还乡The Return Of The Native-第66部分

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“Oh；　‘tis　not　much。　　I　have　changed　my　things。　　This　is　only　a　little　dampness　I’ve　got　ing　through　the　rain　again。”
“Stand　by　the　fire。　　Mis’ess　says　you　be　to　have　whatever　you　want；　and　she　was　sorry　when　she　was　told　that　you’d　gone　away。”
Venn　drew　near　to　the　fireplace；　and　looked　into　the　flames　in　an　absent　mood。　　The　steam　came　from　his　leggings　and　ascended　the　chimney　with　the　smoke；　while　he　thought　of　those　who　were　upstairs。　　Two　were　corpses；　one　had　barely　escaped　the　jaws　of　death；　another　was　sick　and　a　widow。　　The　last　occasion　on　which　he　had　lingered　by　that　fireplace　was　when　the　raffle　was　in　progress；　when　Wildeve　was　alive　and　well；　Thomasin　active　and　smiling　in　the　next　room；
Yeobright　and　Eustacia　just　made　husband　and　wife；　and　Mrs。　Yeobright　living　at　Blooms…End。　It　had　seemed　at　that　time　that　the　then　position　of　affairs　was　good　for　at　least　twenty　years　to　e。　　Yet；　of　all　the　circle；　he　himself　was　the　only　one　whose　situation　had　not　materially　changed。　
While　he　ruminated　a　footstep　descended　the　stairs。　　It　was　the　nurse；　who　brought　in　her　hand　a　rolled　mass　of　wet　paper。　　The　woman　was　so　engrossed　with　her　occupation　that　she　hardly　saw　Venn。　　She　took　from　a　cupboard　some　pieces　of　twine；　which　she　strained　across　the　fireplace；　tying　the　end　of　each　piece　to　the　firedog；　previously　pulled　forward　for　the　purpose；　and；　unrolling　the　wet　papers；　she　began　pinning　them　one　by　one　to　the　strings　in　a　manner　of　clothes　on　a　line。　
“What　be　they？”　said　Venn。　
“Poor　master’s　banknotes；”　she　answered。　　“They　were　found　in　his　pocket　when　they　undressed　him。”
“Then　he　was　not　ing　back　again　for　some　time？”　said　Venn。
“That　we　shall　never　know；”　said　she。　
Venn　was　loth　to　depart；　for　all　on　earth　that　interested　him　lay　under　this　roof。　　As　nobody　in　the　house　had　any　more　sleep　that　night；　except　the　two　who　slept　for　ever；　there　was　no　reason　why　he　should　not　remain。　　So　he　retired　into　the　niche　of　the　fireplace　where　he　had　used　to　sit；　and　there　he　continued；　watching　the　steam　from　the　double　row　of　banknotes　as　they　waved　backwards　and　forwards　in　the　draught　of　the　chimney　till　their　flaccidity　was　changed　to　dry　crispness　throughout。　　Then　the　woman　came　and　unpinned　them；　and；　folding　them　together；　carried　the　handful　upstairs。　　Presently　the　doctor　appeared　from　above　with　the　look　of　a　man　who　could　do　no　more；　and；　pulling　on　his　gloves；　went　out　of　the　house；　the　trotting　of　his　horse　soon　dying　away　upon　the　road。　
At　four　o’clock　there　was　a　gentle　knock　at　the　door。　　It　was　from　Charley；　who　had　been　sent　by　Captain　Vye　to　inquire　if　anything　had　been　heard　of　Eustacia。　　The　girl　who　admitted　him　looked　in　his　face　as　if　she　did　not　know　what　answer　to　return；　and　showed　him　in　to　where　Venn　was　seated；　saying　to　the　reddleman；　“Will　you　tell　him；　please？”
Venn　told。　　Charley’s　only　utterance　was　a　feeble；　indistinct　sound。　　He　stood　quite　still；　then　he　burst　out　spasmodically；　“I　shall　see　her　once　more？”
“I　dare　say　you　may　see　her；”　said　Diggory　gravely。　
“But　hadn’t　you　better　run　and　tell　Captain　Vye？”
“Yes；　yes。　　Only　I　do　hope　I　shall　see　her　just　once　again。”
“You　shall；”　said　a　low　voice　behind；　and　starting　round　they　beheld　by　the　dim　light；　a　thin；　pallid；　almost　spectral　form；　wrapped　in　a　blanket；　and　looking　like　Lazarus　ing　from　the　tomb。　
It　was　Yeobright。　　Neither　Venn　nor　Charley　spoke；　and　Clym　continued；　“You　shall　see　her。　　There　will　be　time　enough　to　tell　the　captain　when　it　gets　daylight。　　You　would　like　to　see　her　too—would　you　not；　Diggory？　　She　looks　very　beautiful　now。”
