adam bede(亚当[1].比德)-第99节
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him to open the door。 Adam had not known before that Arthur
had furnished the old Hermitage and made it a retreat for himself；
and it was a surprise to him when he opened the door to see a
snug room with all the signs of frequent habitation。
Arthur loosed Adam’s arm and threw himself on the ottoman。
“You’ll see my hunting…bottle somewhere；” he said。 “A leather
case with a bottle and glass in。”
Adam was not long in finding the case。 “There’s very little
brandy in it； sir；” he said； turning it downwards over the glass； as
he held it before the window； “hardly this little glassful。”
“Well； give me that；” said Arthur； with the peevishness of
physical depression。 When he had taken some sips； Adam said；
“Hadn’t I better run to th’ house； sir； and get some more brandy？ I
can be there and back pretty soon。 It’ll be a stiff walk home for
you； if you don’t have something to revive you。”
“Yes—go。 But don’t say I’m ill。 Ask for my man Pym； and tell
him to get it from Mills； and not to say I’m at the Hermitage。 Get
some water too。”
Adam was relieved to have an active task—both of them were
relieved to be apart from each other for a short time。 But Adam’s
swift pace could not still the eager pain of thinking—of living again
with concentrated suffering through the last wretched hour； and
looking out from it over all the new sad future。
Arthur lay still for some minutes after Adam was gone； but
presently he rose feebly from the ottoman and peered about slowly
in the broken moonlight； seeking something。 It was a short bit of
wax candle that stood amongst a confusion of writing and drawing
materials。 There was more searching for the means of lighting the
candle； and when that was done； he went cautiously round the
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room； as if wishing to assure himself of the presence or absence of
something。 At last he had found a slight thing； which he put first in
his pocket； and then； on a second thought； took out again and
thrust deep down into a waste…paper basket。 It was a woman’s
little； pink； silk neckerchief。 He set the candle on the table； and
threw himself down on the ottoman again； exhausted with the
effort。
When Adam came back with his supplies； his entrance awoke
Arthur from a doze。
“That’s right；” Arthur said； “I’m tremendously in want of some
brandy…vigour。”
“I’m glad to see you’ve got a light； sir；” said Adam。 “I’ve been
thinking I’d better have asked for a lanthorn。”
“No； no； the candle will last long enough—I shall soon be up to
walking home now。”
“I can’t go before I’ve seen you safe home； sir；” said Adam；
hesitatingly。
“No： it will be better for you to stay—sit down。”
Adam sat down； and they remained opposite to each other in
uneasy silence； while Arthur slowly drank brandy…and…water； with
visibly renovating effect。 He began to lie in a more voluntary
position； and looked as if he were less overpowered by bodily
sensations。 Adam was keenly alive to these indications； and as his
anxiety about Arthur’s condition began to be allayed； he felt more
of that impatience which every one knows who has had his just
indignation suspended by the physical state of the culprit。 Yet
there was one thing on his mind to be done before he could recur
to remonstrance： it was to confess what had been unjust in his
own words。 Perhaps he longed all the more to make this
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confession； that his indignation might be free again； and as he saw
the signs of returning ease in Arthur； the words again and again
came to his lips and went back； checked by the thought that it
would be better to leave everything till to…morrow。 As long as they
were silent they did not look at each other； and a foreboding came
across Adam that if they began to speak as though they
remembered the past—if they looked at each other with full
recognition—they must take fire again。 So they sat in silence till
the bit of wax candle flickered low in the socket； the silence all the
while becoming more irksome to Adam。 Arthur had just poured
out some more brandy…and…water； and he threw one arm behind
his head and drew up one leg in an attitude of recovered ease；
which was an irresistible temptation to Adam to speak what was
on his mind。
“You begin to feel more yourself again； sir；” he said； as the
candle went out and they were half…hidden from each other in the
faint moonlight。
“Yes： I don’t feel good for much—very lazy； and not inclined to
move； but I’ll go home when I’ve taken this dose。”
There was a slight pause before Adam said； “My temper got the
better of me； and I said things as wasn’t true。 I’d no right to speak
as if you’d known you was doing me an injury： you’d no grounds
for knowing it； I’ve always kept what I felt for her as secret as I
could。”
He paused again before he went on。
“And perhaps I judged you too harsh—I’m apt to be harsh—and
you may have acted out o’ thoughtlessness more than I should ha’
believed was possible for a man with a heart and a conscience。
We’re not all put together alike； and we may misjudge one
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another。 God knows； it’s all the joy I could have now； to think the
best of you。”
Arthur wanted to go home without saying any more—he was
too painfully embarrassed in mind； as well as too weak in body； to
wish for any further explanation to…night。 And yet it was a relief to
him that Adam reopened the subject in a way the least difficult for
him to answer。 Arthur was in the wretched position of an open；
generous man who has committed an error which makes
deception seem a necessity。 The native impulse to give truth in
return for truth； to meet trust with frank confession； must be
suppressed； and duty was becoming a question of tactics。 His deed
was reacting upon him—was already governing him tyrannously
and forcing him into a course that jarred with his habitual feelings。
The only aim that seemed admissible to him now was to deceive
Adam to the utmost： to make Adam think better of him than he
deserved。 And when he heard the words of honest retractation—
when he heard the sad appeal with which Adam ended—he was
obliged to rejoice in the remains of ignorant confidence it implied。
He did not answer immediately； for he had to be judicious and not
truthful。
“Say no more about our anger； Adam；” he said； at last； very
languidly； for the labour of speech was unwelcome to him； “I
forgive your momentary injustice—it was quite natural； with the
exaggerated notions you had in your mind。 We shall be none the
worse friends in future； I hope； because we’ve fought。 You had the
best of it； and that was as it should be； for I believe I’ve been most
in the wrong of the two。 Come； let us shake hands。”
Arthur held out his hand； but Adam sat still。
“I don’t like to say ‘No’ to that； sir；” he said； “but I can’t shake
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