一双蓝眼睛 英文版 A Pair of Blue Eyes
托马斯.哈代 Thomas Hardy
Chapter XXIX Page 1
'Care, thou canker.'
It is an evening at the beginning of October, and the mellowest ofautumn sunsets irradiates London, even to its uttermost easternend. Between the eye and the flaming West, columns of smoke standup in the still air like tall trees. Everything in the shade isrich and misty blue.
Mr. and Mrs. Swancourt and Elfride are looking at these lustrousand lurid contrasts from the window of a large hotel near LondonBridge. The visit to their friends at St. Leonards is over, andthey are staying a day or two in the metropolis on their way home.
Knight spent the same interval of time in crossing over toBrittany by way of Jersey and St. Malo. He then passed throughNormandy, and returned to London also, his arrival there havingbeen two days later than that of Elfride and her parents.
So the evening of this October day saw them all meeting at theabove-mentioned hotel, where they had previously engagedapartments. During the afternoon Knight had been to his lodgingsat Richmond to make a little change in the nature of his baggage;and on coming up again there was never ushered by a bland waiterinto a comfortable room a happier man than Knight when shown towhere Elfride and her step-mother were sitting after a fatiguingday of shopping.
Elfride looked none the better for her change: Knight was as brownas a nut. They were soon engaged by themselves in a corner of theroom. Now that the precious words of promise had been spoken, theyoung girl had no idea of keeping up her price by the system ofreserve which other more accomplished maidens use. Her lover waswith her again, and it was enough: she made her heart over to himentirely.
Dinner was soon despatched. And when a preliminary round ofconversation concerning their doings since the last parting hadbeen concluded, they reverted to the subject of to-morrow'sjourney home.
'That enervating ride through the myrtle climate of South Devon--how I dread it to-morrow!' Mrs. Swancourt was saying. 'I hadhoped the weather would have been cooler by this time.'
'Did you ever go by water?' said Knight.
'Never--by never, I mean not since the time of railways.'
'Then if you can afford an additional day, I propose that we doit,' said Knight. 'The Channel is like a lake just now. Weshould reach Plymouth in about forty hours, I think, and the boatsstart from just below the bridge here' (pointing over his shouldereastward).
'Hear, hear!' said the vicar.
'It's an idea, certainly,' said his wife.
'Of course these coasters are rather tubby,' said Knight. 'Butyou wouldn't mind that?'
'No: we wouldn't mind.'
'And the saloon is a place like the fishmarket of a ninth-ratecountry town, but that wouldn't matter?'
'Oh dear, no. If we had only thought of it soon enough, we mighthave had the use of Lord Luxellian's yacht. But never mind, we'llgo. We shall escape the worrying rattle through the whole lengthof London to-morrow morning--not to mention the risk of beingkilled by excursion trains, which is not a little one at this timeof the year, if the papers are true.'
Elfride, too, thought the arrangement delightful; and accordingly,ten o'clock the following morning saw two cabs crawling round bythe Mint, and between the preternaturally high walls ofNightingale Lane towards the river side.
The first vehicle was occupied by the travellers in person, andthe second brought up the luggage, under the supervision of Mrs.Snewson, Mrs. Swancourt's maid--and for the last fortnightElfride's also; for although the younger lady had never beenaccustomed to any such attendant at robing times, her stepmotherforced her into a semblance of familiarity with one when they wereaway from home.
Presently waggons, bales, and smells of all descriptions increasedto such an extent that the advance of the cabs was at the slowestpossible rate. At intervals it was necessary to halt entirely,that the heavy vehicles unloading in front might be moved aside, afeat which was not accomplished without a deal of swearing andnoise. The vicar put his head out of the window.
'Surely there must be some mistake in the way,' he said with greatconcern, drawing in his head again. 'There's not a respectableconveyance to be seen here except ours. I've heard that there arestrange dens in this part of London, into which people have beenentrapped and murdered--surely there is no conspiracy on the partof the cabman?'
'Oh no, no. It is all right,' said Mr. Knight, who was as placidas dewy eve by the side of Elfride.
'But what I argue from,' said the vicar, with a greater emphasisof uneasiness, 'are plain appearances. This can't be the highwayfrom London to Plymouth by water, because it is no way at all toany place. We shall miss our steamer and our train too--that'swhat I think.'
