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双语《霍桑短篇小说集》 埃莉诺小姐的斗篷

所属教程:译林版·牧师的黑面纱:霍桑短篇小说集

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2022年06月20日

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LADY ELEANORE'S MANTLE

Not long after Colonel Shute had assumed the government of Massachusetts Bay, now nearly a hundred and twenty years ago, a young lady of rank and fortune arrived from England, to claim his protection as her guardian. He was her distant relative, but the nearest who had survived the gradual extinction of her family; so that no more eligible shelter could be found for the rich and high-born Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe than within the Province House of a transatlantic colony. The consort of Governor Shute, moreover, had been as a mother to her childhood, and was now anxious to receive her, in the hope that a beautiful young woman would be exposed to infinitely less peril from the primitive society of New England than amid the artifices and corruptions of a court. If either the Governor or his lady had especially consulted their own comfort, they would probably have sought to devolve the responsibility on other hands; since, with some noble and splendid traits of character, Lady Eleanore was remarkable for a harsh, unyielding pride, a haughty consciousness of her hereditary and personal advantages, which made her almost incapable of control. Judging from many traditionary anecdotes, this peculiar temper was hardly less than a monomania; or, if the acts which it inspired were those of a sane person, it seemed due from Providence that pride so sinful should be followed by as severe a retribution. That tinge of the marvellous, which is thrown over so many of these half-forgotten legends, has probably imparted an additional wildness to the strange story of Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe.

The ship in which she came passenger had arrived at Newport, whence Lady Eleanore was conveyed to Boston in the Governor's coach, attended by a small escort of gentlemen on horseback. The ponderous equipage, with its four black horses, attracted much notice as it rumbled through Cornhill, surrounded by the prancing steeds of half a dozen cavaliers, with swords dangling to their stirrups and pistols at their holsters. Through the large glass windows of the coach, as it rolled along, the people could discern the figure of Lady Eleanore, strangely combining an almost queenly stateliness with the grace and beauty of a maiden in her teens. A singular tale had gone abroad among the ladies of the province, that their fair rival was indebted for much of the irresistible charm of her appearance to a certain article of dress—an embroidered mantle—which had been wrought by the most skilful artist in London, and possessed even magical properties of adornment. On the present occasion, however, she owed nothing to the witchery of dress, being clad in a riding habit of velvet, which would have appeared stiff and ungraceful on any other form.

The coachman reined in his four black steeds, and the whole cavalcade came to a pause in front of the contorted iron balustrade that fenced the Province House from the public street. It was an awkward coincidence that the bell of the Old South was just then tolling for a funeral; so that, instead of a gladsome peal with which it was customary to announce the arrival of distinguished strangers, Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe was ushered by a doleful clang, as if calamity had come embodied in her beautiful person.

“A very great disrespect!”exclaimed Captain Langford, an English officer, who had recently brought dispatches to Governor Shute.“The funeral should have been deferred, lest Lady Eleanore's spirits be affected by such a dismal welcome.”

“With your pardon, sir,”replied Dr. Clarke, a physician, and a famous champion of the popular party,“whatever the heralds may pretend, a dead beggar must have precedence of a living queen. King Death confers high privileges.”

These remarks were interchanged while the speakers waited a passage through the crowd, which had gathered on each side of the gateway, leaving an open avenue to the portal of the Province House. A black slave in livery now leaped from behind the coach, and threw open the door; while at the same moment Governor Shute descended the flight of steps from his mansion, to assist Lady Eleanore in alighting. But the Governor's stately approach was anticipated in a manner that excited general astonishment. A pale young man, with his black hair all in disorder, rushed from the throng, and prostrated himself beside the coach, thus offering his person as a footstool for Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe to tread upon. She held back an instant, yet with an expression as if doubting whether the young man were worthy to bear the weight of her footstep, rather than dissatisfied to receive such awful reverence from a fellow-mortal.

“Up, sir,”said the Governor, sternly, at the same time lifting his cane over the intruder.“What means the Bedlamite by this freak?”

“Nay,”answered Lady Eleanore playfully, but with more scorn than pity in her tone,“your Excellency shall not strike him. When men seek only to be trampled upon, it were a pity to deny them a favor so easily granted—and so well deserved!”

Then, though as lightly as a sunbeam on a cloud, she placed her foot upon the cowering form, and extended her hand to meet that of the Governor.

There was a brief interval during which Lady Eleanore retained this attitude; and never, surely, was there an apter emblem of aristocracy and hereditary pride trampling on human sympathies and the kindred of nature, than these two figures presented at that moment. Yet the spectators were so smitten with her beauty, and so essential did pride seem to the existence of such a creature, that they gave a simultaneous acclamation of applause.

“Who is this insolent young fellow?”inquired Captain Langford, who still remained beside Dr. Clarke.“If he be in his senses, his impertinence demands the bastinado. If mad, Lady Eleanore should be secured from further inconvenience, by his confinement.”

“His name is Jervase Helwyse,”answered the Doctor;“a youth of no birth or fortune, or other advantages, save the mind and soul that nature gave him; and being secretary to our colonial agent in London, it was his misfortune to meet this Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe. He loved her—and her scorn has driven him mad.”

“He was mad so to aspire,”observed the English officer.

“It may be so,”said Dr. Clarke, frowning as he spoke.“But I tell you, sir, I could well-nigh doubt the justice of the Heaven above us if no signal humiliation overtake this lady, who now treads so haughtily into yonder mansion. She seeks to place herself above the sympathies of our common nature, which envelops all human souls. See, if that nature do not assert its claim over her in some mode that shall bring her level with the lowest!”

“Never!”cried Captain Langford indignantly—“neither in life, nor when they lay her with her ancestors.”

Not many days afterwards the Governor gave a ball in honor of Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe. The principal gentry of the colony received invitations, which were distributed to their residences, far and near, by messengers on horseback, bearing missives sealed with all the formality of official dispatches. In obedience to the summons, there was a general gathering of rank, wealth, and beauty; and the wide door of the Province House had seldom given admittance to more numerous and honorable guests than on the evening of Lady Eleanore's ball. Without much extravagance of eulogy, the spectacle might even be termed splendid; for, according to the fashion of the times, the ladies shone in rich silks and satins, outspread over wide projecting hoops; and the gentlemen glittered in gold embroidery, laid unsparingly upon the purple, or scarlet, or sky-blue velvet, which was the material of their coats and waistcoats. The latter article of dress was of great importance, since it enveloped the wearer's body nearly to the knees, and was perhaps bedizened with the amount of his whole year's income, in golden flowers and foliage. The altered taste of the present day—a taste symbolic of a deep change in the whole system of society—would look upon almost any of those gorgeous figures as ridiculous; although that evening the guests sought their reflections in the pier-glasses, and rejoiced to catch their own glitter amid the glittering crowd. What a pity that one of the stately mirrors has not preserved a picture of the scene, which, by the very traits that were so transitory, might have taught us much that would be worth knowing and remembering!

