白衣女人

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京权图字01-2006-3289


Originally published by Oxford University Press, Great Clarendon Street, Oxford. © 2002

This edition is licensed for sale in the People's Republic of China only and not for export therefrom.

'Oxford' is a registered trademark of Oxford University Press.

只限中华人民共和国境内销售,不包括香港特别行政区、澳门特别行政区及台湾省。不得出口。


图书在版编目(CIP)数据


白衣女人 = The Woman in White/(英)柯林斯(Collins, W.)著;(英)刘易斯(Lewis, R. G. )改写;王世庆译.—北京:外语教学与研究出版社,2006.4(2014.11 重印)

(书虫·牛津英汉双语读物)

ISBN 978-7-5600-5458-2


Ⅰ.白… Ⅱ.①柯…②刘…③王… Ⅲ.①英语—汉语—对照读物②长篇小说—英国—现代 Ⅳ.H319.4:I


中国版本图书馆CIP数据核字(2006)第024274号


出版人: 蔡剑峰

责任编辑:周 晶

封面设计:孙莉明

出版发行:外语教学与研究出版社

社  址:北京市西三环北路19号(100089)

网  址:http://www.fltrp.com

版  次:2008年6月第2版

书  号:ISBN 978-7-5600-5458-2

*  *  *

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内容简介

内容简介

一个突然出现的白衣女人孤独地伫立在月下的荒野中。沃尔特·哈特里特一开始被她吓了一跳,但后来发现她非常害怕,头脑也不清楚,需要他的帮助。他温和有礼地同她交谈,陪她走了一段路,指给她前面应该怎么走。很快,她就又消失在了夜色里。

这次偶遇拉开了一连串事件的序幕,也把沃尔特、玛丽安以及她同母异父的妹妹劳拉、珀西瓦尔爵士和他的意大利朋友福斯科伯爵扯进一个似是而非的谜团之中。而谜团的核心就是那个悲伤孤独的白衣女人——她的生活、她的过去,还有她急于在死前揭开的秘密。

这是一个有关贪婪与邪恶、无辜与背叛、身份混淆与无情欺骗的故事。这也是一个爱情故事——爱情的开始是伤心和痛苦,好像没有任何出路,更没有任何希望和将来。但是,爱情不会轻易灭亡;它能够战胜离别与绝望,甚至死亡……

THE WOMAN IN WHITE

THE WOMAN IN WHITE

She appears out of nowhere, a woman dressed all in white, standing in the moonlight on the lonely heath. Walter Hartright is at first alarmed, but then sees that she is frightened and confused, and needs his help. He speaks kindly to her, walks with her to show her the right road, and soon she disappears into the night again.


This strange meeting begins a chain of events that bring together Walter, Marian and her half-sister Laura, Sir Percival and his Italian friend Count Fosco in a mystery in which nothing is as it seems. And at the heart of the mystery is the sad, lonely figure of the woman in white — her life, her history, and the secret that she is desperate to reveal before she dies.


It is a story of greed and evil, innocence and betrayal, confused identities and cruel deceptions. And also love — a love that begins with heartbreak and misery, where there seems no way forward, no hope for the future. But love does not die easily; it can survive separation, and despair, and even death itself...

目录

PART ONE—THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT 第一部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

PART ONE
THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
第一部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

1
A meeting by moonlight

It was the last day of July. The long hot summer was coming to an end, and I was feeling ill and depressed. I was also short of money, so I had little chance of escaping from the dusty London streets, and would have to spend the autumn economically between my rooms in the city and my mother's house.

My mother and my sister, Sarah, lived in a cottage in Hampstead, in the northern suburbs, and I usually went to see them twice a week. This evening I arrived at the gate of the cottage just as it was starting to get dark. I had hardly rung the bell before the door was opened violently, and my Italian friend, Professor Pesca, rushed out to greet me.

Pesca was a language teacher who had left Italy for political reasons and had made his home in England. He was a strange, excitable little man, who was always trying to be more English than the English. I had met him from time to time when he was teaching in the same houses as I was, and then one day I met him by chance in Brighton. We agreed to go for a swim together in the sea. He was very enthusiastic and it never for a moment occurred to me that he did not know how to swim! Fortunately, when he suddenly sank to the bottom, I was able to dive down and save him. From that day on he was my grateful friend, and that evening he showed his gratitude to me in a way that changed my whole life.

'Now, my good friends,' he said, when we were all in my mother's sitting-room. 'I have some wonderful news for you. I have been asked by my employer to recommend a drawing teacher for a post with a rich family in the north of England. And who do you think I have recommended? The best drawing teacher in the world — Mr Walter Hartright!'

'My dear Pesca! How good you are to Walter!' exclaimed my mother. 'How kind, how generous you are!'

As for myself, although I was certainly grateful for his kindness, I still felt strangely depressed. I thanked him warmly, however, and asked to see the conditions. The note he gave me said that a qualified drawing teacher was wanted by Mr Frederick Fairlie of Limmeridge House, Cumberland, to teach his two young nieces for a period of at least four months. The teacher was to live at Limmeridge House as a gentleman and receive four pounds a week. Letters to show he was of good character would be required.

The position was certainly an attractive one, and I could not understand why I felt so little enthusiasm for it. However, since my mother and sister thought it was a great opportunity, and I had no wish to hurt Pesca's feelings, I agreed to apply for the job.

The next morning I sent my letters of recommendation to the Professor's employer, and four days later I heard that Mr Fairlie accepted my services and requested me to start for Cumberland immediately. I arranged to leave the next day, and in the evening I walked to Hampstead to say goodbye to my mother and Sarah.

When I left them at midnight, a full moon was shining in a dark blue, starless sky, and the air was soft and warm. I decided to take the long route home, and walk across Hampstead Heath before joining the road into the centre of the city. After a while I came to a crossroads and turned onto the London road. I was lost in my own thoughts, wondering about the two young ladies in Cumberland, when suddenly, my heart seemed to stop beating. A hand had touched my shoulder from behind.

I turned at once, my hand tightening on my walking stick.

There, as if it had dropped from the sky, stood the figure of a woman, dressed from head to foot in white clothes. I was too surprised to speak.

'Is that the road into London?' she said.

I looked at her carefully. It was then nearly one o'clock. All I could see in the moonlight was a young colourless face, large sad eyes, and light brown hair. Her manner was quiet and self-controlled. What sort of woman she was, and why she was out so late alone, I could not guess. But there was nothing evil about her — indeed, a kind of sad innocence seemed to come from her.

'Did you hear me?' she said, quietly and rapidly.

'Yes,' I replied, 'that's the road. Please excuse me — I was rather surprised by your sudden appearance.'

'You don't suspect me of doing anything wrong, do you?'

'No, no, seeing you so suddenly gave me a shock, that's all.'

'I heard you coming,' she said, 'and hid behind those trees to see what sort of man you were, before I risked speaking. May I trust you?' Her eyes searched my face, anxiously.

Her loneliness and helplessness were so obvious that I felt great sympathy for her. 'Tell me how I can help you,' I said, 'and if I can, I will.'

'Oh, thank you, thank you. You are very kind.' Her voice trembled a little as she spoke. 'I don't know London at all. Can I get a cab or a carriage at this time of night? Could you show me where to get one, and will you promise not to interfere with me? I have a friend in London who will be glad to receive me. I want nothing else — will you promise?'

She looked nervously up and down the road, then back at me.

How could I refuse? Her fear and confusion were painful to see.

'Will you promise?' she repeated.

'Yes.'

We set off together towards the centre of London. It was like a dream — walking along that familiar road, with so strange and so mysterious a companion at my side.

'Do you know any men of the rank of Baronet in London?' she asked suddenly.

There was a note of suspicion in the strange question, and when I said I knew no Baronets, she seemed relieved. I questioned her further, and she murmured that she had been cruelly used by a Baronet she would not name. She told me she came from Hampshire and asked if I lived in London. I explained that I did, but that I was leaving for Cumberland the next day.

'Cumberland!' she repeated softly. 'Ah! I wish I was going there too. I was once happy in Cumberland, in Limmeridge village. I'd like to see Limmeridge House again.'

Limmeridge House! I stopped, amazed.

'What's wrong?' she asked anxiously. 'Did you hear anybody calling after us?'

'No, no. It's just that I heard the name of Limmeridge House very recently. Do you know somebody there?'

'I did once,' she said. 'But Mrs Fairlie is dead; and her husband is dead; and their little girl may be married and gone away...'

Perhaps she would have told me more, but just at that moment we saw a cab. I stopped it, and she quickly got in.

'Please,' I said, 'let me see you safely to your friend's house.'

'No, no,' she cried. 'I'm quite safe, and you must let me go. Remember your promise! But thank you — oh! thank you.'

She caught my hand in hers, kissed it, and pushed it away. The cab disappeared into the black shadows on the road — and the woman in white had gone.

Ten minutes later I was still on the same road, thinking uneasily about the whole adventure, when I heard wheels behind me. An open carriage with two men in it passed me, then stopped when they saw a policeman walking further down the street.

'Officer!' cried one of the men. 'Have you seen a woman pass this way? A woman in white clothes?'

'No, sir. Why? What has she done?'

'Done! She has escaped from my asylum.'

An asylum! But the woman had not seemed mad to me. Nervous, and a little strange, perhaps, but not mad. What had I done? Had I helped a woman wrongly imprisoned to escape? Or had I failed to protect a sick person who might come to harm? These disturbing thoughts kept me awake all night after I had got back to my rooms, until at last it was time to leave London and set out for Cumberland.

*  *  *

My travelling instructions directed me to Carlisle and then to change trains for Limmeridge. However, because of a long delay I missed my connection and did not get to Limmeridge till past ten. A servant in rather a bad temper was waiting for me at the station with a carriage and when I arrived at Limmeridge House everyone had gone to bed. I was shown to my room and when I at last put out the candle, I thought to myself, 'What shall I see in my dreams tonight? The woman in white? Or the unknown inhabitants of this Cumberland house?'


depressed adj. dispirited or miserable 无精打采的

economically adv. sparing in the use of resources 节俭地

violently adv. using aggressive physical force 用力地

gratitude n. a feeling of being grateful to someone because they have given you something or done something for you 感激之情;知恩图报之心

recommend v. suggest as fit for some purpose or use 推荐

exclaim v. cry out suddenly esp. in anger, surprise, pain etc. (出于气愤、惊讶、痛苦等)大喊;惊叫

character n. the collective qualities that distinguish a person or thing 特点;品行

apply for make a formal request for something to be done, given etc. 申请

be lost in be engrossed in 全神贯注于……

tighten v. make or become tight or tighter 握紧;攥紧

colourless adj. without colour 没有颜色的

suspect v. be inclined to accuse mentally 怀疑

shock n. a sudden disturbing effect 震惊;吃惊

companion n. a person who accompanies another 伙伴

baronet n. member of lowest British hereditary titled order 准男爵

relieved adj. freed from anxiety or distress 松了一口气

murmur v. utter in a low voice 低声说

adventure n. an unusual and exciting experience 不同寻常又令人兴奋的经历

asylum n. institution offering shelter and support to the mentally ill 精神病院

imprison v. put into prison 囚禁

inhabitant n. one who lives in a place 居住者

1.月下邂逅

那是7月的最后一天。漫长、炎热的夏季已经接近尾声,但我觉得身体不太舒服,心情也有些压抑。我没什么钱,不大可能离开尘土飞扬的伦敦,只得在伦敦的住处和母亲的家中将就这个秋天了。

母亲和妹妹萨拉住在伦敦北郊汉普斯特德的一所小房子里,我每星期会去看她们两次。今天我到那里的时候,天已经快黑了。刚一按门铃,我的意大利朋友,佩斯卡教授就用力打开了门,箭步冲出来迎接我。

佩斯卡由于政治原因从意大利来到英国,在这里做语言教师,安顿了下来。他个头不高,性格古怪而天真,极力表现出比英国人还地道的英国做派。我曾经和他在几个家庭里同为家庭教师,所以经常见面。有一天,我在布赖顿碰到他,两人说好一同到海滨游泳。他当时非常兴奋,我根本没想到他竟然不会游泳!幸好他突然沉下去的时候,我潜进水里把他救了上来。从那以后,他对我感激不尽,我们成了朋友,而这天晚上他的感恩之举改变了我的一生。

大家齐聚客厅时,他说:“嘿,朋友们,我有一个好消息要告诉你们。我的东家让我为英格兰北部一个富有的人家推荐一名绘画教师。你们猜我推荐了谁?我推荐的是世界上最好的绘画教师——沃尔特·哈特里特先生!”

“亲爱的佩斯卡,你对沃尔特真是太好了!”母亲说道。“你真是好心又慷慨!”

我本人也很感激他的好意,但是总觉得有一种莫名的不安。不过我还是热情地跟他道谢,向他打听一些具体情况。他给我的条子上说坎伯兰郡利默里奇庄园的弗雷德里克·费尔利先生要聘请一位优秀的绘画教师,教他的两个侄女画画,聘期至少四个月。受聘教师将住在利默里奇庄园,薪水是一星期4英镑。应聘教师必须出具品行良好的证明信。

这的确是一份令人心动的工作,但不知为什么我就是兴奋不起来。不管怎样,既然母亲和妹妹都认为这是个好机会,我也不愿伤害佩斯卡的感情,于是我答应应聘。

转天早晨,我把推荐信寄给佩斯卡的雇主,四天之后传来消息说,费尔利先生接受了我的应聘,要我立即动身前往坎伯兰郡。我做好了第二天动身的准备,晚上步行到汉普斯特德向母亲和妹妹道别。

离开她们已是子夜时分,深蓝的天空满月高悬,看不见一颗星星,空气温暖宜人。我决定走那条稍远一点儿的路回家,先穿过汉普斯特德荒地,再走通往市中心的那条路。不一会儿,我来到十字路口,踏上了通向伦敦的大路。我满脑子在想着坎伯兰郡两位小姐的事,突然一只手从后面拍了拍我的肩膀,吓得我心跳都快停止了。

我猛地转过身,攥紧了手杖。

我眼前站着一个白衣女人,仿佛从天而降。我惊得一句话也说不出来。

“那条路是去伦敦的吗?”那女人开口问道。

我仔细打量着她。这时已将近凌晨1点了。借着月光我只能看出一张年轻却没有血色的脸,一对哀伤的大眼睛和淡棕色的头发。她看上去镇定自若。我猜不出她是个什么样的女人,这么晚了为什么孤身一人在外面。可是她看上去没有恶意,实际上还流露出一丝哀伤和纯真。

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“你听见我说话了吗?”她很快地轻声说。

“是的,”我赶忙回答,“是那条路。请原谅,你出现得太突然,吓了我一跳。”

“你不会怀疑我在做什么坏事吧?”

“不,不是。只不过突然看到你,吓了一跳。”

“我听到你走过来,”她说,“就先躲在树后看你是什么样的人,然后才敢同你说话的。我能信赖你吗?”她不安地看着我的脸。

她看起来实在是非常孤独和无助,这大大地激起了我的同情。“说吧,我能为你做什么,”我说,“只要我能做的,一定帮忙。”

“哦,谢谢,谢谢。你真是个好人。”她的声音有些颤抖,“我对伦敦一无所知,这时候还有出租马车吗?你能告诉我哪里能找辆车吗?你能保证不要多问吗?我在伦敦有朋友,她会帮我的,就是这样——你能保证吗?”

她神色紧张地朝大路张望,然后又回头看我。

我怎么能够拒绝呢?她紧张而慌乱的样子令人不安。

“你能保证吗?”她再一次问。

“我保证。”

我们一起朝伦敦市中心走去。这真像是一场梦——走在熟悉的路上,身旁多了一位陌生、神秘的同路人。

“你认识伦敦有准男爵爵位的人吗?”她突然问我。

从这个奇怪的问题可以看出她对我还是有所怀疑,当我告诉她我一个准男爵也不认识时,她似乎才松了一口气。我进一步追问,她低声告诉我一个准男爵害过她,她不愿说出他的名字。她说她从汉普郡来,问我是否住在伦敦。我告诉她我是住在伦敦,但天一亮就要去坎伯兰郡了。

“坎伯兰郡!”她轻声重复着,“啊,我要是也能去那儿就好了。我曾在坎伯兰郡的利默里奇村度过一段快乐的时光,真想再看一看利默里奇庄园。”

利默里奇庄园!我停住脚步,感到很惊讶。

“怎么啦?”她急切地问,“你听到我们后面有人在喊吗?”

“不,不是。因为我最近听说过利默里奇庄园,你认识那里的什么人吗?”

“以前认识,”她回答,“不过费尔利夫人已经死了,她丈夫也死了,他们的小女儿可能已经结婚离开了那里。”

若不是看见一辆出租马车,她也许会告诉我更多的事情。我叫住马车,她很快上了车。

我说:“还是让我把你平平安安地送到朋友家吧。”

“不,不,”她大声说,“我现在很安全,你就让我自己走吧。你答应过我的!谢谢你,谢谢。”

她抓住我的手,吻了一下,然后推开。马车的影子消失在夜幕中的大路上——白衣女人也不见了。

十分钟后,我还走在同一条路上,回想着刚才发生的怪事,忽然身后传来车轮的声音。两个人坐着敞篷马车从我身边经过,他们看见路上有个警察在巡逻,就停下车来。

“警官!”一个人说,“你看没看见一个女人从这条路上走过,一个穿白衣服的女人?”

“没有,先生。怎么啦?她做了什么?”

“做了什么!她从精神病院跑出来了。”

精神病院!可是我不觉得那个女人是疯子。她神色紧张,有点儿怪,但并不疯。我究竟做了什么?是帮助一个被无端关进精神病院的女人逃跑了?还是没有看管好一个可能伤害别人的病人?这些问题让我回到家后心神不定,难以入睡,直到该起床动身前往坎伯兰郡了,还是没有睡着。

*  *  *

我的行程安排是先到卡莱尔,然后换乘开往利默里奇的火车,可是由于去卡莱尔的车晚点了许多,我没有赶上转乘的车,直到10点多才到利默里奇。一个脾气很差的仆人赶了一辆马车在车站等我,到利默里奇庄园的时候,那儿的人都已经睡了。我被带到了房间,最后吹熄蜡烛睡觉的时候,我想:“今晚我会梦见谁呢?那个白衣女人?还是坎伯兰郡这个庄园里的陌生人?”

2
Life at Limmeridge House

When I got up the next morning, I was greeted by bright sunlight and a view of blue sea through the window. The future suddenly seemed full of promise. I found my way down to the breakfast-room and there, looking out of a window with her back turned to me, was a young woman with a perfect figure. But when she turned and walked towards me, I saw to my surprise that her face was ugly. Hair grew on her upper lip, and her mouth was large and firm. It was almost a man's face, but the friendly smile she gave me softened it and made her look more womanly. She welcomed me in a pleasant, educated voice and introduced herself as Marian Halcombe, Miss Fairlie's half-sister.

'My mother was twice married,' she explained, in her easy, friendly manner. 'The first time to Mr Halcombe, my father, and the second time to Mr Fairlie, my half-sister's father. My father was a poor man, and Miss Fairlie's father was a rich man. I've got nothing, and she has a fortune. I'm dark and ugly, and she's fair and pretty.' She said all this quite happily. 'My sister and I are very fond of each other, so you must please both of us, Mr Hartright, or please neither of us.'

She then told me that Miss Fairlie had a headache that morning and was being looked after by Mrs Vesey, an elderly lady who had once been Miss Fairlie's governess.

'So we shall be alone at breakfast, Mr Hartright,' she said. 'As for Mr Fairlie, your employer, you will doubtless meet him later. He is Miss Fairlie's uncle, a single man, who became Miss Fairlie's guardian when her parents died. He suffers from some mysterious illness of the nerves, and never leaves his rooms.'

While we ate breakfast, she described the quiet, regular life that she and her sister led. 'Do you think you will get used to it?' she said. 'Or will you be restless, and wish for some adventure?'

Hearing the word 'adventure' reminded me of my meeting with the woman in white, and her reference to Mrs Fairlie. I told Miss Halcombe all about my adventure, and she showed an eager interest, especially in the mention of her mother.

'But you didn't find out the woman's name?' she said.

'I'm afraid not. Only that she came from Hampshire.'

'Well, I shall spend the morning,' said Miss Halcombe, 'looking through my mother's letters. I'm sure I will find some clues there to explain this mystery. Lunch is at two o'clock, Mr Hartright, and I shall introduce you to my sister then.'

After breakfast Mr Fairlie's personal servant, Louis, came to tell me that Mr Fairlie would like to see me. I followed the servant upstairs and was shown into a large room full of art treasures. There, in an armchair, sat a small, pale, delicate-looking man of about fifty. Despite his fine clothes and the valuable rings on his soft white fingers, there was something very unattractive about him.

'So glad to have you here, Mr Hartright,' he said in a high, complaining voice. 'Please sit down, but don't move the chair. In my state of nerves any movement is painful to me. May I ask if you have found everything satisfactory here at Limmeridge?'

When I began to reply, he at once raised his hand to stop me.

'Please excuse me. But could you speak more softly? I simply cannot bear loud voices, or indeed, any kind of loud sound.'

The interview did not last long as Mr Fairlie quickly lost interest in it. He informed me that the ladies would make all the arrangements for their drawing lessons.

'I suffer so much from my nerves, Mr Hartright,' he said. 'Do you mind ringing the bell for Louis? Thank you. Good morning!'

With great relief I left the room, and spent the rest of the morning looking forward to lunchtime, when I would be introduced to Miss Fairlie.

*  *  *

At two o'clock I entered the dining room and found Miss Halcombe seated at the table with a rather fat lady who smiled all the time. This, I discovered, was Mrs Vesey. We started eating and before long we had finished lunch, with still no sign of Miss Fairlie. Miss Halcombe noticed my frequent glances at the door.

'I understand you, Mr Hartright,' she said. 'You are wondering about your other student. Well, she has got over her headache, but did not want any lunch. If you will follow me, I think I can find her somewhere in the garden.'

We walked out together along a path through the garden, until we came to a pretty summer-house. Inside I could see a young lady standing near a table, looking out at the view and turning the pages of a little drawing book. This was Miss Laura Fairlie.

How can I describe her? How can I separate this moment from all that has happened since then? In a drawing I later made of her she appears as a light, youthful figure wearing a simple white and blue striped dress and a summer hat. Her hair is light brown, almost gold, and she has eyes that are clear and blue, with a look of truth in them. They give her whole face such a charm that it is difficult to notice each individual feature: the delicate, though not perfectly straight, nose; the sweet, sensitive mouth. The life and beauty of her face lies in her eyes.

Such was my impression, but at the same time I felt there was something about her that I could not explain — something that I ought to remember, but could not. In fact, I was thinking about this so much that I could hardly answer when she greeted me.

Miss Halcombe, believing I was shy, quickly said, 'Look at your perfect student,' and she pointed at the sketches. 'She has already started work before your lessons have begun. You must show them to Mr Hartright, Laura, when we go for a drive.'

Miss Fairlie laughed with bright good humour.

'I hope he will give his true opinion of them and not just say something to please me,' she said.

'May I enquire why you say that?' I asked.

'Because I shall believe all that you tell me,' she answered simply.

In those few words she gave me the key to her own trusting, truthful character.

Later we went for our promised drive, but I must confess that I was far more interested in Miss Fairlie's conversation than her sketches. I soon realized I was behaving more like a guest than a drawing teacher and when I was on my own again I felt uneasy and dissatisfied with myself.

At dinner that evening these feelings soon disappeared, and when the meal was over, we went into a large sitting room with glass doors leading into the garden. Mrs Vesey fell asleep in an armchair and Miss Halcombe sat near a window to look through her mother's letters. At my request Miss Fairlie played the piano.

How will I ever forget that peaceful picture? The flowers outside, the music of Mozart, Miss Halcombe reading the letters in the half-light, the delicate outline of Miss Fairlie's face against the dark wall. It was an evening of sights and sounds to remember for ever.

Later, when Miss Fairlie had finished playing and had wandered out into the moonlit garden, Miss Halcombe called me.

'Mr Hartright, will you come here for a minute?'

I went over and she showed me a letter.

'It's from my mother to her second husband twelve years ago. She mentions a lady from Hampshire called Mrs Catherick, who had come to look after her sick sister living in the village. It seems she brought her only child with her, a little girl called Anne, who was about a year older than Laura. I was at a school in Paris at the time. My mother, who took a great interest in the village school, says the little girl was slow in learning so she gave her lessons here at the house. She also gave her some of Laura's white dresses and white hats, saying she looked better in white than any other colour. She says that little Anne Catherick was so grateful, and loved her so much, that one day she kissed her hand and said, "I'll always wear white as long as I live. It will help me to remember you."'

Miss Halcombe stopped and looked at me.

'Did the woman you met that night seem young enough to be twenty-two or twenty-three?'

'Yes, Miss Halcombe, as young as that.'

'And was she dressed from head to foot, all in white?'

'All in white.'

From where I sat, I could see Miss Fairlie walking in the garden, and the whiteness of her dress in the moonlight suddenly made my heart beat faster.

'Now listen to what my mother says at the end of the letter,' Miss Halcombe continued. 'It will surprise you. She says that perhaps the real reason for her liking little Anne Catherick so much was that she looked exactly like —'

Before she could finish, I jumped up. Outside stood Miss Fairlie, a white figure alone in the moonlight. And suddenly I realized what it was that I had been unable to remember — it was the extraordinary likeness between Miss Laura Fairlie and the runaway from the asylum, the woman in white.

'You see it!' said Miss Halcombe. 'Just as my mother saw the likeness between them years ago.'

'Yes,' I replied. 'But very unwillingly. To connect that lonely, friendless woman, even by an accidental likeness, to Miss Fairlie disturbs me very much. I don't like to think of it. Please call her in from that horrible moonlight!'

'We won't say anything about this likeness to Laura,' she said. 'It will be a secret between you and me.' Then she called Miss Fairlie in, asking her to play the piano again; and so my first, eventful day at Limmeridge House came to an end.

*  *  *

The days passed, the weeks passed, and summer changed into a golden autumn. A peaceful, happy time, but at last, I had to confess to myself my real feelings for Miss Fairlie.

I loved her.

Every day I was near her in that dangerous closeness which exists between teacher and student. Often, as we bent over her sketch-book, our hands and faces almost touched. I breathed the perfume of her hair. I should have put a professional distance between myself and her, as I had always done with my students in the past. But I did not, and it was soon too late.

By the third month of my stay in Cumberland, I was lost in dreams of love and blind to the dangers ahead of me. Then the first warning finally came — from her. In the space of one night, she changed towards me. There was a sudden nervous distance, and a kind of sadness, in her attitude. The pain I felt at that moment is beyond description. But I knew then that she had changed because she had suddenly discovered not only my feelings, but her own as well. This change was also reflected in Miss Halcombe, who said nothing unusual to me, but who had developed a new habit of always watching me. This new and awful situation continued for some time until, on a Thursday, near the end of the third month, I was at last rescued by the sensible and courageous Miss Halcombe.

'Have you got a moment for me?' she asked after breakfast. 'Shall we go into the garden?'

We walked to the summer-house and went inside. Miss Halcombe turned to me. 'Mr Hartright, what I have to say to you I can say here. Now, I know that you are a good man who always acts correctly. Your story about that unhappy woman in London proves that. As your friend, I must tell you that I have discovered your feelings for my sister, Laura. Although you have done nothing wrong, except show weakness, I must tell you to leave Limmeridge House before any harm is done. And there is something else I must tell you, which will also give you pain. Will you shake hands with your friend, Marian Halcombe, first?'

She spoke with such kindness that I shook her hand.

'You must leave because Laura Fairlie is to be married.'

The last word went like a bullet to my heart. I turned white, I felt cold. With one word all my hopes disappeared.

'You must put an end to your feelings, here, where you first met her. I will hide nothing from you. She is not marrying for love, but because of a promise she made to her father just before he died. The man she is to marry arrives here next Monday.'

'Let me go today,' I said bitterly. 'The sooner the better.'

'No, not today. That would look strange. Wait till tomorrow, after the post has arrived. Say to Mr Fairlie that you have received bad news and must return to London.'

'I will follow your advice, Miss Halcombe,' I said sadly. 'But may I ask who the gentleman engaged to Miss Fairlie is?'

'A rich man from Hampshire.'

Hampshire! Again a connection with Anne Catherick!

'And his name?' I asked, as calmly as I could.

'Sir Percival Glyde.'

Sir! I remembered Anne Catherick's suspicious question about Baronets, and my voice shook a little as I asked, 'Is he a Baronet?'

She paused for a moment, then answered, 'Yes, a Baronet.'


figure n. bodily shape 身材

womanly adj. having or showing qualities associated with women 具有或表现出女子气质的

fortune n. great wealth; a large sum of money 大笔财富

guardian n. a person having legal custody of another person when that person is incapable of managing his or her own affairs 监护人

reference n. the act of referring to a person etc. for information 提及;提到

delicate adj. easily made ill 娇弱的

bear v. tolerate; put up with 忍受

good morning courteous farewell 早上(上午)礼貌的告别方式

get over recover from an illness 恢复;痊愈

youthful adj. having freshness or vigour of youth 年轻的

enquire v. ask a question

confess v. admit 承认

uneasy adj. disturbed or uncomfortable in mind or body 不自在的;不舒服的

peaceful adj. characterized by peace, tranquil 平静的

extraordinary adj. unusual or remarkable 不同寻常的

runaway n. a person who flees from enemy, danger or a master 逃跑者

eventful adj. marked by noteworthy events 发生事情比较多的

professional adj. connected with a profession 职业的

blind adj. without foresight, intellectual perception or adequate information 不知道的;不了解的

sensible adj. reasonable, judicious 明智的;理智的

engaged adj. under a promise to marry 订婚

pause v. to cease or suspend an action temporarily 停顿

2.在利默里奇庄园的日子

第二天起床,迎接我的是灿烂的阳光和窗外湛蓝的大海。未来突然好像一片光明。我下楼来到早餐室,一位身材优美的年轻女士正背对我望着窗外。当她转身向我走来时,我吃惊地发现她长得很丑。她的上唇上长着胡须,嘴唇又大又厚。尽管脸长得像个男人,但是友好的微笑使她看上去有了一些女人味儿。她同我打招呼,声音悦耳,听起来很有教养。她告诉我她叫玛丽安·哈尔库姆,费尔利小姐同母异父的姐姐。

“我母亲结过两次婚,”她以一种平和友善的语调对我说,“第一次嫁给哈尔库姆先生,我父亲,第二次嫁给费尔利先生,费尔利小姐的父亲。我父亲一贫如洗,费尔利小姐的父亲却是个有钱人。我本人一无所有,但她很富有。我长得又黑又丑,她又白又漂亮。”她兴致勃勃地说着这一切,“我们姐妹俩非常要好,先生,所以你必须要讨好我们俩,要不就谁也别讨好。”

她又告诉我费尔利小姐早上头疼,维西夫人正在照顾她,维西夫人原来是费尔利小姐的家庭教师。

“今天早饭就我们两个了,哈特里特先生,”她说,“至于费尔利先生,你的雇主,你肯定得过些时候才能见到他了,他是费尔利小姐的叔叔,单身一人,费尔利小姐父母死后,他就成了她的监护人。他患有一种古怪的神经疾病,从不离开他的房间半步。”

吃早饭的时候,她对我讲了她们姐妹俩平静而规律的生活。“你觉得你能适应这样的生活吗?”她问,“你是否会烦躁不安,希望有些新奇的事情发生?”

“新奇”这个词让我想起遇到白衣女人的事,她曾经提到过费尔利夫人。当我把我的奇异经历告诉哈尔库姆小姐时,她对这件事表现出浓厚的兴趣,特别对提到她的母亲这个细节。

“你不知道那女人叫什么名字吗?”

