章节正文
the girls. The husbands . . ." He winked. Miss
Bessie, absorbed in her knitting, coloured faintly.
"Bessie! my hat!" old Carvil bellowed out sud-
denly. He had been sitting under the tree mute
and motionless, like an idol of some remarkably
monstrous superstition. He never opened his
mouth but to howl for her, at her, sometimes about
her; and then he did not moderate the terms of his
abuse. Her system was never to answer him at all;
and he kept up his shouting till he got attended to
--till she shook him by the arm, or thrust the
mouthpiece of his pipe between his teeth. He was
one of the few blind people who smoke. When he
felt the hat being put on his head he stopped his
noise at once. Then he rose, and they passed to-
gether through the gate.
He weighed heavily on her arm. During their
slow, toilful walks she appeared to be dragging
with her for a penance the burden of that infirm
bulk. Usually they crossed the road at once (the
cottages stood in the fields near the harbour, two
hundred yards away from the end of the street),
and for a long, long time they would remain in
view, ascending imperceptibly the flight of wooden
steps that led to the top of the sea-wall. It ran
on from east to west, shutting out the Channel like
a neglected railway embankment, on which no train
had ever rolled within memory of man. Groups
of sturdy fishermen would emerge upon the sky,
walk along for a bit, and sink without haste. Their
brown nets, like the cobwebs of gigantic spiders,
lay on the shabby grass of the slope; and, looking
up from the end of the street, the people of the
town would recognise the two Carvils by the creep-
ing slowness of their gait. Captain Hagberd, pot-
tering aimlessly about his cottages, would raise his
head to see how they got on in their promenade.
He advertised still in the Sunday papers for
Harry Hagberd. These sheets were read in for-
eign parts to the end of the world, he informed Bes-
sie. At the same time he seemed to think that his
son was in England--so near to Colebrook that he
would of course turn up "to-morrow." Bessie,
without committing herself to that opinion in so
many words, argued that in that case the expense
of advertising was unnecessary; Captain Hagberd
had better spend that weekly half-crown on him-
self. She declared she did not know what he lived
on. Her argumentation would puzzle him and cast
him down for a time. "They all do it," he pointed
out. There was a whole columndevoted to appeals
after missing relatives. He would bring the news-
paper to show her. He and his wife had advertised
for years; only she was an impatient woman. The
news from Colebrook had arrived the very day after
her funeral; if she had not been so impatient she
might have been here now, with no more than one
day more to wait. "You are not an impatient
woman, my dear."
"I've no patience with you sometimes," she
would say.
If he still advertised for his son he did not offer
rewards for information any more; for, with the
muddled lucidity of a mental derangement he had
reasoned himself into a conviction as clear as day-
light that he had already attained all that could be
expected in that way. What more could he want?
Colebrook was the place, and there was no need to
ask for more. Miss Carvil praised him for his good
sense, and he was soothed by the part she took in
his hope, which had become his delusion; in that
idea which blinded his mind to truth and probabil-
ity, just as the other old man in the other cottage
had been made blind, by another disease, to the
light and beauty of the world.
But anything he could interpret as a doubt--
any coldness of assent, or even a simple inattention
to the development of his projects of a home with
his returned son and his son's wife--would irritate
him into flings and jerks and wicked side glances.
He would dash his spade into the ground and walk
to and fro before it. Miss Bessie called it his tan-
trums. She shook her finger at him. Then, when
she came out again, after he had parted with her
in anger, he would watch out of the corner of his
eyes for the least sign of encouragement to ap-
proach the iron railings and resume his fatherly
and patronising relations.
For all their intimacy, which had lasted some
years now, they had never talked without a fence
or a railing between them. He described to her all
the splendours accumulated for the setting-up of
their housekeeping, but had never invited her to an
inspection. No human eye was to behold them till
Harry had his first look. In fact, nobody had ever
been inside his cottage; he did his own housework,
and he guarded his son's privilege so jealously that
the small objects of domestic use he bought some-
times in the town were smuggled rapidly across the
front garden under his canvas coat. Then, coming
out, he would remark apologetically, "It was only
a small kettle, my dear."
And, if not too tired with her drudgery, or wor-
ried beyond endurance by her father, she would
laugh at him with a blush, and say: "That's all
right, Captain Hagberd; I am not impatient."
