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双语·哈代短篇小说选 高岗故人来 二

所属教程:译林版·一个想象力丰富的女人:哈代短篇小说选

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2022年05月22日

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Interlopers at the Knap II

Three miles to the left of the travelers, along the road they had not followed, rose an old house with mullioned windows of Ham-hill stone, and chimneys of lavish solidity. It stood at the top of a slope beside King's-Hintock village-street, only a mile or two from King'sHintock Court, yet quite shut away from that mansion and its precincts. Immediately in front of it grew a large sycamore tree, whose bared roots formed a convenient staircase from the road below to the front door of the dwelling. Its situation gave the house what little distinctive name it possessed, namely, “The Knap.” Some forty yards off a brook dribbled past, which, for its size, made a great deal of noise. At the back was a dairy barton, accessible for vehicles and live-stock by a side “drong.” Thus much only of the character of the homestead could be divined out of doors at this shady evening-time.

But within there was plenty of light to see by, as plenty was construed at Hintock. Beside a Tudor fireplace, whose moulded four centred arch was nearly hidden by a figured blue-cloth blower, were seated two women—mother and daughter—Mrs. Hall, and Sarah, or Sally; for this was a part of the world where the latter modification had not as yet been effaced as a vulgarity by the march of intellect. The owner of the name was the young woman by whose means Mr. Darton proposed to put an end to his bachelor condition on the approaching day.

The mother's bereavement had been so long ago as not to leave much mark of its occurrence upon her now, either in face or clothes. She had resumed the mob-cap of her early married life, enlivening its whiteness by a few rose-du-Barry ribbons. Sally required no such aids to pinkness. Roseate good-nature lit up her gaze; her features showed curves of decision and judgment; and she might have been regarded without much mistake as a warm-hearted, quick-spirited, handsome girl.

She did most of the talking, her mother listening with a half-absent air, as she picked up fragments of red-hot wood ember with the tongs, and piled them upon the brands. But the number of speeches that passed was very small in proportion to the meanings exchanged. Long experience together often enabled them to see the course of thought in each other's minds without a word being spoken. Behind them, in the centre of the room, the table was spread for supper, certain whiffs of air laden with fat vapours, which ever and anon entered from the kitchen, denoting its preparation there.

“The new gown he was going to send you stays about on the way like himself,” Sally's mother was saying.

“Yes, not finished, I daresay,” cried Sally independently. “Lord, I shouldn't be amazed if it didn't come at all! Young men make such kind promises when they are near you, and forget 'em when they go away. But he doesn't intend it as a wedding-gown—he gives it to me merely as a gown to wear when I like—a travelling-dress is what it would be called by some. Come rathe or come late it don't much matter, as I have a dress of my own to fall back upon. But what time is it?”

She went to the family clock and opened the glass, for the hour was not otherwise discernible by night, and indeed at all times was rather a thing to be investigated than beheld, so much more wall than window was there in the apartment. “It is nearly eight,” said she.

“Eight o'clock, and neither dress nor man,” said Mrs. Hall.

“Mother, if you think to tantalize me by talking like that, you are much mistaken! Let him be as late as he will—or stay away altogether—I don't care,” said Sally. But a tender, minute quaver in the negation showed that there was something forced in that statement.

Mrs. Hall perceived it, and drily observed that she was not so sure about Sally not caring. “But perhaps you don't care so much as I do, after all,” she said. “For I see what you don't, that it is a good and flourishing match for you; a very honourable offer in Mr. Darton. And I think I see a kind husband in him. So pray God 'twill go smooth, and wind up well.”

Sally would not listen to misgivings. Of course it would go smoothly, she asserted. “How you are up and down, mother!” she went on. “At this moment, whatever hinders him, we are not so anxious to see him as he is to be here, and his thought runs on before him, and settles down upon us like the star in the east. Hark!” she exclaimed, with a breath of relief, her eyes sparkling. “I heard something. Yes—here they are!”

The next moment her mother's slower ear also distinguished the familiar reverberation occasioned footsteps clambering up the roots of the sycamore.

