第 149 节
作者:温暖寒冬      更新:2024-04-09 19:50      字数:9241
  Donnithorne Chase: you know who the men were。
  The old squire’s funeral had taken place that morning; the will
  had    been   read;   and   now    in  the  first  breathing…space;     Arthur
  Donnithorne   had   come   out  for  a   lonely   walk;   that   he   might   look
  fixedly at the new future before him and confirm himself in a sad
  resolution。 He thought he could do that best in the Grove。
  Adam too had come from Stoniton on Monday evening; and to…
  day   he   had   not   left   home;   except   to   go   to   the   family   at   the   Hall
  Farm and tell them everything that Mr。 Irwine had left untold。 He
  had   agreed   with   the   Poysers   that   he   would   follow   them   to   their
  new neighbourhood; wherever that might be; for he meant to give
  up    the   management       of  the  woods;     and;   as  soon   as   it  was
  practicable; he would wind up his business with Jonathan   Burge
  and settle with his mother and Seth in a home within reach of the
  friends to whom he felt bound by a mutual sorrow。
  “Seth and me are sure to find work;” he said。 “A man that’s got
  our trade at his finger…ends is at home everywhere; and we must
  make a new start。 My mother won’t stand in the way; for she’s told
  me; since I came home; she’d made up her mind to being buried in
  another     parish;  if  I  wished   it;  and  if  I’d  be  more  comfortable
  elsewhere。 It’s wonderful how quiet she’s been ever since I came
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  back。 It seems as if the very greatness o’ the trouble had quieted
  and  calmed   her。   We shall all be   better  in   a   new   country;   though
  there’s some I shall be loath to leave behind。 But I won’t part from
  you and yours; if I can help it; Mr。 Poyser。 Trouble’s made us kin。”
  “Aye;   lad;”  said   Martin。   “We’ll   go  out  o’   hearing  o’   that  man’s
  name。 But I doubt we shall ne’er go far enough for folks not to find
  out as we’ve got them belonging to us as are transported o’er the
  seas; and   were   like   to  be  hanged。   We  shall   have   that  flyin’  up   in
  our faces; and our children’s after us。”
  That was a long visit to the Hall Farm; and drew too strongly on
  Adam’s energies for him to think  of   seeing  others;   or  re…entering
  on his old occupations till the morrow。 “But to…morrow;” he said to
  himself;   “I’ll   go  to  work   again。 I   shall  learn   to   like   it  again   some
  time; maybe; and it’s right whether I like it or not。”
  This   evening   was   the   last   he   would   allow   to   be   absorbed   by
  sorrow: suspense was gone now; and he must bear the unalterable。
  He   was   resolved  not   to   see   Arthur   Donnithorne   again;   if   it   were
  possible   to  avoid   him。   He   had   no  message   to   deliver   from   Hetty
  now; for Hetty had seen Arthur。 And Adam distrusted himself—he
  had learned to dread the violence of his own feeling。 That word of
  Mr。 Irwine’s—that he must remember what he had felt after giving
  the last blow to Arthur in the Grove—had remained with him。
  These thoughts about Arthur; like all thoughts that are charged
  with   strong   feeling;   were   continually   recurring;   and   they   always
  called     up   the    image     of  the   Grove—of        that   spot    under     the
  overarching boughs where he had caught sight of the two bending
  figures; and had been possessed by sudden rage。
  “I’ll go and see it again to…night for the last time;” he said; “it’ll
  do   me   good;   it’ll   make   me   feel   over   again   what   I   felt   when   I’d
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  knocked him down。 I felt what poor empty work it was; as soon as
  I’d done it; before I began to think he might be dead。”
  In   this   way   it   happened   that   Arthur   and   Adam   were   walking
  towards the same spot at the same time。
  Adam had on his working…dress again; now; for he had thrown
  off the other with a sense of relief as soon as he came home; and if
  he  had   had   the   basket   of   tools   over   his   shoulder;   he  might   have
  been taken; with his pale wasted face; for the spectre of the Adam
  Bede who entered the Grove on that August evening eight months
  ago。 But he had no basket  of  tools;  and   he  was   not  walking  with
  the old erectness; looking keenly round him; his hands were thrust
  in his side pockets; and his eyes rested chiefly on the ground。 He
  had     not   long   entered    the  Grove;     and   now    he   paused     before   a
  beech。   He   knew   that   tree   well;   it   was   the   boundary   mark   of   his
  youth—the   sign;   to   him;   of   the   time   when   some   of   his   earliest;
  strongest   feelings      had   left  him。    He   felt   sure  they   would    never
  return。 And yet; at this moment; there was a stirring of affection at
  the    remembrance         of   that  Arthur     Donnithorne        whom      he   had
  believed in before he had come up to this beech eight months ago。
  It was affection for the dead: that Arthur existed no longer。
  He   was   disturbed   by   the   sound   of   approaching   footsteps;   but
  the beech stood at a turning in the road; and he could not see who
  was   coming  until   the   tall slim   figure   in   deep   mourning  suddenly
  stood   before   him   at   only   two   yards’   distance。   They   both   started;
  and   looked   at   each   other   in   silence。   Often;   in   the   last   fortnight;
  Adam   had   imagined   himself   as   close   to   Arthur   as   this;   assailing
  him     with   words     that   should    be   as  harrowing       as  the   voice   of
  remorse;      forcing    upon    him    a  just  share    in  the   misery    he   had
  caused; and often; too; he had told himself that such a meeting had
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  better  not   be。   But   in   imagining   the   meeting   he   had   always   seen
  Arthur;   as   he   had   met   him   on   that   evening   in   the   Grove;   florid;
  careless;   light   of   speech;   and   the   figure   before   him   touched   him
  with   the   signs   of   suffering。   Adam   knew   what   suffering   was—he
  could not lay a cruel finger on a bruised man。 He felt no impulse
  that   he   needed   to   resist。   Silence   was   more   just   than   reproach。
  Arthur was the first to speak。
  “Adam;” he said; quietly; “it may be a good thing that we have
  met here; for I wished to see you。 I should have asked to see you
  to…morrow。”
  He paused; but Adam said nothing。
  “I know it is painful to you to meet me;” Arthur went on; “but it
  is not likely to happen again for years to come。”
  “No; sir;” said Adam; coldly; “that was what I meant to write to
  you to…morrow; as it would be better all dealings should be at an
  end between us; and somebody else put in my place。”
  Arthur felt the answer keenly; and it was not without an effort
  that he spoke again。
  “It was partly on that subject I wished to speak to you。 I don’t
  want     to  lessen   your   indignation     against   me;    or  ask   you   to  do
  anything for my sake。 I only wish to ask you if you will help me to
  lessen the evil consequences of the past; which is unchangeable。 I
  don’t mean consequences to myself; but to others。 It is but little I
  can  do;   I know。   I know  the   worst   consequences   will   remain;   but
  something may be done;  and   you  can   help me。   Will   you  listen   to
  me patiently?”
  “Yes; sir;” said Adam; after some hesitation; “I’ll hear what it is。
  If I can help to mend anything; I will。 Anger ’ull mend nothing; I
  know。 We’ve had enough o’ that。”
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  “I was going to the Hermitage;” said Arthur。 “Will you go there
  with me and sit down? We can talk better there。”
  The    Hermitage       had    never    been    entered    since    they   left  it
  together; for Arthur had locked up the key in his desk。 And now;
  when he opened the   door;   there   was   the   candle   burnt  out  in   the
  socket;     there   was    the   chair   in   the   same    place    where    Adam
  remembered         sitting;   there   was    the  waste…pap