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第11节

half a life-time ago-第11节

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leaning his dead weight against the lintel of the door; she tried to

undo the latch; but now; just at this moment; a trembling faintness

came over her; and a fearful dread took possession of herthat here;

on the very threshold of her home; she might be found dead; and

buried under the snow; when the farm…servants came in the morning。

This terror stirred her up to one more effort。  Then she and her

companion were in the warmth of the quiet haven of that kitchen; she

laid him on the settle; and sank on the floor by his side。  How long

she remained in this swoon she could not tell; not very long she

judged by the fire; which was still red and sullenly glowing when she

came to herself。  She lighted the candle; and bent over her late

burden to ascertain if indeed he were dead。  She stood long gazing。

The man lay dead。  There could be no doubt about it。  His filmy eyes

glared at her; unshut。  But Susan was not one to be affrighted by the

stony aspect of death。  It was not that; it was the bitter; woeful

recognition of Michael Hurst!



She was convinced he was dead; but after a while she refused to

believe in her conviction。  She stripped off his wet outer…garments

with trembling; hurried hands。  She brought a blanket down from her

own bed; she made up the fire。  She swathed him in fresh; warm

wrappings; and laid him on the flags before the fire; sitting herself

at his head; and holding it in her lap; while she tenderly wiped his

loose; wet hair; curly still; although its colour had changed from

nut…brown to iron…gray since she had seen it last。  From time to time

she bent over the face afresh; sick; and fain to believe that the

flicker of the fire…light was some slight convulsive motion。  But the

dim; staring eyes struck chill to her heart。  At last she ceased her

delicate; busy cares:  but she still held the head softly; as if

caressing it。  She thought over all the possibilities and chances in

the mingled yarn of their lives that might; by so slight a turn; have

ended far otherwise。  If her mother's cold had been early tended; so

that the responsibility as to her brother's weal or woe had not

fallen upon her; if the fever had not taken such rough; cruel hold on

Will; nay; if Mrs。 Gale; that hard; worldly sister; had not

accompanied him on his last visit to Yew Nookhis very last before

this fatal; stormy might; if she had heard his cry;cry uttered by

these pale; dead lips with such wild; despairing agony; not yet three

hours ago!O! if she had but heard it sooner; he might have been

saved before that blind; false step had precipitated him down the

rock!  In going over this weary chain of unrealized possibilities;

Susan learnt the force of Peggy's words。  Life was short; looking

back upon it。  It seemed but yesterday since all the love of her

being had been poured out; and run to waste。  The intervening years

the long monotonous years that had turned her into an old woman

before her timewere but a dream。



The labourers coming in the dawn of the winter's day were surprised

to see the fire…light through the low kitchen…window。  They knocked;

and hearing a moaning answer; they entered; fearing that something

had befallen their mistress。  For all explanation they got these

words



〃It is Michael Hurst。  He was belated; and fell down the Raven's

Crag。  Where does Eleanor; his wife; live?〃



How Michael Hurst got to Yew Nook no one but Susan ever knew。  They

thought he had dragged himself there; with some sore internal bruise

sapping away his minuted life。  They could not have believed the

superhuman exertion which had first sought him out; and then dragged

him hither。  Only Susan knew of that。



She gave him into the charge of her servants; and went out and

saddled her horse。  Where the wind had drifted the snow on one side;

and the road was clear and bare; she rode; and rode fast; where the

soft; deceitful heaps were massed up; she dismounted and led her

steed; plunging in deep; with fierce energy; the pain at her heart

urging her onwards with a sharp; digging spur。



The gray; solemn; winter's noon was more night…like than the depth of

summer's night; dim…purple brooded the low skies over the white

earth; as Susan rode up to what had been Michael Hurst's abode while

living。  It was a small farm…house carelessly kept outside;

slatternly tended within。  The pretty Nelly Hebthwaite was pretty

still; her delicate face had never suffered from any long…enduring

feeling。  If anything; its expression was that of plaintive sorrow;

