现代灰姑娘 英文版 A Modern Cinderella
露意莎.梅.奥尔科特 Louisa May Alcott
THE BROTHERS. Page 2
"I will be still and hear you; but open thewindow. Why did you shut it?"
"I'm sorry I can't do it, Ma'am; but yer'djump out, or call, if I did, an' I'm not ready yet.I shut it to make yer sleep, an' heat would do itquicker'n anything else I could do."
The captain moved, and feebly muttered,"Water!" Instinctively I rose to give it to him,but the heavy hand came down upon my shoulder,and in the same decided tone Robert said,-=
"The water went with the physic; let himcall."
"Do let me go to him! he'll die withoutcare!"
"I mean he shall;--don't yer interfere, if yerplease, Ma'am."
In spite of his quiet tone and respectful manner,I saw murder in his eyes, and turned faint withfear; yet the fear excited me, and, hardly knowingwhat I did, I seized the hands that had seized me,crying,--
"No, no, you shall not kill him! it is base tohurt a helpless man. Why do you hate him?He is not your master?"
"He's my brother."
I felt that answer from head to foot. andseemed to fathom what was coming, with aprescience vague, but unmistakable. One appealwas left to me, and I made it.
"Robert, tell me what it means? Do notcommit a crime and make me accessory to it--There is a better way of righting wrong than byviolence;--let me help you find it."
My voice trembled as I spoke, and I heard thefrightened flutter of my heart; so did he, and ifany little act of mine had ever won affection orrespect from him, the memory of it served methen. He looked down, and seemed to put somequestion to himself; whatever it was, the answerwas in my favor, for when his eyes rose again,they were gloomy, but not desperate.
"I will tell you, Ma'am; but mind, this makesno difference; the boy is mine. I'll give the Lorda chance to take him fust; if He don't, I shall."
"Oh, no! remember, he is your brother."
An unwise speech; I felt it as it passed my lips,for a black frown gathered on Robert's face, andhis strong hands closed with an ugly sort of grip.But he did not touch the poor soul gasping therebefore him, and seemed content to let the slowsuffocation of that stifling room end his frail life.
"I'm not like to forget that, Ma'am, when I'vebeen thinkin' of it all this week. I knew him whenthey fetched him in, an' would 'a' done it long'fore this, but I wanted to ask where Lucy was;he knows,--he told to-night,--an' now he's donefor."
"Who is Lucy?" I asked hurriedly, intent onkeeping his mind busy with any thought butmurder.
With one of the swift transitions of a mixedtemperament like this, at my question Robert'sdeep eyes filled, the clenched hands were spreadbefore his face, and all I heard were the brokenwords,--
"My wife,--he took her--"
In that instant every thought of fear was swallowedup in burning indignation for the wrong,and a perfect passion of pity for the desperate manso tempted to avenge an injury for which thereseemed no redress but this. He was no longerslave or contraband, no drop of black bloodmarred him in my sight, but an infinite compassionyearned to save, to help, to comfort him.Words seemed so powerless I offered none, onlyput my hand on his poor head, wounded, homeless,bowed down with grief for which I had nocure, and softly smoothed the long neglected hair,pitifully wondering the while where was thewife who must have loved this tender-hearted manso well.
The captain moaned again, and faintly whispered,"Air!" but I never stirred. God forgive me!just then I hated him as only a woman thinkingof a sister woman's wrong could hate. Robertlooked up; his eyes were dry again, his mouthgrim. I saw that, said, "Tell me more," and hedid,--for sympathy is a gift the poorest may give,the proudest stoop to receive.
"Yer see, Ma'am, his father,--I might sayours, if I warn't ashamed of both of 'em,--hisfather died two years ago, an' left us all toMarster Ned,--that's him here, eighteen then. Healways hated me, I looked so like old Marster: hedon't--only the light skin an' hair. Old Marsterwas kind to all of us, me 'specially, an' boughtLucy off the next plantation down there in SouthCar'lina, when he found I liked her. I marriedher, all I could, Ma'am; it warn't much, but wewas true to one another till Marster Ned comehome a year after an' made hell fer both of us.He sent my old mother to be used up in hisrice swamp in Georgy; he found me with my prettyLucy, an' though young Miss cried, an' I prayedto him on my knees, an' Lucy run away, hewouldn't have no mercy; he brought her back,an'--took her, Ma'am."
"Oh! what did you do?" I cried, hot withhelpless pain and passion.
