第 17 节
作者:温暖寒冬      更新:2024-04-09 19:50      字数:9240
  nailed down; and Adam and Seth were on their way home。   They
  chose   a   shorter   way   homewards;   which   would   take   them   across
  the   fields   and    the   brook   in   front   of  the  house。    Adam      had   not
  mentioned   to   Seth   what   had   happened   in   the   night;   but   he   still
  retained sufficient impression from it himself to say; “Seth; lad; if
  Father   isn’t   come   home   by   the   time   we’ve   had   our   breakfast;   I
  think   it’ll   be   as   well   for   thee   to   go   over   to   Treddles’on   and   look
  after him; and thee canst get me the brass wire I want。 Never mind
  about losing an hour at thy work; we can make that up。 What dost
  say?”
  “I’m   willing;”   said   Seth。   “But   see   what   clouds   have   gathered
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  since   we   set  out。   I’m   thinking  we   shall   have   more   rain。   It’ll   be   a
  sore time for th’ haymaking if the meadows are flooded again。 The
  brook’s fine and full now: another day’s rain ’ud cover the plank;
  and we should have to go round by the road。”
  They were coming across the valley now; and had entered the
  pasture through which the brook ran。
  “Why; what’s that sticking against the willow?” continued Seth;
  beginning   to   walk   faster。   Adam’s       heart   rose   to  his  mouth:     the
  vague anxiety about his father was changed into a great dread。 He
  made no answer to Seth; but ran forward preceded   by  Gyp;   who
  began to bark uneasily; and in two moments he was at the bridge。
  This    was   what    the  omen     meant;    then!    And    the  grey…haired
  father;   of   whom   he   had   thought   with   a   sort   of   hardness   a   few
  hours ago; as certain to live to be a thorn in his side was perhaps
  even   then   struggling   with   that   watery   death!   This   was   the   first
  thought   that   flashed   through   Adam’s   conscience;   before   he   had
  time to seize the coat and drag out the tall heavy body。 Seth was
  already   by   his   side;   helping   him;   and   when   they   had   it   on   the
  bank; the two sons in the first moment knelt and looked with mute
  awe at the glazed eyes; forgetting that there was need for action—
  forgetting  everything   but   that   their   father   lay   dead   before   them。
  Adam was the first to speak。
  “I’ll run to Mother;” he said; in a loud whisper。 “I’ll be back to
  thee in a minute。”
  Poor Lisbeth was busy preparing her sons’ breakfast; and their
  porridge   was   already   steaming   on   the   fire。   Her   kitchen       always
  looked the pink of cleanliness; but this morning she was more than
  usually     bent    on   making     her   hearth     and   breakfast…table      look
  comfortable and inviting。
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  “The   lads   ’ull be   fine   an’   hungry;”   she said;   half…aloud;   as   she
  stirred   the   porridge。   “It’s a   good   step   to   Brox’on;   an’   it’s   hungry
  air o’er the hill—wi’ that heavy coffin too。 Eh! It’s heavier now; wi’
  poor  Bob   Tholer  in   ’t。   Howiver;   I’ve   made a   drap   more   porridge
  nor common this mornin’。 The feyther ’ull happen come in arter a
  bit。 Not as he’ll ate much porridge。 He swallers sixpenn’orth o’ ale;
  an’    saves   a  hap’orth     o’  por…ridge—that’s        his  way    o’  layin’   by
  money; as I’ve told him many a time; an’ am likely to tell him again
  afore the day’s out。 Eh; poor mon; he takes it quiet enough; there’s
  no denyin’ that。”
  But now Lisbeth heard the heavy “thud” of a running footstep
  on the turf; and; turning quickly towards the door; she saw Adam
  enter; looking so pale and overwhelmed that she screamed aloud
  and rushed towards him before he had time to speak。
  “Hush;      Mother;”      Adam      said;    rather    hoarsely;     “don’t     be
  frightened。 Father’s tumbled into the water。 Belike we may bring
  him   round   again。   Seth   and   me   are   going   to   carry   him   in。   Get   a
  blanket and make it hot as the fire。”
  In reality Adam was convinced that his father was dead but he
  knew      there    was     no   other    way     of  repressing      his    mother’s
  impetuous   wailing   grief   than   by   occupying   her   with   some   active
  task which had hope in it。
  He ran back to Seth; and the two sons lifted the sad burden in
  heart…stricken silence。 The wide…open glazed eyes were grey; like
  Seth’s;   and   had   once   looked   with   mild   pride   on   the   boys   before
  whom   Thias   had   lived   to   hang   his   head   in   shame。   Seth’s   chief
  feeling was awe and distress at this sudden snatching away of his
  father’s   soul;   but   Adam’s   mind   rushed   back   over   the   past   in   a
  flood of relenting and pity。 When death; the great Reconciler; has
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  come;      it  is  never   our    tenderness      that   we    repent    of;  but   our
  severity。
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  Chapter V
  The Rector
  efore twelve o’clock there had been some heavy storms of
  Brain; and the water lay in deep gutters on the sides of the
  gravel    walks    in  the   garden    of  Broxton     Parsonage;      the
  great   Provence   roses   had   been   cruelly   tossed   by   the   wind   and
  beaten   by   the   rain;   and   all   the   delicate…stemmed   border   flowers
  had     been    dashed      down     and    stained     with   the    wet   soil。   A
  melancholy        morning—because          it  was    nearly   time    hay…harvest
  should begin;  and   instead   of   that   the   meadows   were   likely   to   be
  flooded。
  But   people   who   have   pleasant   homes   get   indoor   enjoyments
  that they would never think of but for the rain。 If it had not been a
  wet morning; Mr。 Irwine would not have been in the dining…room
  playing at chess with his mother; and he loves both his mother and
  chess quite well enough to pass some cloudy hours very easily by
  their  help。   Let  me   take   you   into   that   dining…room   and   show   you
  the  Rev。   Adolphus   Irwine;   Rector  of   Broxton;   Vicar   of   Hayslope;
  and    Vicar    of  Blythe;   a  pluralist   at  whom      the  severest    Church
  reformer would have found it difficult to look sour。 We will enter
  very  softly  and   stand still   in   the   open   doorway;   without   awaking
  the   glossy…brown   setter   who   is   stretched   across   the   hearth;   with
  her   two   puppies   beside   her;   or   the   pug;   who   is   dozing;   with   his
  black muzzle aloft; like a sleepy president。
  The room is a large and lofty one; with an ample mullioned oriel
  window       at  one   end;   the   walls;  you    see;  are   new;   and   not   yet
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  painted; but the furniture; though originally of an expensive sort;
  is old and scanty; and there is no drapery about the window。 The
  crimson       cloth   over    the   large    dining…table      is  very    threadbare;
  though   it   contrasts   pleasantly   enough   with   the   dead   hue   of   the
  plaster   on   the   walls;   but   on   this   cloth   there   is   a   massive   silver
  waiter with a decanter of water on it; of the same pattern   as   two
  larger  ones   that are   propped   up   on   the   sideboard   with   a   coat   of
  arms   conspicuous   in   their   centre。   You   suspect   at   once   that   the
  inhabitants   of  this   room   have   inherited   more   blood   than   wealth;
  and would not be surprised to find that Mr。 Irwine had a finely cut
  nostril and upper lip; but at present we can only see that he has a
  broad   flat   back   and   an   abundance   of   powdered   hair;   all   thrown
  backward         and    tied    behind      with    a   black     ribbon—a        bit   of
  conservatism   in   costume   which   tells   you   that   he   is   not