“不知道。只知道她从汉普郡来。”

“那好吧,我今天早上,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“就翻一翻母亲的信件。我想一定会从中找出点线索解开这个谜。午饭时间是两点,哈特里特先生,到时我会把你介绍给我妹妹。”

早饭后,费尔利先生的贴身仆人路易斯过来告诉我费尔利先生要见我。我跟他上了楼,被带到一个很大的房间,里面有许多艺术珍品。扶手椅上坐着一个苍白羸弱的小个子男人,大概五十岁上下。尽管他穿着考究,白皙柔软的手指上带着贵重的戒指,但是他身上有一种让人非常不喜欢的东西。

“非常高兴你能来这里工作,哈特里特先生,”他的声音尖锐刺耳,还带着一丝怨气,“请坐,但请不要动椅子。任何动静都会刺激我的神经,让我难受。你在利默里奇感到还满意吗?”

我刚要说话,他又马上举手示意我先别说。

“请原谅,你说话声音轻点吗?我受不了大声说话,任何太响的声音我都受不了。”

我们的面谈没有持续很长时间,因为费尔利先生很快就没了兴趣。他告诉我小姐们会安排所有关于绘画课的事宜。

“我的神经很差,哈特里特先生,你能帮我摇铃叫一下路易斯吗?谢谢。再见。”

离开他的房间,我长出了一口气。上午剩下的时间我一直在等着吃午饭,到时就可以见到费尔利小姐了。

*  *  *

两点钟,我来到餐厅,看到哈尔库姆小姐同一位体态丰满的女士坐在桌旁,那位女士一直面带微笑。她就是维西夫人。我们开始一起吃饭,不一会儿就吃完了,但一直没见到费尔利小姐的影子。哈尔库姆小姐注意到我不断地朝门口张望。

“我知道你在想什么,哈特里特先生,”她说,“你一定在想你的另一个学生。她头痛已经好了,但不想吃东西。如果你跟我来,我可以在花园里找到她。”

我们一起沿着花园的小路来到一个漂亮的凉亭前。我看到里面有一位小姐站在一张桌子旁,望着外面的风景,手中翻动着一本小画册。这就是劳拉·费尔利小姐。

我该怎样描述她呢?我怎样才能把此时此刻同后来发生的一切分开呢?在我后来画的一张她的肖像里,她年轻活泼,身穿式样简单的蓝白条纹连衣裙,头戴遮阳帽。她的头发是淡棕色,接近金色。她有一双清澈诚实的蓝眼睛,使她魅力四射,让你不再注意她脸上的其他细节:小巧但不很直的鼻子,还有甜美动人的双唇。她脸部的活力和美丽都源自那双眼睛。

这就是她给我的印象,但同时她身上有一些我无法解释的东西——一些我应该记得,却想不起来的东西。我完全沉浸在自己的思绪里,甚至她向我打招呼时,我几乎都说不出话来。

哈尔库姆小姐可能觉得我是个腼腆的人,马上说:“看看你的学生多好,”然后又指了指那些画,“你的课还没开始,她已经开始自己画了。劳拉,我们一会儿坐马车出去的时候,把你的画给哈特里特先生看看。”

费尔利小姐开心地笑起来。

“我希望先生把真实的评价告诉我,不要光说好话哄我。”她说。

“请问你为什么这么说呢?”我问她。

“因为你的任何评价我都会相信。”她回答得很爽快。

从这些话里我看出她天性真诚,会毫无保留地相信他人。

过了一会儿,我们按计划坐马车出去,然而我必须承认比起费尔利小姐的画,我对她的言谈更感兴趣。我很快意识到自己的表现与其说像绘画教师不如说更像客人。自己一个人的时候,我感到有些不自在,对自己不满意。

晚饭的时候,这些感觉很快消失了。吃罢晚饭,我们来到一间大客厅,这里装有通往花园的玻璃门。维西夫人在扶手椅上睡着了,哈尔库姆小姐在翻阅她母亲的信件。在我的请求下,费尔利小姐弹起了钢琴。

这样安逸的情景我怎能忘记呢?屋外的鲜花,莫扎特的音乐,哈尔库姆小姐在微暗的光线下读信的样子,费尔利小姐映在昏暗的墙壁上的美丽侧脸,今晚这一切声音和情景都令人难以忘怀。

过了一会儿,费尔利小姐弹完了琴,走进月光下的花园。哈尔库姆小姐叫我。

“哈特里特先生,你能过来一下吗?”

我走过去,她递给我一封信。

“这是妈妈12年前写给她第二个丈夫的信。信中提到从汉普郡来的凯瑟里克太太,她是来照料住在村子里生病的妹妹的。她好像把她的独生女儿小安妮带来了,安妮比劳拉大1岁左右。当时我在巴黎读书,妈妈那时对村子里的学校非常感兴趣,她觉得小安妮学习比较吃力,就在家里辅导她。妈妈还把劳拉的一些白连衣裙和帽子送给她,说安妮穿白色衣服最好看。她说安妮·凯瑟里克很感激,也很喜欢她。一天,她吻过妈妈的手,说:‘我一辈子都会穿白色衣服,因为白色让我永远记着你。’”

哈尔库姆小姐停下来看着我,问道:

“你那天晚上碰到的那个女人,是不是只有二十二三岁的样子?”

“没错,哈尔库姆小姐,差不多那么大。”

“她是不是从头到脚都穿白色?”

“的确都是白色的。”

从我坐的地方可以看到费尔利小姐在花园中散步,月光下她的白色连衣裙突然间使我的心跳加快了。

“听听妈妈在信的末尾是怎么说的,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“你一定会感到吃惊的。她说她之所以那么喜欢小安妮·凯瑟里克,可能是因为她长得特别像——”

没等她说完,我一下子跳了起来。外面站着费尔利小姐,月光下一个孤零零的白色身影,猛然间我明白了我没有想起来的是什么了——就是劳拉·费尔利小姐同从精神病院跑出来的白衣女人惊人地相似。

“你看出来了!”哈尔库姆小姐说,“和妈妈一样,她多年前也看出了她们之间惊人的相似。”

“是的,”我说,“但是我非常不愿意把那个孤独无依的女人同费尔利小姐联系起来,即使这全是出于偶然,也让我内心不安。我不想再想这件事。还是叫她进来吧,那月光太可怕了!”

“我们不要对劳拉讲任何有关相貌相似的事,”她说,“这是我们之间的秘密。”说完,她招呼费尔利小姐进屋来,让她再弹一首曲子。就这样,我在利默里奇不平凡的第一天结束了。

*  *  *

日子一天天、一个星期又一个星期地过去了,夏季已被金秋取代。这是宁静而快乐的季节,然而,我最终还是必须向自己承认对费尔利小姐的感觉。

我爱上了她。

作为师生,每天我都和她那么接近,这很危险。很多次,在低头翻看写生簿的时候,我们的手和脸几乎要碰到,我可以闻到她头发的香味。我本应与她保持教师与学生应有的距离,我和过去教过的学生都是这样。但是我现在没有,而且已经来不及了。

来坎伯兰郡的第三个月,我已经完全沉浸在爱的幻想中,对将要到来的危险一无所知。第一个危险的信号终于来了——而且就来自于。一夜之间,她对我的态度发生了变化,她对我有一种拘束的疏离感,还有一种莫名的哀伤。我当时的痛苦无法言表。不过后来我才知道她是因为发现了我的感受,也发现了她自己的感受才有这样的变化。这种变化还反映在哈尔库姆小姐身上,她虽然没跟我说什么,但是开始经常注视着我。这种可怕的新状况一直持续到将近第三个月末的一个星期四。最后,理智、勇敢的哈尔库姆小姐帮我得到了解脱。

“能占用你一点儿时间吗?”早饭后她这样问我,“我们去花园走走好吗?”

我们来到凉亭,走了进去。哈尔库姆小姐转向我;“哈特里特先生,我要向你说的话在这儿可以说了。我知道你是一位举止得体的好人,你跟我讲的关于伦敦那个不幸女人的事证明了这一点。但是,作为你的朋友,我必须告诉你,我发现了你对我妹妹劳拉的感情。除了表现得有些软弱,你没做错什么,不过我还是必须劝你在造成伤害之前离开利默里奇庄园。我还有些事要告诉你,可能会让你痛苦。你能不能先和你的朋友玛丽安·哈尔库姆握握手?”

她说得非常诚恳,我握了握她的手。

“你必须离开这里,因为劳拉·费尔利就要结婚了。”

最后那个词就像一颗子弹一样穿过我的胸膛。我的脸色苍白,全身冰冷。就因为这一个词,我所有的希望都消失了。

“你必须在这里结束这段感情,就在你们初次相识的地方。我不会对你有任何隐瞒,她不是为了爱才结婚,而是因为她在她父亲临终时做的承诺。她要嫁的人下星期一到这里。”

“我今天就走,”我难过地说,“越快越好。”

“不,不要今天走。那样会让别人觉得奇怪。等到明天邮差来了再走。你就跟费尔利先生说收到了坏消息,必须马上回伦敦去。”

“我按你说的做,哈尔库姆小姐,”我伤心地说,“不过,你能告诉我同费尔利小姐订婚的先生是谁吗?”

“是汉普郡的一个有钱人。”

汉普郡!又一个和安妮·凯瑟里克有关的线索!

“他叫什么?”我尽量平静地问。

“珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士。”

爵士!我想起安妮·凯瑟里克问过的有关准男爵的问题。“他是准男爵吗?”我的声音有些颤抖。

她停了一停,说道:“对,他是准男爵。”

3
The unsigned letter

As I sat alone in my room later that morning, my thoughts crowded in on me. There was no reason at all for me to connect Sir Percival Glyde with the man who had made Anne Catherick so afraid — but I did. My suffering was great, but even greater was my feeling that some terrible, invisible danger lay ahead of us. Then I heard a knock at my door. It was Miss Halcombe.

'Mr Hartright, I am sorry to disturb you, but you are the only person who can advise me. A letter has just arrived for Miss Fairlie — a horrible, unsigned letter, warning her not to marry Sir Percival Glyde. It has upset my sister very much. Should I try to find out who wrote it or wait to speak to Mr Gilmore, Mr Fairlie's legal adviser, who arrives tomorrow?'

She gave me the letter. There was no greeting, no signature.

Do you believe in dreams, Miss Fairlie? Last night I dreamt I saw you in your white wedding dress in a church, so pretty, so innocent. By your side stood a man with the scar of an old wound on his right hand — a handsome man, but with a black, evil heart; a man who has brought misery to many, and who will bring misery to you. And in my dream I cried for you. Find out the past life of this man, Miss Fairlie, before you marry him. I send you this warning, because your mother was my first, my best, my only friend.

These last words suggested an idea to me, which I was afraid to mention. Was I in danger of losing my balance of mind? Why should everything lead back to the woman in white?

'I think a woman wrote this letter,' said Miss Halcombe. 'It certainly refers to Sir Percival — I remember that scar. What should I do, Mr Hartright? This mystery must be solved. Mr Gilmore is coming to discuss the financial details of Miss Fairlie's marriage, and Sir Percival arrives on Monday to fix the date of the marriage — though Miss Fairlie does not know this yet.'

The date of the marriage! Those words filled me with jealous despair. Perhaps there was some truth in this letter. If I could find the writer, perhaps I would find a way to prove that Sir Percival Glyde was not the honest man he seemed.

'I think we should begin enquiries at once,' I said. 'The longer we delay, the harder it will be to find out anything.'

We questioned the servants and learnt that the letter had been delivered by an elderly woman, who had then disappeared in the direction of the village. People in Limmeridge remembered seeing the woman, but no one could tell us who she was or where she had come from. Finally, I suggested asking the school teacher. As we approached the school door, we could hear the teacher shouting at one of the boys, saying angrily that there were no such things as ghosts. It was an awkward moment, but we went in anyway and asked our question. The teacher could tell us nothing. However, as we turned to leave, Miss Halcombe spoke to the boy standing in the corner:

'Are you the foolish boy who was talking about ghosts?'

'Yes, Miss. But I saw one! I saw it yesterday, in the churchyard. I did! It was — it was the ghost of Mrs Fairlie!'

His answer visibly shocked Miss Halcombe, and the teacher quickly stepped in to explain that the silly boy had said he had seen (or probably imagined) a woman in white standing next to Mrs Fairlie's grave as he passed the churchyard yesterday evening. There was nothing more to it than that.

'What is your opinion of this?' Miss Halcombe asked me as we went out of the school.

'The boy may have seen someone,' I said, 'but not a ghost. I think we should examine the grave. I have this suspicion, Miss Halcombe, that the writer of the letter and the imagined ghost in the churchyard might be the same person.'

She stopped, turned pale, and looked at me. 'What person?'

'Anne Catherick,' I replied. 'The woman in white.'

'I don't know why, but your suspicion frightens me,' she said slowly. 'I will show you the grave, and then I must go back to Laura. We'll meet again at the house later.'

In the churchyard I examined Mrs Fairlie's grave carefully, and noticed that the gravestone had been partly cleaned. Perhaps the person who had done the cleaning would return to finish the job. I decided to come back that evening and watch. Back at the house I explained my plan to Miss Halcombe, who seemed uneasy but made no objection. So, as the sun began to go down, I walked to the churchyard, chose my position, and waited.

After about half an hour I heard footsteps. Then two women passed in front of me and walked to the grave. One wore a long cloak with a hood over her head, hiding her face. Below the cloak a little of her dress was visible — a white dress. The other woman said something to her companion, and then walked away round the corner of the church, leaving the woman in the cloak next to the grave. After looking all around her, she took out a cloth, kissed the white cross and started to clean it.

I approached her slowly and carefully, but when she saw me, she jumped up and looked at me in terror.

There, in front of me, was the face of the woman in white.

'Don't be frightened,' I said. 'Surely you remember me?' Her eyes searched my face. 'I helped you to find the way to London,' I went on. 'Surely you have not forgotten that?'

Her face relaxed as she recognized me, and she sighed in relief. Before this, I had seen her likeness in Miss Fairlie. Now I saw Miss Fairlie's likeness in her. Except that Miss Fairlie's delicate beauty was missing from this tired face, and I could not help thinking that if ever sorrow and suffering fell on Miss Fairlie, then, and only then, they would be the living reflections of one another. It was a horrible thought.

Gently, I began to question her. I told her that I knew she had escaped from an asylum, and that I was glad I had helped her. But had she found her friend in London that night?

'Oh yes. That was Mrs Clements, who is here with me now. She was our neighbour in Hampshire, and took care of me when I was a little girl. She has always been my friend.'

'Have you no father or mother to take care of you?'

'I never saw my father — I never heard mother speak of him. And I don't get on well with her. I'd rather be with Mrs Clements, who is kind, like you.'

I learnt that she was staying with relations of Mrs Clements at a farm, three miles from the village, but there were other, harder questions I wanted to ask. Who had shut her away in an asylum? Her 'unkind' mother, perhaps? What was her motive in writing the letter to Miss Fairlie, accusing Sir Percival Glyde? Was it revenge? What wrong had Sir Percival done her?

She was easily frightened, easily confused, and could only hold one idea in her mind at a time. I tried not to alarm her. Had she ever, I asked, been wronged by a man and then abandoned? Her innocent, puzzled face told me that was not the answer.

All the time we were talking she was cleaning the gravestone with her cloth.

'Mrs Fairlie was my best friend,' she murmured. 'And her daughter...' She looked up at me, then away again, as though hiding her face in guilt. 'Is Miss Fairlie well and happy?' she whispered anxiously.

I decided to try and surprise a confession from her. 'She was not well or happy this morning, after receiving your letter. You wrote it, didn't you? It was wrong to send such a letter.'

Her face went deathly pale. Then she bent down and kissed the gravestone. 'Oh, Mrs Fairlie! Mrs Fairlie! Tell me how to save your daughter. Tell me what to do.'

'You mention no names in the letter, but Miss Fairlie knows that the person you describe is Sir Percival Glyde —'

The moment I said his name she gave such a scream of terror that my blood ran cold. Her face, now full of fear and hatred, told me everything. Without doubt the person who had shut her away in the asylum was Sir Percival Glyde.

At the sound of her scream, Mrs Clements came running and, looking angrily at me, said, 'What is it, my dear? What has this man done to you?'

'Nothing,' the poor girl said. 'He was good to me once. He helped me...' She whispered the rest in her friend's ear.

Then Mrs Clements put her arm round Anne Catherick and led her away. I watched them go, feeling great pity for that poor, pale, frightened face.

Half an hour later I was back at the house, and the story I told Miss Halcombe made her very worried.

'I am certain Sir Percival Glyde put Anne Catherick in the asylum,' I said. 'But why? What is the connection between them?'

'We must find out,' said Miss Halcombe. 'We will go to the farm tomorrow, and I will speak to Anne Catherick myself.'

*  *  *

The first thing I had to do the next morning was to ask Mr Fairlie if I could leave my job a month early. As his nerves were particularly bad, I could not speak to him directly but had to write a note, explaining that some unexpected news forced me to return to London. In reply I received a most unpleasant letter, informing me that I could go. Once, such a letter would have upset me greatly; now, I no longer cared.

Later Miss Halcombe and I walked to the farm, and Miss Halcombe went in while I waited nearby. To my surprise, she returned after only a few minutes.

'Does Anne Catherick refuse to see you?' I asked.

'Anne Catherick has gone,' replied Miss Halcombe. 'She left this morning, with Mrs Clements. The farmer's wife, Mrs Todd, has no idea why they left or where they went. She just said that Anne Catherick had been disturbed after reading something in the local newspaper a couple of days ago. I looked at the paper and saw that it mentioned Laura's future wedding. Then Mrs Todd said that Anne Catherick fainted last night, apparently in shock at something mentioned by one of the servant girls from our house, who was visiting the farm on her evening off.'

We hurried back to the house to question the servant girl. Miss Halcombe asked her if she had mentioned Sir Percival Glyde's name while at the farm. 'Oh yes,' the girl replied. 'I said he was coming on Monday.'

At that moment a cab arrived and Mr Gilmore, the family friend and legal adviser, got out. He was an elderly man, pleasant-looking and neatly dressed. Miss Halcombe introduced me, and then went away to discuss family matters with him. I wandered out into the garden. My time at Limmeridge House was nearly at an end, and I wanted to say a last goodbye to the places where I had so often walked with Miss Fairlie, in the dream-time of my happiness and my love. But the autumn day was grey and damp, and those golden memories were already fading.

As I returned to the house, I met Mr Gilmore.

'Ah, Mr Hartright,' he said. 'Miss Halcombe has told me how helpful you have been about this strange letter received by Miss Fairlie. I want you to know that the investigation is now in my safe hands. I have written to Sir Percival Glyde's lawyer in London and I'm sure we will receive a satisfactory explanation.'

'I'm afraid I am not so sure as you,' was my reply.

'Well, well,' said Mr Gilmore. 'We will wait for events.'

At dinner that evening — my last dinner at Limmeridge House — it was a hard battle to keep my self-control. I saw that it was not easy for Miss Fairlie, either. She gave me her hand as she had done in happier days, but her fingers trembled and her face was pale. Mr Gilmore kept the conversation going, and afterwards we went into the sitting room as usual. Miss Fairlie sat at the piano.

'Shall I play some of those pieces by Mozart that you like? Will you sit in your old chair near me?' she asked nervously.

'As it is my last night, I will,' I answered.

'I am very sorry you are going,' she said, almost in a whisper.

'I shall remember those kind words, Miss Fairlie, long after tomorrow has gone,' I replied.

'Don't speak about tomorrow.'

Then she played, and at last it was time to say goodnight.

The next morning I found Miss Halcombe and Miss Fairlie waiting for me downstairs. When I began to speak, Miss Fairlie turned and hurried from the room. I tried to control my voice, but could only say, 'Will you write to me, Miss Halcombe?'

She took both my hands in hers, and her face grew beautiful with the force of her generosity and pity. 'Of course I will, Walter. Goodbye — and God bless you!'

She left, and a few seconds later Miss Fairlie returned, holding something. It was her own sketch of the summer-house where we had first met. With tears in her eyes, she offered it to me,' to remind you', she whispered. My own tears fell as I kissed her hand, then I turned to go. She sank into a chair, her head dropped on her arms. At that moment I knew that Laura Fairlie loved me too. But it was over. We were separated.


crowd v. come together in a crowd 聚集;集中

invisible adj. not visible to the eye 看不见的

jealous adj. afraid, suspicious or resentful of rivalry in love or affection 嫉妒的

deliver v. distribute letters to the addressee

approach v. come near or nearer to a place 接近;靠近

examine v. look closely at 仔细地看

objection n. an expression or feeling of opposition or disapproval 反对;不同意

terror n. extreme fear 恐惧;恐怖

relax v. become less rigid or tense 放松

recognize v. identify a person an already known 认出来

relation n. a member of one's family 亲戚;亲属

motive n. factor or circumstance that induces a person to act on a particular way 动机

revenge n. retaliation for an offence or injury 复仇

abandon v. forsake or desert 抛弃

scream n. a loud high-pitched cry expressing fear, pain etc. 惊叫;尖叫

faint v. lose consciousness 失去知觉;晕倒

fade v. diminish 减退

sink v. settle down 坐下

3.匿名信件

那天上午,我一个人坐在房间里,思绪异常纷乱。我本来没有任何理由把珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士和那个让安妮·凯瑟里克害怕的人联系起来——但我的确把他们连在了一起。我很痛苦,但也强烈地感到将有看不见的可怕危险到来。这时,我听到有人敲门,来的是哈尔库姆小姐。

“哈特里特先生,很抱歉打扰你,可是只有你能给我出个主意了。刚收到一封给费尔利小姐的信——一封可怕的匿名信,警告她不要和珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士结婚。这封信让妹妹非常不安。我是应该查一下谁写的信,还是等明天费尔利先生的法律顾问吉尔摩先生来了问问他?”

她把信递给我,上面没有问候语,也没有签名。


你相信梦吗,费尔利小姐?昨天夜里我梦见你穿着白色婚纱站在教堂里,你是那么漂亮,那么纯洁。你身边站着一个右手有旧伤疤的男人,他面容英俊,但内心邪恶,他曾让许多人痛苦,也会让你痛苦。在梦里我为你哭泣。费尔利小姐,弄清这个人的过去再同他结婚。我之所以给你如此的忠告是因为你的母亲是我第一个朋友,也是最好的、唯一的朋友。


信的最后几个字让我想到了一件事,但我不敢说出来。是不是我脑子出了问题?为什么所有的事情都指向那个白衣女人?

“我认为这封信是一个女人写的,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“信里说的肯定是珀西瓦尔爵士,我记得他的那条疤。我该怎么办,哈特里特先生?这个谜一定得解开。吉尔摩先生要来谈费尔利小姐婚事的财务细节,珀西瓦尔爵士星期一来确定结婚的日期——不过费尔利小姐还不知道。”

结婚的日期!这些字眼使我又嫉妒又绝望。也许这封信里有些话是真的。如果我能找到写信人,也许会有办法证明珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士并不像他外表看起来那样正直。

“我觉得我们应该马上开始调查,”我说,“耽误的时间越长,越难找到线索。”

我们问了仆人,得知信是一个上了年纪的女人送来的,那女人朝村子的方向走去,很快就消失了。利默里奇庄园的人说记得见过那个女人,但没人知道她是谁,从哪里来。最后我建议去问一问学校的老师。快到学校门口的时候,我们听见老师正大声训斥一个学生说根本就没有什么鬼。这是个尴尬的时刻,但我们还是进去向老师提出了我们的问题。老师没能告诉我们任何信息。然而,在我们转身离开时,哈尔库姆小姐对站在角落的男孩说:

“你就是说有鬼的那个傻孩子?”

“是的,小姐。可我真的看到了!昨天在教堂的墓地里看见的。我真的看见了!那鬼是……是费尔利夫人!”

孩子的话显然令哈尔库姆小姐非常吃惊。老师马上走过来解释说这傻孩子说他昨天晚上路过教堂墓地的时候,看见(或是想象)一个穿白衣服的女人站在费尔利夫人的墓旁。我们得到的消息就是这些。

“你怎么看这件事?”走出学校,哈尔库姆小姐问我。

“那男孩可能看见了什么人,”我说,“但不是鬼。我想我们应该去看看那墓地。我怀疑,哈尔库姆小姐,写信的人和那个教堂墓地里假想出来的鬼可能是同一个人。”

她停住了脚步,脸色煞白,两只眼睛紧盯着我,“那人是谁?”

“安妮·凯瑟里克,”我回答,“那个白衣女人。”

“我不知道为什么,但是你的怀疑让我很害怕,”她缓慢地说,“我带你去墓地,然后我得回去看看劳拉。我们庄园再见。”

在教堂墓地里,我仔细察看了费尔利夫人的坟墓,发现墓碑有一部分被人擦洗过。也许那人会回来继续擦洗。我决定晚上再回来看看。回到庄园,我把想法告诉了哈尔库姆小姐,她看上去有些不安,但没有表示反对。于是,太阳刚开始落山,我就走路到了教堂墓地,找了个地方,开始等待。

大约半小时后,我听到了脚步声。接着,两个女人从我前面走过,向坟墓走去。其中一个穿着斗篷,兜帽遮住了她的脸。斗篷下面可以看到一点儿她的裙角——白色的裙子。另一个女人跟她说了些什么,然后转过墙角走了。穿斗篷的女人来到坟墓旁,向周围仔细看了看,然后掏出一块布,吻了一下白色的十字架,开始擦洗墓碑。

我小心翼翼地慢慢走近那女人,她看见我后,一下子跳起来,惊恐地望着我。

出现在我眼前的正是那白衣女人的脸。

“别害怕,”我说,“你肯定记得我吧?”她打量着我的脸。“是我指给你通往伦敦的路,你肯定没忘吧?”我接着说。

她认出我以后,长出了一口气,脸上的表情也放松了。在此之前,我曾看出她和费尔利小姐的相像之处,现在我看出费尔利小姐和她的相像之处。只不过费尔利小姐的精致美丽在这张疲惫的脸上看不出来。我不禁想到,假如不幸和痛苦降临到费尔利小姐头上,她们俩就真的一模一样了。这是个可怕的想法。

我开始和缓地向她提问。我告诉她我知道她是从精神病院逃出来的,也很高兴帮助了她。不过,那天晚上她找到伦敦的朋友了吗?

“噢,找到了。就是克莱门茨太太。她现在跟我在一起。她是我们在汉普郡的邻居,我小的时候就是她照顾我。她一直是我的朋友。”

“你没有父母照顾你吗?”

“我从没见过父亲——也从没听母亲说起过他。我同母亲关系不好。我宁愿同克莱门茨太太在一起。她心地善良,就像你一样。”

我了解到她和克莱门茨太太的亲戚住在离村子3英里远的农场里,但是我还想问一些更尖锐的问题。是谁把她关进了精神病院?是对她“不好”的母亲吗?她为什么要给费尔利小姐写信指责珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士?是复仇吗?珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士做了什么对不起她的事呢?

她特别容易受惊吓,容易思绪紊乱,只能一次考虑一个问题。我尽量不惊吓她。我问她是不是有个男人做了对不起她的事,而后抛弃了她?她单纯、疑惑的表情告诉我答案是否定的。

我们交谈的过程中,她一直在用布擦拭墓碑。

“费尔利夫人是我最好的朋友,”她小声说,“她女儿……”她抬头看看我,然后又转过头去,像是由于羞愧而不愿见人,“费尔利小姐好吗?快乐吗?”她急切地轻声问。

我决定给她一个突然袭击,看是否可以让她说出真相。“她今天早上收到你的信以后很不好,很不快乐。是你写的信,对吗?你不该写那样的信。”

她的脸变得像死人一般苍白。她低下头,吻了吻墓碑,“噢,费尔利夫人!费尔利夫人!告诉我怎么才能救你的女儿。告诉我该怎么做。”

“你在信里没有提到任何人的名字,但是费尔利小姐明白你说的那个人是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士——”

我说出这个名字的时候,她害怕得惊叫起来,那叫声让我全身发冷。她的脸上充满了恐惧和仇恨,这表情说明了一切。毫无疑问,把她关进精神病院的人就是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士。

听到惊叫声,克莱门茨太太跑过来,气愤地看了看我,说:“怎么啦,亲爱的?他对你怎么啦?”

“没事,”可怜的姑娘说,“他以前帮过我,他帮我……”下面的话她跟克莱门茨太太耳语着。

然后,克莱门茨太太挽着安妮·凯瑟里克,带她走了。我望着她们远去的背影,心中充满了对那可怜姑娘的同情,她的脸色是那样苍白,那样惊恐。

半小时后,我回到了庄园。我把事情经过告诉哈尔库姆小姐后,她显得非常担心。

“我敢肯定是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士把安妮·凯瑟里克关进精神病院的,”我说,“可是他为什么这样做呢?他们之间是什么关系呢?”

“我们必须搞清楚,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“明天我们去农场,我要亲自同安妮·凯瑟里克谈谈。”

*  *  *

第二天我要做的第一件事是请求费尔利先生允许我提前一个月结束在这里的工作。因为他的精神非常不好,我不能同他直接谈,只能写一封短信,说明我收到一些意外的消息,必须回伦敦去。很快我收到一封很不客气的回信,通知我可以离开。要是过去,这样的信会让我非常沮丧,可是现在我不在乎了。

随后,哈尔库姆小姐和我步行到农场去。她进去的时候我在附近等她。令我吃惊的是没几分钟她就出来了。

“是不是安妮·凯瑟里克拒绝见你?”我问。

“安妮·凯瑟里克已经走了,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“今天早上,她同克莱门茨太太一起走的。农场主的妻子托德太太不清楚她们为什么要走,也不知道她们到哪里去了。她只告诉我几天前安妮·凯瑟里克看了当地报纸上的什么消息后,就一直心神不安。我看了那份报纸,上面提到了劳拉将要举行的婚礼。托德太太说安妮·凯瑟里克昨晚晕倒了,原因很明显,我们庄园一个女仆带来的消息吓到了她,那个女仆昨晚放假来农场做客。”

我们马上回到庄园向那个女仆了解情况。哈尔库姆小姐问她,在农场的时候是不是提到了珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士的名字。“对,提到了,”女仆回答,“我说他星期一要来庄园。”

这个时候,一辆马车停在了门口,这家的老朋友和法律顾问吉尔摩先生从车里走下来。他是一位慈眉善目、穿着考究的老人。哈尔库姆小姐为我做了引见,然后就和吉尔摩先生去谈有关家里的事务了。我走进了外面的花园。我在利默里奇庄园的日子很快就要结束了,我想同这里的一切道个别。在这个花园里,我多少次和费尔利小姐散步,这是我享受幸福,享受爱情的地方。秋日的天灰蒙蒙的,空气很潮湿,那些甜美的记忆已经开始褪色。

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我回到屋里以后,见到了吉尔摩先生。

“呵,哈特里特先生,”他对我说,“哈尔库姆小姐已经跟我说了费尔利小姐收到那封奇怪来信的事,你帮了很大的忙。我想告诉你,对这件事的调查我很有把握,我已经给珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士在伦敦的律师写了信,我相信我们会得到一个满意的答复的。”

“我倒不像你那么有把握。”我说。

“好吧,好吧,”吉尔摩先生说,“那我们就等等结果吧。”

那天吃晚饭的时候——我在利默里奇庄园的最后一次晚饭——我努力控制自己的情感。我看得出费尔利小姐也非常不自在。像以前快乐的日子里一样,她把手伸给我,但她的手指在颤抖,脸上没有一点血色。只有吉尔摩先生滔滔不绝地说这说那,之后大家像往常一样来到客厅。费尔利小姐坐到了钢琴旁。

“我弹几首你喜欢的莫扎特的曲子好吗?你还坐我旁边的椅子,好吗?”她神色不安地问我。

“这是我在这里的最后一个晚上了,我照你说的做。”我对她说。

“你要走了,我很难过。”她的声音低得几乎听不到。

“我会记住你的话,费尔利小姐,明天以后我会一直记着的。”我说。

“不要提明天。”

接下来她开始弹钢琴,最后到说晚安的时候了。

转天早晨,我看到哈尔库姆小姐和费尔利小姐在楼下等我。我刚要开口说话,费尔利小姐转身跑出了房间。我尽量控制着自己的声音,但只说了一句:“给我写信好吗,哈尔库姆小姐?”

