一双蓝眼睛 英文版 A Pair of Blue Eyes
托马斯.哈代 Thomas Hardy
Chapter XX Page 1
'A distant dearness in the hill.'
Knight turned his back upon the parish of Endelstow, and crossedover to Cork.
One day of absence superimposed itself on another, andproportionately weighted his heart. He pushed on to the Lakes ofKillarney, rambled amid their luxuriant woods, surveyed theinfinite variety of island, hill, and dale there to be found,listened to the marvellous echoes of that romantic spot; butaltogether missed the glory and the dream he formerly found insuch favoured regions.
Whilst in the company of Elfride, her girlish presence had notperceptibly affected him to any depth. He had not been consciousthat her entry into his sphere had added anything to himself; butnow that she was taken away he was very conscious of a great dealbeing abstracted. The superfluity had become a necessity, andKnight was in love.
Stephen fell in love with Elfride by looking at her: Knight byceasing to do so. When or how the spirit entered into him he knewnot: certain he was that when on the point of leaving Endelstow hehad felt none of that exquisite nicety of poignant sadness naturalto such severances, seeing how delightful a subject ofcontemplation Elfride had been ever since. Had he begun to loveher when she met his eye after her mishap on the tower? He hadsimply thought her weak. Had he grown to love her whilst standingon the lawn brightened all over by the evening sun? He had thoughther complexion good: no more. Was it her conversation that hadsown the seed? He had thought her words ingenious, and verycreditable to a young woman, but not noteworthy. Had the chess-playing anything to do with it? Certainly not: he had thought herat that time a rather conceited child.
Knight's experience was a complete disproof of the assumption thatlove always comes by glances of the eye and sympathetic touches ofthe fingers: that, like flame, it makes itself palpable at themoment of generation. Not till they were parted, and she hadbecome sublimated in his memory, could he be said to have evenattentively regarded her.
Thus, having passively gathered up images of her which his minddid not act upon till the cause of them was no longer before him,he appeared to himself to have fallen in love with her soul, whichhad temporarily assumed its disembodiment to accompany him on hisway.
She began to rule him so imperiously now that, accustomed toanalysis, he almost trembled at the possible result of theintroduction of this new force among the nicely adjusted ones ofhis ordinary life. He became restless: then he forgot allcollateral subjects in the pleasure of thinking about her.
Yet it must be said that Knight loved philosophically rather thanwith romance.
He thought of her manner towards him. Simplicity verges oncoquetry. Was she flirting? he said to himself. No forcibletranslation of favour into suspicion was able to uphold such atheory. The performance had been too well done to be anything butreal. It had the defects without which nothing is genuine. Noactress of twenty years' standing, no bald-necked lady whoseearliest season 'out' was lost in the discreet mist of evasivetalk, could have played before him the part of ingenuous girl asElfride lived it. She had the little artful ways which partlymake up ingenuousness.
There are bachelors by nature and bachelors by circumstance:spinsters there doubtless are also of both kinds, though somethink only those of the latter. However, Knight had been lookedupon as a bachelor by nature. What was he coming to? It was veryodd to himself to look at his theories on the subject of love, andreading them now by the full light of a new experience, to see howmuch more his sentences meant than he had felt them to mean whenthey were written. People often discover the real force of atrite old maxim only when it is thrust upon them by a chanceadventure; but Knight had never before known the case of a man wholearnt the full compass of his own epigrams by such means.
He was intensely satisfied with one aspect of the affair. Inbredin him was an invincible objection to be any but the first comerin a woman's heart. He had discovered within himself thecondition that if ever he did make up his mind to marry, it mustbe on the certainty that no cropping out of inconvenient oldletters, no bow and blush to a mysterious stranger casually met,should be a possible source of discomposure. Knight's sentimentswere only the ordinary ones of a man of his age who lovesgenuinely, perhaps exaggerated a little by his pursuits. When menfirst love as lads, it is with the very centre of their hearts,nothing else being concerned in the operation. With added years,more of the faculties attempt a partnership in the passion, tillat Knight's age the understanding is fain to have a hand in it.It may as well be left out. A man in love setting up his brainsas a gauge of his position is as one determining a ship'slongitude from a light at the mast-head.
