森白獠牙，鼻尖紧贴菲利普颤抖的小腿肚逡巡。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"劳驾管管这畜生？"菲利普僵立如雕塑。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"噢！那是咆哮佬，"乔治漫不经心道，"别怕，它只咬站着不动的活物。"菲利普闻言立即加快脚步。"纯种藏獒血统，敢赌它能撕碎任何同体型的畜生——前天早上刚咬死两条狗，傍晚还扑倒个乞婆。你该听听那婆娘的惨叫。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">正当菲利普小腿肌肉因过度紧张开始痉挛时，一辆狗车驶来转移了恶犬的注意。车帘掀处，一位身形修长的绅士青年跃下，身后跟着头壮如小牛的赤色斗牛犬。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"您必是凯尔斯福特先生？"青年向乔治脱帽致意。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"正是。海厄姆先生，欢迎之至。"乔治斜睨着那头红色猛犬，"这位是舍亲菲利普·凯尔斯福特。"</p>

														
 
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															 <h2 class="h21"><a id="a305"></a><a id="a306"></a><a id="a307"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>

														
 
															 <p class="p28"><span class="t25"><img src="images/img23.jpg" width="135" height="32" alt="img23.jpg"/></span></p>

														
 
															-<p class="p29"><span class="t27">&ldquo;</span><span class="t29">I</span><span class="t27"> </span><span class="t28">MUST</span><span class="t27"> </span><span class="t28">APOLOGIZE</span><span class="t27"> </span>for having brought Aleck, my dog, you know, with me,&rdquo; began Arthur Heigham; &ldquo;but the fact was, that at the very last moment the man I was going to leave him with had to go away, and I had no time to find another place before the train left. I thought that, if you objected to dogs, he could easily be sent somewhere into the village. He is very good-tempered, though appearances are against him.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Oh! he will be all right, I daresay,&rdquo; said George, rather sulkily; for, with the exception of Snarleyow, in whose fiendish temper he found something refreshing and congenial, he liked no dogs. &ldquo;But you must be careful, or Snarleyow, <span class="t31">my</span> dog, will give him a hammering. Here, good dog, good dog,&rdquo; and he attempted to pat Aleck on the head, but the animal growled savagely, and avoided him.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I never knew him do that before,&rdquo; ejaculated Arthur, in confusion, and heartily wishing Aleck somewhere else. &ldquo;I suppose he has taken a dislike to you. Dogs do sometimes, you know.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Next second it struck him that this was one of those things that had better have been left unsaid, and he grew more uncomfortable than ever. But at this very moment the situation was rendered intensely lively by the approach of the redoubtable Snarleyow himself, who, having snapped at the horse&rsquo;s heels all the way to the stables, had on his return to the front of the house spotted Aleck from afar. He was now advancing on tiptoe in full order of battle, his wicked-looking teeth gleaming, and his coat and tail standing out like an angry bear&rsquo;s.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Arthur, already sufficiently put out about the dog question, thought it best to take no notice; and even when he distinctly heard George quietly &ldquo;sah&rdquo; on his dog as he passed him, he contented himself with giving Aleck a kick by way of a warning to behave himself, and entered into some desultory conversation with Philip. But presently a series of growls behind him announced that an encounter was imminent. Looking round, he perceived that Snarleyow was standing over the bull-dog, of which he was more than twice the size, and holding on to the skin of his neck with his long teeth; whilst George was looking on with scarcely suppressed amusement.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I think, Mr. Caresfoot, that you had better call your dog off,&rdquo; said Arthur, good-temperedly. &ldquo;Mine is a peaceable animal, but he is an awkward customer when he does fight.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Oh! better let them settle it; they will be much better friends afterwards. Hold him, Snarleyow.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Thus encouraged, the big dog seized the other, and fairly lifted him off the ground, shaking him violently &#8212; a proceeding that had the effect of thoroughly rousing Aleck&rsquo;s temper. And then began a most Homeric combat. At first the bull-dog was dreadfully mauled; his antagonist&rsquo;s size, weight, and length of leg and jaw, to say nothing of the thick coat by which he was protected, all telling against him. But he took his punishment very quietly, never so much as uttering a growl, in strange contrast to the big dog&rsquo;s vociferous style of doing business. And at last patience was rewarded by his enemy&rsquo;s fore-paw finding its way into Aleck&rsquo;s powerful jaw, and remaining there till Snarleyow&rsquo;s attentions to the back of his neck forced him to shift his hold. From that time forward the sheep-dog had to fight on three legs, which he found demoralizing. But still he had the advantage, and it was not until any other dog of Aleck&rsquo;s size would have retreated half killed that the bull-dog&rsquo;s superior courage and stamina began to tell. Quite heedless of his injuries, and the blood that poured into his eyes, he slowly but surely drove the great sheep-dog, who by this time would have been glad to stop, back into an angle of the wall, and then suddenly pinned him by the throat. Down went Snarleyow on the top of the bull-dog, and rolled right over him, but when he staggered to his legs again, his throat was still in its cruel grip.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Take your dog off!&rdquo; shouted George, seeing that affairs had taken a turn he very little expected.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I fear that is impossible,&rdquo; replied Arthur, politely, but looking anything but polite.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;If you don&rsquo;t get it off, I will shoot it.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;You will do nothing of the sort, Mr. Caresfoot; you set the dog on, and you must take the consequences. Ah! the affair is finished.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">As he spoke, the choking Snarleyow, whose black tongue was protruding from his jaws, gave one last convulsive struggle, and ceased to breathe. Satisfied with this result, Aleck let go, and having sniffed contemptuously at his dead antagonist, returned to his master&rsquo;s side, and, sitting quietly down, began to lick such of his numerous wounds as he could reach.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">George, when he realized that his favourite was dead, turned upon his guest in a perfect fury. His face looked like a devil&rsquo;s. But Arthur, acting with wonderful self-possession for so young a man, stopped him.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Remember, Mr. Caresfoot, before you say anything that you may regret, that neither I nor my dog is to blame for what has happened. I am exceedingly sorry that your dog should have been killed, but it is your own fault. I am afraid, however, that, after what has happened, I shall be as unwelcome here as Aleck; so, if you will kindly order the cart for me again, I will move on. Our business can no doubt be finished off by letter.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">George made no reply: it was evident that he could not trust himself to speak, but, turning sullenly on his heel, walked towards the house.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Wait a bit, Mr. Heigham,&rdquo; said Philip, who had been watching the whole scene with secret delight. &ldquo;You are perfectly in the right. I will go and try to bring my cousin to his senses. I am very thankful to your dog for killing that accursed brute.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">He was away for about ten minutes, during which Arthur took Aleck to a fountain there was in the centre of a grass plot in front of the house, and washed his many wounds, none of which, however, were, thanks to the looseness of his hide, very serious. Just as he had finished that operation, a gardener arrived with a wheelbarrow to fetch away the deceased Snarleyow.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Lord, sir,&rdquo; he said to Arthur, &ldquo;I am glad to have the job of tucking up this here brute. He bit my missus last week, and killed a whole clutch of early ducks. I seed the row through the bushes. That &lsquo;ere dog of yours, sir, he did fight in proper style; I should like to have a dog like he.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Just then the re-arrival of Philip put a stop to the conversation. Drawing Arthur aside, he told him that George begged to apologize for what had occurred, and hoped that he would not think of going away.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;But,&rdquo; added Philip, with a little laugh, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t pretend that he has taken a fancy to you, and, if I were you, I should cut my visit short.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;That is exactly my view of the case. I will leave to-morrow evening.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Philip made no further remarks for a few moments. He was evidently thinking. Presently he said,</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I see you have a fishing-rod amongst your things; if you find the time hang heavy on your hands to-morrow, or wish to keep out of the way, you had better come over to Bratham Lake and fish. There are some very large carp and perch there, and pike too, for the matter of that, but they are out of season.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Arthur thanked him, and said that he should probably come, and, having received instructions as to the road, they parted, Arthur to go and shut up Aleck in an outhouse pointed out to him by his friend the gardener, and thence to dress for a dinner that he looked forward to with dread, and Philip to make his way home. As he passed up through the little flower-garden at the Abbey House, he came across his daughter, picking the blight from her shooting rose-trees.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Angela,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I am sorry if I offended your prejudices this afternoon. Don&rsquo;t let us say anything more about it; but I want you to come and pay a formal call with me at Isleworth to-morrow. It will only be civil that you should do so.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I never paid a call in my life,&rdquo; she answered, doubtfully, &ldquo;and I don&rsquo;t want to call on my cousin George.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Oh! very well,&rdquo; and he began to move on. She stopped him.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I will go, if you like.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;At three o&rsquo;clock, then. Oh! by the way, don&rsquo;t be surprised if you see a young gentleman fishing here to-morrow.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Angela reflected to herself that she had never yet seen a young gentleman to speak to in her life, and then asked, with undisguised interest, who he was.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Well, he is a sort of connection of your own, through the Prestons, who are cousins of ours, if any of them are left. His mother was a Preston, and his name is Arthur Preston Heigham. George told me something about him just now, and, on thinking it over, I remember the whole story. He is an orphan, and George&rsquo;s ward.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;What is he like?&rdquo; asked Angela, ingenuously.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Really I don&rsquo;t know; rather tall, I think &#8212; a gentlemanly fellow. It really is a relief to speak to a gentleman again. There has been a nice disturbance at Isleworth,&rdquo; and then he told his daughter the history of the great dog fight.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I should think Mr. Heigham was perfectly in the right, and I should like to see his dog,&rdquo; was her comment on the occurrence.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">As Arthur dressed himself for dinner that evening he came to the conclusion that he disliked his host more than any man he ever saw, and, to say the truth, he descended into the dining-room with considerable misgivings. Just as he entered, the opposite door opened, and Sir John Bellamy was announced. On seeing him, George emerged from the sulky silence into which he was plunged, and advanced to meet him.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Hullo, Bellamy! I must congratulate you upon your accession to rank.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Thank you, Caresfoot, thank you,&rdquo; replied Mr. Bellamy, who, with the exception that he had grown a size larger, and boasted a bald patch on the top of his head that gave him something of a appearance of a jolly little monk, looked very much the same as when we last saw him as a newly married man.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;A kind Providence,&rdquo; he went on, rubbing his dry hands, and glancing nervously under the chairs, &ldquo;has put this honour into my hands.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;A Providence in petticoats, you mean,&rdquo; broke in George.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Possibly, my dear Caresfoot; but I do not see him. Is it possible that he is lurking yonder, behind the sofa?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Who on earth do you mean?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I mean that exceedingly fine dog of yours, Snarleyow. Snarleyow, where are you? Excuse me for taking precautions, but last time he put his head under my chair and bit me severely, as I dare say you remember.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Arthur groaned at hearing the subject thus brought forward.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Mr. Heigham&rsquo;s dog killed Snarleyow this afternoon,&rdquo; said George, in a savage voice.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">At this intelligence, Sir John&rsquo;s face became wreathed in smiles.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I am deeply delighted &#8212; I mean grieved &#8212; to hear it. Poor Snarleyow! he was a charming dog; and to think that such a fate should have overtaken him, when it was only last week that he did the same kind office for Anne&rsquo;s spaniel. Poor Snarleyow! you should really have him stuffed. But, my dear Caresfoot, you have not yet introduced me to the hero of the evening, Mr. Heigham. Mr. Heigham, I am delighted to make your acquaintance,&rdquo; and he shook hands with Arthur with gentle enthusiasm, as though he were the last scion of a race that he had known and loved for generations.