一双蓝眼睛 英文版 A Pair of Blue Eyes
托马斯.哈代 Thomas Hardy
Chapter II
'Twas on the evening of a winter's day.'
with an interest which theindistinct picture!
When two or three additional hours had mergedthe same afternoon in evening, some moving outlines might havebeen observed against the sky on the summit of a wild lone hill inthat district. They circumscribed two men, having at present theaspect of silhouettes, sitting in a dog-cart and pushing along inthe teeth of the wind. Scarcely a solitary house or man had beenvisible along the whole dreary distance of open country they weretraversing; and now that night had begun to fall, the fainttwilight, which still gave an idea of the landscape to theirobservation, was enlivened by the quiet appearance of the planetJupiter, momentarily gleaming in intenser brilliancy in front ofthem, and by Sirius shedding his rays in rivalry from his positionover their shoulders. The only lights apparent on earth were somespots of dull red, glowing here and there upon the distant hills,which, as the driver of the vehicle gratuitously remarked to thehirer, were smouldering fires for the consumption of peat andgorse-roots, where the common was being broken up for agriculturalpurposes. The wind prevailed with but little abatement from itsdaytime boisterousness, three or four small clouds, delicate andpale, creeping along under the sky southward to the Channel.
Fourteen of the sixteen miles intervening between the railwayterminus and the end of their journey had been gone over, whenthey began to pass along the brink of a valley some miles inextent, wherein the wintry skeletons of a more luxuriantvegetation than had hitherto surrounded them proclaimed anincreased richness of soil, which showed signs of far more carefulenclosure and management than had any slopes they had yet passed.A little farther, and an opening in the elms stretching up fromthis fertile valley revealed a mansion.
'That's Endelstow House, Lord Luxellian's,' said the driver.
'Endelstow House, Lord Luxellian's,' repeated the othermechanically. He then turned himself sideways, and keenlyscrutinized the almost invisible house with an interest which theindistinct picture itself seemed far from adequate to create.'Yes, that's Lord Luxellian's,' he said yet again after a while,as he still looked in the same direction.
'What, be we going there?'
'No; Endelstow Vicarage, as I have told you.'
'I thought you m't have altered your mind, sir, as ye have staredthat way at nothing so long.'
'Oh no; I am interested in the house, that's all.'
'Most people be, as the saying is.'
'Not in the sense that I am.'
'Oh!...Well, his family is no better than my own, 'a b'lieve.'
'How is that?'
'Hedgers and ditchers by rights. But once in ancient times one of'em, when he was at work, changed clothes with King Charles theSecond, and saved the king's life. King Charles came up to himlike a common man, and said off-hand, "Man in the smock-frock, myname is Charles the Second, and that's the truth on't. Will youlend me your clothes?" "I don't mind if I do," said HedgerLuxellian; and they changed there and then. "Now mind ye," KingCharles the Second said, like a common man, as he rode away, "ifever I come to the crown, you come to court, knock at the door,and say out bold, 'Is King Charles the Second at home?' Tell yourname, and they shall let you in, and you shall be made a lord."Now, that was very nice of Master Charley?'
'Very nice indeed.'
'Well, as the story is, the king came to the throne; and someyears after that, away went Hedger Luxellian, knocked at theking's door, and asked if King Charles the Second was in. "No, heisn't," they said. "Then, is Charles the Third?" said HedgerLuxellian. "Yes," said a young feller standing by like a commonman, only he had a crown on, "my name is Charles the Third." And----'
'I really fancy that must be a mistake. I don't recollectanything in English history about Charles the Third,' said theother in a tone of mild remonstrance.
'Oh, that's right history enough, only 'twasn't prented; he wasrather a queer-tempered man, if you remember.'
'Very well; go on.'
'And, by hook or by crook, Hedger Luxellian was made a lord, andeverything went on well till some time after, when he got into amost terrible row with King Charles the Fourth
'I can't stand Charles the Fourth. Upon my word, that's toomuch.'
'Why? There was a George the Fourth, wasn't there?'
'Certainly.'
'Well, Charleses be as common as Georges. However I'll say nomore about it....Ah, well! 'tis the funniest world ever I livedin--upon my life 'tis. Ah, that such should be!'