她紧紧握住我的双手,她的慷慨和同情让她显得漂亮起来。“我当然会的,沃尔特。再见——愿上帝保佑你!”

她离开片刻后,费尔利小姐回来了,手里还拿着什么东西。那是她自己画的我们初次相见的凉亭。她眼里噙着泪水,把画递给我。“留个纪念吧。”她轻声说。我吻着她的手,眼泪禁不住流了下来。我转身离去。她一下子跌坐到椅子上,头垂到了手臂上。那一刻,我明白劳拉·费尔利也在爱着我。但是,一切都结束了,我们被分开了。

1.A meeting by moonlight

PART ONE
THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
第一部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

1
A meeting by moonlight

It was the last day of July. The long hot summer was coming to an end, and I was feeling ill and depressed. I was also short of money, so I had little chance of escaping from the dusty London streets, and would have to spend the autumn economically between my rooms in the city and my mother's house.

My mother and my sister, Sarah, lived in a cottage in Hampstead, in the northern suburbs, and I usually went to see them twice a week. This evening I arrived at the gate of the cottage just as it was starting to get dark. I had hardly rung the bell before the door was opened violently, and my Italian friend, Professor Pesca, rushed out to greet me.

Pesca was a language teacher who had left Italy for political reasons and had made his home in England. He was a strange, excitable little man, who was always trying to be more English than the English. I had met him from time to time when he was teaching in the same houses as I was, and then one day I met him by chance in Brighton. We agreed to go for a swim together in the sea. He was very enthusiastic and it never for a moment occurred to me that he did not know how to swim! Fortunately, when he suddenly sank to the bottom, I was able to dive down and save him. From that day on he was my grateful friend, and that evening he showed his gratitude to me in a way that changed my whole life.

'Now, my good friends,' he said, when we were all in my mother's sitting-room. 'I have some wonderful news for you. I have been asked by my employer to recommend a drawing teacher for a post with a rich family in the north of England. And who do you think I have recommended? The best drawing teacher in the world — Mr Walter Hartright!'

'My dear Pesca! How good you are to Walter!' exclaimed my mother. 'How kind, how generous you are!'

As for myself, although I was certainly grateful for his kindness, I still felt strangely depressed. I thanked him warmly, however, and asked to see the conditions. The note he gave me said that a qualified drawing teacher was wanted by Mr Frederick Fairlie of Limmeridge House, Cumberland, to teach his two young nieces for a period of at least four months. The teacher was to live at Limmeridge House as a gentleman and receive four pounds a week. Letters to show he was of good character would be required.

The position was certainly an attractive one, and I could not understand why I felt so little enthusiasm for it. However, since my mother and sister thought it was a great opportunity, and I had no wish to hurt Pesca's feelings, I agreed to apply for the job.

The next morning I sent my letters of recommendation to the Professor's employer, and four days later I heard that Mr Fairlie accepted my services and requested me to start for Cumberland immediately. I arranged to leave the next day, and in the evening I walked to Hampstead to say goodbye to my mother and Sarah.

When I left them at midnight, a full moon was shining in a dark blue, starless sky, and the air was soft and warm. I decided to take the long route home, and walk across Hampstead Heath before joining the road into the centre of the city. After a while I came to a crossroads and turned onto the London road. I was lost in my own thoughts, wondering about the two young ladies in Cumberland, when suddenly, my heart seemed to stop beating. A hand had touched my shoulder from behind.

I turned at once, my hand tightening on my walking stick.

There, as if it had dropped from the sky, stood the figure of a woman, dressed from head to foot in white clothes. I was too surprised to speak.

'Is that the road into London?' she said.

I looked at her carefully. It was then nearly one o'clock. All I could see in the moonlight was a young colourless face, large sad eyes, and light brown hair. Her manner was quiet and self-controlled. What sort of woman she was, and why she was out so late alone, I could not guess. But there was nothing evil about her — indeed, a kind of sad innocence seemed to come from her.

'Did you hear me?' she said, quietly and rapidly.

'Yes,' I replied, 'that's the road. Please excuse me — I was rather surprised by your sudden appearance.'

'You don't suspect me of doing anything wrong, do you?'

'No, no, seeing you so suddenly gave me a shock, that's all.'

'I heard you coming,' she said, 'and hid behind those trees to see what sort of man you were, before I risked speaking. May I trust you?' Her eyes searched my face, anxiously.

Her loneliness and helplessness were so obvious that I felt great sympathy for her. 'Tell me how I can help you,' I said, 'and if I can, I will.'

'Oh, thank you, thank you. You are very kind.' Her voice trembled a little as she spoke. 'I don't know London at all. Can I get a cab or a carriage at this time of night? Could you show me where to get one, and will you promise not to interfere with me? I have a friend in London who will be glad to receive me. I want nothing else — will you promise?'

She looked nervously up and down the road, then back at me.

How could I refuse? Her fear and confusion were painful to see.

'Will you promise?' she repeated.

'Yes.'

We set off together towards the centre of London. It was like a dream — walking along that familiar road, with so strange and so mysterious a companion at my side.

'Do you know any men of the rank of Baronet in London?' she asked suddenly.

There was a note of suspicion in the strange question, and when I said I knew no Baronets, she seemed relieved. I questioned her further, and she murmured that she had been cruelly used by a Baronet she would not name. She told me she came from Hampshire and asked if I lived in London. I explained that I did, but that I was leaving for Cumberland the next day.

'Cumberland!' she repeated softly. 'Ah! I wish I was going there too. I was once happy in Cumberland, in Limmeridge village. I'd like to see Limmeridge House again.'

Limmeridge House! I stopped, amazed.

'What's wrong?' she asked anxiously. 'Did you hear anybody calling after us?'

'No, no. It's just that I heard the name of Limmeridge House very recently. Do you know somebody there?'

'I did once,' she said. 'But Mrs Fairlie is dead; and her husband is dead; and their little girl may be married and gone away...'

Perhaps she would have told me more, but just at that moment we saw a cab. I stopped it, and she quickly got in.

'Please,' I said, 'let me see you safely to your friend's house.'

'No, no,' she cried. 'I'm quite safe, and you must let me go. Remember your promise! But thank you — oh! thank you.'

She caught my hand in hers, kissed it, and pushed it away. The cab disappeared into the black shadows on the road — and the woman in white had gone.

Ten minutes later I was still on the same road, thinking uneasily about the whole adventure, when I heard wheels behind me. An open carriage with two men in it passed me, then stopped when they saw a policeman walking further down the street.

'Officer!' cried one of the men. 'Have you seen a woman pass this way? A woman in white clothes?'

'No, sir. Why? What has she done?'

'Done! She has escaped from my asylum.'

An asylum! But the woman had not seemed mad to me. Nervous, and a little strange, perhaps, but not mad. What had I done? Had I helped a woman wrongly imprisoned to escape? Or had I failed to protect a sick person who might come to harm? These disturbing thoughts kept me awake all night after I had got back to my rooms, until at last it was time to leave London and set out for Cumberland.

*  *  *

My travelling instructions directed me to Carlisle and then to change trains for Limmeridge. However, because of a long delay I missed my connection and did not get to Limmeridge till past ten. A servant in rather a bad temper was waiting for me at the station with a carriage and when I arrived at Limmeridge House everyone had gone to bed. I was shown to my room and when I at last put out the candle, I thought to myself, 'What shall I see in my dreams tonight? The woman in white? Or the unknown inhabitants of this Cumberland house?'


depressed adj. dispirited or miserable 无精打采的

economically adv. sparing in the use of resources 节俭地

violently adv. using aggressive physical force 用力地

gratitude n. a feeling of being grateful to someone because they have given you something or done something for you 感激之情;知恩图报之心

recommend v. suggest as fit for some purpose or use 推荐

exclaim v. cry out suddenly esp. in anger, surprise, pain etc. (出于气愤、惊讶、痛苦等)大喊;惊叫

character n. the collective qualities that distinguish a person or thing 特点;品行

apply for make a formal request for something to be done, given etc. 申请

be lost in be engrossed in 全神贯注于……

tighten v. make or become tight or tighter 握紧;攥紧

colourless adj. without colour 没有颜色的

suspect v. be inclined to accuse mentally 怀疑

shock n. a sudden disturbing effect 震惊;吃惊

companion n. a person who accompanies another 伙伴

baronet n. member of lowest British hereditary titled order 准男爵

relieved adj. freed from anxiety or distress 松了一口气

murmur v. utter in a low voice 低声说

adventure n. an unusual and exciting experience 不同寻常又令人兴奋的经历

asylum n. institution offering shelter and support to the mentally ill 精神病院

imprison v. put into prison 囚禁

inhabitant n. one who lives in a place 居住者

1.月下邂逅

那是7月的最后一天。漫长、炎热的夏季已经接近尾声,但我觉得身体不太舒服,心情也有些压抑。我没什么钱,不大可能离开尘土飞扬的伦敦,只得在伦敦的住处和母亲的家中将就这个秋天了。

母亲和妹妹萨拉住在伦敦北郊汉普斯特德的一所小房子里,我每星期会去看她们两次。今天我到那里的时候,天已经快黑了。刚一按门铃,我的意大利朋友,佩斯卡教授就用力打开了门,箭步冲出来迎接我。

佩斯卡由于政治原因从意大利来到英国,在这里做语言教师,安顿了下来。他个头不高,性格古怪而天真,极力表现出比英国人还地道的英国做派。我曾经和他在几个家庭里同为家庭教师,所以经常见面。有一天,我在布赖顿碰到他,两人说好一同到海滨游泳。他当时非常兴奋,我根本没想到他竟然不会游泳!幸好他突然沉下去的时候,我潜进水里把他救了上来。从那以后,他对我感激不尽,我们成了朋友,而这天晚上他的感恩之举改变了我的一生。

大家齐聚客厅时,他说:“嘿,朋友们,我有一个好消息要告诉你们。我的东家让我为英格兰北部一个富有的人家推荐一名绘画教师。你们猜我推荐了谁?我推荐的是世界上最好的绘画教师——沃尔特·哈特里特先生!”

“亲爱的佩斯卡,你对沃尔特真是太好了!”母亲说道。“你真是好心又慷慨!”

我本人也很感激他的好意,但是总觉得有一种莫名的不安。不过我还是热情地跟他道谢,向他打听一些具体情况。他给我的条子上说坎伯兰郡利默里奇庄园的弗雷德里克·费尔利先生要聘请一位优秀的绘画教师,教他的两个侄女画画,聘期至少四个月。受聘教师将住在利默里奇庄园,薪水是一星期4英镑。应聘教师必须出具品行良好的证明信。

这的确是一份令人心动的工作,但不知为什么我就是兴奋不起来。不管怎样,既然母亲和妹妹都认为这是个好机会,我也不愿伤害佩斯卡的感情,于是我答应应聘。

转天早晨,我把推荐信寄给佩斯卡的雇主,四天之后传来消息说,费尔利先生接受了我的应聘,要我立即动身前往坎伯兰郡。我做好了第二天动身的准备,晚上步行到汉普斯特德向母亲和妹妹道别。

离开她们已是子夜时分,深蓝的天空满月高悬,看不见一颗星星,空气温暖宜人。我决定走那条稍远一点儿的路回家,先穿过汉普斯特德荒地,再走通往市中心的那条路。不一会儿,我来到十字路口,踏上了通向伦敦的大路。我满脑子在想着坎伯兰郡两位小姐的事,突然一只手从后面拍了拍我的肩膀,吓得我心跳都快停止了。

我猛地转过身,攥紧了手杖。

我眼前站着一个白衣女人,仿佛从天而降。我惊得一句话也说不出来。

“那条路是去伦敦的吗?”那女人开口问道。

我仔细打量着她。这时已将近凌晨1点了。借着月光我只能看出一张年轻却没有血色的脸,一对哀伤的大眼睛和淡棕色的头发。她看上去镇定自若。我猜不出她是个什么样的女人,这么晚了为什么孤身一人在外面。可是她看上去没有恶意,实际上还流露出一丝哀伤和纯真。

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“你听见我说话了吗?”她很快地轻声说。

“是的,”我赶忙回答,“是那条路。请原谅,你出现得太突然,吓了我一跳。”

“你不会怀疑我在做什么坏事吧?”

“不,不是。只不过突然看到你,吓了一跳。”

“我听到你走过来,”她说,“就先躲在树后看你是什么样的人,然后才敢同你说话的。我能信赖你吗?”她不安地看着我的脸。

她看起来实在是非常孤独和无助,这大大地激起了我的同情。“说吧,我能为你做什么,”我说,“只要我能做的,一定帮忙。”

“哦,谢谢,谢谢。你真是个好人。”她的声音有些颤抖,“我对伦敦一无所知,这时候还有出租马车吗?你能告诉我哪里能找辆车吗?你能保证不要多问吗?我在伦敦有朋友,她会帮我的,就是这样——你能保证吗?”

她神色紧张地朝大路张望,然后又回头看我。

我怎么能够拒绝呢?她紧张而慌乱的样子令人不安。

“你能保证吗?”她再一次问。

“我保证。”

我们一起朝伦敦市中心走去。这真像是一场梦——走在熟悉的路上,身旁多了一位陌生、神秘的同路人。

“你认识伦敦有准男爵爵位的人吗?”她突然问我。

从这个奇怪的问题可以看出她对我还是有所怀疑,当我告诉她我一个准男爵也不认识时,她似乎才松了一口气。我进一步追问,她低声告诉我一个准男爵害过她,她不愿说出他的名字。她说她从汉普郡来,问我是否住在伦敦。我告诉她我是住在伦敦,但天一亮就要去坎伯兰郡了。

“坎伯兰郡!”她轻声重复着,“啊,我要是也能去那儿就好了。我曾在坎伯兰郡的利默里奇村度过一段快乐的时光,真想再看一看利默里奇庄园。”

利默里奇庄园!我停住脚步,感到很惊讶。

“怎么啦?”她急切地问,“你听到我们后面有人在喊吗?”

“不,不是。因为我最近听说过利默里奇庄园,你认识那里的什么人吗?”

“以前认识,”她回答,“不过费尔利夫人已经死了,她丈夫也死了,他们的小女儿可能已经结婚离开了那里。”

若不是看见一辆出租马车,她也许会告诉我更多的事情。我叫住马车,她很快上了车。

我说:“还是让我把你平平安安地送到朋友家吧。”

“不,不,”她大声说,“我现在很安全,你就让我自己走吧。你答应过我的!谢谢你,谢谢。”

她抓住我的手,吻了一下,然后推开。马车的影子消失在夜幕中的大路上——白衣女人也不见了。

十分钟后,我还走在同一条路上,回想着刚才发生的怪事,忽然身后传来车轮的声音。两个人坐着敞篷马车从我身边经过,他们看见路上有个警察在巡逻,就停下车来。

“警官!”一个人说,“你看没看见一个女人从这条路上走过,一个穿白衣服的女人?”

“没有,先生。怎么啦?她做了什么?”

“做了什么!她从精神病院跑出来了。”

精神病院!可是我不觉得那个女人是疯子。她神色紧张,有点儿怪,但并不疯。我究竟做了什么?是帮助一个被无端关进精神病院的女人逃跑了?还是没有看管好一个可能伤害别人的病人?这些问题让我回到家后心神不定,难以入睡,直到该起床动身前往坎伯兰郡了,还是没有睡着。

*  *  *

我的行程安排是先到卡莱尔,然后换乘开往利默里奇的火车,可是由于去卡莱尔的车晚点了许多,我没有赶上转乘的车,直到10点多才到利默里奇。一个脾气很差的仆人赶了一辆马车在车站等我,到利默里奇庄园的时候,那儿的人都已经睡了。我被带到了房间,最后吹熄蜡烛睡觉的时候,我想:“今晚我会梦见谁呢?那个白衣女人?还是坎伯兰郡这个庄园里的陌生人?”

2
Life at Limmeridge House

When I got up the next morning, I was greeted by bright sunlight and a view of blue sea through the window. The future suddenly seemed full of promise. I found my way down to the breakfast-room and there, looking out of a window with her back turned to me, was a young woman with a perfect figure. But when she turned and walked towards me, I saw to my surprise that her face was ugly. Hair grew on her upper lip, and her mouth was large and firm. It was almost a man's face, but the friendly smile she gave me softened it and made her look more womanly. She welcomed me in a pleasant, educated voice and introduced herself as Marian Halcombe, Miss Fairlie's half-sister.

'My mother was twice married,' she explained, in her easy, friendly manner. 'The first time to Mr Halcombe, my father, and the second time to Mr Fairlie, my half-sister's father. My father was a poor man, and Miss Fairlie's father was a rich man. I've got nothing, and she has a fortune. I'm dark and ugly, and she's fair and pretty.' She said all this quite happily. 'My sister and I are very fond of each other, so you must please both of us, Mr Hartright, or please neither of us.'

She then told me that Miss Fairlie had a headache that morning and was being looked after by Mrs Vesey, an elderly lady who had once been Miss Fairlie's governess.

'So we shall be alone at breakfast, Mr Hartright,' she said. 'As for Mr Fairlie, your employer, you will doubtless meet him later. He is Miss Fairlie's uncle, a single man, who became Miss Fairlie's guardian when her parents died. He suffers from some mysterious illness of the nerves, and never leaves his rooms.'

While we ate breakfast, she described the quiet, regular life that she and her sister led. 'Do you think you will get used to it?' she said. 'Or will you be restless, and wish for some adventure?'

Hearing the word 'adventure' reminded me of my meeting with the woman in white, and her reference to Mrs Fairlie. I told Miss Halcombe all about my adventure, and she showed an eager interest, especially in the mention of her mother.

'But you didn't find out the woman's name?' she said.

'I'm afraid not. Only that she came from Hampshire.'

'Well, I shall spend the morning,' said Miss Halcombe, 'looking through my mother's letters. I'm sure I will find some clues there to explain this mystery. Lunch is at two o'clock, Mr Hartright, and I shall introduce you to my sister then.'

After breakfast Mr Fairlie's personal servant, Louis, came to tell me that Mr Fairlie would like to see me. I followed the servant upstairs and was shown into a large room full of art treasures. There, in an armchair, sat a small, pale, delicate-looking man of about fifty. Despite his fine clothes and the valuable rings on his soft white fingers, there was something very unattractive about him.

'So glad to have you here, Mr Hartright,' he said in a high, complaining voice. 'Please sit down, but don't move the chair. In my state of nerves any movement is painful to me. May I ask if you have found everything satisfactory here at Limmeridge?'

When I began to reply, he at once raised his hand to stop me.

'Please excuse me. But could you speak more softly? I simply cannot bear loud voices, or indeed, any kind of loud sound.'

The interview did not last long as Mr Fairlie quickly lost interest in it. He informed me that the ladies would make all the arrangements for their drawing lessons.

'I suffer so much from my nerves, Mr Hartright,' he said. 'Do you mind ringing the bell for Louis? Thank you. Good morning!'

With great relief I left the room, and spent the rest of the morning looking forward to lunchtime, when I would be introduced to Miss Fairlie.

*  *  *

At two o'clock I entered the dining room and found Miss Halcombe seated at the table with a rather fat lady who smiled all the time. This, I discovered, was Mrs Vesey. We started eating and before long we had finished lunch, with still no sign of Miss Fairlie. Miss Halcombe noticed my frequent glances at the door.

'I understand you, Mr Hartright,' she said. 'You are wondering about your other student. Well, she has got over her headache, but did not want any lunch. If you will follow me, I think I can find her somewhere in the garden.'

We walked out together along a path through the garden, until we came to a pretty summer-house. Inside I could see a young lady standing near a table, looking out at the view and turning the pages of a little drawing book. This was Miss Laura Fairlie.

How can I describe her? How can I separate this moment from all that has happened since then? In a drawing I later made of her she appears as a light, youthful figure wearing a simple white and blue striped dress and a summer hat. Her hair is light brown, almost gold, and she has eyes that are clear and blue, with a look of truth in them. They give her whole face such a charm that it is difficult to notice each individual feature: the delicate, though not perfectly straight, nose; the sweet, sensitive mouth. The life and beauty of her face lies in her eyes.

Such was my impression, but at the same time I felt there was something about her that I could not explain — something that I ought to remember, but could not. In fact, I was thinking about this so much that I could hardly answer when she greeted me.

Miss Halcombe, believing I was shy, quickly said, 'Look at your perfect student,' and she pointed at the sketches. 'She has already started work before your lessons have begun. You must show them to Mr Hartright, Laura, when we go for a drive.'

Miss Fairlie laughed with bright good humour.

'I hope he will give his true opinion of them and not just say something to please me,' she said.

'May I enquire why you say that?' I asked.

'Because I shall believe all that you tell me,' she answered simply.

In those few words she gave me the key to her own trusting, truthful character.

Later we went for our promised drive, but I must confess that I was far more interested in Miss Fairlie's conversation than her sketches. I soon realized I was behaving more like a guest than a drawing teacher and when I was on my own again I felt uneasy and dissatisfied with myself.

At dinner that evening these feelings soon disappeared, and when the meal was over, we went into a large sitting room with glass doors leading into the garden. Mrs Vesey fell asleep in an armchair and Miss Halcombe sat near a window to look through her mother's letters. At my request Miss Fairlie played the piano.

How will I ever forget that peaceful picture? The flowers outside, the music of Mozart, Miss Halcombe reading the letters in the half-light, the delicate outline of Miss Fairlie's face against the dark wall. It was an evening of sights and sounds to remember for ever.

Later, when Miss Fairlie had finished playing and had wandered out into the moonlit garden, Miss Halcombe called me.

'Mr Hartright, will you come here for a minute?'

I went over and she showed me a letter.

'It's from my mother to her second husband twelve years ago. She mentions a lady from Hampshire called Mrs Catherick, who had come to look after her sick sister living in the village. It seems she brought her only child with her, a little girl called Anne, who was about a year older than Laura. I was at a school in Paris at the time. My mother, who took a great interest in the village school, says the little girl was slow in learning so she gave her lessons here at the house. She also gave her some of Laura's white dresses and white hats, saying she looked better in white than any other colour. She says that little Anne Catherick was so grateful, and loved her so much, that one day she kissed her hand and said, "I'll always wear white as long as I live. It will help me to remember you."'

Miss Halcombe stopped and looked at me.

'Did the woman you met that night seem young enough to be twenty-two or twenty-three?'

'Yes, Miss Halcombe, as young as that.'

'And was she dressed from head to foot, all in white?'

'All in white.'

From where I sat, I could see Miss Fairlie walking in the garden, and the whiteness of her dress in the moonlight suddenly made my heart beat faster.

'Now listen to what my mother says at the end of the letter,' Miss Halcombe continued. 'It will surprise you. She says that perhaps the real reason for her liking little Anne Catherick so much was that she looked exactly like —'

Before she could finish, I jumped up. Outside stood Miss Fairlie, a white figure alone in the moonlight. And suddenly I realized what it was that I had been unable to remember — it was the extraordinary likeness between Miss Laura Fairlie and the runaway from the asylum, the woman in white.

'You see it!' said Miss Halcombe. 'Just as my mother saw the likeness between them years ago.'

'Yes,' I replied. 'But very unwillingly. To connect that lonely, friendless woman, even by an accidental likeness, to Miss Fairlie disturbs me very much. I don't like to think of it. Please call her in from that horrible moonlight!'

'We won't say anything about this likeness to Laura,' she said. 'It will be a secret between you and me.' Then she called Miss Fairlie in, asking her to play the piano again; and so my first, eventful day at Limmeridge House came to an end.

*  *  *

The days passed, the weeks passed, and summer changed into a golden autumn. A peaceful, happy time, but at last, I had to confess to myself my real feelings for Miss Fairlie.

I loved her.

Every day I was near her in that dangerous closeness which exists between teacher and student. Often, as we bent over her sketch-book, our hands and faces almost touched. I breathed the perfume of her hair. I should have put a professional distance between myself and her, as I had always done with my students in the past. But I did not, and it was soon too late.

By the third month of my stay in Cumberland, I was lost in dreams of love and blind to the dangers ahead of me. Then the first warning finally came — from her. In the space of one night, she changed towards me. There was a sudden nervous distance, and a kind of sadness, in her attitude. The pain I felt at that moment is beyond description. But I knew then that she had changed because she had suddenly discovered not only my feelings, but her own as well. This change was also reflected in Miss Halcombe, who said nothing unusual to me, but who had developed a new habit of always watching me. This new and awful situation continued for some time until, on a Thursday, near the end of the third month, I was at last rescued by the sensible and courageous Miss Halcombe.

'Have you got a moment for me?' she asked after breakfast. 'Shall we go into the garden?'

We walked to the summer-house and went inside. Miss Halcombe turned to me. 'Mr Hartright, what I have to say to you I can say here. Now, I know that you are a good man who always acts correctly. Your story about that unhappy woman in London proves that. As your friend, I must tell you that I have discovered your feelings for my sister, Laura. Although you have done nothing wrong, except show weakness, I must tell you to leave Limmeridge House before any harm is done. And there is something else I must tell you, which will also give you pain. Will you shake hands with your friend, Marian Halcombe, first?'

She spoke with such kindness that I shook her hand.

'You must leave because Laura Fairlie is to be married.'

The last word went like a bullet to my heart. I turned white, I felt cold. With one word all my hopes disappeared.

'You must put an end to your feelings, here, where you first met her. I will hide nothing from you. She is not marrying for love, but because of a promise she made to her father just before he died. The man she is to marry arrives here next Monday.'

'Let me go today,' I said bitterly. 'The sooner the better.'

'No, not today. That would look strange. Wait till tomorrow, after the post has arrived. Say to Mr Fairlie that you have received bad news and must return to London.'

'I will follow your advice, Miss Halcombe,' I said sadly. 'But may I ask who the gentleman engaged to Miss Fairlie is?'

'A rich man from Hampshire.'

Hampshire! Again a connection with Anne Catherick!

'And his name?' I asked, as calmly as I could.

'Sir Percival Glyde.'

Sir! I remembered Anne Catherick's suspicious question about Baronets, and my voice shook a little as I asked, 'Is he a Baronet?'

She paused for a moment, then answered, 'Yes, a Baronet.'


figure n. bodily shape 身材

womanly adj. having or showing qualities associated with women 具有或表现出女子气质的

fortune n. great wealth; a large sum of money 大笔财富

guardian n. a person having legal custody of another person when that person is incapable of managing his or her own affairs 监护人

reference n. the act of referring to a person etc. for information 提及;提到

delicate adj. easily made ill 娇弱的

bear v. tolerate; put up with 忍受

good morning courteous farewell 早上(上午)礼貌的告别方式

get over recover from an illness 恢复;痊愈

youthful adj. having freshness or vigour of youth 年轻的

enquire v. ask a question

confess v. admit 承认

uneasy adj. disturbed or uncomfortable in mind or body 不自在的;不舒服的

peaceful adj. characterized by peace, tranquil 平静的

extraordinary adj. unusual or remarkable 不同寻常的

runaway n. a person who flees from enemy, danger or a master 逃跑者

eventful adj. marked by noteworthy events 发生事情比较多的

professional adj. connected with a profession 职业的

blind adj. without foresight, intellectual perception or adequate information 不知道的;不了解的

sensible adj. reasonable, judicious 明智的;理智的

engaged adj. under a promise to marry 订婚

pause v. to cease or suspend an action temporarily 停顿

2.在利默里奇庄园的日子

第二天起床,迎接我的是灿烂的阳光和窗外湛蓝的大海。未来突然好像一片光明。我下楼来到早餐室,一位身材优美的年轻女士正背对我望着窗外。当她转身向我走来时,我吃惊地发现她长得很丑。她的上唇上长着胡须,嘴唇又大又厚。尽管脸长得像个男人,但是友好的微笑使她看上去有了一些女人味儿。她同我打招呼,声音悦耳,听起来很有教养。她告诉我她叫玛丽安·哈尔库姆,费尔利小姐同母异父的姐姐。

“我母亲结过两次婚,”她以一种平和友善的语调对我说,“第一次嫁给哈尔库姆先生,我父亲,第二次嫁给费尔利先生,费尔利小姐的父亲。我父亲一贫如洗,费尔利小姐的父亲却是个有钱人。我本人一无所有,但她很富有。我长得又黑又丑,她又白又漂亮。”她兴致勃勃地说着这一切,“我们姐妹俩非常要好,先生,所以你必须要讨好我们俩,要不就谁也别讨好。”

她又告诉我费尔利小姐早上头疼,维西夫人正在照顾她,维西夫人原来是费尔利小姐的家庭教师。

“今天早饭就我们两个了,哈特里特先生,”她说,“至于费尔利先生,你的雇主,你肯定得过些时候才能见到他了,他是费尔利小姐的叔叔,单身一人,费尔利小姐父母死后,他就成了她的监护人。他患有一种古怪的神经疾病,从不离开他的房间半步。”

吃早饭的时候,她对我讲了她们姐妹俩平静而规律的生活。“你觉得你能适应这样的生活吗?”她问,“你是否会烦躁不安,希望有些新奇的事情发生?”

“新奇”这个词让我想起遇到白衣女人的事,她曾经提到过费尔利夫人。当我把我的奇异经历告诉哈尔库姆小姐时,她对这件事表现出浓厚的兴趣,特别对提到她的母亲这个细节。

“你不知道那女人叫什么名字吗?”

“不知道。只知道她从汉普郡来。”

“那好吧,我今天早上,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“就翻一翻母亲的信件。我想一定会从中找出点线索解开这个谜。午饭时间是两点,哈特里特先生,到时我会把你介绍给我妹妹。”

早饭后,费尔利先生的贴身仆人路易斯过来告诉我费尔利先生要见我。我跟他上了楼,被带到一个很大的房间,里面有许多艺术珍品。扶手椅上坐着一个苍白羸弱的小个子男人,大概五十岁上下。尽管他穿着考究,白皙柔软的手指上带着贵重的戒指,但是他身上有一种让人非常不喜欢的东西。

“非常高兴你能来这里工作,哈特里特先生,”他的声音尖锐刺耳,还带着一丝怨气,“请坐,但请不要动椅子。任何动静都会刺激我的神经,让我难受。你在利默里奇感到还满意吗?”