Knight argued from Elfride's unwontedness of manner, which wasmatter of fact, to an unwontedness in love, which was matter ofinference only. Incredules les plus credules. 'Elfride,' hesaid, 'had hardly looked upon a man till she saw me.'
He had never forgotten his severity to her because she preferredornament to edification, and had since excused her a hundred timesby thinking how natural to womankind was a love of adornment, andhow necessary became a mild infusion of personal vanity tocomplete the delicate and fascinating dye of the feminine mind.So at the end of the week's absence, which had brought him as faras Dublin, he resolved to curtail his tour, return to Endelstow,and commit himself by making a reality of the hypothetical offerof that Sunday evening.
Notwithstanding that he had concocted a great deal of paper theoryon social amenities and modern manners generally, the specialounce of practice was wanting, and now for his life Knight couldnot recollect whether it was considered correct to give a younglady personal ornaments before a regular engagement to marry hadbeen initiated. But the day before leaving Dublin he lookedaround anxiously for a high-class jewellery establishment, inwhich he purchased what he considered would suit her best.
It was with a most awkward and unwonted feeling that afterentering and closing the door of his room he sat down, opened themorocco case, and held up each of the fragile bits of gold-workbefore his eyes. Many things had become old to the solitary manof letters, but these were new, and he handled like a child anoutcome of civilization which had never before been touched by hisfingers. A sudden fastidious decision that the pattern chosenwould not suit her after all caused him to rise in a flurry andtear down the street to change them for others. After a greatdeal of trouble in reselecting, during which his mind became sobewildered that the critical faculty on objects of art seemed tohave vacated his person altogether, Knight carried off anotherpair of ear-rings. These remained in his possession till theafternoon, when, after contemplating them fifty times with agrowing misgiving that the last choice was worse than the first,he felt that no sleep would visit his pillow till he had improvedupon his previous purchases yet again. In a perfect heat ofvexation with himself for such tergiversation, he went anew to theshop-door, was absolutely ashamed to enter and give furthertrouble, went to another shop, bought a pair at an enormouslyincreased price, because they seemed the very thing, asked thegoldsmiths if they would take the other pair in exchange, was toldthat they could not exchange articles bought of another maker,paid down the money, and went off with the two pairs in hispossession, wondering what on earth to do with the superfluouspair. He almost wished he could lose them, or that somebody wouldsteal them, and was burdened with an interposing sense that, as acapable man, with true ideas of economy, he must necessarily sellthem somewhere, which he did at last for a mere song. Mingledwith a blank feeling of a whole day being lost to him in runningabout the city on this new and extraordinary class of errand, andof several pounds being lost through his bungling, was a slightsense of satisfaction that he had emerged for ever from hisantediluvian ignorance on the subject of ladies' jewellery, aswell as secured a truly artistic production at last. During theremainder of that day he scanned the ornaments of every lady hemet with the profoundly experienced eye of an appraiser.
Next morning Knight was again crossing St. George's Channel--notreturning to London by the Holyhead route as he had originallyintended, but towards Bristol--availing himself of Mr. and Mrs.Swancourt's invitation to revisit them on his homeward journey.
We flit forward to Elfride.
Woman's ruling passion--to fascinate and influence those morepowerful than she--though operant in Elfride, was decidedlypurposeless. She had wanted her friend Knight's good opinion fromthe first: how much more than that elementary ingredient offriendship she now desired, her fears would hardly allow her tothink. In originally wishing to please the highest class of manshe had ever intimately known, there was no disloyalty to StephenSmith. She could not--and few women can--realize the possiblevastness of an issue which has only an insignificant begetting.
Her letters from Stephen were necessarily few, and her sense offidelity clung to the last she had received as a wrecked marinerclings to flotsam. The young girl persuaded herself that she wasglad Stephen had such a right to her hand as he had acquired (inher eyes) by the elopement. She beguiled herself by saying,'Perhaps if I had not so committed myself I might fall in lovewith Mr. Knight.'
