米德尔马契 英文版 Middlemarch
乔治.艾略特 George Eliot
CHAPTER LXIX.
"If thou hast heard a word, let it die with thee."--Ecclesiasticus.
Mr. Bulstrode was still seated in his manager's room at the Bank,about three o'clock of the same day on which he had received Lydgatethere, when the clerk entered to say that his horse was waiting,and also that Mr. Garth was outside and begged to speak with him.
"By all means," said Bulstrode; and Caleb entered. "Pray sit down,Mr. Garth," continued the banker, in his suavest tone.
"I am glad that you arrived just in time to find me here.I know you count your minutes."
"Oh," said Caleb, gently, with a slow swing of his head on one side,as he seated himself and laid his hat on the floor.
He looked at the ground, leaning forward and letting his long fingersdroop between his legs, while each finger moved in succession,as if it were sharing some thought which filled his large quiet brow.
Mr. Bulstrode, like every one else who knew Caleb, was usedto his slowness in beginning to speak on any topic which he feltto be important, and rather expected that he was about to recurto the buying of some houses in Blindman's Court, for the sakeof pulling them down, as a sacrifice of property which would bewell repaid by the influx of air and light on that spot. It wasby propositions of this kind that Caleb was sometimes troublesometo his employers; but he had usually found Bulstrode ready to meethim in projects of improvement, and they had got on well together.When he spoke again, however, it was to say, in rather a subdued voice--
"I have just come away from Stone Court, Mr. Bulstrode."
"You found nothing wrong there, I hope," said the banker; "I wasthere myself yesterday. Abel has done well with the lambs this year."
"Why, yes," said Caleb, looking up gravely, "there is something wrong--a stranger, who is very ill, I think. He wants a doctor, and I cameto tell you of that. His name is Raffles."
He saw the shock of his words passing through Bulstrode's frame.On this subject the banker had thought that his fears were too constantlyon the watch to be taken by surprise; but he had been mistaken.
"Poor wretch!" he said in a compassionate tone, though his lipstrembled a little. "Do you know how he came there?"
comingto a crisis immediately. There is no hurry."you pass--or!
"I took him myself," said Caleb, quietly--"took him up in my gig.He had got down from the coach, and was walking a littlebeyond the turning from the toll-house, and I overtook him.He remembered seeing me with you once before, at Stone Court,and he asked me to take him on. I saw he was ill: it seemedto me the right thing to do, to carry him under shelter.And now I think you should lose no time in getting advice for him."Caleb took up his hat from the floor as he ended, and rose slowlyfrom his seat.
"Certainly," said Bulstrode, whose mind was very active at this moment."Perhaps you will yourself oblige me, Mr. Garth, by calling atMr. Lydgate's as you pass--or stay! he may at this hour probablybe at the Hospital. I will first send my man on the horse therewith a note this instant, and then I will myself ride to Stone Court."
Bulstrode quickly wrote a note, and went out himself to givethe commission to his man. When he returned, Caleb was standingas before with one hand on the back of the chair, holding his hatwith the other. In Bulstrode's mind the dominant thought was,"Perhaps Raffles only spoke to Garth of his illness. Garth may wonder,as he must have done before, at this disreputable fellow's claimingintimacy with me; but he will know nothing. And he is friendly to me--I can be of use to him."
He longed for some confirmation of this hopeful conjecture,but to have asked any question as to what Raffles had said or donewould have been to betray fear.
"I am exceedingly obliged to you, Mr. Garth," he said, in his usualtone of politeness. "My servant will be back in a few minutes,and I shall then go myself to see what can be done for thisunfortunate man. Perhaps you had some other business with me?If so, pray be seated."
"Thank you," said Caleb, making a slight gesture with his righthand to waive the invitation. "I wish to say, Mr. Bulstrode,that I must request you to put your business into some other handsthan mine. I am obliged to you for your handsome way of meeting me--about the letting of Stone Court, and all other business.But I must give it up." A sharp certainty entered like a stab intoBulstrode's soul.
"This is sudden, Mr. Garth," was all he could say at first.
"It is," said Caleb; "but it is quite fixed. I must give it up."
He spoke with a firmness which was very gentle, and yet he could seethat Bulstrode seemed to cower under that gentleness, his face lookingdried and his eyes swerving away from the glance which rested on him.Caleb felt a deep pity for him, but he could have used no pretextsto account for his resolve, even if they would have been of any use.
