Daniel Deronda
乔治.艾略特 George Eliot
CHAPTER LIV. Page 2
She was waked the next morning by the casting of the anchor in the port ofGenoa--waked from a strangely-mixed dream in which she felt herselfescaping over the Mont Cenis, and wondering to find it warmer even in themoonlight on the snow, till suddenly she met Deronda, who told her to goback.
In an hour or so from that dream she actually met Deronda. But is was onthe palatial staircase of the _Italia_, where she was feeling warm in herlight woolen dress and straw hat; and her husband was by her side.
felt it the morepossible to begin a contest. But the gleaming content had died out?
There was a start of surprise in Deronda before he could raise his hat andpass on. The moment did not seem to favor any closer greeting, and thecircumstances under which they had last parted made him doubtful whetherGrandcourt would be civilly inclined to him.
The doubt might certainly have been changed into a disagreeable certainty,for Grandcourt on this unaccountable appearance of Deronda at Genoa of allplaces, immediately tried to conceive how there could have been anarrangement between him and Gwendolen. It is true that before they werewell in their rooms, he had seen how difficult it was to shape such anarrangement with any probability, being too cool-headed to find it at onceeasily credible that Gwendolen had not only while in London hastened toinform Deronda of the yachting project, but had posted a letter to himfrom Marseilles or Barcelona, advising him to travel to Genoa in time forthe chance of meeting her there, or of receiving a letter from her tellingof some other destination--all which must have implied a miraculousforeknowledge in her, and in Deronda a bird-like facility in flying aboutand perching idly. Still he was there, and though Grandcourt would notmake a fool of himself by fabrications that others might callpreposterous, he was not, for all that, disposed to admit fully thatDeronda's presence was, so far as Gwendolen was concerned, a mereaccident. It was a disgusting fact; that was enough; and no doubt she waswell pleased. A man out of temper does not wait for proofs before feelingtoward all things animate and inanimate as if they were in a conspiracyagainst him, but at once threshes his horse or kicks his dog inconsequence. Grandcourt felt toward Gwendolen and Deronda as if he knewthem to be in a conspiracy against him, and here was an event in leaguewith them. What he took for clearly certain--and so far he divined thetruth--was that Gwendolen was now counting on an interview with Derondawhenever her husband's back was turned.
As he sat taking his coffee at a convenient angle for observing her, hediscerned something which he felt sure was the effect of a secret delight--some fresh ease in moving and speaking, some peculiar meaning in hereyes, whatever she looked on. Certainly her troubles had not marred herbeauty. Mrs. Grandcourt was handsomer than Gwendolen Harleth: her graceand expression were informed by a greater variety of inward experience,giving new play to her features, new attitudes in movement and repose; herwhole person and air had the nameless something which often makes a womanmore interesting after marriage than before, less confident that allthings are according to her opinion, and yet with less of deer-likeshyness--more fully a human being.
This morning the benefits of the voyage seemed to be suddenly revealingthemselves in a new elasticity of mien. As she rose from the table and puther two heavily-jewelled hands on each side of her neck, according to herwont, she had no art to conceal that sort of joyous expectation whichmakes the present more bearable than usual, just as when a man means to goout he finds it easier to be amiable to the family for a quarter of anhour beforehand. It is not impossible that a terrier whose pleasure wasconcerned would perceive those amiable signs and know their meaning--knowwhy his master stood in a peculiar way, talked with alacrity, and even hada peculiar gleam in his eye, so that on the least movement toward thedoor, the terrier would scuttle to be in time. And, in dog fashion,Grandcourt discerned the signs of Gwendolen's expectation, interpretingthem with the narrow correctness which leaves a world of unknown feelingbehind.
"A--just ring, please, and tell Gibbs to order some dinner for us atthree," said Grandcourt, as he too rose, took out a cigar, and thenstretched his hand toward the hat that lay near. "I'm going to send Angusto find a little sailing-boat for us to go out in; one that I can manage,with you at the tiller. It's uncommonly pleasant these fine evenings--theleast boring of anything we can do."
