一双蓝眼睛 英文版 A Pair of Blue Eyes
托马斯.哈代 Thomas Hardy
Chapter XVIII Page 1
'He heard her musical pants.'
The old tower of West Endelstow Church had reached the last weeksof its existence. It was to be replaced by a new one from thedesigns of Mr. Hewby, the architect who had sent down Stephen.Planks and poles had arrived in the churchyard, iron bars had beenthrust into the venerable crack extending down the belfry wall tothe foundation, the bells had been taken down, the owls hadforsaken this home of their forefathers, and six iconoclasts inwhite fustian, to whom a cracked edifice was a species of MumboJumbo, had taken lodgings in the village previous to beginning theactual removal of the stones.
This was the day after Knight's arrival. To enjoy for the lasttime the prospect seaward from the summit, the vicar, Mrs.Swancourt, Knight, and Elfride, all ascended the winding turret--Mr. Swancourt stepping forward with many loud breaths, his wifestruggling along silently, but suffering none the less. They hadhardly reached the top when a large lurid cloud, palpably areservoir of rain, thunder, and lightning, was seen to beadvancing overhead from the north.
The two cautious elders suggested an immediate return, andproceeded to put it in practice as regarded themselves.
'Dear me, I wish I had not come up,' exclaimed Mrs. Swancourt.
'We shall be slower than you two in going down,' the vicar saidover his shoulder, 'and so, don't you start till we are nearly atthe bottom, or you will run over us and break our necks somewherein the darkness of the turret.'
Accordingly Elfride and Knight waited on the leads till thestaircase should be clear. Knight was not in a talkative moodthat morning. Elfride was rather wilful, by reason of hisinattention, which she privately set down to his thinking her notworth talking to. Whilst Knight stood watching the rise of thecloud, she sauntered to the other side of the tower, and thereremembered a giddy feat she had performed the year before. It wasto walk round upon the parapet of the tower--which was quitewithout battlement or pinnacle, and presented a smooth flatsurface about two feet wide, forming a pathway on all the foursides. Without reflecting in the least upon what she was doingshe now stepped upon the parapet in the old way, and began walkingalong.
'We are down, cousin Henry,' cried Mrs. Swancourt up the turret.'Follow us when you like.'
Knight turned and saw Elfride beginning her elevated promenade.His face flushed with mingled concern and anger at her rashness.
'I certainly gave you credit for more common sense,' he said.
She reddened a little and walked on.
'Miss Swancourt, I insist upon your coming down,' he exclaimed.
'I will in a minute. I am safe enough. I have done it often.'
At that moment, by reason of a slight perturbation his words hadcaused in her, Elfride's foot caught itself in a little tuft ofgrass growing in a joint of the stone-work, and she almost losther balance. Knight sprang forward with a face of horror. Bywhat seemed the special interposition of a considerate Providenceshe tottered to the inner edge of the parapet instead of to theouter, and reeled over upon the lead roof two or three feet belowthe wall.
Knight seized her as in a vice, and he said, panting, 'That ever Ishould have met a woman fool enough to do a thing of that kind!Good God, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!'
The close proximity of the Shadow of Death had made her sick andpale as a corpse before he spoke. Already lowered to that state,his words completely over-powered her, and she swooned away as heheld her.
Elfride's eyes were not closed for more than forty seconds. Sheopened them, and remembered the position instantly. His face hadaltered its expression from stern anger to pity. But his severeremarks had rather frightened her, and she struggled to be free.
'If you can stand, of course you may,' he said, and loosened hisarms. 'I hardly know whether most to laugh at your freak or tochide you for its folly.'
She immediately sank upon the lead-work. Knight lifted her again.'Are you hurt?' he said.
She murmured an incoherent expression, and tried to smile; saying,with a fitful aversion of her face, 'I am only frightened. Put medown, do put me down!'
'But you can't walk,' said Knight.
'You don't know that; how can you? I am only frightened, I tellyou,' she answered petulantly, and raised her hand to herforehead. Knight then saw that she was bleeding from a severe cutin her wrist, apparently where it had descended upon a salientcorner of the lead-work. Elfride, too, seemed to perceive andfeel this now for the first time, and for a minute nearly lostconsciousness again. Knight rapidly bound his handkerchief roundthe place, and to add to the complication, the thundercloud he hadbeen watching began to shed some heavy drops of rain. Knightlooked up and saw the vicar striding towards the house, and Mrs.Swancourt waddling beside him like a hard-driven duck.
