第 1 节
作者:冬恋      更新:2021-04-30 16:59      字数:9322
  THE HOUSE BEHIND THE CEDARS
  THE HOUSE BEHIND
  THE CEDARS
  BY CHARLES W。 CHESNUTT
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  THE HOUSE BEHIND THE CEDARS
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  A STRANGER FROM SOUTH CAROLINA
  Time   touches   all   things   with   destroying   hand;   and   if   he   seem   now
  and then to bestow the bloom of youth; the sap of spring; it is but a brief
  mockery; to be surely and swiftly followed by the wrinkles of old age; the
  dry leaves and bare branches of winter。             And yet there are places where
  Time seems to linger lovingly long after youth has departed; and to which
  he   seems   loath   to   bring   the   evil   day。 Who   has   not   known   some   even…
  tempered old man or woman who seemed to have drunk of the fountain of
  youth?     Who has not seen somewhere an old town that; having long since
  ceased to grow; yet held its own without perceptible decline?
  Some such trite reflectionas apposite to the subject as most random
  reflections arepassed through the mind of a young man who came out of
  the front door of the Patesville Hotel about nine o'clock one fine morning
  in spring; a few years after the Civil War; and started down Front Street
  toward the market…house。          Arriving at the town late the previous evening;
  he had been   driven up from  the   steamboat   in  a   carriage;  from  which he
  had been able to distinguish only the shadowy outlines of the houses along
  the street; so that   this   morning walk   was his  first opportunity to   see  the
  town by daylight。        He was dressed in a suit of linen duckthe day was
  warma   panama   straw   hat;   and   patent   leather   shoes。    In   appearance   he
  was tall; dark; with straight; black; lustrous hair; and very clean…cut; high…
  bred   features。    When   he   paused   by   the   clerk's   desk   on   his   way   out;   to
  light his cigar; the day clerk; who had just come on duty; glanced at the
  register and read the last entry:
  〃‘JOHN WARWICK; CLARENCE; SOUTH CAROLINA。'
  〃One of the South Ca'lina bigbugs; I reckon probably in cotton; or
  turpentine。〃     The     gentleman     from   South    Carolina;    walking    down    the
  street;   glanced    about   him   with   an  eager   look;   in  which    curiosity   and
  affection were mingled with a touch of bitterness。              He saw little that was
  not familiar; or that he had not seen in his dreams a hundred times during
  the   past   ten  years。    There    had   been   some    changes;    it  is  true;  some
  melancholy       changes;     but  scarcely    anything     by   way    of  addition    or
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  THE HOUSE BEHIND THE CEDARS
  improvement        to  counterbalance       them。    Here     and   there   blackened     and
  dismantled   walls   marked   the   place   where   handsome   buildings   once   had
  stood;   for   Sherman's   march   to   the   sea   had   left   its   mark   upon   the   town。
  The stores were mostly of brick; two stories high; joining one another after
  the   manner   of   cities。    Some   of   the   names   on   the   signs   were   familiar;
  others; including a number of Jewish names; were quite unknown to him。
  A   two   minutes'   walk   brought   Warwickthe   name   he   had   registered
  under; and as we shall call himto the market…house; the central feature of
  Patesville; from both the commercial and the picturesque points of view。
  Standing foursquare in the heart of the town; at the intersection of the two
  main streets; a 〃jog〃 at each street corner left around the market…house a
  little   public   square;   which   at   this   hour   was   well   occupied   by   carts   and
  wagons from the country and empty drays awaiting hire。                       Warwick was
  unable     to   perceive    much     change     in  the   market…house。       Perhaps      the
  surface of the red brick; long unpainted; had scaled off a little more here
  and   there。     There   might   have   been   a   slight   accretion   of   the   moss   and
  lichen on the shingled roof。          But the tall tower; with its four… faced clock;
  rose as majestically and uncompromisingly as though the land had never
  been subjugated。        Was it so irreconcilable; Warwick wondered; as still to
  peal out the curfew bell; which at nine o'clock at night had clamorously
  warned   all   negroes;   slave   or   free;   that   it   was   unlawful   for   them   to   be
  abroad after that hour; under penalty of imprisonment or whipping?                       Was
  the old constable; whose chief business it had been to ring the bell; still
  alive and exercising   the functions   of his office;   and had   age lessened   or
  increased the number of times that obliging citizens performed this duty
  for him during his temporary absences in the company of convivial spirits?