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Presently dinner was announced, and the three sat down at a small round table in the centre of the big dining-room, on which was placed a shaded lamp. It was not a cheerful dinner. George, having said grace, relapsed into moody silence, eating and drinking with gusto but in moderation, and savouring every sup of wine and morsel of food as though he regretted its departure. He was not free from gluttony, but he was a judicious glutton. For his part, Arthur found a certain fascination in watching his guardian&rsquo;s red head as he bobbed up and down opposite to him, and speculating on the thickness of each individual hair that contributed to give it such a spiky effect. What had his mother been like, he wondered, that she had started him in life with such an entirely detestable countenance? Meanwhile he was replying in monosyllables to Sir John&rsquo;s gentle babblings, till at last even that gentleman&rsquo;s flow of conversation ran dry, and Arthur was left free to contemplate the head in solemn silence. As soon as the cloth had been cleared away, George suggested that they had better get to work. Arthur assented, and Sir John, smiling with much sweetness, remarked profoundly that business was one of the ills of life, and must be attended to.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;At any rate, it is an ill that has agreed uncommonly well with you,&rdquo; growled George, as, rising from the table, he went to a solid iron safe that stood in the corner of the room, and, unlocking it with a small key that he took from his pocket, extracted a bundle of documents.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;That is an excellent deed-box of yours, Caresfoot,&rdquo; said Sir John carelessly.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Yes; that lock would not be very easy to pick. It is made on my own design.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;But don&rsquo;t you find that small parcels such as private letters are apt to get lost in it? It is so big.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Oh! no; there is a separate compartment for them. Now, Mr. Heigham.&rdquo; And then, with the able and benign assistance of Sir John, he proceeded to utterly confuse and mystify Arthur, till stocks, preference-shares, consols, and mortgages were all whirling in his bewildered brain. Having satisfactorily reduced him to this condition, he suddenly sprang upon him the proposal he had in view with reference to the Jotley mortgage, pointing out to him that it was an excellent investment, and strongly advising him, &ldquo;as a friend,&rdquo; to leave the money upon the land. Arthur hesitated a little, more from natural caution than anything he could urge to the contrary, and George, noticing it, said,</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;It is only right that, before you come to any decision, you should see the map of the estate, and a copy of the deed. I have both in the next room, if you care to come and look at them.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Arthur assented, and they went off together; Sir John, whose eyes appeared to be a little heavy under the influence of the port, presuming that he was not wanted. But, no sooner had the door closed, than the worthy knight proved himself very wide-awake. Indeed, he commenced a singular course of action. Advancing on tiptoe to the safe in the corner of the room, he closely inspected it through his eyeglass. Then he cautiously tried the lid of an artfully contrived subdivision.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Um!&rdquo; he muttered, half aloud, &ldquo;that&rsquo;s where they are; I wish I had ten minutes.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Next he returned swiftly to the table, and, taking a piece of the soft bread which he was eating instead of biscuit with his wine, he rapidly kneaded it into dough, and, going to the safe, divided the material into two portions. One portion he carefully pressed upon the keyhole of the subdivision, and then, extracting the key of the safe itself, took a very fair impress of its wards on the other. This done, he carefully put the pieces of dough in his breast-pocket in such a way that they were not likely to be crushed, and, with a smile of satisfaction, returned to his chair, helped himself to a glass of port, and dozed off.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Hullo, Bellamy, gone to sleep! Wake up, man. We have settled this business about the mortgage. Will you write to Mr. Borley, and convey Mr. Heigham&rsquo;s decision? And perhaps&rdquo; &#8212; addressing Arthur&#8212;&rdquo;you will do the same on your own account.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Certainly I will write, Caresfoot; and now I think that I must be off. Her ladyship does not like having to sit up for me.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">George laughed in a peculiarly insulting way.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think she would care much, Bellamy, if you stayed away all night. But look here, tell her I want to see her to-morrow; don&rsquo;t forget.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Sir John bit his knightly lip, but answered, smiling, that he would remember, and begging George not to ring, as his trap was at the hall- door, and the servant waiting, he bade an affectionate good-night to Arthur, to whom he expressed a hope that they would soon meet again, and let himself out of the room. But, as soon as the door was closed, he went through another performance exceedingly inappropriate in a knight. Turning round, his smug face red with anger, he pirouetted on his toes, and shook his fist violently in the direction of the door.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;You scoundrel!&rdquo; he said between his teeth, &ldquo;you have made a fool of me for twenty years, and I have been obliged to grin and bear it; but I will be even with you yet, and her too, more especially her.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">So soon as Sir John had left, Arthur told his host that, if the morning was fine, he proposed to go and fish in Bratham Lake, and that he also proposed to take his departure by the last train on the following evening. To these propositions George offered no objection &#8212; indeed, they were distinctly agreeable to him, as lessening the time he would be forced to spend in the society of a guest he cordially detested, for such was the feeling that he had conceived towards Arthur.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Then they parted for the night; but, before he left the room, George went to lock up the safe that was still open in the corner. Struck by some thought, he unlocked the separate compartment with a key that hung on his watch-chain, and extracted therefrom a thick and neatly folded packet of letters. Drawing out one or two, he glanced through them and replaced them.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Oh! Lady Anne, Lady Anne,&rdquo; he said to himself as he closed the case, &ldquo;you are up in the world now, and you aspire to rule the county society, and have both the wealth and the wit to do it; but you must not kick over the traces, or I shall be forced to suppress you, Lady Anne, though you are the wife of a Brummagem knight, and I think that it is time you had a little reminder. You are growing a touch too independent.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p29"><span class="t27">“</span><span class="t29">我</span><span class="t27"> </span><span class="t28">必须</span><span class="t27"> </span><span class="t28">道歉</span><span class="t27"> </span>因为把阿莱克——我的狗，你知道的——带来了，”亚瑟·海瑟姆开口道，“但实际情况是，就在最后一刻，我原本打算托付它的人突然有事离开，而我又来不及在火车出发前另找地方安置。我想着，如果您反对养狗，可以很容易把它送到村里什么地方去。它脾气其实很好，虽然外表看起来不太友善。”</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">“哦！它应该没问题吧，”乔治有些愠怒地说；除了斯纳利欧——他觉得这条恶犬的暴躁脾气有种令人耳目一新的亲切感——他其实不喜欢任何狗。“但你必须小心，否则斯纳利欧——<span class="t31">我的</span>狗——会狠狠教训它。来，好狗狗，好狗狗，”他试图拍拍阿莱克的脑袋，但这畜生凶狠地低吼着躲开了。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">“我从没见它这样过，”亚瑟慌乱地喊道，心里恨不得阿莱克立刻消失。“我猜它是对你产生了敌意。狗有时会这样，你知道的。”</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">话刚出口他就意识到这种解释不如不说，顿时更加尴尬。就在这当口，令局势陡然紧张的是，凶名在外的斯纳利欧正从远处发现了阿莱克——这条恶犬方才一路追咬马腿直到马厩，此刻正返回宅前。它龇着狰狞的牙，毛发和尾巴像暴怒的熊般炸开，踮着脚尖摆出全面进攻姿态。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">本就因狗的问题心烦意乱的亚瑟决定不予理会；甚至当他清晰听见乔治经过时对斯纳利欧轻声发出“嘘”的指令，也只是踢了阿莱克一脚作为警告，转而与菲利普闲聊起来。但很快，身后传来连串低吼预示着冲突爆发。回头时，他看见体型两倍于斗牛犬的斯纳利欧正用长牙叼住阿莱克后颈的皮毛，而乔治强忍笑意袖手旁观。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">“卡雷斯福特先生，您最好把狗拉开，”亚瑟和气道，“我的狗不爱惹事，但真打起来可不好对付。”</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">“哦！让它们自己解决吧，打完反而更亲热。咬住它，斯纳利欧！”</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">得到鼓励的大狗竟将对手整个叼离地面猛烈摇晃，彻底激怒了阿莱克。一场史诗级搏斗就此展开。起初斗牛犬被撕咬得惨不忍睹——对手的体型、重量、长腿利齿，加上浓密毛发的天然护甲都占尽优势。但它沉默承受着攻击，甚至不发出半点呜咽，与巨犬的狂吠形成诡异反差。最终忍耐换来转机：当斯纳利欧的前爪不慎卡进阿莱克强有力的颌骨间，任凭后颈被如何撕咬也不松口。自此牧羊犬只能用三条腿作战，士气大挫。然而当其他同体型的狗早已重伤败退时，斗牛犬超凡的勇气和耐力才开始显现。它全然不顾鲜血模糊双眼的伤势，将此刻已萌退意的大狗步步逼至墙角，突然锁喉擒拿！斯纳利欧压着斗牛犬翻滚而过，可当它踉跄站起时，咽喉仍被死死钳制。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">“把你的狗拉开！”乔治见局势逆转大吼道。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">“恐怕这办不到，”亚瑟彬彬有礼地回答，眼神却冷若冰霜。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">“再不拉开我就开枪了。”</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">“您不会这么做的，卡雷斯福特先生。是您纵狗行凶，后果自然该由您承担。啊！胜负已分。”</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">话音未落，被锁喉的斯纳利欧黑舌暴吐，在最后一阵痉挛后断了气。阿莱克满意地松口，轻蔑地嗅了嗅死敌，回到主人身边安静蹲坐，开始舔舐身上能触及的累累伤痕。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">当乔治意识到爱犬已死，顿时暴怒如恶鬼般扑向客人。但年纪轻轻的亚瑟展现出惊人的沉着，抬手制止了他。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"卡雷斯福特先生，在您说出可能后悔的话之前，请记住——这场意外不该由我和我的狗担责。您的狗不幸丧命我深感遗憾，但这是您咎由自取。"亚瑟的指尖无意识摩挲着阿莱克耳后的伤口，"鉴于眼下情形，恐怕我和阿莱克同样不受欢迎。若您能再次备好马车，我即刻启程。未尽事宜不妨通过信函解决。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">乔治没有应答。他下颌肌肉绷出凌厉线条，突然转身朝宅邸大步走去，靴跟碾碎了三枚掉落的白蜡树果。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"请留步，海瑟姆先生。"全程暗自窃喜的菲利普开口道，"您完全占理。我去劝劝我那表兄——说真的，我得感谢您的狗结果了那条恶魔。"他瞥向草地上逐渐僵硬的牧羊犬尸体，补了句连自己都意外的真心话，"那畜生上个月刚咬死我养了七年的雪达犬。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">十分钟后，亚瑟正跪在草坪中央的喷泉边为阿莱克清理伤口。斗牛犬松弛的皮肤使多数咬伤仅伤及表层，但左前肢一道深可见骨的撕裂伤仍在汩汩渗血。当推着独轮车的园丁出现时，血水已在青石上蜿蜒成暗红色的小溪。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"老天开眼啊先生！"园丁将牧羊犬尸体甩上车时压低声音，"这恶魔上周咬穿我老婆的小腿，上个月还祸害了整窝小鸭。"他忽然用沾满泥土的拇指指向阿莱克，"您这伙计打架真带劲！锁喉那招——"话未说完，菲利普的身影已出现在玫瑰丛边。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">将亚瑟引至悬铃木荫下，菲利普转述了乔治言不由衷的道歉。阳光透过树叶间隙，在年轻人紧绷的侧脸投下摇曳的光斑。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"不过，"菲利普轻笑一声，指尖无意识地拨弄着悬铃木的树皮，"恕我直言，他显然不会对您产生什么好感。若我是您，会缩短行程。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"正合我意。明晚便启程。"亚瑟的余光瞥见园丁正用生石灰处理草地上的血迹，腐殖土的气息混着血腥味飘来。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">菲利普沉默片刻，忽然用文明杖尖在沙地上划出蜿蜒的线："您行李里有钓竿吧？若明日无事——或者说需要避开某些人——不妨去布拉瑟姆湖垂钓。"他停顿的节奏像在斟酌用词，"那里有半米长的鲤鱼，还有成群的鲈鱼。至于梭子鱼..."嘴角浮起略带嘲讽的笑，"虽然不当季，倒也可能咬钩。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">道谢时亚瑟注意到对方左手无名指上的蛇形戒指在夕阳下泛着诡异青光。待问清路线分别后，他按园丁指点将阿莱克关进堆满干草的杂物间。斗牛犬在门缝投下的最后一道光斑中抬头，伤口结出的血痂像暗红色铠甲。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">此刻菲利普正穿过修道院宅邸的玫瑰园。暮色中，他女儿修剪花枝的剪影宛如一幅伦勃朗油画——黑裙摆扫过满地凋零的粉白花瓣，指尖正从染了蚜虫的"枪手玫瑰"上拂过。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"安吉拉，"他停在爬满铁线莲的拱门下，声音突然柔软，"若午后冒犯了你的原则，我致歉。"一片枯叶飘落在他肩头，"明日随我去艾尔斯沃斯正式拜访吧，这是礼数。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"我这辈子还没拜访过谁，"她迟疑道，指节无意识地碾碎了一片玫瑰叶上的蚜虫，"更不想去见乔治表哥。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"随你便。"菲利普转身时，铁线莲的枯藤勾住了他的袖扣。少女突然伸手扯断藤蔓："我去。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"三点整。"他抚平袖口银线刺绣的褶皱，突然补充，"对了，若明日在湖边见到垂钓的年轻人，不必惊讶。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">安吉拉指尖一顿——她十九年的人生里从未与同龄绅士交谈过。露珠从她刚修剪的玫瑰刺尖坠落，在裙摆上晕开深色痕迹："那是谁？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"算起来是你远亲。"菲利普用文明杖拨开横生的月季枝条，"普雷斯顿家的旁支，如果那家族还有人活着的话。他母亲姓普雷斯顿，全名亚瑟·普雷斯顿·海瑟姆。"杖尖突然陷入松软的腐叶土，"方才乔治提起，我才想起这桩旧事——孤儿，目前是乔治的被监护人。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"他..."少女突然咬住下唇，又迅速松开，"长什么样？"沾着蚜虫尸体的剪刀当啷掉在石板路上。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"说不上来，"菲利普用鞋尖碾碎一只路过的甲虫，"大概算高挑——至少比乔治那个酒鬼像样。"他突然短促地笑了一声，"知道吗？艾尔斯沃斯今天上演了场好戏。"当他复述那场斗犬事件时，暮色将他的影子拉长成扭曲的十字形。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"海瑟姆先生完全正当防卫，"安吉拉突然打断，沾着泥土的手指在裙褶上收紧，"我倒想见见那条斗牛犬。"她转身时，裙摆扫落的玫瑰花瓣正飘向方才甲虫被碾碎的残骸。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">此刻在艾尔斯沃斯庄园，亚瑟正对着裂了道缝隙的穿衣镜打领结。镜中映出他绷紧的下颌线——他意识到自己对乔治的厌恶已超过此生遇见的任何人。当他踏入餐厅时，水晶吊灯的光晕里突然传来管家的通传："约翰·贝拉米爵士到访。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"哈！贝拉米！"乔治从阴郁中猛然抬头，嘴角扯出夸张的弧度，"该祝贺你新得的爵位了。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"同喜同喜，"贝拉米爵士搓着布满老人斑的手掌应答。这个发际线已退守到头顶的矮胖男人，除了体型比新婚时又膨胀了两圈，活脱脱像个快活的修士。他神经质地扫视着餐桌下方："都是托天主的恩典......"话音未落，突然盯着亚瑟身后某处瞪大了眼睛。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"是穿裙子的天意才对吧，"乔治突然插嘴，餐刀在瓷盘上刮出刺耳声响。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"或许如此，亲爱的卡雷斯福特，"贝拉米爵士突然弯腰查看沙发后方，"不过您那位凶神怎么没出来迎客？该不会正埋伏在那儿——"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"你他妈到底在找什么？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"您那条恶犬斯纳利欧啊！"他掏出手帕擦拭突然冒汗的秃顶，"上回它钻到我椅子底下，差点把我腿肚子撕下来——您总该记得？"镶金边的单片眼镜随着他神经质的张望不断滑落。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">亚瑟的餐叉在盘子上划出尖锐的颤音。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"海瑟姆先生的狗今天下午咬死了斯纳利欧，"乔治的声音像是从牙缝里挤出来的腐肉。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">贝拉米爵士的面部肌肉突然经历奇妙重组——最终定格在一种介于狂喜与哀悼之间的扭曲表情："多么令人痛心——我是说遗憾！上周它刚把安妮的西班牙猎犬开膛破肚呢。"他忽然热切地转向亚瑟，"不过年轻人，您可算为民除害了！"伸来的手掌像块潮湿的海绵。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">当管家撤下最后一道甜点时，乔治突然用叉子敲响水晶杯："该办正事了。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">亚瑟注视着对面那颗随咀嚼晃动的红脑袋——每根竖起的头发都像浸过毒液的钢针。他突然好奇，究竟怎样的母亲能孕育出如此令人憎恶的面容？</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"生意场即是修罗场啊，"贝拉米爵士切开雪茄时感叹，刀锋映出他浮肿的眼袋。阴影中，三只高脚杯碰出虚情假意的脆响。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"至少这'修罗场'让你赚得盆满钵满，"乔治起身时嘀咕着，从内袋掏出一把黄铜钥匙。当他打开墙角铁柜的瞬间，亚瑟注意到保险柜内层有个带密码锁的暗格——那结构复杂得像是刑具。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"这保险柜做工真精良，"贝拉米爵士用雪茄烟点了点柜门，灰烬落在波斯地毯上。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"当然，"乔治的指节叩在复合钢板上，"锁芯是我亲自设计的。"暗格夹层传来纸张摩擦的窸窣声。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"不过私人信函之类的小物件，放在这里面不会容易丢失吗？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"有专用隔层。"乔治突然将一沓文件拍在亚瑟面前，"海瑟姆先生，请过目。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">在贝拉米爵士"善意"的补充说明下，优先股、抵押债券和国债的概念很快在亚瑟脑中搅成乱麻。当年轻人揉着太阳穴时，乔治突然推出乔特利农场的抵押协议："作为朋友必须告诉你——"他手指点着年利率12%的条款，"这可比存在银行划算三倍。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">亚瑟的钢笔悬在签名处上方时，突然瞥见贝拉米爵士正用沾着白兰地的手指，偷偷将某张对折的纸条塞回内袋。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"在签署协议前，您应该先看看这份地契副本和庄园平面图，"乔治的指甲在羊皮纸边缘刮出细微声响，"就在隔壁书房。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">待两人脚步声远去，原本醉眼朦胧的贝拉米爵士突然睁开眼皮。他像只发现猎物的雪貂般蹑足靠近保险柜，单片眼镜的反光在钢板上游移。当指尖触到暗格机关时，喉结滚动出无声的叹息："再给我十分钟……"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">餐盘里的软面包突然被他揉成团。这个发福的中年男人此刻灵巧得不可思议——他将面团分成两半，一半压进暗格锁孔，另一半则覆在留在锁芯的主钥匙上。当钥匙纹路在面团留下清晰凹痕时，走廊传来脚步声。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"贝拉米，醒醒！"乔治的靴跟碾过地板上那点不起眼的面包屑，"抵押贷款的事谈妥了。记得给博利先生写信说明海瑟姆先生的决定。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">爵士打着哈欠将面团藏进绣着家徽的手帕："遵命。不过现在——"他故意晃了晃怀表，"我家夫人最讨厌等我门。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">乔治的嗤笑像钝刀划过硬木。当马车声消失在夜色中，亚瑟注意到主人正用绢布反复擦拭那把黄铜钥匙——仿佛上面沾了看不见的污秽。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"她巴不得你夜不归宿呢，"乔治的指尖摩挲着水晶杯沿，"不过记得转告她——明天我要见她。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">贝拉米爵士的咬肌在腮边鼓起棱角，却仍挤出一个完美的微笑。当他转身时，燕尾服后摆像愤怒的猫尾般甩动。厚重的橡木门刚合上，这位爵士突然在走廊里踮脚旋转，对着门缝无声咆哮："二十年了！你这杂种！"金丝眼镜滑到鼻尖，"还有那个贱人——咱们走着瞧。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">书房内，亚瑟正告知主人明日去布拉瑟姆湖垂钓的计划，以及傍晚将乘末班车离开。乔治擦拭着黄铜钥匙，突然将它举向烛光——钥匙齿痕里还粘着星点面包屑。"随你便，"他转身打开暗格，抽出一沓用蓝丝带捆扎的信件。最上方那封火漆印上，赫然印着贝拉米家族的纹章。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"亲爱的安妮夫人啊，"他对着虚空轻笑，指腹抚过信纸上晕开的香水痕迹，"如今您贵为郡里社交女王，可别忘了——"突然将信件狠狠按回暗格，"伯明翰暴发户的太太，终究逃不出我的掌心。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">当亚瑟告退时，月光正透过彩绘玻璃，在乔治手中钥匙投下血红色的菱形光斑。</p>

