第 30 节
作者:冬恋      更新:2021-04-30 17:00      字数:9322
  The   slim;   barefoot   girl;   with   sparkling   eyes   and   voluminous   hair;   who
  played about the yard and sometimes handed water in a gourd to travelers;
  did not long escape critical observation。             A gentleman drove by one day;
  stopped at the well; smiled upon the girl; and said kind words。                   He came
  again; more than once; and soon; while scarcely more than a child in years;
  Molly was living in her own house; hers by deed of gift; for her protector
  was    rich   and   liberal。   Her    mother     nevermore     knew     want。    Her    poor
  relations could always find a meal in Molly's kitchen。                She did not flaunt
  her   prosperity  in   the   world's   face;   she   hid   it   discreetly  behind   the   cedar
  screen。     Those who wished could know of it; for there were few secrets in
  Patesville; those who chose could as easily ignore it。                There were few to
  trouble themselves about the secluded life of an obscure woman of a class
  which had no recognized place in the social economy。                  She worshiped the
  ground      upon    which     her   lord   walked;     was   humbly      grateful    for  his
  protection;   and   quite   as   faithful   as   the   forbidden   marriage   vow      could
  possibly have made her。           She led her life in material peace and comfort;
  and with a certain amount of dignity。             Of her false relation to society she
  was not without some vague conception; but the moral point involved was
  so confused with other questions growing out of slavery and caste as to
  cause her; as a rule; but little uneasiness; and only now and then; in the
  moments of deeper feeling that come sometimes to all who live and love;
  did there break through the mists of ignorance and prejudice surrounding
  104
  … Page 105…
  THE HOUSE BEHIND THE CEDARS
  her a flash of light by which she saw; so far as she was capable of seeing;
  her true position; which in the clear light of truth no special pleading could
  entirely justify。      For she was free; she had not the slave's excuse。                 With
  every   inducement   to   do   evil   and   few   incentives   to   do   well;   and   hence
  entitled     to  charitable    judgment;      she   yet   had   freedom     of   choice;    and
  therefore     could    not   wholly    escape     blame。     Let    it  be  said;  in   further
  extenuation; that no other woman lived in neglect or sorrow because of her。
  She     robbed     no   one   else。    For    what     life  gave    her   she   returned    an
  equivalent;   and      what    she   did  not   pay;   her  children     settled  to  the   last
  farthing。
  Several years before the war; when Mis' Molly's daughter Rena was a
  few years old; death had suddenly removed the source of their prosperity。
  The household was not left entirely destitute。                Mis' Molly owned her
  home;   and   had   a   store   of   gold   pieces   in   the   chest   beneath   her   bed。 A
  small   piece   of   real   estate   stood   in   the   name   of   each   of the   children;   the
  income       from      which     contributed       to   their    maintenance。          Larger
  expectations were dependent upon the discovery of a promised will; which
  never came to light。          Mis' Molly wore black for several years after this
  bereavement; until the teacher and the preacher; following close upon the
  heels     of   military    occupation;      suggested     to   the   colored    people     new
  standards of life and character; in the light of which Mis' Molly laid her
  mourning sadly and shamefacedly aside。                 She had eaten of the fruit of the
  Tree of Knowledge。           After the war she formed the habit of church…going;
  and   might have  been   seen   now  and   then;  with her  daughter;  in   a  retired
  corner   of   the   gallery   of   the   white   Episcopal   church。     Upon   the   ground
  floor was   a   certain   pew   which   could   be seen   from  her   seat;   where   once
  had sat a gentleman whose pleasures had not interfered with the practice
  of   his   religion。   She   might   have   had   a   better   seat   in   a   church   where   a
  Northern   missionary  would   have   preached   a   sermon   better   suited   to   her
  comprehension and her moral needs; but she preferred the other。                      She was
  not white; alas! she was shut out from this seeming paradise; but she liked
  to see the distant glow of the celestial city; and to recall the days when she
  had basked in its radiance。          She did not sympathize greatly with the new
  era opened up for the emancipated slaves; she had no ideal love of liberty;
  105
  … Page 106…
  THE HOUSE BEHIND THE CEDARS
  she was no broader and no more altruistic than the white people around
  her; to whom she had always looked up; and she sighed for the old days;
  because to her they had been the good days。               Now; not only was her king
  dead; but the shield of his memory protected her no longer。
  Molly had lost one child; and his grave was visible from the kitchen
  window;   under   a   small   clump   of   cedars   in   the   rear   of   the   two…acre   lot。
  For even in the towns many a household had its private cemetery in those
  old days when the living were close to the dead; and ghosts were not the
  mere chimeras of a sick imagination; but real though unsubstantial entities;
  of which it was almost disgraceful not to have seen one or two。                    Had not
  the Witch of Endor called up the shade of Samuel the prophet?                      Had not
  the spirit of Mis' Molly's dead son appeared to her; as well as the ghostly
  presence of another she had loved?
  In 1855; Mis' Molly's remaining son had grown into a tall; slender lad
  of fifteen; with his father's patrician features and his mother's Indian hair;
  and no external sign to   mark him off from the   white boys on the   street。
  He   soon   came   to   know;   however;   that   there   was   a   difference。    He   was
  informed   one   day   that   he   was   black。      He   denied     the   proposition   and
  thrashed   the   child   who   made   it。    The   scene   was   repeated   the   next   day;
  with a variation;he was himself thrashed by a larger boy。                 When he had
  been   beaten   five   or   six   times;   he   ceased   to   argue   the   point;   though   to
  himself   he   never   admitted   the   charge。      His   playmates   might   call   him
  black; the mirror proved that God; the Father of all; had made him white;
  and God; he had been taught; made no mistakes;having made him white;
  He must have meant him to be white。
  In   the   〃hall〃   or   parlor  of   his   mother's   house stood   a quaintly  carved
  black   walnut   bookcase;   containing   a   small   but   remarkable   collection   of
  books;   which      had   at   one  time   been   used;   in  his   hours   of   retreat  and
  relaxation from business and politics; by the distinguished gentleman who
  did not give his name to Mis' Molly's children;to whom it would have
  been a valuable heritage; could they have had the right to bear it。                 Among
  the books were a volume of Fielding's complete works; in fine print; set in
  double columns; a set of Bulwer's novels; a collection of everything that
  Walter   Scottthe   literary   idol   of   the   Southhad   ever   written;   Beaumont
  106
  … Page 107…
  THE HOUSE BEHIND THE CEDARS
  and    Fletcher's    plays;   cheek    by   jowl   with   the   history   of  the   virtuous
  Clarissa   Harlowe;   the   Spectator   and   Tristram   Shandy;   Robinson   Crusoe
  and   the Arabian   Nights。       On   these   secluded   shelves   Roderick   Random;
  Don   Quixote;   and   Gil   Blas   for   a   long time   ceased   their   wanderings;   the
  Pilgrim's Progress was suspended; Milton's mighty harmonies were dumb;
  and   Shakespeare   reigned   over   a   silent   kingdom。        An   illustrated   Bible;
  with a wonderful Apocrypha; was flanked on one side by Volney's Ruins
  of Empire and on the other by Paine's Age of Reason; for the collector of
  the books had been a man of catholic taste as well as of inquiring mind;
  and no one who could have criticised his reading ever penetrated behind
  the cedar hedge。        A history of the French Revolution consorted amiably
  with a homespun chronicle of North Carolina; rich in biographical notices
  of   distinguished     citizens   and   inscriptions    from   their   tombstones;      upon
  reading which one might well wonder why North Carolina had not long
  ago eclipsed