“Yes it sounds like them at last,” she said. “Well, it is not so very late after all, considering the distance.”

The footfall ceased, and they arose, expecting a knock. They began to think it might have been, after all, some neighbouring villager under Bacchic influence, giving the centre of the road a wide berth, when their doubts were dispelled by the new-comer's entry into the passage. The door of the room was gently opened, and there appeared not the pair of travellers with whom we have already made acquaintance, but a palefaced man in the garb of extreme poverty—almost in rags.

“O, it's a tramp—gracious me!” said Sally, starting back.

His cheeks and eye-orbits were deep concaves—rather, it might be, from natural weakness of constitution than irregular living, though there were indications that he had led no careful life. He gazed at the two women fixedly for a moment: then with an abashed, humiliated demeanour, dropped his glance to the floor, and sank into a chair without uttering a word.

Sally was in advance of her mother, who had remained standing by the fire. She now tried to discern the visitor across the candles.

“Why—mother,” said Sally faintly, turning back to Mrs. Hall. “It is Phil, from Australia!”

Mrs. Hall started, and grew pale, and a fit of coughing seized the man with the ragged clothes. “To come home like this!” she said. “O, Philip—are you ill?”

“No, no, mother,” replied he impatiently, as soon as he could speak.

“But for God's sake how do you come here—and just now too?”

“Well, I am here,” said the man. “How it is I hardly know. I've come home, mother, because I was driven to it. Things were against me out there, and went from bad to worse.”

“Then why didn't you let us know?—you've not writ a line for the last two or three years.”

The son admitted sadly that he had not. He said that he had hoped and thought he might fetch up again, and be able to send good news. Then he had been obliged to abandon that hope, and had finally come home from sheer necessity—previously to making a new start. “Yes, things are very bad with me,” he repeated, perceiving their commiserating glances at his clothes.

They brought him nearer the fire, took his hat from his thin hand, which was so small and smooth as to show that his attempts to fetch up again had not been in a manual direction. His mother resumed her inquiries, and dubiously asked if he had chosen to come that particular night for any special reason.

For no reason, he told her. His arrival had been quite at random. Then Philip Hall looked round the room, and saw for the first time that the table was laid somewhat luxuriously, and for a larger number than themselves; and that an air of festivity pervaded their dress. He asked quickly what was going on.

“Sally is going to be married in a day or two,” replied the mother; and she explained how Mr. Darton, Sally's intended husband, was coming there that night with the groomsman, Mr. Johns, and other details. “We thought it must be their step when we heard you,” said Mrs. Hall.

The needy wanderer looked again on the floor. “I see—I see,” he murmured. “Why, indeed, should I have come to-night? Such folk as I are not wanted here at these times, naturally. And I have no business here—spoiling other people's happiness.”

“Phil,” said his mother, with a tear in her eye, but with a thinness of lip and severity of manner which were presumably not more than past events justified; “since you speak like that to me, I'll speak honestly to you. For these three years you have taken no thought for us. You left home with a good supply of money, and strength and education, and you ought to have made good use of it all. But you come back like a beggar; and that you come in a very awkward time for us cannot be denied. Your return tonight may do us much harm. But mind—you are welcome to this home as long as it is mine. I don't wish to turn you adrift. We will make the best of a bad job; and I hope you are not seriously ill?”

“O, no. I have only this infernal cough.”

She looked at him anxiously. “I think you had better go to bed at once,” she said.

“Well—I shall be out of the way there,” said the son wearily. “Having ruined myself, don't let me ruin you by being seen in these togs, for Heaven's sake. Who do you say Sally is going to be married to—a Farmer Darton?”

“Yes—a gentleman-farmer—quite a wealthy man. Far better in station than she could have expected. It is a good thing, altogether.”

“Well done, little Sal!” said her brother, brightening and looking up at her with a smile. “I ought to have written; but perhaps I have thought of you all the more. But let me get out of sight. I would rather go and jump into the river than be seen here. But have you anything I can drink? I am confoundedly thirsty with my long tramp.”