														
 
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															 <h2 class="h21"><a id="a308"></a><a id="a309"></a><a id="a310"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2>

														
 
															 <p class="p28"><span class="t25"><img src="images/img23.jpg" width="135" height="32" alt="img23.jpg"/></span></p>

														
 
															-<p class="p29"><span class="t29">A</span><span class="t28">RTHUR</span><span class="t27">&rsquo;</span><span class="t28">S</span><span class="t27"> </span><span class="t28">SLEEP</span><span class="t27"> </span><span class="t28">WAS</span><span class="t27"> </span>oppressed that night by horrible nightmares of fighting dogs, whereof the largest and most ferocious was fitted with George&rsquo;s red head, the effect of which, screwed, without any eye to the fitness of things, to the body of the deceased Snarleyow, struck him as peculiarly disagreeable. He himself was armed with a gun, and whilst he was still arguing with Sir John Bellamy the nice point whether, should he execute that particular animal, as he felt a carnal longing to do, it would be manslaughter or dogslaughter, he found himself wide awake.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">It was very early in the morning of the 1st of May, and, contrary to the usual experience of the inhabitants of these islands, the sky gave promise of a particularly fine day, just the day for fishing. He did not feel sleepy, and, had he done so, he had had enough of his doggy dreams; so he got up, dressed, and taking his fishing-rod, let himself out of the house as he had been instructed to do on the previous evening, and, releasing Aleck from his outhouse, proceeded towards Bratham Lake.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">And about this time Angela woke up too, for she always rose early, and ran to the window to see what sort of a day she had got for her birthday. Seeing it to be so fine, she threw open the old lattice, at which her pet raven Jack was already tapping to be admitted, and let the sweet air play upon her face and neck, and thought what a wonderful thing it was to be twenty years old. And then, kneeling by the window, she said her prayers after her own fashion, thanking God who had spared her to see this day, and praying Him to show her what to do with her life, and, if it was His will, to make it a little less lonely. Then she rose and dressed herself, feeling that now that she had done with her teens, she was in every respect a woman grown &#8212; indeed, quite old. And, in honour of the event, she chose out of her scanty store of dresses, all of them made by Pigott and herself, her very prettiest, the one she had had for Sunday wear last summer, a tight-fitting robe of white stuff, with soft little frills round the neck and wrists. Next she put on a pair of stout boots calculated to keep out the morning dew, and started off.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Now all this had taken a good time, nearly an hour perhaps; for, being her birthday, and there having been some mention of a young gentleman who might possibly come to fish, she had plaited up her shining hair with extra care, a very laborious business when your hair hangs down to your knees.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Meanwhile our other early riser, Arthur, had made his way first to the foot of the lake and then along the little path that skirted its area till he came to Caresfoot Staff. Having sufficiently admired that majestic oak, for he was a great lover of timber, he proceeded to investigate the surrounding water with the eye of a true fisherman. A few yards further up there jutted into the water that fragment of wall on which stood the post, now quite rotten, to which Angela had bound herself on the day of the great storm. At his feet, too, the foundations of another wall ran out for some distance into the lake, being, doubtless, the underpinning of an ancient boathouse, but this did not rise out of the water, but stopped within six inches of the surface. Between these two walls lay a very deep pool.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Just the place for a heavy fish,&rdquo; reflected Arthur, and, even as he thought it, he saw a five-pound carp rise nearly to the surface, in order to clear the obstruction of the wall, and sink silently into the depths.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Retiring carefully to one of two quaintly carven stone blocks placed at the foot of the oak-tree, on which, doubtless, many a monk had sat in meditation, he set himself to get his fishing-gear together. Presently, however, struck by the beauty of the spot and its quiet, only broken by the songs of many nesting birds, he stopped a while to look around him. Above his head the branches of a great oak, now clothing themselves with the most vivid green, formed a dome-like roof, beneath the shade of which grew the softest moss, starred here and there with primroses and violets. Outside the circle of its shadow the brushwood of mingled hazel and ash-stubs rose thick and high, ringing-in the little spot as with a wall, except where its depths were pierced by the passage of a long green lane of limes that, unlike the shrubberies, appeared to be kept in careful order, and of which the arching boughs formed a perfect leafy tunnel. Before him lay the lake where the long morning lights quivered and danced, as its calm was now and again ruffled by a gentle breeze. The whole scene had a lovely and peaceful look, and, gazing on it, Arthur fell into a reverie.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Sitting thus dreamily, his face looked at its best, its expression of gentle thoughtfulness giving it an attraction beyond what it was entitled to, judged purely from a sculptor&rsquo;s point of view. It was an intellectual face, a face that gave signs of great mental possibilities, but for all that a little weak about the mouth. The brow indicated some degree of power, and the mouth and eyes no small capacities for affection and all sorts of human sympathy and kindness. These last, in varying lights, could change as often as the English climate; their groundwork, however, was blue, and they were honest and bonny. In short, a man in looking at Arthur Heigham at the age of twenty-four would have reflected that, even among English gentlemen, he was remarkable for his gentleman-like appearance, and a &ldquo;fellow one would like to know;&rdquo; a girl would have dubbed him &ldquo;nice-looking;&rdquo; and a middle-aged woman &#8212; and most women do not really understand the immense difference between men until they are getting on that way &#8212; would have recognized in him a young man by no means uninteresting, and one who might, according to the circumstances of his life, develop into anything or &#8212; nothing in particular.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Presently, drawn by some unguessed attraction, Arthur took his eyes off an industrious water-hen, who was building a nest in a hurried way, as though she were not quite sure of his intentions, and perceived a large raven standing on one leg on the grass, about three yards from him, and peering at him comically out of one eye. This was odd. But his glance did not stop at the raven, for a yard or two beyond it he caught sight of a white skirt, and his eyes, travelling upwards, saw first a rounded waist, and then a bust and pair of shoulders such as few women can boast, and at last, another pair of eyes; and he then and there fell utterly and irretrievably in love.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Good heavens!&rdquo; he said, aloud &#8212; poor fellow, he did not mean to say it, it was wrung from the depths of his heart&#8212;&rdquo;good heavens, how lovely she is!&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Let the reader imagine the dreadful confusion produced in that other pair of eyes at the open expression of such a sentiment, and the vivid blush that stained the fair face in which they were set, if he can. But somehow they did not grow angry &#8212; perhaps it was not in the nature of the most sternly repressive young lady to grow angry at a compliment which, however marked, was so evidently genuine and unpremeditated. In another moment Arthur bethought him of what he had said, and it was his turn to blush. He recovered himself pretty well, however. Rising from his stone seat, he took off his hat, and said, humbly,</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I beg your pardon, but you startled me so, and really for a moment I thought that you were the spirit of the place, or,&rdquo; he added, gracefully, pointing to a branch of half-opened hawthorn bloom she held in her hand, &ldquo;the original Queen of the May.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Angela blushed again. The compliment was only implied this time; she had therefore no possible pretext for getting angry.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">For a moment she dropped the sweet eyes that looked as though they were fresh from reading the truths of heaven before his gaze of unmistakable admiration, and stood confused; and, as she stood, it struck Arthur that there was something more than mere beauty of form and feature about her &#8212; an indescribable something, a glory of innocence, a reflection of God&rsquo;s own light that tinged the worship her loveliness commanded with a touch of reverential awe.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;The angels must look like that,&rdquo; he thought. But he had no time to think any more, for next moment she had gathered up her courage in both her hands, and was speaking to him in a soft voice, of which the tones went ringing on through all the changes of his life.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;My father told me that he had asked you to come and fish, but I did not expect to meet you so early. I &#8212; I fear that I am disturbing you,&rdquo; and she made as though she would be going.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Arthur felt that this was a contingency to be prevented at all hazards.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;You are Miss Caresfoot,&rdquo; he said, hurriedly, &ldquo;are you not?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Yes &#8212; I am Angela; I need not ask your name, my father told it me. You are Mr. Arthur Heigham.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Yes. And do you know that we are cousins?&rdquo; This was a slight exaggeration, but he was glad to advance any plea to her confidence that occurred to him.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Yes; my father said something about our being related. I have no relations except my cousin George, and I am very glad to make the acquaintance of one,&rdquo; and she held out her hand to him in a winning way.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">He took it almost reverently.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;You cannot,&rdquo; he said with much sincerity, &ldquo;be more glad than I am. I, too, am without relations. Till lately I had my mother, but she died last year.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Were you very fond of her?&rdquo; she asked, softly.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">He nodded in reply, and, feeling instinctively that she was on delicate ground, Angela pursued the conversation no further.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Meanwhile Aleck had awoke from a comfortable sleep in which he was indulging on the other stone seat, and, coming forward, sniffed at Angela and wagged his tail in approval &#8212; a liberty that was instantly resented by the big raven, who had now been joined by another not quite so large. Advancing boldly, it pecked him sharply on the tail &#8212; a proceeding that caused Master Aleck to jump round as quickly as his maimed condition would allow him, only to receive a still harder peck from its companion bird; indeed, it was not until Angela intervened with the bough of hawthorn that they would cease from their attack.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;They are such jealous creatures,&rdquo; she explained; &ldquo;they always follow me about, and fly at every dog that comes near me. Poor dog! that is the one, I suppose, who killed Snarleyow. My father told me all about it.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Yes, it is easy to see that,&rdquo; said Arthur, laughing, and pointing to Aleck, who, indeed, was in lamentable case, having one eye entirely closed, a large strip of plaster on his head, and all the rest of his body more or less marked with bites. &ldquo;It is an uncommonly awkward business for me, and your cousin will not forgive it in a hurry, I fancy; but it really was not poor Aleck&rsquo;s fault &#8212; he is gentle as a lamb, if only he is let alone.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;He has a very honest face, though his nose does look as though it were broken,&rdquo; she said, and, stooping down, she patted the dog.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;But I must be going in to breakfast,&rdquo; she went on, presently. &ldquo;It is eight o&rsquo;clock; the sun always strikes that bough at eight in spring,&rdquo; and she pointed to a dead limb, half hidden by the budding foliage of the oak.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;You must observe closely to have noticed that, but I do not think that the sun is quite on it yet. I do not like to lose my new-found relations in such a hurry,&rdquo; he added, with a somewhat forced smile, &ldquo;and I am to go away from here this evening.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">The intelligence was evidently very little satisfactory to Angela, nor did she attempt to conceal her concern.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I am very sorry to hear that,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I hoped you were going to stay for some time.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;And so I might have, had it not been for that brute Aleck, but he has put a long sojourn with your cousin and the ghost of Snarleyow out of the question; so I suppose I must go by the 6.20 train. At any rate,&rdquo; he added, more brightly, as a thought struck him, &ldquo;I must go from Isleworth.