wessex tales-第29节

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off　to　their　homesteads　in　the　country；　he　came　downstairs；　took　a
biscuit　and　one　glass　of　wine；　and　walked　out　into　the　town；　where
the　radiance　from　the　shop…windows　had　grown　so　in　volume　of　late
years　as　to　flood　with　cheerfulness　every　standing　cart；　barrow；
stall；　and　idler　that　occupied　the　wayside；　whether　shabby　or
genteel。　　His　chief　interest　at　present　seemed　to　lie　in　the　names
painted　over　the　shop…fronts　and　on　door…ways；　as　far　as　they　were
visible；　these　now　differed　to　an　ominous　extent　from　what　they　had
been　one…and…twenty　years　before。

The　traveller　passed　on　till　he　came　to　the　bookseller's；　where　he
looked　in　through　the　glass　door。　　A　fresh…faced　young　man　was
standing　behind　the　counter；　otherwise　the　shop　was　empty。　　The
gray…haired　observer　entered；　asked　for　some　periodical　by　way　of
paying　for　admission；　and　with　his　elbow　on　the　counter　began　to
turn　over　the　pages　he　had　bought；　though　that　he　read　nothing　was
obvious。

At　length　he　said；　'Is　old　Mr。　Watkins　still　alive？'　in　a　voice
which　had　a　curious　youthful　cadence　in　it　even　now。

'My　father　is　dead；　sir；'　said　the　young　man。

'Ah；　I　am　sorry　to　hear　it；'　said　the　stranger。　　'But　it　is　so　many
years　since　I　last　visited　this　town　that　I　could　hardly　expect　it
should　be　otherwise。'　　After　a　short　silence　he　continued'And　is
the　firm　of　Barnet；　Browse；　and　Company　still　in　existence？they
used　to　be　large　flax…merchants　and　twine…spinners　here？'

'The　firm　is　still　going　on；　sir；　but　they　have　dropped　the　name　of
Barnet。　　I　believe　that　was　a　sort　of　fancy　nameat　least；　I　never
knew　of　any　living　Barnet。　　'Tis　now　Browse　and　Co。'

'And　does　Andrew　Jones　still　keep　on　as　architect？'

'He's　dead；　sir。'

'And　the　Vicar　of　St。　Mary'sMr。　Melrose？'

'He's　been　dead　a　great　many　years。'

'Dear　me！'　　He　paused　yet　longer；　and　cleared　his　voice。　　'Is　Mr。
Downe；　the　solicitor；　still　in　practice？'

'No；　sir；　he's　dead。　　He　died　about　seven　years　ago。'

Here　it　was　a　longer　silence　still；　and　an　attentive　observer　would
have　noticed　that　the　paper　in　the　stranger's　hand　increased　its
imperceptible　tremor　to　a　visible　shake。　　That　gray…haired　gentleman
noticed　it　himself；　and　rested　the　paper　on　the　counter。　　'Is　MRS。
Downe　still　alive？'　he　asked；　closing　his　lips　firmly　as　soon　as　the
words　were　out　of　his　mouth；　and　dropping　his　eyes。

'Yes；　sir；　she's　alive　and　well。　　She's　living　at　the　old　place。'

'In　East　Street？'

'O　no；　at　Chateau　Ringdale。　　I　believe　it　has　been　in　the　family　for
some　generations。'

'She　lives　with　her　children；　perhaps？'

'No；　she　has　no　children　of　her　own。　　There　were　some　Miss　Downes；　I
think　they　were　Mr。　Downe's　daughters　by　a　former　wife；　but　they　are
married　and　living　in　other　parts　of　the　town。　　Mrs。　Downe　lives
alone。'

'Quite　alone？'

'Yes；　sir；　quite　alone。'

