第 141 节
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温暖寒冬 更新:2024-04-09 19:50 字数:9294
and the prisoner was made to hold up her hand; and the jury were
asked for their verdict。
“Guilty。”
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It was the verdict every one expected; but there was a sigh of
disappointment from some hearts that it was followed by no
recommendation to mercy。 Still the sympathy of the court was not
with the prisoner。 The unnaturalness of her crime stood out the
more harshly by the side of her hard immovability and obstinate
silence。 Even the verdict; to distant eyes; had not appeared to
move her; but those who were near saw her trembling。
The stillness was less intense until the judge put on his black
cap; and the chaplain in his canonicals was observed behind him。
Then it deepened again; before the crier had had time to
command silence。 If any sound were heard; it must have been the
sound of beating hearts。 The judge spoke;
“Hester Sorrel 。 。 。”
The blood rushed to Hetty’s face; and then fled back again as
she looked up at the judge and kept her wide…open eyes fixed on
him; as if fascinated by fear。 Adam had not yet turned towards her;
there was a deep horror; like a great gulf; between them。 But at
the words “and then to be hanged by the neck till you be dead;” a
piercing shriek rang through the hall。 It was Hetty’s shriek。 Adam
started to his feet and stretched out his arms towards her。 But the
arms could not reach her: she had fallen down in a fainting fit; and
was carried out of court。
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Chapter XLIV
Arthur’s Return
hen Arthur Donnithorne landed at Liverpool and read
Wthe letter from his Aunt Lydia; briefly announcing his
grandfather’s death; his first feeling was; “Poor
Grandfather! I wish I could have got to him to be with him when
he died。 He might have felt or wished something at the last that I
shall never know now。 It was a lonely death。”
It is impossible to say that his grief was deeper than that。 Pity
and softened memory took place of the old antagonism; and in his
busy thoughts about the future; as the chaise carried him rapidly
along towards the home where he was now to be master; there was
a continually recurring effort to remember anything by which he
could show a regard for his grandfather’s wishes; without
counteracting his own cherished aims for the good of the tenants
and the estate。 But it is not in human nature—only in human
pretence—for a young man like Arthur; with a fine constitution
and fine spirits; thinking well of himself; believing that others
think well of him; and having a very ardent intention to give them
more and more reason for that good opinion—it is not possible for
such a young man; just coming into a splendid estate through the
death of a very old man whom he was not fond of; to feel anything
very different from exultant joy。 Now his real life was beginning;
now he would have room and opportunity for action; and he would
use them。 He would show the Loamshire people what a fine
country gentleman was; he would not exchange that career for any
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other under the sun。 He felt himself riding over the hills in the
breezy autumn days; looking after favourite plans of drainage and
enclosure; then admired on sombre mornings as the best rider on
the best horse in the hunt; spoken well of on market…days as a
first…rate landlord; by and by making speeches at election dinners;
and showing a wonderful knowledge of agriculture; the patron of
new ploughs and drills; the severe upbraider of negligent
landowners; and withal a jolly fellow that everybody must like—
happy faces greeting him everywhere on his own estate; and the
neighbouring families on the best terms with him。 The Irwines
should dine with him every week; and have their own carriage to
come in; for in some very delicate way that Arthur would devise;
the lay…impropriator of the Hayslope tithes would insist on paying
a couple of hundreds more to the vicar; and his aunt should be as
comfortable as possible; and go on living at the Chase; if she liked;
in spite of her old…maidish ways—at least until he was married;
and that event lay in the indistinct background; for Arthur had not
yet seen the woman who would play the lady…wife to the first…rate
country gentleman。
These were Arthur’s chief thoughts; so far as a man’s thoughts
through hours of travelling can be compressed into a few
sentences; which are only like the list of names telling you what
are the scenes in a long; long panorama full of colour; of detail;
and of life。 The happy faces Arthur saw greeting him were not pale
abstractions; but real ruddy faces; long familiar to him: Martin
Poyser was there—the whole Poyser family。
What—Hetty?
Yes; for Arthur was at ease about Hetty—not quite at ease
about the past; for a certain burning of the ears would come
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whenever he thought of the scenes with Adam last August; but at
ease about her present lot。 Mr。 Irwine; who had been a regular
correspondent; telling him all the news about the old places and
people; had sent him word nearly three months ago that Adam
Bede was not to marry Mary Burge; as he had thought; but pretty
Hetty Sorrel。 Martin Poyser and Adam himself had both told Mr。
Irwine all about it—that Adam had been deeply in love with Hetty
these two years; and that now it was agreed they were to be
married in March。 That stalwart rogue Adam was more
susceptible than the rector had thought; it was really quite an
idyllic love affair; and if it had not been too long to tell in a letter;
he would have liked to describe to Arthur the blushing looks and
the simple strong words with which the fine honest fellow told his
secret。 He knew Arthur would like to hear that Adam had this sort
of happiness in prospect。
Yes; indeed! Arthur felt there was not air enough in the room to
satisfy his renovated life; when he had read that passage in the
letter。 He threw up the windows; he rushed out of doors into the
December air; and greeted every one who spoke to him with an
eager gaiety; as if there had been news of a fresh Nelson victory。
For the first time that day since he had come to Windsor; he was in
true boyish spirits。 The load that had been pressing upon him was
gone; the haunting fear had vanished。 He thought he could
conquer his bitterness towards Adam now—could offer him his
hand; and ask to be his friend again; in spite of that painful
memory which would still make his ears burn。 He had been
knocked down; and he had been forced to tell a lie: such things
make a scar; do what we will。 But if Adam were the same again as
in the old days; Arthur wished to be the same too; and to have
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Adam mixed up with his business and his future; as he had always
desired before the accursed meeting in August。 Nay; he would do
a great deal more for Adam than he should otherwise have done;
when he came into the estate; Hetty’s husband had a special claim
on him—Hetty herself should feel that