我刚要说话,他又马上举手示意我先别说。

“请原谅,你说话声音轻点吗?我受不了大声说话,任何太响的声音我都受不了。”

我们的面谈没有持续很长时间,因为费尔利先生很快就没了兴趣。他告诉我小姐们会安排所有关于绘画课的事宜。

“我的神经很差,哈特里特先生,你能帮我摇铃叫一下路易斯吗?谢谢。再见。”

离开他的房间,我长出了一口气。上午剩下的时间我一直在等着吃午饭,到时就可以见到费尔利小姐了。

*  *  *

两点钟,我来到餐厅,看到哈尔库姆小姐同一位体态丰满的女士坐在桌旁,那位女士一直面带微笑。她就是维西夫人。我们开始一起吃饭,不一会儿就吃完了,但一直没见到费尔利小姐的影子。哈尔库姆小姐注意到我不断地朝门口张望。

“我知道你在想什么,哈特里特先生,”她说,“你一定在想你的另一个学生。她头痛已经好了,但不想吃东西。如果你跟我来,我可以在花园里找到她。”

我们一起沿着花园的小路来到一个漂亮的凉亭前。我看到里面有一位小姐站在一张桌子旁,望着外面的风景,手中翻动着一本小画册。这就是劳拉·费尔利小姐。

我该怎样描述她呢?我怎样才能把此时此刻同后来发生的一切分开呢?在我后来画的一张她的肖像里,她年轻活泼,身穿式样简单的蓝白条纹连衣裙,头戴遮阳帽。她的头发是淡棕色,接近金色。她有一双清澈诚实的蓝眼睛,使她魅力四射,让你不再注意她脸上的其他细节:小巧但不很直的鼻子,还有甜美动人的双唇。她脸部的活力和美丽都源自那双眼睛。

这就是她给我的印象,但同时她身上有一些我无法解释的东西——一些我应该记得,却想不起来的东西。我完全沉浸在自己的思绪里,甚至她向我打招呼时,我几乎都说不出话来。

哈尔库姆小姐可能觉得我是个腼腆的人,马上说:“看看你的学生多好,”然后又指了指那些画,“你的课还没开始,她已经开始自己画了。劳拉,我们一会儿坐马车出去的时候,把你的画给哈特里特先生看看。”

费尔利小姐开心地笑起来。

“我希望先生把真实的评价告诉我,不要光说好话哄我。”她说。

“请问你为什么这么说呢?”我问她。

“因为你的任何评价我都会相信。”她回答得很爽快。

从这些话里我看出她天性真诚,会毫无保留地相信他人。

过了一会儿,我们按计划坐马车出去,然而我必须承认比起费尔利小姐的画,我对她的言谈更感兴趣。我很快意识到自己的表现与其说像绘画教师不如说更像客人。自己一个人的时候,我感到有些不自在,对自己不满意。

晚饭的时候,这些感觉很快消失了。吃罢晚饭,我们来到一间大客厅,这里装有通往花园的玻璃门。维西夫人在扶手椅上睡着了,哈尔库姆小姐在翻阅她母亲的信件。在我的请求下,费尔利小姐弹起了钢琴。

这样安逸的情景我怎能忘记呢?屋外的鲜花,莫扎特的音乐,哈尔库姆小姐在微暗的光线下读信的样子,费尔利小姐映在昏暗的墙壁上的美丽侧脸,今晚这一切声音和情景都令人难以忘怀。

过了一会儿,费尔利小姐弹完了琴,走进月光下的花园。哈尔库姆小姐叫我。

“哈特里特先生,你能过来一下吗?”

我走过去,她递给我一封信。

“这是妈妈12年前写给她第二个丈夫的信。信中提到从汉普郡来的凯瑟里克太太,她是来照料住在村子里生病的妹妹的。她好像把她的独生女儿小安妮带来了,安妮比劳拉大1岁左右。当时我在巴黎读书,妈妈那时对村子里的学校非常感兴趣,她觉得小安妮学习比较吃力,就在家里辅导她。妈妈还把劳拉的一些白连衣裙和帽子送给她,说安妮穿白色衣服最好看。她说安妮·凯瑟里克很感激,也很喜欢她。一天,她吻过妈妈的手,说:‘我一辈子都会穿白色衣服,因为白色让我永远记着你。’”

哈尔库姆小姐停下来看着我,问道:

“你那天晚上碰到的那个女人,是不是只有二十二三岁的样子?”

“没错,哈尔库姆小姐,差不多那么大。”

“她是不是从头到脚都穿白色?”

“的确都是白色的。”

从我坐的地方可以看到费尔利小姐在花园中散步,月光下她的白色连衣裙突然间使我的心跳加快了。

“听听妈妈在信的末尾是怎么说的,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“你一定会感到吃惊的。她说她之所以那么喜欢小安妮·凯瑟里克,可能是因为她长得特别像——”

没等她说完,我一下子跳了起来。外面站着费尔利小姐,月光下一个孤零零的白色身影,猛然间我明白了我没有想起来的是什么了——就是劳拉·费尔利小姐同从精神病院跑出来的白衣女人惊人地相似。

“你看出来了!”哈尔库姆小姐说,“和妈妈一样,她多年前也看出了她们之间惊人的相似。”

“是的,”我说,“但是我非常不愿意把那个孤独无依的女人同费尔利小姐联系起来,即使这全是出于偶然,也让我内心不安。我不想再想这件事。还是叫她进来吧,那月光太可怕了!”

“我们不要对劳拉讲任何有关相貌相似的事,”她说,“这是我们之间的秘密。”说完,她招呼费尔利小姐进屋来,让她再弹一首曲子。就这样,我在利默里奇不平凡的第一天结束了。

*  *  *

日子一天天、一个星期又一个星期地过去了,夏季已被金秋取代。这是宁静而快乐的季节,然而,我最终还是必须向自己承认对费尔利小姐的感觉。

我爱上了她。

作为师生,每天我都和她那么接近,这很危险。很多次,在低头翻看写生簿的时候,我们的手和脸几乎要碰到,我可以闻到她头发的香味。我本应与她保持教师与学生应有的距离,我和过去教过的学生都是这样。但是我现在没有,而且已经来不及了。

来坎伯兰郡的第三个月,我已经完全沉浸在爱的幻想中,对将要到来的危险一无所知。第一个危险的信号终于来了——而且就来自于。一夜之间,她对我的态度发生了变化,她对我有一种拘束的疏离感,还有一种莫名的哀伤。我当时的痛苦无法言表。不过后来我才知道她是因为发现了我的感受,也发现了她自己的感受才有这样的变化。这种变化还反映在哈尔库姆小姐身上,她虽然没跟我说什么,但是开始经常注视着我。这种可怕的新状况一直持续到将近第三个月末的一个星期四。最后,理智、勇敢的哈尔库姆小姐帮我得到了解脱。

“能占用你一点儿时间吗?”早饭后她这样问我,“我们去花园走走好吗?”

我们来到凉亭,走了进去。哈尔库姆小姐转向我;“哈特里特先生,我要向你说的话在这儿可以说了。我知道你是一位举止得体的好人,你跟我讲的关于伦敦那个不幸女人的事证明了这一点。但是,作为你的朋友,我必须告诉你,我发现了你对我妹妹劳拉的感情。除了表现得有些软弱,你没做错什么,不过我还是必须劝你在造成伤害之前离开利默里奇庄园。我还有些事要告诉你,可能会让你痛苦。你能不能先和你的朋友玛丽安·哈尔库姆握握手?”

她说得非常诚恳,我握了握她的手。

“你必须离开这里,因为劳拉·费尔利就要结婚了。”

最后那个词就像一颗子弹一样穿过我的胸膛。我的脸色苍白,全身冰冷。就因为这一个词,我所有的希望都消失了。

“你必须在这里结束这段感情,就在你们初次相识的地方。我不会对你有任何隐瞒,她不是为了爱才结婚,而是因为她在她父亲临终时做的承诺。她要嫁的人下星期一到这里。”

“我今天就走,”我难过地说,“越快越好。”

“不,不要今天走。那样会让别人觉得奇怪。等到明天邮差来了再走。你就跟费尔利先生说收到了坏消息,必须马上回伦敦去。”

“我按你说的做,哈尔库姆小姐,”我伤心地说,“不过,你能告诉我同费尔利小姐订婚的先生是谁吗?”

“是汉普郡的一个有钱人。”

汉普郡!又一个和安妮·凯瑟里克有关的线索!

“他叫什么?”我尽量平静地问。

“珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士。”

爵士!我想起安妮·凯瑟里克问过的有关准男爵的问题。“他是准男爵吗?”我的声音有些颤抖。

她停了一停,说道:“对,他是准男爵。”

3
The unsigned letter

As I sat alone in my room later that morning, my thoughts crowded in on me. There was no reason at all for me to connect Sir Percival Glyde with the man who had made Anne Catherick so afraid — but I did. My suffering was great, but even greater was my feeling that some terrible, invisible danger lay ahead of us. Then I heard a knock at my door. It was Miss Halcombe.

'Mr Hartright, I am sorry to disturb you, but you are the only person who can advise me. A letter has just arrived for Miss Fairlie — a horrible, unsigned letter, warning her not to marry Sir Percival Glyde. It has upset my sister very much. Should I try to find out who wrote it or wait to speak to Mr Gilmore, Mr Fairlie's legal adviser, who arrives tomorrow?'

She gave me the letter. There was no greeting, no signature.

Do you believe in dreams, Miss Fairlie? Last night I dreamt I saw you in your white wedding dress in a church, so pretty, so innocent. By your side stood a man with the scar of an old wound on his right hand — a handsome man, but with a black, evil heart; a man who has brought misery to many, and who will bring misery to you. And in my dream I cried for you. Find out the past life of this man, Miss Fairlie, before you marry him. I send you this warning, because your mother was my first, my best, my only friend.

These last words suggested an idea to me, which I was afraid to mention. Was I in danger of losing my balance of mind? Why should everything lead back to the woman in white?

'I think a woman wrote this letter,' said Miss Halcombe. 'It certainly refers to Sir Percival — I remember that scar. What should I do, Mr Hartright? This mystery must be solved. Mr Gilmore is coming to discuss the financial details of Miss Fairlie's marriage, and Sir Percival arrives on Monday to fix the date of the marriage — though Miss Fairlie does not know this yet.'

The date of the marriage! Those words filled me with jealous despair. Perhaps there was some truth in this letter. If I could find the writer, perhaps I would find a way to prove that Sir Percival Glyde was not the honest man he seemed.

'I think we should begin enquiries at once,' I said. 'The longer we delay, the harder it will be to find out anything.'

We questioned the servants and learnt that the letter had been delivered by an elderly woman, who had then disappeared in the direction of the village. People in Limmeridge remembered seeing the woman, but no one could tell us who she was or where she had come from. Finally, I suggested asking the school teacher. As we approached the school door, we could hear the teacher shouting at one of the boys, saying angrily that there were no such things as ghosts. It was an awkward moment, but we went in anyway and asked our question. The teacher could tell us nothing. However, as we turned to leave, Miss Halcombe spoke to the boy standing in the corner:

'Are you the foolish boy who was talking about ghosts?'

'Yes, Miss. But I saw one! I saw it yesterday, in the churchyard. I did! It was — it was the ghost of Mrs Fairlie!'

His answer visibly shocked Miss Halcombe, and the teacher quickly stepped in to explain that the silly boy had said he had seen (or probably imagined) a woman in white standing next to Mrs Fairlie's grave as he passed the churchyard yesterday evening. There was nothing more to it than that.

'What is your opinion of this?' Miss Halcombe asked me as we went out of the school.

'The boy may have seen someone,' I said, 'but not a ghost. I think we should examine the grave. I have this suspicion, Miss Halcombe, that the writer of the letter and the imagined ghost in the churchyard might be the same person.'

She stopped, turned pale, and looked at me. 'What person?'

'Anne Catherick,' I replied. 'The woman in white.'

'I don't know why, but your suspicion frightens me,' she said slowly. 'I will show you the grave, and then I must go back to Laura. We'll meet again at the house later.'

In the churchyard I examined Mrs Fairlie's grave carefully, and noticed that the gravestone had been partly cleaned. Perhaps the person who had done the cleaning would return to finish the job. I decided to come back that evening and watch. Back at the house I explained my plan to Miss Halcombe, who seemed uneasy but made no objection. So, as the sun began to go down, I walked to the churchyard, chose my position, and waited.

After about half an hour I heard footsteps. Then two women passed in front of me and walked to the grave. One wore a long cloak with a hood over her head, hiding her face. Below the cloak a little of her dress was visible — a white dress. The other woman said something to her companion, and then walked away round the corner of the church, leaving the woman in the cloak next to the grave. After looking all around her, she took out a cloth, kissed the white cross and started to clean it.

I approached her slowly and carefully, but when she saw me, she jumped up and looked at me in terror.

There, in front of me, was the face of the woman in white.

'Don't be frightened,' I said. 'Surely you remember me?' Her eyes searched my face. 'I helped you to find the way to London,' I went on. 'Surely you have not forgotten that?'

Her face relaxed as she recognized me, and she sighed in relief. Before this, I had seen her likeness in Miss Fairlie. Now I saw Miss Fairlie's likeness in her. Except that Miss Fairlie's delicate beauty was missing from this tired face, and I could not help thinking that if ever sorrow and suffering fell on Miss Fairlie, then, and only then, they would be the living reflections of one another. It was a horrible thought.

Gently, I began to question her. I told her that I knew she had escaped from an asylum, and that I was glad I had helped her. But had she found her friend in London that night?

'Oh yes. That was Mrs Clements, who is here with me now. She was our neighbour in Hampshire, and took care of me when I was a little girl. She has always been my friend.'

'Have you no father or mother to take care of you?'

'I never saw my father — I never heard mother speak of him. And I don't get on well with her. I'd rather be with Mrs Clements, who is kind, like you.'

I learnt that she was staying with relations of Mrs Clements at a farm, three miles from the village, but there were other, harder questions I wanted to ask. Who had shut her away in an asylum? Her 'unkind' mother, perhaps? What was her motive in writing the letter to Miss Fairlie, accusing Sir Percival Glyde? Was it revenge? What wrong had Sir Percival done her?

She was easily frightened, easily confused, and could only hold one idea in her mind at a time. I tried not to alarm her. Had she ever, I asked, been wronged by a man and then abandoned? Her innocent, puzzled face told me that was not the answer.

All the time we were talking she was cleaning the gravestone with her cloth.

'Mrs Fairlie was my best friend,' she murmured. 'And her daughter...' She looked up at me, then away again, as though hiding her face in guilt. 'Is Miss Fairlie well and happy?' she whispered anxiously.

I decided to try and surprise a confession from her. 'She was not well or happy this morning, after receiving your letter. You wrote it, didn't you? It was wrong to send such a letter.'

Her face went deathly pale. Then she bent down and kissed the gravestone. 'Oh, Mrs Fairlie! Mrs Fairlie! Tell me how to save your daughter. Tell me what to do.'

'You mention no names in the letter, but Miss Fairlie knows that the person you describe is Sir Percival Glyde —'

The moment I said his name she gave such a scream of terror that my blood ran cold. Her face, now full of fear and hatred, told me everything. Without doubt the person who had shut her away in the asylum was Sir Percival Glyde.

At the sound of her scream, Mrs Clements came running and, looking angrily at me, said, 'What is it, my dear? What has this man done to you?'

'Nothing,' the poor girl said. 'He was good to me once. He helped me...' She whispered the rest in her friend's ear.

Then Mrs Clements put her arm round Anne Catherick and led her away. I watched them go, feeling great pity for that poor, pale, frightened face.

Half an hour later I was back at the house, and the story I told Miss Halcombe made her very worried.

'I am certain Sir Percival Glyde put Anne Catherick in the asylum,' I said. 'But why? What is the connection between them?'

'We must find out,' said Miss Halcombe. 'We will go to the farm tomorrow, and I will speak to Anne Catherick myself.'

*  *  *

The first thing I had to do the next morning was to ask Mr Fairlie if I could leave my job a month early. As his nerves were particularly bad, I could not speak to him directly but had to write a note, explaining that some unexpected news forced me to return to London. In reply I received a most unpleasant letter, informing me that I could go. Once, such a letter would have upset me greatly; now, I no longer cared.

Later Miss Halcombe and I walked to the farm, and Miss Halcombe went in while I waited nearby. To my surprise, she returned after only a few minutes.

'Does Anne Catherick refuse to see you?' I asked.

'Anne Catherick has gone,' replied Miss Halcombe. 'She left this morning, with Mrs Clements. The farmer's wife, Mrs Todd, has no idea why they left or where they went. She just said that Anne Catherick had been disturbed after reading something in the local newspaper a couple of days ago. I looked at the paper and saw that it mentioned Laura's future wedding. Then Mrs Todd said that Anne Catherick fainted last night, apparently in shock at something mentioned by one of the servant girls from our house, who was visiting the farm on her evening off.'

We hurried back to the house to question the servant girl. Miss Halcombe asked her if she had mentioned Sir Percival Glyde's name while at the farm. 'Oh yes,' the girl replied. 'I said he was coming on Monday.'

At that moment a cab arrived and Mr Gilmore, the family friend and legal adviser, got out. He was an elderly man, pleasant-looking and neatly dressed. Miss Halcombe introduced me, and then went away to discuss family matters with him. I wandered out into the garden. My time at Limmeridge House was nearly at an end, and I wanted to say a last goodbye to the places where I had so often walked with Miss Fairlie, in the dream-time of my happiness and my love. But the autumn day was grey and damp, and those golden memories were already fading.

As I returned to the house, I met Mr Gilmore.

'Ah, Mr Hartright,' he said. 'Miss Halcombe has told me how helpful you have been about this strange letter received by Miss Fairlie. I want you to know that the investigation is now in my safe hands. I have written to Sir Percival Glyde's lawyer in London and I'm sure we will receive a satisfactory explanation.'

'I'm afraid I am not so sure as you,' was my reply.

'Well, well,' said Mr Gilmore. 'We will wait for events.'

At dinner that evening — my last dinner at Limmeridge House — it was a hard battle to keep my self-control. I saw that it was not easy for Miss Fairlie, either. She gave me her hand as she had done in happier days, but her fingers trembled and her face was pale. Mr Gilmore kept the conversation going, and afterwards we went into the sitting room as usual. Miss Fairlie sat at the piano.

'Shall I play some of those pieces by Mozart that you like? Will you sit in your old chair near me?' she asked nervously.

'As it is my last night, I will,' I answered.

'I am very sorry you are going,' she said, almost in a whisper.

'I shall remember those kind words, Miss Fairlie, long after tomorrow has gone,' I replied.

'Don't speak about tomorrow.'

Then she played, and at last it was time to say goodnight.

The next morning I found Miss Halcombe and Miss Fairlie waiting for me downstairs. When I began to speak, Miss Fairlie turned and hurried from the room. I tried to control my voice, but could only say, 'Will you write to me, Miss Halcombe?'

She took both my hands in hers, and her face grew beautiful with the force of her generosity and pity. 'Of course I will, Walter. Goodbye — and God bless you!'

She left, and a few seconds later Miss Fairlie returned, holding something. It was her own sketch of the summer-house where we had first met. With tears in her eyes, she offered it to me,' to remind you', she whispered. My own tears fell as I kissed her hand, then I turned to go. She sank into a chair, her head dropped on her arms. At that moment I knew that Laura Fairlie loved me too. But it was over. We were separated.


crowd v. come together in a crowd 聚集;集中

invisible adj. not visible to the eye 看不见的

jealous adj. afraid, suspicious or resentful of rivalry in love or affection 嫉妒的

deliver v. distribute letters to the addressee

approach v. come near or nearer to a place 接近;靠近

examine v. look closely at 仔细地看

objection n. an expression or feeling of opposition or disapproval 反对;不同意

terror n. extreme fear 恐惧;恐怖

relax v. become less rigid or tense 放松

recognize v. identify a person an already known 认出来

relation n. a member of one's family 亲戚;亲属

motive n. factor or circumstance that induces a person to act on a particular way 动机

revenge n. retaliation for an offence or injury 复仇

abandon v. forsake or desert 抛弃

scream n. a loud high-pitched cry expressing fear, pain etc. 惊叫;尖叫

faint v. lose consciousness 失去知觉;晕倒

fade v. diminish 减退

sink v. settle down 坐下

3.匿名信件

那天上午,我一个人坐在房间里,思绪异常纷乱。我本来没有任何理由把珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士和那个让安妮·凯瑟里克害怕的人联系起来——但我的确把他们连在了一起。我很痛苦,但也强烈地感到将有看不见的可怕危险到来。这时,我听到有人敲门,来的是哈尔库姆小姐。

“哈特里特先生,很抱歉打扰你,可是只有你能给我出个主意了。刚收到一封给费尔利小姐的信——一封可怕的匿名信,警告她不要和珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士结婚。这封信让妹妹非常不安。我是应该查一下谁写的信,还是等明天费尔利先生的法律顾问吉尔摩先生来了问问他?”

她把信递给我,上面没有问候语,也没有签名。


你相信梦吗,费尔利小姐?昨天夜里我梦见你穿着白色婚纱站在教堂里,你是那么漂亮,那么纯洁。你身边站着一个右手有旧伤疤的男人,他面容英俊,但内心邪恶,他曾让许多人痛苦,也会让你痛苦。在梦里我为你哭泣。费尔利小姐,弄清这个人的过去再同他结婚。我之所以给你如此的忠告是因为你的母亲是我第一个朋友,也是最好的、唯一的朋友。


信的最后几个字让我想到了一件事,但我不敢说出来。是不是我脑子出了问题?为什么所有的事情都指向那个白衣女人?

“我认为这封信是一个女人写的,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“信里说的肯定是珀西瓦尔爵士,我记得他的那条疤。我该怎么办,哈特里特先生?这个谜一定得解开。吉尔摩先生要来谈费尔利小姐婚事的财务细节,珀西瓦尔爵士星期一来确定结婚的日期——不过费尔利小姐还不知道。”

结婚的日期!这些字眼使我又嫉妒又绝望。也许这封信里有些话是真的。如果我能找到写信人,也许会有办法证明珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士并不像他外表看起来那样正直。

“我觉得我们应该马上开始调查,”我说,“耽误的时间越长,越难找到线索。”

我们问了仆人,得知信是一个上了年纪的女人送来的,那女人朝村子的方向走去,很快就消失了。利默里奇庄园的人说记得见过那个女人,但没人知道她是谁,从哪里来。最后我建议去问一问学校的老师。快到学校门口的时候,我们听见老师正大声训斥一个学生说根本就没有什么鬼。这是个尴尬的时刻,但我们还是进去向老师提出了我们的问题。老师没能告诉我们任何信息。然而,在我们转身离开时,哈尔库姆小姐对站在角落的男孩说:

“你就是说有鬼的那个傻孩子?”

“是的,小姐。可我真的看到了!昨天在教堂的墓地里看见的。我真的看见了!那鬼是……是费尔利夫人!”

孩子的话显然令哈尔库姆小姐非常吃惊。老师马上走过来解释说这傻孩子说他昨天晚上路过教堂墓地的时候,看见(或是想象)一个穿白衣服的女人站在费尔利夫人的墓旁。我们得到的消息就是这些。

“你怎么看这件事?”走出学校,哈尔库姆小姐问我。

“那男孩可能看见了什么人,”我说,“但不是鬼。我想我们应该去看看那墓地。我怀疑,哈尔库姆小姐,写信的人和那个教堂墓地里假想出来的鬼可能是同一个人。”

她停住了脚步,脸色煞白,两只眼睛紧盯着我,“那人是谁?”

“安妮·凯瑟里克,”我回答,“那个白衣女人。”

“我不知道为什么,但是你的怀疑让我很害怕,”她缓慢地说,“我带你去墓地,然后我得回去看看劳拉。我们庄园再见。”

在教堂墓地里,我仔细察看了费尔利夫人的坟墓,发现墓碑有一部分被人擦洗过。也许那人会回来继续擦洗。我决定晚上再回来看看。回到庄园,我把想法告诉了哈尔库姆小姐,她看上去有些不安,但没有表示反对。于是,太阳刚开始落山,我就走路到了教堂墓地,找了个地方,开始等待。

大约半小时后,我听到了脚步声。接着,两个女人从我前面走过,向坟墓走去。其中一个穿着斗篷,兜帽遮住了她的脸。斗篷下面可以看到一点儿她的裙角——白色的裙子。另一个女人跟她说了些什么,然后转过墙角走了。穿斗篷的女人来到坟墓旁,向周围仔细看了看,然后掏出一块布,吻了一下白色的十字架,开始擦洗墓碑。

我小心翼翼地慢慢走近那女人,她看见我后,一下子跳起来,惊恐地望着我。

出现在我眼前的正是那白衣女人的脸。

“别害怕,”我说,“你肯定记得我吧?”她打量着我的脸。“是我指给你通往伦敦的路,你肯定没忘吧?”我接着说。

她认出我以后,长出了一口气,脸上的表情也放松了。在此之前,我曾看出她和费尔利小姐的相像之处,现在我看出费尔利小姐和她的相像之处。只不过费尔利小姐的精致美丽在这张疲惫的脸上看不出来。我不禁想到,假如不幸和痛苦降临到费尔利小姐头上,她们俩就真的一模一样了。这是个可怕的想法。

我开始和缓地向她提问。我告诉她我知道她是从精神病院逃出来的,也很高兴帮助了她。不过,那天晚上她找到伦敦的朋友了吗?

“噢,找到了。就是克莱门茨太太。她现在跟我在一起。她是我们在汉普郡的邻居,我小的时候就是她照顾我。她一直是我的朋友。”

“你没有父母照顾你吗?”

“我从没见过父亲——也从没听母亲说起过他。我同母亲关系不好。我宁愿同克莱门茨太太在一起。她心地善良,就像你一样。”

我了解到她和克莱门茨太太的亲戚住在离村子3英里远的农场里,但是我还想问一些更尖锐的问题。是谁把她关进了精神病院?是对她“不好”的母亲吗?她为什么要给费尔利小姐写信指责珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士?是复仇吗?珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士做了什么对不起她的事呢?

她特别容易受惊吓,容易思绪紊乱,只能一次考虑一个问题。我尽量不惊吓她。我问她是不是有个男人做了对不起她的事,而后抛弃了她?她单纯、疑惑的表情告诉我答案是否定的。

我们交谈的过程中,她一直在用布擦拭墓碑。

“费尔利夫人是我最好的朋友,”她小声说,“她女儿……”她抬头看看我,然后又转过头去,像是由于羞愧而不愿见人,“费尔利小姐好吗?快乐吗?”她急切地轻声问。

我决定给她一个突然袭击,看是否可以让她说出真相。“她今天早上收到你的信以后很不好,很不快乐。是你写的信,对吗?你不该写那样的信。”

她的脸变得像死人一般苍白。她低下头,吻了吻墓碑,“噢,费尔利夫人!费尔利夫人!告诉我怎么才能救你的女儿。告诉我该怎么做。”

“你在信里没有提到任何人的名字,但是费尔利小姐明白你说的那个人是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士——”

我说出这个名字的时候,她害怕得惊叫起来,那叫声让我全身发冷。她的脸上充满了恐惧和仇恨,这表情说明了一切。毫无疑问,把她关进精神病院的人就是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士。

听到惊叫声,克莱门茨太太跑过来,气愤地看了看我,说:“怎么啦,亲爱的?他对你怎么啦?”

“没事,”可怜的姑娘说,“他以前帮过我,他帮我……”下面的话她跟克莱门茨太太耳语着。

然后,克莱门茨太太挽着安妮·凯瑟里克,带她走了。我望着她们远去的背影,心中充满了对那可怜姑娘的同情,她的脸色是那样苍白,那样惊恐。

半小时后,我回到了庄园。我把事情经过告诉哈尔库姆小姐后,她显得非常担心。

“我敢肯定是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士把安妮·凯瑟里克关进精神病院的,”我说,“可是他为什么这样做呢?他们之间是什么关系呢?”

“我们必须搞清楚,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“明天我们去农场,我要亲自同安妮·凯瑟里克谈谈。”

*  *  *

第二天我要做的第一件事是请求费尔利先生允许我提前一个月结束在这里的工作。因为他的精神非常不好,我不能同他直接谈,只能写一封短信,说明我收到一些意外的消息,必须回伦敦去。很快我收到一封很不客气的回信,通知我可以离开。要是过去,这样的信会让我非常沮丧,可是现在我不在乎了。

随后,哈尔库姆小姐和我步行到农场去。她进去的时候我在附近等她。令我吃惊的是没几分钟她就出来了。

“是不是安妮·凯瑟里克拒绝见你?”我问。

“安妮·凯瑟里克已经走了,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“今天早上,她同克莱门茨太太一起走的。农场主的妻子托德太太不清楚她们为什么要走,也不知道她们到哪里去了。她只告诉我几天前安妮·凯瑟里克看了当地报纸上的什么消息后,就一直心神不安。我看了那份报纸,上面提到了劳拉将要举行的婚礼。托德太太说安妮·凯瑟里克昨晚晕倒了,原因很明显,我们庄园一个女仆带来的消息吓到了她,那个女仆昨晚放假来农场做客。”

我们马上回到庄园向那个女仆了解情况。哈尔库姆小姐问她,在农场的时候是不是提到了珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士的名字。“对,提到了,”女仆回答,“我说他星期一要来庄园。”

这个时候,一辆马车停在了门口,这家的老朋友和法律顾问吉尔摩先生从车里走下来。他是一位慈眉善目、穿着考究的老人。哈尔库姆小姐为我做了引见,然后就和吉尔摩先生去谈有关家里的事务了。我走进了外面的花园。我在利默里奇庄园的日子很快就要结束了,我想同这里的一切道个别。在这个花园里,我多少次和费尔利小姐散步,这是我享受幸福,享受爱情的地方。秋日的天灰蒙蒙的,空气很潮湿,那些甜美的记忆已经开始褪色。

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我回到屋里以后,见到了吉尔摩先生。

“呵,哈特里特先生,”他对我说,“哈尔库姆小姐已经跟我说了费尔利小姐收到那封奇怪来信的事,你帮了很大的忙。我想告诉你,对这件事的调查我很有把握,我已经给珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士在伦敦的律师写了信,我相信我们会得到一个满意的答复的。”

“我倒不像你那么有把握。”我说。

“好吧,好吧,”吉尔摩先生说,“那我们就等等结果吧。”

那天吃晚饭的时候——我在利默里奇庄园的最后一次晚饭——我努力控制自己的情感。我看得出费尔利小姐也非常不自在。像以前快乐的日子里一样,她把手伸给我,但她的手指在颤抖,脸上没有一点血色。只有吉尔摩先生滔滔不绝地说这说那,之后大家像往常一样来到客厅。费尔利小姐坐到了钢琴旁。

“我弹几首你喜欢的莫扎特的曲子好吗?你还坐我旁边的椅子,好吗?”她神色不安地问我。

“这是我在这里的最后一个晚上了,我照你说的做。”我对她说。

“你要走了,我很难过。”她的声音低得几乎听不到。

“我会记住你的话,费尔利小姐,明天以后我会一直记着的。”我说。

“不要提明天。”

接下来她开始弹钢琴,最后到说晚安的时候了。

转天早晨,我看到哈尔库姆小姐和费尔利小姐在楼下等我。我刚要开口说话,费尔利小姐转身跑出了房间。我尽量控制着自己的声音,但只说了一句:“给我写信好吗,哈尔库姆小姐?”

她紧紧握住我的双手,她的慷慨和同情让她显得漂亮起来。“我当然会的,沃尔特。再见——愿上帝保佑你!”

她离开片刻后,费尔利小姐回来了,手里还拿着什么东西。那是她自己画的我们初次相见的凉亭。她眼里噙着泪水,把画递给我。“留个纪念吧。”她轻声说。我吻着她的手,眼泪禁不住流了下来。我转身离去。她一下子跌坐到椅子上,头垂到了手臂上。那一刻,我明白劳拉·费尔利也在爱着我。但是,一切都结束了,我们被分开了。

月下邂逅

PART ONE
THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
第一部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

1
A meeting by moonlight

It was the last day of July. The long hot summer was coming to an end, and I was feeling ill and depressed. I was also short of money, so I had little chance of escaping from the dusty London streets, and would have to spend the autumn economically between my rooms in the city and my mother's house.

My mother and my sister, Sarah, lived in a cottage in Hampstead, in the northern suburbs, and I usually went to see them twice a week. This evening I arrived at the gate of the cottage just as it was starting to get dark. I had hardly rung the bell before the door was opened violently, and my Italian friend, Professor Pesca, rushed out to greet me.

Pesca was a language teacher who had left Italy for political reasons and had made his home in England. He was a strange, excitable little man, who was always trying to be more English than the English. I had met him from time to time when he was teaching in the same houses as I was, and then one day I met him by chance in Brighton. We agreed to go for a swim together in the sea. He was very enthusiastic and it never for a moment occurred to me that he did not know how to swim! Fortunately, when he suddenly sank to the bottom, I was able to dive down and save him. From that day on he was my grateful friend, and that evening he showed his gratitude to me in a way that changed my whole life.