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">She did not appear to see the drift of the last part of his remark, but answered,</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I am going with my father to call at Isleworth at three this afternoon, so perhaps we shall meet again there; but now, before I go in, I will show you a better place than this to fish, a little higher up, where Jakes, our gardener, always sets his night-lines.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Arthur assented, as he would have been glad to assent to anything likely to prolong the interview, and they walked off slowly together, talking as cheerfully as a sense that the conversation must soon come to an end would allow. The spot was reached all too soon, and Angela with evident reluctance, for she was not accustomed to conceal her feelings, said that she must now go.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Why must you go so soon?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Well, to tell you the truth, to-day is my birthday &#8212; I am twenty to-day &#8212; and I know that Pigott, my old nurse, means to give me a little present at breakfast, and she will be dreadfully disappointed if I am late. She has been thinking a great deal about it, you see.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;May I wish you many, very many, happy returns of the day? and&rdquo; &#8212; with a little hesitation&#8212;&rdquo;may I also offer you a present, a very worthless one I fear?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;How can I &#8212; &#8212;&rdquo; stammered Angela, when he cut her short.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be afraid; it is nothing tangible, though it is something that you may not think worth accepting.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo; she said bluntly, for her interest was aroused.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be angry. My present is only the offer of myself as your sincere friend.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">She blushed vividly as she answered,</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;You are very kind. I have never had but one friend &#8212; Mr. Fraser; but, if you think you can like me enough, it will make me very happy to be your friend too.&rdquo; And in another second she was gone, with her ravens flying after her, to receive her present and a jobation from Pigott for being late, and to eat her breakfast with such appetite as an entirely new set of sensations can give.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">In the garden she met her father, walking up and down before the house, and informed him that she had been talking to Mr. Heigham. He looked up with a curious expression of interest.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Why did you not ask him in to breakfast?&rdquo; he said.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Because there is nothing to eat except bread and milk.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Ah! &#8212; well, perhaps you were right. I will go down and speak to him.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">No; I forgot I shall see him this afternoon.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">And Arthur, let those who disbelieve in love at first sight laugh if they will, sat down to think, trembling in every limb, utterly shaken by the inrush of a new and strong emotion. He had not come to the age of twenty-four without some experience of the other sex, but never before had he known any such sensation as that which now overpowered him, never before had he fully realized what solitude meant as he did now that she had left him. In youth, when love does come, he comes as a strong man armed.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">And so, steady and overwhelming all resistance, the full tide of a pure passion poured itself into his heart. There was no pretence or make-believe about it; the bold that sped from Angela&rsquo;s grey eyes had gone straight home, and would remain an &ldquo;ever-fixed mark,&rdquo; so long as life itself should last.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">For only once in a lifetime does a man succumb after this fashion. To many, indeed, no such fortune &#8212; call it good or ill &#8212; will ever come, since the majority of men flirt or marry, indulge in &ldquo;platonic friendships,&rdquo; or in a consistent course of admiration of their neighbours&rsquo; wives, as fate or fancy leads them, and wear their time away without ever having known the meaning of such love as this. There is no fixed rule about it; the most unlikely, even the more sordid and contemptible of mankind, are liable to become the subjects of an enduring passion; only then it raises them; for though strong affection, especially, if unrequited, sometimes wears and enervates the mind, its influence is, in the main, undoubtedly ennobling. But, though such affection is bounded by no rule, it is curious to observe how generally true are the old sayings which declare that a man&rsquo;s thoughts return to his first real love, as naturally and unconsciously as the needle, that has for a while been drawn aside by some overmastering influence, returns to its magnetic pole. The needle has wavered, but it has never shaken off its allegiance; that would be against nature, and is therefore impossible; and so it is with the heart. It is the eves that he loved as a lad which he sees through the gathering darkness of his death-bed; it is a chance but that he will always adore the star which first came to share his loneliness in this shadowed world above all the shining multitudes in heaven.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">And, though it is not every watcher who will find it, early or late, that star may rise for him, as it did for Arthur now. A man may meet a face which it is quite beyond his power to forget, and be touched of lips that print their kiss upon his very heart. Yes, the star may rise, to pursue its course, perhaps beyond the ken of his horizon, or only to set again before he has learnt to understand its beauty &#8212; rarely, very rarely, to shed its perfect light upon him for all his time of watching. The star may rise and set; the sweet lips whose touch still thrills him after so many years may lie to-day</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Beyond the graveyard&rsquo;s barren wall,&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">or, worse still, have since been sold to some richer owner. But if once it has risen, if once those lips have met, the memory <span class="t31">must</span> remain; the Soul knows no forgetfulness, and, the little thread of life spun out, will it not claim its own? For the compact that it has sealed is holy among holy things; that love which it has given is of its own nature, and not of the body alone &#8212; it is inscrutable as death, and everlasting as the heavens.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Yes, the fiat has gone forth; for good or for evil, for comfort or for scorn, for the world and for eternity, he loves her! Henceforth that love, so lightly and yet so irredeemably given, will become the guiding spirit of his inner life, rough-hewing his destinies, directing his ends, and shooting its memories and hopes through the whole fabric of his being like an interwoven thread of gold. He may sin against it, but he can never forget it; other interests and ties may overlay it, but they cannot extinguish it; he may drown its fragrance in voluptuous scents, but, when these have satiated and become hateful, it will re-arise, pure and sweet as ever. Time or separation cannot destroy it &#8212; for it is immortal; use cannot stale it, pain can only sanctify it. It will be to him as a beacon-light to the sea-worn mariner that tells of home and peace upon the shore, as a rainbow-promise set upon the sky. It alone of all things pertaining to him will defy the attacks of the consuming years, and when, old and withered, he lays him down to die, it will at last present itself before his glazing eyes, an embodied joy, clad in shining robes, and breathing the airs of Paradise!</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">For such is love to those to whom it has been given to see him face to face.</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p29"><span class="t29">亚</span><span class="t28">瑟</span><span class="t27">那</span><span class="t28">夜</span><span class="t27"> </span><span class="t28">噩</span><span class="t27">梦</span>缠身，梦中斗犬撕咬的场景里，最大最凶的那只竟长着乔治的红发脑袋——这颗不协调地安在斯纳利欧尸体上的头颅，让他惊醒时仍觉毛骨悚然。他正与贝拉米爵士争论"若枪杀这怪物该算杀人罪还是屠狗罪"，晨光已透过蕾丝窗帘的缝隙。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">五月一日的黎明格外晴朗。亚瑟拎着钓竿溜出宅邸时，晨露在阿莱克新结痂的背脊上滚动。通往布拉瑟姆湖的小径两侧，野蔷薇的香气混着潮湿的苔藓味扑面而来。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">同一时刻，安吉拉正推开修道院宅邸的格子窗。她二十岁生日的晨光里，宠物乌鸦杰克用喙轻叩窗棂。白色晨袍的系带垂落在橡木地板上，她突然想起昨日父亲提及的垂钓青年——这念头让她编辫子的手指微微发颤。当她最终将及膝长发盘成时兴的样式时，鸽灰色裙摆已沾满窗台飘进的槐花。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">此刻亚瑟正站在卡雷斯福特古橡树下。两堵残墙间的深水区，五斤重的鲤鱼刚划破镜面般的水面。他坐在僧侣曾冥想过的石座上整理钓具，忽然注意到一只独脚站立的渡鸦。视线越过这黑色生灵，他看见——</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">苔原般蔓延的绿裙摆，被晨风吹起的珍珠纽扣，以及从野蔷薇丛中突然抬起的脸庞。那双正倒映着湖光的灰绿色眼睛，让他忘记手中鱼线已缠成死结。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">这个二十四岁的年轻人此刻展现出最动人的神态——当温和的理性与突如其来的悸动在蓝眼睛中交战，连渡鸦都歪头打量他微启的唇线。老练的妇人会看出这是个易被命运摆布的青年；少女则会在日记里写下"面容清秀"；而安吉拉只是将编到一半的野花环攥出了汁液。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"天啊！"这句话不受控制地从他心底迸出——像被晨露压弯的蕨叶突然弹起，"您美得令人窒息！"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">安吉拉手中的山楂花枝应声落地。五片雪白花瓣沾上泥土的瞬间，她脸颊泛起比朝霞更艳丽的红晕。这猝不及防的赞美像块烧红的炭，烫得她睫毛剧烈颤动，却奇异地没引发怒火——或许再古板的淑女，也无法对如此赤诚的失态真正动怒。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">亚瑟的耳根此刻比钓竿的浮标还红。他慌乱拾起掉落的帽子："请原谅我的唐突...方才您从薄雾中走来，我还以为是五月的精灵..."目光落在她裙摆沾的野蔷薇花瓣上，"或是山楂花幻化的女神。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">第二阵红潮漫过少女的脖颈。这含蓄的恭维让她连指尖都泛起粉色，却找不到任何发作的理由。当她垂下那双仿佛刚窥见过天堂的灰绿色眼睛时，亚瑟突然意识到——</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">这美丽远超出五官的精致，更像某种神性光辉的具象化。晨风掀起她鬓角碎发的弧度，让他想起佛罗伦萨教堂壁画里手捧百合的天使。渡鸦突然发出沙哑的鸣叫，少女终于抬起睫毛：</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"先生，"她的声音像竖琴最低的那根弦在振动，"您踩到我的花环了。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"父亲说您会来钓鱼，"她低头看着被踩碎的野花，"但没想到这么早..."裙摆已微微转向离去的方向。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">亚瑟的钓竿突然倒在苔藓上。"您一定是卡雷斯福特小姐！"这句话脱口而出时，他鬼使神差地向前半步，正好挡住小径拐角处的阳光。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"我是安吉拉。"她被迫停在这片突然降临的阴影里，睫毛在脸颊投下颤动的弧线，"至于您——父亲说过，亚瑟·海瑟姆先生。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"我们还是表亲呢！"这话刚出口他就后悔了——那点微薄的血缘关系，恐怕比蛛丝还脆弱。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">但少女突然抬起眼帘："除了乔治表哥，您是我唯一的亲戚。"她伸来的手掌像片新落的菩提叶，"很高兴认识您，表兄。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">亚瑟接住这只手时，渡鸦突然从橡树上振翅而起。二十年来第一次，安吉拉听见自己心跳的声音压过了晨鸟的啼鸣。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"您不会比我更欣喜了，"他摩挲着阿莱克残缺的耳朵，"去年母亲去世后，我就再没亲人了。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"您很爱她？"安吉拉的声音轻得像橡树新生的气根。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">亚瑟的喉结动了动。少女立刻垂下眼帘，假装被渡鸦的骚动吸引——两只黑羽恶魔正轮番啄击阿莱克缠着绷带的臀部。当她用山楂花枝驱赶时，晨光恰好穿过枯枝上的新芽，在苔藓上投下钟表般的刻度。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"它们嫉妒心太重，"她拂开黏在裙摆上的鸦羽，"这是咬死斯纳利欧的英雄吧？"指尖轻触斗牛犬塌陷的鼻梁，"父亲说它像头温顺的羔羊——如果没人招惹的话。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">亚瑟突然笑出声。这笑声惊飞了正在偷啄钓饵盒的渡鸦，也惊醒了凝固的时间。"八点了，"她指向被嫩叶半掩的枯枝，"阳光照到那根树杈时，就是早餐时间。"裙摆扫过沾露的紫罗兰丛，她忽然回头，"您会来拜访吗？父亲说——"后半句话被晨风吹散在橡树梢头。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"您观察得真仔细，"他望着枯枝上移动的光斑，声音突然发紧，"可我还不想这么快失去新认的表亲——今晚六点二十的火车就要带我离开了。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">安吉拉手中的山楂枝突然折断。晨露从断面渗出，沾湿她珍珠母贝般的指甲。"我以为您会多留些时日，"她盯着自己裙摆上的树影，声音比蛛丝还轻。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"若不是阿莱克闯祸..."亚瑟突然踢开一颗石子，"不过离开艾尔斯沃斯不等于永别。"他意有所指地补充，却看见少女正困惑地数着裙褶上的绣花——这让他莫名松了口气。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"下午三点我会随父亲去拜访，"她突然指向湖湾处的芦苇丛，"园丁总在那儿下夜钓——现在请跟我来。"这段临时延长的路程让阿莱克瘸着腿多绕了半里路，也让亚瑟发现她左颊有个若隐若现的梨涡。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">当黑橡木的树影缩短到第三步石阶时，安吉拉突然转身："我该走了。"这句话像突然合上的怀表，截断了正在讨论的鳟鱼产卵季。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"为什么非要现在？"他脱口而出时，渡鸦正叼走她发间掉落的山楂花。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"其实..."她无意识地捻着裙带上那颗脱线的珍珠，"今天是我二十岁生日。老保姆皮戈特准备了礼物，若我迟到..."阳光突然照亮她睫毛上挂着的细小露珠，"她筹划了整整三个月呢。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">亚瑟的钓竿突然滑入芦苇丛。"生日快乐！"他弯腰拾竿时，心跳比钓线缠住的浮标还乱，"我能否...也送件礼物？"喉结滚动了两下，"虽然可能不值一提。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">安吉拉倒退半步撞上山楂树，震落的花瓣像场微型雪崩。"您不必——"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"别怕，不是实体物件。"他摘下沾在她袖口的苍耳，"只是个...朋友的承诺。"这句话在晨光中舒展开来，比蛛网更透明，却比橡树根更坚实。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">渡鸦突然发出沙哑的鸣叫。当亚瑟抬头时，少女的耳垂已红得像她手中揉碎的山楂果。远处修道院的早餐钟声恰在此刻敲响，惊起满湖银光粼粼的涟漪。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"您太客气了，"她脸颊泛起山楂汁般的红晕，"我只有弗雷泽先生一位朋友...但若您真愿意..."裙摆突然扫过沾露的蕨丛，"做您的朋友会让我很开心。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">这句话尾音未落，她已消失在橡树林间，两只渡鸦像黑色披风般追随着她。早餐桌上，老保姆皮戈特正捧着绣有歪斜字母的手帕等待——而少女啃着冷面包时，舌尖还残留着某种陌生的甜味。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">在花园小径，她撞见踱步的父亲。"怎么不邀请海瑟姆先生共进早餐？"菲利普的文明杖戳进松软的腐叶土。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"只有面包和牛奶..."她捏着裙带上那颗摇摇欲坠的珍珠。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"啊——"杖尖突然挑起一只甲虫，"也罢，下午总会见到的。"甲虫振翅飞向湖面时，他嘴角浮现出女儿未曾察觉的弧度。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">亚瑟瘫坐在苔藓覆盖的石座上，钓竿从指间滑落。这个二十四岁的年轻人突然理解了所有古老诗篇——当安吉拉的灰绿色眼睛望向他时，某种比晨光更原始的力量击穿了他的灵魂。他曾在牛津的舞会上挽过无数淑女的手，但此刻颤抖的指尖证明，那些不过是蝴蝶翅膀掠过的涟漪。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">真爱如闪电劈开橡树般降临。渡鸦的羽翼在湖面投下转瞬即逝的阴影，他忽然明白自己将永远记得这个清晨：山楂花的香气如何缠绕她的裙摆，晨露在她睫毛折射出的虹彩，以及那句"做您的朋友"时，她珍珠母贝般的指甲掐进掌心的弧度。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">命运之轮开始转动。有些人终其一生都在浅滩徘徊，而此刻深海已向他展露真容。这情感如此纯粹，像突然照进古井的阳光，让所有过往的调情与暧昧都成了劣质铜币的哑光。他想起母亲临终时紧握的褪色绢花——那是她十八岁收到的唯一情书夹带的信物。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">远处修道院的钟声惊起群鸟。亚瑟拾起钓竿时，发现钩尖挂着片白色蕾丝——想必是从她袖口勾落的。他将这意外所得藏进怀表夹层，恰如收藏一颗初升的星辰。而在湖对岸的橡木窗棂后，安吉拉正对着冷掉的早餐发呆，老保姆的絮叨像隔了层毛玻璃。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">命运的纺锤开始缠绕金线。当暮色降临时，谁又能预见这对年轻人将走向何方？或许正如诗人所叹：</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"墓园荒墙之外"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">这烙印已深深刻入灵魂。无论命运将安吉拉带往何方——是成为他人新娘，抑或长眠于冰冷墓园——她睫毛颤动的弧度将永远悬挂在亚瑟记忆的穹顶。肉体终将腐朽，但此刻在晨光中震颤的心弦，已超越时空的界限。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">真爱如同神迹。它可能化为指引航船的灯塔，也可能成为刺痛终身的荆棘。纵使他日后沉溺酒色，在巴黎贵妇的床笫间放浪形骸，某个恍惚的黎明，枕边人鬓角的栀子花香仍会突然幻化成山楂花的清冽。当垂暮之年的他躺在病榻上，所有虚度的年华都将褪色，唯有这个五月的清晨愈发清晰——渡鸦的羽翼如何掠过湖面，她转身时野蔷薇怎样勾住裙摆，以及那句未完成的告白如何在喉间酿成蜜与苦艾酒的混合物。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">修道院的晨祷钟声再次响起。亚瑟摩挲着怀表里那片蕾丝，突然领悟到某种超越宗教的虔诚。这情感将如金线般编织进他生命的锦缎，在每一个重要抉择时刻发出无声的震颤。或许终其一生他都无法真正拥有那个白色身影，但灵魂早已在四目相对的瞬间完成了永恒的缔约。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">命运之书在此刻翻过决定性的一页。当暮色降临艾尔斯沃斯庄园时，谁又能预见这惊鸿一瞥将引发怎样的风暴？唯有那只停在墓碑上的渡鸦，用血红色的眼睛凝视着时光长河里即将交汇的轨迹。</p>