The dusk had thickened into darkness while they thus conversed,and the outline and surface of the mansion gradually disappeared.The windows, which had before been as black blots on a lighterexpanse of wall, became illuminated, and were transfigured tosquares of light on the general dark body of the night landscapeas it absorbed the outlines of the edifice into its gloomymonochrome.
Not another word was spoken for some time, and they climbed ahill, then another hill piled on the summit of the first. Anadditional mile of plateau followed, from which could be discernedtwo light-houses on the coast they were nearing, reposing on thehorizon with a calm lustre of benignity. Another oasis wasreached; a little dell lay like a nest at their feet, towardswhich the driver pulled the horse at a sharp angle, and descendeda steep slope which dived under the trees like a rabbit's burrow.They sank lower and lower.
'Endelstow Vicarage is inside here,' continued the man with thereins. 'This part about here is West Endelstow; Lord Luxellian'sis East Endelstow, and has a church to itself. Pa'son Swancourtis the pa'son of both, and bobs backward and forward. Ah, well!'tis a funny world. 'A b'lieve there was once a quarry where thishouse stands. The man who built it in past time scraped all theglebe for earth to put round the vicarage, and laid out a littleparadise of flowers and trees in the soil he had got together inthis way, whilst the fields he scraped have been good for nothingever since.'
'How long has the present incumbent been here?'
'Maybe about a year, or a year and half: 'tisn't two years; forthey don't scandalize him yet; and, as a rule, a parish begins toscandalize the pa'son at the end of two years among 'em familiar.But he's a very nice party. Ay, Pa'son Swancourt knows me prettywell from often driving over; and I know Pa'son Swancourt.'
and aisle of thechurch in this parish; and Lord .
They emerged from the bower, swept round in a curve, and thechimneys and gables of the vicarage became darkly visible. Not alight showed anywhere. They alighted; the man felt his way intothe porch, and rang the bell.
At the end of three or four minutes, spent in patient waitingwithout hearing any sounds of a response, the stranger advancedand repeated the call in a more decided manner. He then fanciedhe heard footsteps in the hall, and sundry movements of the door-knob, but nobody appeared.
'Perhaps they beant at home,' sighed the driver. 'And I promisedmyself a bit of supper in Pa'son Swancourt's kitchen. Sich lovelymate-pize and figged keakes, and cider, and drops o' cordial thatthey do keep here!'
'All right, naibours! Be ye rich men or be ye poor men, that yemust needs come to the world's end at this time o' night?'exclaimed a voice at this instant; and, turning their heads, theysaw a rickety individual shambling round from the back door with ahorn lantern dangling from his hand.
'Time o' night, 'a b'lieve! and the clock only gone seven of 'em.Show a light, and let us in, William Worm.'
'Oh, that you, Robert Lickpan?'
'Nobody else, William Worm.'
'And is the visiting man a-come?'
'Yes,' said the stranger. 'Is Mr. Swancourt at home?'
'That 'a is, sir. And would ye mind coming round by the back way?The front door is got stuck wi' the wet, as he will do sometimes;and the Turk can't open en. I know I am only a poor wambling manthat 'ill never pay the Lord for my making, sir; but I can showthe way in, sir.'
The new arrival followed his guide through a little door in awall, and then promenaded a scullery and a kitchen, along which hepassed with eyes rigidly fixed in advance, an inbred horror ofprying forbidding him to gaze around apartments that formed theback side of the household tapestry. Entering the hall, he wasabout to be shown to his room, when from the inner lobby of thefront entrance, whither she had gone to learn the cause of thedelay, sailed forth the form of Elfride. Her start of amazementat the sight of the visitor coming forth from under the stairsproved that she had not been expecting this surprising flankmovement, which had been originated entirely by the ingenuity ofWilliam Worm.
She appeared in the prettiest of all feminine guises, that is tosay, in demi-toilette, with plenty of loose curly hair tumblingdown about her shoulders. An expression of uneasiness pervadedher countenance; and altogether she scarcely appeared woman enoughfor the situation. The visitor removed his hat, and the firstwords were spoken; Elfride prelusively looking with a deal ofinterest, not unmixed with surprise, at the person towards whomshe was to do the duties of hospitality.