"You have been led to this, I apprehend, by some slandersconcerning me uttered by that unhappy creature," said Bulstrode,anxious now to know the utmost.
"That is true. I can't deny that I act upon what I heard from him."
"You are a conscientious man, Mr. Garth--a man, I trust,who feels himself accountable to God. You would not wish to injureme by being too ready to believe a slander," said Bulstrode,casting about for pleas that might be adapted to his hearer's mind."That is a poor reason for giving up a connection which I thinkI may say will be mutually beneficial."
"I would injure no man if I could help it," said Caleb; "even if Ithought God winked at it. I hope I should have a feeling for myfellow-creature. But, sir--I am obliged to believe that this Raffleshas told me the truth. And I can't be happy in working with you,or profiting by you. It hurts my mind. I must beg you to seekanother agent."
"Very well, Mr. Garth. But I must at least claim to know the worstthat he has told you. I must know what is the foul speech that Iam liable to be the victim of," said Bulstrode, a certain amountof anger beginning to mingle with his humiliation before this quietman who renounced his benefits.
"That's needless," said Caleb, waving his hand, bowing his head slightly,and not swerving from the tone which had in it the merciful intentionto spare this pitiable man. "What he has said to me will neverpass from my lips, unless something now unknown forces it from me.If you led a harmful life for gain, and kept others out of theirrights by deceit, to get the more for yourself, I dare say you repent--you would like to go back, and can't: that must be a bitter thing"--Caleb paused a moment and shook his head--"it is not for me to makeyour life harder to you."
"But you do--you do make it harder to me," said Bulstrode constrainedinto a genuine, pleading cry. "You make it harder to me by turningyour back on me."
"That I'm forced to do," said Caleb, still more gently, lifting uphis hand. "I am sorry. I don't judge you and say, he is wicked,and I am righteous. God forbid. I don't know everything. A manmay do wrong, and his will may rise clear out of it, though he can'tget his life clear. That's a bad punishment. If it is so with you,--well, I'm very sorry for you. But I have that feeling inside me,that I can't go on working with you. That's all, Mr. Bulstrode.Everything else is buried, so far as my will goes. And I wishyou good-day."
"One moment, Mr. Garth!" said Bulstrode, hurriedly. "I may trustthen to your solemn assurance that you will not repeat eitherto man or woman what--even if it have any degree of truth in it--is yet a malicious representation?" Caleb's wrath was stirred,and he said, indignantly--
word, let it die with thee."--Ecclesiasticus.them a great .
"Why should I have said it if I didn't mean it? I am in no fearof you. Such tales as that will never tempt my tongue."
"Excuse me--I am agitated--I am the victim of this abandoned man."
"Stop a bit! you have got to consider whether you didn't helpto make him worse, when you profited by his vices."
"You are wronging me by too readily believing him," said Bulstrode,oppressed, as by a nightmare, with the inability to deny flatlywhat Raffles might have said; and yet feeling it an escapethat Caleb had not so stated it to him as to ask for that flat denial.
"No," said Caleb, lifting his hand deprecatingly; "I am ready tobelieve better, when better is proved. I rob you of no good chance.As to speaking, I hold it a crime to expose a man's sin unlessI'm clear it must be done to save the innocent. That is my wayof thinking, Mr. Bulstrode, and what I say, I've no need to swear.I wish you good-day."
Some hours later, when he was at home, Caleb said to his wife,incidentally, that he had had some little differences with Bulstrode,and that in consequence, he had given up all notion of takingStone Court, and indeed had resigned doing further business for him.
"He was disposed to interfere too much, was he?" said Mrs. Garth,imagining that her husband had been touched on his sensitive point,and not been allowed to do what he thought right as to materialsand modes of work.
"Oh," said Caleb, bowing his head and waving his hand gravely.And Mrs. Garth knew that this was a sign of his not intending to speakfurther on the subject.
As for Bulstrode, he had almost immediately mounted his horse and setoff for Stone Court, being anxious to arrive there before Lydgate.