"Well, my dear, you haven't long to wait now,"
he would answer with a sudden bashfulness, and
looking uneasily, as though he had suspected that
there was something wrong somewhere.
Every Monday she paid him his rent over the
railings. He clutched the shillings greedily. He
grudged every penny he had to spend on his main-
tenance, and when he left her to make his purchases
his bearing changed as soon as he got into the
street. Away from the sanction of her pity, he felt
himself exposed without defence. He brushed the
walls with his shoulder. He mistrusted the queer-
ness of the people; yet, by then, even the town
children had left off calling after him, and the
tradesmen served him without a word. The slight-
est allusion to his clothing had the power to puzzle
and frighten especially, as if it were something
utterly unwarranted and incomprehensible.
In the autumn, the driving rain drummed on his
sailcloth suit saturated almost to the stiffness of
sheet-iron, with its surface flowing with water.
When the weather was too bad, he retreated under
the tiny porch, and, standing close against the
door, looked at his spade left planted in the middle
of the yard. The ground was so much dug up all
over, that as the season advanced it turned to a
quagmire. When it froze hard, he was disconso-
late. What would Harry say? And as he could
not have so much of Bessie's company at that time
of the year, the roars of old Carvil, that came muf-
fled through the closed windows, calling her in-
doors, exasperated him greatly.
"Why don't that extravagant fellow get you a
servant?" he asked impatiently one mild after-
noon. She had thrown something over her head to
run out for a while.
"I don't know," said the pale Bessie, wearily,
staring away with her heavy-lidded, grey, and un-
expectant glance. There were always smudgy
shadows under her eyes, and she did not seem able
to see any change or any end to her life.
"You wait till you get married, my dear," said
her only friend, drawing closer to the fence.
"Harry will get you one."
His hopeful craze seemed to mock her own want
of hope with so bitter an aptness that in her ner-
vous irritation she could have screamed at him out-
right. But she only said in self-mockery, and
speaking to him as though he had been sane,
"Why, Captain Hagberd, your son may not even
want to look at me."
He flung his head back and laughed his throaty
affected cackle of anger.
"What! That boy? Not want to look at the
only sensible girl for miles around? What do you
think I am here for, my dear--my dear--my dear?
. . . What? You wait. You just wait. You'll
see to-morrow. I'll soon--"
"Bessie! Bessie! Bessie!" howled old Carvil in-
side. "Bessie!--my pipe!" That fat blind man
had given himself up to a very lust of laziness. He
would not lift his hand to reach for the things she
took care to leave at his very elbow. He would not
move a limb; he would not rise from his chair, he
would not put one foot before another, in that par-
lour (where he knew his way as well as if he had his
sight), without calling her to his side and hanging
all his atrocious weight on her shoulder. He would
not eat one single mouthful of food without her
close attendance. He had made himself helpless
beyond his affliction, to enslave her better. She
stood still for a moment, setting her teeth in the
dusk, then turned and walked slowly indoors.
Captain Hagberd went back to his spade. The
shouting in Carvil's cottage stopped, and after a
while the window of the parlour downstairs was lit
up. A man coming from the end of the street with
a firm leisurely step passed on, but seemed to have
caught sight of Captain Hagberd, because he
turned back a pace or two. A cold white light lin-
gered in the western sky. The man leaned over the
gate in an interested manner.
"You must be Captain Hagberd," he said, with
easy assurance.
The old man spun round, pulling out his spade,
startled by the strange voice.
"Yes, I am," he answered nervously.
The other, smiling straight at him, uttered very
slowly: "You've been advertising for your son, I
believe?"
"My son Harry," mumbled Captain Hagberd,
off his guard for once. "He's coming home to-
morrow."
"The devil he is!" The stranger marvelled
greatly, and then went on, with only a slight
Bessie, absorbed in her knitting, coloured faintly.
"Bessie! my hat!" old Carvil bellowed out sud-
denly. He had been sitting under the tree mute
and motionless, like an idol of some remarkably
monstrous superstition. He never opened his
mouth but to howl for her, at her, sometimes about
her; and then he did not moderate the terms of his
abuse. Her system was never to answer him at all;
and he kept up his shouting till he got attended to
--till she shook him by the arm, or thrust the
mouthpiece of his pipe between his teeth. He was
one of the few blind people who smoke. When he
felt the hat being put on his head he stopped his
noise at once. Then he rose, and they passed to-
gether through the gate.