  A   few    moments      later;  Warwick      saw    a  colored    policeman      in  the   old
  constable's placea stronger reminder than even the burned buildings that
  war   had   left   its   mark   upon   the   old   town;   with   which Time   had   dealt   so
  tenderly。
  The lower story of the market…house was open on all four of its sides
  to   the   public   square。    Warwick   passed   through   one   of   the   wide   brick
  arches and traversed the building with a leisurely step。               He looked in vain
  into the stalls for the butcher who had sold fresh meat twice a week; on
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  THE HOUSE BEHIND THE CEDARS
  market days; and he felt a genuine thrill of pleasure when he recognized
  the red bandana turban of old Aunt Lyddy; the ancient negro woman who
  had   sold    him   gingerbread   and   fried   fish;   and   told   him   weird   tales   of
  witchcraft and conjuration; in the old days when; as an idle boy; he had
  loafed about the market…house。           He did not speak to her; however; or give
  her any sign of recognition。          He threw a glance toward a certain corner
  where   steps   led   to   the   town   hall   above。 On   this   stairway   he   had   once
  seen     a   manacled      free   negro    shot    while    being    taken    upstairs    for
  examination under a criminal charge。              Warwick recalled vividly how the
  shot   had   rung   out。   He   could   see   again   the   livid   look   of   terror   on   the
  victim's face; the gathering crowd; the resulting confusion。               The murderer;
  he recalled; had been tried and sentenced to imprisonment for life; but was
  pardoned by a merciful governor after serving a year of his sentence。                    As
  Warwick   was   neither   a   prophet   nor   the   son   of   a   prophet;   he   could   not
  foresee     that;  thirty   years   later;   even   this   would    seem     an   excessive
  punishment for so slight a misdemeanor。
  Leaving the market…house; Warwick turned to the left; and kept on his
  course until he reached the next corner。            After another turn to the right; a
  dozen paces brought him in front of a small weather…beaten frame building;
  from which projected a wooden sign…board bearing the inscription:
  ARCHIBALD STRAIGHT; LAWYER。
  He turned the knob; but the door was locked。              Retracing his steps past
  a   vacant   lot;   the   young   man   entered   a   shop   where   a   colored   man   was
  employed in varnishing a coffin; which stood on two trestles in the middle
  of   the   floor。 Not   at   all   impressed by  the   melancholy  suggestiveness   of
  his task; he was whistling a lively air with great gusto。               Upon Warwick's
  entrance     this   effusion    came    to  a   sudden    end;   and    the  coffin…maker
  assumed an air of professional gravity。
  〃Good…mawnin'; suh;〃 he said; lifting his cap politely。
  〃Good…morning;〃         answered     Warwick。       〃Can    you    tell  me   anything
  about Judge Straight's office hours?〃
  〃De   ole   jedge   has   be'n   a   little   onreg'lar   sence   de   wah;   suh;   but   he
  gin'ally gits roun' 'bout ten o'clock er so。           He's be'n kin' er feeble fer de
  las'   few   yeahs。    An'   I   reckon;〃   continued   the   undertaker   solemnly;   his
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  THE HOUSE BEHIND THE CEDARS
  glance  unconsciously  seeking   a   row   of   fine   caskets   standing   against   the
  wall;〃I reckon he'll soon be goin' de way er all de earth。                   ‘Man dat is
  bawn   er   'oman   hath   but   a   sho't   time   ter   lib;   an'   is