All this made the week of Knight's absence very gloomy anddistasteful to her. She retained Stephen in her prayers, and hisold letters were re-read--as a medicine in reality, though shedeceived herself into the belief that it was as a pleasure.
These letters had grown more and more hopeful. He told her thathe finished his work every day with a pleasant consciousness ofhaving removed one more stone from the barrier which divided them.Then he drew images of what a fine figure they two would cut someday. People would turn their heads and say, 'What a prize he haswon!' She was not to be sad about that wild runaway attempt oftheirs (Elfride had repeatedly said that it grieved her).Whatever any other person who knew of it might think, he knew wellenough the modesty of her nature. The only reproach was a gentleone for not having written quite so devotedly during her visit toLondon. Her letter had seemed to have a liveliness derived fromother thoughts than thoughts of him.
Knight's intention of an early return to Endelstow havingoriginally been faint, his promise to do so had been fainter. Hewas a man who kept his words well to the rear of his possibleactions. The vicar was rather surprised to see him again so soon:Mrs. Swancourt was not. Knight found, on meeting them all, afterhis arrival had been announced, that they had formed an intentionto go to St. Leonards for a few days at the end of the month.
No satisfactory conjuncture offered itself on this first eveningof his return for presenting Elfride with what he had been at suchpains to procure. He was fastidious in his reading ofopportunities for such an intended act. The next morning chancingto break fine after a week of cloudy weather, it was proposed anddecided that they should all drive to Barwith Strand, a local lionwhich neither Mrs. Swancourt nor Knight had seen. Knight scentedromantic occasions from afar, and foresaw that such a one might beexpected before the coming night.
The journey was along a road by neutral green hills, upon whichhedgerows lay trailing like ropes on a quay. Gaps in theseuplands revealed the blue sea, flecked with a few dashes of whiteand a solitary white sail, the whole brimming up to a keen horizonwhich lay like a line ruled from hillside to hillside. Then theyrolled down a pass, the chocolate-toned rocks forming a wall onboth sides, from one of which fell a heavy jagged shade over halfthe roadway. A spout of fresh water burst from an occasionalcrevice, and pattering down upon broad green leaves, ran along asa rivulet at the bottom. Unkempt locks of heather overhung thebrow of each steep, whence at divers points a bramble swung forthinto mid-air, snatching at their head-dresses like a claw.
They mounted the last crest, and the bay which was to be the endof their pilgrimage burst upon them. The ocean blueness deepenedits colour as it stretched to the foot of the crags, where itterminated in a fringe of white--silent at this distance, thoughmoving and heaving like a counterpane upon a restless sleeper.The shadowed hollows of the purple and brown rocks would have beencalled blue had not that tint been so entirely appropriated by thewater beside them.
The carriage was put up at a little cottage with a shed attached,and an ostler and the coachman carried the hamper of provisionsdown to the shore.
Knight found his opportunity. 'I did not forget your wish,' hebegan, when they were apart from their friends.
Elfride looked as if she did not understand.
'And I have brought you these,' he continued, awkwardly pullingout the case, and opening it while holding it towards her.
'O Mr. Knight!' said Elfride confusedly, and turning to a livelyred; 'I didn't know you had any intention or meaning in what yousaid. I thought it a mere supposition. I don't want them.'
A thought which had flashed into her mind gave the reply a greaterdecisiveness than it might otherwise have possessed. To-morrowwas the day for Stephen's letter.
'But will you not accept them?' Knight returned, feeling less hermaster than heretofore.
'I would rather not. They are beautiful--more beautiful than anyI have ever seen,' she answered earnestly, looking half-wishfullyat the temptation, as Eve may have looked at the apple. 'But Idon't want to have them, if you will kindly forgive me, Mr.Knight.'
'No kindness at all,' said Mr. Knight, brought to a full stop atthis unexpected turn of events.
A silence followed. Knight held the open case, looking ratherwofully at the glittering forms he had forsaken his orbit toprocure; turning it about and holding it up as if, feeling hisgift to be slighted by her, he were endeavouring to admire it verymuch himself.
