the professor(教授)-第57节
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commode； my books on a shelf； and the “flitting” was effected。 I
should not have been unhappy that day had not one pang tortured
me—a longing to go to the Rue Notre Dame aux Neiges； resisted；
yet irritated by an inward resolve to avoid that street till such time
as the mist of doubt should clear from my prospects。
It was a sweet September evening—very mild； very still； I had
nothing to do； at that hour I knew Frances would be equally
released from occupation； I thought she might possibly be wishing
for her master； I knew I wished for my pupil。 Imagination began
with her low whispers； infusing into my soul the soft tale of
pleasures that might be。
“You will find her reading or writing；” said she； “you can take
your seat at her side； you need not startle her peace by undue
excitement； you need not embarrass her manner by unusual
action or language。 Be as you always are； look over what she has
written； listen while she reads； chide her； or quietly approve； you
know the effect of either system； you know her smile when
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The Professor 236
pleased； you know the play of her looks when roused； you have the
secret of awakening that expression you will； and you can choose
amongst that pleasant variety。 With you she will sit silent as long
as it suits you to talk alone； you can hold her under a potent spell：
intelligent as she is； eloquent as she can be； you can seal her lips；
and veil her bright countenance with diffidence； yet； you know；
she is not all monotonous mildness； you have seen； with a sort of
strange pleasure； revolt； scorn； austerity； bitterness； lay energetic
claim to a place in her feelings and physiognomy； you know that
few could rule her as you do； you know she might break； but never
bend under the hand of Tyranny and Injustice； but Reason and
Affection can guide her by a sign。 Try their influence now。 Go—
they are not passions； you may handle them safely。”
“I will not go；” was my answer to the sweet temptress。 A man is
master of himself to a certain point； but not beyond it。 Could I seek
Frances to…night； could I sit with her alone in a quiet room； and
address her only in the language of Reason and Affection？”
“No；” was the brief； fervent reply of that Love which had
conquered and now controlled me。
Time seemed to stagnate； the sun would not go down； my watch
ticked； but I thought the hands were paralyzed。
“What a hot evening！” I cried； throwing open the lattice； for；
indeed； I had seldom felt so feverish。 Hearing a step ascending the
common stair； I wondered whether the locataire； now mounting to
his apartments； were as unsettled in mind and condition as I was；
or whether he lived in the calm of certain resources； and in the
freedom of unfettered feelings。 What！ was he coming in person to
solve the problem hardly proposed in inaudible thought？ He had
actually knocked at the door—at my door； a smart； prompt rap；
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The Professor 237
and； almost before I could invite him in； he was over the threshold；
and had closed the door behind him。
“And how are you？” asked an indifferent； quiet voice； in the
English language； while my visitor； without any sort of bustle or
introduction； put his hat on the table； and his gloves into his hat；
and drawing the only armchair the room afforded a little forward；
seated himself tranquilly therein。
“Can’t you speak？” he inquired in a few moments； in a tone
whose nonchalance seemed to intimate that it was much the same
thing whether I answered or not。 The fact is； I found it desirable to
have recourse to my good friends “les bésicles；” not exactly to
ascertain the identity of my visitor—for I already knew him；
confound his impudence！ but to see how he looked—to get a clear
notion of his mien and countenance。 I wiped the glasses very
deliberately； and put them on quite as deliberately； adjusting them
so as not to hurt the bridge of my nose or get entangled in my
short tufts of dun hair。 I was sitting in the window…seat； with my
back to the light； and I had him vis…à…vis； a position he would
much rather have had reversed； for； at any time； he preferred
scrutinizing to being scrutinized。 Yes； it was he； and no mistake；
with his six feet of length arranged in a sitting attitude； with his
dark travelling surtout with its velvet collar； his grey pantaloons；
his black stock； and his face； the most original one Nature ever
modelled； yet the least obtrusively so； not one feature that could
be termed marked or odd； yet the effect of the whole unique。
There is no use in attempting to describe what is indescribable。
Being in no hurry to address him； I sat and stared at my ease。
“Oh； that’s your game—is it？” said he at last。 “Well； we’ll see
which is soonest tired。” And he slowly drew out a fine cigar…case；
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picked one to his taste； lit it； took a book from the shelf convenient
to his hand； then leaning back； proceeded to smoke and read as
tranquilly as if he had been in his own room； in Grove Street； —…
shire； England。 I knew he was capable of continuing in that
attitude till midnight； if he conceived the whim； so I rose； and
taking the book from his hand； I said；—
“You did not ask for it； and you shall not have it。”
“It is silly and dull；” he observed； “so I have not lost much；”
then the spell being broken； he went on。 “I thought you lived at
Pelet’s； I went there this afternoon。 expecting to be starved to
death by sitting in a boarding…school drawing…room； and they told
me you were gone； had departed this morning； you had left your
address behind you though； which I wondered at； it was a more
practical and sensible precaution than I should have imagined you
capable of。 Why did you leave？”
“Because M。 Pelet has just married the lady whom you and Mr。
Brown assigned to me as my wife。”
“Oh； indeed！” replied Hunsden with a short laugh； “so you’ve
lost both your wife and your place？”
“Precisely so。”
I saw him give a quick； covert glance all round my room； he
marked its narrow limits； its scanty furniture： in an instant he had
comprehended the state of matters—had absolved me from the
crime of prosperity。 A curious effect this discovery wrought in his
strange mind； I am morally certain that if he had found me
installed in a handsome parlour； lounging on a soft couch； with a
pretty； wealthy wife at my side； he would have hated me； a brief；
cold； haughty visit； would in such a case have been the extreme
limit of his civilities； and never would he have come near me more；
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so long as the tide of fortune bore me smoothly on its surface； but
the painted furniture； the bare walls； the cheerless solitude of my
room relaxed his rigid pride； and I know not what softening
change had taken place both in his voice and look ere he spoke
again。
“You have got another place？”
“No。”
“You are in the way of getting one？”
“No。”
“That is bad； have you applied to Brown？”
“No； indeed。”
“You had better； he often has it in his power to give useful
information in such matters。”
