第 13 节
作者:吹嘻      更新:2021-02-27 02:30      字数:9321
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  carrying   it   for   him。   His   dark   face   became   suddenly   irradiated       with    a
  terrible joy。
  〃Come!〃 he cried。 〃Over the snow and over the ice! Come! where no
  human   footsteps   have   ever   trodden;   and   where   no   human   trace   is   ever
  left。〃
  Blindly;     instinctively;   Crayford      made    an   effort   to  part   them。   His
  brother officers; standing near; pulled him back。 They looked at each other
  anxiously。   The   merciless   cold;   striking   its   victims   in   various   ways;   had
  struck in some instances at their reason first。 Everybody loved Crayford。
  Was   he;   too;   going   on   the   dark   way   that   others   had   taken   before   him?
  They   forced      him   to  seat   himself    on   one   of  the  lockers。    〃Steady;    old
  fellow!〃 they  said   kindly〃steady!〃   Crayford   yielded;   writhing   inwardly
  under the sense of his own helplessness。 What in God's name could he do?
  Could     he   denounce      Wardour      to  Captain    Helding     on   bare   suspicion
  without   so   much   as   the  shadow   of   a  proof  to   justify   what   he   said?   The
  captain would decline to insult one of his officers by even mentioning the
  monstrous accusation to him。 The captain would conclude; as others had
  already  concluded;   that   Crayford's   mind   was   giving   way  under   stress   of
  cold and privation。 No hopeliterally; no hope now; but in the numbers of
  the   expedition。   Officers   and   men;   they   all   liked   Frank。 As   long   as   they
  could stir hand or foot; they would help him on the waythey would see
  that no harm came to him。
  The word of command was given; the door was thrown open; the hut
  emptied rapidly。 Over the merciless white snowunder the merciless black
  skythe exploring party began to move。 The sick and helpless men; whose
  last hope of rescue centered in their departing messmates; cheered faintly。
  Some   few   whose   days   were   numbered   sobbed   and   cried   like   women。
  Frank's voice faltered as he turned back at the door to say his last words to
  the friend who had been a father to him。
  〃God bless you; Crayford!〃
  Crayford      broke    away     from    the  officers    near   him;    and;   hurrying
  forward;  seized   Frank by  both hands。   Crayford   held him  as   if   he   would
  never let him go。
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  〃God preserve you; Frank! I would give all I have in the world to be
  with you。 Good…by! Good…by!〃
  Frank waved his        handdas hed away the tears that were gathering in
  his   eyesand   hurried   out。   Crayford   called   after   him;   the   last;   the   only
  warning that he could give:
  〃While you can stand; keep with the main body; Frank!〃
  Wardour;   waiting   till   the   lastWardour;   following   Frank   through   the
  snow…driftstopped; stepped back; and answered Crayford at the door:
  〃While he can stand; he keeps with Me。〃
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  Third Scene
  The Iceberg。
  Chapter 12。
  Alone! alone on the Frozen Deep!