Venn　assented　by　rising　to　his　feet；　and　with　Charley　he　followed　Clym　to　the　foot　of　the　staircase；　where　he　took　off　his　boots；　Charley　did　the　same。　　They　followed　Yeobright　upstairs　to　the　landing；　where　there　was　a　candle　burning；　which　Yeobright　took　in　his　hand；　and　with　it　led　the　way　into　an　adjoining　room。　　Here　he　went　to　the　bedside　and　folded　back　the　sheet。　
They　stood　silently　looking　upon　Eustacia；　who；　as　she　lay　there　still　in　death；　eclipsed　all　her　living　phases。　　Pallor　did　not　include　all　the　quality　of　her　plexion；　which　seemed　more　than　whiteness；　it　was　almost　light。　　The　expression　of　her　finely　carved　mouth　was　pleasant；　as　if　a　sense　of　dignity　had　just　pelled　her　to　leave　off　speaking。　　Eternal　rigidity　had　seized　upon　it　in　a　momentary　transition　between　fervour　and　resignation。　　Her　black　hair　was　looser　now　than　either　of　them　had　ever　seen　it　before；　and　surrounded　her　brow　like　a　forest。　　The　stateliness　of　look　which　had　been　almost　too　marked　for　a　dweller　in　a　country　domicile　had　at　last　found　an　artistically　happy　background。　
Nobody　spoke；　till　at　length　Clym　covered　her　and　turned　aside。　　“Now　e　here；”　he　said。　
They　went　to　a　recess　in　the　same　room；　and　there；　on　a　smaller　bed；　lay　another　figure—Wildeve。　Less　repose　was　visible　in　his　face　than　in　Eustacia’s；　but　the　same　luminous　youthfulness　overspread　it；　and　the　least　sympathetic　observer　would　have　felt　at　sight　of　him　now　that　he　was　born　for　a　higher　destiny　than　this。　　The　only　sign　upon　him　of　his　recent　struggle　for　life　was　in　his　fingertips；　which　were　worn　and　sacrificed　in　his　dying　endeavours　to　obtain　a　hold　on　the　face　of　the　weir…wall。
Yeobright’s　manner　had　been　so　quiet；　he　had　uttered　so　few　syllables　since　his　reappearance；　that　Venn　imagined　him　resigned。　　It　was　only　when　they　had　left　the　room　and　stood　upon　the　landing　that　the　true　state　of　his　mind　was　apparent。　　Here　he　said；　with　a　wild　smile；　inclining　his　head　towards　the　chamber　in　which　Eustacia　lay；　“She　is　the　second　woman　I　have　killed　this　year。　　I　was　a　great　cause　of　my　mother’s　death；　and　I　am　the　chief　cause　of　hers。”
“How？”　said　Venn。　
“I　spoke　cruel　words　to　her；　and　she　left　my　house。　　I　did　not　invite　her　back　till　it　was　too　late。　　It　is　I　who　ought　to　have　drowned　myself。　　It　would　have　been　a　charity　to　the　living　had　the　river　overwhelmed　me　and　borne　her　up。　　But　I　cannot　die。　　Those　who　ought　to　have　lived　lie　dead；　and　here　am　I　alive！”
“But　you　can’t　charge　yourself　with　crimes　in　that　way；”　said　Venn。　　“You　may　as　well　say　that　the　parents　be　the　cause　of　a　murder　by　the　child；　for　without　the　parents　the　child　would　never　have　been　begot。”
“Yes；　Venn；　that　is　very　true；　but　you　don’t　know　all　the　circumstances。　　If　it　had　pleased　God　to　put　an　end　to　me　it　would　have　been　a　good　thing　for　all。　　But　I　am　getting　used　to　the　horror　of　my　existence。　　They　say　that　a　time　es　when　men　laugh　at　misery　through　long　acquaintance　with　it。　　Surely　that　time　will　soon　e　to　me！”
“Your　aim　has　always　been　good；”　said　Venn。　　“Why　should　you　say　such　desperate　things？”
“No；　they　are　not　desperate。　　They　are　only　hopeless；　and　my　great　regret　is　that　for　what　I　have　done　no　man　or　law　can　punish　me！”


book　six
AFTERCOURSES


1　… The　Inevitable　Movement　Onward


The　story　of　the　deaths　of　Eustacia　and　Wildeve　was　told　throughout　Egdon；　and　far　beyond；　for　many　weeks　and　months。　　All　the　known　incidents　of　their　love　were　enlarged；　distorted；　touched　up；　and　modified；　till　the　original　reality　bore　but　a　slight　resemblance　to　the　counterfeit　presentation　by　surrounding　tongues。　　Yet；　upon　the　whole；　neither　the　man　nor　the　woman　lost　dignity　by　sudden　death。　　Misfortune　had　struck　them　gracefully；　cutting　off　their　erratic　histories　with　a　catastrophic　dash；　instead　of；　as　with　many；　attenuating　each　life　to　an　uninteresting　meagreness；　through　long　years　of　wrinkles；　neglect；　and　decay。　