The　newly…arrived　gentleman　went　back　to　the　hotel　and　dined；　after
which　he　made　some　change　in　his　dress；　shaved　back　his　beard　to　the
fashion　that　had　prevailed　twenty　years　earlier；　when　he　was　young
and　interesting；　and　once　more　emerging；　bent　his　steps　in　the
direction　of　the　harbour…road。　　Just　before　getting　to　the　point
where　the　pavement　ceased　and　the　houses　isolated　themselves；　he
overtook　a　shambling；　stooping；　unshaven　man；　who　at　first　sight
appeared　like　a　professional　tramp；　his　shoulders　having　a
perceptible　greasiness　as　they　passed　under　the　gaslight。　　Each
pedestrian　momentarily　turned　and　regarded　the　other；　and　the　tramp…
like　gentleman　started　back。

'Goodwhyis　that　Mr。　Barnet？　　'Tis　Mr。　Barnet；　surely！'

'Yes；　and　you　are　Charlson？'

'Yesahyou　notice　my　appearance。　　The　Fates　have　rather　ill…used
me。　　By…the…bye；　that　fifty　pounds。　　I　never　paid　it；　did　I？　。　。　。
But　I　was　not　ungrateful！'　　Here　the　stooping　man　laid　one　hand
emphatically　on　the　palm　of　the　other。　　'I　gave　you　a　chance；　Mr。
George　Barnet；　which　many　men　would　have　thought　full　value
receivedthe　chance　to　marry　your　Lucy。　　As　far　as　the　world　was
concerned；　your　wife　was　a　DROWNED　WOMAN；　hey？'

'Heaven　forbid　all　that；　Charlson！'

'Well；　well；　'twas　a　wrong　way　of　showing　gratitude；　I　suppose。　　And
now　a　drop　of　something　to　drink　for　old　acquaintance'　sake！　　And
Mr。　Barnet；　she's　again　freethere's　a　chance　now　if　you　care　for
itha；　ha！'　　And　the　speaker　pushed　his　tongue　into　his　hollow
cheek　and　slanted　his　eye　in　the　old　fashion。

'I　know　all；'　said　Barnet　quickly；　and　slipping　a　small　present　into
the　hands　of　the　needy；　saddening　man；　he　stepped　ahead　and　was　soon
in　the　outskirts　of　the　town。

He　reached　the　harbour…road；　and　paused　before　the　entrance　to　a
well…known　house。　　It　was　so　highly　bosomed　in　trees　and　shrubs
planted　since　the　erection　of　the　building　that　one　would　scarcely
have　recognized　the　spot　as　that　which　had　been　a　mere　neglected
slope　till　chosen　as　a　site　for　a　dwelling。　　He　opened　the　swing…
gate；　closed　it　noiselessly；　and　gently　moved　into　the　semicircular
drive；　which　remained　exactly　as　it　had　been　marked　out　by　Barnet　on
the　morning　when　Lucy　Savile　ran　in　to　thank　him　for　procuring　her
the　post　of　governess　to　Downe's　children。　　But　the　growth　of　trees
and　bushes　which　revealed　itself　at　every　step　was　beyond　all
expectation；　sun…proof　and　moon…proof　bowers　vaulted　the　walks；　and
the　walls　of　the　house　were　uniformly　bearded　with　creeping　plants
as　high　as　the　first…floor　windows。

After　lingering　for　a　few　minutes　in　the　dusk　of　the　bending　boughs；
the　visitor　rang　the　door…bell；　and　on　the　servant　appearing；　he
announced　himself　as　'an　old　friend　of　Mrs。　Downe's。'

The　hall　was　lighted；　but　not　brightly；　the　gas　being　turned　low；　as
if　visitors　were　rare。　　There　was　a　stagnation　in　the　dwelling；　it
seemed　to　be　waiting。　　Could　it　really　be　waiting　for　him？　　The
partitions　which　had　been　probed　by　Barnet's　walking…stick　when　the
mortar　was　green；　were　now　quite　brown　with　the　antiquity　of　their
varnish；　and　the　ornamental　woodwork　of　the　staircase；　which　had
glistened　with　a　pale　yellow　newness　when　first　erected；　was　now　of
a　rich　wine…colour。　　During　the　servant's　absence　the　following
colloquy　could　be　dimly　heard　through　the　nearly　closed　door　of　the
drawing…room。