Would, at least, that either painter or mirror could convey to us some faint idea of a garment, already noticed in this legend,—the Lady Eleanore's embroidered mantle,—which the gossips whispered was invested with magic properties, so as to lend a new and untried grace to her figure each time that she put it on! Idle fancy as it is, this mysterious mantle has thrown an awe around my image of her, partly from its fabled virtues, and partly because it was the handiwork of a dying woman, and, perchance, owed the fantastic grace of its conception to the delirium of approaching death.

After the ceremonial greetings had been paid, Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe stood apart from the mob of guests, insulating herself within a small and distinguished circle, to whom she accorded a more cordial favor than to the general throng. The waxen torches threw their radiance vividly over the scene, bringing out its brilliant points in strong relief; but she gazed carelessly, and with now and then an expression of weariness or scorn, tempered with such feminine grace that her auditors scarcely perceived the moral deformity of which it was the utterance. She beheld the spectacle not with vulgar ridicule, as disdaining to be pleased with the provincial mockery of a court festival, but with the deeper scorn of one whose spirit held itself too high to participate in the enjoyment of other human souls. Whether or no the recollections of those who saw her that evening were influenced by the strange events with which she was subsequently connected, so it was that her figure ever after recurred to them as marked by something wild and unnatural,— although, at the time, the general whisper was of her exceeding beauty, and of the indescribable charm which her mantle threw around her. Some close observers, indeed, detected a feverish flush and alternate paleness of countenance, with a corresponding flow and revulsion of spirits, and once or twice a painful and helpless betrayal of lassitude, as if she were on the point of sinking to the ground. Then, with a nervous shudder, she seemed to arouse her energies and threw some bright and playful yet half-wicked sarcasm into the conversation. There was so strange a characteristic in her manners and sentiments that it astonished every right-minded listener; till; looking in her face, a lurking and incomprehensible glance and smile perplexed them with doubts both as to her seriousness and sanity. Gradually, Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe's circle grew smaller, till only four gentlemen remained in it. These were Captain Langford, the English officer before mentioned; a Virginian planter, who had come to Massachusetts on some political errand; a young Episcopal clergyman, the grandson of a British earl; and, lastly, the private secretary of Governor Shute, whose obsequiousness had won a sort of tolerance from Lady Eleanore.

At different periods of the evening the liveried servants of the Province House passed among the guests, bearing huge trays of refreshments and French and Spanish wines. Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe, who refused to wet her beautiful lips even with a bubble of Champagne, had sunk back into a large damask chair, apparently overwearied either with the excitement of the scene or its tedium, and while, for an instant, she was unconscious of voices, laughter and music, a young man stole forward, and knelt down at her feet. He bore a salver in his hand, on which was a chased silver goblet, filled to the brim with wine, which he offered as reverentially as to a crowned queen, or rather with the awful devotion of a priest doing sacrifice to his idol. Conscious that some one touched her robe, Lady Eleanore started, and unclosed her eyes upon the pale, wild features and dishevelled hair of Jervase Helwyse.

“Why do you haunt me thus?”said she, in a languid tone, but with a kindlier feeling than she ordinarily permitted herself to express.“They tell me that I have done you harm.”

“Heaven knows if that be so,”replied the young man solemnly.“But, Lady Eleanore, in requital of that harm, if such there be, and for your own earthly and heavenly welfare, I pray you to take one sip of this holy wine, and then to pass the goblet round among the guests. And this shall be a symbol that you have not sought to withdraw yourself from the chain of human sympathies—which whoso would shake off must keep company with fallen angels.”

“Where has this mad fellow stolen that sacramental vessel?”exclaimed the Episcopal clergyman.

This question drew the notice of the guests to the silver cup, which was recognized as appertaining to the communion plate of the Old South Church; and, for aught that could be known, it was brimming over with the consecrated wine.

“Perhaps it is poisoned,”half whispered the Governor's secretary.

“Pour it down the villain's throat!”cried the Virginian fiercely.

“Turn him out of the house!”cried Captain Langford, seizing Jervase Helwyse so roughly by the shoulder that the sacramental cup was overturned, and its contents sprinkled upon Lady Eleanore's mantle.“Whether knave, fool, or Bedlamite, it is intolerable that the fellow should go at large.”

“Pray, gentlemen, do my poor admirer no harm,”said Lady Eleanore, with a faint and weary smile.“Take him out of my sight, if such be your pleasure; for I can find in my heart to do nothing but laugh at him; whereas, in all decency and conscience, it would become me to weep for the mischief I have wrought!”

But while the by-standers were attempting to lead away the unfortunate young man, he broke from them, and with a wild, impassioned earnestness, offered a new and equally strange petition to Lady Eleanore. It was no other than that she should throw off the mantle, which, while he pressed the silver cup of wine upon her, she had drawn more closely around her form, so as almost to shroud herself within it.

“Cast it from you!”exclaimed Jervase Helwyse, clasping his hands in an agony of entreaty.“It may not yet be too late! Give the accursed garment to the flames!”

But Lady Eleanore, with a laugh of scorn, drew the rich folds of the embroidered mantle over her head, in such a fashion as to give a completely new aspect to her beautiful face, which—half hidden, half revealed—seemed to belong to some being of mysterious character and purposes.

“Farewell, Jervase Helwyse!”said she.“Keep my image in your remembrance, as you behold it now.”

“Alas, lady!”he replied, in a tone no longer wild, but sad as a funeral bell—“We must meet shortly, when your face may wear another aspect—and that shall be the image that must abide within me.”

He made no more resistance to the violent efforts of the gentle-men and servants, who almost dragged him out of the apartment, and dismissed him roughly from the iron gate of the Province House. Captain Langford, who had been very active in this affair, was returning to the presence of Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe, when he encountered the physician, Dr. Clarke, with whom he had held some casual talk on the day of her arrival. The Doctor stood apart, separated from Lady Eleanore by the width of the room, but eying her with such keen sagacity that Captain Langford involuntarily gave him credit for the discovery of some deep secret.