  The Arctic sun is rising dimly in the dreary sky。 The beams of the cold
  northern     moon;     mingling     strangely   with    the  dawning     light;   clothe   the
  snowy   plains   in   hues   of   livid   gray。   An   ice…field   on   the   far   horizon   is
  moving slowly southward in   the spectral light。 Nearer;  a stream of   open
  water   rolls   its   slow   black   waves   past   the   edges   of   the   ice。   Nearer   still;
  following the drift; an iceberg rears its crags and pinnacles to the sky; here;
  glittering in the moonbeams; there; looming dim and ghost…like in the ashy
  light。
  Midway   on   the   long   sweep   of   the   lower   slope   of   the   iceberg;   what
  objects rise; and break the desolate monotony of the scene? In this awful
  solitude;   can    signs   appear    which    tell   of  human    Life?   Yes!    The   black
  outline of a boat just shows itself; hauled up on the berg。 In an ice…cavern
  behind   the   boat   the   last   red   embers   of   a   dying   fire   flicker   from   time   to
  time over the figures of two men。 One is seated; resting his back against
  the   side   of   the   cavern。   The   other   lies   prostrate;   with   his   head   on   his
  comrade's knee。 The first of these men is awake; and thinking。 The second
  reclines; with his still white face turned up to the skysleeping or dead。
  Days   and   days   since;   these   two   have   fallen   behind   on   the   march   of   the
  expedition of relief。 Days and days since; these two have been given up by
  their   weary   and   failing   companions   as   doomed   and   lost。   He   who   sits
  thinking     is  Richard    Wardour。     He    who    lies  sleeping    or  dead    is  Frank
  Aldersley。
  The iceberg drifts slowly; over the black water; through the ashy light。
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  Minute by minute the lying fire sinks。 Minute by minute the deathly cold
  creeps nearer and nearer to the lost men。
  Richard Wardour   rouses   himself   from  his   thoughtslooks   at   the   still
  white face beneath himand places his hand on Frank's heart。 It still beats
  feebly。 Give him his share of the food and fuel still stored in the boat; and
  Frank   may   live   through   it。   Leave   him   neglected   where   he   lies;   and   his
  death is a question of hoursperhaps minutes; who knows?
  Richard Wardour lifts the sleeper's head and rests it against the cavern
  side。 He goes to the boat; and returns with a billet of wood。 He stoops to
  place the wood on the fireand stops。 Frank is dreaming; and murmuring
  in his dream。 A woman's name passes his lips。 Frank is in England again
  at the ballwhispering to Clara the confession of his love。
  Over   Richard   Wardour's   face   there   passes   the   shadow   of   a   deadly
  thought。 He rises from the fire; he takes the wood back to the boat。 His
  iron strength is shaken; but it still holds out。 They are drifting nearer and
  nearer to the open sea。 He can launch the boat without help; he can take
  the food and the fuel with him。 The sleeper on the iceberg is the man who
  has robbed him of Clarawho has wrecked the hope and the happiness of
  his life。 Leave the man in his sleep; and let him die!
  So   the   tempter   whispers。   Richard   Wardour   tries   his   strength   on   the
  boat。   It   moves:   he   has   got   it   under   control。   He   stops;   and   looks   round。
  Beyond him is the open sea。 Beneath him is the man who has robbed him
  of Clara。 The shadow of the deadly thought grows and darkens over his
  face。 He waits with his hands on the boatwaits and thinks。
  The iceberg drifts slowlyover the black water; through the ashy light。
  Minute by minute; the dying fire sinks。 Minute by minute; the deathly cold
  creeps nearer to the sleeping man。 And still Richard Wardour waitswaits
  and thinks。
  Fourth Scene。
  The Garden。
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  Chapter 13。
  The spring has come。 The air of the April night just lifts the leaves of
  the sleeping flowers。 The moon is queen in the cloudless and starless sky。
  The stillness of the midnight hour is abroad; over land and over sea。
  In a villa on the westward shore of the Isle of Wight; the glass doors
  which lead from the drawing…room to the garden are yet open。 The shaded
  lamp yet burns on the table。 A lady sits by the lamp; reading。 From time to
  time she looks   out into  the garden;  and sees the white…robed   figure of  a
  young girl pacing slowly to and fro in the soft brightness of the moonlight
  on   the   lawn。   Sorrow   and   suspense   have   set   their   mark   on   the   lady。   Not
  rivals   only;   but   friends   who   formerly   admired   her;   agree   now   that   she
  looks worn and aged。 The more merciful judgment of others remarks; with
  equal   truth;   that   her   eyes;   her   hair;   her   simple   grace   and   grandeur   of
  movement have lost but little of their olden charms。 The truth lies; as usual;
  between the two extremes。 In spite of sorrow and suffering; Mrs。 Crayford
  is the beautiful Mrs。 Crayford still。