'He　didn't　give　his　name？'

'He　only　said　〃an　old　friend；〃　ma'am。'

'What　kind　of　gentleman　is　he？'

'A　staidish　gentleman；　with　gray　hair。'

The　voice　of　the　second　speaker　seemed　to　affect　the　listener
greatly。　　After　a　pause；　the　lady　said；　'Very　well；　I　will　see　him。'

And　the　stranger　was　shown　in　face　to　face　with　the　Lucy　who　had
once　been　Lucy　Savile。　　The　round　cheek　of　that　formerly　young　lady
had；　of　course；　alarmingly　flattened　its　curve　in　her　modern
representative；　a　pervasive　grayness　overspread　her　once　dark　brown
hair；　like　morning　rime　on　heather。　　The　parting　down　the　middle　was
wide　and　jagged；　once　it　had　been　a　thin　white　line；　a　narrow
crevice　between　two　high　banks　of　shade。　　But　there　was　still　enough
left　to　form　a　handsome　knob　behind；　and　some　curls　beneath
inwrought　with　a　few　hairs　like　silver　wires　were　very　becoming。　　In
her　eyes　the　only　modification　was　that　their　originally　mild
rectitude　of　expression　had　become　a　little　more　stringent　than
heretofore。　　Yet　she　was　still　girlisha　girl　who　had　been
gratuitously　weighted　by　destiny　with　a　burden　of　five…and…forty
years　instead　of　her　proper　twenty。

'Lucy；　don't　you　know　me？'　he　said；　when　the　servant　had　closed　the
door。

'I　knew　you　the　instant　I　saw　you！'　she　returned　cheerfully。　　'I
don't　know　why；　but　I　always　thought　you　would　come　back　to　your　old
town　again。'

She　gave　him　her　hand；　and　then　they　sat　down。　　'They　said　you　were
dead；'　continued　Lucy；　'but　I　never　thought　so。　　We　should　have
heard　of　it　for　certain　if　you　had　been。'

'It　is　a　very　long　time　since　we　met。'

'Yes；　what　you　must　have　seen；　Mr。　Barnet；　in　all　these　roving
years；　in　comparison　with　what　I　have　seen　in　this　quiet　place！'
Her　face　grew　more　serious。　　'You　know　my　husband　has　been　dead　a
long　time？　　I　am　a　lonely　old　woman　now；　considering　what　I　have
been；　though　Mr。　Downe's　daughtersall　marriedmanage　to　keep　me
pretty　cheerful。'

'And　I　am　a　lonely　old　man；　and　have　been　any　time　these　twenty
years。'

'But　where　have　you　kept　yourself？　　And　why　did　you　go　off　so
mysteriously？'

'Well；　Lucy；　I　have　kept　myself　a　little　in　America；　and　a　little　in
Australia；　a　little　in　India；　a　little　at　the　Cape；　and　so　on；　I
have　not　stayed　in　any　place　for　a　long　time；　as　it　seems　to　me；　and
yet　more　than　twenty　years　have　flown。　　But　when　people　get　to　my
age　two　years　go　like　one！Your　second　question；　why　did　I　go　away
so　mysteriously；　is　surely　not　necessary。　　You　guessed　why；　didn't
you？'

'No；　I　never　once　guessed；'　she　said　simply；　'nor　did　Charles；　nor
did　anybody　as　far　as　I　know。'

'Well；　indeed！　　Now　think　it　over　again；　and　then　look　at　me；　and
say　if　you　can't　guess？'

She　looked　him　in　the　face　with　an　inquiring　smile。　　'Surely　not
because　of　me？'　she　said；　pausing　at　the　commencement　of　surprise。

Barnet　nodded；　and　smiled　again；　but　his　smile　was　sadder　than　hers。

'Because　I　married　Charles？'　she　asked。

'Yes；