章节正文
change of tone: "You've grown a beard like
Father Christmas himself."
Captain Hagberd drew a little nearer, and
leaned forward over his spade. "Go your way,"
he said, resentfully and timidly at the same time,
because he was always afraid of being laughed at.
Every mental state, even madness, has its equi-
librium based upon self-esteem. Its disturbance
causes unhappiness; and Captain Hagberd lived
amongst a scheme of settled notions which it pained
him to feel disturbed by people's grins. Yes, peo-
ple's grins were awful. They hinted at something
wrong: but what? He could not tell; and that
stranger was obviously grinning--had come on
purpose to grin. It was bad enough on the streets,
but he had never before been outraged like this.
The stranger, unaware how near he was of hav-
ing his head laid open with a spade, said seriously:
"I am not trespassing where I stand, am I? I
fancy there's something wrong about your news.
Suppose you let me come in."
"YOU come in!" murmured old Hagberd, with
inexpressible horror.
"I could give you some real information about
your son--the very latest tip, if you care to
hear."
"No," shouted Hagberd. He began to pace
wildly to and fro, he shouldered his spade, he ges-
ticulated with his other arm. "Here's a fellow--
a grinning fellow, who says there's something
wrong. I've got more information than you're
aware of. I've all the information I want. I've
had it for years--for years--for years--enough
to last me till to-morrow. Let you come in, indeed!
What would Harry say?"
Bessie Carvil's figure appeared in black silhou-
ette on the parlour window; then, with the sound of
an opening door, flitted out before the other cot-
tage, all black, but with something white over
her head. These two voices beginning to talk sud-
denly outside (she had heard them indoors) had
given her such an emotion that she could not utter
a sound.
Captain Hagberd seemed to be trying to find his
way out of a cage. His feet squelched in the pud-
dles left by his industry. He stumbled in the holes
of the ruined grass-plot. He ran blindly against
the fence.
"Here, steady a bit!" said the man at the gate,
gravely stretching his arm over and catching him
by the sleeve. "Somebody's been trying to get at
you. Hallo! what's this rig you've got on? Storm
canvas, by George!" He had a big laugh.
"Well, you ARE a character!"
Captain Hagberd jerked himself free, and began
to back away shrinkingly. "For the present," he
muttered, in a crestfallen tone.
"What's the matter with him?" The stranger
addressed Bessie with the utmostfamiliarity, in a
deliberate, explanatory tone. "I didn't want to
startle the old man." He lowered his voice as
though he had known her for years. "I dropped
into a barber's on my way, to get a twopenny
shave, and they told me there he was something of
a character. The old man has been a character all
his life."
Captain Hagberd, daunted by the allusion to his
clothing, had retreated inside, taking his spade
with him; and the two at the gate, startled by the
unexpected slamming of the door, heard the bolts
being shot, the snapping of the lock, and the echo
of an affected gurgling laugh within.
"I didn't want to upset him," the man said,
after a short silence. "What's the meaning of all
this? He isn't quite crazy."
"He has been worrying a long time about his
lost son," said Bessie, in a low, apologetic tone.
"Well, I am his son."
"Harry!" she cried--and was profoundly si-
lent.
"Know my name? Friends with the old man,
eh?"
"He's our landlord," Bessie faltered out, catch-
ing hold of the iron railing.
"Owns both them rabbit-hutches, does he?"
commented young Hagberd, scornfully; "just the
thing he would be proud of. Can you tell me who's
that chap coming to-morrow? You must know
something of it. I tell you, it's a swindle on the old
man--nothing else."
She did not answer, helpless before an insur-
mountable difficulty, appalled before the necessity,
the impossibility and the dread of an explanation
in which she and madness seemed involved together.
"Oh--I am so sorry," she murmured.
"What's the matter?" he said, with serenity.
"You needn't be afraid of upsetting me. It's the
other fellow that'll be upset when he least expects
it. I don't care a hang; but there will be some fun
when he shows his mug to-morrow. I don't care
THAT for the old man's pieces, but right is right.
You shall see me put a head on that coon--whoever
he is!"
He had come nearer, and towered above her on
the other side of the railings. He glanced at her
hands. He fancied she was trembling, and it oc-
curred to him that she had her part perhaps in that
little game that was to be sprung on his old man
to-morrow. He had come just in time to spoil their
sport. He was entertained by the idea--scornful
of the baffled plot. But all his life he had been full
of indulgence for all sorts of women's tricks. She
really was trembling very much; her wrap had
slipped off her head. "Poor devil!" he thought.
"Never mind about that chap. I daresay he'll
change his mind before to-morrow. But what
about me? I can't loaf about the gate til the morn-
ing."
She burst out: "It is YOU--you yourself that he's
waiting for. It is YOU who come to-morrow."