'Depend upon it we are right. In fact, here we are.'
'Trimmer's Wharf,' said the cabman, opening the door.
No sooner had they alighted than they perceived a tussle going onbetween the hindmost cabman and a crowd of light porters who hadcharged him in column, to obtain possession of the bags and boxes,Mrs. Snewson's hands being seen stretched towards heaven in themidst of the melee. Knight advanced gallantly, and after a hardstruggle reduced the crowd to two, upon whose shoulders and trucksthe goods vanished away in the direction of the water's edge withstartling rapidity.
Then more of the same tribe, who had run on ahead, were heardshouting to boatmen, three of whom pulled alongside, and two beingvanquished, the luggage went tumbling into the remaining one.
'Never saw such a dreadful scene in my life--never!' said Mr.Swancourt, floundering into the boat. 'Worse than Famine andSword upon one. I thought such customs were confined tocontinental ports. Aren't you astonished, Elfride?'
'Oh no,' said Elfride, appearing amid the dingy scene like arainbow in a murky sky. 'It is a pleasant novelty, I think.'
'Where in the wide ocean is our steamer?' the vicar inquired. 'Ican see nothing but old hulks, for the life of me.'
Ican see nothing but old hulks, for the life of me.'we wouldn'.
'Just behind that one,' said Knight; 'we shall soon be round underher.'
The object of their search was soon after disclosed to view--agreat lumbering form of inky blackness, which looked as if it hadnever known the touch of a paint-brush for fifty years. It waslying beside just such another, and the way on board was down anarrow lane of water between the two, about a yard and a half wideat one end, and gradually converging to a point. At the moment oftheir entry into this narrow passage, a brilliantly painted rivalpaddled down the river like a trotting steed, creating such aseries of waves and splashes that their frail wherry was tossedlike a teacup, and the vicar and his wife slanted this way andthat, inclining their heads into contact with a Punch-and-Judy airand countenance, the wavelets striking the sides of the two hulls,and flapping back into their laps.
'Dreadful! horrible!' Mr. Swancourt murmured privately; and saidaloud, I thought we walked on board. I don't think really Ishould have come, if I had known this trouble was attached to it.'
'If they must splash, I wish they would splash us with cleanwater,' said the old lady, wiping her dress with her handkerchief.
'I hope it is perfectly safe,' continued the vicar.
'O papa! you are not very brave,' cried Elfride merrily.
'Bravery is only obtuseness to the perception of contingencies,'Mr. Swancourt severely answered.
Mrs. Swancourt laughed, and Elfride laughed, and Knight laughed,in the midst of which pleasantness a man shouted to them from someposition between their heads and the sky, and they found they wereclose to the Juliet, into which they quiveringly ascended.
It having been found that the lowness of the tide would preventtheir getting off for an hour, the Swancourts, having nothing elseto do, allowed their eyes to idle upon men in blue jerseysperforming mysterious mending operations with tar-twine; theyturned to look at the dashes of lurid sunlight, like burnishedcopper stars afloat on the ripples, which danced into andtantalized their vision; or listened to the loud music of a steam-crane at work close by; or to sighing sounds from the funnels ofpassing steamers, getting dead as they grew more distant; or toshouts from the decks of different craft in their vicinity, all ofthem assuming the form of 'Ah-he-hay!'
Half-past ten: not yet off. Mr. Swancourt breathed a breath ofweariness, and looked at his fellow-travellers in general. Theirfaces were certainly not worth looking at. The expression'Waiting' was written upon them so absolutely that nothing morecould be discerned there. All animation was suspended tillProvidence should raise the water and let them go.
'I have been thinking,' said Knight, 'that we have come amongstthe rarest class of people in the kingdom. Of all humancharacteristics, a low opinion of the value of his own time by anindividual must be among the strangest to find. Here we seenumbers of that patient and happy species. Rovers, as distinctfrom travellers.'
'But they are pleasure-seekers, to whom time is of no importance.'
'Oh no. The pleasure-seekers we meet on the grand routes are moreanxious than commercial travellers to rush on. And added to theloss of time in getting to their journey's end, these exceptionalpeople take their chance of sea-sickness by coming this way.'
