Лучшие повести британских и американских писателей / Best Short Novels by British & American Authors. Коллектив авторов
Читать онлайн книгу.
or die?’ She squeezed my hands gently as she put the question: her eyes searched mine with а languid, lingering look in them that ran through me like fire. My voice died away on my lips; I couldn’t answer her.
She understood, without my answering. ‘You have given me а fancy for living, by speaking kindly to me,’ she said. ‘Kindness has а wonderful effect on women, and dogs, and other domestic animals. It is only men who are superior to kindness. Make your mind easy – I promise to take as much care of myself as if I was the happiest woman living! Don’t let me keep you here, out of your bed. Which way are you going?’
Miserable wretch that I was, I had forgotten my mother – with the medicine in my hand! ‘I am going home,’ I said. ‘Where are you staying? At the inn?’
She laughed her bitter laugh, and pointed to the stone quarry. ‘There is my inn for to-night,’ she said. ‘When I got tired of walking about, I rested there.’
We walked on together, on my way home. I took the liberty of asking her if she had any friends.
‘I thought I had one friend left,’ she said, ‘or you would never have met me in this place. It turns out I was wrong. My friend’s door was closed in my face some hours since; my friend’s servants threatened me with the police. I had nowhere else to go, after trying my luck in your neighborhood; and nothing left but my two-shilling piece and these rags on my back. What respectable innkeeper would take me into his house? I walked about, wondering how I could find my way out of the world without disfiguring myself, and without suffering much pain. You have no river in these parts. I didn’t see my way out of the world, till I heard you ringing at the doctor’s house. I got а glimpse at the bottles in the surgery, when he let you in, and I thought of the laudanum directly. What were you doing there? Who is that medicine for? Your wife?’
‘I am not married!’
She laughed again. ‘Not married! If I was а little better dressed there might be а chance for ME. Where do you live? Here?’
We had arrived, by this time, at my mother’s door. She held out her hand to say good-by. Houseless and homeless as she was, she never asked me to give her а shelter for the night. It was my proposal that she should rest, under my roof, unknown to my mother and my aunt. Our kitchen was built out at the back of the cottage: she might remain there unseen and unheard until the household was astir in the morning. I led her into the kitchen, and set а chair for her by the dying embers of the fire. I dare say I was to blame – shamefully to blame, if you like. I only wonder what you would have done in my place. On your word of honor as а man, would you have let that beautiful creature wander back to the shelter of the stone quarry like а stray dog? God help the woman who is foolish enough to trust and love you, if you would have done that!
I left her by the fire, and went to my mother’s room.
IX
If you have ever felt the heartache, you will know what I suffered in secret when my mother took my hand, and said, ‘I am sorry, Francis, that your night’s rest has been disturbed through me.’ I gave her the medicine; and I waited by her till the pains abated. My aunt Chance went back to her bed; and my mother and I were left alone. I noticed that her writing-desk, moved from its customary place, was on the bed by her side. She saw me looking at it. ‘This is your birthday, Francis,’ she said. ‘Have you anything to tell me?’ I had so completely forgotten my Dream, that I had no notion of what was passing in her mind when she said those words. For а moment there was а guilty fear in me that she suspected something. I turned away my face, and said, ‘No, mother; I have nothing to tell.’ She signed to me to stoop down over the pillow and kiss her. ‘God bless you, my love!’ she said; ‘and many happy returns of the day.’ She patted my hand, and closed her weary eyes, and, little by little, fell off peaceably into sleep.
I stole downstairs again. I think the good influence of my mother must have followed me down. At any rate, this is true: I stopped with my hand on the closed kitchen door, and said to myself: ‘Suppose I leave the house, and leave the village, without seeing her or speaking to her more?’
Should I really have fled from temptation in this way, if I had been left to myself to decide? Who can tell? As things were, I was not left to decide. While my doubt was in my mind, she heard me, and opened the kitchen door. My eyes and her eyes met. That ended it.
We were together, unsuspected and undisturbed, for the next two hours. Time enough for her to reveal the secret of her wasted life. Time enough for her to take possession of me as her own, to do with me as she liked. It is needless to dwell here on the misfortunes which had brought her low; they are misfortunes too common to interest anybody.
Her name was Alicia Warlock. She had been born and bred а lady. She had lost her station, her character, and her friends. Virtue shuddered at the sight of her; and Vice had got her for the rest of her days. Shocking and common, as I told you. It made no difference to me. I have said it already – I say it again – I was а man bewitched. Is there anything so very wonderful in that? Just remember who I was. Among the honest women in my own station in life, where could I have found the like of her? Could they walk as she walked? and look as she looked? When they gave me а kiss, did their lips linger over it as hers did? Had they her skin, her laugh, her foot, her hand, her touch? She never had а speck of dirt on her: I tell you her flesh was а perfume. When she embraced me, her arms folded round me like the wings of angels; and her smile covered me softly with its light like the sun in heaven. I leave you to laugh at me, or to cry over me, just as your temper may incline. I am not trying to excuse myself – I am trying to explain. You are gentle-folks; what dazzled and maddened me, is everyday experience to you. Fallen or not, angel or devil, it came to this – she was а lady; and I was а groom.
Before the house was astir, I got her away (by the workmen’s train) to а large manufacturing town in our parts.
Here – with my savings in money to help her – she could get her outfit of decent clothes and her lodging among strangers who asked no questions so long as they were paid. Here – now on one pretense and now on another – I could visit her, and we could both plan together what our future lives were to be. I need not tell you that I stood pledged to make her my wife. А man in my station always marries а woman of her sort.
Do you wonder if I was happy at this time? I should have been perfectly happy but for one little drawback. It was this: I was never quite at my ease in the presence of my promised wife.
I don’t mean that I was shy with her, or suspicious of her, or ashamed of her. The uneasiness I am speaking of was caused by а faint doubt in my mind whether I had not seen her somewhere, before the morning when we met at the doctor’s house. Over and over again, I found myself wondering whether her face did not remind me of some other face – what other I never could tell. This strange feeling, this one question that could never be answered, vexed me to а degree that you would hardly credit. It came between us at the strangest times – oftenest, however, at night, when the candles were lit. You have known what it is to try and remember а forgotten name – and to fail, search as you may, to find it in your mind. That was my case. I failed to find my lost face, just as you failed to find your lost name.
In three weeks we had talked matters over, and had arranged how I was to make а clean breast of it at home. By Alicia’s advice, I was to describe her as having been one of my fellow servants during the time I was employed under my kind master and mistress in London. There was no fear now of my mother taking any harm from the shock of а great surprise. Her health had improved during the three weeks’ interval. On the first evening when she was able to take her old place at tea time, I summoned my courage, and told her I was going to be married. The poor soul flung her arms round my neck, and burst out crying for joy. ‘Oh, Francis!’ she says, ‘I am so glad you will have somebody to comfort you and care for you when I am gone!’ As for my aunt Chance, you can anticipate what she did, without being told. Ah, me! If there had really been any prophetic virtue in the cards, what а terrible warning they might have given us that night! It was arranged that I was to bring my promised wife to dinner at the cottage on the next day.
X
I own I was proud of Alicia when I led her into our little