How the man's outraged heart sent the bloodflaming up into his face and deepened the tonesof his impetuous voice, as he stretched his armacross the bed, saying, with a terribly expressivegesture,--
"I half murdered him, an' to-night I'll finish."
"Yes, yes,--but go on now; what came next?"
He gave me a look that showed no white man couldhave felt a deeper degradation in remembering andconfessing these last acts of brotherlyoppression.
"They whipped me till I couldn't stand, an'then they sold me further South. Yer thoughtI was a white man once;--look here!"
With a sudden wrench he tore the shirt fromneck to waist, and on his strong brown shouldersshowed me furrows deeply ploughed, woundswhich, though healed, were ghastlier to me thanany in that house. I could not speak to him, and,with the pathetic dignity a great grief lends thehumblest sufferer, he ended his brief tragedy bysimply saying,--
"That's all. Ma'am. I've never seen her since,an' now I never shall in this world,--maybe notin t' other."
"But, Robert, why think her dead? Thecaptain was wandering when he said those sadthings; perhaps he will retract them when he issane. Don't despair; don't give up yet."
"No, Ma'am, I guess he's right; she was tooproud to bear that long. It's like her to killherself. I told her to, if there was no other way;an' she always minded me, Lucy did. My poorgirl! Oh, it warn't right! No, by God, it warn't!"
As the memory of this bitter wrong, thisdouble bereavement, burned in his sore heart, thedevil that lurks in every strong man's blood leapedup; he put his hand upon his brother's throat, and,watching the white face before him, muttered lowbetween his teeth,--
"I'm lettin' him go too easy; there's no pain inthis; we a'n't even yet. I wish he knew me.Marster Ned! it's Bob; where's Lucy?"
From the captain's lips there came a long faintsigh, and nothing but a flutter of the eyelidsshowed that he still lived. A strange stillnessfilled the room as the elder brother held theyounger's life suspended in his hand, while waveringbetween a dim hope and a deadly hate. Inthe whirl of thoughts that went on in my brain,only one was clear enough to act upon. I mustprevent murder, if I could,--but how? Whatcould I do up there alone, locked in with a dyingman and a lunatic?--for any mind yielded utterlyto any unrighteous impulse is mad while the impulserules it. Strength I had not, nor muchcourage, neither time nor wit for stratagem, andchance only could bring me help before it wastoo late. But one weapon I possessed,--a tongue,--often a woman's best defence: and sympathy,stronger than fear, gave me power to use it. WhatI said Heaven only knows, but surely Heavenhelped me; words burned on my lips, tearsstreamed from my eyes, and some good angelprompted me to use the one name that had powerto arrest my hearer's hand and touch his heart.For at that moment I heartily believed that Lucylived, and this earnest faith roused in him a likebelief.
He listened with the lowering look of one inwhom brute instinct was sovereign for the time,--a look that makes the noblest countenance base.He was but a man,--a poor, untaught, outcast,outraged man. Life had few joys for him; theworld offered him no honors, no success, no home,no love. What future would this crime mar? andwhy should he deny himself that sweet, yet bittermorsel called revenge? How many white men,with all New England's freedom, culture, Christianity,would not have felt as he felt then?Should I have reproached him for a human anguish,a human longing for redress, all now lefthim from the ruin of his few poor hopes? Whohad taught him that self-control, self-sacrifice, areattributes that make men masters of the earth andlift them nearer heaven? Should I have urgedthe beauty of forgiveness, the duty of devoutsubmission? He had no religion, for he was nosaintly "Uncle Tom," and Slavery's black shadowseemed to darken all the world to him and shutout God. Should I have warned him of penalties,of judgments, and the potency of law? Whatdid he know of justice, or the mercy that shouldtemper that stern virtue, when every law, humanand divine, had been broken on his hearthstone?Should I have tried to touch him by appeals tofilial duty, to brotherly love? How had hisappeals been answered? What memories hadfather and brother stored up in his heart to pleadfor either now? No,--all these influences, theseassociations, would have proved worse than useless,had I been calm enough to try them. I wasnot; but instinct, subtler than reason, showed methe one safe clue by which to lead this troubledsoul from the labyrinth in which it groped andnearly fell. When I paused, breathless, Robertturned to me, asking, as if human assurances couldstrengthen his faith in Divine Omnipotence,--
"Do you believe, if I let Marster Ned live, theLord will give me back my Lucy?"
"As surely as there is a Lord, you will find herhere or in the beautiful hereafter, where there isno black or white, no master and no slave."
