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第42节

classic mystery and detective stories-第42节

小说: classic mystery and detective stories 字数: 每页4000字

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some difficulty。  It seems Stanton was now in England。



        。        。        。        。        。



About the year 1677; Stanton was in London; his mind still full of

his mysterious countryman。  This constant subject of his

contemplations had produced a visible change in his exterior;his

walk was what Sallust tells us of Catiline's;his were; too; the

〃faedi oculi。〃  He said to himself every moment; 〃If I could but

trace that being; I will not call him man;〃and the next moment he

said; 〃and what if I could?〃  In this state of mind; it is singular

enough that he mixed constantly in public amusements; but it is

true。  When one fierce passion is devouring the soul; we feel more

than ever the necessity of external excitement; and our dependence

on the world for temporary relief increases in direct proportion to

our contempt of the world and all its works。  He went frequently to

the theaters; THEN fashionable; when





     〃The fair sat panting at a courtier's play;

      And not a mask went unimproved away。〃





        。        。        。        。        。



It was that memorable night; when; according to the history of the

veteran Betterton;* Mrs。 Barry; who personated Roxana; had a green…

room squabble with Mrs。 Bowtell; the representative of Statira;

about a veil; which the partiality of the property man adjudged to

the latter。  Roxana suppressed her rage till the fifth act; when;

stabbing Statira; she aimed the blow with such force as to pierce

through her stays; and inflict a severe though not dangerous wound。

Mrs。 Bowtell fainted; the performance was suspended; and; in the

commotion which this incident caused in the house; many of the

audience rose; and Stanton among them。  It was at this moment that;

in a seat opposite to him; he discovered the object of his search

for four years;the Englishman whom he had met in the plains of

Valencia; and whom he believed the same with the subject of the

extraordinary narrative he had heard there。





* Vide Betterton's History of the Stage。





He was standing up。  There was nothing particular or remarkable in

his appearance; but the expression of his eyes could never be

mistaken or forgotten。  The heart of Stanton palpitated with

violence;a mist overspread his eye;a nameless and deadly

sickness; accompanied with a creeping sensation in every pore; from

which cold drops were gushing; announced the。 。 。 。



        。        。        。        。        。



Before he had well recovered; a strain of music; soft; solemn; and

delicious; breathed round him; audibly ascending from the ground;

and increasing in sweetness and power till it seemed to fill the

whole building。  Under the sudden impulse of amazement and

pleasure; he inquired of some around him from whence those

exquisite sounds arose。  But; by the manner in which he was

answered; it was plain that those he addressed considered him

insane; and; indeed; the remarkable change in his expression might

well justify the suspicion。  He then remembered that night in

Spain; when the same sweet and mysterious sounds were heard only by

the young bridegroom and bride; of whom the latter perished on that

very night。  〃And am I then to be the next victim?〃 thought

Stanton; 〃and are those celestial sounds; that seem to prepare us

for heaven; only intended to announce the presence of an incarnate

fiend; who mocks the devoted with 'airs from heaven;' while he

prepares to surround them with 'blasts from hell'?〃  It is very

singular that at this moment; when his imagination had reached its

highest pitch of elevation;when the object he had pursued so long

and fruitlessly; had in one moment become as it were tangible to

the grasp both of mind and body;when this spirit; with whom he

had wrestled in darkness; was at last about to declare its name;

that Stanton began to feel a kind of disappointment at the futility

of his pursuits; like Bruce at discovering the source of the Nile;

or Gibbon on concluding his History。  The feeling which he had

dwelt on so long; that he had actually converted it into a duty;

was after all mere curiosity; but what passion is more insatiable;

or more capable of giving a kind of romantic grandeur to all its

wanderings and eccentricities?  Curiosity is in one respect like

love; it always compromises between the object and the feeling; and

provided the latter possesses sufficient energy; no matter how

contemptible the former may be。  A child might have smiled at the

agitation of Stanton; caused as it was by the accidental appearance

of a stranger; but no man; in the full energy of his passions; was

there; but must have trembled at the horrible agony of emotion with

which he felt approaching; with sudden and irresistible velocity;