He weighed heavily on her arm. During their
slow, toilful walks she appeared to be dragging
with her for a penance the burden of that infirm
bulk. Usually they crossed the road at once (the
cottages stood in the fields near the harbour, two
hundred yards away from the end of the street),
and for a long, long time they would remain in
view, ascending imperceptibly the flight of wooden
steps that led to the top of the sea-wall. It ran
on from east to west, shutting out the Channel like
a neglected railway embankment, on which no train
had ever rolled within memory of man. Groups
of sturdy fishermen would emerge upon the sky,
walk along for a bit, and sink without haste. Their
brown nets, like the cobwebs of gigantic spiders,
lay on the shabby grass of the slope; and, looking
up from the end of the street, the people of the
town would recognise the two Carvils by the creep-
ing slowness of their gait. Captain Hagberd, pot-
tering aimlessly about his cottages, would raise his
head to see how they got on in their promenade.
He advertised still in the Sunday papers for
Harry Hagberd. These sheets were read in for-
eign parts to the end of the world, he informed Bes-
sie. At the same time he seemed to think that his
son was in England--so near to Colebrook that he
would of course turn up "to-morrow." Bessie,
without committing herself to that opinion in so
many words, argued that in that case the expense
of advertising was unnecessary; Captain Hagberd
had better spend that weekly half-crown on him-
self. She declared she did not know what he lived
on. Her argumentation would puzzle him and cast
him down for a time. "They all do it," he pointed
out. There was a whole columndevoted to appeals
after missing relatives. He would bring the news-
paper to show her. He and his wife had advertised
for years; only she was an impatient woman. The
news from Colebrook had arrived the very day after
her funeral; if she had not been so impatient she
might have been here now, with no more than one
day more to wait. "You are not an impatient
woman, my dear."
"I've no patience with you sometimes," she
would say.
If he still advertised for his son he did not offer
rewards for information any more; for, with the
muddled lucidity of a mental derangement he had
reasoned himself into a conviction as clear as day-
light that he had already attained all that could be
expected in that way. What more could he want?
Colebrook was the place, and there was no need to
ask for more. Miss Carvil praised him for his good
sense, and he was soothed by the part she took in
his hope, which had become his delusion; in that
idea which blinded his mind to truth and probabil-
ity, just as the other old man in the other cottage
had been made blind, by another disease, to the
light and beauty of the world.
But anything he could interpret as a doubt--
any coldness of assent, or even a simple inattention
to the development of his projects of a home with
his returned son and his son's wife--would irritate
him into flings and jerks and wicked side glances.
He would dash his spade into the ground and walk
to and fro before it. Miss Bessie called it his tan-
trums. She shook her finger at him. Then, when
she came out again, after he had parted with her
in anger, he would watch out of the corner of his
eyes for the least sign of encouragement to ap-
proach the iron railings and resume his fatherly
and patronising relations.
For all their intimacy, which had lasted some
years now, they had never talked without a fence
or a railing between them. He described to her all
the splendours accumulated for the setting-up of
their housekeeping, but had never invited her to an
inspection. No human eye was to behold them till
Harry had his first look. In fact, nobody had ever
been inside his cottage; he did his own housework,
and he guarded his son's privilege so jealously that
the small objects of domestic use he bought some-
times in the town were smuggled rapidly across the
front garden under his canvas coat. Then, coming
out, he would remark apologetically, "It was only
a small kettle, my dear."
And, if not too tired with her drudgery, or wor-
ried beyond endurance by her father, she would
laugh at him with a blush, and say: "That's all
right, Captain Hagberd; I am not impatient."
"Well, my dear, you haven't long to wait now,"
he would answer with a sudden bashfulness, and
looking uneasily, as though he had suspected that
there was something wrong somewhere.
Every Monday she paid him his rent over the
railings. He clutched the shillings greedily. He
grudged every penny he had to spend on his main-
tenance, and when he left her to make his purchases
his bearing changed as soon as he got into the
street. Away from the sanction of her pity, he felt
himself exposed without defence. He brushed the
walls with his shoulder. He mistrusted the queer-
ness of the people; yet, by then, even the town
children had left off calling after him, and the
tradesmen served him without a word. The slight-
est allusion to his clothing had the power to puzzle
and frighten especially, as if it were something
utterly unwarranted and incomprehensible.