“Yes, yes, we will bring something upstairs to you,” said Sally, with grief in her face.

“Ay, that will do nicely. But, Sally and mother—” He stopped, and they waited.

“Mother, I have not told you all,” he resumed slowly, still looking on the floor between his knees. “Sad as what you see of me is, there's worse behind.”

His mother gazed upon him in grieved suspense, and Sally went and leant upon the bureau, listening for every sound, and sighing. Suddenly she turned round, saying, “Let them come, I don't care! Philip, tell the worst, and take your time.”

“Well, then,” said the unhappy Phil, “I am not the only one in this mess. Would do Heaven I were! But—”

“O, Phil!”

“I have a wife as destitute as I.”

“A wife?” said his mother.

“Unhappily!”

“A wife! Yes, that is the way with sons!”

“And besides—” said he.

“Besides! O, Philip, surely—”

“I have two little children.”

“Wife and children!” whispered Mrs. Hall, sinking down confounded.

“Poor little things!” said Sally involuntarily.

His mother turned again to him. “I suppose these helpless beings are left in Australia?”

“No. They are in England.”

“Well, I can only hope you've left them in a respectable place.”

“I have not left them at all. They are here—within a few yards of us. In short, they are in the stable.”

“Where?”

“In the stable. I did not like to bring them indoors till I had seen you, mother, and broken the bad news a bit to you. They were very tired, and are resting out there on some straw.”

Mrs. Hall's fortitude visibly broken down. She had been brought up not without refinement, and was even more moved by such a collapse of genteel aims as this than a substantial dairyman's widow would in ordinary have been moved. “Well, it must be borne,” she said, in a low voice, with her hands tightly joined. “A starving son, a starving wife,starving children! Let it be. But why is this come to us now, to-day, tonight? Could no other misfortune happen to helpless women than this, which will quite upset my poor girl's chance of a happy life? Why have you done us this wrong, Philip? What respectable man will come here, and marry open-eyed into a family of vagabonds?”

“Nonsense, mother!” said Sally vehemently, while her face flushed. “Charley isn't the man to desert me. But if he should be, and won't marry me because Phil's come, let him go and marry elsewhere. I won't be ashamed of my own flesh and blood for any man in England—not I!” And then Sally turned away and burst into tears.

“Wait till you are twenty years older and you will tell a different tale,” replied her mother.

The son stood up. “Mother,” he said bitterly, “as I have come, so I will go. All I ask of you is that you will allow me and mine to lie in your stable to-night. I give you my word that we'll be gone by break of day, and trouble you no further!”

Mrs. Hall, the mother, changed at that. “O, no,” she answered hastily; “never shall it be said that I sent any of my own family from my door. Bring 'em in, Philip, or take me out to them.”

“We will put 'em all into the large bedroom,” said Sally, brightening, “and make up a large fire. Let's go and help them in, and call Rebekah.”(Rebekah was the woman who assisted at the dairy and housework; she lived in a cottage hard by with her husband, who attended to the cows.)

Sally went to fetch a lantern from the back-kitchen, but her brother said, “You won't want a light. I lit the lantern that was hanging there.”

“What must we call your wife?” asked Mrs. Hall.

“Helena,” said Philip.

With shawls over their heads they proceeded towards the back door.

“One minute before you go,” interrupted Philip. “I haven't confessed all.”

“Then Heaven help us!” said Mrs. Hall, pushing to the door and clasping her hands in calm despair.

“We passed through Evershead as we came,” he continued, “and I just looked in at the ‘Sow-and-Acorn’ to see if old Mike still kept on there as usual. The carrier had come in from Sherton Abbas at that moment, and guessing that I was bound for this place—for I think he knew me—he asked me to bring on a dressmaker's parcel for Sally that was marked‘immediate.’ My wife had walked on with the children. 'Twas a flimsy parcel, and the paper was torn, and I found on looking at it that it was a thick warm gown. I didn't wish you to see poor Helena in a shabby state. I was ashamed that you should—'twas not what she was born to. I untied the parcel in the road, took it on to her where she was waiting in the Lower Barn, and told her I had managed to get it for her, and that she was to ask no question. She, poor thing, must have supposed I obtained it on trust, through having reached a place where I was known, for she put it on gladly enough. She has it on now. Sally has other gowns, I daresay.”