'Now, my good friends,' he said, when we were all in my mother's sitting-room. 'I have some wonderful news for you. I have been asked by my employer to recommend a drawing teacher for a post with a rich family in the north of England. And who do you think I have recommended? The best drawing teacher in the world — Mr Walter Hartright!'

'My dear Pesca! How good you are to Walter!' exclaimed my mother. 'How kind, how generous you are!'

As for myself, although I was certainly grateful for his kindness, I still felt strangely depressed. I thanked him warmly, however, and asked to see the conditions. The note he gave me said that a qualified drawing teacher was wanted by Mr Frederick Fairlie of Limmeridge House, Cumberland, to teach his two young nieces for a period of at least four months. The teacher was to live at Limmeridge House as a gentleman and receive four pounds a week. Letters to show he was of good character would be required.

The position was certainly an attractive one, and I could not understand why I felt so little enthusiasm for it. However, since my mother and sister thought it was a great opportunity, and I had no wish to hurt Pesca's feelings, I agreed to apply for the job.

The next morning I sent my letters of recommendation to the Professor's employer, and four days later I heard that Mr Fairlie accepted my services and requested me to start for Cumberland immediately. I arranged to leave the next day, and in the evening I walked to Hampstead to say goodbye to my mother and Sarah.

When I left them at midnight, a full moon was shining in a dark blue, starless sky, and the air was soft and warm. I decided to take the long route home, and walk across Hampstead Heath before joining the road into the centre of the city. After a while I came to a crossroads and turned onto the London road. I was lost in my own thoughts, wondering about the two young ladies in Cumberland, when suddenly, my heart seemed to stop beating. A hand had touched my shoulder from behind.

I turned at once, my hand tightening on my walking stick.

There, as if it had dropped from the sky, stood the figure of a woman, dressed from head to foot in white clothes. I was too surprised to speak.

'Is that the road into London?' she said.

I looked at her carefully. It was then nearly one o'clock. All I could see in the moonlight was a young colourless face, large sad eyes, and light brown hair. Her manner was quiet and self-controlled. What sort of woman she was, and why she was out so late alone, I could not guess. But there was nothing evil about her — indeed, a kind of sad innocence seemed to come from her.

'Did you hear me?' she said, quietly and rapidly.

'Yes,' I replied, 'that's the road. Please excuse me — I was rather surprised by your sudden appearance.'

'You don't suspect me of doing anything wrong, do you?'

'No, no, seeing you so suddenly gave me a shock, that's all.'

'I heard you coming,' she said, 'and hid behind those trees to see what sort of man you were, before I risked speaking. May I trust you?' Her eyes searched my face, anxiously.

Her loneliness and helplessness were so obvious that I felt great sympathy for her. 'Tell me how I can help you,' I said, 'and if I can, I will.'

'Oh, thank you, thank you. You are very kind.' Her voice trembled a little as she spoke. 'I don't know London at all. Can I get a cab or a carriage at this time of night? Could you show me where to get one, and will you promise not to interfere with me? I have a friend in London who will be glad to receive me. I want nothing else — will you promise?'

She looked nervously up and down the road, then back at me.

How could I refuse? Her fear and confusion were painful to see.

'Will you promise?' she repeated.

'Yes.'

We set off together towards the centre of London. It was like a dream — walking along that familiar road, with so strange and so mysterious a companion at my side.

'Do you know any men of the rank of Baronet in London?' she asked suddenly.

There was a note of suspicion in the strange question, and when I said I knew no Baronets, she seemed relieved. I questioned her further, and she murmured that she had been cruelly used by a Baronet she would not name. She told me she came from Hampshire and asked if I lived in London. I explained that I did, but that I was leaving for Cumberland the next day.

'Cumberland!' she repeated softly. 'Ah! I wish I was going there too. I was once happy in Cumberland, in Limmeridge village. I'd like to see Limmeridge House again.'

Limmeridge House! I stopped, amazed.

'What's wrong?' she asked anxiously. 'Did you hear anybody calling after us?'

'No, no. It's just that I heard the name of Limmeridge House very recently. Do you know somebody there?'

'I did once,' she said. 'But Mrs Fairlie is dead; and her husband is dead; and their little girl may be married and gone away...'

Perhaps she would have told me more, but just at that moment we saw a cab. I stopped it, and she quickly got in.

'Please,' I said, 'let me see you safely to your friend's house.'

'No, no,' she cried. 'I'm quite safe, and you must let me go. Remember your promise! But thank you — oh! thank you.'

She caught my hand in hers, kissed it, and pushed it away. The cab disappeared into the black shadows on the road — and the woman in white had gone.

Ten minutes later I was still on the same road, thinking uneasily about the whole adventure, when I heard wheels behind me. An open carriage with two men in it passed me, then stopped when they saw a policeman walking further down the street.

'Officer!' cried one of the men. 'Have you seen a woman pass this way? A woman in white clothes?'

'No, sir. Why? What has she done?'

'Done! She has escaped from my asylum.'

An asylum! But the woman had not seemed mad to me. Nervous, and a little strange, perhaps, but not mad. What had I done? Had I helped a woman wrongly imprisoned to escape? Or had I failed to protect a sick person who might come to harm? These disturbing thoughts kept me awake all night after I had got back to my rooms, until at last it was time to leave London and set out for Cumberland.

*  *  *

My travelling instructions directed me to Carlisle and then to change trains for Limmeridge. However, because of a long delay I missed my connection and did not get to Limmeridge till past ten. A servant in rather a bad temper was waiting for me at the station with a carriage and when I arrived at Limmeridge House everyone had gone to bed. I was shown to my room and when I at last put out the candle, I thought to myself, 'What shall I see in my dreams tonight? The woman in white? Or the unknown inhabitants of this Cumberland house?'


depressed adj. dispirited or miserable 无精打采的

economically adv. sparing in the use of resources 节俭地

violently adv. using aggressive physical force 用力地

gratitude n. a feeling of being grateful to someone because they have given you something or done something for you 感激之情;知恩图报之心

recommend v. suggest as fit for some purpose or use 推荐

exclaim v. cry out suddenly esp. in anger, surprise, pain etc. (出于气愤、惊讶、痛苦等)大喊;惊叫

character n. the collective qualities that distinguish a person or thing 特点;品行

apply for make a formal request for something to be done, given etc. 申请

be lost in be engrossed in 全神贯注于……

tighten v. make or become tight or tighter 握紧;攥紧

colourless adj. without colour 没有颜色的

suspect v. be inclined to accuse mentally 怀疑

shock n. a sudden disturbing effect 震惊;吃惊

companion n. a person who accompanies another 伙伴

baronet n. member of lowest British hereditary titled order 准男爵

relieved adj. freed from anxiety or distress 松了一口气

murmur v. utter in a low voice 低声说

adventure n. an unusual and exciting experience 不同寻常又令人兴奋的经历

asylum n. institution offering shelter and support to the mentally ill 精神病院

imprison v. put into prison 囚禁

inhabitant n. one who lives in a place 居住者

1.月下邂逅

那是7月的最后一天。漫长、炎热的夏季已经接近尾声,但我觉得身体不太舒服,心情也有些压抑。我没什么钱,不大可能离开尘土飞扬的伦敦,只得在伦敦的住处和母亲的家中将就这个秋天了。

母亲和妹妹萨拉住在伦敦北郊汉普斯特德的一所小房子里,我每星期会去看她们两次。今天我到那里的时候,天已经快黑了。刚一按门铃,我的意大利朋友,佩斯卡教授就用力打开了门,箭步冲出来迎接我。

佩斯卡由于政治原因从意大利来到英国,在这里做语言教师,安顿了下来。他个头不高,性格古怪而天真,极力表现出比英国人还地道的英国做派。我曾经和他在几个家庭里同为家庭教师,所以经常见面。有一天,我在布赖顿碰到他,两人说好一同到海滨游泳。他当时非常兴奋,我根本没想到他竟然不会游泳!幸好他突然沉下去的时候,我潜进水里把他救了上来。从那以后,他对我感激不尽,我们成了朋友,而这天晚上他的感恩之举改变了我的一生。

大家齐聚客厅时,他说:“嘿,朋友们,我有一个好消息要告诉你们。我的东家让我为英格兰北部一个富有的人家推荐一名绘画教师。你们猜我推荐了谁?我推荐的是世界上最好的绘画教师——沃尔特·哈特里特先生!”

“亲爱的佩斯卡,你对沃尔特真是太好了!”母亲说道。“你真是好心又慷慨!”

我本人也很感激他的好意,但是总觉得有一种莫名的不安。不过我还是热情地跟他道谢,向他打听一些具体情况。他给我的条子上说坎伯兰郡利默里奇庄园的弗雷德里克·费尔利先生要聘请一位优秀的绘画教师,教他的两个侄女画画,聘期至少四个月。受聘教师将住在利默里奇庄园,薪水是一星期4英镑。应聘教师必须出具品行良好的证明信。

这的确是一份令人心动的工作,但不知为什么我就是兴奋不起来。不管怎样,既然母亲和妹妹都认为这是个好机会,我也不愿伤害佩斯卡的感情,于是我答应应聘。

转天早晨,我把推荐信寄给佩斯卡的雇主,四天之后传来消息说,费尔利先生接受了我的应聘,要我立即动身前往坎伯兰郡。我做好了第二天动身的准备,晚上步行到汉普斯特德向母亲和妹妹道别。

离开她们已是子夜时分,深蓝的天空满月高悬,看不见一颗星星,空气温暖宜人。我决定走那条稍远一点儿的路回家,先穿过汉普斯特德荒地,再走通往市中心的那条路。不一会儿,我来到十字路口,踏上了通向伦敦的大路。我满脑子在想着坎伯兰郡两位小姐的事,突然一只手从后面拍了拍我的肩膀,吓得我心跳都快停止了。

我猛地转过身,攥紧了手杖。

我眼前站着一个白衣女人,仿佛从天而降。我惊得一句话也说不出来。

“那条路是去伦敦的吗?”那女人开口问道。

我仔细打量着她。这时已将近凌晨1点了。借着月光我只能看出一张年轻却没有血色的脸,一对哀伤的大眼睛和淡棕色的头发。她看上去镇定自若。我猜不出她是个什么样的女人,这么晚了为什么孤身一人在外面。可是她看上去没有恶意,实际上还流露出一丝哀伤和纯真。

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“你听见我说话了吗?”她很快地轻声说。

“是的,”我赶忙回答,“是那条路。请原谅,你出现得太突然,吓了我一跳。”

“你不会怀疑我在做什么坏事吧?”

“不,不是。只不过突然看到你,吓了一跳。”

“我听到你走过来,”她说,“就先躲在树后看你是什么样的人,然后才敢同你说话的。我能信赖你吗?”她不安地看着我的脸。

她看起来实在是非常孤独和无助,这大大地激起了我的同情。“说吧,我能为你做什么,”我说,“只要我能做的,一定帮忙。”

“哦,谢谢,谢谢。你真是个好人。”她的声音有些颤抖,“我对伦敦一无所知,这时候还有出租马车吗?你能告诉我哪里能找辆车吗?你能保证不要多问吗?我在伦敦有朋友,她会帮我的,就是这样——你能保证吗?”

她神色紧张地朝大路张望,然后又回头看我。

我怎么能够拒绝呢?她紧张而慌乱的样子令人不安。

“你能保证吗?”她再一次问。

“我保证。”

我们一起朝伦敦市中心走去。这真像是一场梦——走在熟悉的路上,身旁多了一位陌生、神秘的同路人。

“你认识伦敦有准男爵爵位的人吗?”她突然问我。

从这个奇怪的问题可以看出她对我还是有所怀疑,当我告诉她我一个准男爵也不认识时,她似乎才松了一口气。我进一步追问,她低声告诉我一个准男爵害过她,她不愿说出他的名字。她说她从汉普郡来,问我是否住在伦敦。我告诉她我是住在伦敦,但天一亮就要去坎伯兰郡了。

“坎伯兰郡!”她轻声重复着,“啊,我要是也能去那儿就好了。我曾在坎伯兰郡的利默里奇村度过一段快乐的时光,真想再看一看利默里奇庄园。”

利默里奇庄园!我停住脚步,感到很惊讶。

“怎么啦?”她急切地问,“你听到我们后面有人在喊吗?”

“不,不是。因为我最近听说过利默里奇庄园,你认识那里的什么人吗?”

“以前认识,”她回答,“不过费尔利夫人已经死了,她丈夫也死了,他们的小女儿可能已经结婚离开了那里。”

若不是看见一辆出租马车,她也许会告诉我更多的事情。我叫住马车,她很快上了车。

我说:“还是让我把你平平安安地送到朋友家吧。”

“不,不,”她大声说,“我现在很安全,你就让我自己走吧。你答应过我的!谢谢你,谢谢。”

她抓住我的手,吻了一下,然后推开。马车的影子消失在夜幕中的大路上——白衣女人也不见了。

十分钟后,我还走在同一条路上,回想着刚才发生的怪事,忽然身后传来车轮的声音。两个人坐着敞篷马车从我身边经过,他们看见路上有个警察在巡逻,就停下车来。

“警官!”一个人说,“你看没看见一个女人从这条路上走过,一个穿白衣服的女人?”

“没有,先生。怎么啦?她做了什么?”

“做了什么!她从精神病院跑出来了。”

精神病院!可是我不觉得那个女人是疯子。她神色紧张,有点儿怪,但并不疯。我究竟做了什么?是帮助一个被无端关进精神病院的女人逃跑了?还是没有看管好一个可能伤害别人的病人?这些问题让我回到家后心神不定,难以入睡,直到该起床动身前往坎伯兰郡了,还是没有睡着。

*  *  *

我的行程安排是先到卡莱尔,然后换乘开往利默里奇的火车,可是由于去卡莱尔的车晚点了许多,我没有赶上转乘的车,直到10点多才到利默里奇。一个脾气很差的仆人赶了一辆马车在车站等我,到利默里奇庄园的时候,那儿的人都已经睡了。我被带到了房间,最后吹熄蜡烛睡觉的时候,我想:“今晚我会梦见谁呢?那个白衣女人?还是坎伯兰郡这个庄园里的陌生人?”

2
Life at Limmeridge House

When I got up the next morning, I was greeted by bright sunlight and a view of blue sea through the window. The future suddenly seemed full of promise. I found my way down to the breakfast-room and there, looking out of a window with her back turned to me, was a young woman with a perfect figure. But when she turned and walked towards me, I saw to my surprise that her face was ugly. Hair grew on her upper lip, and her mouth was large and firm. It was almost a man's face, but the friendly smile she gave me softened it and made her look more womanly. She welcomed me in a pleasant, educated voice and introduced herself as Marian Halcombe, Miss Fairlie's half-sister.

'My mother was twice married,' she explained, in her easy, friendly manner. 'The first time to Mr Halcombe, my father, and the second time to Mr Fairlie, my half-sister's father. My father was a poor man, and Miss Fairlie's father was a rich man. I've got nothing, and she has a fortune. I'm dark and ugly, and she's fair and pretty.' She said all this quite happily. 'My sister and I are very fond of each other, so you must please both of us, Mr Hartright, or please neither of us.'

She then told me that Miss Fairlie had a headache that morning and was being looked after by Mrs Vesey, an elderly lady who had once been Miss Fairlie's governess.

'So we shall be alone at breakfast, Mr Hartright,' she said. 'As for Mr Fairlie, your employer, you will doubtless meet him later. He is Miss Fairlie's uncle, a single man, who became Miss Fairlie's guardian when her parents died. He suffers from some mysterious illness of the nerves, and never leaves his rooms.'

While we ate breakfast, she described the quiet, regular life that she and her sister led. 'Do you think you will get used to it?' she said. 'Or will you be restless, and wish for some adventure?'

Hearing the word 'adventure' reminded me of my meeting with the woman in white, and her reference to Mrs Fairlie. I told Miss Halcombe all about my adventure, and she showed an eager interest, especially in the mention of her mother.

'But you didn't find out the woman's name?' she said.

'I'm afraid not. Only that she came from Hampshire.'

'Well, I shall spend the morning,' said Miss Halcombe, 'looking through my mother's letters. I'm sure I will find some clues there to explain this mystery. Lunch is at two o'clock, Mr Hartright, and I shall introduce you to my sister then.'

After breakfast Mr Fairlie's personal servant, Louis, came to tell me that Mr Fairlie would like to see me. I followed the servant upstairs and was shown into a large room full of art treasures. There, in an armchair, sat a small, pale, delicate-looking man of about fifty. Despite his fine clothes and the valuable rings on his soft white fingers, there was something very unattractive about him.

'So glad to have you here, Mr Hartright,' he said in a high, complaining voice. 'Please sit down, but don't move the chair. In my state of nerves any movement is painful to me. May I ask if you have found everything satisfactory here at Limmeridge?'

When I began to reply, he at once raised his hand to stop me.

'Please excuse me. But could you speak more softly? I simply cannot bear loud voices, or indeed, any kind of loud sound.'

The interview did not last long as Mr Fairlie quickly lost interest in it. He informed me that the ladies would make all the arrangements for their drawing lessons.

'I suffer so much from my nerves, Mr Hartright,' he said. 'Do you mind ringing the bell for Louis? Thank you. Good morning!'

With great relief I left the room, and spent the rest of the morning looking forward to lunchtime, when I would be introduced to Miss Fairlie.

*  *  *

At two o'clock I entered the dining room and found Miss Halcombe seated at the table with a rather fat lady who smiled all the time. This, I discovered, was Mrs Vesey. We started eating and before long we had finished lunch, with still no sign of Miss Fairlie. Miss Halcombe noticed my frequent glances at the door.

'I understand you, Mr Hartright,' she said. 'You are wondering about your other student. Well, she has got over her headache, but did not want any lunch. If you will follow me, I think I can find her somewhere in the garden.'

We walked out together along a path through the garden, until we came to a pretty summer-house. Inside I could see a young lady standing near a table, looking out at the view and turning the pages of a little drawing book. This was Miss Laura Fairlie.

How can I describe her? How can I separate this moment from all that has happened since then? In a drawing I later made of her she appears as a light, youthful figure wearing a simple white and blue striped dress and a summer hat. Her hair is light brown, almost gold, and she has eyes that are clear and blue, with a look of truth in them. They give her whole face such a charm that it is difficult to notice each individual feature: the delicate, though not perfectly straight, nose; the sweet, sensitive mouth. The life and beauty of her face lies in her eyes.

Such was my impression, but at the same time I felt there was something about her that I could not explain — something that I ought to remember, but could not. In fact, I was thinking about this so much that I could hardly answer when she greeted me.

Miss Halcombe, believing I was shy, quickly said, 'Look at your perfect student,' and she pointed at the sketches. 'She has already started work before your lessons have begun. You must show them to Mr Hartright, Laura, when we go for a drive.'

Miss Fairlie laughed with bright good humour.

'I hope he will give his true opinion of them and not just say something to please me,' she said.

'May I enquire why you say that?' I asked.

'Because I shall believe all that you tell me,' she answered simply.

In those few words she gave me the key to her own trusting, truthful character.

Later we went for our promised drive, but I must confess that I was far more interested in Miss Fairlie's conversation than her sketches. I soon realized I was behaving more like a guest than a drawing teacher and when I was on my own again I felt uneasy and dissatisfied with myself.

At dinner that evening these feelings soon disappeared, and when the meal was over, we went into a large sitting room with glass doors leading into the garden. Mrs Vesey fell asleep in an armchair and Miss Halcombe sat near a window to look through her mother's letters. At my request Miss Fairlie played the piano.

How will I ever forget that peaceful picture? The flowers outside, the music of Mozart, Miss Halcombe reading the letters in the half-light, the delicate outline of Miss Fairlie's face against the dark wall. It was an evening of sights and sounds to remember for ever.

Later, when Miss Fairlie had finished playing and had wandered out into the moonlit garden, Miss Halcombe called me.

'Mr Hartright, will you come here for a minute?'

I went over and she showed me a letter.

'It's from my mother to her second husband twelve years ago. She mentions a lady from Hampshire called Mrs Catherick, who had come to look after her sick sister living in the village. It seems she brought her only child with her, a little girl called Anne, who was about a year older than Laura. I was at a school in Paris at the time. My mother, who took a great interest in the village school, says the little girl was slow in learning so she gave her lessons here at the house. She also gave her some of Laura's white dresses and white hats, saying she looked better in white than any other colour. She says that little Anne Catherick was so grateful, and loved her so much, that one day she kissed her hand and said, "I'll always wear white as long as I live. It will help me to remember you."'

Miss Halcombe stopped and looked at me.

'Did the woman you met that night seem young enough to be twenty-two or twenty-three?'

'Yes, Miss Halcombe, as young as that.'

'And was she dressed from head to foot, all in white?'

'All in white.'

From where I sat, I could see Miss Fairlie walking in the garden, and the whiteness of her dress in the moonlight suddenly made my heart beat faster.

'Now listen to what my mother says at the end of the letter,' Miss Halcombe continued. 'It will surprise you. She says that perhaps the real reason for her liking little Anne Catherick so much was that she looked exactly like —'

Before she could finish, I jumped up. Outside stood Miss Fairlie, a white figure alone in the moonlight. And suddenly I realized what it was that I had been unable to remember — it was the extraordinary likeness between Miss Laura Fairlie and the runaway from the asylum, the woman in white.

'You see it!' said Miss Halcombe. 'Just as my mother saw the likeness between them years ago.'

'Yes,' I replied. 'But very unwillingly. To connect that lonely, friendless woman, even by an accidental likeness, to Miss Fairlie disturbs me very much. I don't like to think of it. Please call her in from that horrible moonlight!'

'We won't say anything about this likeness to Laura,' she said. 'It will be a secret between you and me.' Then she called Miss Fairlie in, asking her to play the piano again; and so my first, eventful day at Limmeridge House came to an end.

*  *  *

The days passed, the weeks passed, and summer changed into a golden autumn. A peaceful, happy time, but at last, I had to confess to myself my real feelings for Miss Fairlie.

I loved her.

Every day I was near her in that dangerous closeness which exists between teacher and student. Often, as we bent over her sketch-book, our hands and faces almost touched. I breathed the perfume of her hair. I should have put a professional distance between myself and her, as I had always done with my students in the past. But I did not, and it was soon too late.

By the third month of my stay in Cumberland, I was lost in dreams of love and blind to the dangers ahead of me. Then the first warning finally came — from her. In the space of one night, she changed towards me. There was a sudden nervous distance, and a kind of sadness, in her attitude. The pain I felt at that moment is beyond description. But I knew then that she had changed because she had suddenly discovered not only my feelings, but her own as well. This change was also reflected in Miss Halcombe, who said nothing unusual to me, but who had developed a new habit of always watching me. This new and awful situation continued for some time until, on a Thursday, near the end of the third month, I was at last rescued by the sensible and courageous Miss Halcombe.

'Have you got a moment for me?' she asked after breakfast. 'Shall we go into the garden?'

We walked to the summer-house and went inside. Miss Halcombe turned to me. 'Mr Hartright, what I have to say to you I can say here. Now, I know that you are a good man who always acts correctly. Your story about that unhappy woman in London proves that. As your friend, I must tell you that I have discovered your feelings for my sister, Laura. Although you have done nothing wrong, except show weakness, I must tell you to leave Limmeridge House before any harm is done. And there is something else I must tell you, which will also give you pain. Will you shake hands with your friend, Marian Halcombe, first?'

She spoke with such kindness that I shook her hand.

'You must leave because Laura Fairlie is to be married.'

The last word went like a bullet to my heart. I turned white, I felt cold. With one word all my hopes disappeared.

'You must put an end to your feelings, here, where you first met her. I will hide nothing from you. She is not marrying for love, but because of a promise she made to her father just before he died. The man she is to marry arrives here next Monday.'

'Let me go today,' I said bitterly. 'The sooner the better.'

'No, not today. That would look strange. Wait till tomorrow, after the post has arrived. Say to Mr Fairlie that you have received bad news and must return to London.'

'I will follow your advice, Miss Halcombe,' I said sadly. 'But may I ask who the gentleman engaged to Miss Fairlie is?'

'A rich man from Hampshire.'

Hampshire! Again a connection with Anne Catherick!

'And his name?' I asked, as calmly as I could.

'Sir Percival Glyde.'

Sir! I remembered Anne Catherick's suspicious question about Baronets, and my voice shook a little as I asked, 'Is he a Baronet?'

She paused for a moment, then answered, 'Yes, a Baronet.'


figure n. bodily shape 身材

womanly adj. having or showing qualities associated with women 具有或表现出女子气质的

fortune n. great wealth; a large sum of money 大笔财富

guardian n. a person having legal custody of another person when that person is incapable of managing his or her own affairs 监护人

reference n. the act of referring to a person etc. for information 提及;提到

delicate adj. easily made ill 娇弱的

bear v. tolerate; put up with 忍受

good morning courteous farewell 早上(上午)礼貌的告别方式

get over recover from an illness 恢复;痊愈

youthful adj. having freshness or vigour of youth 年轻的

enquire v. ask a question

confess v. admit 承认

uneasy adj. disturbed or uncomfortable in mind or body 不自在的;不舒服的

peaceful adj. characterized by peace, tranquil 平静的

extraordinary adj. unusual or remarkable 不同寻常的

runaway n. a person who flees from enemy, danger or a master 逃跑者

eventful adj. marked by noteworthy events 发生事情比较多的

professional adj. connected with a profession 职业的

blind adj. without foresight, intellectual perception or adequate information 不知道的;不了解的

sensible adj. reasonable, judicious 明智的;理智的

engaged adj. under a promise to marry 订婚

pause v. to cease or suspend an action temporarily 停顿

2.在利默里奇庄园的日子

第二天起床,迎接我的是灿烂的阳光和窗外湛蓝的大海。未来突然好像一片光明。我下楼来到早餐室,一位身材优美的年轻女士正背对我望着窗外。当她转身向我走来时,我吃惊地发现她长得很丑。她的上唇上长着胡须,嘴唇又大又厚。尽管脸长得像个男人,但是友好的微笑使她看上去有了一些女人味儿。她同我打招呼,声音悦耳,听起来很有教养。她告诉我她叫玛丽安·哈尔库姆,费尔利小姐同母异父的姐姐。

“我母亲结过两次婚,”她以一种平和友善的语调对我说,“第一次嫁给哈尔库姆先生,我父亲,第二次嫁给费尔利先生,费尔利小姐的父亲。我父亲一贫如洗,费尔利小姐的父亲却是个有钱人。我本人一无所有,但她很富有。我长得又黑又丑,她又白又漂亮。”她兴致勃勃地说着这一切,“我们姐妹俩非常要好,先生,所以你必须要讨好我们俩,要不就谁也别讨好。”

她又告诉我费尔利小姐早上头疼,维西夫人正在照顾她,维西夫人原来是费尔利小姐的家庭教师。

“今天早饭就我们两个了,哈特里特先生,”她说,“至于费尔利先生,你的雇主,你肯定得过些时候才能见到他了,他是费尔利小姐的叔叔,单身一人,费尔利小姐父母死后,他就成了她的监护人。他患有一种古怪的神经疾病,从不离开他的房间半步。”

吃早饭的时候,她对我讲了她们姐妹俩平静而规律的生活。“你觉得你能适应这样的生活吗?”她问,“你是否会烦躁不安,希望有些新奇的事情发生?”

“新奇”这个词让我想起遇到白衣女人的事,她曾经提到过费尔利夫人。当我把我的奇异经历告诉哈尔库姆小姐时,她对这件事表现出浓厚的兴趣,特别对提到她的母亲这个细节。

“你不知道那女人叫什么名字吗?”

“不知道。只知道她从汉普郡来。”

“那好吧,我今天早上,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“就翻一翻母亲的信件。我想一定会从中找出点线索解开这个谜。午饭时间是两点,哈特里特先生,到时我会把你介绍给我妹妹。”

早饭后,费尔利先生的贴身仆人路易斯过来告诉我费尔利先生要见我。我跟他上了楼,被带到一个很大的房间,里面有许多艺术珍品。扶手椅上坐着一个苍白羸弱的小个子男人,大概五十岁上下。尽管他穿着考究,白皙柔软的手指上带着贵重的戒指,但是他身上有一种让人非常不喜欢的东西。

“非常高兴你能来这里工作,哈特里特先生,”他的声音尖锐刺耳,还带着一丝怨气,“请坐,但请不要动椅子。任何动静都会刺激我的神经,让我难受。你在利默里奇感到还满意吗?”

我刚要说话,他又马上举手示意我先别说。

“请原谅,你说话声音轻点吗?我受不了大声说话,任何太响的声音我都受不了。”

我们的面谈没有持续很长时间,因为费尔利先生很快就没了兴趣。他告诉我小姐们会安排所有关于绘画课的事宜。

“我的神经很差,哈特里特先生,你能帮我摇铃叫一下路易斯吗?谢谢。再见。”

离开他的房间,我长出了一口气。上午剩下的时间我一直在等着吃午饭,到时就可以见到费尔利小姐了。

*  *  *

两点钟,我来到餐厅,看到哈尔库姆小姐同一位体态丰满的女士坐在桌旁,那位女士一直面带微笑。她就是维西夫人。我们开始一起吃饭,不一会儿就吃完了,但一直没见到费尔利小姐的影子。哈尔库姆小姐注意到我不断地朝门口张望。

“我知道你在想什么,哈特里特先生,”她说,“你一定在想你的另一个学生。她头痛已经好了,但不想吃东西。如果你跟我来,我可以在花园里找到她。”

我们一起沿着花园的小路来到一个漂亮的凉亭前。我看到里面有一位小姐站在一张桌子旁,望着外面的风景,手中翻动着一本小画册。这就是劳拉·费尔利小姐。

我该怎样描述她呢?我怎样才能把此时此刻同后来发生的一切分开呢?在我后来画的一张她的肖像里,她年轻活泼,身穿式样简单的蓝白条纹连衣裙,头戴遮阳帽。她的头发是淡棕色,接近金色。她有一双清澈诚实的蓝眼睛,使她魅力四射,让你不再注意她脸上的其他细节:小巧但不很直的鼻子,还有甜美动人的双唇。她脸部的活力和美丽都源自那双眼睛。

这就是她给我的印象,但同时她身上有一些我无法解释的东西——一些我应该记得,却想不起来的东西。我完全沉浸在自己的思绪里,甚至她向我打招呼时,我几乎都说不出话来。

哈尔库姆小姐可能觉得我是个腼腆的人,马上说:“看看你的学生多好,”然后又指了指那些画,“你的课还没开始,她已经开始自己画了。劳拉,我们一会儿坐马车出去的时候,把你的画给哈特里特先生看看。”

费尔利小姐开心地笑起来。

“我希望先生把真实的评价告诉我,不要光说好话哄我。”她说。

“请问你为什么这么说呢?”我问她。

“因为你的任何评价我都会相信。”她回答得很爽快。

从这些话里我看出她天性真诚,会毫无保留地相信他人。

过了一会儿,我们按计划坐马车出去,然而我必须承认比起费尔利小姐的画,我对她的言谈更感兴趣。我很快意识到自己的表现与其说像绘画教师不如说更像客人。自己一个人的时候,我感到有些不自在,对自己不满意。

晚饭的时候,这些感觉很快消失了。吃罢晚饭,我们来到一间大客厅,这里装有通往花园的玻璃门。维西夫人在扶手椅上睡着了,哈尔库姆小姐在翻阅她母亲的信件。在我的请求下,费尔利小姐弹起了钢琴。

这样安逸的情景我怎能忘记呢?屋外的鲜花,莫扎特的音乐,哈尔库姆小姐在微暗的光线下读信的样子,费尔利小姐映在昏暗的墙壁上的美丽侧脸,今晚这一切声音和情景都令人难以忘怀。

过了一会儿,费尔利小姐弹完了琴,走进月光下的花园。哈尔库姆小姐叫我。

“哈特里特先生,你能过来一下吗?”