'As you are so faint, it will be much better to let me carry youdown,' said Knight; 'or at any rate inside out of the rain.' Buther objection to be lifted made it impossible for him to supporther for more than five steps.
'This is folly, great folly,' he exclaimed, setting her down.
'Indeed!' she murmured, with tears in her eyes. 'I say I will notbe carried, and you say this is folly!'
'So it is.'
'No, it isn't!'
'It is folly, I think. At any rate, the origin of it all is.'
'I don't agree to it. And you needn't get so angry with me; I amnot worth it.'
'Indeed you are. You are worth the enmity of princes, as was saidof such another. Now, then, will you clasp your hands behind myneck, that I may carry you down without hurting you?'
'No, no.'
'You had better, or I shall foreclose.'
'What's that!'
'Deprive you of your chance.'
Elfride gave a little toss.
'Now, don't writhe so when I attempt to carry you.'
'I can't help it.'
'Then submit quietly.'
Deprive you of your chance.'mind is now.
'I don't care. I don't care,' she murmured in languid tones andwith closed eyes.
He took her into his arms, entered the turret, and with slow andcautious steps descended round and round. Then, with thegentleness of a nursing mother, he attended to the cut on her arm.During his progress through the operations of wiping it andbinding it up anew, her face changed its aspect from painedindifference to something like bashful interest, interspersed withsmall tremors and shudders of a trifling kind.
Elfride beginning .
In the centre of each pale cheek a small red spot the size of awafer had now made its appearance, and continued to grow larger.Elfride momentarily expected a recurrence to the lecture on herfoolishness, but Knight said no more than this--
'Promise me NEVER to walk on that parapet again.'
'It will be pulled down soon: so I do.' In a few minutes shecontinued in a lower tone, and seriously, 'You are familiar ofcourse, as everybody is, with those strange sensations wesometimes have, that our life for the moment exists in duplicate.'
'That we have lived through that moment before?'
'Or shall again. Well, I felt on the tower that something similarto that scene is again to be common to us both.'
'God forbid!' said Knight. 'Promise me that you will never againwalk on any such place on any consideration.'
'I do.'
'That such a thing has not been before, we know. That it shallnot be again, you vow. Therefore think no more of such a foolishfancy.'
There had fallen a great deal of rain, but unaccompanied bylightning. A few minutes longer, and the storm had ceased.
'Now, take my arm, please.'
'Oh no, it is not necessary.' This relapse into wilfulness wasbecause he had again connected the epithet foolish with her.
'Nonsense: it is quite necessary; it will rain again directly, andyou are not half recovered.' And without more ado Knight took herhand, drew it under his arm, and held it there so firmly that shecould not have removed it without a struggle. Feeling like a coltin a halter for the first time, at thus being led along, yetafraid to be angry, it was to her great relief that she saw thecarriage coming round the corner to fetch them.
Her fall upon the roof was necessarily explained to some extentupon their entering the house; but both forbore to mention a wordof what she had been doing to cause such an accident. During theremainder of the afternoon Elfride was invisible; but at dinner-time she appeared as bright as ever.
In the drawing-room, after having been exclusively engaged withMr. and Mrs. Swancourt through the intervening hour, Knight againfound himself thrown with Elfride. She had been looking over achess problem in one of the illustrated periodicals.
'You like chess, Miss Swancourt?'
'Yes. It is my favourite scientific game; indeed, excludes everyother. Do you play?'
'I have played; though not lately.'
'Challenge him, Elfride,' said the vicar heartily. 'She playsvery well for a lady, Mr. Knight.'
'Shall we play?' asked Elfride tentatively.
'Oh, certainly. I shall be delighted.'
The game began. Mr. Swancourt had forgotten a similar performancewith Stephen Smith the year before. Elfride had not; but she hadbegun to take for her maxim the undoubted truth that the necessityof continuing faithful to Stephen, without suspicion, dictated afickle behaviour almost as imperatively as fickleness itself; afact, however, which would give a startling advantage to thelatter quality should it ever appear.