'Shut them up, and don't let me see them any longer--do!' she saidlaughingly, and with a quaint mixture of reluctance and entreaty.
'Why, Elfie?'
'Not Elfie to you, Mr. Knight. Oh, because I shall want them.There, I am silly, I know, to say that! But I have a reason fornot taking them--now.' She kept in the last word for a moment,intending to imply that her refusal was finite, but somehow theword slipped out, and undid all the rest.
'You will take them some day?'
'I don't want to.'
'Why don't you want to, Elfride Swancourt?'
'Because I don't. I don't like to take them.'
'I have read a fact of distressing significance in that,' saidKnight. 'Since you like them, your dislike to having them must betowards me?'
'No, it isn't.'
'What, then? Do you like me?'
Elfride deepened in tint, and looked into the distance withfeatures shaped to an expression of the nicest criticism asregarded her answer.
'I like you pretty well,' she at length murmured mildly.
'Not very much?'
'You are so sharp with me, and say hard things, and so how can I?'she replied evasively.
'You think me a fogey, I suppose?'
'No, I don't--I mean I do--I don't know what I think you, I mean.Let us go to papa,' responded Elfride, with somewhat of a flurrieddelivery.
'Well, I'll tell you my object in getting the present,' saidKnight, with a composure intended to remove from her mind anypossible impression of his being what he was--her lover. 'You seeit was the very least I could do in common civility.'
Elfride felt rather blank at this lucid statement.
Knight continued, putting away the case: 'I felt as anybodynaturally would have, you know, that my words on your choice theother day were invidious and unfair, and thought an apology shouldtake a practical shape.'
'Oh yes.'
Elfride was sorry--she could not tell why--that he gave such alegitimate reason. It was a disappointment that he had all thetime a cool motive, which might be stated to anybody withoutraising a smile. Had she known they were offered in that spirit,she would certainly have accepted the seductive gift. And thetantalizing feature was that perhaps he suspected her to imaginethem offered as a lover's token, which was mortifying enough ifthey were not.
Mrs. Swancourt came now to where they were sitting, to select aflat boulder for spreading their table-cloth upon, and, amid thediscussion on that subject, the matter pending between Knight andElfride was shelved for a while. He read her refusal so certainlyas the bashfulness of a girl in a novel position, that, upon thewhole, he could tolerate such a beginning. Could Knight have beentold that it was a sense of fidelity struggling against new love,whilst no less assuring as to his ultimate victory, it might haveentirely abstracted the wish to secure it.
At the same time a slight constraint of manner was visible betweenthem for the remainder of the afternoon. The tide turned, andthey were obliged to ascend to higher ground. The day glided onto its end with the usual quiet dreamy passivity of suchoccasions--when every deed done and thing thought is inendeavouring to avoid doing and thinking more. Looking idly overthe verge of a crag, they beheld their stone dining-tablegradually being splashed upon and their crumbs and fragments allwashed away by the incoming sea. The vicar drew a moral lessonfrom the scene; Knight replied in the same satisfied strain. Andthen the waves rolled in furiously--the neutral green-and-bluetongues of water slid up the slopes, and were metamorphosed intofoam by a careless blow, falling back white and faint, and leavingtrailing followers behind.
The passing of a heavy shower was the next scene--driving them toshelter in a shallow cave--after which the horses were put in, andthey started to return homeward. By the time they reached thehigher levels the sky had again cleared, and the sunset raysglanced directly upon the wet uphill road they had climbed. Theruts formed by their carriage-wheels on the ascent--a pair ofLiliputian canals--were as shining bars of gold, tapering tonothing in the distance. Upon this also they turned their backs,and night spread over the sea.
The evening was chilly, and there was no moon. Knight sat closeto Elfride, and, when the darkness rendered the position of aperson a matter of uncertainty, particularly close. Elfride edgedaway.
'I hope you allow me my place ungrudgingly?' he whispered.
'Oh yes; 'tis the least I can do in common civility,' she said,accenting the words so that he might recognize them as his ownreturned.