我走过去,她递给我一封信。

“这是妈妈12年前写给她第二个丈夫的信。信中提到从汉普郡来的凯瑟里克太太,她是来照料住在村子里生病的妹妹的。她好像把她的独生女儿小安妮带来了,安妮比劳拉大1岁左右。当时我在巴黎读书,妈妈那时对村子里的学校非常感兴趣,她觉得小安妮学习比较吃力,就在家里辅导她。妈妈还把劳拉的一些白连衣裙和帽子送给她,说安妮穿白色衣服最好看。她说安妮·凯瑟里克很感激,也很喜欢她。一天,她吻过妈妈的手,说:‘我一辈子都会穿白色衣服,因为白色让我永远记着你。’”

哈尔库姆小姐停下来看着我,问道:

“你那天晚上碰到的那个女人,是不是只有二十二三岁的样子?”

“没错,哈尔库姆小姐,差不多那么大。”

“她是不是从头到脚都穿白色?”

“的确都是白色的。”

从我坐的地方可以看到费尔利小姐在花园中散步,月光下她的白色连衣裙突然间使我的心跳加快了。

“听听妈妈在信的末尾是怎么说的,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“你一定会感到吃惊的。她说她之所以那么喜欢小安妮·凯瑟里克,可能是因为她长得特别像——”

没等她说完,我一下子跳了起来。外面站着费尔利小姐,月光下一个孤零零的白色身影,猛然间我明白了我没有想起来的是什么了——就是劳拉·费尔利小姐同从精神病院跑出来的白衣女人惊人地相似。

“你看出来了!”哈尔库姆小姐说,“和妈妈一样,她多年前也看出了她们之间惊人的相似。”

“是的,”我说,“但是我非常不愿意把那个孤独无依的女人同费尔利小姐联系起来,即使这全是出于偶然,也让我内心不安。我不想再想这件事。还是叫她进来吧,那月光太可怕了!”

“我们不要对劳拉讲任何有关相貌相似的事,”她说,“这是我们之间的秘密。”说完,她招呼费尔利小姐进屋来,让她再弹一首曲子。就这样,我在利默里奇不平凡的第一天结束了。

*  *  *

日子一天天、一个星期又一个星期地过去了,夏季已被金秋取代。这是宁静而快乐的季节,然而,我最终还是必须向自己承认对费尔利小姐的感觉。

我爱上了她。

作为师生,每天我都和她那么接近,这很危险。很多次,在低头翻看写生簿的时候,我们的手和脸几乎要碰到,我可以闻到她头发的香味。我本应与她保持教师与学生应有的距离,我和过去教过的学生都是这样。但是我现在没有,而且已经来不及了。

来坎伯兰郡的第三个月,我已经完全沉浸在爱的幻想中,对将要到来的危险一无所知。第一个危险的信号终于来了——而且就来自于。一夜之间,她对我的态度发生了变化,她对我有一种拘束的疏离感,还有一种莫名的哀伤。我当时的痛苦无法言表。不过后来我才知道她是因为发现了我的感受,也发现了她自己的感受才有这样的变化。这种变化还反映在哈尔库姆小姐身上,她虽然没跟我说什么,但是开始经常注视着我。这种可怕的新状况一直持续到将近第三个月末的一个星期四。最后,理智、勇敢的哈尔库姆小姐帮我得到了解脱。

“能占用你一点儿时间吗?”早饭后她这样问我,“我们去花园走走好吗?”

我们来到凉亭,走了进去。哈尔库姆小姐转向我;“哈特里特先生,我要向你说的话在这儿可以说了。我知道你是一位举止得体的好人,你跟我讲的关于伦敦那个不幸女人的事证明了这一点。但是,作为你的朋友,我必须告诉你,我发现了你对我妹妹劳拉的感情。除了表现得有些软弱,你没做错什么,不过我还是必须劝你在造成伤害之前离开利默里奇庄园。我还有些事要告诉你,可能会让你痛苦。你能不能先和你的朋友玛丽安·哈尔库姆握握手?”

她说得非常诚恳,我握了握她的手。

“你必须离开这里,因为劳拉·费尔利就要结婚了。”

最后那个词就像一颗子弹一样穿过我的胸膛。我的脸色苍白,全身冰冷。就因为这一个词,我所有的希望都消失了。

“你必须在这里结束这段感情,就在你们初次相识的地方。我不会对你有任何隐瞒,她不是为了爱才结婚,而是因为她在她父亲临终时做的承诺。她要嫁的人下星期一到这里。”

“我今天就走,”我难过地说,“越快越好。”

“不,不要今天走。那样会让别人觉得奇怪。等到明天邮差来了再走。你就跟费尔利先生说收到了坏消息,必须马上回伦敦去。”

“我按你说的做,哈尔库姆小姐,”我伤心地说,“不过,你能告诉我同费尔利小姐订婚的先生是谁吗?”

“是汉普郡的一个有钱人。”

汉普郡!又一个和安妮·凯瑟里克有关的线索!

“他叫什么?”我尽量平静地问。

“珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士。”

爵士!我想起安妮·凯瑟里克问过的有关准男爵的问题。“他是准男爵吗?”我的声音有些颤抖。

她停了一停,说道:“对,他是准男爵。”

3
The unsigned letter

As I sat alone in my room later that morning, my thoughts crowded in on me. There was no reason at all for me to connect Sir Percival Glyde with the man who had made Anne Catherick so afraid — but I did. My suffering was great, but even greater was my feeling that some terrible, invisible danger lay ahead of us. Then I heard a knock at my door. It was Miss Halcombe.

'Mr Hartright, I am sorry to disturb you, but you are the only person who can advise me. A letter has just arrived for Miss Fairlie — a horrible, unsigned letter, warning her not to marry Sir Percival Glyde. It has upset my sister very much. Should I try to find out who wrote it or wait to speak to Mr Gilmore, Mr Fairlie's legal adviser, who arrives tomorrow?'

She gave me the letter. There was no greeting, no signature.

Do you believe in dreams, Miss Fairlie? Last night I dreamt I saw you in your white wedding dress in a church, so pretty, so innocent. By your side stood a man with the scar of an old wound on his right hand — a handsome man, but with a black, evil heart; a man who has brought misery to many, and who will bring misery to you. And in my dream I cried for you. Find out the past life of this man, Miss Fairlie, before you marry him. I send you this warning, because your mother was my first, my best, my only friend.

These last words suggested an idea to me, which I was afraid to mention. Was I in danger of losing my balance of mind? Why should everything lead back to the woman in white?

'I think a woman wrote this letter,' said Miss Halcombe. 'It certainly refers to Sir Percival — I remember that scar. What should I do, Mr Hartright? This mystery must be solved. Mr Gilmore is coming to discuss the financial details of Miss Fairlie's marriage, and Sir Percival arrives on Monday to fix the date of the marriage — though Miss Fairlie does not know this yet.'

The date of the marriage! Those words filled me with jealous despair. Perhaps there was some truth in this letter. If I could find the writer, perhaps I would find a way to prove that Sir Percival Glyde was not the honest man he seemed.

'I think we should begin enquiries at once,' I said. 'The longer we delay, the harder it will be to find out anything.'

We questioned the servants and learnt that the letter had been delivered by an elderly woman, who had then disappeared in the direction of the village. People in Limmeridge remembered seeing the woman, but no one could tell us who she was or where she had come from. Finally, I suggested asking the school teacher. As we approached the school door, we could hear the teacher shouting at one of the boys, saying angrily that there were no such things as ghosts. It was an awkward moment, but we went in anyway and asked our question. The teacher could tell us nothing. However, as we turned to leave, Miss Halcombe spoke to the boy standing in the corner:

'Are you the foolish boy who was talking about ghosts?'

'Yes, Miss. But I saw one! I saw it yesterday, in the churchyard. I did! It was — it was the ghost of Mrs Fairlie!'

His answer visibly shocked Miss Halcombe, and the teacher quickly stepped in to explain that the silly boy had said he had seen (or probably imagined) a woman in white standing next to Mrs Fairlie's grave as he passed the churchyard yesterday evening. There was nothing more to it than that.

'What is your opinion of this?' Miss Halcombe asked me as we went out of the school.

'The boy may have seen someone,' I said, 'but not a ghost. I think we should examine the grave. I have this suspicion, Miss Halcombe, that the writer of the letter and the imagined ghost in the churchyard might be the same person.'

She stopped, turned pale, and looked at me. 'What person?'

'Anne Catherick,' I replied. 'The woman in white.'

'I don't know why, but your suspicion frightens me,' she said slowly. 'I will show you the grave, and then I must go back to Laura. We'll meet again at the house later.'

In the churchyard I examined Mrs Fairlie's grave carefully, and noticed that the gravestone had been partly cleaned. Perhaps the person who had done the cleaning would return to finish the job. I decided to come back that evening and watch. Back at the house I explained my plan to Miss Halcombe, who seemed uneasy but made no objection. So, as the sun began to go down, I walked to the churchyard, chose my position, and waited.

After about half an hour I heard footsteps. Then two women passed in front of me and walked to the grave. One wore a long cloak with a hood over her head, hiding her face. Below the cloak a little of her dress was visible — a white dress. The other woman said something to her companion, and then walked away round the corner of the church, leaving the woman in the cloak next to the grave. After looking all around her, she took out a cloth, kissed the white cross and started to clean it.

I approached her slowly and carefully, but when she saw me, she jumped up and looked at me in terror.

There, in front of me, was the face of the woman in white.

'Don't be frightened,' I said. 'Surely you remember me?' Her eyes searched my face. 'I helped you to find the way to London,' I went on. 'Surely you have not forgotten that?'

Her face relaxed as she recognized me, and she sighed in relief. Before this, I had seen her likeness in Miss Fairlie. Now I saw Miss Fairlie's likeness in her. Except that Miss Fairlie's delicate beauty was missing from this tired face, and I could not help thinking that if ever sorrow and suffering fell on Miss Fairlie, then, and only then, they would be the living reflections of one another. It was a horrible thought.

Gently, I began to question her. I told her that I knew she had escaped from an asylum, and that I was glad I had helped her. But had she found her friend in London that night?

'Oh yes. That was Mrs Clements, who is here with me now. She was our neighbour in Hampshire, and took care of me when I was a little girl. She has always been my friend.'

'Have you no father or mother to take care of you?'

'I never saw my father — I never heard mother speak of him. And I don't get on well with her. I'd rather be with Mrs Clements, who is kind, like you.'

I learnt that she was staying with relations of Mrs Clements at a farm, three miles from the village, but there were other, harder questions I wanted to ask. Who had shut her away in an asylum? Her 'unkind' mother, perhaps? What was her motive in writing the letter to Miss Fairlie, accusing Sir Percival Glyde? Was it revenge? What wrong had Sir Percival done her?

She was easily frightened, easily confused, and could only hold one idea in her mind at a time. I tried not to alarm her. Had she ever, I asked, been wronged by a man and then abandoned? Her innocent, puzzled face told me that was not the answer.

All the time we were talking she was cleaning the gravestone with her cloth.

'Mrs Fairlie was my best friend,' she murmured. 'And her daughter...' She looked up at me, then away again, as though hiding her face in guilt. 'Is Miss Fairlie well and happy?' she whispered anxiously.

I decided to try and surprise a confession from her. 'She was not well or happy this morning, after receiving your letter. You wrote it, didn't you? It was wrong to send such a letter.'

Her face went deathly pale. Then she bent down and kissed the gravestone. 'Oh, Mrs Fairlie! Mrs Fairlie! Tell me how to save your daughter. Tell me what to do.'

'You mention no names in the letter, but Miss Fairlie knows that the person you describe is Sir Percival Glyde —'

The moment I said his name she gave such a scream of terror that my blood ran cold. Her face, now full of fear and hatred, told me everything. Without doubt the person who had shut her away in the asylum was Sir Percival Glyde.

At the sound of her scream, Mrs Clements came running and, looking angrily at me, said, 'What is it, my dear? What has this man done to you?'

'Nothing,' the poor girl said. 'He was good to me once. He helped me...' She whispered the rest in her friend's ear.

Then Mrs Clements put her arm round Anne Catherick and led her away. I watched them go, feeling great pity for that poor, pale, frightened face.

Half an hour later I was back at the house, and the story I told Miss Halcombe made her very worried.

'I am certain Sir Percival Glyde put Anne Catherick in the asylum,' I said. 'But why? What is the connection between them?'

'We must find out,' said Miss Halcombe. 'We will go to the farm tomorrow, and I will speak to Anne Catherick myself.'

*  *  *

The first thing I had to do the next morning was to ask Mr Fairlie if I could leave my job a month early. As his nerves were particularly bad, I could not speak to him directly but had to write a note, explaining that some unexpected news forced me to return to London. In reply I received a most unpleasant letter, informing me that I could go. Once, such a letter would have upset me greatly; now, I no longer cared.

Later Miss Halcombe and I walked to the farm, and Miss Halcombe went in while I waited nearby. To my surprise, she returned after only a few minutes.

'Does Anne Catherick refuse to see you?' I asked.

'Anne Catherick has gone,' replied Miss Halcombe. 'She left this morning, with Mrs Clements. The farmer's wife, Mrs Todd, has no idea why they left or where they went. She just said that Anne Catherick had been disturbed after reading something in the local newspaper a couple of days ago. I looked at the paper and saw that it mentioned Laura's future wedding. Then Mrs Todd said that Anne Catherick fainted last night, apparently in shock at something mentioned by one of the servant girls from our house, who was visiting the farm on her evening off.'

We hurried back to the house to question the servant girl. Miss Halcombe asked her if she had mentioned Sir Percival Glyde's name while at the farm. 'Oh yes,' the girl replied. 'I said he was coming on Monday.'

At that moment a cab arrived and Mr Gilmore, the family friend and legal adviser, got out. He was an elderly man, pleasant-looking and neatly dressed. Miss Halcombe introduced me, and then went away to discuss family matters with him. I wandered out into the garden. My time at Limmeridge House was nearly at an end, and I wanted to say a last goodbye to the places where I had so often walked with Miss Fairlie, in the dream-time of my happiness and my love. But the autumn day was grey and damp, and those golden memories were already fading.

As I returned to the house, I met Mr Gilmore.

'Ah, Mr Hartright,' he said. 'Miss Halcombe has told me how helpful you have been about this strange letter received by Miss Fairlie. I want you to know that the investigation is now in my safe hands. I have written to Sir Percival Glyde's lawyer in London and I'm sure we will receive a satisfactory explanation.'

'I'm afraid I am not so sure as you,' was my reply.

'Well, well,' said Mr Gilmore. 'We will wait for events.'

At dinner that evening — my last dinner at Limmeridge House — it was a hard battle to keep my self-control. I saw that it was not easy for Miss Fairlie, either. She gave me her hand as she had done in happier days, but her fingers trembled and her face was pale. Mr Gilmore kept the conversation going, and afterwards we went into the sitting room as usual. Miss Fairlie sat at the piano.

'Shall I play some of those pieces by Mozart that you like? Will you sit in your old chair near me?' she asked nervously.

'As it is my last night, I will,' I answered.

'I am very sorry you are going,' she said, almost in a whisper.

'I shall remember those kind words, Miss Fairlie, long after tomorrow has gone,' I replied.

'Don't speak about tomorrow.'

Then she played, and at last it was time to say goodnight.

The next morning I found Miss Halcombe and Miss Fairlie waiting for me downstairs. When I began to speak, Miss Fairlie turned and hurried from the room. I tried to control my voice, but could only say, 'Will you write to me, Miss Halcombe?'

She took both my hands in hers, and her face grew beautiful with the force of her generosity and pity. 'Of course I will, Walter. Goodbye — and God bless you!'

She left, and a few seconds later Miss Fairlie returned, holding something. It was her own sketch of the summer-house where we had first met. With tears in her eyes, she offered it to me,' to remind you', she whispered. My own tears fell as I kissed her hand, then I turned to go. She sank into a chair, her head dropped on her arms. At that moment I knew that Laura Fairlie loved me too. But it was over. We were separated.


crowd v. come together in a crowd 聚集;集中

invisible adj. not visible to the eye 看不见的

jealous adj. afraid, suspicious or resentful of rivalry in love or affection 嫉妒的

deliver v. distribute letters to the addressee

approach v. come near or nearer to a place 接近;靠近

examine v. look closely at 仔细地看

objection n. an expression or feeling of opposition or disapproval 反对;不同意

terror n. extreme fear 恐惧;恐怖

relax v. become less rigid or tense 放松

recognize v. identify a person an already known 认出来

relation n. a member of one's family 亲戚;亲属

motive n. factor or circumstance that induces a person to act on a particular way 动机

revenge n. retaliation for an offence or injury 复仇

abandon v. forsake or desert 抛弃

scream n. a loud high-pitched cry expressing fear, pain etc. 惊叫;尖叫

faint v. lose consciousness 失去知觉;晕倒

fade v. diminish 减退

sink v. settle down 坐下

3.匿名信件

那天上午,我一个人坐在房间里,思绪异常纷乱。我本来没有任何理由把珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士和那个让安妮·凯瑟里克害怕的人联系起来——但我的确把他们连在了一起。我很痛苦,但也强烈地感到将有看不见的可怕危险到来。这时,我听到有人敲门,来的是哈尔库姆小姐。

“哈特里特先生,很抱歉打扰你,可是只有你能给我出个主意了。刚收到一封给费尔利小姐的信——一封可怕的匿名信,警告她不要和珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士结婚。这封信让妹妹非常不安。我是应该查一下谁写的信,还是等明天费尔利先生的法律顾问吉尔摩先生来了问问他?”

她把信递给我,上面没有问候语,也没有签名。


你相信梦吗,费尔利小姐?昨天夜里我梦见你穿着白色婚纱站在教堂里,你是那么漂亮,那么纯洁。你身边站着一个右手有旧伤疤的男人,他面容英俊,但内心邪恶,他曾让许多人痛苦,也会让你痛苦。在梦里我为你哭泣。费尔利小姐,弄清这个人的过去再同他结婚。我之所以给你如此的忠告是因为你的母亲是我第一个朋友,也是最好的、唯一的朋友。


信的最后几个字让我想到了一件事,但我不敢说出来。是不是我脑子出了问题?为什么所有的事情都指向那个白衣女人?

“我认为这封信是一个女人写的,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“信里说的肯定是珀西瓦尔爵士,我记得他的那条疤。我该怎么办,哈特里特先生?这个谜一定得解开。吉尔摩先生要来谈费尔利小姐婚事的财务细节,珀西瓦尔爵士星期一来确定结婚的日期——不过费尔利小姐还不知道。”

结婚的日期!这些字眼使我又嫉妒又绝望。也许这封信里有些话是真的。如果我能找到写信人,也许会有办法证明珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士并不像他外表看起来那样正直。

“我觉得我们应该马上开始调查,”我说,“耽误的时间越长,越难找到线索。”

我们问了仆人,得知信是一个上了年纪的女人送来的,那女人朝村子的方向走去,很快就消失了。利默里奇庄园的人说记得见过那个女人,但没人知道她是谁,从哪里来。最后我建议去问一问学校的老师。快到学校门口的时候,我们听见老师正大声训斥一个学生说根本就没有什么鬼。这是个尴尬的时刻,但我们还是进去向老师提出了我们的问题。老师没能告诉我们任何信息。然而,在我们转身离开时,哈尔库姆小姐对站在角落的男孩说:

“你就是说有鬼的那个傻孩子?”

“是的,小姐。可我真的看到了!昨天在教堂的墓地里看见的。我真的看见了!那鬼是……是费尔利夫人!”

孩子的话显然令哈尔库姆小姐非常吃惊。老师马上走过来解释说这傻孩子说他昨天晚上路过教堂墓地的时候,看见(或是想象)一个穿白衣服的女人站在费尔利夫人的墓旁。我们得到的消息就是这些。

“你怎么看这件事?”走出学校,哈尔库姆小姐问我。

“那男孩可能看见了什么人,”我说,“但不是鬼。我想我们应该去看看那墓地。我怀疑,哈尔库姆小姐,写信的人和那个教堂墓地里假想出来的鬼可能是同一个人。”

她停住了脚步,脸色煞白,两只眼睛紧盯着我,“那人是谁?”

“安妮·凯瑟里克,”我回答,“那个白衣女人。”

“我不知道为什么,但是你的怀疑让我很害怕,”她缓慢地说,“我带你去墓地,然后我得回去看看劳拉。我们庄园再见。”

在教堂墓地里,我仔细察看了费尔利夫人的坟墓,发现墓碑有一部分被人擦洗过。也许那人会回来继续擦洗。我决定晚上再回来看看。回到庄园,我把想法告诉了哈尔库姆小姐,她看上去有些不安,但没有表示反对。于是,太阳刚开始落山,我就走路到了教堂墓地,找了个地方,开始等待。

大约半小时后,我听到了脚步声。接着,两个女人从我前面走过,向坟墓走去。其中一个穿着斗篷,兜帽遮住了她的脸。斗篷下面可以看到一点儿她的裙角——白色的裙子。另一个女人跟她说了些什么,然后转过墙角走了。穿斗篷的女人来到坟墓旁,向周围仔细看了看,然后掏出一块布,吻了一下白色的十字架,开始擦洗墓碑。

我小心翼翼地慢慢走近那女人,她看见我后,一下子跳起来,惊恐地望着我。

出现在我眼前的正是那白衣女人的脸。

“别害怕,”我说,“你肯定记得我吧?”她打量着我的脸。“是我指给你通往伦敦的路,你肯定没忘吧?”我接着说。

她认出我以后,长出了一口气,脸上的表情也放松了。在此之前,我曾看出她和费尔利小姐的相像之处,现在我看出费尔利小姐和她的相像之处。只不过费尔利小姐的精致美丽在这张疲惫的脸上看不出来。我不禁想到,假如不幸和痛苦降临到费尔利小姐头上,她们俩就真的一模一样了。这是个可怕的想法。

我开始和缓地向她提问。我告诉她我知道她是从精神病院逃出来的,也很高兴帮助了她。不过,那天晚上她找到伦敦的朋友了吗?

“噢,找到了。就是克莱门茨太太。她现在跟我在一起。她是我们在汉普郡的邻居,我小的时候就是她照顾我。她一直是我的朋友。”

“你没有父母照顾你吗?”

“我从没见过父亲——也从没听母亲说起过他。我同母亲关系不好。我宁愿同克莱门茨太太在一起。她心地善良,就像你一样。”

我了解到她和克莱门茨太太的亲戚住在离村子3英里远的农场里,但是我还想问一些更尖锐的问题。是谁把她关进了精神病院?是对她“不好”的母亲吗?她为什么要给费尔利小姐写信指责珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士?是复仇吗?珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士做了什么对不起她的事呢?

她特别容易受惊吓,容易思绪紊乱,只能一次考虑一个问题。我尽量不惊吓她。我问她是不是有个男人做了对不起她的事,而后抛弃了她?她单纯、疑惑的表情告诉我答案是否定的。

我们交谈的过程中,她一直在用布擦拭墓碑。

“费尔利夫人是我最好的朋友,”她小声说,“她女儿……”她抬头看看我,然后又转过头去,像是由于羞愧而不愿见人,“费尔利小姐好吗?快乐吗?”她急切地轻声问。

我决定给她一个突然袭击,看是否可以让她说出真相。“她今天早上收到你的信以后很不好,很不快乐。是你写的信,对吗?你不该写那样的信。”

她的脸变得像死人一般苍白。她低下头,吻了吻墓碑,“噢,费尔利夫人!费尔利夫人!告诉我怎么才能救你的女儿。告诉我该怎么做。”

“你在信里没有提到任何人的名字,但是费尔利小姐明白你说的那个人是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士——”

我说出这个名字的时候,她害怕得惊叫起来,那叫声让我全身发冷。她的脸上充满了恐惧和仇恨,这表情说明了一切。毫无疑问,把她关进精神病院的人就是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士。

听到惊叫声,克莱门茨太太跑过来,气愤地看了看我,说:“怎么啦,亲爱的?他对你怎么啦?”

“没事,”可怜的姑娘说,“他以前帮过我,他帮我……”下面的话她跟克莱门茨太太耳语着。

然后,克莱门茨太太挽着安妮·凯瑟里克,带她走了。我望着她们远去的背影,心中充满了对那可怜姑娘的同情,她的脸色是那样苍白,那样惊恐。

半小时后,我回到了庄园。我把事情经过告诉哈尔库姆小姐后,她显得非常担心。

“我敢肯定是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士把安妮·凯瑟里克关进精神病院的,”我说,“可是他为什么这样做呢?他们之间是什么关系呢?”

“我们必须搞清楚,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“明天我们去农场,我要亲自同安妮·凯瑟里克谈谈。”

*  *  *

第二天我要做的第一件事是请求费尔利先生允许我提前一个月结束在这里的工作。因为他的精神非常不好,我不能同他直接谈,只能写一封短信,说明我收到一些意外的消息,必须回伦敦去。很快我收到一封很不客气的回信,通知我可以离开。要是过去,这样的信会让我非常沮丧,可是现在我不在乎了。

随后,哈尔库姆小姐和我步行到农场去。她进去的时候我在附近等她。令我吃惊的是没几分钟她就出来了。

“是不是安妮·凯瑟里克拒绝见你?”我问。

“安妮·凯瑟里克已经走了,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“今天早上,她同克莱门茨太太一起走的。农场主的妻子托德太太不清楚她们为什么要走,也不知道她们到哪里去了。她只告诉我几天前安妮·凯瑟里克看了当地报纸上的什么消息后,就一直心神不安。我看了那份报纸,上面提到了劳拉将要举行的婚礼。托德太太说安妮·凯瑟里克昨晚晕倒了,原因很明显,我们庄园一个女仆带来的消息吓到了她,那个女仆昨晚放假来农场做客。”

我们马上回到庄园向那个女仆了解情况。哈尔库姆小姐问她,在农场的时候是不是提到了珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士的名字。“对,提到了,”女仆回答,“我说他星期一要来庄园。”

这个时候,一辆马车停在了门口,这家的老朋友和法律顾问吉尔摩先生从车里走下来。他是一位慈眉善目、穿着考究的老人。哈尔库姆小姐为我做了引见,然后就和吉尔摩先生去谈有关家里的事务了。我走进了外面的花园。我在利默里奇庄园的日子很快就要结束了,我想同这里的一切道个别。在这个花园里,我多少次和费尔利小姐散步,这是我享受幸福,享受爱情的地方。秋日的天灰蒙蒙的,空气很潮湿,那些甜美的记忆已经开始褪色。

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我回到屋里以后,见到了吉尔摩先生。

“呵,哈特里特先生,”他对我说,“哈尔库姆小姐已经跟我说了费尔利小姐收到那封奇怪来信的事,你帮了很大的忙。我想告诉你,对这件事的调查我很有把握,我已经给珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士在伦敦的律师写了信,我相信我们会得到一个满意的答复的。”

“我倒不像你那么有把握。”我说。

“好吧,好吧,”吉尔摩先生说,“那我们就等等结果吧。”

那天吃晚饭的时候——我在利默里奇庄园的最后一次晚饭——我努力控制自己的情感。我看得出费尔利小姐也非常不自在。像以前快乐的日子里一样,她把手伸给我,但她的手指在颤抖,脸上没有一点血色。只有吉尔摩先生滔滔不绝地说这说那,之后大家像往常一样来到客厅。费尔利小姐坐到了钢琴旁。

“我弹几首你喜欢的莫扎特的曲子好吗?你还坐我旁边的椅子,好吗?”她神色不安地问我。

“这是我在这里的最后一个晚上了,我照你说的做。”我对她说。

“你要走了,我很难过。”她的声音低得几乎听不到。

“我会记住你的话,费尔利小姐,明天以后我会一直记着的。”我说。

“不要提明天。”

接下来她开始弹钢琴,最后到说晚安的时候了。

转天早晨,我看到哈尔库姆小姐和费尔利小姐在楼下等我。我刚要开口说话,费尔利小姐转身跑出了房间。我尽量控制着自己的声音,但只说了一句:“给我写信好吗,哈尔库姆小姐?”

她紧紧握住我的双手,她的慷慨和同情让她显得漂亮起来。“我当然会的,沃尔特。再见——愿上帝保佑你!”

她离开片刻后,费尔利小姐回来了,手里还拿着什么东西。那是她自己画的我们初次相见的凉亭。她眼里噙着泪水,把画递给我。“留个纪念吧。”她轻声说。我吻着她的手,眼泪禁不住流了下来。我转身离去。她一下子跌坐到椅子上,头垂到了手臂上。那一刻,我明白劳拉·费尔利也在爱着我。但是,一切都结束了,我们被分开了。

2.Life at Limmeridge House

PART ONE
THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
第一部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

1
A meeting by moonlight

It was the last day of July. The long hot summer was coming to an end, and I was feeling ill and depressed. I was also short of money, so I had little chance of escaping from the dusty London streets, and would have to spend the autumn economically between my rooms in the city and my mother's house.

My mother and my sister, Sarah, lived in a cottage in Hampstead, in the northern suburbs, and I usually went to see them twice a week. This evening I arrived at the gate of the cottage just as it was starting to get dark. I had hardly rung the bell before the door was opened violently, and my Italian friend, Professor Pesca, rushed out to greet me.

Pesca was a language teacher who had left Italy for political reasons and had made his home in England. He was a strange, excitable little man, who was always trying to be more English than the English. I had met him from time to time when he was teaching in the same houses as I was, and then one day I met him by chance in Brighton. We agreed to go for a swim together in the sea. He was very enthusiastic and it never for a moment occurred to me that he did not know how to swim! Fortunately, when he suddenly sank to the bottom, I was able to dive down and save him. From that day on he was my grateful friend, and that evening he showed his gratitude to me in a way that changed my whole life.

'Now, my good friends,' he said, when we were all in my mother's sitting-room. 'I have some wonderful news for you. I have been asked by my employer to recommend a drawing teacher for a post with a rich family in the north of England. And who do you think I have recommended? The best drawing teacher in the world — Mr Walter Hartright!'

'My dear Pesca! How good you are to Walter!' exclaimed my mother. 'How kind, how generous you are!'

As for myself, although I was certainly grateful for his kindness, I still felt strangely depressed. I thanked him warmly, however, and asked to see the conditions. The note he gave me said that a qualified drawing teacher was wanted by Mr Frederick Fairlie of Limmeridge House, Cumberland, to teach his two young nieces for a period of at least four months. The teacher was to live at Limmeridge House as a gentleman and receive four pounds a week. Letters to show he was of good character would be required.

The position was certainly an attractive one, and I could not understand why I felt so little enthusiasm for it. However, since my mother and sister thought it was a great opportunity, and I had no wish to hurt Pesca's feelings, I agreed to apply for the job.

The next morning I sent my letters of recommendation to the Professor's employer, and four days later I heard that Mr Fairlie accepted my services and requested me to start for Cumberland immediately. I arranged to leave the next day, and in the evening I walked to Hampstead to say goodbye to my mother and Sarah.

When I left them at midnight, a full moon was shining in a dark blue, starless sky, and the air was soft and warm. I decided to take the long route home, and walk across Hampstead Heath before joining the road into the centre of the city. After a while I came to a crossroads and turned onto the London road. I was lost in my own thoughts, wondering about the two young ladies in Cumberland, when suddenly, my heart seemed to stop beating. A hand had touched my shoulder from behind.

I turned at once, my hand tightening on my walking stick.

There, as if it had dropped from the sky, stood the figure of a woman, dressed from head to foot in white clothes. I was too surprised to speak.

'Is that the road into London?' she said.

