第 9 节
作者:想聊      更新:2021-02-19 00:37      字数:9322
  exactly as they had occurred。          But there would be a deuce of a muddle if
  he   had   to   make   statements   and   describe   the   exact   sequence   of   recent
  incidents。     Already he forgot the exact sequence。 It seemed ages since he
  parted from May。         He broke off there; rose; drank a glass of water; and
  lighted    a  cigarette。    He    shook    himself    into   wakefulness;     condemned
  himself for   this debauch of   weak…minded thinking;  found   the time   to   be
  three o'clock; and brushed the whole cobweb tangle from his mind。                      He
  knew that sudden warmth after cold will often induce sleep … a fact proved
  by incidents of his campaigns … so he trudged up and down and opened his
  window and let the cool breath of the night chill his forehead and breast
  for five minutes。
  This action calmed him; and he headed himself off from returning to
  the subject。     He felt that mental dread and discomfort were only waiting
  to break out again; but he smothered them; returned to bed; and succeeded
  in keeping his mind on neutral … tinted matter until he fell asleep。
  He woke again before he was called; rose and went to his bath。                    He
  took   it   cold;   and   it   refreshed   him   and   cleared   his   head;   for   he   had   a
  headache。      Everything was changed; and the phantoms of his imagination
  remained only as memories to be laughed at。               He no longer felt alarm or
  anxiety。     He dressed presently; and guessing that Tom; always the first to
  rise; might already be out of doors; he strolled on to the terrace presently
  to meet him there。
  Already he speculated whether an apology was due from him to May;
  or   whether   he   might   himself   expect   one。     It   didn't   matter。  He   knew
  perfectly well that Tom was all right now; and that was the only thing that
  signified。
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  THE GREY ROOM
  CHAPTER III
  AT THE ORIEL
  Chadlands sprang into existence when the manor houses of England …
  save for the persistence of occasional embattled parapets and other warlike
  survivals of unrestful days now past … had obeyed the laws of architectural
  evolution;   and   begun   to   approach   a   future   of   cleanliness   and   comfort;
  rising to luxury hitherto unknown。           The development of this ancient mass
  was displayed in plan as much as in elevation; and; at its date; the great
  mansion had stood for the last word of perfection; when men thought on
  large lines and the conditions of labour made possible achievements now
  seldom within the power of a private purse。               Much had since been done;
  but the main architectural features were preserved; though the interior of
  the great house was transformed。
  The manor of Chadlands extended to some fifty thousand acres lying
  in   a  river  valley   between     the   heights   of  Haldon     on  the   east  and   the
  frontiers of Dartmoor westerly。           The little township was connected by a
  branch with the Great Western Railway; and the station lay five miles from
  the manor house。         No more perfect parklands; albeit on a modest scale;
  existed   in   South   Devon;   and   the   views   of   the   surrounding   heights   and
  great vale opening from the estate caused pleasure alike to those contented
  with obvious beauty and the small number of spectators who understood
  the significance of what constitutes really distinguished landscape。
  Eastward;      long   slopes   of  herbage     and   drifts  of  azaleas…a    glorious
  harmony   of   gold;   scarlet;   and   orange   in   June…sloped   upwards   to   larch
  woods;   while   the   gardens   of   pleasure;   watered   by   a   little   trout   stream;
  spread   beneath   the   manor   house;   and   behind   it   rose   hot…houses   and   the
  glass   and   walled   gardens   of   fruit   and   vegetables。 To   the   south   and   west
  opened   park   and   vale;   where   receded   forest   and   fallow   lands;   until   the
  grey ramparts of the moor ascending beyond them hemmed in the picture。
  Sir   Walter   Lennox   had   devoted   himself   to   the   sporting   side   of   the
  estate and had made it famous in this respect。              His father; less interested
  in   shooting    and    hunting;   had   devoted     time   and   means    to  the   flower
  gardens;   and   rendered   them   as   rich   as   was   possible   in   his   day;   while
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  THE GREY ROOM
  earlier    yet;  Sir  Walter's    grandfather     had   been   more    concerned      for  the
  interior; and had done much to enrich and beautify it。
  A great terrace stretched between the south front and a balustrade of
  granite;   that   separated   it   from   the   gardens   spreading   at   a   lower   level。
  Here walked Henry Lennox and sought Tom May。                       It was now past eight
  o'clock     on   Sunday     morning;      and   he   found    himself    alone。    The    sun;
  breaking through heaviness of morning clouds; had risen clear of Haldon
  Hills   and   cast   a   radiance;   still   dimmed   by   vapour;   over   the   glow   of   the
  autumn trees。       Subdued sounds of birds came from the glades below; and
  far   distant;   from   the   scrub   at  the   edge   of  the   woods;    pheasants     were
  crowing。      The morning sparkled; and; in a scene so fair; Henry found his
  spirits rise。    Already the interview with Mary's husband on the preceding
  night seemed remote and unreal。             He was; however; conscious that he had
  made an ass of himself; but he did not much mind; for it could not be said
  that May had shone; either。
  He   called   him;  and;   for   reply;  an   old   spaniel   emerged   from  beneath;
  climbed a flight of broad steps that ascended to the terrace; and paddled up
  to   Henry;   wagging   his   tail。   He   was   a   very   ancient   hero;   whose   record
  among      the   wild   duck    still  remained    a  worthy     memory      and   won    him
  honour in his declining days。          The age of 〃Prince〃 remained doubtful; but
  he   was   decrepit   now   …   gone   in   the   hams   and   suffering   from   cataract   of
  both eyes … a disease to which it is impossible to minister in a dog。                    But
  his life was good to him; he still got about; slept in the sun; and shared the
  best    his   master's     dish   could     offer。    Sir    Walter    adored     him;    and
  immediately  felt   uneasy  if the   creature   did   not   appear   when   summoned。
  Often; had he been invisible too long; his master would wander whistling
  round his haunts。        Then he would find him; or be himself found; and feel
  easy again。
  〃Prince〃   went   in   to   the   open   window   of   the   breakfast…room;   while
  Henry; moved by a thought; walked round the eastern angle of the house
  and looked up at the oriel window of the Grey Room; where it hung aloft
  on    the  side   of  the   wall;  like   a  brilliant  bubble;    and   flashed    with   the
  sunshine   that   now   irradiated   the   casement。   To   his   surprise   he   saw   the
  window was thrown open and that May; still in his pyjamas; knelt on the
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  THE GREY ROOM
  cushioned recess within and looked out at the morning。
  〃Good lord; old chap!〃 he cried; 〃Needn't ask you if you have slept。 It's
  nearly nine o'clock。〃
  But the other made no response whatever。                He continued to gaze far
  away over Henry's head at the sunrise; while the morning breeze moved
  his dark hair。
  〃Tom!      Wake up!〃 shouted Lennox again; but still the other did not
  move   a   muscle。      Then   Henry   noticed   that   he   was   unusually   pale;   and
  something about his unwinking eyes also seemed foreign to an intelligent
  expression。      They were set; and no movement of light played upon them。
  It seemed that the watcher was in a trance。 Henry felt his heart jump; and a
  sensation     of   alarm   sharpened   his   thought。      For   him   the   morning     was
  suddenly   transformed;   and   fearing   an   evil   thing   had   indeed   befallen   the
  other;   he   turned   to   the   terrace   and   entered   the   breakfast…room   from   it。
  The time was now five minutes to nine; and as unfailing punctuality had
  ever been a foible of Sir Walter; his guests usually respected it。                 Most of
  them were already assembled; and Mary May; who was just stepping into
  the garden; asked Henry