“You appear to be smitten, after all, with the charms of this queenly maiden,”said he, hoping thus to draw forth the physician's hidden knowledge.

“God forbid!”answered Dr. Clarke, with a grave smile;“and if you be wise you will put up the same prayer for yourself. Woe to those who shall be smitten by this beautiful Lady Eleanore! But yonder stands the Governor—and I have a word or two for his private ear. Good night!”

He accordingly advanced to Governor Shute, and addressed him in so low a tone that none of the by-standers could catch a word of what he said, although the sudden change of His Excellency's hitherto cheerful visage betokened that the communication could be of no agreeable import. A very few moments afterwards it was announced to the guests that an unforeseen circumstance rendered it necessary to put a premature close to the festival.

The ball at the Province House supplied a topic of conversation for the colonial metropolis for some days after its occurrence, and might still longer have been the general theme, only that a subject of all-engrossing interest thrust it, for a time, from the public recollection. This was the appearance of a dreadful epidemic, which, in that age and long before and afterward, was wont to slay its hundreds and thousands on both sides of the Atlantic. On the occasion of which we speak, it was distinguished by a peculiar virulence, insomuch that it has left its traces—its pit-marks, to use an appropriate figure—on the history of the country, the affairs of which were thrown into confusion by its ravages.

At first, unlike its ordinary course, the disease seemed to confine itself to the higher circles of society, selecting its victims from among the proud, the well-born, and the wealthy, entering unabashed into stately chambers, and lying down with the slumberers in silken beds. Some of the most distinguished guests of the Province House—even those whom the haughty Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe had deemed not unworthy of her favor—were stricken by this fatal scourge. It was noticed, with an ungenerous bitterness of feeling, that the four gentlemen—the Virginian, the British officer, the young clergyman, and the Governor's secretary—who had been her most devoted attendants on the evening of the ball, were the foremost on whom the plague stroke fell. But the disease, pursuing its onward progress, soon ceased to be exclusively a prerogative of aristocracy. Its red brand was no longer conferred like a noble's star, or an order of knighthood. It threaded its way through the narrow and crooked streets, and entered the low, mean, darksome dwellings, and laid its hand of death upon the artisans and laboring classes of the town. It compelled rich and poor to feel themselves brethren then; and stalking to and fro across the Three Hills, with a fierceness which made it almost a new pestilence, there was that mighty conqueror—that scourge and horror of our forefathers—the small-pox!

We cannot estimate the affright which this plague inspired of yore, by contemplating it as the fangless monster of the present day. We must remember, rather, with what awe we watched the gigantic footsteps of the Asiatic cholera, striding from shore to shore of the Atlantic, and marching like Destiny upon cities far remote which flight had already half depopulated. There is no other fear so horrible and unhumanizing as that which makes man dread to breathe heaven's vital air lest it be poison, or to grasp the hand of a brother or friend lest the grip of the pestilence should clutch him. Such was the dismay that now followed in the track of the disease, or ran before it throughout the town. Graves were hastily dug, and the pestilential relics as hastily covered, because the dead were enemies of the living, and strove to draw them headlong, as it were, into their own dismal pit. The public councils were suspended, as if mortal wisdom might relinquish its devices, now that an unearthly usurper had found his way into the ruler's mansion. Had an enemy's fleet been hovering on the coast, or his armies trampling on our soil, the people would probably have committed their defence to that same direful conqueror who had wrought their own calamity, and would permit no interference with his sway. This conqueror had a symbol of his triumphs. It was a blood-red flag, that fluttered in the tainted air, over the door of every dwelling into which the Small-Pox had entered.

Such a banner was long since waving over the portal of the Province House; for thence, as was proved by tracking its footsteps back, had all this dreadful mischief issued. It had been traced back to a lady's luxurious chamber—to the proudest of the proud—to her that was so delicate, and hardly owned herself of earthly mould—to the haughty one, who took her stand above human sympathies—to Lady Eleanore! There remained no room for doubt that the contagion had lurked in that gorgeous mantle, which threw so strange a grace around her at the festival. Its fantastic splendor had been conceived in the delirious brain of a woman on her death-bed, and was the last toil of her stiffening fingers, which had interwoven fate and misery with its golden threads.

This dark tale, whispered at first, was now bruited far and wide. The people raved against the Lady Eleanore, and cried out that her pride and scorn had evoked a fiend, and that, between them both, this monstrous evil had been born. At times, their rage and despair took the semblance of grinning mirth; and whenever the red flag of the pestilence was hoisted over another and yet another door, they clapped their hands and shouted through the streets, in bitter mockery:“Behold a new triumph for the Lady Eleanore!”

One day, in the midst of these dismal times, a wild figure approached the portal of the Province House, and folding his arms, stood contemplating the scarlet banner which a passing breeze shook fitfully, as if to fling abroad the contagion that it typified. At length, climbing one of the pillars by means of the iron balustrade, he took down the flag and entered the mansion, waving it above his head. At the foot of the staircase he met the Governor, booted and spurred, with his cloak drawn around him, evidently on the point of setting forth upon a journey.

“Wretched lunatic, what do you seek here?”exclaimed Shute, extending his cane to guard himself from contact.“There is nothing here but Death. Back or you will meet him!”

“Death will not touch me, the banner-bearer of the pestilence!”cried Jervase Helwyse, shaking the red flag aloft.“Death, and the Pestilence, who wears the aspect of the Lady Eleanore, will walk through the streets to-night, and I must march before them with this banner!”

“Why do I waste words on the fellow?”muttered the Governor, drawing his cloak across his mouth.“What matters his miserable life, when none of us are sure of twelve hours' breath? On, fool, to your own destruction!”

He made way for Jervase Helwyse, who immediately ascended the staircase, but on the first landing place, was arrested by the firm grasp of a hand upon his shoulder. Looking fiercely up, with a madman's impulse to struggle with and rend asunder his opponent, he found himself powerless beneath a calm, stern eye, which possessed the mysterious property of quelling frenzy at its height. The person whom he had now encountered was the physician, Dr. Clarke, the duties of whose sad profession had led him to the Province House, where he was an infrequent guest in more prosperous times.

“Young man, what is your purpose?”demanded he.