I looked at her carefully. It was then nearly one o'clock. All I could see in the moonlight was a young colourless face, large sad eyes, and light brown hair. Her manner was quiet and self-controlled. What sort of woman she was, and why she was out so late alone, I could not guess. But there was nothing evil about her — indeed, a kind of sad innocence seemed to come from her.

'Did you hear me?' she said, quietly and rapidly.

'Yes,' I replied, 'that's the road. Please excuse me — I was rather surprised by your sudden appearance.'

'You don't suspect me of doing anything wrong, do you?'

'No, no, seeing you so suddenly gave me a shock, that's all.'

'I heard you coming,' she said, 'and hid behind those trees to see what sort of man you were, before I risked speaking. May I trust you?' Her eyes searched my face, anxiously.

Her loneliness and helplessness were so obvious that I felt great sympathy for her. 'Tell me how I can help you,' I said, 'and if I can, I will.'

'Oh, thank you, thank you. You are very kind.' Her voice trembled a little as she spoke. 'I don't know London at all. Can I get a cab or a carriage at this time of night? Could you show me where to get one, and will you promise not to interfere with me? I have a friend in London who will be glad to receive me. I want nothing else — will you promise?'

She looked nervously up and down the road, then back at me.

How could I refuse? Her fear and confusion were painful to see.

'Will you promise?' she repeated.

'Yes.'

We set off together towards the centre of London. It was like a dream — walking along that familiar road, with so strange and so mysterious a companion at my side.

'Do you know any men of the rank of Baronet in London?' she asked suddenly.

There was a note of suspicion in the strange question, and when I said I knew no Baronets, she seemed relieved. I questioned her further, and she murmured that she had been cruelly used by a Baronet she would not name. She told me she came from Hampshire and asked if I lived in London. I explained that I did, but that I was leaving for Cumberland the next day.

'Cumberland!' she repeated softly. 'Ah! I wish I was going there too. I was once happy in Cumberland, in Limmeridge village. I'd like to see Limmeridge House again.'

Limmeridge House! I stopped, amazed.

'What's wrong?' she asked anxiously. 'Did you hear anybody calling after us?'

'No, no. It's just that I heard the name of Limmeridge House very recently. Do you know somebody there?'

'I did once,' she said. 'But Mrs Fairlie is dead; and her husband is dead; and their little girl may be married and gone away...'

Perhaps she would have told me more, but just at that moment we saw a cab. I stopped it, and she quickly got in.

'Please,' I said, 'let me see you safely to your friend's house.'

'No, no,' she cried. 'I'm quite safe, and you must let me go. Remember your promise! But thank you — oh! thank you.'

She caught my hand in hers, kissed it, and pushed it away. The cab disappeared into the black shadows on the road — and the woman in white had gone.

Ten minutes later I was still on the same road, thinking uneasily about the whole adventure, when I heard wheels behind me. An open carriage with two men in it passed me, then stopped when they saw a policeman walking further down the street.

'Officer!' cried one of the men. 'Have you seen a woman pass this way? A woman in white clothes?'

'No, sir. Why? What has she done?'

'Done! She has escaped from my asylum.'

An asylum! But the woman had not seemed mad to me. Nervous, and a little strange, perhaps, but not mad. What had I done? Had I helped a woman wrongly imprisoned to escape? Or had I failed to protect a sick person who might come to harm? These disturbing thoughts kept me awake all night after I had got back to my rooms, until at last it was time to leave London and set out for Cumberland.

*  *  *

My travelling instructions directed me to Carlisle and then to change trains for Limmeridge. However, because of a long delay I missed my connection and did not get to Limmeridge till past ten. A servant in rather a bad temper was waiting for me at the station with a carriage and when I arrived at Limmeridge House everyone had gone to bed. I was shown to my room and when I at last put out the candle, I thought to myself, 'What shall I see in my dreams tonight? The woman in white? Or the unknown inhabitants of this Cumberland house?'


depressed adj. dispirited or miserable 无精打采的

economically adv. sparing in the use of resources 节俭地

violently adv. using aggressive physical force 用力地

gratitude n. a feeling of being grateful to someone because they have given you something or done something for you 感激之情;知恩图报之心

recommend v. suggest as fit for some purpose or use 推荐

exclaim v. cry out suddenly esp. in anger, surprise, pain etc. (出于气愤、惊讶、痛苦等)大喊;惊叫

character n. the collective qualities that distinguish a person or thing 特点;品行

apply for make a formal request for something to be done, given etc. 申请

be lost in be engrossed in 全神贯注于……

tighten v. make or become tight or tighter 握紧;攥紧

colourless adj. without colour 没有颜色的

suspect v. be inclined to accuse mentally 怀疑

shock n. a sudden disturbing effect 震惊;吃惊

companion n. a person who accompanies another 伙伴

baronet n. member of lowest British hereditary titled order 准男爵

relieved adj. freed from anxiety or distress 松了一口气

murmur v. utter in a low voice 低声说

adventure n. an unusual and exciting experience 不同寻常又令人兴奋的经历

asylum n. institution offering shelter and support to the mentally ill 精神病院

imprison v. put into prison 囚禁

inhabitant n. one who lives in a place 居住者

1.月下邂逅

那是7月的最后一天。漫长、炎热的夏季已经接近尾声,但我觉得身体不太舒服,心情也有些压抑。我没什么钱,不大可能离开尘土飞扬的伦敦,只得在伦敦的住处和母亲的家中将就这个秋天了。

母亲和妹妹萨拉住在伦敦北郊汉普斯特德的一所小房子里,我每星期会去看她们两次。今天我到那里的时候,天已经快黑了。刚一按门铃,我的意大利朋友,佩斯卡教授就用力打开了门,箭步冲出来迎接我。

佩斯卡由于政治原因从意大利来到英国,在这里做语言教师,安顿了下来。他个头不高,性格古怪而天真,极力表现出比英国人还地道的英国做派。我曾经和他在几个家庭里同为家庭教师,所以经常见面。有一天,我在布赖顿碰到他,两人说好一同到海滨游泳。他当时非常兴奋,我根本没想到他竟然不会游泳!幸好他突然沉下去的时候,我潜进水里把他救了上来。从那以后,他对我感激不尽,我们成了朋友,而这天晚上他的感恩之举改变了我的一生。

大家齐聚客厅时,他说:“嘿,朋友们,我有一个好消息要告诉你们。我的东家让我为英格兰北部一个富有的人家推荐一名绘画教师。你们猜我推荐了谁?我推荐的是世界上最好的绘画教师——沃尔特·哈特里特先生!”

“亲爱的佩斯卡,你对沃尔特真是太好了!”母亲说道。“你真是好心又慷慨!”

我本人也很感激他的好意,但是总觉得有一种莫名的不安。不过我还是热情地跟他道谢,向他打听一些具体情况。他给我的条子上说坎伯兰郡利默里奇庄园的弗雷德里克·费尔利先生要聘请一位优秀的绘画教师,教他的两个侄女画画,聘期至少四个月。受聘教师将住在利默里奇庄园,薪水是一星期4英镑。应聘教师必须出具品行良好的证明信。

这的确是一份令人心动的工作,但不知为什么我就是兴奋不起来。不管怎样,既然母亲和妹妹都认为这是个好机会,我也不愿伤害佩斯卡的感情,于是我答应应聘。

转天早晨,我把推荐信寄给佩斯卡的雇主,四天之后传来消息说,费尔利先生接受了我的应聘,要我立即动身前往坎伯兰郡。我做好了第二天动身的准备,晚上步行到汉普斯特德向母亲和妹妹道别。

离开她们已是子夜时分,深蓝的天空满月高悬,看不见一颗星星,空气温暖宜人。我决定走那条稍远一点儿的路回家,先穿过汉普斯特德荒地,再走通往市中心的那条路。不一会儿,我来到十字路口,踏上了通向伦敦的大路。我满脑子在想着坎伯兰郡两位小姐的事,突然一只手从后面拍了拍我的肩膀,吓得我心跳都快停止了。

我猛地转过身,攥紧了手杖。

我眼前站着一个白衣女人,仿佛从天而降。我惊得一句话也说不出来。

“那条路是去伦敦的吗?”那女人开口问道。

我仔细打量着她。这时已将近凌晨1点了。借着月光我只能看出一张年轻却没有血色的脸,一对哀伤的大眼睛和淡棕色的头发。她看上去镇定自若。我猜不出她是个什么样的女人,这么晚了为什么孤身一人在外面。可是她看上去没有恶意,实际上还流露出一丝哀伤和纯真。

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“你听见我说话了吗?”她很快地轻声说。

“是的,”我赶忙回答,“是那条路。请原谅,你出现得太突然,吓了我一跳。”

“你不会怀疑我在做什么坏事吧?”

“不,不是。只不过突然看到你,吓了一跳。”

“我听到你走过来,”她说,“就先躲在树后看你是什么样的人,然后才敢同你说话的。我能信赖你吗?”她不安地看着我的脸。

她看起来实在是非常孤独和无助,这大大地激起了我的同情。“说吧,我能为你做什么,”我说,“只要我能做的,一定帮忙。”

“哦,谢谢,谢谢。你真是个好人。”她的声音有些颤抖,“我对伦敦一无所知,这时候还有出租马车吗?你能告诉我哪里能找辆车吗?你能保证不要多问吗?我在伦敦有朋友,她会帮我的,就是这样——你能保证吗?”

她神色紧张地朝大路张望,然后又回头看我。

我怎么能够拒绝呢?她紧张而慌乱的样子令人不安。

“你能保证吗?”她再一次问。

“我保证。”

我们一起朝伦敦市中心走去。这真像是一场梦——走在熟悉的路上,身旁多了一位陌生、神秘的同路人。

“你认识伦敦有准男爵爵位的人吗?”她突然问我。

从这个奇怪的问题可以看出她对我还是有所怀疑,当我告诉她我一个准男爵也不认识时,她似乎才松了一口气。我进一步追问,她低声告诉我一个准男爵害过她,她不愿说出他的名字。她说她从汉普郡来,问我是否住在伦敦。我告诉她我是住在伦敦,但天一亮就要去坎伯兰郡了。

“坎伯兰郡!”她轻声重复着,“啊,我要是也能去那儿就好了。我曾在坎伯兰郡的利默里奇村度过一段快乐的时光,真想再看一看利默里奇庄园。”

利默里奇庄园!我停住脚步,感到很惊讶。

“怎么啦?”她急切地问,“你听到我们后面有人在喊吗?”

“不,不是。因为我最近听说过利默里奇庄园,你认识那里的什么人吗?”

“以前认识,”她回答,“不过费尔利夫人已经死了,她丈夫也死了,他们的小女儿可能已经结婚离开了那里。”

若不是看见一辆出租马车,她也许会告诉我更多的事情。我叫住马车,她很快上了车。

我说:“还是让我把你平平安安地送到朋友家吧。”

“不,不,”她大声说,“我现在很安全,你就让我自己走吧。你答应过我的!谢谢你,谢谢。”

她抓住我的手,吻了一下,然后推开。马车的影子消失在夜幕中的大路上——白衣女人也不见了。

十分钟后,我还走在同一条路上,回想着刚才发生的怪事,忽然身后传来车轮的声音。两个人坐着敞篷马车从我身边经过,他们看见路上有个警察在巡逻,就停下车来。

“警官!”一个人说,“你看没看见一个女人从这条路上走过,一个穿白衣服的女人?”

“没有,先生。怎么啦?她做了什么?”

“做了什么!她从精神病院跑出来了。”

精神病院!可是我不觉得那个女人是疯子。她神色紧张,有点儿怪,但并不疯。我究竟做了什么?是帮助一个被无端关进精神病院的女人逃跑了?还是没有看管好一个可能伤害别人的病人?这些问题让我回到家后心神不定,难以入睡,直到该起床动身前往坎伯兰郡了,还是没有睡着。

*  *  *

我的行程安排是先到卡莱尔,然后换乘开往利默里奇的火车,可是由于去卡莱尔的车晚点了许多,我没有赶上转乘的车,直到10点多才到利默里奇。一个脾气很差的仆人赶了一辆马车在车站等我,到利默里奇庄园的时候,那儿的人都已经睡了。我被带到了房间,最后吹熄蜡烛睡觉的时候,我想:“今晚我会梦见谁呢?那个白衣女人?还是坎伯兰郡这个庄园里的陌生人?”

2
Life at Limmeridge House

When I got up the next morning, I was greeted by bright sunlight and a view of blue sea through the window. The future suddenly seemed full of promise. I found my way down to the breakfast-room and there, looking out of a window with her back turned to me, was a young woman with a perfect figure. But when she turned and walked towards me, I saw to my surprise that her face was ugly. Hair grew on her upper lip, and her mouth was large and firm. It was almost a man's face, but the friendly smile she gave me softened it and made her look more womanly. She welcomed me in a pleasant, educated voice and introduced herself as Marian Halcombe, Miss Fairlie's half-sister.

'My mother was twice married,' she explained, in her easy, friendly manner. 'The first time to Mr Halcombe, my father, and the second time to Mr Fairlie, my half-sister's father. My father was a poor man, and Miss Fairlie's father was a rich man. I've got nothing, and she has a fortune. I'm dark and ugly, and she's fair and pretty.' She said all this quite happily. 'My sister and I are very fond of each other, so you must please both of us, Mr Hartright, or please neither of us.'

She then told me that Miss Fairlie had a headache that morning and was being looked after by Mrs Vesey, an elderly lady who had once been Miss Fairlie's governess.

'So we shall be alone at breakfast, Mr Hartright,' she said. 'As for Mr Fairlie, your employer, you will doubtless meet him later. He is Miss Fairlie's uncle, a single man, who became Miss Fairlie's guardian when her parents died. He suffers from some mysterious illness of the nerves, and never leaves his rooms.'

While we ate breakfast, she described the quiet, regular life that she and her sister led. 'Do you think you will get used to it?' she said. 'Or will you be restless, and wish for some adventure?'

Hearing the word 'adventure' reminded me of my meeting with the woman in white, and her reference to Mrs Fairlie. I told Miss Halcombe all about my adventure, and she showed an eager interest, especially in the mention of her mother.

'But you didn't find out the woman's name?' she said.

'I'm afraid not. Only that she came from Hampshire.'

'Well, I shall spend the morning,' said Miss Halcombe, 'looking through my mother's letters. I'm sure I will find some clues there to explain this mystery. Lunch is at two o'clock, Mr Hartright, and I shall introduce you to my sister then.'

After breakfast Mr Fairlie's personal servant, Louis, came to tell me that Mr Fairlie would like to see me. I followed the servant upstairs and was shown into a large room full of art treasures. There, in an armchair, sat a small, pale, delicate-looking man of about fifty. Despite his fine clothes and the valuable rings on his soft white fingers, there was something very unattractive about him.

'So glad to have you here, Mr Hartright,' he said in a high, complaining voice. 'Please sit down, but don't move the chair. In my state of nerves any movement is painful to me. May I ask if you have found everything satisfactory here at Limmeridge?'

When I began to reply, he at once raised his hand to stop me.

'Please excuse me. But could you speak more softly? I simply cannot bear loud voices, or indeed, any kind of loud sound.'

The interview did not last long as Mr Fairlie quickly lost interest in it. He informed me that the ladies would make all the arrangements for their drawing lessons.

'I suffer so much from my nerves, Mr Hartright,' he said. 'Do you mind ringing the bell for Louis? Thank you. Good morning!'

With great relief I left the room, and spent the rest of the morning looking forward to lunchtime, when I would be introduced to Miss Fairlie.

*  *  *

At two o'clock I entered the dining room and found Miss Halcombe seated at the table with a rather fat lady who smiled all the time. This, I discovered, was Mrs Vesey. We started eating and before long we had finished lunch, with still no sign of Miss Fairlie. Miss Halcombe noticed my frequent glances at the door.

'I understand you, Mr Hartright,' she said. 'You are wondering about your other student. Well, she has got over her headache, but did not want any lunch. If you will follow me, I think I can find her somewhere in the garden.'

We walked out together along a path through the garden, until we came to a pretty summer-house. Inside I could see a young lady standing near a table, looking out at the view and turning the pages of a little drawing book. This was Miss Laura Fairlie.

How can I describe her? How can I separate this moment from all that has happened since then? In a drawing I later made of her she appears as a light, youthful figure wearing a simple white and blue striped dress and a summer hat. Her hair is light brown, almost gold, and she has eyes that are clear and blue, with a look of truth in them. They give her whole face such a charm that it is difficult to notice each individual feature: the delicate, though not perfectly straight, nose; the sweet, sensitive mouth. The life and beauty of her face lies in her eyes.

Such was my impression, but at the same time I felt there was something about her that I could not explain — something that I ought to remember, but could not. In fact, I was thinking about this so much that I could hardly answer when she greeted me.

Miss Halcombe, believing I was shy, quickly said, 'Look at your perfect student,' and she pointed at the sketches. 'She has already started work before your lessons have begun. You must show them to Mr Hartright, Laura, when we go for a drive.'

Miss Fairlie laughed with bright good humour.

'I hope he will give his true opinion of them and not just say something to please me,' she said.

'May I enquire why you say that?' I asked.

'Because I shall believe all that you tell me,' she answered simply.

In those few words she gave me the key to her own trusting, truthful character.

Later we went for our promised drive, but I must confess that I was far more interested in Miss Fairlie's conversation than her sketches. I soon realized I was behaving more like a guest than a drawing teacher and when I was on my own again I felt uneasy and dissatisfied with myself.

At dinner that evening these feelings soon disappeared, and when the meal was over, we went into a large sitting room with glass doors leading into the garden. Mrs Vesey fell asleep in an armchair and Miss Halcombe sat near a window to look through her mother's letters. At my request Miss Fairlie played the piano.

How will I ever forget that peaceful picture? The flowers outside, the music of Mozart, Miss Halcombe reading the letters in the half-light, the delicate outline of Miss Fairlie's face against the dark wall. It was an evening of sights and sounds to remember for ever.

Later, when Miss Fairlie had finished playing and had wandered out into the moonlit garden, Miss Halcombe called me.

'Mr Hartright, will you come here for a minute?'

I went over and she showed me a letter.

'It's from my mother to her second husband twelve years ago. She mentions a lady from Hampshire called Mrs Catherick, who had come to look after her sick sister living in the village. It seems she brought her only child with her, a little girl called Anne, who was about a year older than Laura. I was at a school in Paris at the time. My mother, who took a great interest in the village school, says the little girl was slow in learning so she gave her lessons here at the house. She also gave her some of Laura's white dresses and white hats, saying she looked better in white than any other colour. She says that little Anne Catherick was so grateful, and loved her so much, that one day she kissed her hand and said, "I'll always wear white as long as I live. It will help me to remember you."'

Miss Halcombe stopped and looked at me.

'Did the woman you met that night seem young enough to be twenty-two or twenty-three?'

'Yes, Miss Halcombe, as young as that.'

'And was she dressed from head to foot, all in white?'

'All in white.'

From where I sat, I could see Miss Fairlie walking in the garden, and the whiteness of her dress in the moonlight suddenly made my heart beat faster.

'Now listen to what my mother says at the end of the letter,' Miss Halcombe continued. 'It will surprise you. She says that perhaps the real reason for her liking little Anne Catherick so much was that she looked exactly like —'

Before she could finish, I jumped up. Outside stood Miss Fairlie, a white figure alone in the moonlight. And suddenly I realized what it was that I had been unable to remember — it was the extraordinary likeness between Miss Laura Fairlie and the runaway from the asylum, the woman in white.

'You see it!' said Miss Halcombe. 'Just as my mother saw the likeness between them years ago.'

'Yes,' I replied. 'But very unwillingly. To connect that lonely, friendless woman, even by an accidental likeness, to Miss Fairlie disturbs me very much. I don't like to think of it. Please call her in from that horrible moonlight!'

'We won't say anything about this likeness to Laura,' she said. 'It will be a secret between you and me.' Then she called Miss Fairlie in, asking her to play the piano again; and so my first, eventful day at Limmeridge House came to an end.

*  *  *

The days passed, the weeks passed, and summer changed into a golden autumn. A peaceful, happy time, but at last, I had to confess to myself my real feelings for Miss Fairlie.

I loved her.

Every day I was near her in that dangerous closeness which exists between teacher and student. Often, as we bent over her sketch-book, our hands and faces almost touched. I breathed the perfume of her hair. I should have put a professional distance between myself and her, as I had always done with my students in the past. But I did not, and it was soon too late.

By the third month of my stay in Cumberland, I was lost in dreams of love and blind to the dangers ahead of me. Then the first warning finally came — from her. In the space of one night, she changed towards me. There was a sudden nervous distance, and a kind of sadness, in her attitude. The pain I felt at that moment is beyond description. But I knew then that she had changed because she had suddenly discovered not only my feelings, but her own as well. This change was also reflected in Miss Halcombe, who said nothing unusual to me, but who had developed a new habit of always watching me. This new and awful situation continued for some time until, on a Thursday, near the end of the third month, I was at last rescued by the sensible and courageous Miss Halcombe.

'Have you got a moment for me?' she asked after breakfast. 'Shall we go into the garden?'

We walked to the summer-house and went inside. Miss Halcombe turned to me. 'Mr Hartright, what I have to say to you I can say here. Now, I know that you are a good man who always acts correctly. Your story about that unhappy woman in London proves that. As your friend, I must tell you that I have discovered your feelings for my sister, Laura. Although you have done nothing wrong, except show weakness, I must tell you to leave Limmeridge House before any harm is done. And there is something else I must tell you, which will also give you pain. Will you shake hands with your friend, Marian Halcombe, first?'

She spoke with such kindness that I shook her hand.

'You must leave because Laura Fairlie is to be married.'

The last word went like a bullet to my heart. I turned white, I felt cold. With one word all my hopes disappeared.

'You must put an end to your feelings, here, where you first met her. I will hide nothing from you. She is not marrying for love, but because of a promise she made to her father just before he died. The man she is to marry arrives here next Monday.'

'Let me go today,' I said bitterly. 'The sooner the better.'

'No, not today. That would look strange. Wait till tomorrow, after the post has arrived. Say to Mr Fairlie that you have received bad news and must return to London.'

'I will follow your advice, Miss Halcombe,' I said sadly. 'But may I ask who the gentleman engaged to Miss Fairlie is?'

'A rich man from Hampshire.'

Hampshire! Again a connection with Anne Catherick!

'And his name?' I asked, as calmly as I could.

'Sir Percival Glyde.'

Sir! I remembered Anne Catherick's suspicious question about Baronets, and my voice shook a little as I asked, 'Is he a Baronet?'

She paused for a moment, then answered, 'Yes, a Baronet.'


figure n. bodily shape 身材

womanly adj. having or showing qualities associated with women 具有或表现出女子气质的

fortune n. great wealth; a large sum of money 大笔财富

guardian n. a person having legal custody of another person when that person is incapable of managing his or her own affairs 监护人

reference n. the act of referring to a person etc. for information 提及;提到

delicate adj. easily made ill 娇弱的

bear v. tolerate; put up with 忍受

good morning courteous farewell 早上(上午)礼貌的告别方式

get over recover from an illness 恢复;痊愈

youthful adj. having freshness or vigour of youth 年轻的

enquire v. ask a question

confess v. admit 承认

uneasy adj. disturbed or uncomfortable in mind or body 不自在的;不舒服的

peaceful adj. characterized by peace, tranquil 平静的

extraordinary adj. unusual or remarkable 不同寻常的

runaway n. a person who flees from enemy, danger or a master 逃跑者

eventful adj. marked by noteworthy events 发生事情比较多的

professional adj. connected with a profession 职业的

blind adj. without foresight, intellectual perception or adequate information 不知道的;不了解的

sensible adj. reasonable, judicious 明智的;理智的

engaged adj. under a promise to marry 订婚

pause v. to cease or suspend an action temporarily 停顿

2.在利默里奇庄园的日子

第二天起床,迎接我的是灿烂的阳光和窗外湛蓝的大海。未来突然好像一片光明。我下楼来到早餐室,一位身材优美的年轻女士正背对我望着窗外。当她转身向我走来时,我吃惊地发现她长得很丑。她的上唇上长着胡须,嘴唇又大又厚。尽管脸长得像个男人,但是友好的微笑使她看上去有了一些女人味儿。她同我打招呼,声音悦耳,听起来很有教养。她告诉我她叫玛丽安·哈尔库姆,费尔利小姐同母异父的姐姐。

“我母亲结过两次婚,”她以一种平和友善的语调对我说,“第一次嫁给哈尔库姆先生,我父亲,第二次嫁给费尔利先生,费尔利小姐的父亲。我父亲一贫如洗,费尔利小姐的父亲却是个有钱人。我本人一无所有,但她很富有。我长得又黑又丑,她又白又漂亮。”她兴致勃勃地说着这一切,“我们姐妹俩非常要好,先生,所以你必须要讨好我们俩,要不就谁也别讨好。”

她又告诉我费尔利小姐早上头疼,维西夫人正在照顾她,维西夫人原来是费尔利小姐的家庭教师。

“今天早饭就我们两个了,哈特里特先生,”她说,“至于费尔利先生,你的雇主,你肯定得过些时候才能见到他了,他是费尔利小姐的叔叔,单身一人,费尔利小姐父母死后,他就成了她的监护人。他患有一种古怪的神经疾病,从不离开他的房间半步。”

吃早饭的时候,她对我讲了她们姐妹俩平静而规律的生活。“你觉得你能适应这样的生活吗?”她问,“你是否会烦躁不安,希望有些新奇的事情发生?”

“新奇”这个词让我想起遇到白衣女人的事,她曾经提到过费尔利夫人。当我把我的奇异经历告诉哈尔库姆小姐时,她对这件事表现出浓厚的兴趣,特别对提到她的母亲这个细节。

“你不知道那女人叫什么名字吗?”

“不知道。只知道她从汉普郡来。”

“那好吧,我今天早上,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“就翻一翻母亲的信件。我想一定会从中找出点线索解开这个谜。午饭时间是两点,哈特里特先生,到时我会把你介绍给我妹妹。”

早饭后,费尔利先生的贴身仆人路易斯过来告诉我费尔利先生要见我。我跟他上了楼,被带到一个很大的房间,里面有许多艺术珍品。扶手椅上坐着一个苍白羸弱的小个子男人,大概五十岁上下。尽管他穿着考究,白皙柔软的手指上带着贵重的戒指,但是他身上有一种让人非常不喜欢的东西。

“非常高兴你能来这里工作,哈特里特先生,”他的声音尖锐刺耳,还带着一丝怨气,“请坐,但请不要动椅子。任何动静都会刺激我的神经,让我难受。你在利默里奇感到还满意吗?”

我刚要说话,他又马上举手示意我先别说。

“请原谅,你说话声音轻点吗?我受不了大声说话,任何太响的声音我都受不了。”

我们的面谈没有持续很长时间,因为费尔利先生很快就没了兴趣。他告诉我小姐们会安排所有关于绘画课的事宜。

“我的神经很差,哈特里特先生,你能帮我摇铃叫一下路易斯吗?谢谢。再见。”

离开他的房间,我长出了一口气。上午剩下的时间我一直在等着吃午饭,到时就可以见到费尔利小姐了。

*  *  *

两点钟,我来到餐厅,看到哈尔库姆小姐同一位体态丰满的女士坐在桌旁,那位女士一直面带微笑。她就是维西夫人。我们开始一起吃饭,不一会儿就吃完了,但一直没见到费尔利小姐的影子。哈尔库姆小姐注意到我不断地朝门口张望。

“我知道你在想什么,哈特里特先生,”她说,“你一定在想你的另一个学生。她头痛已经好了,但不想吃东西。如果你跟我来,我可以在花园里找到她。”

我们一起沿着花园的小路来到一个漂亮的凉亭前。我看到里面有一位小姐站在一张桌子旁,望着外面的风景,手中翻动着一本小画册。这就是劳拉·费尔利小姐。

我该怎样描述她呢?我怎样才能把此时此刻同后来发生的一切分开呢?在我后来画的一张她的肖像里,她年轻活泼,身穿式样简单的蓝白条纹连衣裙,头戴遮阳帽。她的头发是淡棕色,接近金色。她有一双清澈诚实的蓝眼睛,使她魅力四射,让你不再注意她脸上的其他细节:小巧但不很直的鼻子,还有甜美动人的双唇。她脸部的活力和美丽都源自那双眼睛。

这就是她给我的印象,但同时她身上有一些我无法解释的东西——一些我应该记得,却想不起来的东西。我完全沉浸在自己的思绪里,甚至她向我打招呼时,我几乎都说不出话来。

哈尔库姆小姐可能觉得我是个腼腆的人,马上说:“看看你的学生多好,”然后又指了指那些画,“你的课还没开始,她已经开始自己画了。劳拉,我们一会儿坐马车出去的时候,把你的画给哈特里特先生看看。”

费尔利小姐开心地笑起来。

“我希望先生把真实的评价告诉我,不要光说好话哄我。”她说。

“请问你为什么这么说呢?”我问她。

“因为你的任何评价我都会相信。”她回答得很爽快。

从这些话里我看出她天性真诚,会毫无保留地相信他人。

过了一会儿,我们按计划坐马车出去,然而我必须承认比起费尔利小姐的画,我对她的言谈更感兴趣。我很快意识到自己的表现与其说像绘画教师不如说更像客人。自己一个人的时候,我感到有些不自在,对自己不满意。

晚饭的时候,这些感觉很快消失了。吃罢晚饭,我们来到一间大客厅,这里装有通往花园的玻璃门。维西夫人在扶手椅上睡着了,哈尔库姆小姐在翻阅她母亲的信件。在我的请求下,费尔利小姐弹起了钢琴。

这样安逸的情景我怎能忘记呢?屋外的鲜花,莫扎特的音乐,哈尔库姆小姐在微暗的光线下读信的样子,费尔利小姐映在昏暗的墙壁上的美丽侧脸,今晚这一切声音和情景都令人难以忘怀。

过了一会儿,费尔利小姐弹完了琴,走进月光下的花园。哈尔库姆小姐叫我。

“哈特里特先生,你能过来一下吗?”

我走过去,她递给我一封信。

“这是妈妈12年前写给她第二个丈夫的信。信中提到从汉普郡来的凯瑟里克太太,她是来照料住在村子里生病的妹妹的。她好像把她的独生女儿小安妮带来了,安妮比劳拉大1岁左右。当时我在巴黎读书,妈妈那时对村子里的学校非常感兴趣,她觉得小安妮学习比较吃力,就在家里辅导她。妈妈还把劳拉的一些白连衣裙和帽子送给她,说安妮穿白色衣服最好看。她说安妮·凯瑟里克很感激,也很喜欢她。一天,她吻过妈妈的手,说:‘我一辈子都会穿白色衣服,因为白色让我永远记着你。’”

哈尔库姆小姐停下来看着我,问道:

“你那天晚上碰到的那个女人,是不是只有二十二三岁的样子?”

“没错,哈尔库姆小姐,差不多那么大。”

“她是不是从头到脚都穿白色?”

“的确都是白色的。”

从我坐的地方可以看到费尔利小姐在花园中散步,月光下她的白色连衣裙突然间使我的心跳加快了。

“听听妈妈在信的末尾是怎么说的,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“你一定会感到吃惊的。她说她之所以那么喜欢小安妮·凯瑟里克,可能是因为她长得特别像——”

没等她说完,我一下子跳了起来。外面站着费尔利小姐,月光下一个孤零零的白色身影,猛然间我明白了我没有想起来的是什么了——就是劳拉·费尔利小姐同从精神病院跑出来的白衣女人惊人地相似。

“你看出来了!”哈尔库姆小姐说,“和妈妈一样,她多年前也看出了她们之间惊人的相似。”

“是的,”我说,“但是我非常不愿意把那个孤独无依的女人同费尔利小姐联系起来,即使这全是出于偶然,也让我内心不安。我不想再想这件事。还是叫她进来吧,那月光太可怕了!”