Gwendolen turned cold. There was not only the cruel disappointment; therewas the immediate conviction that her husband had determined to take herbecause he would not leave her out of his sight; and probably this dualsolitude in a boat was the more attractive to him because it would bewearisome to her. They were not on the plank-island; she felt it the morepossible to begin a contest. But the gleaming content had died out of her.There was a change in her like that of a glacier after sunset.
"I would rather not go in the boat," she said. "Take some one else withyou."
"Very well; if you don't go, I shall not go," said Grandcourt. "We shallstay suffocating here, that's all."
"I can't bear to go in a boat," said Gwendolen, angrily.
"That is a sudden change," said Grandcourt, with a slight sneer. "But,since you decline, we shall stay indoors."
He laid down his hat again, lit his cigar, and walked up and down theroom, pausing now and then to look out of the windows. Gwendolen's tempertold her to persist. She knew very well now that Grandcourt would not gowithout her; but if he must tyrannize over her, he should not do itprecisely in the way he would choose. She would oblige him to stay in thehotel. Without speaking again, she passed into the adjoining bedroom andthrew herself into a chair with her anger, seeing no purpose or issue--only feeling that the wave of evil had rushed back upon her, and draggedher away from her momentary breathing-place.
Presently Grandcourt came in with his hat on, but threw it off and satdown sideways on a chair nearly in front of her, saying, in hissuperficial drawl--
"Have you come round yet? or do you find it agreeable to be out of temper.You make things uncommonly pleasant for me."
"Why do you want to make them unpleasant for _me_?" said Gwendolen,getting helpless again, and feeling the hot tears rise.
"Now, will you be good enough to say what it is you have to complain of?"said Grandcourt, looking into her eyes, and using his most inward voice."Is it that I stay indoors when you stay?"
She could give no answer. The sort of truth that made any excuse for heranger could not be uttered. In the conflict of despair and humiliation shebegan to sob, and the tears rolled down her cheeks--a form of agitationwhich she had never shown before in her husband's presence.
"I hope this is useful," said Grandcourt, after a moment or two. "All Ican say is, it's most confoundedly unpleasant. What the devil women cansee in this kind of thing, I don't know. _You_ see something to be got byit, of course. All I can see is, that we shall be shut up here when wemight have been having a pleasant sail."
"Let us go, then," said Gwendolen, impetuously. "Perhaps we shall bedrowned." She began to sob again.
This extraordinary behavior, which had evidently some relation to Deronda,gave more definiteness to Grandcourt's conclusions. He drew his chairquite close in front of her, and said, in a low tone, "Just be quiet andlisten, will you?"
There seemed to be a magical effect in this close vicinity. Gwendolenshrank and ceased to sob. She kept her eyelids down and clasped her handstightly.
"Let us understand each other," said Grandcourt, in the same tone. "I knowvery well what this nonsense means. But if you suppose I am going to letyou make a fool of me, just dismiss that notion from your mind. What areyou looking forward to, if you can't behave properly as my wife? There isdisgrace for you, if you like to have it, but I don't know anything else;and as to Deronda, it's quite clear that he hangs back from you."
"It's all false!" said Gwendolen, bitterly. "You don't in the leastimagine what is in my mind. I have seen enough of the disgrace that comesin that way. And you had better leave me at liberty to speak with any oneI like. It will be better for you."
"You will allow me to judge of that," said Grandcourt, rising and movingto a little distance toward the window, but standing there playing withhis whiskers as if he were awaiting something.