Yet when he arrived at Stone Court he could not see the changein Raffles without a shock. But for his pallor and feebleness,Bulstrode would have called the change in him entirely mental.Instead of his loud tormenting mood, he showed an intense, vague terror,and seemed to deprecate Bulstrode's anger, because the money wasall gone--he had been robbed--it had half of it been taken from him.He had only come here because he was ill and somebody was hunting him--somebody was after him he had told nobody anything, he had kepthis mouth shut. Bulstrode, not knowing the significance ofthese symptoms, interpreted this new nervous susceptibility intoa means of alarming Raffles into true confessions, and taxed himwith falsehood in saying that he had not told anything, since hehad just told the man who took him up in his gig and brought himto Stone Court. Raffles denied this with solemn adjurations;the fact being that the links of consciousness were interrupted in him,and that his minute terror-stricken narrative to Caleb Garth had beendelivered under a set of visionary impulses which had dropped backinto darkness.
Bulstrode's heart sank again at this sign that he could get nograsp over the wretched man's mind, and that no word of Rafflescould be trusted as to the fact which he most wanted to know,namely, whether or not he had really kept silence to every one inthe neighborhood except Caleb Garth. The housekeeper had told himwithout the least constraint of manner that since Mr. Garth left,Raffles had asked her for beer, and after that had not spoken,seeming very ill. On that side it might be concluded that therehad been no betrayal. Mrs. Abel thought, like the servants atThe Shrubs, that the strange man belonged to the unpleasant "kin"who are among the troubles of the rich; she had at first referredthe kinship to Mr. Rigg, and where there was property left,the buzzing presence of such large blue-bottles seemed natural enough.How he could be "kin" to Bulstrode as well was not so clear,but Mrs. Abel agreed with her husband that there was "no knowing,"a proposition which had a great deal of mental food for her,so that she shook her head over it without further speculation.
In less than an hour Lydgate arrived. Bulstrode met him outsidethe wainscoted parlor, where Raffles was, and said--
"I have called you in, Mr. Lydgate, to an unfortunate man who was oncein my employment, many years ago. Afterwards he went to America,and returned I fear to an idle dissolute life. Being destitute,he has a claim on me. He was slightly connected with Rigg,the former owner of this place, and in consequence found his way here.I believe he is seriously ill: apparently his mind is affected.I feel bound to do the utmost for him."
Lydgate, who had the remembrance of his last conversation withBulstrode strongly upon him, was not disposed to say an unnecessaryword to him, and bowed slightly in answer to this account;but just before entering the room he turned automaticallyand said, "What is his name?"--to know names being as much a partof the medical man's accomplishment as of the practical politician's.
"Raffles, John Raffles," said Bulstrode, who hoped that whateverbecame of Raffles, Lydgate would never know any more of him.
When he had thoroughly examined and considered the patient, Lydgateordered that he should go to bed, and be kept there in as completequiet as possible, and then went with Bulstrode into another room.
"It is a serious case, I apprehend," said the banker, before Lydgatebegan to speak.
"No--and yes," said Lydgate, half dubiously. "It is difficultto decide as to the possible effect of long-standing complications;but the man had a robust constitution to begin with. I should notexpect this attack to be fatal, though of course the system isin a ticklish state. He should be well watched and attended to."
"I will remain here myself," said Bulstrode. "Mrs. Abel and herhusband are inexperienced. I can easily remain here for the night,if you will oblige me by taking a note for Mrs. Bulstrode."
"I should think that is hardly necessary," said Lydgate. "He seemstame and terrified enough. He might become more unmanageable.But there is a man here--is there not?"
"I have more than once stayed here a few nights for the sakeof seclusion," said Bulstrode, indifferently; "I am quite disposedto do so now. Mrs. Abel and her husband can relieve or aid me,if necessary."
"Very well. Then I need give my directions only to you," said Lydgate,not feeling surprised at a little peculiarity in Bulstrode.
"You think, then, that the case is hopeful?" said Bulstrode,when Lydgate had ended giving his orders.
"Unless there turn out to be further complications, such as Ihave not at present detected--yes," said Lydgate. "He may passon to a worse stage; but I should not wonder if he got betterin a few days, by adhering to the treatment I have prescribed.There must be firmness. Remember, if he calls for liquors of any sort,not to give them to him. In my opinion, men in his condition areoftener killed by treatment than by the disease. Still, new symptomsmay arise. I shall come again to-morrow morning."