He took his hand from his brother's throat,lifted his eyes from my face to the wintry skybeyond, as if searching for that blessed country,happier even than the happy North. Alas, it wasthe darkest hour before the dawn!--there was nostar above, no light below but the pale glimmerof the lamp that showed the brother who hadmade him desolate. Like a blind man who believesthere is a sun, yet cannot see it, he shookhis head, let his arms drop nervously upon hisknees, and sat there dumbly asking that questionwhich many a soul whose faith is firmer fixed thanhis has asked in hours less dark than this,--
"Where is God?" I saw the tide had turned,and strenuously tried to keep this rudderlesslifeboat from slipping back into the whirlpoolwherein it had been so nearly lost.
"I have listened to you, Robert; now hear me,and heed what I say, because my heart is full ofpity for you, full of hope for your future, and adesire to help you now. I want you to go awayfrom here, from the temptation of this place, andthe sad thoughts that haunt it. You have conqueredyourself once, and I honor you for it, because,the harder the battle, the more glorious thevictory; but it is safer to put a greater distancebetween you and this man. I will write youletters, give you money, and send you to good oldMassachusetts to begin your new life a freeman,--yes, and a happy man; for when the captain ishimself again, I will learn where Lucy is, and moveheaven and earth to find and give her back toyou. Will you do this, Robert?"
Slowly, very slowly, the answer came; for thepurpose of a week, perhaps a year, was hard torelinquish in an hour.
"Yes, Ma'am, I will."
"Good! Now you are the man I thought you,and I'll work for you with all my heart. Youneed sleep, my poor fellow; go, and try to forget.The captain is still alive, and as yet you are sparedthe sin. No, don't look there; I'll care for him.Come, Robert, for Lucy's sake."
Thank Heaven for the immortality of love!for when all other means of salvation failed, a sparkof this vital fire softened the man's iron will untila woman's hand could bend it. He let me takefrom him the key, let me draw him gently awayand lead him to the solitude which now was themost healing balm I could bestow. Once in hislittle room, he fell down on his bed and lay thereas if spent with the sharpest conflict of his life. Islipped the bolt across his door, and unlocked myown, flung up the window, steadied myself with abreath of air, then rushed to Doctor Franck. Hecame; and till dawn we worked together, savingone brother's life, and taking earnest thought howbest to secure the other's liberty. When the suncame up as blithely as if it shone only upon happyhomes, the Doctor went to Robert. For an hourI heard the murmur of their voices; once I caughtthe sound of heavy sobs, and for a time a reverenthush, as if in the silence that good man wereministering to soul as well as sense. When hedeparted he took Robert with him, pausing to tellme he should get him off as soon as possible, butnot before we met again.
Nothing more was seen of them all day; anothersurgeon came to see the captain, and anotherattendant came to fill the empty place. I tried torest, but could not, with the thought of poor Lucytugging at my heart, and was soon back at mypost again, anxiously hoping that my contrabandhad not been too hastily spirited away. Just asnight fell there came a tap, and opening, I sawRobert literally "clothed and in his right mind."The Doctor had replaced the ragged suit withtidy garments, and no trace of that tempestuousnight remained but deeper lines upon the forehead,and the docile look of a repentant child. He didnot cross the threshold, did not offer me his hand,--only took off his cap, saying, with a traitorousfalter in his voice,--
"God bless you, Ma'am! I'm goin'."
I put out both my hands, and held his fast.
"Good-bye, Robert! Keep up good heart,and when I come home to Massachusetts we'llmeet in a happier place than this. Are you quiteready, quite comfortable for your journey?
"Yes, Ma'am, Yes; the Doctor's fixed everything;I'm goin' with a friend of his; my papersare all right, an' I'm as happy as I can be till Ifind,--"
He stopped there; then went on, with a glanceinto the room,--
"I'm glad I didn't do it, an' I thank yer,Ma'am, fer hinderin' me,--thank yer hearty; butI'm afraid I hate him jest the same."
Of course he did; and so did I; for these faultyhearts of ours cannot turn perfect in a night, butneed frost and fire, wind and rain, to ripen andmake them ready for the great harvest-home.Wishing to divert his mind, I put my poor miteinto his hand, and, remembering the magic of acertain little book, I gave him mine, on whosedark cover whitely shone the Virgin Mother andthe Child, the grand history of whose life the bookcontained. The money went into Robert's pocketwith a grateful murmur, the book into his bosomwith a long took and a tremulous--
"I never saw my baby, Ma'am."
