malbone- an oldport romance[1].(马尔布恩)-第30节
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MALBONE： AN OLDPORT ROMANCE。
She threw herself on her knees at the bedside。
Still Emilia slept； but now she stirred her head in the slightest possible
way； so that a single tress of silken hair slipped from its companions； and
lay across her face。 It was a faint sign that the trance was waning； the
slight pressure disturbed her nerves； and her lips trembled once or twice；
as if to relieve themselves of the soft annoyance。 Hope watched her in a
vague； distant way； took note of the minutest motion； yet as if some vast
weight hung upon her own limbs and made all interference impossible。
Still there was a fascination of sympathy in dwelling on that atom of
discomfort； that tiny suffering； which she alone could remove。 The very
vastness of this tragedy that hung about the house made it an inexpressible
relief to her to turn and concentrate her thoughts for a moment on this
slight distress； so easily ended。
Strange； by what slender threads our lives are knitted to each other！
Here was one who had taken Hope's whole existence in her hands； crushed
it； and thrown it away。 Hope had soberly said to herself； just before； that
death would be better than life for her young sister。 Yet now it moved her
beyond endurance to see that fair form troubled； even while unconscious；
by a feather's weight of pain； and all the lifelong habit of tenderness
resumed in a moment its sway。
She approached her fingers to the offending tress； very slowly； half
withholding them at the very last； as if the touch would burn her。 She was
almost surprised that it did not。 She looked to see if it did not hurt Emilia。
But it now seemed as if the slumbering girl enjoyed the caressing contact
of the smooth fingers； and turned her head； almost imperceptibly； to meet
them。 This was more than Hope could bear。 It was as if that slight
motion were a puncture to relieve her overburdened heart； a thousand
thoughts swept over her；of their father； of her sister's childhood； of her
years of absent expectation； she thought how young the girl was； how
fascinating； how passionate； how tempted； all this swept across her in a
great wave of nervous reaction； and when Emilia returned to
consciousness； she was lying in her sister's arms； her face bathed in Hope's
tears。
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MALBONE： AN OLDPORT ROMANCE。
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MALBONE： AN OLDPORT ROMANCE。
CHAPTER XIX。
DE PROFUNDIS。
THIS was the history of Emilia's concealed visits to Malbone。
One week after her marriage； in a crisis of agony； Emilia took up her
pen； dipped it in fire； and wrote thus to him：
〃Philip Malbone； why did nobody ever tell me what marriage is where
there is no love？ This man who calls himself my husband is no worse； I
suppose； than other men。 It is only for being what is called by that name
that I abhor him。 Good God！ what am I to do？ It was not for money that
I married him；that you know very well； I cared no more for his money
than for himself。 I thought it was the only way to save Hope。 She has
been very good to me； and perhaps I should love her； if I could love
anybody。 Now I have done what will only make more misery； for I cannot
bear it。 Philip； I am alone in this wide world； except for you。 Tell me
what to do。 I will haunt you till you die； unless you tell me。 Answer this；
or I will write again。〃
Terrified by this letter； absolutely powerless to guide the life with
which he had so desperately entangled himself； Philip let one day pass
without answering； and that evening he found Emilia at his door； she
having glided unnoticed up the main stairway。 She was so excited； it was
equally dangerous to send her away or to admit her； and he drew her in；
darkening the windows and locking the door。 On the whole； it was not so
bad as he expected； at least； there was less violence and more despair。 She
covered her face with her hands； and writhed in anguish； when she said
that she had utterly degraded herself by this loveless marriage。 She
scarcely mentioned her husband。 She made no complaint of him； and even
spoke of him as generous。 It seemed as if this made it worse； and as if she
would be happier if she could expend herself in hating him。 She spoke of
him rather as a mere witness to some shame for which she herself was
responsible； bearing him no malice； but tortured by the thought that he
should exist。
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MALBONE： AN OLDPORT ROMANCE。
Then she turned on Malbone。 〃Philip； why did you ever interfere
with my life？ I should have been very happy with Antoine if you had let
me marry him； for I never should have known what it was to love you。
Oh！ I wish he were here now； even he；any one who loved me truly； and
whom I could love only a little。 I would go away with such a person
anywhere； and never trouble you and Hope any more。 What shall I do？
Philip； you might tell me what to do。 Once you told me always to come to
you。〃
〃What can you do？〃 he asked gloomily； in return。
〃I cannot imagine；〃 she said； with a desolate look； more pitiable than
passion； on her young face。 〃I wish to save Hope； and to save myto
save Mr。 Lambert。 Philip； you do not love me。 I do not call it love。
There is no passion in your veins； it is only a sort of sympathetic
selfishness。 Hope is infinitely better than you are； and I believe she is
more capable of loving。 I began by hating her； but if she loves you as I
think she does； she has treated me more generously than ever one woman
treated another。 For she could not look at me and not know that I loved
you。 I did love you。 O Philip； tell me what to do！〃
Such beauty in anguish； the thrill of the possession of such love； the
possibility of soothing by tenderness the wild mood which he could not
meet by counsel；it would have taken a stronger or less sympathetic
nature than Malbone's to endure all this。 It swept him away； this revival of
passion was irresistible。 When her pent…up feeling was once uttered； she
turned to his love as a fancied salvation。 It was a terrible remedy。 She
had never looked more beautiful； and yet she seemed to have grown old at
once； her very caresses appeared to burn。 She lingered and lingered； and
still he kept her there； and when it was no longer possible for her to go
without disturbing the house； he led her to a secret spiral stairway； which
went from attic to cellar of that stately old mansion； and which opened by
one or more doors on each landing； as his keen eye had found out。
Descending this； he went forth with her into the dark and silent night。 The
mist hung around the house； the wet leaves fluttered and fell upon their
cheeks； the water lapped desolately against the pier。 Philip found a
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MALBONE： AN OLDPORT ROMANCE。
carriage and sent her back to Mrs。 Meredith's； where she was staying
during the brief absence of John Lambert。
These concealed meetings； once begun； became an absorbing
excitement。 She came several times； staying half an hour； an hour； two
hours。 They were together long enough for suffering； never long enough
for soothing。 It was a poor substitute for happiness。 Each time she
came； Malbone wished that she might never go or never return。 His warier
nature was feverish with solicitude and with self…reproach； he liked the
excitement of slight risks； but this was far too intense； the vibrations too
extreme。 She； on the other hand； rode t