After waiting for the note to be carried to Mrs. Bulstrode,Lydgate rode away, forming no conjectures, in the first instance,about the history of Raffles, but rehearsing the whole argument,which had lately been much stirred by the publication of Dr. Ware'sabundant experience in America, as to the right way of treatingcases of alcoholic poisoning such as this. Lydgate, when abroad,had already been interested in this question: he was stronglyconvinced against the prevalent practice of allowing alcoholand persistently administering large doses of opium; and he hadrepeatedly acted on this conviction with a favorable result.
"The man is in a diseased state," he thought, "but there's a good dealof wear in him still. I suppose he is an object of charity to Bulstrode.It is curious what patches of hardness and tenderness lie side byside in men's dispositions. Bulstrode seems the most unsympatheticfellow I ever saw about some people, and yet he has taken no endof trouble, and spent a great deal of money, on benevolent objects.I suppose he has some test by which he finds out whom Heavencares for--he has made up his mind that it doesn't care for me."
This streak of bitterness came from a plenteous source, and keptwidening in the current of his thought as he neared Lowick Gate.He had not been there since his first interview with Bulstrodein the morning, having been found at the Hospital by the banker'smessenger; and for the first time he was returning to his homewithout the vision of any expedient in the background which lefthim a hope of raising money enough to deliver him from the comingdestitution of everything which made his married life tolerable--everything which saved him and Rosamond from that bare isolationin which they would be forced to recognize how little of a comfortthey could be to each other. It was more bearable to do withouttenderness for himself than to see that his own tenderness couldmake no amends for the lack of other things to her. The sufferingsof his own pride from humiliations past and to come were keen enough,yet they were hardly distinguishable to himself from that more acutepain which dominated them--the pain of foreseeing that Rosamondwould come to regard him chiefly as the cause of disappointment andunhappiness to her. He had never liked the makeshifts of poverty,and they had never before entered into his prospects for himself;but he was beginning now to imagine how two creatures who lovedeach other, and had a stock of thoughts in common, might laughover their shabby furniture, and their calculations how far theycould afford butter and eggs. But the glimpse of that poetryseemed as far off from him as the carelessness of the golden age;in poor Rosamond's mind there was not room enough for luxuries to looksmall in. He got down from his horse in a very sad mood, and wentinto the house, not expecting to be cheered except by his dinner,and reflecting that before the evening closed it would be wiseto tell Rosamond of his application to Bulstrode and its failure.It would be well not to lose time in preparing her for the worst.
But his dinner waited long for him before he was able to eat it.For on entering he found that Dover's agent had already put a manin the house, and when he asked where Mrs. Lydgate was, he was toldthat she was in her bedroom. He went up and found her stretchedon the bed pale and silent, without an answer even in her faceto any word or look of his. He sat down by the bed and leaningover her said with almost a cry of prayer--
"Forgive me for this misery, my poor Rosamond! Let us only loveone another."
She looked at him silently, still with the blank despair on her face;but then the tears began to fill her blue eyes, and her lip trembled.The strong man had had too much to bear that day. He let his headfall beside hers and sobbed.
Court,and he asked me to take him on. .
He did not hinder her from going to her father early in the morning--it seemed now that he ought not to hinder her from doing as she pleased.In half an hour she came back, and said that papa and mamma wished herto go and stay with them while things were in this miserable state.Papa said he could do nothing about the debt--if he paid this,there would be half-a-dozen more. She had better come backhome again till Lydgate had got a comfortable home for her."Do you object, Tertius?"
"I should not go till to-morrow," said Rosamond; "I shall wantto pack my clothes."
"Oh, I would wait a little longer than to-morrow--there is noknowing what may happen," said Lydgate, with bitter irony."I may get my neck broken, and that may make things easier to you."
It was Lydgate's misfortune and Rosamond's too, that his tendernesstowards her, which was both an emotional prompting and a well-consideredresolve, was inevitably interrupted by these outbursts of indignationeither ironical or remonstrant. She thought them totally unwarranted,and the repulsion which this exceptional severity excited inher was in danger of making the more persistent tenderness unacceptable.
"I see you do not wish me to go," she said, with chill mildness;"why can you not say so, without that kind of violence? I shall stayuntil you request me to do otherwise."
Lydgate said no more, but went out on his rounds. He felt bruisedand shattered, and there was a dark line under his eyes whichRosamond had not seen before. She could not bear to look at him.Tertius had a way of taking things which made them a great dealworse for her.