I broke down then; and though my eyes weretoo dim to see, I felt the touch of lips upon myhands, heard the sound of departing feet, andknew my contraband was gone.
When one feels an intense dislike, the less onesays about the subject of it the better; thereforeI shall merely record that the captain lived,--intime was exchanged; and that, whoever the otherparty was, I am convinced the Government gotthe best of the bargain. But long before thisoccurred, I had fulfilled my promise to Robert; foras soon as my patient recovered strength of memoryenough to make his answer trustworthy, I asked, withoutany circumlocution,--
"Captain Fairfax, where is Lucy?"
"Dead, Miss Dane."
"And she killed herself, when you sold Bob?"
"How the Devil did you know that?" hemuttered, with an expression half-remorseful,half-amazed; but I was satisfied, and said no more.
Of course, this went to Robert, waiting faraway there in a lonely home,--waiting, working,hoping for his Lucy. It almost broke my heartto do it; but delay was weak, deceit was wicked;so I sent the heavy tidings. and very soon theanswer came,--only three lines; but I felt that thesustaining power of the man's life was gone.
"I thought I'd never see her any more; I'm gladto know she's out of trouble. I thank yer, Ma'am;an' if they let us, I'll fight fer yer till I'm killed.which I hope will be 'fore long."
Six months later he had his wish, and kept hisword.
Every one knows the story of the attack onFort Wagner; but we should not tire yet ofrecalling how our Fifty-Fourth, spent with threesleepless nights, a day's fast, and a march underthe July sun, stormed the fort as night fell, facingdeath in many shapes, following their brave leadersthrough a fiery rain of shot and shell, fightingvaliantly for God and Governor Andrew,"--how the regiment that went into action seven hundredstrong came out having had nearly half itsnumber captured, killed, or wounded, leavingtheir young commander to be buried, like a chiefof earlier times, with his body-guard around him,faithful to the death. Surely, the insult turns tohonor, and the wide grave needs no monumentbut the heroism that consecrates it in our sight;surely, the hearts that held him nearest see throughtheir tears a noble victory in the seeming sad defeat;and surely, God's benediction was bestowed,when this loyal soul answered, as Death calledthe roll, "Lord, here I am, with the brothersThou hast given me!"
The future must show how well that fight wasfought; for though Fort Wagner still defies us,public prejudice is down; and through the cannonsmoke of that black night the manhood of thecolored race shines before many eyes that wouldnot see, rings in many ears that would not hear,wins many hearts that would not hitherto believe.
When the news came that we were needed,there was none so glad as I to leave teachingcontrabands, the new work I had taken up, andgo to nurse "our boys," as my dusky flock soproudly called the wounded of the Fifty-Fourth.Feeling more satisfaction, as I assumed my bigapron and turned up my cuffs, than if dressing forthe President's levee, I fell to work on board thehospital-ship in Hilton-Head harbor. The scenewas most familiar, and yet strange; for only darkfaces looked up at me from the pallets so thicklylaid along the floor, and I missed the sharp accentof my Yankee boys in the slower, softer voicescalling cheerily to one another, or answering myquestions with a stout, "We'll never give it up,Ma'am, till the last Reb's dead," or, "If ourpeople's free, we can afford to die."
Passing from bed to bed, intent on making onepair of hands do the work of three, at least, Igradually washed, fed, and bandaged my waydown the long line of sable heroes, and coming tothe very last, found that he was my contraband.So old, so worn, so deathly weak and wan, Inever should have known him but for the deepscar on his cheek. That side lay uppermost, andcaught my eye at once; but even then I doubted,such an awful change had come upon him, when,turning to the ticket just above his head, I saw thename, "Robert Dane." That both assured andtouched me, for, remembering that he had noname, I knew that he had taken mine. I longedfor him to speak to me, to tell how he had faredsince I lost sight of him, and let me perform somelittle service for him in return for many he haddone for me; but he seemed asleep; and as Istood re-living that strange night again, a brightlad, who lay next him softly waving an old fanacross both beds, looked up and said,--
"I guess you know him, Ma'am?"
"You are right. Do you?"
"As much as any one was able to, Ma'am."
"Why do you say 'was,' as if the man weredead and gone?"
"I s'pose because I know he'll have to go.He's got a bad jab in the breast, an' is bleedin'inside, the Doctor says. He don't suffer any,only gets weaker 'n' weaker every minute. I'vebeen fannin' him this long while, an' he's talkeda little; but he don't know me now, so he's mostgone, I guess."