Knight, by one of those inexcusable oversights which willsometimes afflict the best of players, placed his rook in the armsof one of her pawns. It was her first advantage. She lookedtriumphant--even ruthless.
'By George! what was I thinking of?' said Knight quietly; and thendismissed all concern at his accident.
'Club laws we'll have, won't we, Mr. Knight?' said Elfridesuasively.
'Oh yes, certainly,' said Mr. Knight, a thought, however, justoccurring to his mind, that he had two or three times allowed herto replace a man on her religiously assuring him that such a movewas an absolute blunder.
She immediately took up the unfortunate rook and the contestproceeded, Elfride having now rather the better of the game. Thenhe won the exchange, regained his position, and began to press herhard. Elfride grew flurried, and placed her queen on hisremaining rook's file.
'There--how stupid! Upon my word, I did not see your rook. Ofcourse nobody but a fool would have put a queen there knowingly!'
She spoke excitedly, half expecting her antagonist to give herback the move.
'Nobody, of course,' said Knight serenely, and stretched out hishand towards his royal victim.
know whether most to laugh at your.
'It is not very pleasant to have it taken advantage of, then,' shesaid with some vexation.
'Club laws, I think you said?' returned Knight blandly, andmercilessly appropriating the queen.
She was on the brink of pouting, but was ashamed to show it; tearsalmost stood in her eyes. She had been trying so hard--so veryhard--thinking and thinking till her brain was in a whirl; and itseemed so heartless of him to treat her so, after all.
'I think it is----' she began.
'What?'
'I lost my rook by even a purer mistake,' said the enemy in aninexorable tone, without lifting his eyes.
'Yes, but----' However, as his logic was absolutely unanswerable,she merely registered a protest. 'I cannot endure those cold-blooded ways of clubs and professional players, like Staunton andMorphy. Just as if it really mattered whether you have raisedyour fingers from a man or no!'
Knight smiled as pitilessly as before, and they went on insilence.
'Checkmate,' said Knight.
'Another game,' said Elfride peremptorily, and looking very warm.
'With all my heart,' said Knight.
before he spoke.
'Checkmate,' said Knight again at the end of forty minutes.
'Another game,' she returned resolutely.
'I'll give you the odds of a bishop,' Knight said to her kindly.
'No, thank you,' Elfride replied in a tone intended for courteousindifference; but, as a fact, very cavalier indeed.
'Checkmate,' said her opponent without the least emotion.
Oh, the difference between Elfride's condition of mind now, andwhen she purposely made blunders that Stephen Smith might win!
It was bedtime. Her mind as distracted as if it would throbitself out of her head, she went off to her chamber, full ofmortification at being beaten time after time when she herself wasthe aggressor. Having for two or three years enjoyed thereputation throughout the globe of her father's brain--whichalmost constituted her entire world--of being an excellent player,this fiasco was intolerable; for unfortunately the person mostdogged in the belief in a false reputation is always that one, thepossessor, who has the best means of knowing that it is not true.
In bed no sleep came to soothe her; that gentle thing being thevery middle-of-summer friend in this respect of flying away at themerest troublous cloud. After lying awake till two o'clock anidea seemed to strike her. She softly arose, got a light, andfetched a Chess Praxis from the library. Returning and sitting upin bed, she diligently studied the volume till the clock struckfive, and her eyelids felt thick and heavy. She then extinguishedthe light and lay down again.
'You look pale, Elfride,' said Mrs. Swancourt the next morning atbreakfast. 'Isn't she, cousin Harry?'
A young girl who is scarcely ill at all can hardly help becomingso when regarded as such by all eyes turning upon her at the tablein obedience to some remark. Everybody looked at Elfride. Shecertainly was pale.
'Am I pale?' she said with a faint smile. 'I did not sleep much.I could not get rid of armies of bishops and knights, try how Iwould.'
'Chess is a bad thing just before bedtime; especially forexcitable people like yourself, dear. Don't ever play lateagain.'
'I'll play early instead. Cousin Knight,' she said in imitationof Mrs. Swancourt, 'will you oblige me in something?'
'Even to half my kingdom.'
'Well, it is to play one game more.'
'When?'
'Now, instantly; the moment we have breakfasted.'
'Nonsense, Elfride,' said her father. 'Making yourself a slave tothe game like that.'