“I seek the Lady Eleanore,”answered Jervase Helwyse, submissively.

“All have fled from her,”said the physician.“Why do you seek her now? I tell you, youth, her nurse fell death-stricken on the threshold of that fatal chamber. Know ye not, that never came such a curse to our shores as this lovely Lady Eleanore?—that her breath has filled the air with poison?—that she has shaken pestilence and death upon the land, from the folds of her accursed mantle?”

“Let me look upon her!”rejoined the mad youth, more wildly.“Let me behold her, in her awful beauty, clad in the regal garments of the pestilence! She and Death sit on a throne together. Let me kneel down before them!”

“Poor youth!”said Dr. Clarke; and, moved by a deep sense of human weakness, a smile of caustic humor curled his lip even then.“Wilt thou still worship the destroyer and surround her image with fantasies the more magnificent, the more evil she has wrought? Thus man doth ever to his tyrants. Approach, then! Madness, as I have noted, has that good efficacy that it will guard you from contagion— and perchance its own cure may be found in yonder chamber.”

Ascending another flight of stairs, he threw open a door and signed to Jervase Helwyse that he should enter. The poor lunatic, it seems probable, had cherished a delusion that his haughty mistress sat in state, unharmed herself by the pestilential influence, which, as by enchantment, she scattered round about her. He dreamed, no doubt, that her beauty was not dimmed, but brightened into superhuman splendor. With such anticipations, he stole reverentially to the door at which the physician stood, but paused upon the threshold, gazing fearfully into the gloom of the darkened chamber.

“Where is the Lady Eleanore?”whispered he.

“Call her,”replied the physician.

“Lady Eleanore!—Princess!—Queen of Death!”cried Jervase Helwyse, advancing three steps into the chamber.“She is not here! There, on yonder table, I behold the sparkle of a diamond which once she wore upon her bosom. There”—and he shuddered—“there hangs her mantle, on which a dead woman embroidered a spell of dreadful potency. But where is the Lady Eleanore?”

Something stirred within the silken curtains of a canopied bed; and a low moan was uttered, which, listening intently, Jervase Helwyse began to distinguish as a woman's voice, complaining dolefully of thirst. He fancied, even, that he recognized its tones.

“My throat!—my throat is scorched,”murmured the voice.“A drop of water!”

“What thing art thou?”said the brain-stricken youth, drawing near the bed and tearing asunder its curtains.“Whose voice hast thou stolen for thy murmurs and miserable petitions, as if Lady Eleanore could be conscious of mortal infirmity? Fie! Heap of diseased mortality, why lurkest thou in my lady's chamber?”

“Oh, Jervase Helwyse,”said the voice—and as it spoke the figure contorted itself, struggling to hide its blasted face—“look not now on the woman you once loved! The curse of Heaven hath stricken me, because I would not call man my brother, nor woman sister. I wrapped myself in pride as in a mantle, and scorned the sympathies of nature; and therefore has Nature made this wretched body the medium of a dreadful sympathy. You are avenged—they are all avenged—Nature is avenged—for I am Eleanore Rochcliffe!”

The malice of his mental disease, the bitterness lurking at the bottom of his heart, mad as he was, for a blighted and ruined life, and love that had been paid with cruel scorn, awoke within the breast of Jervase Helwyse. He shook his finger at the wretched girl, and the chamber echoed, the curtains of the bed were shaken, with his outburst of insane merriment.

“Another triumph for the Lady Eleanore!”he cried.“All have been her victims! who so worthy to be the final victim as herself?”

Impelled by some new fantasy of his crazed intellect, he snatched the fatal mantle and rushed from the chamber and the house. That night a procession passed, by torchlight, through the streets, bearing in the midst the figure of a woman, enveloped with a richly embroidered mantle; while in advance stalked Jervase Helwyse, waving the red flag of the pestilence. Arriving opposite the Province House, the mob burned the effigy, and a strong wind came and swept away the ashes. It was said that, from that very hour, the pestilence abated, as if its sway had some mysterious connection, from the first plague-stroke to the last, with Lady Eleanore's Mantle. A remarkable uncertainty broods over that unhappy lady's fate. There is a belief, however, that in a certain chamber of this mansion a female form may sometimes be duskily discerned, shrinking into the darkest corner and muffling her face within an embroidered mantle. Supposing the legend true, can this be other than the once proud Lady Eleanore?

埃莉诺小姐的斗篷

大约在一百二十年前,舒特上校就任马萨诸塞湾政府总督之后不久,一位既有地位又很富有的年轻小姐从英格兰来到此地,要求他做她的保护人。他只是她的远亲,但又是她渐趋灭绝的家族中尚在人世的最近亲属;因此,对于富有而出身高贵的埃莉诺·罗彻克利夫小姐来说,再也找不到比大西洋彼岸殖民地这个行省的政府更适宜的庇护所了。此外,舒特总督的夫人自埃莉诺小姐幼小时起对她就像母亲一样,如今也正急切地想要接纳她,希望美丽年轻的小姐生活在新英格兰的纯朴社会里,不会像置身于宫廷的阴谋诡计和腐化堕落中那么危险。假如总督或者他的夫人对他们自己的舒适安乐加以特别考虑的话,大概会想办法将这份责任推到别人手里去;因为埃莉诺小姐尽管具有某些高贵而杰出的品德,却以粗暴苛刻和孤高自傲而著称,自恃血统与个人的优越而目空一切,这使得她行事几乎肆无忌惮。根据许多逸闻传言来判断,她这种怪僻性格差不多达到了偏执狂的程度;或者说,假如她的性格所导致的种种行为出自一个心智健全者,那么如此罪孽深重的骄傲按照天意是该招致严酷报应的。许许多多半被遗忘的传说故事就笼罩着这种奇异色彩,而埃莉诺·罗彻克利夫的怪异故事大概也是因此而平添了几分疯狂的野性。

埃莉诺小姐搭乘的船抵达了新港,她再从那里坐总督的马车到波士顿,沿途有一小队骑马的绅士护送。笨重的车身由四匹黑马拉着,隆隆驶过康希尔时十分引人注目,前后簇拥着五六个骑士,胯下的骏马昂首阔步;刀剑在马镫上摇晃,手枪插在皮套子里。队伍奔驶而过的时候,人们能够透过车厢宽大的玻璃窗看见埃莉诺小姐的身影,在她身上妙龄女子的优雅美丽竟与女王般的庄严高贵奇妙地融为一体。一种古怪谣言已经在当地上层妇女中间传开来,说是她们的这位漂亮对手那种无法抵御的魅力大大得益于一件服装——一件绣花斗篷——它出自伦敦最高明的艺匠之手,具有增添美色的魔力。不过,现在她的魅力却丝毫没有借助于这件斗篷的魔法,她身上穿的是一件天鹅绒骑装,别的任何人穿上都只会显得既呆板又粗俗。