the crisis of his destiny。



When the play was over; he stood for some moments in the deserted

streets。  It was a beautiful moonlight night; and he saw near him a

figure; whose shadow; projected half across the street (there were

no flagged ways then; chains and posts were the only defense of the

foot passenger); appeared to him of gigantic magnitude。  He had

been so long accustomed to contend with these phantoms of the

imagination; that he took a kind of stubborn delight in subduing

them。  He walked up to the object; and observing the shadow only

was magnified; and the figure was the ordinary height of man; he

approached it; and discovered the very object of his search;the

man whom he had seen for a moment in Valencia; and; after a search

of four years; recognized at the theater。



        。        。        。        。        。



〃You were in quest of me?〃〃I was。〃  〃Have you anything to inquire

of me?〃〃Much。〃  〃Speak; then。〃〃This is no place。〃  〃No place!

poor wretch; I am independent of time and place。  Speak; if you

have anything to ask or to learn。〃〃I have many things to ask; but

nothing to learn; I hope; from you。〃  〃You deceive yourself; but

you will be undeceived when next we meet。〃〃And when shall that

be?〃 said Stanton; grasping his arm; 〃name your hour and your

place。〃  〃The hour shall be midday;〃 answered the stranger; with a

horrid and unintelligible smile; 〃and the place shall be the bare

walls of a madhouse; where you shall rise rattling in your chains;

and rustling from your straw; to greet me;yet still you shall

have THE CURSE OF SANITY; and of memory。  My voice shall ring in

your ears till then; and the glance of these eyes shall be

reflected from every object; animate or inanimate; till you behold

them again。〃〃Is it under circumstances so horrible we are to meet

again?〃 said Stanton; shrinking under the full…lighted blaze of

those demon eyes。  〃I never;〃 said the stranger; in an emphatic

tone;〃I never desert my friends in misfortune。  When they are

plunged in the lowest abyss of human calamity; they are sure to be

visited by me。〃



        。        。        。        。        。



The narrative; when Melmoth was again able to trace its

continuation; described Stanton; some years after; plunged in a

state the most deplorable。



He had been always reckoned of a singular turn of mind; and the

belief of this; aggravated by his constant talk of Melmoth; his

wild pursuit of him; his strange behavior at the theater; and his

dwelling on the various particulars of their extraordinary

meetings; with all the intensity of the deepest conviction (while

he never could impress them on any one's conviction but his own);

suggested to some prudent people the idea that he was deranged。

Their malignity probably took part with their prudence。  The

selfish Frenchman* says; we feel a pleasure even in the misfortunes

of our friends;a plus forte in those of our enemies; and as

everyone is an enemy to a man of genius of course; the report of

Stanton's malady was propagated with infernal and successful

industry。  Stanton's next relative; a needy unprincipled man;

watched the report in its circulation; and saw the snares closing

round his victim。  He waited on him one morning; accompanied by a

person of a grave; though somewhat repulsive appearance。  Stanton

was as usual abstracted and restless; and; after a few moments'

conversation; he proposed a drive a few miles out of London; which

he said would revive and refresh him。  Stanton objected; on account

of the difficulty of getting a hackney coach (for it is singular

that at this period the number of private equipages; though

infinitely fewer than they are now; exceeded the number of hired

ones); and proposed going by water。  This; however; did not suit

the kinsman's views; and; after pretending to send for a carriage

(which was in waiting at the end of the street); Stanton and his

companions entered it; and drove about two miles out of London。





* Rochefoucauld。





The carriage then stopped。  Come; Cousin;〃 said the younger

Stanton;〃come and view a purchase I have made。〃  Stanton absently

alighted; and follow

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