Sally looked at her mother, speechless.

“You have others, I daresay!” repeated Phil, with a sick man's impatience, “I thought to myself, ‘Better Sally cry than Helena freeze.’ Well, is the dress of great consequence? 'Twas nothing very ornamental, as far as I could see.”

“No—no; not of consequence,” returned Sally sadly, adding in a gentle voice, “You will not mind if I lend her another instead of that one, will you?”

Philip's agitation at the confession had brought on another attack of the cough, which seemed to shake him to pieces. He was so obviously unfit to sit in a chair that they helped him upstairs at once; and having hastily given him a cordial and kindled the bedroom fire, they descended to fetch their unhappy new relations.

高岗故人来 二

沿着三人没选的左边那条路向前走三英里,路边有一栋老房子,直棂窗用的是哈姆丘陵岩,烟囱也极其结实。房子位于国王的欣托克村正街旁的一个斜坡顶,离国王的欣托克大宅只有一两英里远,但却同那座府邸及其所辖区域隔绝开来。紧挨着房子正前方有一棵巨大的槭树,树根裸露在地面的部分形成了一个简易的阶梯,沿斜坡下的路直通到大门口。人们根据房子所处的地理位置给它取了个不甚有特色的名字,叫作“高岗”。距房子四十码开外有一条小溪涓涓流过,溪虽小,流水声却十分嘹亮。屋后有一个奶场院子,车辆和牲口可以从侧边的一条“巷子”进出。在这昏暗的傍晚,外头只能看到这户人家的这些情况了。

不过屋内却有足够多的灯光照明——此处的“足够多”是按欣托克村当地的理解而言的。屋内有一个都铎式壁炉,壁炉上方的四圆心尖拱几乎被一个盖着印花蓝布的风箱给挡住了。壁炉旁坐着两个女人——她们是母女——霍尔太太和萨拉,别名莎莉。在这个地区,后一种简称尚未被增进的智识视为鄙俗而废除。叫这个名字的是个年轻姑娘,达顿先生正是打算借助她在翌日告别单身。

母亲孀居多年,如今无论从表情还是穿着都已看不出丧夫的痕迹。她戴回了早年新婚时常戴的头巾软帽,衬以几根玫瑰粉的丝带,使白帽子不至于太过寡淡。莎莉不需要这额外的粉色装点。她面色白里透红,眼神乐观温和,五官轮廓分明,显出理性与决断;说她是个热心、急性子的漂亮姑娘应该不会有错。

说话的主要是莎莉,母亲心不在焉地一边听,一边用火钳把烧得通红的碎木块拣出来,堆到垫底的大木头上。两人的交谈同其中传递的信息比起来可谓惜字如金,常年相伴让她们心有灵犀不点亦通。在她们身后,房间正中央的餐桌上已经摆好了餐具,厨房里间一阵阵带着肉香的蒸气飘进来,表明彼处正在准备晚餐。

“他说要送给你的长裙就跟他本人一样都还在路上。”莎莉的母亲正在说。

“是啊,我估计是还没做好吧,”莎莉说话很有主见,“主啊,就算是永远不送来我也不会觉得奇怪!男人们就是这样,在你面前山盟海誓,一转过身就忘得一干二净。不过他并没打算把它当结婚礼服——只是件外套,什么时候想穿就穿——有些人把这叫作出门装。早来也好,晚来也罢,关系都不大,反正我自己也有裙子可以撑一下。现在几点钟了?”