On　those　most　nearly　concerned　the　effect　was　somewhat　different。　　Strangers　who　had　heard　of　many　such　cases　now　merely　heard　of　one　more；　but　immediately　where　a　blow　falls　no　previous　imaginings　amount　to　appreciable　preparation　for　it。　　The　very　suddenness　of　her　bereavement　dulled；　to　some　extent；　Thomasin’s　feelings；　yet　irrationally　enough；　a　consciousness　that　the　husband　she　had　lost　ought　to　have　been　a　better　man　did　not　lessen　her　mourning　at　all。　　On　the　contrary；　this　fact　seemed　at　first　to　set　off　the　dead　husband　in　his　young　wife’s　eyes；　and　to　be　the　necessary　cloud　to　the　rainbow。
But　the　horrors　of　the　unknown　had　passed。　　Vague　misgivings　about　her　future　as　a　deserted　wife　were　at　an　end。　　The　worst　had　once　been　matter　of　trembling　conjecture；　it　was　now　matter　of　reason　only；　a　limited　badness。　　Her　chief　interest；　the　little　Eustacia；　still　remained。　　There　was　humility　in　her　grief；　no　defiance　in　her　attitude；　and　when　this　is　the　case　a　shaken　spirit　is　apt　to　be　stilled。　
Could　Thomasin’s　mournfulness　now　and　Eustacia’s　serenity　during　life　have　been　reduced　to　mon　measure；　they　would　have　touched　the　same　mark　nearly。　　But　Thomasin’s　former　brightness　made　shadow　of　that　which　in　a　sombre　atmosphere　was　light　itself。　
The　spring　came　and　calmed　her；　the　summer　came　and　soothed　her；　the　autumn　arrived；　and　she　began　to　be　forted；　for　her　little　girl　was　strong　and　happy；　growing　in　size　and　knowledge　every　day。　　Outward　events　flattered　Thomasin　not　a　little。　　Wildeve　had　died　intestate；　and　she　and　the　child　were　his　only　relatives。　　When　administration　had　been　granted；　all　the　debts　paid；　and　the　residue　of　her　husband’s　uncle’s　property　had　e　into　her　hands；　it　was　found　that　the　sum　waiting　to　be　invested　for　her　own　and　the　child’s　benefit　was　little　less　than　ten　thousand　pounds。　
Where　should　she　live？　　The　obvious　place　was　Blooms…End。　　The　old　rooms；　it　is　true；　were　not　much　higher　than　the　between…decks　of　a　frigate；　necessitating　a　sinking　in　the　floor　under　the　new　clock…case　she　brought　from　the　inn；　and　the　removal　of　the　handsome　brass　knobs　on　its　head；　before　there　was　height　for　it　to　stand；　but；　such　as　the　rooms　were；　there　were　plenty　of　them；　and　the　place　was　endeared　to　her　by　every　early　recollection。　　Clym　very　gladly　admitted　her　as　a　tenant；　confining　his　own　existence　to　two　rooms　at　the　top　of　the　back　staircase；　where　he　lived　on　quietly；　shut　off　from　Thomasin　and　the　three　servants　she　had　thought　fit　to　indulge　in　now　that　she　was　a　mistress　of　money；　going　his　own　ways；　and　thinking　his　own　thoughts。　
His　sorrows　had　made　some　change　in　his　outward　appearance；　and　yet　the　alteration　was　chiefly　within。　　It　might　have　been　said　that　he　had　a　wrinkled　mind。　　He　had　no　enemies；　and　he　could　get　nobody　to　reproach　him；　which　was　why　he　so　bitterly　reproached　himself。　
He　did　sometimes　think　he　had　been　ill…used　by　fortune；　so　far　as　to　say　that　to　be　born　is　a　palpable　dilemma；　and　that　instead　of　men　aiming　to　advance　in　life　with　glory　they　should　calculate　how　to　retreat　out　of　it　without　shame。　　But　that　he　and　his　had　been　sarcastically　and　pitilessly　handled　in　having　such　irons　thrust　into　their　souls　he　did　not　maintain　long。　　It　is　usually　so；　except　with　the　sternest　of　men。　　Human　beings；　in　their　generous　endeavour　to　construct　a　hypothesis　that　shall　not　degrade　a　First　Cause；　have　always　hesitated　to　conceive　a　dominant　power　of　lower　moral　quality　than　their　own；　and；　even　while　they　sit　down　and　weep　by　the　waters　of　Babylon；　invent　excuses　for　the　oppression　which　prompts　their　tears。　
Thus；　though　words　of　solace　were　vainly　uttered　in　his　p