														
 
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															 <h2 class="h21"><a id="a311"></a><a id="a312"></a><a id="a313"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2>

														
 
															 <p class="p28"><span class="t25"><img src="images/img23.jpg" width="135" height="32" alt="img23.jpg"/></span></p>

														
 
															-<p class="p29"><span class="t29">A</span><span class="t28">RTHUR</span><span class="t27"> </span><span class="t28">DID</span><span class="t27"> </span><span class="t28">NOT</span><span class="t27"> </span>do much fishing that morning; indeed, he never so much as got his line into the water &#8212; he simply sat there lost in dreams, and hoping in a vague way that Angela would come back again. But she did not come back, though it would be difficult to say what prevented her; for, had he but known it, she was for the space of a full hour sitting within a hundred yards of him, and occasionally peeping out to watch his mode of fishing with some curiosity. It was, she reflected, exceedingly unlike that practised by Jakes. She, too, was wishing that he would detect her, and come to talk to her; but, amongst other new sensations, she was now the victim of a most unaccountable shyness, and could not make up her mind to reveal her whereabouts.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">At last Arthur awoke from his long reverie, and remembered with a sudden pang that he had had nothing to eat since the previous evening, and that he was consequently exceedingly hungry. He also discovered, on consulting his watch, that it was twelve o&rsquo;clock, and, moreover, that he was quite stiff from sitting so long in the same position. So, sighing to think that such a vulgar necessity as that of obtaining food should force him to depart, he put up his unused fishing-rod and started for Isleworth, where he arrived just as the bell was ringing for lunch.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">George received him with cold civility, and asked him what sport he had, to which he was forced to reply &#8212; none.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Did you see anybody there?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Yes, I met Miss Caresfoot.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Ah! trust a girl to trail out a man. What is she like? I remember her a raw-boned girl of fourteen with fine eyes.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I think that she is the handsomest woman I ever saw,&rdquo; Arthur replied, coldly.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said George, with a rude little laugh, &ldquo;youth is always enthusiastic, especially when the object is of the dairymaid cut.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">There was something so intensely insolent in his host&rsquo;s way of talking that Arthur longed to throw a dish at him, but he restrained his feelings, and dropped the subject.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Let me see, you are only just home from India, are you?&rdquo; asked</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">George, presently.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I got back at the beginning of last month.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;And what were you doing there?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Travelling about and shooting.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Did you get much sport?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;No, I was rather unfortunate, but I and another fellow killed two tigers, and went after a rogue elephant; but he nearly killed us. I got some very good ibix-shooting in Cashmere, however.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;What do you intend to do with yourself now? Your education has been extravagantly expensive, especially the Cambridge part of it. Are you going to turn it to any account?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Yes. I am going to travel for another year, and then read for the Bar. There is no particular object in being called too young, and I wish to see something more of the world first.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Ah! I see, idleness called by a fine name.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Really I cannot agree with you,&rdquo; said Arthur, who was rapidly losing his temper.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Of course you can&rsquo;t, but every man has a right to choose his own road to the dogs. Come,&rdquo; he added, with a smile of malice, as he noticed Arthur&rsquo;s rising colour, &ldquo;no need to get angry; you see I stand <span class="t31">in loco parentis</span>, and feel bound to express my opinion.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I must congratulate you on the success with which you assume the character,&rdquo; answered Arthur, now thoroughly put-out; &ldquo;but, as everything I have done or mean to do is so distasteful to you, I think it is a pity that you did not give me the benefit of your advice a little sooner.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">George&rsquo;s only answer was a laugh, and presently the two parted, detesting each other more cordially than ever.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">At half-past three, when George was still away, for he had gone out with his bailiff immediately after lunch, Philip and his daughter were shown into the drawing-room, where we may be sure Arthur was awaiting them.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Mr. Caresfoot is not back yet,&rdquo; said Arthur, &ldquo;but I do not suppose that he will be long.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Oh! he will be here soon,&rdquo; said Philip, &ldquo;because I told him we were coming to call. What sort of sport did you have? What, none! I am very sorry. You must come and try again &#8212; ah! I forgot you are going away. by the way, Mr. Heigham, why should you go just yet? If you are fond of fishing, and have nothing better to do, come and put up at the Abbey House for a while; we are plain people, but there is plenty of room, and you shall have a hearty welcome. Would you care to come?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">It would have been amusing to any outsider to watch Angela&rsquo;s face as she heard this astounding proposition, for nobody had been invited inside her father&rsquo;s doors within her recollection. It assumed first of all a look of blank amazement, which was presently changed into one of absolute horror.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Would he come, indeed?&rdquo; reflected Arthur. &ldquo;Would he step into Paradise? would he accept the humble offer of free quarters in the Garden of Eden?&rdquo; Rapture beamed so visibly from every feature of his face that Philip saw it and smiled. Just as he was about to accept with enthusiasm, he caught sight of Angela&rsquo;s look of distress. It chilled him like the sudden shock of cold water; she did not wish him to come, he thought, she did not care for him. Obliged, however, to give an answer, he said,</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I shall be delighted if&rdquo; &#8212; and here he bowed towards her&#8212;&rdquo;Miss</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Caresfoot does not object.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;If father,&rdquo; broke in Angela, with hesitation, &ldquo;you could arrange that Mr. Heigham came to-morrow, not to-day, it would be more convenient. I must get a room ready.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Ah! domestic details; I had overlooked them. I daresay you can manage that &#8212; eh, Heigham?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Oh! yes, easily, thank you.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">As he said the words, the door was flung open, and &ldquo;Lady Bellamy&rdquo; was announced with the energy that a footman always devotes to the enunciation of a title, and next second a splendid creature, magnificently dressed, sailed into the room.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Ah! how do you do, Mr. Caresfoot?&rdquo; she said, in that low, rich voice that he remembered so well. &ldquo;It is some time since we met; indeed, it quite brings back old times to see you, when we were all young people together.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;At any rate, Lady Bellamy, you show no signs of age; indeed, if you will permit me to say so, you look more beautiful than ever.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Ah! Mr. Caresfoot, you have not forgotten how to be gallant, but let me tell you that it entirely depends upon what light I am in. If you saw me in the midst of one of those newfangled electric illuminations, you would see that I do look old; but what can one expect at forty?&rdquo; Here her glance fell upon Angela&rsquo;s face for the first time, and she absolutely started; the great pupils of her eyes expanded, and a dark frown spread itself for a moment over her countenance. Next second it was gone. &ldquo;Is it possible that that beautiful girl is your daughter? But, remembering her mother, I need not ask. Look at her, Mr. Caresfoot, and then look at me, and say whether or not I look old. And who is the young man? Her lover, I suppose &#8212; at any rate, he looks like it; but please introduce me.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Angela,&rdquo; said Philip, crossing to the window where they were talking, &ldquo;let me introduce you to Lady Bellamy. Mr. Heigham &#8212; Lady Bellamy.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss Caresfoot, though I think it is very generous of me to say so.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Angela looked puzzled.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo; she said.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;What! do you not guess why it is generous? Then look at yourself in the glass, and you will see. I used to have some pretension to good looks, but I could never have stood beside you at the best of times, and now &#8212;&#8212; Your mother, even when I was at my best, always <span class="t31">killed</span> me if I was in the same room with her, and you are even handsomer than your mother.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Angela blushed very much at this unqualified praise, and, putting it and the exclamation her appearance had that morning wrung from Arthur together, she suddenly came to the conclusion &#8212; for, odd as it may seem, she had never before taken the matter into serious consideration &#8212; that she must be very good-looking, a conclusion that made her feel extremely happy, she could not quite tell why.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">It was whilst she was thus blushing and looking her happiest and loveliest that George, returning from his walk, chanced to look in at the window and see her, and, gradually drawn by the attraction of her beauty, his eyes fixed themselves intently upon her, and his coarse features grew instinct with a mixture of hungry wickedness and delighted astonishment. It was thus that Arthur and Lady Bellamy saw him. Philip, who was looking at a picture in the corner of the room, did not see him; nor, indeed, did Angela. The look was unmistakable, and once more the dark frown settled upon Lady Bellamy&rsquo;s brow, and the expanding pupils filled the heavy-lidded eyes. As for Arthur, it made him feel sick with unreasonable alarm.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Next minute George entered the room with a stupid smile upon his face, and looking as dazed as a bat that has suddenly been shown the sun. Angela&rsquo;s heaven-lit beauty had come upon his gross mind as a revelation; it fascinated him, he had lost his command over himself.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Oh! here you are at last, George,&rdquo; said Lady Bellamy &#8212; it was always her habit to call him George. &ldquo;We have all been like sheep without a shepherd, though I saw you keeping an eye on the flock through the window.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">George started. He did not know that he had been observed.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I did not know that you were all here, or I would have been back sooner,&rdquo; he said, and then began to shake hands.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">When he came to Angela, he favoured her with a tender pressure of the fingers and an elaborate and high-flown speech of welcome, both of which were inexpressibly disagreeable to her. But here Lady Bellamy intervened, and skilfully forced him into a conversation with her, in which Philip joined.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;What does Lady Bellamy remind you of?&rdquo; Angela asked Arthur, as soon as the hum of talk made it improbable that they would be overheard.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Of an Egyptian sorceress, I think. Look at the low, broad forehead, the curling hair, the full lips, and the inscrutable look of the face.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;To my mind she is an ideal of the Spirit of Power. I am very much afraid of her, and, as for him&rdquo; &#8212; nodding towards George&#8212;&rdquo;I dislike him even more than I was prepared to,&rdquo; and she gave a little shudder. &ldquo;By the way, Mr. Heigham, you really must not be so rash as to accept my father&rsquo;s invitation.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;If you do not wish to see me, of course I will not,&rdquo; he answered, in a hurt and disappointed tone.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Oh! it is not that, indeed; how could you think so, when only this morning we agreed to be friends?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Well, what is it, then?&rdquo; he asked, blankly.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Why, Mr. Heigham, the fact is that we &#8212; that is, my old nurse and I, for my father is irregular in his meals, and always takes them by himself &#8212; live so very plainly, and I am ashamed to ask you to share our mode of life. For instance, we have nothing but bread and milk for breakfast;&rdquo; and the golden head sunk in some confusion before his amused gaze.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Oh! is that all?&rdquo; he said, cheerily. &ldquo;I am very fond of bread and milk.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;And then,&rdquo; went on Angela with her confession, &ldquo;we never drink wine, and I know that gentlemen do.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I am a teetotaller, so that does not matter.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Really?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Yes &#8212; really.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;But then, you know, my father shuts himself up all day, so that you will have nobody but myself to talk to.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Oh! never mind&rdquo; &#8212; encouragingly. &ldquo;I am sure that we shall get on.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Well, if, in spite of all this and a great deal more &#8212; ah! a very great deal that I have not time to tell you &#8212; you still care to come, I will do my best to amuse you. At any rate, we can read together; that will be something, if you don&rsquo;t find me too stupid. You must remember that I have only had a private education, and have never been to college like you. I shall be glad of the opportunity of rubbing up my classics a little; I have been neglecting them rather lately, and actually got into a mess over a passage in Aristophanes that I shall ask you to clear up.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">This was enough for Arthur, whose knowledge of the classics was that of the ordinary University graduate; he turned the subject with remarkable promptitude.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Tell me,&rdquo; he said, looking her straight in the face, &ldquo;are you glad that I am coming?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">The grey eyes dropped a little before the boldness of his gaze, but she answered, unhesitatingly,</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Yes, for my own sake I am glad; but I fear that you will find it very dull.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Come, Angela, we must be off; I want to be home by a quarter to six,&rdquo; said Philip just then.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">She rose at once and shook hands with Arthur, murmuring, &ldquo;Good-by till to-morrow morning,&rdquo; and then with Lady Bellamy.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">George, meanwhile, with the most unwonted hospitality, was pressing her father to stay to dinner, and, when he declined, announcing his intention of coming over to see him on the morrow. At last he got away, but not before Lady Bellamy had bid him a seemingly cordial adieu.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;You and your charming daughter must come and see me at Rewtham House, when we get in. What, have you not heard that Sir John has bought it from poor Maria Lee&rsquo;s executors?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Philip turned pale as death, and hurried from the room.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;It is good,&rdquo; reflected Lady Bellamy, as she watched the effect of her shaft, &ldquo;to let him know that I never forget.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">But, even when her father had gone, the path was still blocked to</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Angela.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;What!&rdquo; said George, who was, when in an amiable mood, that worst of all cads, a jocose cad, &ldquo;are you going to play truant, too, my pretty cousin? Then first you must pay the penalty, not a very heavy one, however.&rdquo; And he threw his long arm round her waist, and prepared to give her a cousinly embrace.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">At first Angela, not being accustomed to little jokes of the sort, did not understand what his intentions were, but as soon as she did, being an extremely powerful young woman, she soon put a stop to them, shaking George away from her so sharply by a little swing of her lithe body, that, stumbling over a footstool in his rapid backward passage, he in a trice measured his length upon the floor. Seeing what she had done, Angela turned and fled after her father.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">As for Arthur, the scene was too much for his risible nerves, and he fairly roared with laughter, whilst even Lady Bellamy went as near to it as she ever did.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">George rose white with wrath.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Mr. Heigham,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I see nothing to laugh at in an accident.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you?&rdquo; replied Arthur. &ldquo;I do; it is just the most ludicrous accident that I ever saw.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">George turned away muttering something that it was perhaps as well his guest did not hear, and at once began to attack Lady Bellamy.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;My dear George,&rdquo; was her rejoinder, &ldquo;let this little adventure teach you that it is not wise for middle-aged men to indulge in gallantries towards young ladies, and especially young ladies of thews and sinews. Good-night.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">At the same moment the footman announced that the dog-cart which</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Arthur had ordered was waiting for him.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Good-by, Mr. Heigham, good-by,&rdquo; said George, with angry sarcasm. &ldquo;Within twenty-four hours you have killed my favourite dog, taken offence at my well-meant advice, and ridiculed my misfortune. If we should ever meet again, doubtless you will have further surprises in store for me;&rdquo; and, without giving Arthur time to make any reply, he left the room.</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p29"><span class="t29">亚</span><span class="t28">瑟</span><span class="t27">那</span><span class="t28">天</span><span class="t27"> </span><span class="t28">早</span><span class="t27">晨</span>压根没碰钓竿。他坐在苔藓斑驳的石座上，目光穿过摇曳的芦苇丛——安吉拉其实就藏在百米外的山楂树后，裙摆被晨露浸透也浑然不觉。她数着他变换了十七次坐姿，却始终鼓不起勇气现身。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">正午钟声惊醒这场双向窥视时，亚瑟的胃袋正发出抗议。他收起崭新的钓具，发现钓钩上还挂着那片白色蕾丝。回程途经野蔷薇丛时，他鬼使神差地折下一枝半开的粉白花朵。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"收获如何？"乔治的餐刀在瓷盘上刮出刺耳声响。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"遇见卡雷斯福特小姐了。"亚瑟将蔷薇枝偷偷塞进胸袋。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"哈！"红发男人突然倾身，威士忌的气息喷在亚瑟脸上，"十四岁时她还是个骨瘦如柴的丫头——除了眼睛尚可。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"她是我见过最美的姑娘。"银叉在亚瑟指间弯成危险的弧度。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">乔治的嘲笑像钝刀锯木："乳臭未干的小子就爱把村姑当女神。"水晶杯里的冰块碰撞声掩盖了亚瑟指节爆响的声音。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">当话题转向印度时，亚瑟注意到主人正用绢布反复擦拭某把黄铜钥匙——正是昨夜保险柜的钥匙。阳光透过彩绘玻璃，在钥匙齿痕上投下血红色的光斑。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"游猎而已。"亚瑟的叉子碾碎盘中的水煮豌豆。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">乔治突然用切肉刀挑起块血淋淋的牛排："宰了几头老虎？"油光从他嘴角溢到胡须上。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"两头。还有头独象差点要了我们命——"亚瑟的拇指无意识摩挲着衬衫下那道蜿蜒的伤疤，"不过在克什米尔猎到几头不错的野山羊。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">餐刀突然插进橡木桌面。"剑桥三年就学会这些？"乔治的黄铜钥匙在指间翻转，"接下来打算怎么挥霍你母亲的遗产？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"环球旅行一年，然后准备律师资格考试。"亚瑟的视线扫过对方油亮的红发，"毕竟过早执业未必是好事。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"哈！"钥匙突然在乔治掌心停住，"纨绔子弟的漂亮说辞。"阳光透过彩色玻璃，在他眉骨投下紫红色的阴影，像道未愈的伤疤。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"恕难苟同。"亚瑟的指节在餐巾上压出青白色。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">乔治突然倾身向前，威士忌的气息喷在年轻人脸上："别激动嘛——"黄铜钥匙在他指间闪过寒光，"毕竟我现在可是你的监护人。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"监护人的演技真是炉火纯青，"亚瑟推开餐盘，瓷器的碰撞声像记耳光，"可惜这份关怀来得太迟。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">红发男人的笑声追着他直到走廊尽头。当下午三点的钟声敲响时，亚瑟正对着壁炉上方的裂镜整理领结——镜中突然映出安吉拉被阳光穿透的灰绿色裙摆。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"乔治马上回来，"他转身时踩到自己的影子，"他午餐后就和管家出去了。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">菲利普的文明杖在地毯上戳出凹痕："既然你喜欢垂钓——"老人突然瞥见女儿袖口沾着的山楂花瓣，"何不来修道院小住？我们虽简陋，倒有空房间。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">阳光突然穿过云层，将安吉拉睫毛的阴影投在微微颤抖的珍珠纽扣上。亚瑟胸袋里的野蔷薇枝突然变得滚烫。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">安吉拉的表情在父亲发出邀请时经历了奇妙的变化——先是像被雷击中的鸽子般僵住，随后泛起潮水般的惊恐。她无意识揪住裙摆的手指，将昂贵的丝绸攥出了永远无法抚平的褶皱。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">亚瑟的喜悦像突然点燃的烟火，却在瞥见她眼中慌乱时骤然熄灭。他机械地鞠躬："若卡雷斯福特小姐不介意——"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"明天！"少女突然打断，声音像绷紧的琴弦，"明天来好吗？今天...房间还没收拾..."她盯着自己鞋尖上摇摇欲坠的蝴蝶结，仿佛那是救命稻草。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">正当菲利普挑眉的瞬间，门厅突然传来夸张的通报声："贝拉米夫人到！"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">裹挟着晚香玉与龙涎香的风暴席卷而来。这位穿着孔雀蓝绸缎的贵妇像艘满帆的战舰驶入客厅，珠宝在她颈间碰撞出冰凉的声响。"亲爱的菲利普，"她戴着黑丝手套的指尖划过古董柜，"上次见面时，你还在为我偷摘你家的苹果道歉呢。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"岁月对您格外宽容，贝拉米夫人，"菲利普的文明杖在地毯上划出半圆，"倒比年轻时更明艳了。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">贵妇的黑羽扇突然停在唇畔："若在电灯下，您就会发现我眼角的皱纹——"扇尖突然转向安吉拉，"天！这位莫非是..."孔雀石耳坠随着她倒吸的凉气剧烈晃动。有那么一瞬，她瞳孔扩张得像是看见了幽灵。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">亚瑟注意到贵妇戴着黑纱手套的左手正死死掐住扇骨。当菲利普完成介绍时，贝拉米夫人已恢复慵懒的微笑："认识您真令我...愉悦，"她向安吉拉伸出戴满戒指的手，"虽然这么说实在宽宏大量。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">少女困惑地后退半步，撞翻了茶几上的银铃。清脆的碰撞声中，亚瑟突然发现——贵妇凝视安吉拉的眼神，像毒蛇盯着镜中的自己。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"您竟不明白我的慷慨从何而来？"贝拉米夫人的黑羽扇突然指向壁炉上方的威尼斯镜，"当年您母亲只要在场，所有男人都会变成瞎子——"扇骨阴影划过安吉拉的脸颊，"而您更胜一筹。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">少女耳尖瞬间红得像裙摆上溅到的山茱萸汁。今晨亚瑟那句脱口而出的赞美突然在耳边回响，让她第一次意识到——原来自己竟是美丽的。这个认知像口温热的蜂蜜酒，从喉咙一直暖到指尖。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">窗棂突然投下一道阴影。乔治正像只发现猎物的郊狼般紧盯着安吉拉，粗重的呼吸在玻璃上凝出白雾。亚瑟的指甲掐进掌心，而贝拉米夫人的扇子发出轻微的断裂声。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">当红发男人踉跄着闯入客厅时，眼中仍残留着被美杜莎凝视般的呆滞。"可算回来了，乔治，"贵妇的扇尖戳向他肋下，"刚才您扒着窗户的模样，活像偷窥欧罗巴的公牛。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">乔治的喉结滚动了一下。他此刻的模样，活像刚被强光照射过的蝙蝠。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"不知道诸位光临，有失远迎。"乔治的汗手在安吉拉指尖多停留了三秒，直到贝拉米夫人用黑羽扇狠狠敲打他的腕骨。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"贝拉米夫人让您联想到什么？"趁众人寒暄之际，安吉拉低声问道。她裙摆上的紫罗兰随着后退的脚步碾碎在地毯里。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">亚瑟注视着贵妇低垂的眉弓："像底比斯墓穴里的女祭司。"他目光扫过她饱满的唇线和蜷曲的鬓发，"那种会用圣甲虫下咒的。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">少女突然揪住珍珠项链："而那位——"她朝乔治的方向几不可察地偏头，"比预想的更令人作呕。"真丝手套的接缝处迸开细小的线头，"海瑟姆先生，请千万别接受父亲的邀请。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"若您厌恶我的拜访——"亚瑟胸袋里的野蔷薇突然变得滚烫。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"今晨才缔结的友谊，我怎会反悔？"她急切的辩解惊飞了茶几上的银匙。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">阳光穿过彩绘玻璃，在她锁骨投下斑驳的蓝影。亚瑟突然发现——她每次说谎时，右眼睫毛会比左眼多颤动一次。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"其实是..."安吉拉无意识地揉搓着裙摆上的紫罗兰污渍，"我们早餐只有面包牛奶——"晨光中她的睫毛像受惊的蝶翼，"父亲总在书房独自用餐。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">亚瑟突然笑出声，惊飞了窗台上的知更鸟："我小时候常偷喝牛奶罐底的奶油。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"而且..."珍珠项链在她指间绕成纠结的线圈，"我们家从不备酒。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"正合我意，"他向前半步，影子恰好笼罩住她不安的手指，"去年在印度发誓戒酒至今。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"当真？"她抬头时，发梢的山楂花落在两人之间的波斯地毯上。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"千真万确。"亚瑟的靴尖轻轻碰了碰那朵粉白的小花。远处贝拉米夫人的黑羽扇突然发出绢帛撕裂的声响。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"还有..."她突然踩到自己拖地的裙裾，"父亲终日闭门不出，您只能对着我这张乏味的脸。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">亚瑟的视线掠过她发间摇晃的珍珠："恰好我最擅长对着墙壁自言自语。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"好吧，"她突然从袖中抽出一本皮面小书，"若您不嫌我愚钝——"书页哗啦翻到夹着紫罗兰标本的那页，"昨天刚在阿里斯托芬的剧本里碰了钉子。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">亚瑟的喉结可疑地滑动了一下。这位剑桥高材生突然对窗外的橡树产生了浓厚兴趣："说到希腊文...您看那两只渡鸦像不像《伊利亚特》里的预兆？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">贝拉米夫人的黑羽扇突然停在半空。她锐利的目光在两人之间来回扫视，像发现了蛛网的裂缝。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"请看着我的眼睛回答，"亚瑟突然压低声音，"您真心希望我去吗？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">少女的灰绿色眼眸像暴风雨前的海面，泛起细碎的波澜："为我自己...是欢喜的。"她指尖的紫罗兰标本突然碎裂，"只怕您会觉得无趣。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"安吉拉！"菲利普的文明杖敲响大理石地面，"六点前必须到家。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">乔治突然像嗅到血腥的鲨鱼般凑近："明日定当登门拜访！"他黄铜钥匙的齿痕在菲利普袖口留下凹印。而贝拉米夫人正用黑羽扇掩住唇角："听说您还不知道？约翰爵士刚买下玛利亚·李的旧宅。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">当安吉拉的裙摆消失在门廊时，亚瑟突然发现——她遗落的那页阿里斯托芬剧本，正静静躺在波斯地毯的中央。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">菲利普的脸色瞬间惨白如墓园大理石，踉跄着冲出客厅。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"很好，"贝拉米夫人摩挲着扇骨上镶嵌的毒蛇眼宝石，"就该让他知道——我从不遗忘。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">安吉拉却被乔治堵在门廊。"急着去哪儿啊，小表妹？"红发男人突然张开双臂，"总得付点告别礼——"他带着威士忌气息的怀抱像张黏腻的蛛网。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">少女腰肢突然如柳条般扭转。乔治的靴跟绊倒孔雀绒脚凳时，她已像受惊的母鹿般消失在橡木门后。亚瑟的笑声震落了枝形吊灯的水晶坠饰，连贝拉米夫人扇面后的唇角都扭曲了一瞬。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">地毯上，那本翻开的阿里斯托芬剧本正停在《吕西斯特拉忒》的段落——女性们联合抵制战争的著名篇章。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">乔治爬起来时，脸色比摔碎的瓷瓶还惨白。"这有什么好笑？"他西装肘部裂开的线头像张嘲笑的嘴。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"怎么不好笑？"亚瑟擦着眼角，"简直比阿里斯托芬的喜剧还精彩。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">红发男人突然揪住黄铜钥匙，指节发白得像要捏碎什么。贝拉米夫人适时地用黑羽扇隔开两人："亲爱的乔治，"扇骨轻点他青筋暴起的太阳穴，"对年轻力壮的姑娘毛手毛脚——"她瞥向亚瑟胸袋里探头的野蔷薇，"可得当心摔断老骨头。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">马车夫的吆喝声穿透暮色。亚瑟最后瞥了一眼地毯上那本摊开的剧本，恰好是描写女性反抗暴政的章节。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"再会了，海瑟姆先生，"乔治的声音像钝刀刮过石板，"二十四小时内——你害死我的猎犬、蔑视我的忠告、还嘲笑我的不幸。"黄铜钥匙在他掌心划出血痕，"若再相见，真不知您还能带来什么'惊喜'。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">橡木门摔上的巨响惊飞了窗外的渡鸦。亚瑟弯腰拾起那本希腊剧本时，发现被压皱的那页正是描写复仇女神降临的段落。马车轮碾过砂石路的声响渐渐远去，而怀表夹层里的白色蕾丝，还残留着山楂花的香气。</p>

														
 
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															 <h2 class="h21"><a id="a314"></a><a id="a315"></a><a id="a316"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2>

														
 
															 <p class="p28"><span class="t25"><img src="images/img23.jpg" width="135" height="32" alt="img23.jpg"/></span></p>

														
 