In the autumn, the driving rain drummed on his
sailcloth suit saturated almost to the stiffness of
sheet-iron, with its surface flowing with water.
When the weather was too bad, he retreated under
the tiny porch, and, standing close against the
door, looked at his spade left planted in the middle
of the yard. The ground was so much dug up all
over, that as the season advanced it turned to a
quagmire. When it froze hard, he was disconso-
late. What would Harry say? And as he could
not have so much of Bessie's company at that time
of the year, the roars of old Carvil, that came muf-
fled through the closed windows, calling her in-
doors, exasperated him greatly.
"Why don't that extravagant fellow get you a
servant?" he asked impatiently one mild after-
noon. She had thrown something over her head to
run out for a while.
"I don't know," said the pale Bessie, wearily,
staring away with her heavy-lidded, grey, and un-
expectant glance. There were always smudgy
shadows under her eyes, and she did not seem able
to see any change or any end to her life.
"You wait till you get married, my dear," said
her only friend, drawing closer to the fence.
"Harry will get you one."
His hopeful craze seemed to mock her own want
of hope with so bitter an aptness that in her ner-
vous irritation she could have screamed at him out-
right. But she only said in self-mockery, and
speaking to him as though he had been sane,
"Why, Captain Hagberd, your son may not even
want to look at me."
He flung his head back and laughed his throaty
affected cackle of anger.
"What! That boy? Not want to look at the
only sensible girl for miles around? What do you
think I am here for, my dear--my dear--my dear?
. . . What? You wait. You just wait. You'll
see to-morrow. I'll soon--"
"Bessie! Bessie! Bessie!" howled old Carvil in-
side. "Bessie!--my pipe!" That fat blind man
had given himself up to a very lust of laziness. He
would not lift his hand to reach for the things she
took care to leave at his very elbow. He would not
move a limb; he would not rise from his chair, he
would not put one foot before another, in that par-
lour (where he knew his way as well as if he had his
sight), without calling her to his side and hanging
all his atrocious weight on her shoulder. He would
not eat one single mouthful of food without her
close attendance. He had made himself helpless
beyond his affliction, to enslave her better. She
stood still for a moment, setting her teeth in the
dusk, then turned and walked slowly indoors.
Captain Hagberd went back to his spade. The
shouting in Carvil's cottage stopped, and after a
while the window of the parlour downstairs was lit
up. A man coming from the end of the street with
a firm leisurely step passed on, but seemed to have
caught sight of Captain Hagberd, because he
turned back a pace or two. A cold white light lin-
gered in the western sky. The man leaned over the
gate in an interested manner.
"You must be Captain Hagberd," he said, with
easy assurance.
The old man spun round, pulling out his spade,
startled by the strange voice.
"Yes, I am," he answered nervously.
The other, smiling straight at him, uttered very
slowly: "You've been advertising for your son, I
believe?"
"My son Harry," mumbled Captain Hagberd,
off his guard for once. "He's coming home to-
morrow."