He murmured. "Oh! It's me!" blankly, and
they seemed to become breathless" target="_blank" title="a.屏息的">breathless together. Ap-
parently he was pondering over what he had heard;
then, without irritation, but evidently perplexed,
he said: "I don't understand. I hadn't written or
anything. It's my chum who saw the paper and
told me--this very morning. . . . Eh? what?"
He bent his ear; she whispered rapidly, and he
listened for a while, muttering the words "yes"
and "I see" at times. Then, "But why won't to-
day do?" he queried at last.
"You didn't understand me!" she exclaimed,
impatiently. The clear streak of light under the
clouds died out in the west. Again he stooped
slightly to hear better; and the deep night buried
everything of the whispering woman and the
attentive man, except the familiar contiguity of
their faces, with its air of secrecy and caress.
He squared his shoulders; the broad-brimmed
shadow of a hat sat cavalierly on his head. "Awk-
ward this, eh?" he appealed to her. "To-morrow?
Well, well! Never heard tell of anything like this.
It's all to-morrow, then, without any sort of to-day,
as far as I can see."
She remained still and mute.
"And you have been encouraging this funny
notion," he said.
"I never contradicted him."
"Why didn't you?"
"What for should I?" she defended herself.
"It would only have made him miserable. He
would have gone out of his mind."
"His mind!" he muttered, and heard a short
nervous laugh from her.
"Where was the harm? Was I to quarrel with
the poor old man? It was easier to half believe it
myself."
"Aye, aye," he meditated, intelligently. "I
suppose the old chap got around you somehow with
his soft talk. You are good-hearted."
Her hands moved up in the dark nervously.
"And it might have been true. It was true. It
has come. Here it is. This is the to-morrow we
have been waiting for."
She drew a breath, and he said, good-humour-
edly: "Aye, with the door shut. I wouldn't care
if . . . And you think he could be brought round
to recognise me . . . Eh? What? . . . You
could do it? In a week you say? H'm, I daresay
you could--but do you think I could hold out a
week in this dead-alive place? Not me! I want
either hard work, or an all-fired racket, or more
space than there is in the whole of England. I
have been in this place, though, once before, and for
more than a week. The old man was advertising
for me then, and a chum I had with me had a no-
tion of getting a couple quid out of him by writ-
ing a lot of silly nonsense in a letter. That lark did
not come off, though. We had to clear out--and
none too soon. But this time I've a chum waiting
for me in London, and besides . . ."
Bessie Carvil was breathing quickly.
"What if I tried a knock at the door?" he sug-
gested.
"Try," she said.
Captain Hagberd's gate squeaked, and the shad-
ow of the son moved on, then stopped with another
deep laugh in the throat, like the father's, only
soft and gentle, thrilling to the woman's heart,
awakening to her ears.
"He isn't frisky--is he? I would be afraid to
lay hold of him. The chaps are always telling me
I don't know my own strength."
"He's the most harmless creature that ever
lived," she interrupted.
"You wouldn't say so if you had seen him chas-
ing me upstairs with a hard leather strap," he said;
"I haven't forgotten it in sixteen years."
She got warm from head to foot under another
soft, subdued laugh. At the rat-tat-tat of the
knocker her heart flew into her mouth.
Father Christmas himself."
Captain Hagberd drew a little nearer, and
leaned forward over his spade. "Go your way,"
he said, resentfully and timidly at the same time,
because he was always afraid of being laughed at.
Every mental state, even madness, has its equi-
librium based upon self-esteem. Its disturbance
causes unhappiness; and Captain Hagberd lived
amongst a scheme of settled notions which it pained
him to feel disturbed by people's grins. Yes, peo-
ple's grins were awful. They hinted at something
wrong: but what? He could not tell; and that
stranger was obviously grinning--had come on
purpose to grin. It was bad enough on the streets,
but he had never before been outraged like this.
The stranger, unaware how near he was of hav-
ing his head laid open with a spade, said seriously:
"I am not trespassing where I stand, am I? I
fancy there's something wrong about your news.
Suppose you let me come in."
"YOU come in!" murmured old Hagberd, with
inexpressible horror.
"I could give you some real information about
your son--the very latest tip, if you care to
hear."
"No," shouted Hagberd. He began to pace
wildly to and fro, he shouldered his spade, he ges-
ticulated with his other arm. "Here's a fellow--
a grinning fellow, who says there's something
wrong. I've got more information than you're
aware of. I've all the information I want. I've
had it for years--for years--for years--enough
to last me till to-morrow. Let you come in, indeed!
What would Harry say?"
Bessie Carvil's figure appeared in black silhou-
ette on the parlour window; then, with the sound of
an opening door, flitted out before the other cot-
tage, all black, but with something white over
her head. These two voices beginning to talk sud-
denly outside (she had heard them indoors) had
given her such an emotion that she could not utter
a sound.