'But I want to, papa! Honestly, I am restless at having been soignominiously overcome. And Mr. Knight doesn't mind. So whatharm can there be?'
'Let us play, by all means, if you wish it,' said Knight.
So, when breakfast was over, the combatants withdrew to the quietof the library, and the door was closed. Elfride seemed to havean idea that her conduct was rather ill-regulated and startlinglyfree from conventional restraint. And worse, she fancied uponKnight's face a slightly amused look at her proceedings.
'Certainly: nothing more natural. Though I am afraid it is notthe plan adopted by women of the world after a defeat.'
'Why, pray?'
'Because they know that as good as overcoming is skill in effacingrecollection of being overcome, and turn their attention to thatentirely.'
'I am wrong again, of course.'
'Perhaps your wrong is more pleasing than their right.'
'I don't quite know whether you mean that, or whether you arelaughing at me,' she said, looking doubtingly at him, yetinclining to accept the more flattering interpretation. 'I amalmost sure you think it vanity in me to think I am a match foryou. Well, if you do, I say that vanity is no crime in such acase.'
'Well, perhaps not. Though it is hardly a virtue.'
'Oh yes, in battle! Nelson's bravery lay in his vanity.'
'Indeed! Then so did his death.'
Oh no, no! For it is written in the book of the prophetShakespeare--
"Fear and be slain? no worse can come to fight;And fight and die, is death destroying death!"
And down they sat, and the contest began, Elfride having the firstmove. The game progressed. Elfride's heart beat so violentlythat she could not sit still. Her dread was lest he should hearit. And he did discover it at last--some flowers upon the tablebeing set throbbing by its pulsations.
'I think we had better give over,' said Knight, looking at hergently. 'It is too much for you, I know. Let us write down theposition, and finish another time.'
'No, please not,' she implored. 'I should not rest if I did notknow the result at once. It is your move.'
Ten minutes passed.
She started up suddenly. 'I know what you are doing?' she cried,an angry colour upon her cheeks, and her eyes indignant. 'Youwere thinking of letting me win to please me!'
'I don't mind owning that I was,' Knight responded phlegmatically,and appearing all the more so by contrast with her own turmoil.
'But you must not! I won't have it.'
'Very well.'
'No, that will not do; I insist that you promise not to do anysuch absurd thing. It is insulting me!'
'Very well, madam. I won't do any such absurd thing. You shallnot win.'
'That is to be proved!' she returned proudly; and the play wenton.
Nothing is now heard but the ticking of a quaint old timepiece onthe summit of a bookcase. Ten minutes pass; he captures herknight; she takes his knight, and looks a very Rhadamanthus.
More minutes tick away; she takes his pawn and has the advantage,showing her sense of it rather prominently.
Five minutes more: he takes her bishop: she brings things even bytaking his knight.
Three minutes: she looks bold, and takes his queen: he looksplacid, and takes hers.
Eight or ten minutes pass: he takes a pawn; she utters a littlepooh! but not the ghost of a pawn can she take in retaliation.
Ten minutes pass: he takes another pawn and says, 'Check!' Sheflushes, extricates herself by capturing his bishop, and lookstriumphant. He immediately takes her bishop: she looks surprised.
Five minutes longer: she makes a dash and takes his only remainingbishop; he replies by taking her only remaining knight.
Two minutes: he gives check; her mind is now in a painful state oftension, and she shades her face with her hand.
Yet a few minutes more: he takes her rook and checks again. Sheliterally trembles now lest an artful surprise she has in storefor him shall be anticipated by the artful surprise he evidentlyhas in store for her.
Five minutes: 'Checkmate in two moves!' exclaims Elfride.
'If you can,' says Knight.
'Oh, I have miscalculated; that is cruel!'
'Checkmate,' says Knight; and the victory is won.
Elfride arose and turned away without letting him see her face.Once in the hall she ran upstairs and into her room, and flungherself down upon her bed, weeping bitterly.
Knight listened anxiously for the answer. He had been hoping tosee her again before this time.
'She isn't well, sir,' was the reply.
Mrs. Swancourt rose and left the room, going upstairs to Elfride'sapartment.
At the door was Unity, who occupied in the new establishment aposition between young lady's maid and middle-housemaid.