她走到钟跟前打开玻璃门,因为晚上天黑看不清时间——其实任何时候都没法单靠一瞥就能看清,一定得仔细察看,因为屋子墙多窗少。“快八点了。”她说。

“都八点了,衣服没到人也没到。”霍尔太太说。

“妈,如果您以为这样说就能让我着急,那您可错了!随便他想多晚来就多晚来吧——就算他一辈子都不来——我也无所谓。”莎莉说,但是她说“无所谓”时语气里带着一丝微微的颤抖,暴露了她说这话的勉强。

霍尔太太觉察出来了,淡淡地说她可不认为莎莉真的不在乎。“不过也许你的确不如我那么在乎。”她说,“因为我比你更清楚,这是门能让你发达的好亲事,我们应该感谢达顿先生。而且我相信他会是个好丈夫。所以我们要祈祷上帝让一切顺顺当当,让结果称心如意。”

莎莉这会儿听不进去任何担忧的话。她确信一切肯定都会顺顺当当的。“您别这么忐忑不安啦,妈妈!”她接着说,“不管是什么原因让他来晚了,这会儿他想要快点到这儿的心情比咱们想见到他的心情要迫切得多呢!他的心肯定比他的人跑得快,已经像东边升起的星星一样来到我们家了。快听!”她喊了一声,松了一口气,眼睛闪着喜悦的光芒,“我听到有声音了。是的——是他们来了!”

下一刻她有点耳背的母亲也听到了脚踩着槭树根爬上坡发出的熟悉声响。

“是的,看来他们终于到了,”她说,“唉,总的来说还不算太晚,想想要走那么远的路呢。”

脚步声停了,两人站起身来,等待敲门声响起。她们等了又等,差点要开始怀疑刚听到的脚步声不过是村里某个乡亲,因为喝醉了酒,所以走偏了路。但来人进了走廊,打消了她们的疑虑。房门被轻轻地推开了,可是进来的不是我们已经提到过的那两位旅人,而是一个脸色苍白的男子,穿着极其褴褛——几乎就是一堆破布。

“哦,天哪——是个流浪汉!”莎莉吓得退后一步。

来人脸颊干瘪、眼窝深陷——但很可能更多的是体质虚弱的缘故,而不单是因为饱一顿饥一顿,看得出来他的日子过得并不精心。他定定地望了两个女人一会儿,然后低头望向地面,带着一副羞愧不安、忍辱负重的神情,一言不发地瘫坐到椅子上。

莎莉抢先一步走上前去,她的母亲则站在壁炉边没动弹。莎莉借着烛光仔细辨认来者。

“啊——妈妈,”莎莉转过身,对着霍尔太太,仿佛突然失了力气,“是菲尔,他从澳大利亚回来了!”

霍尔太太大惊,脸色“唰”地一下子变白了。衣着褴褛的男子爆发了一阵咳嗽。“成这个样子回来!”她说,“啊,菲利普——你病了?”

“不,没有,母亲。”他一恢复力气开口,便不耐烦地回答。

“但,我的天哪,你是怎么回来的——而且还在这个时候?”

“唉,我就是回来了,”男子说,“怎么回来的我也不知道。母亲,我之所以回来,是因为迫不得已。在那边什么都不如意,情况越来越糟。”

“那你为什么不告诉我们?——这两三年你从没写过一个字回来。”

儿子哀伤地承认自己没有写过信。他解释说,他一直希望并相信自己也许能挽回局面,就可以给家里报喜。但后来他不得不放弃希望,直到穷途末路只能回来——且待他日东山再起。他看到她们怜悯地打量着他穿的破烂,又重复了一遍:“是的,我的日子很不好过。”

她们把他扶到火边,从他干枯消瘦的手里把帽子接过去。他的手小而光滑,可见他想借以翻盘的办法应该不是干体力活。他的母亲又继续盘问,狐疑地问他是不是有什么特别的原因,所以才特意挑了这一晚回来。

他告诉她没有什么特别原因,只是碰巧而已。说完后菲利普·霍尔环顾四周,这才发现餐桌上的餐具很是奢华,而且不止两个人的数,母女俩的穿着也很隆重喜庆。他赶紧询问是怎么回事。

