cranford(克兰弗德)-第21节
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were the same again after that； they had always a restless； craving look；
as if seeking for what they could not find。 Oh！ it was an awful time；
coming down like a thunder…bolt on the still sunny day when the lilacs
were all in bloom。〃
〃Where was Mr Peter？〃 said I。
〃He had made his way to Liverpool； and there was war then； and some
of the king's ships lay off the mouth of the Mersey； and they were only
too glad to have a fine likely boy such as him （five foot nine he was）；
come to offer himself。 The captain wrote to my father； and Peter wrote
to my mother。 Stay！ those letters will be somewhere here。〃
We lighted the candle； and found the captain's letter and Peter's too。
And we also found a little simple begging letter from Mrs Jenkyns to
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Peter； addressed to him at the house of an old schoolfellow whither she
fancied he might have gone。 They had returned it unopened； and
unopened it had remained ever since； having been inadvertently put by
among the other letters of that time。 This is it：…
〃MY DEAREST PETER； … You did not think we should be so sorry
as we are； I know； or you would never have gone away。 You are too
good。 Your father sits and sighs till my heart aches to hear him。 He
cannot hold up his head for grief； and yet he only did what he thought
was right。 Perhaps he has been too severe； and perhaps I have not been
kind enough； but God knows how we love you； my dear only boy。 Don
looks so sorry you are gone。 Come back； and make us happy； who love
you so much。 I know you will come back。〃
But Peter did not come back。 That spring day was the last time he
ever saw his mother's face。 The writer of the letter … the last … the only
person who had ever seen what was written in it； was dead long ago； and
I； a stranger； not born at the time when this occurrence took place； was
the one to open it。
The captain's letter summoned the father and mother to Liverpool
instantly； if they wished to see their boy； and； by some of the wild
chances of life； the captain's letter had been detained somewhere；
somehow。
Miss Matty went on； 〃And it was racetime； and all the post…horses at
Cranford were gone to the races； but my father and mother set off in our
own gig … and oh！ my dear； they were too late … the ship was gone！ And
now read Peter's letter to my mother！〃
It was full of love； and sorrow； and pride in his new profession； and a
sore sense of his disgrace in the eyes of the people at Cranford； but
ending with a passionate entreaty that she would come and see him
before he left the Mersey： 〃Mother； we may go into battle。 I hope we
shall； and lick those French： but I must see you again before that time。〃
〃And she was too late；〃 said Miss Matty； 〃too late！〃
We sat in silence； pondering on the full meaning of those sad； sad
words。 At length I asked Miss Matty to tell me how her mother bore it。
〃Oh！〃 she said； 〃she was patience itself。 She had never been strong；
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and this weakened her terribly。 My father used to sit looking at her： far
more sad than she was。 He seemed as if he could look at nothing else
when she was by； and he was so humble … so very gentle now。 He
would； perhaps； speak in his old way … laying down the law； as it were …
and then； in a minute or two； he would come round and put his hand on
our shoulders； and ask us in a low voice； if he had said anything to hurt
us。 I did not wonder at his speaking so to Deborah； for she was so
clever； but I could not bear to hear him talking so to me。
〃But； you see； he saw what we did not … that it was killing my mother。
Yes！ killing her （put out the candle； my dear； I can talk better in the
dark）； for she was but a frail woman； and ill…fitted to stand the fright and
shock she had gone through； and she would smile at him and comfort
him； not in words； but in her looks and tones； which were always
cheerful when he was there。 And she would speak of how she thought
Peter stood a good chance of being admiral very soon … he was so brave
and clever； and how she thought of seeing him in his navy uniform； and
what sort of hats admirals wore； and how much more fit he was to be a
sailor than a clergyman； and all in that way； just to make my father think
she was quite glad of what came of that unlucky morning's work； and the
flogging which was always in his mind； as we all knew。 But oh； my
dear！ the bitter； bitter crying she had when she was alone； and at last； as
she grew weaker； she could not keep her tears in when Deborah or me
was by； and would give us message after message for Peter （his ship had
gone to the Mediterranean； or somewhere down there； and then he was
ordered off to India； and there was no overland route then）； but she still
said that no one knew where their death lay in wait； and that we were not
to think hers was near。 We did not think it； but we knew it； as we saw
her fading away。
〃Well； my dear； it's very foolish of me； I know； when in all likelihood
I am so near seeing her again。
〃And only think； love！ the very day after her death … for she did not
live quite a twelvemonth after Peter went away … the very day after …
came a parcel for her from India … from her poor boy。 It was a large；
soft； white Indian shawl； with just a little narrow border all round； just
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what my mother would have liked。
〃We thought it might rouse my father； for he had sat with her hand in
his all night long； so Deborah took it in to him； and Peter's letter to her；
and all。 At first； he took no notice； and we tried to make a kind of light
careless talk about the shawl； opening it out and admiring it。 Then；
suddenly； he got up； and spoke： 'She shall be buried in it；' he said； 'Peter
shall have that comfort； and she would have liked it。'
〃Well； perhaps it was not reasonable； but what could we do or say？
One gives people in grief their own way。 He took it up and felt it： 'It is
just such a shawl as she wished for when she was married； and her
mother did not give it her。 I did not know of it till after； or she should
have had it … she should； but she shall have it now。'
〃My mother looked so lovely in her death！ She was always pretty；
and now she looked fair； and waxen； and young … younger than Deborah；
as she stood trembling and shivering by her。 We decked her in the long
soft folds； she lay smiling； as if pleased； and people came … all Cranford
came … to beg to see her； for they had loved her dearly； as well they
might； and the countrywomen brought posies； old Clare's wife brought
some white violets and begged they might lie on her breast。
〃Deborah said to me； the day of my mother's funeral； that if she had
a hundred offers she never would marry and leave my father。 It was
not very likely she would have so many … I don't know that she had one；
but it was not less to her credit to say so。 She was such a daughter to
my father as I think ther
