VII.

"I did not stay long after this; and ours was a strange parting that

evening, if our hearts could have been seen. We felt it a relief to

separate, and yet the very relief was a finer kind of pain. We knew

not what had befallen us; but, perhaps, we both had a hope, then, that

another day would somehow set things right.

"I only took her hand in saying good-bye; but again it seemed as if her

soft fingers were not actually in contact with mine--as if some rival

hand were interposed. And I noticed (as I had done once or twice before

during our latter conversation) that, even while the farewell words were

being spoken, she turned her head abruptly with a startled, listening

expression, as though another voice had spoken close at her ear. I could

hear nothing, nor understand the dimly terrified look in her eyes--a

look appealing and yet shrinking. But afterwards I understood it all.

When I reached the street, I turned back and caught a glimpse of Edna

at the window. Beside her I fancied I distinguished the half-defined

outlines of a strange figure--that of a man who appeared to be

gesticulating in an extravagant manner. But before I could decide

whether it were a shadow or a reality, Edna had turned away, and the

apparition vanished with her."

"Her father, of course," I threw in, with a glance over my shoulder;

"or perhaps it was the footman." Calbot made no reply.

"I got up yesterday morning," said he, "convinced that the whole

thing was a delusion. I took a brisk walk round Hyde Park, ate a good

breakfast, and by eleven o'clock was on my way to her house, sure that

I should find her as cheerfully disposed to laugh at our dolorous

behaviour the night before as I myself was. I went down Piccadilly in

the best of spirits; but on turning the corner of Park Lane, I very

plainly saw three persons coming down towards me."

Here Calbot paused so long that I could hardly refrain from springing

out of my chair. I had never heard him argue a case before a jury; but

had I been the presiding judge himself, I was convinced that Calbot

could have moulded my opinions to whatsoever issue he had pleased. But,

on the other hand, I doubt whether he was aware of his own best powers.

The effect he was now producing on me was certainly not the result of

any premeditated artifice.

"I saw Edna," he finally went on, speaking in a husky labouring tone,

and gazing intently over my shoulder, as if he saw her _there_. "She

was walking in the centre, with a weary lifeless step, her head bent

downwards: on her right was her father, as jolly and portly as ever; and

on her left, Drayton, was the same strange figure of which I fancied I

had caught a glimpse the night before. It was no shadow now, however,

but looked as real and palpable as General Burleigh himself. It appeared

to be diligently addressing itself to Edna, occasionally even stooping

to speak in her ear; and once I saw it put its arm round her waist, and

apparently press its bearded cheek to her own."

"Why, in Heaven's name, Calbot, didn't you----" But there was something

in my friend's eyes, as he turned them on me, which made me break off

just there.

"When I first turned the corner the three were sixty or seventy yards

distant. It struck me at once that Edna seemed to have no direct

consciousness of the stranger's presence. That is, she did not act as if

he were visible to her; though, at the same time, I could hardly doubt

that the _idea_ of him was present to her mind; and from her manner of

involuntary shrinking and starting when the Thing became particularly

demonstrative in its manner, I fancied that the words which it appeared

to address to her insinuated themselves into her brain under the form

of dismal and hateful thoughts. Perhaps, Drayton, the base or wicked

notions that sometimes creep into our minds unawares, asserting

themselves our own, are whispered to us by some evil spirit, invisible

to our sight, but capable of impressing the immaterial part of us all

the more effectively.

"As they drew near, I could no longer doubt that the Thing was viewless,

not only to Edna, but to everyone else besides myself alone. Had it

been otherwise, the figure's remarkable costume, no less than its many

eccentricities, would have drawn a great crowd in a few moments. It was

a tall fantastic apparition, clad in a black velvet cloak and doublet,

silk hose, and high-heeled shoes. On its head was a broad-brimmed hat,

with heavy plumes; there were lace ruffles at its wrists and round

its throat. A long rapier dangled by its side; its beard was gray and

peaked, but a copious powdered wig flowed out beneath the hat and rested

on the shoulders.

"Its gait, as it stalked along the pavement, was mincing and affected,

and under other circumstances I might have laughed at it. Its manner and

gestures were absurdly exaggerated and fantastic. It was continually

bowing and scraping to Edna, and seemingly making hot love to her; but

as often as she winced or shrank from it, it appeared hugely delighted,

throwing up its arms, wagging its head, and contorting its body, as if

carried away by an immoderate fit of laughter.

"The sun was shining broadly, but none of its rays seemed to fall on the

sable garments of this singular personage. In fact, though I saw him as

plainly as I now see you, Drayton, I was, nevertheless, well aware that

here was something more or less than flesh and blood. It was a being of

another state than this mortal one of ours. I say I saw him; and yet I

do not believe that it was with my natural eyesight. A deeper sense of

vision had been temporarily opened within me, and this spectre came

within its scope.

"For a spectre it was. General Burleigh, striding bluffly along by the

other side of his daughter, swinging his cane, twisting his moustaches,

and ever and anon smiling and bowing to a passing friend, was

ludicrously unconscious of there being anything supernatural in his

vicinity. Moreover, I saw at least twenty persons pass the apparition

shoulder to shoulder, evidently without seeing it; though they would

often shiver, and wrap their top-coats or shawls more closely round

them, as if a sudden blast of icy air had penetrated them. All this time

the three were approaching slowly, and were now but little more than

twenty paces distant. I had not moved a step since first coming in view

of them, and had kept my eyes fixed point-blank upon the apparition.