“莎莉这两天就要成亲了,”母亲回答。她解释说达顿先生,莎莉的未婚夫,今天晚上要同伴郎约翰斯先生一起来做客,以及其他一些详情,“我们听到你的脚步声时还以为是他们来了。”霍尔太太说。

潦倒的流浪汉又一次眼望地面。“明白了——明白了,”他喃喃地说,“是啊,确实,我为什么要今天晚上回来呢?像我这样的人当然不应该出现在这种时候。我根本没有资格出现在这里——搅了别人的好事。”

“菲尔,”他的母亲眼里泛起泪光,但她依然紧抿嘴唇、举止严厉,这应该是源于过去种种而令她不得不这样做,“既然你这样对我说话,那我也对你开诚布公吧。过去三年里你压根儿没管过我们。你离开家的时候不愁钱也不愁力气,你也受过教育,本应好好利用这些条件,过上好日子。可你现在回来,还弄得像个乞丐;而且,不可否认,你回来的时间对我们来说确实非常尴尬。你今晚回来可能会害了我们。不过请记住,只要我还在,这个家就欢迎你。我不会把你拒之门外。事到如今我们也只有尽人事听天命了。你的病严不严重?”

“呃,不严重。只是咳嗽比较烦人。”

她急切地看看他,“我觉得你最好马上去睡一觉。”

“是的——这样我就不会碍事了。”儿子疲惫地说道,“我已经毁了我自己,可别让别人看见我穿着这身破烂,我的天哪,免得毁了你们的幸福。你刚才说莎莉要嫁给谁来着——一个叫达顿的农民?”

“是的——一位绅士农场主——非常富有。地位远高出她的预期。总的来说,这是件大好事。”

“干得漂亮,小莎尔!”她的兄长眼睛一亮,微笑着抬头看她,“我本该写信回来的,但是我怕写了信会更想你。现在让我先躲起来吧,我宁可去跳河也不想在这里被人看到。不过你们有没有什么喝的?我走了很远很远的路,现在渴得嗓子都冒烟了。”

“有的,有的,我们给你送到楼上去。”莎莉说,脸上表情很哀伤。

“好,那非常好。但是,莎莉,母亲——”他欲言又止,她们便等着他说下去。

“母亲,我还没有跟你说完,”他慢慢地开口了,依然低头望着双膝之间的地面,“您看我这副样子已经很落魄,但是还有更糟的在后头。”

他的母亲惊疑不定地盯着他。莎莉走过去靠着柜子,凝神静听,长长叹了口气,然后她突然转过身说:“让该来的都来吧,我不在乎!菲利普,把最坏的事都说出来吧,慢慢说。”

“好吧,”倒霉的菲尔说,“这个烂摊子里,我不是唯一的一个人。上天啊,要是只有我一个就好了!但是——”

“噢,菲尔!”

“我还有个妻子,跟我一样一贫如洗。”

“妻子?”他的母亲问道。

“很不幸!”

“妻子!对啊,养儿子还有这一茬儿!”

“除此之外——”他又说。

“除此之外!噢,菲利普,难道你——”

“我还有两个孩子。”

“妻子和孩子!”霍尔太太低声说,失魂落魄地瘫坐在地上。

“可怜的孩子们!”莎莉不由自主地说。

母亲又转向他说:“我猜你把你可怜的妻儿留在澳大利亚了?”

“不,他们在英格兰。”

“那么,我只能希望你把他们留在了一个还算体面的地方。”

“我没把他们留在任何地方。他们就在这儿——离我们只有几码远。长话短说,他们在马厩里。”

“在……在哪里?”