车夫勒住他的四匹黑马,整支队伍停在了州府门前,有一道弯曲铁条做成的栏杆把州府和公用街道隔开来。这时发生了一件令人尴尬的事,老南方教堂的钟声正好敲响了一场葬礼的丧钟;结果,埃莉诺小姐没有受到按惯例宣告贵宾到来的喜庆钟声的迎接,却被一阵哀伤的当啷声所导引,仿佛灾难就蕴藏在她那娇美的身影中。

“这是大大的失敬!”兰福德上尉叫道,他是一位英国军官,新近给舒特总督送来了公文急件。“葬礼应该推迟举行才是,免得埃莉诺小姐被这种倒霉的迎接方式弄得心情不快。”

“请原谅,先生。”克拉克博士回答说,他是一位医生,也是民众拥戴的著名斗士。“不论预兆是什么,一个死去的乞丐应该优先于一个活着的女王。死亡之神赐予了至高无上的特权。”

他们一边交谈,一边等着人群让出一条路;州府门前每个方向上都聚满了人,只留出一条通向州府门厅的通道。一个穿着号衣的黑奴从马车背后跳出来,打开了车门;与此同时,舒特总督走下了府邸的台阶,准备扶埃莉诺小姐下车。然而总督庄严的进程却被人抢了先,弄得所有的人都目瞪口呆。有一个面色苍白的年轻人,满头黑发蓬乱不堪,竟然从人堆中冲出来,匍匐在马车旁边,把自己的身体奉献给埃莉诺·罗彻克利夫小姐做下车的踏脚凳。她踌躇了片刻,不过那表情仿佛在疑惑这个年轻人是否配承负她脚步的重量,而并非是不愿意接受一个同类如此可怕的敬意。

“起来,先生。”总督厉声喝道,对着这个莽撞之徒举起了他的手杖,“这狂徒疯疯癫癫的想干什么?”

“不,”埃莉诺小姐调皮地回答说,不过在她的语气中嘲讽多于怜悯,“阁下不要打他。既然有人只想自讨践踏,不给他这种举足之劳的恩惠就太可惜了——况且他也受之无愧呀!”

接着,她就一脚踏上了那个瑟瑟战抖的身体,尽管脚步轻盈得像一道阳光照射在云朵上,同时伸出手来握住了总督的手。埃莉诺小姐保持着这种姿态的时间只有短短一瞬,然而确凿无疑,贵族与世袭骄傲对于人类同情心和天然亲情的践踏,再找不到比这两个人此刻的形象更加适宜的象征了。可是围观者如此为她的美丽所倾倒,而且骄傲对于这样的美人又是如此必不可少,所以他们同时发出了一片热烈的喝彩声。

“这个莽撞无礼的年轻人是谁?”兰福德上尉问道,他这时仍然站在克拉克医生旁边。“要是他神志正常,这么鲁莽就该挨一顿棍子打脚底。如果他是个疯子,就该关起来,免得埃莉诺小姐再遇到麻烦。”

“他叫杰瓦斯·赫尔威斯,”克拉克医生回答说,“一个没有门第和财富,也没有其他优势的年轻人,只有大自然赋予他的头脑和灵魂;他是我们殖民地派驻伦敦代办的秘书,不幸遇见了这位埃莉诺·罗彻克利夫小姐。他爱上了她——她的轻蔑弄得他疯疯癫癫。”

“这么异想天开真是疯了。”英国军官评论道。

“也许是如此。”克拉克医生说,一边皱起了眉头,“不过我告诉你,先生,要是这位趾高气扬地跨进那边府第的小姐不蒙羞受辱的话,我简直要怀疑上天还有没有正义了。她竟然将自己凌驾于人类与生俱来的共有怜悯天性之上。等着瞧吧,看天道会不会以某种方式对她进行惩罚,把她拉到与最卑贱者同等的地位!”

“绝不会!”兰福德上尉愤慨地喊道——“不论她活着还是与祖先同眠,都绝对不会!”

过后没有几天,总督为欢迎埃莉诺·罗彻克利夫小姐而举行舞会。殖民地的首要士绅都受到了邀请,无论远近都是由骑马的信使将请柬送上门,请柬上带有与正式官方公文快件一样的信函封印。大家应邀而至,拥有地位、财富和美貌的来宾济济一堂;州府的大门很少接纳过像埃莉诺小姐的舞会这么众多和显贵的来宾。无须堆砌溢美之词,整个场面可以称之为“壮丽辉煌”;因为依照当年时尚,女士们浑身绫罗绸缎,光彩照人,裙环撑得长裙下摆远远展开;男士们的上衣和马甲都是紫色、猩红色或者天蓝色的天鹅绒,缀着重重叠叠的金钱刺绣,闪闪发光。一套服装中马甲是至关重要的,因为它把一个人包装到接近膝盖,上面绣满了金色的鲜花和叶簇,或许会耗费掉主人整整一年的进项。如今人们的品味已经有所改变——这种品味象征着整个社会制度的深刻变化——所以今天会认为这些豪华艳丽的装束无不滑稽可笑;可是那天晚上客人们都在拼命寻找自己在大穿衣镜里的影像,瞥见自己在闪闪发光的人群中闪闪发光就欣喜若狂。这些贵重的大镜子没有一块保留下了当时场景的一个画面,真是太可惜了,否则那些稍纵即逝的景象本该教给我们多少值得了解和记忆的东西啊!