															-<p class="p29"><span class="t29">E</span><span class="t28">ARLY</span><span class="t27"> </span><span class="t28">ON</span><span class="t27"> </span><span class="t28">THE</span><span class="t27"> </span>day following Arthur&rsquo;s departure from Isleworth, Lady Bellamy received a note from George requesting her, if convenient, to come and see him that morning, as he had something rather important to talk to her about.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p29">&ldquo;John,&rdquo; she said to her husband at breakfast, &ldquo;do you want the brougham this morning?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;No. Why?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Because I am going over to Isleworth.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Hadn&rsquo;t you better take the luggage-cart too, and your luggage in it, and live there altogether? It would save trouble, sending backwards and forwards,&rdquo; suggested her husband, with severe sarcasm.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Lady Bellamy cut the top off an egg with a single clean stroke &#8212; all her movements were decisive &#8212; before she answered.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I thought,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that we had done with that sort of nonsense some years ago; are you going to begin it again?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Yes, Lady Bellamy, I am. I am not going to stand being bullied and jeered at by that damned scoundrel Caresfoot any more. I am not going to stand your eternal visits to him.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;You have stood them for twenty years; rather late in the day to object now, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo; she remarked, coolly, beginning her egg.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;It is never too late to mend; it is not too late for you to stop quietly at home and do your duty by your husband.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Most men would think that I had done my duty by him pretty well. Twenty years ago you were nobody, and had, comparatively speaking, nothing. Now you have a title and between three and four thousand a year. Who have you to thank for that? Certainly not yourself.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Curse the title and the money! I had rather be a poor devil of an attorney with a large family, and five hundred a year to keep them on, than live the life I do between you and that vulgar beast Caresfoot. It&rsquo;s a dog&rsquo;s life, not a man&rsquo;s;&rdquo; and poor Bellamy was so overcome at his real or imaginary wrongs that the tears actually rolled down his puffy little face.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">His wife surveyed him with some amusement.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I think,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that you are a miserable creature.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Perhaps I am, Anne; but I tell you what it is, even a miserable creature can be driven too far. It may perhaps be worth your while to be a little careful.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">She cast one swift look at him, a look not without apprehension in it, for there was a ring about his voice that she did not like, but his appearance was so ludicrously wretched that it reassured her. She finished her egg, and then, slowly driving the spoon through the shell, she said,</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t threaten, John; it is a bad habit, and shows an un-Christian state of mind; besides, it might force me to cr-r-rush you, in self- defence, you know;&rdquo; and John and the egg-shell having finally collapsed together, Lady Bellamy ordered the brougham.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Having thus sufficiently scourged her husband, she departed in due course to visit her own taskmaster, little guessing what awaited her at his hands. After all, there is a deal of poetic justice in the world. Little Smith, fresh from his mother&rsquo;s apron-strings, is savagely beaten by the cock of the school, Jones, and to him Jones is an all-powerful, cruel devil, placed above all possibility of retribution. If, however, little Smith could see the omnipotent Jones being mentally ploughed and harrowed by his papa the clergyman, in celebration of the double event of his having missed a scholarship and taken too much sherry, it is probable that his wounded feelings would be greatly soothed. Nor does it stop there. Robinson, the squire of the parish, takes it out of the Reverend Jones, and speaks ill of him to the bishop, a Low Churchman, on the matter of vestments, and very shortly afterwards Sir Buster Brown, the Chairman of the Quarter Sessions, expresses his opinion pretty freely of Robinson in his magisterial capacity, only in his turn to receive a most unexampled wigging from Her Majesty&rsquo;s judge, Baron Muddlebone, for not showing him that respect he was accustomed to receive from the High Sheriff of the county. And even over the august person of the judge himself there hangs the fear of the only thing that he cannot commit for contempt, public opinion. Justice! why, the world is full of it, only it is mostly built upon a foundation of wrong.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Lady Bellamy found George sitting in the dining-room beside the safe that had so greatly interested her husband. It was open, and he was reading a selection from the bundle of letters which the reader may remember having seen in his hands before.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;How do, Anne?&rdquo; he said, without rising. &ldquo;You look very handsome this morning. I never saw a woman wear better.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">She vouchsafed no reply to his greeting, but turned as pale as death.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;What!&rdquo; she said, huskily, pointing with her finger to the letters in his hand, &ldquo;what are you doing with those letters?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Bravo, Anne; quite tragic. What a Lady Macbeth you would make! Come quote, &lsquo;All the perfumes of Araby will not sweeten this little hand. Oh, oh, oh!&rsquo; Go on.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;What are you doing with those letters?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Have you never broken a dog by showing him the whip, Anne? I have got something to ask of you, and I wish to get you into a generous frame of mind first. Listen now, I am going to read you a few extracts from a past that is so vividly recorded here.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">She sank into a chair, hid her face in her hands, and groaned. George, whose own features betrayed a certain nervousness, took a yellow sheet of paper, and began to read.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;&lsquo;Do you know how old I am to-day? Nineteen, and I have been married a year and a half. Ah! what a happy lass I was before I married; how they worshipped me in my old home! &ldquo;Queen Anne,&rdquo; they always called me. Well, they are dead now, and pray God they sleep so sound that they can neither hear nor see. Yes, a year and a half &#8212; a year of happiness, half a year of hell; happiness whilst I did not know you, hell since I saw your face. What secret spring of wickedness did you touch in my heart? I never had a thought of wrong before you came. But when I first set eyes upon your face, I felt some strange change come over me: I recognized my evil destiny. How you discovered my fascination, how you led me on to evil, you best know. I am no coward, I do not wish to excuse myself, but sometimes I think that you have much to answer for, George. Hark, I hear my baby crying, my beautiful boy with his father&rsquo;s eyes. Do you know, I believe that the child has grown afraid of me: it beats at me with its tiny hands. I think that my very dog dislikes me now. They know me as I am; Nature tells them; everybody knows me except <span class="t31">him</span>. He will come in presently from visiting his sick and poor, and kiss me and call me his sweet wife, and I shall act the living lie. Oh! God, I cannot bear it much longer &#8212; &#8212;&rsquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;There is more of the same sort,&rdquo; remarked George, coolly. &ldquo;It affords a most interesting study of mental anatomy, but I have no time to read more of it. We will pass on to another.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Lady Bellamy did not move; she sat trembling a little, her face buried in her hands.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">He took up a second letter and began to read a marked passage.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;&lsquo;The die is cast, I will come; I can no longer resist your influence; it grows stronger every day, and now it makes me a murderess, for the shock will kill him. And yet I am tired of the sameness and smallness of my life; my mind is too big to be cramped in such narrow fetters.&rsquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;That extract is really very funny,&rdquo; said George, critically. &ldquo;But don&rsquo;t look depressed, Anne, I am only going to trouble you with one more dated a year or so later. Listen.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;&lsquo;I have several times seen the man you sent me; he is a fool and contemptible in appearance, and, worst of all, shows signs of falling in love with me; but, if you wish it, I will go through the marriage ceremony with him, poor little dupe! You will not marry me yourself, and I would do more than that to keep near you; indeed, I have no choice, I <span class="t31">must</span> keep near you. I went to the Zoological Gardens the other day and saw a rattlesnake fed upon a live rabbit; the poor thing had ample room to run away in, but could not, it was fascinated, and sat still and screamed. At last the snake struck it, and I thought that its eyes looked like yours. I am as helpless as that poor animal, and you are much more cruel than the snake. And yet my mind is infinitely stronger than your own in every way. I cannot understand it. What is the source of your power over me? But I am quite reckless now, so what does it matter? I will do anything that does not put me within reach of the law. You know that my husband is dead. I <span class="t31">knew</span> that he would die; he expired with my name upon his lips. The child, too, I hear, died in a fit of croup; the nurse had gone out, and there was no one to look after it. Upon my word, I may well be reckless, for there is no forgiveness for such as you and I. As for little B &#8212;&#8212; , as I think I told you, I will lead him on and marry him: at any rate, I will make his fortune for him: I <span class="t31">must</span> devote myself to something, and ambition is more absorbing than anything else &#8212; at least, I shall rise to something great. Good-night; I don&rsquo;t know which aches most, my head or my heart.&rsquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Now that extract would be interesting reading to Bellamy, would it not?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Here she suddenly sprang forward and snatched at the letter. But George was too quick for her; he flung it into the safe by his side, and swung the heavy lid to.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;No, no, my dear Anne, that property is too valuable to be parted with except for a consideration.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Her attempt frustrated, she dropped back into her chair.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;What are you torturing me for?&rdquo; she asked, hoarsely. &ldquo;Have you any object in dragging up the ghost of that dead past, or is it merely for amusement.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Did I not tell you that I had a favour to ask of you, and wished to get you into a proper frame of mind first?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;A favour. You mean that you have some wickedness in hand that you are too great a coward to execute yourself. Out with it; I know you too well to be shocked.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Oh, very well. You saw Angela Caresfoot, Philip&rsquo;s daughter, here yesterday.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Yes, I saw her.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Very good. I mean to marry her, and you must manage it for me.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Lady Bellamy sat quite still, and made no answer.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;You will now,&rdquo; continued George, relieved to find that he had not provoked the outburst he had expected, &ldquo;understand why I read you those extracts. I am thoroughly determined upon marrying that girl at whatever cost, and I see very clearly that I shall not be able to do so without your help. With your help, the matter will be easy; for no obstacle, except the death of the girl herself, can prevail against your iron determination and unbounded fertility of resource.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;And if I refuse?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I must have read those extracts to very little purpose for you to talk about refusing. If you refuse, the pangs of conscience will overcome me, and I shall feel obliged to place these letters, and more especially those referring to himself, in the hands of your husband. Of course it will, for my own sake, be unpleasant to me to have to do so, but I can easily travel for a year or two till the talk has blown over. For you it will be different. Bellamy has no cause to love you now; judge what he will feel when he knows all the truth. He will scarcely keep the story to himself, and, even were he to do so, it could easily be set about in other ways, and, in either case, you will be a ruined woman, and all that you have toiled and schemed for for twenty years will be snatched from you in an instant. If, on the other hand, you do not refuse, and I cannot believe that you will, I will on my wedding-day burn these uncomfortable records before your eyes, or, if you prefer it, you shall burn them yourself.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;You have only seen this girl once; is it possible that you are in earnest in wishing to marry her?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Do you think that I should go through this scene by way of a joke? I never was so much in earnest in my life before. I am in love with her, I tell you, as much in love as though I had known her for years. What happened to you with reference to me has happened to me with reference to her, or something very like it, and marry her I must and will.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Lady Bellamy, as she heard these words, rose from her chair and flung herself on the ground before him, clasping his knees with her hands.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Oh, George, George!&rdquo; she cried, in a broken voice, &ldquo;have some little pity; do not force me to do this unnatural thing. Is your heart a stone, or are you altogether a devil, that by such cruel threats you can drive me into becoming the instrument of my own shame? I know what I am, none better: but for whose sake did I become so? Surely, George, I have some claim on your compassion, if I have none on your love. Think again, George; and, if you will not give her up, choose some other means to compass this poor girl&rsquo;s ruin.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Get up, Anne, and don&rsquo;t talk sentimental rubbish. Not but what,&rdquo; he added, with a sneer, &ldquo;it is rather amusing to hear you pitying your successful rival.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">She sprang to her feet, all the softness and entreaty gone from her face, which was instead now spread with her darkest and most vindictive look.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;<span class="t31">I</span> pity her!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I hate her. Look you, if I have to do this, my only consolation will be in knowing that what I do will drag my successor down below my own level. I suffer; she shall suffer more; I know you a fiend, she shall find a whole hell with you; she is purer and better than I have ever been; soon you shall make her worse than I have dreamt of being. Her purity shall be dishonoured, her love betrayed, her life reduced to such chaos that she shall cease to believe even in her God, and in return for these things I will give her &#8212; <span class="t31">you</span>. Your new plaything shall pass through my mill, George Caresfoot, before ever she comes to yours; and on her I will repay with interest all that I have suffered at your hands;&rdquo; and, exhausted with the fierceness of her own invective and the violence of conflicting passions, she sank back into her chair.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Bravo, Anne! quite in your old style. I daresay that the young lady will require a little moulding, and she could not be in better hands; but mind, no tricks &#8212; I am not going to be cheated out of my bride.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;You need not fear, George; I shall not murder her. I do not believe in violence; it is the last resort of fools. If I did, you would not be alive now.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">George laughed a little uneasily.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Well, we are good friends again, so there is no need to talk of such things,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The campaign will not be by any means an easy one &#8212; there are many obstacles in the way, and I don&rsquo;t think that my intended has taken a particular fancy to me. You will have to work for your letters, Anne; but first of all take a day or two to think it over, and make a plan of the campaign. And now good-by; I have got a bad headache, and am going to lie down.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">She rose, and went without another word; but all necessity for setting about her shameful task was soon postponed by news that reached her the next morning, to the effect that George Caresfoot was seriously ill.</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p29"><span class="t29">阿</span><span class="t28">瑟离开艾尔沃斯</span><span class="t27">的</span><span class="t28">次</span><span class="t27">日</span><span class="t28">清</span><span class="t27">晨</span><span class="t28">，贝拉米夫人</span><span class="t27">收</span><span class="t28">到乔治的便笺</span><span class="t27">，</span><span class="t28">请她若得方便</span><span class="t27">，</span><span class="t28">当日上午前去一晤</span><span class="t27">，</span><span class="t28">称有要事相商</span><span class="t27">。</span></p>

														
 
															+<p class="p29">"约翰，"早餐时她对丈夫说，"今早要用马车吗？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"不用。怎么？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"我要去趟艾尔沃斯。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"何不把行李车也带上，连同行李一起搬去常住？省得来回奔波。"丈夫尖刻地讽刺道。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">贝拉米夫人利落地削去蛋壳顶端——她所有动作都带着决断——才开口回应。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"我以为，"她说，"这类无聊话头几年前就该结束了，你又要旧事重提？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"没错，贝拉米夫人。我受够了被凯里斯福特那个混账欺辱嘲弄，也受够你没完没了往那儿跑。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"这情形你已忍受了二十年，现在才反对不嫌太迟？"她从容地开始吃鸡蛋。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"改过永远不晚。你完全可以安静待在家里，尽妻子的本分。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"多数男人会认为我已超额尽到本分。二十年前你籍籍无名，家底微薄。如今既有爵位又有三四千镑年收入。该感谢谁？反正不是你自己。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"让爵位和钱财见鬼去吧！我宁可当个拖家带口的穷律师，靠五百镑年薪过活，也好过夹在你和粗鄙的凯里斯福特之间——这简直是狗过的日子！"可怜的贝拉米说到激动处，泪珠竟从他浮肿的脸上滚落。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">他妻子饶有兴味地打量着他。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"我看，"她说，"你可真是个可怜虫。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"也许吧，安妮。但你要知道，就算可怜虫被逼急了也会咬人。你最好收敛些。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">她迅速瞥了他一眼——那目光里闪过一丝不安，因他话中的狠劲令人生畏。但见他狼狈的模样实在滑稽，她又放下心来。吃完鸡蛋后，她缓缓用勺子碾碎蛋壳："别威胁人，约翰。这习惯不好，显得心胸狭隘。再说..."瓷勺突然将蛋壳压得粉碎，"逼急了我可能也会...碾碎你。"随着蛋壳的彻底崩塌，贝拉米夫人吩咐备车。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">如此这般惩戒过丈夫后，她如期出发去拜会自己的"监工"，全然不知等待她的将是什么。这世上的因果报应总是环环相扣：刚离开母亲围裙带的史密斯被校霸琼斯痛揍时，怎会想到此刻琼斯正因考试落榜又偷喝雪莉酒，被当牧师的父亲训得灵魂出窍？若他得见这场景，想必能稍解心头之恨。而故事还在继续——乡绅罗宾逊向低教派主教告发琼斯牧师穿戴高教派祭衣，转眼治安法官布朗爵士就在季审法庭上公开批评罗宾逊渎职，不料自己反被巡回法官马德伯恩男爵当庭训斥，罪名是对皇室法官缺乏该有的敬意。即便尊贵如法官大人，也终要屈服于他唯一无法以藐视法庭罪惩治的力量——舆论。正义啊！这世间从不缺少正义，只不过大多建立在错误的地基上。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">贝拉米夫人发现乔治正坐在餐厅里，身旁是那个曾让她丈夫极为着迷的保险箱。箱门敞开着，他正从那叠信件中挑着读——读者或许还记得先前曾见过这些信件在他手中。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"好啊，安妮？"他没有起身，只是说道，"今早你可真漂亮。我还没见过哪个女人比你更会打扮。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">她对他的问候置若罔闻，脸色却霎时惨白如纸。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"什么！"她嘶哑着嗓子，手指向他手中的信件，"你拿这些信干什么？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"好样的，安妮，真够戏剧性的。你简直能演麦克白夫人了！来段台词吧，'阿拉伯所有的香料都熏不香这只小手了。噢，噢，噢！'继续啊。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"你拿这些信到底要干什么？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"你难道没见过用鞭子驯狗吗，安妮？我有事相求，所以想先让你心软些。听着，我要给你念几段往事——这些文字把过去记录得活灵活现。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">她跌进椅子里，双手掩面发出呻吟。乔治自己的神色也透出不安，他拿起一张泛黄的纸页开始念诵。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"'知道我今天多大了吗？十九岁，结婚已有一年半。啊！婚前我是多么快乐的姑娘，在娘家时他们多么宠我！都叫我"安妮女王"。如今他们都死了，愿上帝让他们安眠不闻不见。这一年半时光——一年在天堂，半年在地狱；不识你时如沐春风，见你容颜后堕入深渊。你究竟拨动了我心底哪根恶之弦？在你出现前我从未起过邪念。可初次见你那一刻，我感到某种诡异的变化：我认出了自己的厄运。你如何察觉我的迷恋，又如何诱我堕落，你最清楚。我不是懦夫，不想为自己开脱，但有时觉得你难辞其咎，乔治。听，孩子在哭，我那有着父亲眼睛的漂亮男孩。知道吗？这孩子竟开始怕我：用小手拍打我。连爱犬现在都讨厌我。它们看穿了我的本质；这是天性使然；所有人都看清了我，除了<span class="t31">他</span>。他马上就会探望完贫病者回来，吻着我喊甜心妻子，而我要继续演这场活生生的骗局。上帝啊！我再也承受不下去了——'"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"后面都是类似的疯话，"乔治冷淡地评论，"倒是精神分析的绝佳案例，但没时间念完了。我们换一篇。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">贝拉米夫人纹丝不动，双手掩面微微颤抖着。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">他抽出第二封信，开始朗读标记的段落。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"'骰子已掷出，我会来；我再也无法抵抗你的影响力，它日益强大，如今竟使我成为杀人犯——那打击会要了他的命。可我厌倦了生活的单调琐碎，我的灵魂如此辽阔，怎能禁锢在这般狭窄的枷锁中。'"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"这段实在荒唐可笑，"乔治讥诮道，"别垂头丧气的安妮，再念最后一封就放过你，大约是一年后的信。听着。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"'多次见过你派来的人：相貌愚蠢可鄙，最糟的是竟显出爱慕我的迹象。但若你坚持，我会与这可怜的小蠢货完成婚礼！你拒绝娶我，而为留在你身边我愿付出更多；事实上我别无选择，<span class="t31">必须</span>留在你身边。前日去动物园看响尾蛇捕食活兔，那可怜东西本有充足空间逃跑，却被蛊惑般呆坐尖叫。当毒蛇出击时，我觉得它的眼睛像极了你。我如那兔子般无助，而你比毒蛇更残忍。可我的智慧明明远胜于你，这悖论令我困惑。你掌控我的力量究竟源自何处？不过如今我已无所顾忌，这些还重要吗？只要不触及法律底线，我愿做任何事。你知道我丈夫死了。我<span class="t31">早知</span>他会死——他最后呼唤着我的名字断气。听说孩子也因喉痉挛夭折，当时保姆外出无人照看。说实话，我确实该破罐破摔，像你我这般罪人哪配得到宽恕。至于小B——如我所言，我会引诱他结婚：至少能让他飞黄腾达。我<span class="t31">必须</span>找点寄托，而野心比什么都更能吞噬人心——终有一日，我会攀上巅峰。晚安，分不清是头痛还是心更痛。'"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"这段要是念给贝拉米听，想必精彩极了？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">她突然纵身向前抢夺信件，但乔治反应更快——将信纸甩进身旁保险箱，重重合上铁盖。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"别急，亲爱的安妮，这份财产太珍贵，除非等价交换。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">抢夺失败的她跌回座椅，嗓音嘶哑："折磨我有什么乐趣？翻这些陈年旧账究竟另有所图，还是单纯取乐？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"不是说过有事相求吗？总得先调整好你的心态。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"相求？"她冷笑，"怕是又酝酿了什么不敢亲自下手的勾当。直说吧，我早对你那些把戏免疫了。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"行啊，直说吧。昨天你见到菲利普的女儿安吉拉·凯尔斯福特了。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"是见到了。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"很好。我要娶她，你得帮我促成这事。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">贝拉米夫人静坐如雕塑，不发一语。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"现在明白，"乔治见她竟未如预料般暴怒，松了口气继续道，"我为何要念那些旧信了。我铁了心要不惜代价娶那姑娘，但缺了你的协助绝无可能。有你出手就简单多了——只要那姑娘不断气，凭你的铁腕手段和层出不穷的计谋，没什么障碍解决不了。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"如果我拒绝呢？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"你若拒绝，我方才那些信算是白念了。"乔治冷笑道，"拒绝的后果无非是让我良心不安，不得不把这些信——特别是涉及你丈夫的那些——亲手交到他手里。当然，这对我也不是件愉快的事，大不了出国避两年风头。可你呢？贝拉米如今已对你毫无爱意，若知道全部真相会怎样？他绝不会守口如瓶，就算他肯，我也有的是办法让这事传开。到那时，你二十年来苦心经营的一切，瞬间就会化为乌有。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"若你应允——我知道你定会应允——婚礼当天，我当着你的面烧掉这些恼人的证据，或者由你亲手烧毁也行。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"只见了一面的姑娘，你当真非娶不可？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"你以为我在说笑？我这辈子从没这么认真过。告诉你，我对她一见钟情，就像你当年对我那样——或者说差不多。这婚我结定了。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">贝拉米夫人突然从椅子上滑跪下来，双手紧抱住他的膝盖。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"乔治！"她声音破碎，"发发慈悲吧，别逼我作这种伤天害理的事。你的心是石头做的吗？还是说根本就是个魔鬼，非要用这种威胁逼我亲手毁掉自己的尊严？我清楚自己是什么货色——可这都是为了谁？就算得不到你的爱，总该有点怜悯吧？乔治，再想想！就算不放棄她，也別用这种方式毀了那可怜姑娘..."</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"起来安妮，别说这些肉麻废话。"他讥讽道，"不过听你同情情敌，倒是有趣得很。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">她猛地站起，脸上柔情尽褪，只剩下最阴鸷的恨意。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"<span class="t31">同情</span>？"她嘶声道，"我恨她！听着，若我非做这事不可，唯一的安慰就是知道继任者会比我跌得更惨。我受过的苦，她要加倍承受；我见识过你这个恶魔，她要面对的将是整个地狱！她如今比我纯洁高尚？很快你就会让她变得比我最不堪的梦境还堕落！她的贞洁将被玷污，爱情遭背叛，生活混乱到连上帝都不再相信——而作为回报，我会把她献给你<span class="t31">你</span>。乔治·凯尔斯福特，你的新玩物得先经过我的碾磨。我要连本带利，把从你这受的罪全还在她身上！"激烈的控诉与情绪冲突让她精疲力竭，跌坐回椅子中。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"精彩啊安妮！还是当年那个味儿。"乔治鼓掌道，"那位小姐确实需要调教，而你是最佳人选。不过记住——别耍花招，我的新娘可不容有失。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"放心，"她冷笑，"我不搞谋杀。暴力是蠢货的最后手段，若信这个，你早活不到今天。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">乔治的笑声里掺进一丝不安。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"既然重修旧好，何必说这些扫兴话。"他摆摆手，"这场战役可不轻松——障碍重重，何况我的未婚妻似乎对我不太感冒。安妮，那些信你得用真本事来换。先花一两天制定作战计划吧。告辞了，头疼得厉害，得去躺会儿。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">她起身离去，未再多言。但次日清晨传来的消息，却让这场肮脏交易暂时搁浅——乔治·凯尔斯福特病危了。</p>