"At this moment I was puzzled to observe that the black-garmented figure

was a good deal less distinctly discernible than when it had been

farther off. The sun was still as bright as ever, the air as clear, but

the outline of the shape was blurred and undefined, as though seen out

of focus through a telescope. General Burleigh now caught sight of

me for the first time, and his cordial gesture of salute caused Edna

quickly to raise her eyes. We saw despair in each other's looks,

and then she dropped her eyes again, and moved wearily onward.

Simultaneously with her glance the spectre (which appeared to be as

unconscious of everything save Edna and myself, as everyone except

us was of it)--the spectre also directed its gaze at me. I can never

forget that face, Drayton. I seemed to grow older and more miserable

as I confronted it. And all the while it was getting less and less

perceptible; now it was magnified, clouded, and distorted; but the

devilish expression of it was still recognisable. Now it faded or

expanded into vagueness; only a foggy shadow seemed gliding by Edna's

side; and when she was within ten paces, and her father's voice was

speaking out its hearty welcome to me, every trace even of the shadow

had disappeared; nothing was left but that chilliness and horror of the

heart which I had felt the night previous, but now vastly intensified,

because I was no longer ignorant of the cause of it. Edna and I would

never again be alone together. This devil was to haunt us henceforth,

mocking our love by its hideous mimicry and derision, marring and

polluting our most sacred secrets, sickening our hearts and paralysing

our hope and reliance in each other. We could neither escape it nor

resist it; and its invisibility when we were together was not the

least fearful thing about it. To see it, awful as it was, must be less

unendurable than to imagine it, unseen; and the certainty that, so

often as I left Edna, I should leave this devil in her company, visible

once more the moment he was out of my reach, but never to be met and

grappled with hand to hand--this was hard to bear! Had ever mortal man

before such a rival?

"All this, of course, was but dimly apprehended by my mind at the time;

but I had sufficient opportunity to muse upon it afterwards. General

Burleigh seized my hand, and shook the head of his cane at me.

"'Shall be obliged to court-martial you, young man! What have you been

doing to my daughter, sir? Why, no one can get a word or a smile out

of her, since you came with your tomfooleries! She keeps all her good

humour for you, confound you! It's witchcraft--you've bewitched my

little girl with your lockets and your necklaces and your tomfooleries!

You've bewitched her--and I'll have you court-martialed, and executed

for witchcraft, by Jove! Ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha!' And with that he

gripped my hand again, and vowing that the club was the only place for

him since I had appeared with my tomfooleries and witchcraft, he swung

round on his heel and strode away, his broad military shoulders shaking

with jollity; and left Edna alone with me--and my rival!

"We strolled off along Piccadilly, and I daresay every man we met was

envying me from the bottom of his heart. But though her arm was in mine,

I knew I might as well have been miles away from her. And we both were

reticent of our words on all matters lying near our hearts, as if that

third presence had been as palpable and visible as it was otherwise

real. We spoke constrainedly and coldly; nay, we even tried not to

_think_ of our love or of our misery, lest it might possess power to see

our thoughts as well as hear our voices. We walked on, seldom looking at

one another, for fear of catching a glimpse of it in each other's eyes.

I saw, however, that Edna still wore her locket--indeed, she had told

me, the night before, that she would never take it off, until I bade her

do so.

"'So your father thinks you bewitched, Edna,' I said at length, trying

to throw off the incubus a little.

"'I am not very well, I think.'

"'He seemed to fancy the spell was connected with that old locket,' I

continued; my very disinclination to the subject driving me to tamper

with it.

"'Perhaps it is,' returned Edna listlessly, lifting her hand for a

moment to her throat. 'I am not quite used to it yet.'

"'To witchcraft, do you mean? You have seen no phantoms, have you?'

"I felt her little hand clutch my arm with an involuntary start. I

looked down, and she met my eye with a blush, and at the same time with

a terrified shrinking expression that was bitter to behold.

"'I see nothing with my open eyes,' she said, scarcely above a whisper;

'but at night--I cannot help my dreams; and they follow me into the

day.'

"It was as I had thought, therefore; the spectre was not objectively

visible to her. She could not get away from her own self, and hence

could gain no point of vantage whence her persecutor could be seen.

There was little doubt, nevertheless, that her mental picture of him

agreed with my ocular experience. It seemed to me, on the whole, that

her burden must be far harder to bear than mine. There is a kind of

relief in being able to face a horror; and my own feelings, since seeing

this evil spirit which was haunting us, had been in a certain sense more

tolerable, if more hopeless, than the night before. But how did I know

what agony she might suffer? Even her innocent sleep was not sacred from

this evil thing; all her maiden reserve and delicacy were outraged; she

could be safe nowhere--no one could protect her; and with me, who would

have given my life to please a whim of hers, her suffering and exposure

must be less endurable than anywhere else. I could well understand her

blush, poor girl--poor girl!"

Not for many years--not since, in fact, certain sad experiences of my

own early days--had I been so deeply stirred as by this recital of

Calbot's. His voice had great compass and expression, and the needs of

his profession had given its natural powers every cultivation. He

had a way of dwelling on certain words, and of occasionally pausing,

or appearing to hesitate, which greatly added to the effect of his

narrative. All this might be acquired by art, but not so the ever

and anon recurring falterings and breaks, into which, as now, he was

unexpectedly betrayed. I felt that it was unwise in me to listen to

him, to sympathise with him, as I was doing; yet could I not find it in

my heart to stop him. All fears of violence on his part had been for

some time past allayed. I was well aware that my encouragement of his

confidences could only result in my passing a feverish uncomfortable

night, and a listless dismal morrow; and yet I forbore to interrupt him.

Ah! it is we old bachelors who have hearts after all.

The Laughing Mill, and Other Stories · 第 27 / 45 题