There was so much sorrow and affection in theboy's face, that I remembered something, andasked, with redoubled interest,--
Are you the one that brought him off? Iwas told about a boy who nearly lost his life insaving that of his mate."
I dare say the young fellow blushed, as anymodest lad might have done; I could not see it,but I heard the chuckle of satisfaction that escapedhim, as he glanced from his shattered arm andbandaged side to the pale figure opposite.
"Lord, Ma'am, that's nothin'; we boys alwaysstan' by one another, an' I warn't goin' toleave him to be tormented any more by themcussed Rebs. He's been a slave once, thoughhe don't look half so much like it as me, an'was born in Boston."
He did not; for the speaker was as black as the aceof spades,--being a sturdy specimen, the knave of clubswould perhaps be a fitter representative,-- but the darkfreeman looked at the white slave with the pitiful, yetpuzzled expression I have so often seen on the faces ofour wisest men, when this tangled question of Slaverypresents itself, asking to be cut or patiently undone.
"Tell me what you know of this man; for,even if he were awake, he is too weak to talk."
"I never saw him till I joined the regiment, an'no one 'peared to have got much out of him. Hewas a shut-up sort of feller, an' didn't seem tocare for anything but gettin' at the Rebs. Somesay he was the fust man of us that enlisted; I knowhe fretted till we were off, an' when we pitchedinto old Wagner, he fought like the Devil."
God bless you, Ma'am! I'm goin'."hearty; butI'.
"Were you with him when he was wounded?How was it?"
"Yes, Ma'am. There was somethin' queerabout it; for he 'peared to know the chap thatkilled him, an' the chap knew him. I don't dareto ask, but I rather guess one owned the othersome time,--for, when they clinched, the chapsung out, 'Bob!' an' Dane, 'Marster Ned!then they went at it."
I sat down suddenly, for the old anger andcompassion struggled in my heart, and I both longedand feared to hear what was to follow.
"You see, when the Colonel--Lord keep an'send him back to us!--it a'n't certain yet, youknow, Ma'am, though it's two days ago we losthim--well, when the Colonel shouted, 'Rush on.boys, rush on!' Dane tore away as if he wasgoin' to take the fort alone; I was next him, an'kept close as we went through the ditch an' upthe wall. Hi! warn't that a rusher!" and theboy flung up his well arm with a whoop, as if themere memory of that stirring moment came overhim in a gust of irrepressible excitement.
"Were you afraid?" I said,--asking the questionwomen often put, and receiving the answerthey seldom fail to get.
"No, Ma'am!"-- emphasis on the "Ma'am,"--"I never thought of anything but the damnRebs, that scalp, slash, an' cut our ears off, whenthey git us. I was bound to let daylight into oneof 'em at least, an' I did. Hope he liked it!"
"It is evident that you did, and I don't blameyou in the least. Now go on about Robert, forI should be at work."
"He was one of the fust up; I was just behind,an' though the whole thing happened in a minute.I remember how it was, for all I was yellin' an'knockin' round like mad. Just where we were,some sort of an officer was wavin' his sword an'cheerin' on his men; Dane saw him by a bigflash that come by; he flung away his gun, give aleap, an' went at that feller as if he was Jeff,Beauregard, an' Lee, all in one. I scrabbledafter as quick as I could, but was only up in timeto see him git the sword straight through him an'drop into the ditch. You needn't ask what I didnext, Ma'am, for I don't quite know myself; allI 'm clear about is, that I managed somehow topitch that Reb into the fort as dead as Moses,git hold of Dane, an' bring him off. Poor oldfeller! we said we went in to live or die; he saidhe went in to die, an' he 's done it."
I had been intently watching the excitedspeaker; but as he regretfully added those lastwords I turned again, and Robert's eyes met mine,--those melancholy eyes, so full of an intelligencethat proved he had heard, remembered, and reflectedwith that preternatural power which oftenoutlives all other faculties. He knew me, yetgave no greeting; was glad to see a woman's face,yet had no smile wherewith to welcome it; feltthat he was dying, yet uttered no farewell. Hewas too far across the river to return or lingernow; departing thought, strength, breath, werespent in one grateful look, one murmur of submissionto the last pang he could ever feel. His lipsmoved, and, bending to them, a whisper chilledmy cheek, as it shaped the broken words,--
"I would have done it,--but it 's better so,--I'm satisfied."
Ah! well he might be,--for, as he turned his facefrom the shadow of the life that was, the sunshineof the life to be touched it with a beautifulcontent, and in the drawing of a breath mycontraband found wife and home, eternal libertyand God.