														
 
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															 <h2 class="h21"><a id="a317"></a><a id="a318"></a><a id="a319"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2>

														
 
															 <p class="p28"><span class="t25"><img src="images/img23.jpg" width="135" height="32" alt="img23.jpg"/></span></p>

														
 
															-<p class="p29"><span class="t29">T</span><span class="t28">HE</span><span class="t27"> </span><span class="t28">DOG</span><span class="t27">-</span><span class="t28">CART</span><span class="t27"> </span><span class="t28">THAT</span><span class="t27"> </span>Arthur had hired to take him away belonged to an old-fashioned inn in the parish of Rewtham, situated about a mile from Rewtham House (which had just passed into the hands of the Bellamys), and two from Bratham Abbey, and thither Arthur had himself driven. His Jehu, known through all the country round as &ldquo;Old Sam,&rdquo; was an ancient ostler, who had been in the service of the Rewtham &ldquo;King&rsquo;s Head,&rdquo; man and boy, for over fifty years, and from him Arthur collected a good deal of inaccurate information about the Caresfoot family, including a garbled version of all the death of Angela&rsquo;s mother and Philip&rsquo;s disinheritance.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">After all, there are few more comfortable places than an inn; not a huge London hotel, where you are known as No. 48, and have to lock the door of your cell when you come out of it, and deliver up your key to the warder in the hall; but an old-fashioned country establishment where they cook your breakfast exactly as you like it, and give you sound ale and a four-poster. At least, so thought Arthur, as he sat in the private parlour smoking his pipe and reflecting on the curious vicissitudes of existence. Now, here he was, with all the hopes and interests of his life utterly changed in a single space of six-and- twenty hours. Why, six-and-twenty hours ago, he had never met his respected guardian, nor Sir John and Lady Bellamy, nor Philip and his daughter. He could hardly believe that it was only that morning that he had first seen Angela. It seemed weeks ago, and, if time could have been measured on a new principle, by events and not by minutes, it would have been weeks. The wheel of life, he thought, revolves with a strange irregularity. For months and years it turns slowly and steadily under the even pressure of monotonous events. But, on some unexpected day, a tide comes rushing down the stream of being, and spins it round at speed; and then tears onward to the ocean called the Past, leaving its plaything to creak and turn, to turn and creak, or wrecked perhaps and useless.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Thinking thus, Arthur made his way to bed. The excitement of the day had wearied him, and for a while he slept soundly, but, as the fatigue of the body wore off, the activity of his mind asserted itself, and he began to dream vague, happy dreams of Angela, that by degrees took shape and form, till they stood out clear before the vision of his mind. He dreamt that he and Angela were journeying, two such happy travellers, through the green fields in summer, till by-and-by they came to the dark entrance of a wood, into which they plunged, fearing nothing. Thicker grew the overshadowing branches, and darker grew the path, and now they journeyed lover-wise, with their arms around each other. But, as they passed along, they came to a place where the paths forked, and here he stooped to kiss her. Already he could feel the thrill of her embrace, when she was swept from him by an unseen force, and carried down the path before them, leaving him rooted where he was. But still he could trace her progress as she went, wringing her hands in sorrow; and presently he saw the form of Lady Bellamy, robed as an Egyptian sorceress, and holding a letter in her hand, which she offered to Angela, whispering in her ear. She took it, and then in a second the letter turned to a great snake, with George&rsquo;s head, that threw its coils around her and struck at her with its fangs. Next, the darkness of night rushed down upon the scene, and out of the darkness came wild cries and mocking laughter, and the choking sounds of death. And his senses left him.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">When sight and sense came back, he dreamt that he was still walking down a wooded lane, but the foliage of the overhanging trees was of a richer green. The air was sweet with the scent of unknown flowers, beautiful birds flitted around him, and from far-off came the murmur of the sea. And as he travelled, broken-hearted, a fair woman with a gentle voice stood by his side, and kissed and comforted him, till at length he grew weary of her kisses, and she left him, weeping, and he went on his way alone, seeking his lost Angela. And then at length the path took a sudden turn, and he stood on the shore of an illimitable ocean, over which brooded a strange light, as where</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&rdquo;The quiet end of evening smiles</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Miles on miles.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">And there, with the soft light lingering on her hair, and tears of gladness in her eyes, stood Angela, more lovely than before, her arms outstretched to greet him. And then the night closed in, and he awoke.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">His eyes opened upon the solemn and beautiful hour of the first quickening of the dawn, and the thrill and softness that comes from contact with the things we meet in sleep was still upon him. He got up and flung open his lattice window. From the garden beneath rose the sweet scent of May flowers, very different from that of his dream which yet lingered in his nostrils, whilst from a neighbouring lilac- bush streamed the rich melody of the nightingale. Presently it ceased before the broadening daylight, but in its stead, pure and clear and cold, arose the notes of the mavis, giving tuneful thanks and glory to its Maker. And, as he listened, a great calm stole upon his spirit, and kneeling down there by the open window, with the breath of spring upon his brow, and the voice of the happy birds within his ears, he prayed to the Almighty with all his heart that it might please Him in His wise mercy to verify his dream, inasmuch as he would be well content to suffer, if by suffering he might at last attain to such an unutterable joy. And rising from his knees, feeling better and stronger, he knew in some dim way that that undertaking must be blest which, in such a solemn hour of the heart, he did not fear to pray God to guide, to guard, and to consummate.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">And on many an after-day, and in many another place, the book of his life would reopen at this well-conned page, and he would see the dim light in the faint, flushed sky, and hear the song of the thrush swelling upwards strong and sweet, and remember his prayer and the peace that fell upon his soul.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">By ten o&rsquo;clock that morning, Arthur, his dog, and his portmanteau, had all arrived together in front of the Abbey House. Before his feet had touched the moss-grown gravel, the hall-door was flung open, and Angela appeared to welcome him, looking, as old Sam the ostler forcibly put it afterwards to his helper, &ldquo;just like a hangel with the wings off.&rdquo; Jakes, too, emerged from the recesses of the garden, and asked Angela, in a tone of aggrieved sarcasm, as he edged his way suspiciously past Aleck, why the gentleman had not brought the &ldquo;rampingest lion from the Zoologic Gardens&rdquo; with him at once? Having thus expressed his feelings on the subject of bull-dogs, he shouldered the portmanteau, and made his way with it upstairs. Arthur followed him up the wide oak stairs, every one of which was squared out of a single log, stopping for a while on the landing, where the staircase turned, to gaze at the stern-faced picture that hung so that it looked through the large window facing it, right across the park and over the whole stretch of the Abbey lands, and to wonder at the deep-graved inscription of &ldquo;Devil Caresfoot&rdquo; set so conspicuously beneath.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">His room was the largest upon the first landing, and the same in which Angela&rsquo;s mother had died. It had never been used from that hour to this, and, indeed, in a little recess or open space between a cupboard and the wall, there still stood two trestles, draped with rotten black cloth, that had originally been brought there to rest her coffin on, and which Angela had overlooked in getting the room ready.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">This spacious but somewhat gloomy apartment was hung round with portraits of the Caresfoots of past ages, many of which bore a marked resemblance to Philip, but amongst whom he looked in vain for one in the slightest degree like Angela, whose handiwork he recognized in two large bowls of flowers placed upon the dark oak dressing-table.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Just as Jakes had finished unbuckling his portmanteau, a task that he had undertaken with some groaning, and was departing in haste, lest he should be asked to do something else, Arthur caught sight of the trestles.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;What are those?&rdquo; he asked, cheerfully.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Coffin-stools,&rdquo; was the abrupt reply.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Coffin-stools!&rdquo; ejaculated Arthur, feeling that it was unpleasant to have little details connected with one&rsquo;s latter end brought thus abruptly into notice. &ldquo;What the deuce are they doing here?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Brought to put the last as slept in that &lsquo;ere bed on, and stood ever since.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you think,&rdquo; insinuated Arthur, gently, &ldquo;that you had better take them away?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Can&rsquo;t do so; they be part of the furniture, they be &#8212; stand there all handy for the next one, too, maybe you;&rdquo; and he vanished with a sardonic grin.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Jakes did not submit to the indignities of unbuckling portmanteaus and having his legs sniffed at by bull-dogs for nothing. Not by any means pleased by suggestions so unpleasant, Arthur took his way downstairs, determined to renew the coffin-stool question with his host. He found Angela waiting for him in the hall, and making friends with Aleck.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Will you come in and see my father for a minute before we go out?&rdquo; she said.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Arthur assented, and she led the way into the study, where Philip always sat, the same room in which his father had died. He was sitting at a writing-table as usual, at work on farm accounts. Rising, he greeted Arthur civilly, taking, however, no notice of his daughter, although he had not seen her since the previous day.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Well, Heigham, so you have made up your mind to brave these barbarous wilds, have you? I am delighted to see you, but I must warn you that, beyond a pipe and a glass of grog in the evening, I have not much time to put at your disposal. We are rather a curious household. I don&rsquo;t know whether Angela has told you, but for one thing we do not take our meals together, so you will have to make your choice between the dining-room and the nursery, for my daughter is not out of the nursery yet;&rdquo; and he gave a little laugh. &ldquo;On the whole, perhaps you had better be relegated to the nursery; it will, at any rate, be more amusing to you that the society of a morose old fellow like myself. And, besides, I am very irregular in my habits. Angela, you are staring at me again; I should be so very much obliged if you would look the other way. I only hope, Heigham, that old Pigott won&rsquo;t talk your head off; she has got a dreadful tongue. Well, don&rsquo;t let me keep you any longer; it is a lovely day for the time of year. Try to amuse yourself somehow, and I hope for your sake that Angela will not occupy herself with you as she does with me, by staring as though she wished to examine your brains and backbone. Good-by for the present.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;What does he mean?&rdquo; asked Arthur, as soon as they were fairly outside the door, &ldquo;about your staring at him?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Mean!&rdquo; answered poor Angela, who looked as though she were going to cry. &ldquo;I wish I could tell you; all I know is that he cannot bear me to look at him &#8212; he is always complaining of it. That is why we do not take our meals together &#8212; at least, I believe it is. He detests my being near him. I am sure I don&rsquo;t know why; it makes me very unhappy. I cannot see anything different in my eyes from anybody else&rsquo;s, can you?&rdquo; and she turned them, swimming as they were with tears of mortification, full upon Arthur.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">He scrutinized their depths very closely, so closely indeed, that presently she turned them away again with a blush.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I am sure you have looked long enough. Are they different?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Very different,&rdquo; replied the oracle, with enthusiasm.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;How?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Well, they &#8212; they are larger.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Is that all?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;And they are deeper.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Deeper &#8212; that is nothing. I want to know if they produce any unpleasant effect upon you &#8212; different from other people&rsquo;s eyes, I mean?&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Well, if you ask me, I am afraid that your eyes do produce a strange effect upon me, but I cannot say that it is an unpleasant one. But you did not look long enough for me to form a really sound opinion. Let us try again.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;No, I will not; and I do believe that you are laughing at me. I think that is very unkind;&rdquo; and she marched on in silence.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be angry with me, or I shall be miserable. I really was not laughing at you; only, if you knew what wonderful eyes you have got, you would not ask such ridiculous questions about them. Your father must be a strange man to get such ideas. I am sure I should be delighted if you would look at me all day long. But tell me something more about your father: he interests me very much.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Angela felt the tell-tale blood rise to her face as he praised her eyes, and bit her lips with vexation; it seemed to her that she had suddenly caught an epidemic of blushing.