第 17 节
作者:浮游云中      更新:2021-02-20 16:27      字数:9322
  dream。      For her fevered fancy had in these last days frequently beguiled
  her into similar visions。       She often thought of him; but; strangely enough;
  no more with bitterness; but with pity。            Had he been strong enough to be
  wicked; she could have hated him; but he was weak; and she pitied him。
  Then it was that; one evening; as she heard that the American vessel was
  to sail at daybreak; she took her little boy and wrapped him carefully in
  her   own   clothes;  bade   farewell   to   the   good   fisherman   and   his   wife;   and
  walked alone down to the strand。            Huge clouds of fantastic shapes chased
  each   other   desperately   along   the   horizon;   and   now   and   then   the   slender
  new moon glanced forth from the deep blue gulfs between。                     She chose a
  boat at random and was about to unmoor it; when she saw the figure of a
  man tread carefully over the stones and hesitatingly approach her。
  〃Brita;〃 came in a whisper from the strand。
  〃Who's there?〃
  〃It is I。   Father knows it all; and he has nearly killed me; and mother;
  too。〃
  〃Is that what you have come to tell me?〃
  〃No; I would like   to help you   some。          I have been trying to see   you
  these many days。〃        And he stepped close up to the boat。
  〃Thank you; I need no help。〃
  〃But;   Brita;〃   implored   he;   〃I   have   sold   my   gun   and   my   dog;   and
  everything I had; and this is what I have got for it。〃             He stretched out his
  hand and reached her a red handkerchief with something heavy bound up
  in a corner。     She took it mechanically; held it in her hand for a moment;
  then flung it far out into the  water。          A smile of profound contempt   and
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  TALES FROM TWO HEMISPHERES。
  pity passed over her countenance。
  〃Farewell;   Halvard;〃   said   she;   calmly;   and   pushed   the   boat   into   the
  water。
  〃But; Brita;〃 cried he; in despair; 〃what would you have me do?〃
  She lifted the child in her arms; then pointed to the vacant seat at her
  side。    He understood what she meant; and stood for a moment wavering。
  Suddenly; he covered his face with his hands and burst into tears。                 Within
  half   an   hour;   Brita   boarded   the   vessel;   and   as   the   first   red   stripe   of   the
  dawn illumined the horizon; the wind filled the sails; and the ship glided
  westward toward that land where there is a home for them whom love and
  misfortune have exiled。
  It   was   a   long   and   wearisome   voyage。     There   was   an   old   English
  clergyman on board; who collected curiosities; to him she sold her rings
  and brooches; and thereby obtained more than sufficient money to pay her
  passage。     She hardly  spoke   to   any  one   except   her   child。     Those   of   her
  fellow…parishioners who knew her; and perhaps guessed her history; kept
  aloof    from    her;  and   she   was   grateful   to  them    that  they   did。   From
  morning till night; she sat in a corner between a pile of deck freight and
  the kitchen skylight; and gazed at her little boy who was lying in her lap。
  All her hopes; her future; and her life were in him。              For herself; she had
  ceased to hope。
  〃I   can   give   thee   no   fatherland;   my   child;〃   she   said   to   him。 〃Thou
  shalt never know the name of him who gave thee life。                    Thou and I; we
  shall struggle together; and; as true as there is a God above; who sees us;
  He will not leave either of us to perish。         But let us ask no questions; child;
  about that which is past。        Thou shalt grow and be strong; and thy mother
  must grow with thee。〃
  During the third week of the voyage; the English clergyman baptized
  the boy; and she called him Thomas; after the day in the almanac on which
  he was born。       He should never know that Norway had been his mother's
  home; therefore she would give him no name which might betray his race。
  One morning; early in the month of June; they hailed land; and the great
  New World lay before them。
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  TALES FROM TWO HEMISPHERES。
  III。
  Why should I speak of the ceaseless care; the suffering; and the hard
  toil;   which   made   the   first   few   months   of   Brita's   life   on   this   continent   a
  mere     continued     struggle    for  existence?      They     are  familiar    to  every
  emigrant   who   has   come   here   with   a   brave   heart   and   an   empty   purse。
  Suffice   it   to   say   that   at   the   end   of   the   second   month;   she   succeeded   in
  obtaining service as milkmaid with a family in the neighborhood of New
  York。     With the linguistic talent peculiar to her people; she soon learned
  the English language and even spoke it well。               From her countrymen; she
  kept as far away as possible; not for her own sake; but for that of her boy;
  for he was to grow great and strong; and the knowledge of his birth might
  shatter his strength and break his courage。             For the same reason she also
  exchanged   her   picturesque   Norse   costume   for   that   of   the   people   among
  whom she was living。           She went commonly by the name of Mrs。 Brita;
  which     pronounced      in  the  English    way;    sounded     very   much    like  Mrs。
  Bright; and this at last became the name by which she was known in the
  neighborhood。
  Thus five years passed; then there was a great rage for emigrating to
  the far West; and Brita; with many others; started for Chicago。                 There she
  arrived in the year 1852; and took up her lodgings with an Irish widow;
  who was living in a little cottage in what was then termed the outskirts of
  the city。    Those who saw her in those days; going about the lumber…yards
  and doing a man's work; would hardly have recognized in her the merry
  Glitter…Brita;   who   in   times   of   old   trod   the   spring…dance   so   gayly   in   the
  well…lighted halls of the Blakstad mansion。              And; indeed; she was sadly
  changed!      Her features had become sharper; and the firm lines about her
  mouth expressed severity; almost sternness。              Her clear blue eyes seemed
  to have grown larger; and their glance betrayed secret; ever…watchful care。
  Only her yellow hair had resisted the force of time and sorrow; for it still
  fell   in   rich   and   wavy   folds   over   a   smooth   white   forehead。   She   was;
  indeed; half ashamed   of it;  and often   took pains to   force it   into a sober;
  matronly hood。        Only at nights; when she sat alone talking with her boy;
  she would allow it to escape from its prison; and he would laugh and play
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  TALES FROM TWO HEMISPHERES。
  with   it;   and   in   his   child's   way   even   wonder   at   the   contrast   between   her
  stern face and her youthful maidenly tresses。
  This   Thomas;   her   son;   was   a   strange   child。       He   had   a   Norseman's
  taste for the fabulous and fantastic; and although he never heard a tale of
  Necken   or   the   Hulder;   he   would   often   startle   his   mother   by   the   most
  fanciful combinations of imagined events; and by bolder personifications
  than ever sprung from the legendary soil of the Norseland。                        She always
  took care to check him whenever he indulged in these imaginary flights;
  and   he   at   last   came   to   look   upon   them   as   something   wrong   and   sinful。
  The   boy;   as   he   grew   up;   often   strikingly  reminded   her   of   her   father;   as;
  indeed;     he   seemed      to  have    inherited    more     from    her   own    than    from
  Halvard's   race。      Only   the   bright   flaxen   hair   and   his   square;   somewhat
  clumsy stature might have told him to be the latter's child。                    He had a hot
  temper;   and   often   distressed   his   mother   by   his   stubbornness;   and   then
  there would come a great burst of repentance afterwards; which distressed
  her still more。      For she was afraid it might be a sign of weakness。                   〃And
  strong   he   must   be;〃   said   she   to   herself;   〃strong   enough   to   overcome   all
  resistance; and to conquer a great name for himself; strong enough to bless
  a mother who brought him into the world nameless。〃
  Strange to say; much as she loved this child; she seldom caressed him。
  It   was   a   penance   she   had   imposed   upon   herself   to   atone   for   her   guilt。
  Only at times; when she had be