"The devil he is!" The stranger marvelled
greatly, and then went on, with only a slight
- knitting [´nitiŋ]
n.编织(物)；接合；联合 (初中英语单词) - moderate [´mɔdərit] a.适度的n.温和主义者 (初中英语单词)
- system [´sistəm] n.系统，体系，制度 (初中英语单词)
- thrust [θrʌst] v.&n.猛推；冲；刺；挤进 (初中英语单词)
- flight [flait] n.逃走；飞行；班机 (初中英语单词)
- channel [´tʃænəl] n.海峡；航道；途径 (初中英语单词)
- emerge [i´mə:dʒ] vi.出现；显露；暴露 (初中英语单词)
- advertising [´ædvətaiziŋ] n.广告a.广告的 (初中英语单词)
- weekly [´wi:kli] a.&ad.每周一次(的) (初中英语单词)
- puzzle [´pʌzl] n.迷(惑) v.(使)迷惑 (初中英语单词)
- column [´kɔləm] n.柱；柱状物；纵队 (初中英语单词)
- missing [´misiŋ] a.缺掉的；失踪的 (初中英语单词)
- funeral [´fju:nərəl] n.葬礼，丧葬；困难 (初中英语单词)
- patience [´peiʃəns] n.忍耐(力)；耐心；坚韧 (初中英语单词)
- mental [´mentl] a.精神的；心理的 (初中英语单词)
- conviction [kən´vikʃən] n.定罪；确信，信服 (初中英语单词)
- coldness [´kəuldnis] n.寒冷；冷淡 (初中英语单词)
- wicked [´wikid] a.邪恶的；不道德的 (初中英语单词)
- cottage [´kɔtidʒ] n.村舍；小屋；小别墅 (初中英语单词)
- privilege [´privilidʒ] n.特权 vt.给....特权 (初中英语单词)
- domestic [də´mestik] a.家庭的；本国的 (初中英语单词)
- canvas [´kænvəs] n.帆布；油画(布) (初中英语单词)
- kettle [´ketl] n.水壶 (初中英语单词)
- greedily [´gri:dili] ad.贪婪地 (初中英语单词)
- frighten [´fraitn] vt.吓唬，使惊惧 (初中英语单词)
- standing [´stændiŋ] n.持续 a.直立的 (初中英语单词)
- advanced [əd´vɑ:nst] a.先进的；高级的 (初中英语单词)
- sensible [´sensəbəl] a.感觉得到的 (初中英语单词)
- downstairs [,daun´steəz] ad.在楼下 a.楼下的 (初中英语单词)
- western [´westən] a.西的；西方的 (初中英语单词)
- motionless [´məuʃənləs] a.静止的；固定的 (高中英语单词)
- superstition [,su:pə´stiʃən, ,sju:-] n.迷信(行为) (高中英语单词)
- sturdy [´stə:di] a.坚强的；坚定的 (高中英语单词)
- gigantic [dʒai´gæntik] a.巨大的 (高中英语单词)
- shabby [´ʃæbi] a.(衣服)破旧的 (高中英语单词)
- impatient [im´peiʃənt] a.不耐烦的，急躁的 (高中英语单词)
- assent [ə´sent] vi.&n.同意，赞成 (高中英语单词)
- encouragement [in´kʌridʒmənt] n.鼓励；赞助；引诱 (高中英语单词)
- endurance [in´djuərəns] n.忍受(耐)；耐力 (高中英语单词)
- bearing [´beəriŋ] n.举止；忍耐；关系 (高中英语单词)
- sanction [´sæŋkʃən] n.&vt.批准；认可 (高中英语单词)
- extravagant [ik´strævəgənt] a.奢侈的；过度的 (高中英语单词)
- devoted [di´vəutid] a.献身...的，忠实的 (英语四级单词)
- intimacy [´intiməsi] n.亲密；熟悉；秘密 (英语四级单词)
- railing [´reiliŋ] n.栏杆 (英语四级单词)
- allusion [ə´lu:ʒən] n.暗指；提及；引喻 (英语四级单词)
- impatiently [im´peiʃəntli] ad.不耐烦地，急躁地 (英语四级单词)
- drawing [´drɔ:iŋ] n.画图；制图；图样 (英语四级单词)
- hopeful [´həupfəl] a.有希望的，激励人的 (英语四级单词)
- mouthful [´mauθful] n.一口；少量 (英语四级单词)
- setting [´setiŋ] n.安装；排字；布景 (英语四级单词)
- leisurely [´leʒəli] a.从容地，慢慢地 (英语四级单词)
- penance [´penəns] n.悔过；(赎罪的)苦行 (英语六级单词)
- delusion [di´lu:ʒən] n.欺骗；幻觉；迷惑 (英语六级单词)
- housekeeping [´haus,ki:piŋ] n.家务管理，家政 (英语六级单词)
- drudgery [´drʌdʒəri] n.苦工；苦役 (英语六级单词)
- uneasily [ʌn´i:zili] ad.不安地；局促地 (英语六级单词)
- calling [´kɔ:liŋ] n.点名；职业；欲望 (英语六级单词)
- irritation [,iri´teiʃən] n.(被)激怒；疼痛处 (英语六级单词)
- cackle [´kækəl] vi.咯咯叫 n.咯咯叫声 (英语六级单词)
- affliction [ə´flikʃən] n.痛苦，苦恼；折磨 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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