酷兔英语
    当前位置:
  1. 首页
  2. 文章
  3. 娱乐英语
  4. 原版小说
  5. 正文

New Arabian Nights-Part7_ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON(1850-1894)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

0 收藏 0 分享 0 赞

章节正文
文章总共2页


together with a suppressed scream.

"Heavens!" she cried, "is it so late? I have not an instant to



lose. Alas, we poor women, what slaves we are! What have I not

risked for you already?"



And after repeating her directions, which she artfully combined

with caresses and the most abandoned looks, she bade him farewell



and disappeared among the crowd.

The whole of the next day Silas was filled with a sense of great



importance; he was now sure she was a countess; and when evening

came he minutely obeyed her orders and was at the corner of the



Luxembourg Gardens by the hour appointed. No one was there. He

waited nearly half-an-hour, looking in the face of every one who



passed or loitered near the spot; he even visited the neighbouring

corners of the Boulevard and made a complete circuit of the garden



railings; but there was no beautiful countess to throw herself into

his arms. At last, and most reluctantly, he began to retrace his



steps towards his hotel. On the way he remembered the words he had

heard pass between Madame Zephyrine and the blond young man, and



they gave him an indefinite uneasiness.

"It appears," he reflected, "that every one has to tell lies to our



porter."

He rang the bell, the door opened before him, and the porter in his



bed-clothes came to offer him a light.

"Has he gone?" inquired the porter.



"He? Whom do you mean?" asked Silas, somewhat sharply, for he was

irritated by his disappointment.



"I did not notice him go out," continued the porter, "but I trust

you paid him. We do not care, in this house, to have lodgers who



cannot meet their liabilities."

"What the devil do you mean?" demanded Silas rudely. "I cannot



understand a word of this farrago."

"The short blond young man who came for his debt," returned the



other. "Him it is I mean. Who else should it be, when I had your

orders to admit no one else?"



"Why, good God, of course he never came," retorted Silas.

"I believe what I believe," returned the porter, putting his tongue



into his cheek with a most roguish air.

"You are an insolent scoundrel," cried Silas, and, feeling that he



had made a ridiculousexhibition of asperity, and at the same time

bewildered by a dozen alarms, he turned and began to run upstairs.



"Do you not want a light then?" cried the porter.

But Silas only hurried the faster, and did not pause until he had



reached the seventh landing and stood in front of his own door.

There he waited a moment to recover his breath, assailed by the



worst forebodings and almost dreading to enter the room.

When at last he did so he was relieved to find it dark, and to all



appearance, untenanted. He drew a long breath. Here he was, home

again in safety, and this should be his last folly as certainly as



it had been his first. The matches stood on a little table by the

bed, and he began to grope his way in that direction. As he moved,



his apprehensions grew upon him once more, and he was pleased, when

his foot encountered an obstacle, to find it nothing more alarming



than a chair. At last he touched curtains. From the position of

the window, which was faintlyvisible, he knew he must be at the



foot of the bed, and had only to feel his way along it in order to

reach the table in question.



He lowered his hand, but what it touched was not simply a

counterpane - it was a counterpane with something underneath it



like the outline of a human leg. Silas withdrew his arm and stood

a moment petrified.



"What, what," he thought, "can this betoken?"

He listened intently, but there was no sound of breathing. Once



more, with a great effort, he reached out the end of his finger to

the spot he had already touched; but this time he leaped back half



a yard, and stood shivering and fixed with terror. There was

something in his bed. What it was he knew not, but there was



something there.

It was some seconds before he could move. Then, guided by an



instinct, he fell straight upon the matches, and keeping his back

towards the bed lighted a candle. As soon as the flame had



kindled, he turned slowly round and looked for what he feared to

see. Sure enough, there was the worst of his imaginations



realised. The coverlid was drawn carefully up over the pillow, but

it moulded the outline of a human body lying motionless; and when



he dashed forward and flung aside the sheets, he beheld the blond

young man whom he had seen in the Bullier Ball the night before,






文章总共2页
文章标签:名著  

章节正文
Copyright © 2023 Qeto All rights reserved.
商务合作 | 联系我们 | 关于我们 | 版权声明 | 隐私条款 | 如果智培

京ICP备05059198号-1 京公网安备 11011202003401号