'Can it be?' inquired the vicar with apprehension. 'Surely not,Mr. Knight, just here in our English Channel--close at our doors,as I may say.'
'Entrance passages are very draughty places, and the Channel islike the rest. It ruins the temper of sailors. It has beencalculated by philosophers that more damns go up to heaven fromthe Channel, in the course of a year, than from all the fiveoceans put together.'
They really start now, and the dead looks of all the throng cometo life immediately. The man who has been frantically hauling ina rope that bade fair to have no end ceases his labours, and theyglide down the serpentine bends of the Thames.
Anything anywhere was a mine of interest to Elfride, and so wasthis.
'It is well enough now,' said Mrs. Swancourt, after they hadpassed the Nore, 'but I can't say I have cared for my voyagehitherto.' For being now in the open sea a slight breeze hadsprung up, which cheered her as well as her two youngercompanions. But unfortunately it had a reverse effect upon thevicar, who, after turning a sort of apricot jam colour,interspersed with dashes of raspberry, pleaded indisposition, andvanished from their sight.
The afternoon wore on. Mrs. Swancourt kindly sat apart by herselfreading, and the betrothed pair were left to themselves. Elfrideclung trustingly to Knight's arm, and proud was she to walk withhim up and down the deck, or to go forward, and leaning with himagainst the forecastle rails, watch the setting sun graduallywithdrawing itself over their stern into a huge bank of lividcloud with golden edges that rose to meet it.
She was childishly full of life and spirits, though in walking upand down with him before the other passengers, and getting noticedby them, she was at starting rather confused, it being the firsttime she had shown herself so openly under that kind ofprotection. 'I expect they are envious and saying things aboutus, don't you?' she would whisper to Knight with a stealthy smile.
'Oh no,' he would answer unconcernedly. 'Why should they envy us,and what can they say?'
'Not any harm, of course,' Elfride replied, 'except such as this:"How happy those two are! she is proud enough now." What makes itworse,' she continued in the extremity of confidence, 'I heardthose two cricketing men say just now, "She's the nobbiest girl onthe boat." But I don't mind it, you know, Harry.'
'I should hardly have supposed you did, even if you had not toldme,' said Knight with great blandness.
She was never tired of asking her lover questions and admiring hisanswers, good, bad, or indifferent as they might be. The eveninggrew dark and night came on, and lights shone upon them from thehorizon and from the sky.
She watched for a few minutes, when two white lights emerged fromthe side of a hill, and showed themselves to be the origin of thehalo.
'What a dazzling brilliance! What do they mark?'
'The South Foreland: they were previously covered by the cliff.'
'What is that level line of little sparkles--a town, I suppose?'
'That's Dover.'
All this time, and later, soft sheet lightning expanded from acloud in their path, enkindling their faces as they paced up anddown, shining over the water, and, for a moment, showing thehorizon as a keen line.
Elfride slept soundly that night. Her first thought the nextmorning was the thrilling one that Knight was as close at hand aswhen they were at home at Endelstow, and her first sight, onlooking out of the cabin window, was the perpendicular face ofBeachy Head, gleaming white in a brilliant six-o'clock-in-the-morning sun. This fair daybreak, however, soon changed itsaspect. A cold wind and a pale mist descended upon the sea, andseemed to threaten a dreary day.
When they were nearing Southampton, Mrs. Swancourt came to saythat her husband was so ill that he wished to be put on shorehere, and left to do the remainder of the journey by land. 'Hewill be perfectly well directly he treads firm ground again.Which shall we do--go with him, or finish our voyage as weintended?'
Elfride was comfortably housed under an umbrella which Knight washolding over her to keep off the wind. 'Oh, don't let us go onshore!' she said with dismay. 'It would be such a pity!'
'That's very fine,' said Mrs. Swancourt archly, as to a child.'See, the wind has increased her colour, the sea her appetite andspirits, and somebody her happiness. Yes, it would be a pity,certainly.'
''Tis my misfortune to be always spoken to from a pedestal,'sighed Elfride.
'Well, we will do as you like, Mrs. Swancourt,' said Knight, 'but----'
'I myself would rather remain on board,' interrupted the elderlady. 'And Mr. Swancourt particularly wishes to go by himself.So that shall settle the matter.'
The vicar, now a drab colour, was put ashore, and became as wellas ever forthwith.
