the professor at the breakfast table-第37节

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sagacious　idea　of　finding　out　the　girl's　fancies　by　looking　into　her

locked　drawing…book。



Not　to　give　up　all　the　questions　I　was　determined　to　solve；　I　made

an　attempt　also　to　work　into　the　Little　Gentleman's　chamber。　　For

this　purpose；　I　kept　him　in　conversation；　one　morning；　until　he　was

just　ready　to　go　up…stairs；　and　then；　as　if　to　continue　the　talk；

followed　him　as　he　toiled　back　to　his　room。　　He　rested　on　the

landing　and　faced　round　toward　me。　　There　was　something　in　his　eye

which　said；　Stop　there！　　So　we　finished　our　conversation　on　the

landing。　　The　next　day；　I　mustered　assurance　enough　to　knock　at　his

door；　having　a　pretext　ready。　No　answer。　Knock　again。　　A　door；

as　if　of　a　cabinet；　was　shut　softly　and　locked；　and　presently　I

heard　the　peculiar　dead　beat　of　his　thick…soled；　misshapen　boots。

The　bolts　and　the　lock　of　the　inner　door　were　unfastened；with

unnecessary　noise；　I　thought；and　he　came　into　the　passage。　　He

pulled　the　inner　door　after　him　and　opened　the　outer　one　at　which　I

stood。　　He　had　on　a　flowered　silk　dressing…gown；　such　as

〃Mr。　Copley〃　used　to　paint　his　old…fashioned　merchant…princes　in；

and　a　quaint…looking　key　in　his　hand。　　Our　conversation　was　short；

but　long　enough　to　convince　me　that　the　Little　Gentleman　did　not

want　my　company　in　his　chamber；　and　did　not　mean　to　have　it。



I　have　been　making　a　great　fuss　about　what　is　no　mystery　at　all；a

schoolgirl's　secrets　and　a　whimsical　man's　habits。　　I　mean　to　give

up　such　nonsense　and　mind　my　own　business。　Hark！　　What　the　deuse

is　that　odd　noise　in　his　chamber？



I　think　I　am　a　little　superstitious。　　There　were　two　things；　when

I　was　a　boy；　that　diabolized　my　imagination；I　mean；　that　gave　me　a

distinct　apprehension　of　a　formidable　bodily　shape　which　prowled

round　the　neighborhood　where　I　was　born　and　bred。　　The　first　was　a

series　of　marks　called　the　〃Devil's　footsteps。〃　　These　were　patches

of　sand　in　the　pastures；　where　no　grass　grew；　where　the　low…bush

blackberry；　the　〃dewberry；〃　as　our　Southern　neighbors　call　it；　in

prettier　and　more　Shakspearian　language；　did　not　spread　its　clinging

creepers；where　even　the　pale；　dry；　sadly…sweet　〃everlasting〃　could

not　grow；　but　all　was　bare　and　blasted。　　The　second　was　a　mark　in

one　of　the　public　buildings　near　my　home；the　college　dormitory

named　after　a　Colonial　Governor。　　I　do　not　think　many　persons　are

aware　of　the　existence　of　this　mark；little　having　been　said　about

the　story　in　print；　as　it　was　considered　very　desirable；　for　the

sake　of　the　Institution；　to　hush　it　up。　　In　the　northwest　corner；

and　on　the　level　of　the　third　or　fourth　story；　there　are　signs　of　a

breach　in　the　walls；　mended　pretty　well；　but　not　to　be　mistaken。　　A

considerable　portion　of　that　corner　must　have　been　carried　away；

from　within　outward。　　It　was　an　unpleasant　affair；　and　I　do　not　care

to　repeat　the　particulars；　but　some　young　men　had　been　using　sacred

things　in　a　profane　and　unlawful　way；　when　the　occurrence；　which　was

variously　explained；　took　place。　　The　story　of　the　Appearance　in　the

chamber　was；　I　suppose；　invented　afterwards；　but　of　the　injury　to

the　building　there　could　be　no　question；　and　the　zig…zag　line；　where

the　mortar　is　a　little　thicker　than　before；　is　still　distinctly

visible。　　The　queer　burnt　spots；　called　the　〃Devil's　footsteps；〃　had

never　attracted　attention　before　this　time；　though　there　is　no

evidence　that　they　had　not　existed　previously；　except　that　of　the

late　Miss　M。；　a　〃Goody；〃　so　called；　or　sweeper；　who　was　positive　on

the　subject；　but　had　a　strange　horror　of　referring　to　an　affair　of

which　she　was　thought　to　know　something。　I　tell　you　it　was　not　so

pleasant　for　a　little　boy　of　impressible　nature　to　go　up　to　bed　in

an　old　gambrel…roofed　house；　with　untenanted；　locked　upper…chambers；

and　a　most　ghostly　garret；with　the　〃Devil's　footsteps〃　in　the

fields　behind　the　house　and　in　front　of　it　the　patched　dormitory

where　the　unexplained　occurrence　had　taken　place　which　startled

those　godless　youths　at　their　mock　devotions；　so　that　one　of　them

was　epileptic　from　that　day　forward；　and　another；　after　a　dreadful

season　of　mental　conflict；　took　holy　orders　and　became　renowned　for

his　ascetic　sanctity。



There　were　other　circumstances　that　kept　up　the　impression　produced

by　these　two　singular　facts　I　have　just　mentioned。　　There　was　a　dark

storeroom；　on　looking　through　the　key…hole　of　which；　I　could　dimly