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I cannot tell you very much about my father, because I do not know much; his life is, to a great extent, a sealed book to me. But they say that once he was a very different man, when he was quite young, I mean. But all of a sudden his father &#8212; my grand-father, you know &#8212; whose picture is on the stairs, died, and within a day or two my mother died too; that was when I was born. After that he broke down, and became what he is now. For twenty years he has lived as he does now, poring all day over books of accounts, and very rarely seeing anybody, for he does all his business by letter, or nearly all of it, and he has no friends. There was some story about his being engaged to a lady who lived at Rewtham when he married my mother, which I daresay you have heard; but I don&rsquo;t know much about it. But, Mr. Heigham&rdquo; &#8212; and here she dropped her voice&#8212;&rdquo;there is one thing that I must warn you of: my father has strange fancies at times. He is dreadfully superstitious, and thinks that he has communications with beings from another world. I believe that it is all nonsense, but I tell you so that you may not be surprised at anything he says or does. He is not a happy man, Mr. Heigham.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Apparently not. I cannot imagine any one being happy who is superstitious; it is the most dreadful bondage in the world.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Where are your ravens to-day?&rdquo; asked Arthur, presently.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know; I have not seen very much of them for the last week or two. They have made a nest in one of the big trees at the back of the house, and I daresay that they are there, or perhaps they are hunting for their food &#8212; they always feed themselves. But I will soon tell you,&rdquo; and she whistled in a soft but penetrating note.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Next minute there was a swoop of wings, and the largest raven, after hovering over her for a minute, lit upon her shoulder, and rubbed his black head against her face.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;This is Jack, you see; I expect that Jill is busy sitting on her eggs. Fly away, Jack, and look after your wife.&rdquo; She clapped her hands, and the great bird, giving a reproachful croak, spread his wings, and was gone.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;You have a strange power over animals to make those birds so fond of you.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Do you think so? It is only because I have, living as I do quite alone, had time to study all their ways, and make friends of them. Do you see that thrush there? I know him well; I fed him during the frost last winter. If you will stand back with the dog, you shall see.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Arthur hid himself behind a thick bush and watched. Angela whistled again, but in another note, with a curious result. Not only the thrush in question, but quite a dozen other birds of different sorts and sizes, came flying round her, some settling at her feet, and one, a little robin, actually perching itself upon her hat. Presently she dismissed them as she had done the raven, by clapping her hands, and came back to Arthur.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;In the winter time,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I could show you more curious things than that.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I think that you are a witch,&rdquo; said Arthur, who was astounded at the sight.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">She laughed as she answered,</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;The only witchery that I use is kindness.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p29"><span class="t29">狗</span><span class="t28">拉</span><span class="t27"> </span><span class="t28">马</span><span class="t27">-</span><span class="t28">车</span><span class="t27"> </span><span class="t28">之</span><span class="t27"> </span>亚瑟雇来离开的这辆狗拉马车属于鲁瑟姆教区一家老式客栈，距离刚转入贝拉米家族手中的鲁瑟姆庄园约一英里，距布拉瑟姆修道院两英里。亚瑟亲自驾着车，他的车夫是方圆百里人称"老山姆"的马夫，这位在"国王之首"客栈服务了五十多年的老人，向亚瑟提供了许多关于凯里斯福特家族的不实传闻，包括安吉拉母亲之死和菲利普被剥夺继承权的扭曲版本。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">说到底，很少有比乡村客栈更惬意的地方了——不是那种将客人编号为48号、出入都要锁牢房般房门并将钥匙交给大堂看守的伦敦大酒店，而是能按你喜好烹制早餐、提供醇厚麦芽酒和四柱床的老式客栈。至少亚瑟是这么想的，此刻他正坐在私人客厅里抽着烟斗，思索人生奇特的变迁。短短二十六小时内，他全部的生活希望与兴趣竟彻底改变。二十六小时前，他还不认识那位令人尊敬的监护人，没见过约翰·贝拉米爵士夫妇，更不知菲利普父女为何人。他几乎不敢相信初见安吉拉竟是今早的事——在由事件而非分钟衡量的新时间维度里，那仿佛已是数周前。生命的车轮，他想，总以诡异的无常转动：经年累月在单调事件中平稳缓行，却在某个猝不及防的日子被存在的洪流裹挟飞旋，待潮水奔向名为"往昔"的海洋后，徒留这玩偶吱呀空转，或成废骸。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">这般想着，亚瑟走向卧榻。白日的兴奋令他疲惫，初时睡得酣沉，待身体倦意消退，活跃的思绪便开始编织关于安吉拉的朦胧美梦。梦境渐次成形：夏日绿野中，他与安吉拉如一对欢愉旅人徜徉，直至闯入幽暗林口。愈行愈深时，他们以恋人姿态相拥前行，却在岔路口即将亲吻之际，安吉拉被无形之力卷走。他眼睁睁看她哀泣着远去，见贝拉米夫人如埃及女巫现身，递出信件——那信笺忽化作长着乔治头颅的巨蛇缠绕撕咬。随后黑夜吞噬场景，只余濒死的窒息与狞笑。他的意识于此中断。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">当知觉复苏时，他梦见自己仍行走在绿荫更浓的林径，空气中飘荡着异域花香，珍禽环绕，远处海声呢喃。一位温柔女子前来吻慰，直至他厌倦其唇，女子泣别。独行的他终至岔路尽头，站在泛着诡谲微光的无垠海岸，继续寻觅失落的安吉拉。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“暮色在静谧中微笑</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;绵延千里。”</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">安吉拉站在那里，柔和的微光流连于她的发梢，喜悦的泪光在眼中闪烁，比往日更加动人。她张开双臂迎接他，随后夜幕降临，他醒了过来。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">他睁开双眼时，正值黎明初现的庄严美妙时刻，梦中邂逅之物带来的战栗与柔情仍萦绕心头。他起身推开格子窗，五月鲜花的芬芳从下方花园升腾而起——这与仍徘徊在他鼻腔的梦境气息截然不同，而近处丁香丛中正流淌着夜莺丰沛的旋律。这歌声很快在渐亮的天光中停歇，取而代之的是鸫鸟清冽纯净的鸣唱，正用婉转的音符向造物主献上感恩与荣耀。他聆听着，巨大的宁静悄然占据心灵，便跪在敞开的窗前，任凭春风轻抚额角，欢快的鸟鸣盈满耳际，全心全意地向全能者祈祷：愿主以其智慧的仁慈应验他的梦境，倘若必须历经苦难方能抵达那不可言喻的极乐，他甘之如饴。当他从跪姿起身时，感到身心俱振，冥冥中知晓这项事业必将蒙福——在这心灵最庄严的时刻，他无畏地祈求上帝指引、庇佑并成全。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">此后经年，无论身处何方，当他再度翻阅人生之书这一熟稔篇章时，总会看见淡粉色天幕中朦胧的晨光，听见画眉鸟愈渐嘹亮的甜美啼鸣，并忆起那个祈祷与降临灵魂的安宁。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">当天上午十点，亚瑟带着他的狗和旅行箱同时抵达修道院宅邸前。他的靴底还未触到生满青苔的砾石，大厅门便豁然洞开——安吉拉宛若天使降临般现身相迎（正如老马夫萨姆后来对助手强调的"活像折了翅膀的天使"）。园丁杰克斯也从花园深处踱出，边警惕地绕过阿列克边用饱含委屈的讥讽语气问安吉拉，为何这位先生不干脆把动物园"最凶暴的狮子"也一并带来？如此抒发完对斗牛犬的不满后，他扛起行李箱踏上了宽阔的橡木楼梯。亚瑟跟随其后，这些每级都由整段原木凿成的台阶在转弯处形成平台，他驻足凝视那幅悬挂在正对落地窗的威严肖像——画中人的目光仿佛能穿透玻璃，越过庄园直达修道院领地的每个角落，而下方赫然镌刻的"魔鬼凯尔斯福特"铭文更令他暗自惊诧。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">他的房间位于二楼平台最宽敞处，正是安吉拉母亲当年离世的所在。自那悲惨时刻起，这房间便无人使用。在壁橱与墙壁形成的凹处，仍矗立着两副蒙着朽烂黑布的支架——那本是用来停放灵柩的，安吉拉在收拾房间时竟未察觉。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">这间轩敞却阴郁的房间里，四壁悬挂着历代凯尔斯福特家族的肖像。其中不少与菲利普相貌酷肖，但亚瑟遍寻不见任何与安吉拉神似的画像。唯有深色橡木梳妆台上两钵鲜花，透露着她曾来此布置的痕迹。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">当杰克斯终于呻吟着解完行李箱皮带，正欲匆匆逃离以免被差遣其他差事时，亚瑟突然瞥见了那对支架。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"这些是什么？"他故作轻松地问道。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"停尸架。"对方生硬地回答。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"停尸架？！"亚瑟失声叫道，突然意识到与死亡相关的器具就这样赤裸裸地闯入视线，不禁毛骨悚然。"它们怎么会在这儿？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"当年给上一位睡这床的主儿停灵用的，打那会儿就搁这儿了。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"您看是不是..."亚瑟委婉地暗示，"把它们搬走比较好？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"搬不得！这可是正经家具——"老园丁咧出个讥诮的冷笑，"留着给下一位用正好，保不齐就是阁下您呢。"话音未落，人已消失在门外。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">杰克斯忍着屈辱解开行李箱皮带，又被斗牛犬嗅来嗅去，可不是白受罪的。亚瑟被这番晦气话弄得心烦意乱，下楼时决意要就停尸架的事再与主人理论。他在门厅遇见正与阿列克亲热玩耍的安吉拉。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"出去前能先见我父亲一面吗？"她问道。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">亚瑟应允后，她引路走向书房——那里是菲利普常驻之所，也是他父亲当年咽气的地方。只见菲利普如常伏案核算农场账目，见客便起身致意，却对昨日至今未见的女儿视若无睹。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"好啊，海厄姆，看来你已决意要挑战这片蛮荒之地了？"菲利普起身相迎，眼底却不见笑意，"容我丑话说在前头——除了晚间能陪你抽袋烟喝杯酒，我怕是抽不出空来招待你。我们这个家有些古怪..."他瞥了眼僵立的安吉拉，"比如我们从不共进晚餐，你得在餐厅和育儿室之间做选择。毕竟我女儿还没到能上正餐桌的年纪。"他短促地笑了一声，"不过对你来说，育儿室或许更有趣些，总比陪我这么个阴郁老头强。顺便提醒，我家那位皮戈特太太的舌头可比锯子还利索。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">安吉拉睫毛颤动如垂死蝶翼，菲利普突然提高声调："又用那种眼神盯着我！劳驾把眼珠子转开行吗？"他转向亚瑟时又换上敷衍的温和，"趁着天气好快出去转转吧，但愿我这女儿别像研究解剖标本似的盯着你看。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">刚踏出门槛，亚瑟便问："他说的'那种眼神'是什么意思？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"什么意思？"安吉拉声音发颤，蓄满泪水的眼眸直直望来，恍若两泓即将决堤的秋水，"自我记事起，父亲就厌恶我的目光。不共餐的缘由...或许正因如此。"她指尖无意识揪住裙褶，"可我的眼睛与常人有什么不同？你说呢？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">他凝视得如此专注，目光几乎要穿透那两泓秋水，逼得她终于赧然垂睫。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"看够了吧？"她指尖无意识摩挲着裙边蕾丝，"可看出什么不同了？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"大不相同。"他脱口而出，声音里带着自己都未察觉的热切。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"比如？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"这个...更显澄澈。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"就这？"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"还更...深邃。"他喉结滚动，像在吞咽某种难以言说的情绪。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"深邃？这算什么答案。"她突然驻足，裙摆扫过沾露的草丛，"我是问——我的眼睛可会让你不适？和其他人不同的那种。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">亚瑟的指尖无意识摩挲着怀表链："若要说特别之处...确实有种奇异感受，但绝非不快。"他忽然向前半步，"方才看得不够真切，不如..."</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"休想！"安吉拉猛地别过脸去，耳尖泛起珊瑚色，"你分明在取笑我。"她疾行数步，皮鞋跟碾碎了几朵野蔷薇。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">亚瑟追上前去，晨雾沾湿了他的眉睫："若惹你生气，倒比叫我吞针还难受。你这双眼睛..."他声音突然轻得像掠过麦田的风，"若你知晓它们多动人，便不会问这般傻问题了。令尊当真古怪——要我说，巴不得你日日瞧着我才好。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">霞色瞬间从她脖颈漫到额角，安吉拉几乎要咬破唇瓣。这该死的潮红竟像传染病似的。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"父亲的事..."她突然踢开脚边石子，"我知道的不过皮毛。据说祖父猝逝那日——就是楼梯画像里那位——紧接着母亲因生我难产而亡。自那以后，他便把自己锁在账本里，二十年来书信代步，不见外客。"她突然压低嗓音，"有件事你需知晓，他总幻想能与亡灵对话..."话音未落，林间乌鸦突然齐声啼叫。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"迷信是世上最可怖的枷锁。"亚瑟望着惊飞的鸦群说道，却没察觉少女瞬间苍白的脸色。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"今日怎不见你的渡鸦？"他故作轻松地问。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"说不准呢，"她指尖轻抚过肩头并不存在的羽毛，"这两周它们总在后院橡树梢徘徊——许是在孵蛋，或是觅食去了。"忽将两指抵于唇间，一声清越哨音刺破晨雾。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">霎时黑影掠空，最大那只渡鸦盘旋数圈后稳稳落定她肩头，乌黑的喙亲昵地蹭着她脸颊，羽翼扇动间带起檀香味的微风。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"这是杰克，"她笑着任渡鸦啄弄自己发丝，"吉尔怕是正忙着孵蛋呢。"忽地击掌三下，渡鸦发出委屈般的嘎鸣，振翅时扫落几片山毛榉叶。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">亚瑟望着叶片旋转落地："能让猛禽如此依恋，你莫不是个女巫？"他半开玩笑地说，却见她耳后碎发无风自动。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"女巫？"她忽然弯腰拾起一枚松果，阳光在指缝间碎成金粉，"不过是独居久了，连鸟雀振翅的频率都听得真切罢了。"她突然指向三米外的山楂树，"瞧见那只画眉没？去年寒冬我喂过它燕麦。"突然正色道，"现在——请带着你的猎犬退后十步。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">亚瑟刚隐入接骨木丛，便听见一串水晶风铃般的颤音。霎时间，不仅那只画眉，连带着知更鸟、山雀甚至傲慢的松鸦都从树冠俯冲而下。最小的那只红胸脯知更鸟竟直接落在她宽檐帽的绢花上，歪着头打量人类青年藏身的方向。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">"隆冬时节..."她突然击掌惊飞鸟群，转身时裙裾扫过沾露的蕨类，"还能让你见识更奇妙的。"尾音里带着蜂蜜酒般的甜涩。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">亚瑟从树后走出，肩头还沾着片羽毛："我愈发确信——"他故意压低声音，"你若不是德鲁伊转世，便是偷了狄安娜的银弓。"</p>

														
 
															+<p class="p34">少女忽然笑出声来，惊飞了刚飞回的知更鸟："若真要说魔法..."她指尖掠过亚瑟袖口沾的羽毛，"不过是把面包屑都给了它们，自己饿着肚子罢了。"</p>

														
 
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															 <h2 class="h21"><a id="a320"></a><a id="a321"></a><a id="a322"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2>

														
 
															 <p class="p28"><span class="t25"><img src="images/img23.jpg" width="135" height="32" alt="img23.jpg"/></span></p>

														
 
															 <p class="p29"><span class="t29">P</span><span class="t28">IGOTT</span><span class="t27">, A</span><span class="t28">NGELA</span><span class="t27">&rsquo;</span><span class="t28">S</span><span class="t27"> </span><span class="t28">OLD</span><span class="t27"> </span>nurse, was by no means sorry to hear of Arthur&rsquo;s visit to the Abbey House, though, having in her youth been a servant in good houses, she was distressed at the nature of his reception. But, putting this aside, she thought it high time that her darling should see a young man or two, that she might &ldquo;learn what the world was like.&rdquo; Pigott was no believer in female celibacy, and Angela&rsquo;s future was a frequent subject of meditation with her, for she knew very well that her present mode of life was scarcely suited either to her birth, her beauty, or her capabilities. Not that she ever, in her highest flights, imagined Angela as a great lady, or one of society&rsquo;s shining stars; she loved to picture her in some quiet, happy home, beloved by her husband, and surrounded by children as beautiful as herself. It was but a moderate ambition for one so peerlessly endowed, but she would have been glad to see it fulfilled. For of late years there had sprung up in nurse Pigott&rsquo;s mind an increasing dislike of her surroundings, which sometimes almost amounted to a feeling of horror. Philip she had always detested, with his preoccupied air and uncanny ways.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;There must,&rdquo; she would say, &ldquo;be something wicked about a man as is afraid to have his own bonny daughter look him in the face, to say nothing of his being that mean as to grudge her the clothes on her back, and make her live worse nor a servant-girl.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">Having, therefore, by a quiet peep through the curtains, ascertained that he was nice-looking and about the right age, Pigott confessed to herself that she was heartily glad of Arthur&rsquo;s arrival, and determined that, should she take to him on further acquaintance, he should find a warm ally in her in any advances he might choose to make on the fortress of Angela&rsquo;s affections.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;I do so hope that you don&rsquo;t mind dining at half-past twelve, and with my old nurse,&rdquo; Angela said, as they went together up the stairs to the room they used as a dining-room.</p>

														
 
															-<p class="p34">&ldquo;Of course I don&rsquo;t &#8212; I like it, really I do.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															+<p class="34">&ldquo;一定有，她会说，关于一个男人是邪恶的害怕自己漂亮的女儿看着他的脸，更不用说他的意思是嫉妒她的衣服在她的背上，让她生活更糟，也不是一个女仆。rdurl;</p>

														
 
															+<p class="34">因此，皮戈特透过窗帘悄悄地窥视，确定他长得很漂亮，年龄也差不多，她向自己承认，她对亚瑟的到来感到非常高兴，并决心，如果她进一步认识他，他应该在她身上找到一个温暖的盟友，无论他可能会选择在安吉拉的感情堡垒上做出什么让步。</p>

														
 
															+<p class="34">&ldquo;我确实希望你不介意十二点半和我的老护士一起吃饭，安吉拉说道，他们一起上楼，来到他们用作餐厅的房间。</p>\n<p class="34">&ldquo;我当然不喜欢，我真的喜欢。&#39; rdurl;</p>

														
 
															 <p class="p34">Angela shook her head, and, looking but partially convinced, led the way down the passage, and into the room, where, to her astonishment, she perceived that the dinner-table was furnished with a more sumptuous meal than she had seen upon it for years, the fact being that Pigott had received orders from Philip which she did not know of, not to spare expense whilst Arthur was his guest.</p>

														
 
															 <p class="p34">&ldquo;What waste,&rdquo; reflected Angela, in whom the pressure of circumstances had developed an economical turn of mind, as she glanced at the unaccustomed jug of beer. &ldquo;He said he was a teetotaller.&rdquo;</p>

														
 
															 <p class="p34">A loud &ldquo;hem!&rdquo; from Pigott, arresting her attention, stopped all further consideration of the matter. That good lady, who, in honour of the occasion, was dressed in a black gown of a formidable character and a many-ribboned cap, was standing up behind her chair waiting to be introduced to the visitor. Angela proceeded to go through the ceremony which Pigott&rsquo;s straight-up-and-down attitude rendered rather trying.</p>