Elfride, sitting alone in a retired part of the vessel, saw aveiled woman walk aboard among the very latest arrivals at thisport. She was clothed in black silk, and carried a dark shawlupon her arm. The woman, without looking around her, turned tothe quarter allotted to the second-cabin passengers. All thecarnation Mrs. Swancourt had complimented her step-daughter uponpossessing left Elfride's cheeks, and she trembled visibly.
She ran to the other side of the boat, where Mrs. Swancourt wasstanding.
'Let us go home by railway with papa, after all,' she pleadedearnestly. 'I would rather go with him--shall we?'
Mrs. Swancourt looked around for a moment, as if unable to decide.'Ah,' she exclaimed, 'it is too late now. Why did not you say sobefore, when we had plenty of time?'
The Juliet had at that minute let go, the engines had started, andthey were gliding slowly away from the quay. There was no helpfor it but to remain, unless the Juliet could be made to put back,and that would create a great disturbance. Elfride gave up theidea and submitted quietly. Her happiness was sadly mutilatednow.
The woman whose presence had so disturbed her was exactly likeMrs. Jethway. She seemed to haunt Elfride like a shadow. Afterseveral minutes' vain endeavour to account for any design Mrs.Jethway could have in watching her, Elfride decided to think that,if it were the widow, the encounter was accidental. Sheremembered that the widow in her restlessness was often visitingthe village near Southampton, which was her original home, and itwas possible that she chose water-transit with the idea of savingexpense.
'What is the matter, Elfride?' Knight inquired, standing beforeher.
'Nothing more than that I am rather depressed.'
'I don't much wonder at it; that wharf was depressing. We seemedunderneath and inferior to everything around us. But we shall bein the sea breeze again soon, and that will freshen you, dear.'
The evening closed in and dusk increased as they made way downSouthampton Water and through the Solent. Elfride's disturbanceof mind was such that her light spirits of the foregoing four andtwenty hours had entirely deserted her. The weather too had grownmore gloomy, for though the showers of the morning had ceased, thesky was covered more closely than ever with dense leaden clouds.How beautiful was the sunset when they rounded the North Forelandthe previous evening! now it was impossible to tell within half anhour the time of the luminary's going down. Knight led her about,and being by this time accustomed to her sudden changes of mood,overlooked the necessity of a cause in regarding the conditions--impressionableness and elasticity.
Elfride looked stealthily to the other end of the vessel. Mrs.Jethway, or her double, was sitting at the stern--her eye steadilyregarding Elfride.
'Let us go to the forepart,' she said quickly to Knight. 'Seethere--the man is fixing the lights for the night.'
Knight assented, and after watching the operation of fixing thered and the green lights on the port and starboard bows, and thehoisting of the white light to the masthead, he walked up and downwith her till the increase of wind rendered promenading difficult.Elfride's eyes were occasionally to be found furtively gazingabaft, to learn if her enemy were really there. Nobody wasvisible now.
'Shall we go below?' said Knight, seeing that the deck was nearlydeserted.
'No,' she said. 'If you will kindly get me a rug from Mrs.Swancourt, I should like, if you don't mind, to stay here.' Shehad recently fancied the assumed Mrs. Jethway might be a first-class passenger, and dreaded meeting her by accident.
Knight appeared with the rug, and they sat down behind a weather-cloth on the windward side, just as the two red eyes of theNeedles glared upon them from the gloom, their pointed summitsrising like shadowy phantom figures against the sky. It becamenecessary to go below to an eight-o'clock meal of nondescriptkind, and Elfride was immensely relieved at finding no sign ofMrs. Jethway there. They again ascended, and remained above tillMrs. Snewson staggered up to them with the message that Mrs.Swancourt thought it was time for Elfride to come below. Knightaccompanied her down, and returned again to pass a little moretime on deck.
Elfride partly undressed herself and lay down, and soon becameunconscious, though her sleep was light How long she had lain, sheknew not, when by slow degrees she became cognizant of awhispering in her ear.
'You are well on with him, I can see. Well, provoke me now, butmy day will come, you will find.' That seemed to be the utterance,or words to that effect.
Elfride became broad awake and terrified. She knew the words, ifreal, could be only those of one person, and that person the widowJethway.