see　a　heap　of　chairs　and　tables；　and　other　four…footed　things；　which

seemed　to　me　to　have　rushed　in　there；　frightened；　and　in　their

fright　to　have　huddled　together　and　climbed　up　on　each　other's

backs；as　the　people　did　in　that　awful　crush　where　so　many　were

killed；　at　the　execution　of　Holloway　and　Haggerty。　　Then　the　Lady's

portrait；　up…stairs；　with　the　sword…thrusts　through　it；marks　of

the　British　officers'　rapiers；and　the　tall　mirror　in　which　they

used　to　look　at　their　red　coats；confound　them　for　smashing　its

mate？and　the　deep；　cunningly　wrought　arm…chair　in　which　Lord　Percy

used　to　sit　while　his　hair　was　dressing；he　was　a　gentleman；　and

always　had　it　covered　with　a　large　peignoir；　to　save　the　silk

covering　my　grandmother　embroidered。　　Then　the　little　room

downstairs　from　which　went　the　orders　to　throw　up　a　bank　of　earth　on

the　hill　yonder；　where　you　may　now　observe　a　granite　obelisk；〃the

study〃　in　my　father's　time；　but　in　those　days　the　council…chamber　of

armed　men；sometimes　filled　with　soldiers；　come　with　me；　and　I　will

show　you　the　〃dents〃　left　by　the　butts　of　their　muskets　all　over　the

floor。　　With　all　these　suggestive　objects　round　me；　aided　by　the

wild　stories　those　awful　country…boys　that　came　to　live　in　our

service　brought　with　them；of　contracts　written　in　blood　and　left

out　over　night；　not　to　be　found　the　next　morning；　（removed　by　the

Evil　One；　who　takes　his　nightly　round　among　our　dwellings；　and　filed

away　for　future　use；）of　dreams　coming　true；of　death…signs；of

apparitions；　no　wonder　that　my　imagination　got　excited；　and　I　was

liable　to　superstitious　fancies。



Jeremy　Bentham's　logic；　by　which　he　proved　that　he　couldn't　possibly

see　a　ghost　is　all　very　well…in　the　day…time。　　All　the　reason　in　the

world　will　never　get　those　impressions　of　childhood；　created　by　just

such　circumstances　as　I　have　been　telling；　out　of　a　man's　head。

That　is　the　only　excuse　I　have　to　give　for　the　nervous　kind　of

curiosity　with　which　I　watch　my　little　neighbor；　and　the　obstinacy

with　which　I　lie　awake　whenever　I　hear　anything　going　on　in　his

chamber　after　midnight。



But　whatever　further　observations　I　may　have　made　must　be　deferred

for　the　present。　　You　will　see　in　what　way　it　happened　that　my

thoughts　were　turned　from　spiritual　matters　to　bodily　ones；　and　how

I　got　my　fancy　full　of　material　images；faces；　heads；　figures；

muscles；　and　so　forth；in　such　a　way　that　I　should　have　no　chance

in　this　number　to　gratify　any　curiosity　you　may　feel；　if　I　had　the

means　of　so　doing。



Indeed；　I　have　come　pretty　near　omitting　my　periodical　record　this

time。　　It　was　all　the　work　of　a　friend　of　mine；　who　would　have　it

that　I　should　sit　to　him　for　my　portrait。　　When　a　soul　draws　a　body

in　the　great　lottery　of　life；　where　every　one　is　sure　of　a　prize；

such　as　it　is；　the　said　soul　inspects　the　said　body　with　the　same

curious　interest　with　which　one　who　has　ventured　into　a　〃gift

enterprise〃　examines　the　〃massive　silver　pencil…case〃　with　the

coppery　smell　and　impressible　tube；　or　the　〃splendid　gold　ring〃　with

the　questionable　specific　gravity；　which　it　has　been　his　fortune　to

obtain　in　addition　to　his　purchase。



The　soul；　having　studied　the　article　of　which　it　finds　itself

proprietor；　thinks；　after　a　time；　it　knows　it　pretty　well。　　But

there　is　this　difference　between　its　view　and　that　of　a　person

looking　at　us：we　look　from　within；　and　see　nothing　but　the　mould

formed　by　the　elements　in　which　we　are　incased；　other　observers　look

from　without；　and　see　us　as　living　statues。　　To　be　sure；　by　the　aid

of　mirrors；　we　get　a　few　glimpses　of　our　outside　aspect；　but　this

occasional　impression　is　always　modified　by　that　look　of　the　soul

from　within　outward　which　none　but　ourselves　can　take。　　A　portrait

is　apt；　therefore；　to　be　a　surprise　to　us。　　The　artist　looks　only

from　without。　　He　sees　us；　too；　with　a　hundred　aspects　on　our　faces

we　are　never　likely　to　see。　　No　genuine　expression　can　be　studied　by

the　subject　of　it　in　the　looking…glass。



More　than　this；　he　sees　us　in　a　way　in　which　many　of　our　friends　or

acquaintances　never　see　us。　　Without　wearing　any　mask　we　are

conscious　of；　we　have　a　special　face　for　each　friend。　　For；　in　the

first　place；　each　puts　a　special　reflection　of　himself　upon　us；　on

the　principle　of　assimilation　you　found　referred　to　in　my　last

record；　if　you　happened　to　read　that　document。　　And　secondly；　each

of　our　friends　is　capable　of　seeing　just　so　far；　and　no　farther；

into　our　face；　and　each　sees　in　it　the　particular　thing　that　he

looks