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