至少,倘若有位画家或者有块镜子能让我们知道一点儿故事中提到过的那件衣服——埃莉诺小姐的绣花斗篷——那就好了!流言蜚语已经赋予它许多神秘特性,说是她每次只要披上它就会增添一种新的、人们未曾领略过的优美。这固然是毫无根据的奇思异想,但这件神秘的斗篷却给她在我心目中的形象笼罩上了一层凛然可畏的色彩,部分原因在于它传说中的种种价值,部分原因则在于它出自一位垂死的女人之手,说不定那构思的怪异魅力还要归功于死亡来临之际的精神狂乱呢。

在进行过礼节性问候之后,埃莉诺·罗彻克利夫小姐便离开了众宾客,只待在一个小小的显贵人士的圈子中,她对这个小圈子里的人要比对一般人更亲切热情。蜡制火炬的光线明亮地投射到场中,以强烈的对照衬托出光彩夺目的人物与衣饰;但她只是漫不经心地注视着这一切,不时流露出厌烦与轻蔑的神情,其中糅合着她那种女性的优雅,使得听她说话的人难以觉察出这种神情所表明的道德缺陷。她并不是以粗俗的讥嘲态度来看待这个场景,不屑于欣赏小地方对宫廷庆典的拙劣模仿,而是怀着一种更深的轻蔑,因自己精神上的优越而不愿屈尊参加到别人的欢乐中去。不论当晚见过她的人对这场舞会的回忆是否受到后来与她有关的奇异事件的影响,总之他们以后一想起她来就觉得她特别骄狂和做作——尽管当时大家都悄声赞叹她美貌无双,以及那件斗篷给她带来的无法形容的魅力。某些做过近距离观察的人还确实发现,她的脸色随着情绪的高低起落时而像热病似的殷红,时而又转为苍白,有一两次还痛苦而无奈地流露出疲乏无力,仿佛马上就要瘫倒在地上。接着她又神经质地浑身一颤,似乎强打起精神,在谈话中插进几句欢快俏皮却又半带恶意的嘲讽。她的举止与情绪显得如此奇怪,使每一个听她讲话的心智健全的人都感到诧异;再观察她的脸色,那种潜藏不明和不可思议的目光与微笑更是使人困惑,简直令人怀疑她的态度是否认真和神志是否清醒。渐渐地,埃莉诺小姐身边的圈子越来越小,最后只留下了四位先生。其中有兰福德上尉,即前面提到过的那位英国军官;有一位弗吉尼亚的种植园主,他是到马萨诸塞来完成某项政治使命的;有一位年轻的圣公会牧师,他是一位英国伯爵的孙子;最后还有舒特总督的私人秘书,他的讨好献媚已经多少博得了埃莉诺小姐的默认。

在晚会的不同时间,都有身穿号衣的州府仆从穿行于宾客之间,手里托着放有各种点心和法国与西班牙葡萄酒的大托盘。埃莉诺·罗彻克利夫小姐拒绝让香槟酒的哪怕一点泡沫来沾湿她那美丽的嘴唇,她深深坐进一把大马士革缎面的大扶手椅里,显然对这种场面的骚乱刺激或者单调乏味感到厌烦透顶。有那么一刻,她对四周的谈话、笑声和音乐都丧失了知觉,就在此时,一个年轻人悄悄走上前来,跪在她的脚下。他手里端着一只托盘,盘里放着一只雕花银质高脚杯,杯中满满盛着酒。他就像对一位加冕的女王那样恭敬地献上这杯酒,或者说像是一位牧师无限虔诚地向他的偶像奉上祭祀品。埃莉诺小姐察觉到有人碰了碰她的裙子,不禁吃了一惊,她睁开眼睛,看见了杰瓦斯·赫尔威斯那苍白而狂乱的面容和蓬乱的头发。

“你为什么老这样缠着我?”她用没精打采的声音说,不过比她平日准许自己使用的语气要和气一些,“人家告诉我说我曾经伤害过你。”

“上天知道是不是这样。”年轻人庄严地回答说,“不过,埃莉诺小姐,为了报偿那种伤害,如果说有过伤害的话,也为了你的现世与来生的福祉,我请求你喝一口这神圣之酒,再把酒杯传给客人们。这将作为一种象征,表明你不愿脱离人类同情心的环链——无论谁想摆脱这个环链,都必将与堕落的天使为伍。”

“这个疯子是从哪里偷来那只圣杯的呀?”圣公会牧师惊呼道。

这一问把宾客们的注意力都吸引到那只银杯上来,大家认出这正是放在老南方教堂圣盘上的那只杯子,或许杯里满盛着的就是圣酒呢。

“说不定里面下了毒药。”总督秘书半似耳语地说。

“把它灌进这个浑蛋的喉咙!”弗吉尼亚人恶狠狠地喊道。

“把他赶出去!”兰福德上尉叫嚷着,同时粗暴地抓住杰瓦斯·赫尔威斯的肩膀,结果打翻了圣杯,杯里的东西全洒在了埃莉诺小姐的斗篷上。“不管这个家伙是恶棍、傻瓜还是疯子,总之不能容他逍遥自在!”

“先生们,请不要伤害我可怜的崇拜者。”埃莉诺小姐说,脸上浮现出淡淡的、厌倦的微笑,“把他从我眼前弄走,假如你们乐意的话;因为我在心中除了对他的嘲笑以外就什么也找不到了。不过,出于礼仪和良心,我还是该为自己造成的伤害哭泣才合适!”

可是当旁观者试图把那个不幸的年轻人带走的时候,他却挣脱开来,以狂乱而激动的恳切态度向埃莉诺小姐提出一个新的、同样古怪的请求。这个请求不是别的,而是要她脱掉那件斗篷;刚才他要求她啜取银杯中的酒时,她用那件斗篷紧紧地裹住身体,几乎把自己完全包了起来。

“把它从你身上扯掉!”杰瓦斯·赫尔威斯喊道,绞紧双手痛苦地恳求着,“现在也许还不算太晚!把这该诅咒的衣服丢进火里烧了!”

然而,埃莉诺小姐却轻蔑地大笑一声,把褶皱重叠的绣花斗篷一直拉到头顶,这种穿着式样又给她美丽的脸庞赋予了一种全新的容貌,她的脸半遮半掩——似乎属于某个具有神秘性格和意图的生灵。

“再见了,杰瓦斯·赫尔威斯!”她说,“把我的形象保留在你的记忆里,记住你现在看到的这副模样。”

“唉,小姐!”他回答道,语气不再那么狂乱,而是哀伤得像丧钟一样,“我们很快就会再见面的,那时你的脸会另换一副模样——那才是应该藏在我心中的形象。”

他不再抗拒宾客与仆人的暴力行为,他们几乎是把他硬拖出房间,粗暴地把他推出了州府的大铁门。兰福德上尉在这件事上一直非常卖力,就在他返回埃莉诺小姐身边时,遇上了那位医生克拉克博士,他们二人曾在小姐到达之日做过随意交谈。医生远远站在一边,与埃莉诺小姐隔着整个房间的距离,但一直在以敏锐而精明的目光注视着她,兰福德上尉不由得认为他一定发现了什么深藏的秘密。

“看来你到底被这位女王似的小姐的魅力打垮啦。”他说,希望借此引出医生的心里话。

“上帝保佑不是如此!”克拉克医生回答道,庄重地笑了笑,“假如你还明智的话,也会为自己做同样的祈祷。那些拜倒在美丽的埃莉诺小姐面前的人要倒大霉了!不过总督就站在那边——我有些话要同他私下谈谈。晚安!”