Captain Hagberd seemed to be trying to find his
way out of a cage. His feet squelched in the pud-
dles left by his industry. He stumbled in the holes
of the ruined grass-plot. He ran blindly against
the fence.
"Here, steady a bit!" said the man at the gate,
gravely stretching his arm over and catching him
by the sleeve. "Somebody's been trying to get at
you. Hallo! what's this rig you've got on? Storm
canvas, by George!" He had a big laugh.
"Well, you ARE a character!"
Captain Hagberd jerked himself free, and began
to back away shrinkingly. "For the present," he
muttered, in a crestfallen tone.
"What's the matter with him?" The stranger
addressed Bessie with the utmostfamiliarity, in a
deliberate, explanatory tone. "I didn't want to
startle the old man." He lowered his voice as
though he had known her for years. "I dropped
into a barber's on my way, to get a twopenny
shave, and they told me there he was something of
a character. The old man has been a character all
his life."
Captain Hagberd, daunted by the allusion to his
clothing, had retreated inside, taking his spade
with him; and the two at the gate, startled by the
unexpected slamming of the door, heard the bolts
being shot, the snapping of the lock, and the echo
of an affected gurgling laugh within.
"I didn't want to upset him," the man said,
after a short silence. "What's the meaning of all
this? He isn't quite crazy."
"He has been worrying a long time about his
lost son," said Bessie, in a low, apologetic tone.
"Well, I am his son."
"Harry!" she cried--and was profoundly si-
lent.
"Know my name? Friends with the old man,
eh?"
"He's our landlord," Bessie faltered out, catch-
ing hold of the iron railing.
"Owns both them rabbit-hutches, does he?"
commented young Hagberd, scornfully; "just the
thing he would be proud of. Can you tell me who's
that chap coming to-morrow? You must know
something of it. I tell you, it's a swindle on the old
man--nothing else."
She did not answer, helpless before an insur-
mountable difficulty, appalled before the necessity,
the impossibility and the dread of an explanation
in which she and madness seemed involved together.
"Oh--I am so sorry," she murmured.
"What's the matter?" he said, with serenity.
"You needn't be afraid of upsetting me. It's the
other fellow that'll be upset when he least expects
it. I don't care a hang; but there will be some fun
when he shows his mug to-morrow. I don't care
THAT for the old man's pieces, but right is right.
You shall see me put a head on that coon--whoever
he is!"
He had come nearer, and towered above her on
the other side of the railings. He glanced at her
hands. He fancied she was trembling, and it oc-
curred to him that she had her part perhaps in that
little game that was to be sprung on his old man
to-morrow. He had come just in time to spoil their
sport. He was entertained by the idea--scornful
of the baffled plot. But all his life he had been full
of indulgence for all sorts of women's tricks. She
really was trembling very much; her wrap had
slipped off her head. "Poor devil!" he thought.
"Never mind about that chap. I daresay he'll
change his mind before to-morrow. But what
about me? I can't loaf about the gate til the morn-
ing."
She burst out: "It is YOU--you yourself that he's
waiting for. It is YOU who come to-morrow."
He murmured. "Oh! It's me!" blankly, and
they seemed to become breathless" target="_blank" title="a.屏息的">breathless together. Ap-
parently he was pondering over what he had heard;
then, without irritation, but evidently perplexed,
he said: "I don't understand. I hadn't written or
anything. It's my chum who saw the paper and
told me--this very morning. . . . Eh? what?"
He bent his ear; she whispered rapidly, and he
listened for a while, muttering the words "yes"
and "I see" at times. Then, "But why won't to-
day do?" he queried at last.
"You didn't understand me!" she exclaimed,
impatiently. The clear streak of light under the
clouds died out in the west. Again he stooped
slightly to hear better; and the deep night buried
everything of the whispering woman and the
attentive man, except the familiar contiguity of
their faces, with its air of secrecy and caress.
He squared his shoulders; the broad-brimmed
shadow of a hat sat cavalierly on his head. "Awk-
ward this, eh?" he appealed to her. "To-morrow?
Well, well! Never heard tell of anything like this.
It's all to-morrow, then, without any sort of to-day,
as far as I can see."
She remained still and mute.
"And you have been encouraging this funny
notion," he said.
"I never contradicted him."
"Why didn't you?"
"What for should I?" she defended herself.
"It would only have made him miserable. He
would have gone out of his mind."
"His mind!" he muttered, and heard a short
nervous laugh from her.
"Where was the harm? Was I to quarrel with
the poor old man? It was easier to half believe it
myself."
"Aye, aye," he meditated, intelligently. "I
suppose the old chap got around you somehow with
his soft talk. You are good-hearted."