“在马厩里。我想等我先见到您——母亲——跟您透露一点坏消息之后,再带他们来见您。他们很疲惫了,在里面的稻草堆上歇息。”

霍尔太太的坚毅很明显被击垮了。她也是在体面人家长大的,因此看到儿子斯文扫地,受到的打击比起寻常的奶牛场主遗孀要大得多。“无论如何,都必须得扛着。”她低声地说,双手紧握,“饿得半死的儿子,饿得半死的儿媳妇,饿得半死的孩子!来就来吧。但是你为什么非要在这个节骨眼回来,非要在今天,非要在今晚?为什么要让这样不幸的事情发生在两个无依无靠的女人身上,让我可怜的女儿得到幸福的机会就此被毁掉?菲利普,你为什么要这样害我们?有哪个体面的男人到了这里,看到这一家子的流浪汉,还会愿意跟他们结亲?”

“妈妈,别乱说!”莎莉激烈地说,脸涨得通红,“查理[2]不是那样的人,不会因此抛弃我。但假如他真的因为菲尔回来就不愿意娶我的话,那就让他走,去娶别人吧。我不会为了全英格兰任何一个男人而嫌弃自己的亲人——任他是谁,我都不会!”说完,她扭过头去,眼泪夺眶而出。

“再等二十年,你就不会说这种话了!”她的母亲回答。

儿子站起身来。“母亲,”他苦涩地说,“我怎么来的就怎么走。我只请求您让我和我的家人今晚在您的马厩里歇息一夜。我向您保证,到天亮时我们就会离开,从今往后再不给您添麻烦!”

听到这话,他的母亲霍尔太太变了脸色。“哦不!”她匆忙说,“我可不能让别人说我把自己的亲人拒之门外。菲利普,把他们带进来吧,或者带我过去见他们。”

“我们让他们住到大卧室去吧,”莎莉的脸色高兴了些,“把火生得旺旺的。我们一起过去带他们进来,然后去叫黎贝卡。”(黎贝卡在她们家奶场做帮手并兼做家务,她丈夫则帮着养牛,两人就住在大房旁边的小屋里。)

莎莉到后面厨房拿了一盏灯,但她兄长说:“不需要带灯过去,我已经把挂在马厩那儿的灯点亮了。”

“我们怎么称呼你的妻子?”霍尔太太问。

“海伦娜。”菲利普回答。

母女俩头裹上披巾,向后门走去。

“等一等,”菲利普叫住她们,“我还有件事没说。”

“上天可怜可怜我们吧!”霍尔太太整个人靠向门,双手紧捏在一起,平静而绝望地说。

“我们来的时候经过艾福斯海德,”他接着说,“我顺便去‘猪与橡子’小酒馆看了一眼,看看老迈克还在不在那里干活,正好碰到邮差从谢顿阿巴斯镇过来,他猜我要到这里来——我估计他认出了我——于是让我捎带一个裁缝寄给莎莉的包裹,上面标着‘急件’。我妻子和孩子已经先往前走了。包裹很薄,包装纸磨破了,我看到里面是一件厚实的长裙。我不想让你们看到海伦娜穿得太寒碜,我会觉得很丢人——她生来家境不是这样的。我在路上就把包裹拆了,到下巴恩找她,她在那儿等我。我告诉她我找了件衣服给她穿,让她不要多问。可怜见的,她大概以为是我回到家乡找到了熟人,赊了点账买来的,就很高兴地穿上了。她现在就穿着这件衣服。莎莉应该还有别的衣服吧,我敢说。”

莎莉看了看母亲,一句话也说不出来。

“你肯定还有别的衣服,对不对!”菲尔又重复了一遍,带着病人不耐烦的腔调,“我对自己说,‘就算把莎莉惹哭也好过让海伦娜挨冻。’怎么,这裙子很重要吗?看上去也没有多华丽,至少我看来是这样。”

“不——不,没有多重要。”莎莉凄楚地回答,又柔声加了一句,“你应该不会介意我另外借一件长裙给她,把这条换回来吧?”

菲利普听到这话情绪有点激动,结果又勾起了一阵惊天动地的咳嗽,整个人都快散架了。他实在不适合再坐在椅子里,于是她们立刻扶着他上了楼,匆匆给他倒了一杯药酒,把卧室的火生起来,然后下楼去接那些倒霉的新亲戚了。

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