于是他朝舒特总督走去,低声对他讲了几句话,声音小得让旁边任何一个人也没有听到一个字,不过总督一直很欢悦的脸色突然一变,表明谈话的内容绝不愉快。片刻之后他就向宾客宣布,由于某种未曾预料到的情况,必须提前结束这场晚会。

接下来的几天里,州府这场舞会为整个殖民地首府提供了一个谈话题材,它本来可能成为持续更久的普遍话题,只是因为发生了一件与所有人利害攸关的事情,才一度将这个话题逐出了公众记忆。那就是出现了一种可怕的传染病,它在当时以及前后很长的时间里常常会杀死大西洋两岸成百上千的人。在我们这个故事发生之时,这种病以一种特殊毒性而著称,其严重性足以在这个国家的历史上留下它的痕迹——用贴切的说法,就是刻下天花疤痕——所以这种病灾的猖獗使得举国上下惊惶不堪。

一开始,这种病并不像其通常的传播方式,似乎只限于上流社会,专门从那些傲慢自大、出身名门、拥有财富的人当中挑选牺牲品,坦然自若地侵入堂皇华贵的卧室,与睡在锦缎卧榻上的人同眠共枕。州府晚会上一些最显贵的客人——甚至包括傲慢的埃莉诺小姐认为不屑一顾的那些人——受到了这种致命疾病的打击。人们怀着有失宽厚的嘲讽情绪注意到那四位绅士——弗吉尼亚种植园主、英国军官、年轻牧师和总督的私人秘书——在舞会之夜对埃莉诺最为殷勤的四个人,最先受到瘟疫的袭击。然而,这场瘟疫继续蔓延开来,很快就不只是贵族阶级独享的特权了。它那通红的烙印不再像一颗贵族饰星或者一枚骑士勋章。它曲曲折折地穿过狭窄而弯曲的街道,钻入低矮、简陋、昏黑的住所,把死亡之手伸向了城镇里的水手、工匠和劳动阶层。它迫使富人和穷人感觉到相互之间的同胞情谊;它在三山之间纵横肆虐,那种凶猛劲简直是一场新的鼠疫。那个威力强大的征服者来啦——那种袭击我们祖先的灾难和恐怖来啦——天花!即使把这场可怕瘟疫看作今天的无牙妖魔,也难以恰当估量它在当时所造成的恐慌。

我们一定记得,我们曾怎样满怀敬畏地目睹亚洲霍乱横行无忌,大步践踏大西洋的一段又一段海岸,像厄运降临在遥远的城市之上,逃窜的居民撇下的只是半座空城。再没有什么比这种恐惧更可怕更残忍了,它使人竟然因担心空气有毒而害怕呼吸,竟然因担心传染疾病而害怕紧握兄弟或朋友的手。紧随着这次瘟疫而产生的正是这种沮丧情绪,它甚至在瘟疫未来到之前就已传遍了全城。人们匆忙地挖掘出坟墓,慌乱地掩埋掉病死者的遗体,因为死者就是活人的仇敌,仿佛死者要拼命将活人拽进自己阴森的墓坑。公众会议都暂时停止,似乎人类智慧最好放弃它的谋略手段,既然超自然的篡位者已经在宫廷官府里登堂入室。假如敌人的舰队正在海岸线上游弋,或者敌军的铁蹄正在践踏着我们的国土,人们大概也会将守土之责托付给祸害了他们的那同一位可怕的征服者,而不允许对他的统治稍加干预。这位征服者拥有一种胜利的标志,那就是一面血红的旗帜,它飘扬在病毒污染的空气中,飘扬在天花瘟疫侵入的每一家的门上。

这样一面旗帜早就招展在州府的大门上方了,因为追溯灾难的起源,这场可怕的瘟疫显然就是从这里开始传播的。进而可以一直追溯到一位小姐的豪华闺房——追溯到傲慢者中的最傲慢者——追溯到那个无比娇美、自以为是天仙胚子的女人——追溯到那个目空一切、竟敢用脚践踏人类同情心的人——追溯到埃莉诺小姐!毫无疑问,传染病毒就潜藏在那件华丽的斗篷中,在舞会上它曾给埃莉诺小姐增添了如此奇异的魅力。它那怪异的光彩是一个垂死女人的谵妄头脑孕育出来的,是她的僵硬手指茹苦含辛的最后遗作,因此那些金线中便织进了厄运与苦难。

这个阴森的传说开始只是悄悄流传,现在则已广为人知。人们激烈地斥责埃莉诺小姐,大声宣称正是她的骄傲与轻蔑召来了魔鬼,正是她与魔鬼共谋带来了这场怪异的灾难。有时候,人们的愤怒与绝望会以苦涩欢乐的面貌出现,只要那面标志瘟疫的红旗在一家又一家的门前升起,大家就会到街头去拍着巴掌高声喊叫,辛辣地嘲讽道:“看哪,埃莉诺小姐又胜利啦!”

就在这些阴郁的日子里,有一天,一个模样狂野的人走近了州府大门;他环抱双臂,站在那儿注视着那面猩红色的旗帜,一阵微风将它突然吹动,仿佛要将它所象征的疾病抛向四方。最后,他攀着铁栏杆爬上了柱子,摘下那面旗帜后便走进了州府,同时举起旗帜在头顶挥舞着。在台阶脚下他遇见了总督,总督穿带着马刺的靴子,斗篷紧裹着全身,显然正要出门旅行。

“讨厌的疯子,你来这儿想找什么?”舒特总督喝道,伸出手杖来护卫自己免受接触,“这儿除了死神什么也没有。回去——不然你会碰上它的!”