but the soft; light hair had scarcely a tinge of gray; the wood…rose

tint of complexion yet remained; if not so brilliant as in youth; the

straight nose; the small mouth were untouched by time。  Susan felt

the contrast even at that moment。  She knew that her own skin was

weather…beaten; furrowed; brown;that her teeth were gone; and her

hair gray and ragged。  And yet she was not two years older than

Nelly;she had not been; in youth; when she took account of these

things。  Nelly stood wondering at the strange…enough horse…woman; who

stopped and panted at the door; holding her horse's bridle; and

refusing to enter。



〃Where is Michael Hurst?〃 asked Susan; at last。



〃Well; I can't rightly say。  He should have been at home last night;

but he was off; seeing after a public…house to be let at Ulverstone;

for our farm does not answer; and we were thinking〃



〃He did not come home last night?〃 said Susan; cutting short the

story; and half…affirming; half…questioning; by way of letting in a

ray of the awful light before she let it full in; in its consuming

wrath。



〃No! he'll be stopping somewhere out Ulverstone ways。  I'm sure we've

need of him at home; for I've no one but lile Tommy to help me tend

the beasts。  Things have not gone well with us; and we don't keep a

servant now。  But you're trembling all over; ma'am。  You'd better

come in; and take something warm; while your horse rests。  That's the

stable…door; to your left。〃



Susan took her horse there; loosened his girths; and rubbed him down

with a wisp of straw。  Then she hooked about her for hay; but the

place was bare of feed; and smelt damp and unused。  She went to the

house; thankful for the respite; and got some clap…bread; which she

mashed up in a pailful of lukewarm water。  Every moment was a

respite; and yet every moment made her dread the more the task that

lay before her。  It would be longer than she thought at first。  She

took the saddle off; and hung about her horse; which seemed; somehow;

more like a friend than anything else in the world。  She laid her

cheek against its neck; and rested there; before returning to the

house for the last time。



Eleanor had brought down one of her own gowns; which hung on a chair

against the fire; and had made her unknown visitor a cup of hot tea。

Susan could hardly bear all these little attentions:  they choked

her; and yet she was so wet; so weak with fatigue and excitement;

that she could neither resist by voice or by action。  Two children

stood awkwardly about; puzzled at the scene; and even Eleanor began

to wish for some explanation of who her strange visitor was。



〃You've; maybe; heard him speaking of me?  I'm called Susan Dixon。〃



Nelly coloured; and avoided meeting Susan's eye。



〃I've heard other folk speak of you。  He never named your name。〃



This respect of silence came like balm to Susan:  balm not felt or

heeded at the time it was applied; but very grateful in its effects

for all that。



〃He is at my house;〃 continued Susan; determined not to stop or

quaver in the operationthe pain which must be inflicted。



〃At your house?  Yew Nook?〃 questioned Eleanor; surprised。  〃How came

he there?〃half jealously。  〃Did he take shelter from the coming

storm?  Tell me;there is somethingtell me; woman!〃



〃He took no shelter。  Would to God he had!〃



〃O! would to God! would to God!〃 shrieked out Eleanor; learning all

from the woful import of those dreary eyes。  Her cries thrilled

through the house; the children's piping wailings and passionate

cries on 〃Daddy!  Daddy!〃 pierced into Susan's very marrow。  But she

remained as still and tearless as the great round face upon the

clock。



At last; in a lull of crying; she said;not exactly questioning; but

as if partly to herself …



〃You loved him; then?〃



〃Loved him! he was my husband!  He was the father of three bonny

bairns that lie dead in Grasmere churchyard。  I wish you'd go; Susan

Dixon; and let me weep without your watching me!  I wish you'd never

come near the place。〃



〃Alas! alas! it would not have brought him to life。  I would have

laid down my own to save his。  My life has been so very sad!  No one

would have cared if I had died。  Alas! alas!〃



The tone in which she said this was so utterly mournful and

despairing that it awed Nelly into quiet for a time。  But by…and…by

she said; 〃I would not turn a dog out

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