'I am Mr. Smith,' said the stranger in a musical voice.
'I am Miss Swancourt,' said Elfride.
Her constraint was over. The great contrast between the realityshe beheld before her, and the dark, taciturn, sharp, elderly manof business who had lurked in her imagination--a man with clothessmelling of city smoke, skin sallow from want of sun, and talkflavoured with epigram--was such a relief to her that Elfridesmiled, almost laughed, in the new-comer's face.
Stephen Smith, who has hitherto been hidden from us by thedarkness, was at this time of his life but a youth in appearance,and barely a man in years. Judging from his look, London was thelast place in the world that one would have imagined to be thescene of his activities: such a face surely could not be nourishedamid smoke and mud and fog and dust; such an open countenancecould never even have seen anything of 'the weariness, the fever,and the fret' of Babylon the Second.
His complexion was as fine as Elfride's own; the pink of hischeeks as delicate. His mouth as perfect as Cupid's bow in form,and as cherry-red in colour as hers. Bright curly hair; brightsparkling blue-gray eyes; a boy's blush and manner; neitherwhisker nor moustache, unless a little light-brown fur on hisupper lip deserved the latter title: this composed the Londonprofessional man, the prospect of whose advent had so troubledElfride.
Elfride hastened to say she was sorry to tell him that Mr.Swancourt was not able to receive him that evening, and gave thereason why. Mr. Smith replied, in a voice boyish by nature andmanly by art, that he was very sorry to hear this news; but thatas far as his reception was concerned, it did not matter in theleast.
Stephen was shown up to his room. In his absence Elfridestealthily glided into her father's.
'He's come, papa. Such a young man for a business man!'
'Oh, indeed!'
'His face is--well--PRETTY; just like mine.'
'H'm! what next?'
'Nothing; that's all I know of him yet. It is rather nice, is itnot?'
'Well, we shall see that when we know him better. Go down andgive the poor fellow something to eat and drink, for Heaven'ssake. And when he has done eating, say I should like to have afew words with him, if he doesn't mind coming up here.'
The young lady glided downstairs again, and whilst she awaitsyoung Smith's entry, the letters referring to his visit had betterbe given.
1.--MR. SWANCOURT TO MR. HEWBY.
'ENDELSTOW VICARAGE, Feb. 18, 18--.
'SIR,--We are thinking of restoring the tower and aisle of thechurch in this parish; and Lord Luxellian, the patron of theliving, has mentioned your name as that of a trustworthy architectwhom it would be desirable to ask to superintend the work.
'I am exceedingly ignorant of the necessary preliminary steps.Probably, however, the first is that (should you be, as LordLuxellian says you are, disposed to assist us) yourself or somemember of your staff come and see the building, and reportthereupon for the satisfaction of parishioners and others.
'The spot is a very remote one: we have no railway within fourteenmiles; and the nearest place for putting up at--called a town,though merely a large village--is Castle Boterel, two milesfurther on; so that it would be most convenient for you to stay atthe vicarage--which I am glad to place at your disposal--insteadof pushing on to the hotel at Castle Boterel, and coming backagain in the morning.
'Any day of the next week that you like to name for the visit willfind us quite ready to receive you.--Yours very truly, CHRISTOPHERSWANCOURT.
2.--MR. HEWBY TO MR. SWANCOURT.
"PERCY PLACE, CHARING CROSS, Feb. 20, 18--.
'DEAR SIR,--Agreeably to your request of the 18th instant, I havearranged to survey and make drawings of the aisle and tower ofyour parish church, and of the dilapidations which have beensuffered to accrue thereto, with a view to its restoration.
'My assistant, Mr. Stephen Smith, will leave London by the earlytrain to-morrow morning for the purpose. Many thanks for yourproposal to accommodate him. He will take advantage of youroffer, and will probably reach your house at some hour of theevening. You may put every confidence in him, and may rely uponhis discernment in the matter of church architecture.
'Trusting that the plans for the restoration, which I shallprepare from the details of his survey, will prove satisfactory toyourself and Lord Luxellian, I am, dear sir, yours faithfully,WALTER HEWBY.'