Gwendolen's words had so clear and tremendous a meaning for herself thatshe thought they must have expressed it to Grandcourt, and had no sooneruttered them than she dreaded their effect. But his soul was garrisonedagainst presentiments and fears: he had the courage and confidence thatbelong to domination, and he was at that moment feeling perfectlysatisfied that he held his wife with bit and bridle. By the time they hadbeen married a year she would cease to be restive. He continued standingwith his air of indifference, till she felt her habitual stiflingconsciousness of having an immovable obstruction in her life, like thenightmare of beholding a single form that serves to arrest all passagethough the wide country lies open.
"What decision have you come to?" he said, presently looking at her. "Whatorders shall I give?"
"Oh, let us go," said Gwendolen. The walls had begun to be animprisonment, and while there was breath in this man he would have themastery over her. His words had the power of thumb-screws and the coldtouch of the rock. To resist was to act like a stupid animal unable tomeasure results.
So the boat was ordered. She even went down to the quay again with him tosee it before midday. Grandcourt had recovered perfect quietude of temper,and had a scornful satisfaction in the attention given by the nauticalgroups to the _milord_, owner of the handsome yacht which had just put infor repairs, and who being an Englishman was naturally so at home on thesea that he could manage a sail with the same ease that he could manage ahorse. The sort of exultation he had discerned in Gwendolen this morningshe now thought that she discerned in him; and it was true that he had sethis mind on this boating, and carried out his purpose as something thatpeople might not expect him to do, with the gratified impulse of a strongwill which had nothing better to exert itself upon. He had remarkablephysical courage, and was proud of it--or rather he had a great contemptfor the coarser, bulkier men who generally had less. Moreover, he wasruling that Gwendolen should go with him.
And when they came down again at five o'clock, equipped for their boating,the scene was as good as a theatrical representation for all beholders.This handsome, fair-skinned English couple, manifesting the usualeccentricity of their nation, both of them proud, pale, and calm, withouta smile on their faces, moving like creatures who were fulfilling asupernatural destiny--it was a thing to go out and see, a thing to paint.The husband's chest, back, and arms, showed very well in his close-fittingdress, and the wife was declared to be a statue.
Some suggestions were proffered concerning a possible change in thebreeze, and the necessary care in putting about, but Grandcourt's mannermade the speakers understand that they were too officious, and that heknew better than they.
Gwendolen, keeping her impassable air, as they moved away from the strand,felt her imagination obstinately at work. She was not afraid of anyoutward dangers--she was afraid of her own wishes which were taking shapespossible and impossible, like a cloud of demon-faces. She was afraid ofher own hatred, which under the cold iron touch that had compelled her to-day had gathered a fierce intensity. As she sat guiding the tiller underher husband's eyes, doing just what he told her, the strife within herseemed like her own effort to escape from herself. She clung to thethought of Deronda: she persuaded herself that he would not go away whileshe was there--he knew that she needed help. The sense that he was therewould save her from acting out the evil within. And yet quick, quick, cameimages, plans of evil that would come again and seize her in the night,like furies preparing the deed that they would straightway avenge.
They were taken out of the port and carried eastward by a gentle breeze.Some clouds tempered the sunlight, and the hour was always deepeningtoward the supreme beauty of evening. Sails larger and smaller changedtheir aspect like sensitive things, and made a cheerful companionship,alternately near and far. The grand city shone more vaguely, the mountainslooked out above it, and there was stillness as in an island sanctuary.Yet suddenly Gwendolen let her hands fall, and said in a scarcely audibletone, "God help me!"
"What is the matter?" said Grandcourt, not distinguishing the words.
"Oh, nothing," said Gwendolen, rousing herself from her momentaryforgetfulness and resuming the ropes.
"Don't you find this pleasant?" said Grandcourt.
"Very."
"You admit now we couldn't have done anything better?"
"No--I see nothing better. I think we shall go on always, like the FlyingDutchman," said Gwendolen wildly.
Grandcourt gave her one of his narrow examining glances, and then said,"If you like, we can go to Spezia in the morning, and let them take us upthere."
"No; I shall like nothing better than this."
"Very well: we'll do the same to-morrow. But we must be turning in soon. Ishall put about."