Her hands moved up in the dark nervously.
"And it might have been true. It was true. It
has come. Here it is. This is the to-morrow we
have been waiting for."
She drew a breath, and he said, good-humour-
edly: "Aye, with the door shut. I wouldn't care
if . . . And you think he could be brought round
to recognise me . . . Eh? What? . . . You
could do it? In a week you say? H'm, I daresay
you could--but do you think I could hold out a
week in this dead-alive place? Not me! I want
either hard work, or an all-fired racket, or more
space than there is in the whole of England. I
have been in this place, though, once before, and for
more than a week. The old man was advertising
for me then, and a chum I had with me had a no-
tion of getting a couple quid out of him by writ-
ing a lot of silly nonsense in a letter. That lark did
not come off, though. We had to clear out--and
none too soon. But this time I've a chum waiting
for me in London, and besides . . ."
Bessie Carvil was breathing quickly.
"What if I tried a knock at the door?" he sug-
gested.
"Try," she said.
Captain Hagberd's gate squeaked, and the shad-
ow of the son moved on, then stopped with another
deep laugh in the throat, like the father's, only
soft and gentle, thrilling to the woman's heart,
awakening to her ears.
"He isn't frisky--is he? I would be afraid to
lay hold of him. The chaps are always telling me
I don't know my own strength."
"He's the most harmless creature that ever
lived," she interrupted.
"You wouldn't say so if you had seen him chas-
ing me upstairs with a hard leather strap," he said;
"I haven't forgotten it in sixteen years."
She got warm from head to foot under another
soft, subdued laugh. At the rat-tat-tat of the
knocker her heart flew into her mouth.
- mental [´mentl]
a.精神的；心理的 (初中英语单词) - scheme [ski:m] n.计划；阴谋，诡计 (初中英语单词)
- obviously [´ɔbviəsli] ad.明显地；显而易见地 (初中英语单词)
- opening [´əupəniŋ] n.开放；开端 a.开始的 (初中英语单词)
- beginning [bi´giniŋ] n.开始，开端；起源 (初中英语单词)
- emotion [i´məuʃən] n.感情；情绪；激动 (初中英语单词)
- sleeve [sli:v] n.袖子；袖套 (初中英语单词)
- utmost [´ʌtməust] a.最大的 n.极端 (初中英语单词)
- character [´kæriktə] n.特性；性质；人物；字 (初中英语单词)
- helpless [´helpləs] a.无助的，无依靠的 (初中英语单词)
- evidently [´evidəntli] ad.明显地 (初中英语单词)
- miserable [´mizərəbəl] a.悲惨的；可怜的 (初中英语单词)
- intelligently [in´telidʒəntli] ad.聪明地；理智地 (初中英语单词)
- waiting [´weitiŋ] n.等候；伺候 (初中英语单词)
- breath [breθ] n.呼吸；气息 (初中英语单词)
- throat [θrəut] n.咽喉；嗓子；出入口 (初中英语单词)
- madness [´mædnis] n.疯狂；狂热 (高中英语单词)
- sprung [sprʌŋ] spring的过去分词 (高中英语单词)
- breathless [´breθlis] a.屏息的 (高中英语单词)
- streak [stri:k] n.纹理 v.用线条(条纹) (高中英语单词)
- racket [´rækit] n.(网球等的)拍；球拍 (高中英语单词)
- nonsense [´nɔnsəns] n.胡说 int.胡说!废话 (高中英语单词)
- harmless [´hɑ:mləs] a.无害的，无恶意的 (高中英语单词)
- unaware [,ʌnə´weə] a.不知道的；不觉察的 (英语四级单词)
- trying [´traiiŋ] a.难堪的；费劲的 (英语四级单词)
- blindly [blaindli] ad.盲目地；没头脑地 (英语四级单词)
- allusion [ə´lu:ʒən] n.暗指；提及；引喻 (英语四级单词)
- profoundly [prə´faundli] ad.深深地 (英语四级单词)
- indulgence [in´dʌldʒəns] n.沉迷；宽容；恩惠 (英语四级单词)
- secrecy [´si:krəsi] n.保密；秘密 (英语四级单词)
- upstairs [,ʌp´steəz] ad.在楼上 a.楼上的 (英语四级单词)
- timidly [´timidli] ad.胆怯地 (英语六级单词)
- familiarity [fə,mili´æriti] n.熟悉；新近；随便 (英语六级单词)
- taking [´teikiŋ] a.迷人的 n.捕获物 (英语六级单词)
- affected [ə´fektid] a.做作的；假装的 (英语六级单词)
- impossibility [impɔsi´biliti] n.不可能办到的事 (英语六级单词)
- irritation [,iri´teiʃən] n.(被)激怒；疼痛处 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
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