“死神是不会碰我的,我是瘟疫的旗手!”杰瓦斯·赫尔威斯喊叫道,一面把红色旗帜高高举起摇动着,“今天晚上,死神和瘟疫会以埃莉诺小姐的模样走遍大街小巷,我必须举着这面旗帜在前面开路!”

“我何必对这个家伙白费唇舌呢?”总督咕哝道,把斗篷拉过来掩住自己的嘴,“他这条贱命何足轻重?反正我们谁也不清楚自己能否再活十二个小时。朝前走吧,傻瓜,走向你自己的毁灭吧。”

他给杰瓦斯·赫尔威斯让开道,后者立刻登上了台阶,可是刚走到第一段楼梯平台,他的肩膀就被一只手紧紧抓住。他气势汹汹地抬头观看,疯狂的冲动使他想要跟对手拼斗并挣扎开来,但在一道平静而严厉的眼光俯视之下他顿感软弱无力,那道眼光具有平息极度狂暴的神奇力量。他所面对的是那位医生,克拉克博士,令人悲哀的职责把他引到州府里来了,而在升平昌盛之时他倒并非是这里的常客。

“年轻人,你来干什么?”他问道。

“我找埃莉诺小姐。”杰瓦斯·赫尔威斯柔顺地回答。

“所有的人都从她身边逃离了。”医生说,“你为什么现在还来找她呢?告诉你,年轻人,连她的看护都在那间致命的闺房门槛边倒毙了。难道你不知道,我们的海岸上从来没有降临过像可爱的埃莉诺小姐这样的灾星?你不知道正是她的呼吸使空气中充满了毒素?你不知道撒播在这块土地上的瘟疫与死亡,正是从她那件该诅咒的斗篷的褶皱里抖落出来的?”

“让我看她一眼!”疯狂的年轻人回答说,神情更加狂乱,“让我看看她,看看她那令人敬畏的美貌,穿着那件撒播瘟疫的华贵服装!她和死神并坐在宝座上。让我跪倒在他们脚下!”

“可怜的年轻人啊!”克拉克博士说,对人性弱点的深刻意识令他动情,甚至此时他的唇边也泛出了一丝讥讽的笑容,“难道你仍然崇拜这个毁灭者,她所制造的邪恶越多,你反而越要用更壮丽的幻想来包裹她的形象吗?人类对压迫自己的暴君历来就是这样。那么,进去吧!我已经注意到了,疯狂具有一种良好的功效,它会保护你免受传染——说不定在那间闺房里还能找到治疗疯狂的药方呢。”

他登上另一段阶梯,推开了一道门,示意杰瓦斯·赫尔威斯进屋去。这个可怜的疯子,大概心中怀着虚妄的幻想,以为他那位高傲的女王正庄严端坐,尽管她像使用妖术似的在自己周围撒播了瘟疫,她本人却丝毫不受影响。毫无疑问,他梦想着她的美丽非但不会有丝毫减色,反倒会增添超凡的光彩。他心中怀着期望,虔敬地轻轻走向医生所站的门边,但一到门槛前又停住脚步,疑惧重重地探视着昏黑的房间里那一片阴暗。

“埃莉诺小姐在哪儿?”他悄声问道。

“叫她一声。”医生回答说。

“埃莉诺小姐!公主殿下!死神王后!”杰瓦斯喊道,朝卧室里前进了三步,“她不在这儿!那儿,那边的桌子上,我看见她曾经戴在胸前的那颗钻石在闪光。那儿——”他打了个冷战——“那儿挂着她的斗篷,一个死去的女人绣进了具有可怕威力的诅咒。可是埃莉诺小姐在哪儿呢?”

在一张支着华盖的卧榻的锦缎帐幔后面,有什么东西动了动;同时还传出低低的一声呻吟。杰瓦斯·赫尔威斯仔细一听,分辨出这是一个女人的声音,正在哀伤地抱怨说口渴。他想自己认识这声调。

“我的喉咙!我的喉咙像火在烧,”那声音咕哝着说,“给我一点水!”

“你是谁?”头脑被击蒙了的年轻人问道,一面走近床边猛地拉开帐幔,“你这些抱怨和哀求是偷了谁的声音,就好像埃莉诺小姐竟然会感知到凡人的病痛?呸!你这病得要死的破烂货,为什么藏在我的小姐的闺房里?”

“啊,杰瓦斯·赫尔威斯,”那个声音说道——在发出声音的时候,那个人形不停扭动,挣扎着要藏起她毁损了的脸孔——“如今别看你曾经爱过的女人!上天的诅咒已经打垮了我,因为我不肯把男人称作兄弟,把女人称作姐妹。我用骄傲包裹起自己,就像披上斗篷一样,藐视人类天生的同情心;因此天道才把我弄成这副惨相,成为可怕的怜悯对象。你报了仇——大家都报了仇——天道也报了仇——因为我就是埃莉诺·罗彻克利夫!”

尽管因为生命横遭摧残毁灭,杰瓦斯·赫尔威斯已陷于疯狂,但精神疾病所产生的恶意,心底潜藏的痛苦,以及遭受冷酷蔑视的爱情,此时都在他的胸中苏醒过来。他对着悲惨的姑娘挥动战抖的手指,爆发出一阵疯狂的欢笑,卧房里激起回响,床上的帐幔也随之震动。

“埃莉诺小姐又胜利啦!”他大叫道,“一切都是她的牺牲品!谁能像她自己那样配做最后的牺牲品呢?”

在自己疯狂心智的某个新狂想的驱使下,他一把扯下那件致命的斗篷,冲出了房间和州府。那天晚上,一支游行队伍高举火把走过街头,队列中段抬着一个女人的塑像,裹着一件华丽的绣花斗篷。杰瓦斯·赫尔威斯昂首阔步走在队列的前头,手里挥舞着那面象征瘟疫的红旗。到达州府对面,众人烧掉了那个模拟像,一阵狂风吹来,刮走了灰烬。

据说从那一刻起,瘟疫就销声匿迹了,仿佛从瘟疫初始到结束,它的威力都与埃莉诺小姐那件斗篷有着某种神秘的关系。至于那位不幸小姐的最后命运,则始终笼罩着一片疑云。不过,有人相信在州府的某个房间里,不时能朦胧觉察到一个女子的身影,龟缩在最黑暗的角落里,用一件绣花斗篷捂住她的面孔。假如此项传说事属真实,这个人除了昔日那位高傲的埃莉诺小姐又能是谁呢?

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