the heir of redclyffe-第69节
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force himself into occupation till his cousin should come to
acknowledge that here; at least; there was nothing amiss。 He trusted
that when it was proved all was right in this quarter; the prejudice
with regard to the other might be diminished; though his hopes were
lower since he had found out the real grounds of the accusation;
reflecting that he should never be able to explain without betraying
his uncle。
He waited in vain。 The hour passed at which Philip's coming was
possible; Guy was disappointed; but looked for a letter; but post after
post failed to bring him one。 Perhaps Philip would write from
Hollywell; or else Mr。 Edmonstone would write; or at least he was sure
that Charles would writeCharles; whose confidence and sympathy;
expressed in almost daily letters; had been such a comfort。 But not a
line came。 He reviewed in memory his last letter to Charles; wondering
whether it could have offended him; but it did not seem possible; he
thought over all that Philip could have learnt in his visit; to see if
it could by any means have been turned to his disadvantage。 But he
knew he had done nothing to which blame could be attached; he had never
infringed the rules of college discipline; and though still backward;
and unlikely to distinguish himself; he believed that was the worst
likely to have been said of him。 He only wished his true character was
as good as what would be reported of him。
As he thought and wondered; he grew more and more restless and unhappy。
He could imagine no reason for the silence; unless Mr。 Edmonstone had
absolutely forbidden any intercourse; and it did not seem probable that
he would issue any commands in a manner to bind a grown…up son; more
especially as there had been no attempt at communication with Amy。 It
was terrible thus; without warning; to be cut off from her; and all
besides that he loved。 As long as Charles wrote; he fancied her
sitting by; perhaps sealing the letter; and he could even tell by the
kind of paper and envelope; whether they were sitting in the dressing…
room or down…stairs; but now there was nothing; no assurance of
sympathy; no word of kindness; they might all have given him up; those
unhappy words were like a barrier; cutting him off for ever from the
happiness of which he had once had a glimpse。 Was the Redclyffe doom
of sin and sorrow really closing in upon him?
If it had not been for chapel and study; he hardly knew how he should
have got through that term; but as the end of it approached; a feverish
impatience seized on him whenever the post came in; for a letter; if
only to tell him not to come to Hollywell。 None came; and he saw
nothing for it but to go to Redclyffe; and if he dreaded seeing it in
its altered state when his spirits were high and unbroken; how did he
shrink from it now! He did; however; make up his mind; for he felt
that his reluctance almost wronged his own beloved home。 Harry Graham
wanted to persuade him to come and spend Christmas at his home; with
his lively family; but Guy felt as if gaiety was not for him; even if
he could enjoy it。 He did not wish to drown his present feelings; and
steadily; though gratefully; refused this as well as one or two other
friendly invitations。
After lingering in vain till the last day of term; he wrote to desire
that his own room and the library might be made ready for him; and that
'something' might be sent to meet him at Moorworth。
Railroads had come a step nearer; even to his remote comer of the
world; in the course of the last three years; but there was still
thirty miles of coach beyond; and these lay through a part of the
country he had never seen before。 It was for the most part bleak;
dreary moor; such as; under the cold gray wintry sky; presented nothing
to rouse him from his musings on the welcome he might have been at that
very moment receiving at Hollywell。
A sudden; dip in the high ground made it necessary for the coach to put
on the drag; and thus it slowly entered a village; which attracted
attention from its wretched appearance。 The cottages; of the rough
stone of the country; were little better than hovels; slates were torn
off; windows broken。 Wild…looking uncombed women; in garments of
universal dirt colour; stood at the doors; ragged children ran and
shrieked after the coach; the church had a hole in the roof; and stood
tottering in spite of rude repairs; the churchyard was trodden down by
cattle; and the whole place only resembled the pictures of Irish
dilapidation。
'What miserable place is this?' asked a passenger。 'Yes; that's what
all gentlemen ask;' replied the coachman; 'and well you may。 There's
not a more noted place for thieves and vagabonds。 They call it Coombe
Prior。'
Guy well knew the name; though he had never been there。 It was a
distant offset of his own property; and a horrible sense of
responsibility for all the crime and misery there came over him。
'Is there no one to look; after it?' continued the traveller。 'No
squire; no clergyman?'
'A fox…hunting parson;' answered the coachman; 'who lives half…a…dozen
miles off; and gallops over for the service。'
Guy knew that the last presentation had been sold in the days of his
grandfather's extravagance; and beheld another effect of ancestral sin。
'Do you know who is the owner of the place?'
'Yes; sir; 'tis Sir Guy Morville。 You have heard tell of the old Sir
Guy Morville; for he made a deal of noise in the world。'
'What! The noted'
'I ought not to allow you to finish your sentence;' said Guy; very
courteously; 'without telling you that I am his grandson。'
'I beg your pardon!' exclaimed the traveller。
'Nay;' said Guy; with a smile; 'I only thought it was fair to tell
you。'
'Sir Guy himself!' said the coachman; turning round; and touching his
hat; anxious to do the honours of his coach。 'I have not seen you on
this road before; sir; for I never forget a face; I hope you'll often
be this way。'
After a few more civilities; Guy was at liberty to attend to the fresh
influx of sad musings on thoughtless waste affecting not only the
destiny of the individual himself; but whole generations besides。 How
many souls might it not have ruined? 'These sheep; what had they
done!' His grandfather had repented; but who was to preach repentance
unto these? He did not wonder now that his own hopes of happiness had
been blighted; he only marvelled that a bright present or future had
ever been his
While souls were wandering far and wide;
And curses swarmed on every side。
The traveller was; meanwhile; observing the heir of Redclyffe;
possessor of wealth and wide lands。 Little did he guess how that
bright…eyed youth looked upon his riches。
Miles were passed in one long melancholy musing; till Guy was roused by
the sight of familiar scenes; and found himself rattling over the
stones of the little borough of Moorworth; with the gray; large…
windowed; old…fashioned houses; on each side; looking at him with
friendly eyes。 There; behind those limes cut out in arches; was the
commercial school; where he had spent many an hour in construing with
patient Mr。 Potts; and though he had now a juster appreciation of his
old master's erudition; which he had once thought so vast; he
recollected with veneration his long and patient submission to an
irksome; uncongenial life。 Rumbling on; the coach was in the square
market…place; the odd…looking octagon market…house in the middle; and
the innthe respectable old 'George'with its long rank of stables
and out…buildings forming one side。 It was at this inn that Guy had
been born; and the mistress having been the first person who had him in
her arms; considered herself privileged to have a great affection for
him; and had delighted in the greetings he always exchanged with her
when he put up his pony at her stable; and went to his tutor。
There was a certainty of welcome here that cheered him; as he swung
himself from the roof of the coach; lifted Bustle down; and called out
to the barmaid that he hoped Mrs。 Lavers was well。
The next moment Mrs。 Lavers was at the door herself; with her broad;
good…humoured face; close cap; bright shawl; and black gown; just as
Guy always recollected; and might; if he could; have recollected; when
he was born。 If she had any more guests she neither saw nor cared for
them; her welcome was all for him; and he could not but smile and look
cheerful; if only that he might not disappoint her; feeling; in very
truth; cheered and gratified by her cordiality。 If he was in a hurry;
he would not show it; and he allowed her to seat him in her own
peculiar abode; behind the glass…cases of tongue and cold chicken; told
her he came from Oxford; admired her good