一双蓝眼睛 英文版 A Pair of Blue Eyes
托马斯.哈代 Thomas Hardy
Chapter XXIV
'Breeze, bird, and flower confess the hour.'
The rain had ceased since the sunset, but it was a cloudy night;and the light of the moon, softened and dispersed by its mistyveil, was distributed over the land in pale gray.
A dark figure stepped from the doorway of John Smith's river-sidecottage, and strode rapidly towards West Endelstow with a lightfootstep. Soon ascending from the lower levels he turned acorner, followed a cart-track, and saw the tower of the church hewas in quest of distinctly shaped forth against the sky. In lessthan half an hour from the time of starting he swung himself overthe churchyard stile.
The wild irregular enclosure was as much as ever an integral partof the old hill. The grass was still long, the graves were shapedprecisely as passing years chose to alter them from their orthodoxform as laid down by Martin Cannister, and by Stephen's owngrandfather before him.
A sound sped into the air from the direction in which CastleBoterel lay. It was the striking of the church clock, distinct inthe still atmosphere as if it had come from the tower hard by,which, wrapt in its solitary silentness, gave out no such soundsof life.
'One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine.' Stephencarefully counted the strokes, though he well knew their numberbeforehand. Nine o'clock. It was the hour Elfride had herselfnamed as the most convenient for meeting him.
Stephen stood at the door of the porch and listened. He couldhave heard the softest breathing of any person within the porch;nobody was there. He went inside the doorway, sat down upon thestone bench, and waited with a beating heart.
The faint sounds heard only accentuated the silence. The risingand falling of the sea, far away along the coast, was the mostimportant. A minor sound was the scurr of a distant night-hawk.Among the minutest where all were minute were the light settlementof gossamer fragments floating in the air, a toad humbly labouringalong through the grass near the entrance, the crackle of a deadleaf which a worm was endeavouring to pull into the earth, a waftof air, getting nearer and nearer, and expiring at his feet underthe burden of a winged seed.
Among all these soft sounds came not the only soft sound he caredto hear--the footfall of Elfride.
For a whole quarter of an hour Stephen sat thus intent, withoutmoving a muscle. At the end of that time he walked to the westfront of the church. Turning the corner of the tower, a whiteform stared him in the face. He started back, and recoveredhimself. It was the tomb of young farmer Jethway, looking stillas fresh and as new as when it was first erected, the white stonein which it was hewn having a singular weirdness amid the darkblue slabs from local quarries, of which the whole remaininggravestones were formed.
He thought of the night when he had sat thereon with Elfride ashis companion, and well remembered his regret that she hadreceived, even unwillingly, earlier homage than his own. But hispresent tangible anxiety reduced such a feeling to sentimentalnonsense in comparison; and he strolled on over the graves to theborder of the churchyard, whence in the daytime could be clearlyseen the vicarage and the present residence of the Swancourts. Nofootstep was discernible upon the path up the hill, but a lightwas shining from a window in the last-named house.
Stephen knew there could be no mistake about the time or place,and no difficulty about keeping the engagement. He waited yetlonger, passing from impatience into a mood which failed to takeany account of the lapse of time. He was awakened from hisreverie by Castle Boterel clock.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, TEN .
One little fall of the hammer in addition to the number it hadbeen sharp pleasure to hear, and what a difference to him!
He left the churchyard on the side opposite to his point ofentrance, and went down the hill. Slowly he drew near the gate ofher house. This he softly opened, and walked up the gravel driveto the door. Here he paused for several minutes.
At the expiration of that time the murmured speech of a manlyvoice came out to his ears through an open window behind thecorner of the house. This was responded to by a clear soft laugh.It was the laugh of Elfride.
Stephen was conscious of a gnawing pain at his heart. Heretreated as he had come. There are disappointments which wringus, and there are those which inflict a wound whose mark we bearto our graves. Such are so keen that no future gratification ofthe same desire can ever obliterate them: they become registeredas a permanent loss of happiness. Such a one was Stephen's now:the crowning aureola of the dream had been the meeting here bystealth; and if Elfride had come to him only ten minutes after hehad turned away, the disappointment would have been recognizablestill.
When the young man reached home he found there a letter which hadarrived in his absence. Believing it to contain some reason forher non-appearance, yet unable to imagine one that could justifyher, he hastily tore open the envelope.
The paper contained not a word from Elfride. It was the deposit-note for his two hundred pounds. On the back was the form of acheque, and this she had filled up with the same sum, payable tothe bearer.
Stephen was confounded. He attempted to divine her motive.Considering how limited was his knowledge of her later actions, heguessed rather shrewdly that, between the time of her sending thenote in the morning and the evening's silent refusal of his gift,something had occurred which had caused a total change in herattitude towards him.
He knew not what to do. It seemed absurd now to go to her fathernext morning, as he had purposed, and ask for an engagement withher, a possibility impending all the while that Elfride herselfwould not be on his side. Only one course recommended itself aswise. To wait and see what the days would bring forth; to go andexecute his commissions in Birmingham; then to return, learn ifanything had happened, and try what a meeting might do; perhapsher surprise at his backwardness would bring her forward to showlatent warmth as decidedly as in old times.
This act of patience was in keeping only with the nature of a manprecisely of Stephen's constitution. Nine men out of ten wouldperhaps have rushed off, got into her presence, by fair means orfoul, and provoked a catastrophe of some sort. Possibly for thebetter, probably for the worse.
return, learn ifanything had happened, and try what a meeting might do; perhapsher.
He started for Birmingham the next morning. A day's delay wouldhave made no difference; but he could not rest until he had begunand ended the programme proposed to himself. Bodily activity willsometimes take the sting out of anxiety as completely as assuranceitself.