“我们不要对劳拉讲任何有关相貌相似的事,”她说,“这是我们之间的秘密。”说完,她招呼费尔利小姐进屋来,让她再弹一首曲子。就这样,我在利默里奇不平凡的第一天结束了。

*  *  *

日子一天天、一个星期又一个星期地过去了,夏季已被金秋取代。这是宁静而快乐的季节,然而,我最终还是必须向自己承认对费尔利小姐的感觉。

我爱上了她。

作为师生,每天我都和她那么接近,这很危险。很多次,在低头翻看写生簿的时候,我们的手和脸几乎要碰到,我可以闻到她头发的香味。我本应与她保持教师与学生应有的距离,我和过去教过的学生都是这样。但是我现在没有,而且已经来不及了。

来坎伯兰郡的第三个月,我已经完全沉浸在爱的幻想中,对将要到来的危险一无所知。第一个危险的信号终于来了——而且就来自于。一夜之间,她对我的态度发生了变化,她对我有一种拘束的疏离感,还有一种莫名的哀伤。我当时的痛苦无法言表。不过后来我才知道她是因为发现了我的感受,也发现了她自己的感受才有这样的变化。这种变化还反映在哈尔库姆小姐身上,她虽然没跟我说什么,但是开始经常注视着我。这种可怕的新状况一直持续到将近第三个月末的一个星期四。最后,理智、勇敢的哈尔库姆小姐帮我得到了解脱。

“能占用你一点儿时间吗?”早饭后她这样问我,“我们去花园走走好吗?”

我们来到凉亭,走了进去。哈尔库姆小姐转向我;“哈特里特先生,我要向你说的话在这儿可以说了。我知道你是一位举止得体的好人,你跟我讲的关于伦敦那个不幸女人的事证明了这一点。但是,作为你的朋友,我必须告诉你,我发现了你对我妹妹劳拉的感情。除了表现得有些软弱,你没做错什么,不过我还是必须劝你在造成伤害之前离开利默里奇庄园。我还有些事要告诉你,可能会让你痛苦。你能不能先和你的朋友玛丽安·哈尔库姆握握手?”

她说得非常诚恳,我握了握她的手。

“你必须离开这里,因为劳拉·费尔利就要结婚了。”

最后那个词就像一颗子弹一样穿过我的胸膛。我的脸色苍白,全身冰冷。就因为这一个词,我所有的希望都消失了。

“你必须在这里结束这段感情,就在你们初次相识的地方。我不会对你有任何隐瞒,她不是为了爱才结婚,而是因为她在她父亲临终时做的承诺。她要嫁的人下星期一到这里。”

“我今天就走,”我难过地说,“越快越好。”

“不,不要今天走。那样会让别人觉得奇怪。等到明天邮差来了再走。你就跟费尔利先生说收到了坏消息,必须马上回伦敦去。”

“我按你说的做,哈尔库姆小姐,”我伤心地说,“不过,你能告诉我同费尔利小姐订婚的先生是谁吗?”

“是汉普郡的一个有钱人。”

汉普郡!又一个和安妮·凯瑟里克有关的线索!

“他叫什么?”我尽量平静地问。

“珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士。”

爵士!我想起安妮·凯瑟里克问过的有关准男爵的问题。“他是准男爵吗?”我的声音有些颤抖。

她停了一停,说道:“对,他是准男爵。”

3
The unsigned letter

As I sat alone in my room later that morning, my thoughts crowded in on me. There was no reason at all for me to connect Sir Percival Glyde with the man who had made Anne Catherick so afraid — but I did. My suffering was great, but even greater was my feeling that some terrible, invisible danger lay ahead of us. Then I heard a knock at my door. It was Miss Halcombe.

'Mr Hartright, I am sorry to disturb you, but you are the only person who can advise me. A letter has just arrived for Miss Fairlie — a horrible, unsigned letter, warning her not to marry Sir Percival Glyde. It has upset my sister very much. Should I try to find out who wrote it or wait to speak to Mr Gilmore, Mr Fairlie's legal adviser, who arrives tomorrow?'

She gave me the letter. There was no greeting, no signature.

Do you believe in dreams, Miss Fairlie? Last night I dreamt I saw you in your white wedding dress in a church, so pretty, so innocent. By your side stood a man with the scar of an old wound on his right hand — a handsome man, but with a black, evil heart; a man who has brought misery to many, and who will bring misery to you. And in my dream I cried for you. Find out the past life of this man, Miss Fairlie, before you marry him. I send you this warning, because your mother was my first, my best, my only friend.

These last words suggested an idea to me, which I was afraid to mention. Was I in danger of losing my balance of mind? Why should everything lead back to the woman in white?

'I think a woman wrote this letter,' said Miss Halcombe. 'It certainly refers to Sir Percival — I remember that scar. What should I do, Mr Hartright? This mystery must be solved. Mr Gilmore is coming to discuss the financial details of Miss Fairlie's marriage, and Sir Percival arrives on Monday to fix the date of the marriage — though Miss Fairlie does not know this yet.'

The date of the marriage! Those words filled me with jealous despair. Perhaps there was some truth in this letter. If I could find the writer, perhaps I would find a way to prove that Sir Percival Glyde was not the honest man he seemed.

'I think we should begin enquiries at once,' I said. 'The longer we delay, the harder it will be to find out anything.'

We questioned the servants and learnt that the letter had been delivered by an elderly woman, who had then disappeared in the direction of the village. People in Limmeridge remembered seeing the woman, but no one could tell us who she was or where she had come from. Finally, I suggested asking the school teacher. As we approached the school door, we could hear the teacher shouting at one of the boys, saying angrily that there were no such things as ghosts. It was an awkward moment, but we went in anyway and asked our question. The teacher could tell us nothing. However, as we turned to leave, Miss Halcombe spoke to the boy standing in the corner:

'Are you the foolish boy who was talking about ghosts?'

'Yes, Miss. But I saw one! I saw it yesterday, in the churchyard. I did! It was — it was the ghost of Mrs Fairlie!'

His answer visibly shocked Miss Halcombe, and the teacher quickly stepped in to explain that the silly boy had said he had seen (or probably imagined) a woman in white standing next to Mrs Fairlie's grave as he passed the churchyard yesterday evening. There was nothing more to it than that.

'What is your opinion of this?' Miss Halcombe asked me as we went out of the school.

'The boy may have seen someone,' I said, 'but not a ghost. I think we should examine the grave. I have this suspicion, Miss Halcombe, that the writer of the letter and the imagined ghost in the churchyard might be the same person.'

She stopped, turned pale, and looked at me. 'What person?'

'Anne Catherick,' I replied. 'The woman in white.'

'I don't know why, but your suspicion frightens me,' she said slowly. 'I will show you the grave, and then I must go back to Laura. We'll meet again at the house later.'

In the churchyard I examined Mrs Fairlie's grave carefully, and noticed that the gravestone had been partly cleaned. Perhaps the person who had done the cleaning would return to finish the job. I decided to come back that evening and watch. Back at the house I explained my plan to Miss Halcombe, who seemed uneasy but made no objection. So, as the sun began to go down, I walked to the churchyard, chose my position, and waited.

After about half an hour I heard footsteps. Then two women passed in front of me and walked to the grave. One wore a long cloak with a hood over her head, hiding her face. Below the cloak a little of her dress was visible — a white dress. The other woman said something to her companion, and then walked away round the corner of the church, leaving the woman in the cloak next to the grave. After looking all around her, she took out a cloth, kissed the white cross and started to clean it.

I approached her slowly and carefully, but when she saw me, she jumped up and looked at me in terror.

There, in front of me, was the face of the woman in white.

'Don't be frightened,' I said. 'Surely you remember me?' Her eyes searched my face. 'I helped you to find the way to London,' I went on. 'Surely you have not forgotten that?'

Her face relaxed as she recognized me, and she sighed in relief. Before this, I had seen her likeness in Miss Fairlie. Now I saw Miss Fairlie's likeness in her. Except that Miss Fairlie's delicate beauty was missing from this tired face, and I could not help thinking that if ever sorrow and suffering fell on Miss Fairlie, then, and only then, they would be the living reflections of one another. It was a horrible thought.

Gently, I began to question her. I told her that I knew she had escaped from an asylum, and that I was glad I had helped her. But had she found her friend in London that night?

'Oh yes. That was Mrs Clements, who is here with me now. She was our neighbour in Hampshire, and took care of me when I was a little girl. She has always been my friend.'

'Have you no father or mother to take care of you?'

'I never saw my father — I never heard mother speak of him. And I don't get on well with her. I'd rather be with Mrs Clements, who is kind, like you.'

I learnt that she was staying with relations of Mrs Clements at a farm, three miles from the village, but there were other, harder questions I wanted to ask. Who had shut her away in an asylum? Her 'unkind' mother, perhaps? What was her motive in writing the letter to Miss Fairlie, accusing Sir Percival Glyde? Was it revenge? What wrong had Sir Percival done her?

She was easily frightened, easily confused, and could only hold one idea in her mind at a time. I tried not to alarm her. Had she ever, I asked, been wronged by a man and then abandoned? Her innocent, puzzled face told me that was not the answer.

All the time we were talking she was cleaning the gravestone with her cloth.

'Mrs Fairlie was my best friend,' she murmured. 'And her daughter...' She looked up at me, then away again, as though hiding her face in guilt. 'Is Miss Fairlie well and happy?' she whispered anxiously.

I decided to try and surprise a confession from her. 'She was not well or happy this morning, after receiving your letter. You wrote it, didn't you? It was wrong to send such a letter.'

Her face went deathly pale. Then she bent down and kissed the gravestone. 'Oh, Mrs Fairlie! Mrs Fairlie! Tell me how to save your daughter. Tell me what to do.'

'You mention no names in the letter, but Miss Fairlie knows that the person you describe is Sir Percival Glyde —'

The moment I said his name she gave such a scream of terror that my blood ran cold. Her face, now full of fear and hatred, told me everything. Without doubt the person who had shut her away in the asylum was Sir Percival Glyde.

At the sound of her scream, Mrs Clements came running and, looking angrily at me, said, 'What is it, my dear? What has this man done to you?'

'Nothing,' the poor girl said. 'He was good to me once. He helped me...' She whispered the rest in her friend's ear.

Then Mrs Clements put her arm round Anne Catherick and led her away. I watched them go, feeling great pity for that poor, pale, frightened face.

Half an hour later I was back at the house, and the story I told Miss Halcombe made her very worried.

'I am certain Sir Percival Glyde put Anne Catherick in the asylum,' I said. 'But why? What is the connection between them?'

'We must find out,' said Miss Halcombe. 'We will go to the farm tomorrow, and I will speak to Anne Catherick myself.'

*  *  *

The first thing I had to do the next morning was to ask Mr Fairlie if I could leave my job a month early. As his nerves were particularly bad, I could not speak to him directly but had to write a note, explaining that some unexpected news forced me to return to London. In reply I received a most unpleasant letter, informing me that I could go. Once, such a letter would have upset me greatly; now, I no longer cared.

Later Miss Halcombe and I walked to the farm, and Miss Halcombe went in while I waited nearby. To my surprise, she returned after only a few minutes.

'Does Anne Catherick refuse to see you?' I asked.

'Anne Catherick has gone,' replied Miss Halcombe. 'She left this morning, with Mrs Clements. The farmer's wife, Mrs Todd, has no idea why they left or where they went. She just said that Anne Catherick had been disturbed after reading something in the local newspaper a couple of days ago. I looked at the paper and saw that it mentioned Laura's future wedding. Then Mrs Todd said that Anne Catherick fainted last night, apparently in shock at something mentioned by one of the servant girls from our house, who was visiting the farm on her evening off.'

We hurried back to the house to question the servant girl. Miss Halcombe asked her if she had mentioned Sir Percival Glyde's name while at the farm. 'Oh yes,' the girl replied. 'I said he was coming on Monday.'

At that moment a cab arrived and Mr Gilmore, the family friend and legal adviser, got out. He was an elderly man, pleasant-looking and neatly dressed. Miss Halcombe introduced me, and then went away to discuss family matters with him. I wandered out into the garden. My time at Limmeridge House was nearly at an end, and I wanted to say a last goodbye to the places where I had so often walked with Miss Fairlie, in the dream-time of my happiness and my love. But the autumn day was grey and damp, and those golden memories were already fading.

As I returned to the house, I met Mr Gilmore.

'Ah, Mr Hartright,' he said. 'Miss Halcombe has told me how helpful you have been about this strange letter received by Miss Fairlie. I want you to know that the investigation is now in my safe hands. I have written to Sir Percival Glyde's lawyer in London and I'm sure we will receive a satisfactory explanation.'

'I'm afraid I am not so sure as you,' was my reply.

'Well, well,' said Mr Gilmore. 'We will wait for events.'

At dinner that evening — my last dinner at Limmeridge House — it was a hard battle to keep my self-control. I saw that it was not easy for Miss Fairlie, either. She gave me her hand as she had done in happier days, but her fingers trembled and her face was pale. Mr Gilmore kept the conversation going, and afterwards we went into the sitting room as usual. Miss Fairlie sat at the piano.

'Shall I play some of those pieces by Mozart that you like? Will you sit in your old chair near me?' she asked nervously.

'As it is my last night, I will,' I answered.

'I am very sorry you are going,' she said, almost in a whisper.

'I shall remember those kind words, Miss Fairlie, long after tomorrow has gone,' I replied.

'Don't speak about tomorrow.'

Then she played, and at last it was time to say goodnight.

The next morning I found Miss Halcombe and Miss Fairlie waiting for me downstairs. When I began to speak, Miss Fairlie turned and hurried from the room. I tried to control my voice, but could only say, 'Will you write to me, Miss Halcombe?'

She took both my hands in hers, and her face grew beautiful with the force of her generosity and pity. 'Of course I will, Walter. Goodbye — and God bless you!'

She left, and a few seconds later Miss Fairlie returned, holding something. It was her own sketch of the summer-house where we had first met. With tears in her eyes, she offered it to me,' to remind you', she whispered. My own tears fell as I kissed her hand, then I turned to go. She sank into a chair, her head dropped on her arms. At that moment I knew that Laura Fairlie loved me too. But it was over. We were separated.


crowd v. come together in a crowd 聚集;集中

invisible adj. not visible to the eye 看不见的

jealous adj. afraid, suspicious or resentful of rivalry in love or affection 嫉妒的

deliver v. distribute letters to the addressee

approach v. come near or nearer to a place 接近;靠近

examine v. look closely at 仔细地看

objection n. an expression or feeling of opposition or disapproval 反对;不同意

terror n. extreme fear 恐惧;恐怖

relax v. become less rigid or tense 放松

recognize v. identify a person an already known 认出来

relation n. a member of one's family 亲戚;亲属

motive n. factor or circumstance that induces a person to act on a particular way 动机

revenge n. retaliation for an offence or injury 复仇

abandon v. forsake or desert 抛弃

scream n. a loud high-pitched cry expressing fear, pain etc. 惊叫;尖叫

faint v. lose consciousness 失去知觉;晕倒

fade v. diminish 减退

sink v. settle down 坐下

3.匿名信件

那天上午,我一个人坐在房间里,思绪异常纷乱。我本来没有任何理由把珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士和那个让安妮·凯瑟里克害怕的人联系起来——但我的确把他们连在了一起。我很痛苦,但也强烈地感到将有看不见的可怕危险到来。这时,我听到有人敲门,来的是哈尔库姆小姐。

“哈特里特先生,很抱歉打扰你,可是只有你能给我出个主意了。刚收到一封给费尔利小姐的信——一封可怕的匿名信,警告她不要和珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士结婚。这封信让妹妹非常不安。我是应该查一下谁写的信,还是等明天费尔利先生的法律顾问吉尔摩先生来了问问他?”

她把信递给我,上面没有问候语,也没有签名。


你相信梦吗,费尔利小姐?昨天夜里我梦见你穿着白色婚纱站在教堂里,你是那么漂亮,那么纯洁。你身边站着一个右手有旧伤疤的男人,他面容英俊,但内心邪恶,他曾让许多人痛苦,也会让你痛苦。在梦里我为你哭泣。费尔利小姐,弄清这个人的过去再同他结婚。我之所以给你如此的忠告是因为你的母亲是我第一个朋友,也是最好的、唯一的朋友。


信的最后几个字让我想到了一件事,但我不敢说出来。是不是我脑子出了问题?为什么所有的事情都指向那个白衣女人?

“我认为这封信是一个女人写的,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“信里说的肯定是珀西瓦尔爵士,我记得他的那条疤。我该怎么办,哈特里特先生?这个谜一定得解开。吉尔摩先生要来谈费尔利小姐婚事的财务细节,珀西瓦尔爵士星期一来确定结婚的日期——不过费尔利小姐还不知道。”

结婚的日期!这些字眼使我又嫉妒又绝望。也许这封信里有些话是真的。如果我能找到写信人,也许会有办法证明珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士并不像他外表看起来那样正直。

“我觉得我们应该马上开始调查,”我说,“耽误的时间越长,越难找到线索。”

我们问了仆人,得知信是一个上了年纪的女人送来的,那女人朝村子的方向走去,很快就消失了。利默里奇庄园的人说记得见过那个女人,但没人知道她是谁,从哪里来。最后我建议去问一问学校的老师。快到学校门口的时候,我们听见老师正大声训斥一个学生说根本就没有什么鬼。这是个尴尬的时刻,但我们还是进去向老师提出了我们的问题。老师没能告诉我们任何信息。然而,在我们转身离开时,哈尔库姆小姐对站在角落的男孩说:

“你就是说有鬼的那个傻孩子?”

“是的,小姐。可我真的看到了!昨天在教堂的墓地里看见的。我真的看见了!那鬼是……是费尔利夫人!”

孩子的话显然令哈尔库姆小姐非常吃惊。老师马上走过来解释说这傻孩子说他昨天晚上路过教堂墓地的时候,看见(或是想象)一个穿白衣服的女人站在费尔利夫人的墓旁。我们得到的消息就是这些。

“你怎么看这件事?”走出学校,哈尔库姆小姐问我。

“那男孩可能看见了什么人,”我说,“但不是鬼。我想我们应该去看看那墓地。我怀疑,哈尔库姆小姐,写信的人和那个教堂墓地里假想出来的鬼可能是同一个人。”

她停住了脚步,脸色煞白,两只眼睛紧盯着我,“那人是谁?”

“安妮·凯瑟里克,”我回答,“那个白衣女人。”

“我不知道为什么,但是你的怀疑让我很害怕,”她缓慢地说,“我带你去墓地,然后我得回去看看劳拉。我们庄园再见。”

在教堂墓地里,我仔细察看了费尔利夫人的坟墓,发现墓碑有一部分被人擦洗过。也许那人会回来继续擦洗。我决定晚上再回来看看。回到庄园,我把想法告诉了哈尔库姆小姐,她看上去有些不安,但没有表示反对。于是,太阳刚开始落山,我就走路到了教堂墓地,找了个地方,开始等待。

大约半小时后,我听到了脚步声。接着,两个女人从我前面走过,向坟墓走去。其中一个穿着斗篷,兜帽遮住了她的脸。斗篷下面可以看到一点儿她的裙角——白色的裙子。另一个女人跟她说了些什么,然后转过墙角走了。穿斗篷的女人来到坟墓旁,向周围仔细看了看,然后掏出一块布,吻了一下白色的十字架,开始擦洗墓碑。

我小心翼翼地慢慢走近那女人,她看见我后,一下子跳起来,惊恐地望着我。

出现在我眼前的正是那白衣女人的脸。

“别害怕,”我说,“你肯定记得我吧?”她打量着我的脸。“是我指给你通往伦敦的路,你肯定没忘吧?”我接着说。

她认出我以后,长出了一口气,脸上的表情也放松了。在此之前,我曾看出她和费尔利小姐的相像之处,现在我看出费尔利小姐和她的相像之处。只不过费尔利小姐的精致美丽在这张疲惫的脸上看不出来。我不禁想到,假如不幸和痛苦降临到费尔利小姐头上,她们俩就真的一模一样了。这是个可怕的想法。

我开始和缓地向她提问。我告诉她我知道她是从精神病院逃出来的,也很高兴帮助了她。不过,那天晚上她找到伦敦的朋友了吗?

“噢,找到了。就是克莱门茨太太。她现在跟我在一起。她是我们在汉普郡的邻居,我小的时候就是她照顾我。她一直是我的朋友。”

“你没有父母照顾你吗?”

“我从没见过父亲——也从没听母亲说起过他。我同母亲关系不好。我宁愿同克莱门茨太太在一起。她心地善良,就像你一样。”

我了解到她和克莱门茨太太的亲戚住在离村子3英里远的农场里,但是我还想问一些更尖锐的问题。是谁把她关进了精神病院?是对她“不好”的母亲吗?她为什么要给费尔利小姐写信指责珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士?是复仇吗?珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士做了什么对不起她的事呢?

她特别容易受惊吓,容易思绪紊乱,只能一次考虑一个问题。我尽量不惊吓她。我问她是不是有个男人做了对不起她的事,而后抛弃了她?她单纯、疑惑的表情告诉我答案是否定的。

我们交谈的过程中,她一直在用布擦拭墓碑。

“费尔利夫人是我最好的朋友,”她小声说,“她女儿……”她抬头看看我,然后又转过头去,像是由于羞愧而不愿见人,“费尔利小姐好吗?快乐吗?”她急切地轻声问。

我决定给她一个突然袭击,看是否可以让她说出真相。“她今天早上收到你的信以后很不好,很不快乐。是你写的信,对吗?你不该写那样的信。”

她的脸变得像死人一般苍白。她低下头,吻了吻墓碑,“噢,费尔利夫人!费尔利夫人!告诉我怎么才能救你的女儿。告诉我该怎么做。”

“你在信里没有提到任何人的名字,但是费尔利小姐明白你说的那个人是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士——”

我说出这个名字的时候,她害怕得惊叫起来,那叫声让我全身发冷。她的脸上充满了恐惧和仇恨,这表情说明了一切。毫无疑问,把她关进精神病院的人就是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士。

听到惊叫声,克莱门茨太太跑过来,气愤地看了看我,说:“怎么啦,亲爱的?他对你怎么啦?”

“没事,”可怜的姑娘说,“他以前帮过我,他帮我……”下面的话她跟克莱门茨太太耳语着。

然后,克莱门茨太太挽着安妮·凯瑟里克,带她走了。我望着她们远去的背影,心中充满了对那可怜姑娘的同情,她的脸色是那样苍白,那样惊恐。

半小时后,我回到了庄园。我把事情经过告诉哈尔库姆小姐后,她显得非常担心。

“我敢肯定是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士把安妮·凯瑟里克关进精神病院的,”我说,“可是他为什么这样做呢?他们之间是什么关系呢?”

“我们必须搞清楚,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“明天我们去农场,我要亲自同安妮·凯瑟里克谈谈。”

*  *  *

第二天我要做的第一件事是请求费尔利先生允许我提前一个月结束在这里的工作。因为他的精神非常不好,我不能同他直接谈,只能写一封短信,说明我收到一些意外的消息,必须回伦敦去。很快我收到一封很不客气的回信,通知我可以离开。要是过去,这样的信会让我非常沮丧,可是现在我不在乎了。

随后,哈尔库姆小姐和我步行到农场去。她进去的时候我在附近等她。令我吃惊的是没几分钟她就出来了。

“是不是安妮·凯瑟里克拒绝见你?”我问。

“安妮·凯瑟里克已经走了,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“今天早上,她同克莱门茨太太一起走的。农场主的妻子托德太太不清楚她们为什么要走,也不知道她们到哪里去了。她只告诉我几天前安妮·凯瑟里克看了当地报纸上的什么消息后,就一直心神不安。我看了那份报纸,上面提到了劳拉将要举行的婚礼。托德太太说安妮·凯瑟里克昨晚晕倒了,原因很明显,我们庄园一个女仆带来的消息吓到了她,那个女仆昨晚放假来农场做客。”

我们马上回到庄园向那个女仆了解情况。哈尔库姆小姐问她,在农场的时候是不是提到了珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士的名字。“对,提到了,”女仆回答,“我说他星期一要来庄园。”

这个时候,一辆马车停在了门口,这家的老朋友和法律顾问吉尔摩先生从车里走下来。他是一位慈眉善目、穿着考究的老人。哈尔库姆小姐为我做了引见,然后就和吉尔摩先生去谈有关家里的事务了。我走进了外面的花园。我在利默里奇庄园的日子很快就要结束了,我想同这里的一切道个别。在这个花园里,我多少次和费尔利小姐散步,这是我享受幸福,享受爱情的地方。秋日的天灰蒙蒙的,空气很潮湿,那些甜美的记忆已经开始褪色。

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我回到屋里以后,见到了吉尔摩先生。

“呵,哈特里特先生,”他对我说,“哈尔库姆小姐已经跟我说了费尔利小姐收到那封奇怪来信的事,你帮了很大的忙。我想告诉你,对这件事的调查我很有把握,我已经给珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士在伦敦的律师写了信,我相信我们会得到一个满意的答复的。”

“我倒不像你那么有把握。”我说。

“好吧,好吧,”吉尔摩先生说,“那我们就等等结果吧。”

那天吃晚饭的时候——我在利默里奇庄园的最后一次晚饭——我努力控制自己的情感。我看得出费尔利小姐也非常不自在。像以前快乐的日子里一样,她把手伸给我,但她的手指在颤抖,脸上没有一点血色。只有吉尔摩先生滔滔不绝地说这说那,之后大家像往常一样来到客厅。费尔利小姐坐到了钢琴旁。

“我弹几首你喜欢的莫扎特的曲子好吗?你还坐我旁边的椅子,好吗?”她神色不安地问我。

“这是我在这里的最后一个晚上了,我照你说的做。”我对她说。

“你要走了,我很难过。”她的声音低得几乎听不到。

“我会记住你的话,费尔利小姐,明天以后我会一直记着的。”我说。

“不要提明天。”

接下来她开始弹钢琴,最后到说晚安的时候了。

转天早晨,我看到哈尔库姆小姐和费尔利小姐在楼下等我。我刚要开口说话,费尔利小姐转身跑出了房间。我尽量控制着自己的声音,但只说了一句:“给我写信好吗,哈尔库姆小姐?”

她紧紧握住我的双手,她的慷慨和同情让她显得漂亮起来。“我当然会的,沃尔特。再见——愿上帝保佑你!”

她离开片刻后,费尔利小姐回来了,手里还拿着什么东西。那是她自己画的我们初次相见的凉亭。她眼里噙着泪水,把画递给我。“留个纪念吧。”她轻声说。我吻着她的手,眼泪禁不住流了下来。我转身离去。她一下子跌坐到椅子上,头垂到了手臂上。那一刻,我明白劳拉·费尔利也在爱着我。但是,一切都结束了,我们被分开了。

在利默里奇庄园的日子

PART ONE
THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
第一部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

1
A meeting by moonlight

It was the last day of July. The long hot summer was coming to an end, and I was feeling ill and depressed. I was also short of money, so I had little chance of escaping from the dusty London streets, and would have to spend the autumn economically between my rooms in the city and my mother's house.

My mother and my sister, Sarah, lived in a cottage in Hampstead, in the northern suburbs, and I usually went to see them twice a week. This evening I arrived at the gate of the cottage just as it was starting to get dark. I had hardly rung the bell before the door was opened violently, and my Italian friend, Professor Pesca, rushed out to greet me.

Pesca was a language teacher who had left Italy for political reasons and had made his home in England. He was a strange, excitable little man, who was always trying to be more English than the English. I had met him from time to time when he was teaching in the same houses as I was, and then one day I met him by chance in Brighton. We agreed to go for a swim together in the sea. He was very enthusiastic and it never for a moment occurred to me that he did not know how to swim! Fortunately, when he suddenly sank to the bottom, I was able to dive down and save him. From that day on he was my grateful friend, and that evening he showed his gratitude to me in a way that changed my whole life.

'Now, my good friends,' he said, when we were all in my mother's sitting-room. 'I have some wonderful news for you. I have been asked by my employer to recommend a drawing teacher for a post with a rich family in the north of England. And who do you think I have recommended? The best drawing teacher in the world — Mr Walter Hartright!'

'My dear Pesca! How good you are to Walter!' exclaimed my mother. 'How kind, how generous you are!'

As for myself, although I was certainly grateful for his kindness, I still felt strangely depressed. I thanked him warmly, however, and asked to see the conditions. The note he gave me said that a qualified drawing teacher was wanted by Mr Frederick Fairlie of Limmeridge House, Cumberland, to teach his two young nieces for a period of at least four months. The teacher was to live at Limmeridge House as a gentleman and receive four pounds a week. Letters to show he was of good character would be required.

The position was certainly an attractive one, and I could not understand why I felt so little enthusiasm for it. However, since my mother and sister thought it was a great opportunity, and I had no wish to hurt Pesca's feelings, I agreed to apply for the job.

The next morning I sent my letters of recommendation to the Professor's employer, and four days later I heard that Mr Fairlie accepted my services and requested me to start for Cumberland immediately. I arranged to leave the next day, and in the evening I walked to Hampstead to say goodbye to my mother and Sarah.

When I left them at midnight, a full moon was shining in a dark blue, starless sky, and the air was soft and warm. I decided to take the long route home, and walk across Hampstead Heath before joining the road into the centre of the city. After a while I came to a crossroads and turned onto the London road. I was lost in my own thoughts, wondering about the two young ladies in Cumberland, when suddenly, my heart seemed to stop beating. A hand had touched my shoulder from behind.

I turned at once, my hand tightening on my walking stick.

There, as if it had dropped from the sky, stood the figure of a woman, dressed from head to foot in white clothes. I was too surprised to speak.

'Is that the road into London?' she said.

I looked at her carefully. It was then nearly one o'clock. All I could see in the moonlight was a young colourless face, large sad eyes, and light brown hair. Her manner was quiet and self-controlled. What sort of woman she was, and why she was out so late alone, I could not guess. But there was nothing evil about her — indeed, a kind of sad innocence seemed to come from her.

'Did you hear me?' she said, quietly and rapidly.

'Yes,' I replied, 'that's the road. Please excuse me — I was rather surprised by your sudden appearance.'

'You don't suspect me of doing anything wrong, do you?'

'No, no, seeing you so suddenly gave me a shock, that's all.'

'I heard you coming,' she said, 'and hid behind those trees to see what sort of man you were, before I risked speaking. May I trust you?' Her eyes searched my face, anxiously.

Her loneliness and helplessness were so obvious that I felt great sympathy for her. 'Tell me how I can help you,' I said, 'and if I can, I will.'

'Oh, thank you, thank you. You are very kind.' Her voice trembled a little as she spoke. 'I don't know London at all. Can I get a cab or a carriage at this time of night? Could you show me where to get one, and will you promise not to interfere with me? I have a friend in London who will be glad to receive me. I want nothing else — will you promise?'

She looked nervously up and down the road, then back at me.

How could I refuse? Her fear and confusion were painful to see.

'Will you promise?' she repeated.

'Yes.'

We set off together towards the centre of London. It was like a dream — walking along that familiar road, with so strange and so mysterious a companion at my side.

'Do you know any men of the rank of Baronet in London?' she asked suddenly.

There was a note of suspicion in the strange question, and when I said I knew no Baronets, she seemed relieved. I questioned her further, and she murmured that she had been cruelly used by a Baronet she would not name. She told me she came from Hampshire and asked if I lived in London. I explained that I did, but that I was leaving for Cumberland the next day.

'Cumberland!' she repeated softly. 'Ah! I wish I was going there too. I was once happy in Cumberland, in Limmeridge village. I'd like to see Limmeridge House again.'

Limmeridge House! I stopped, amazed.

'What's wrong?' she asked anxiously. 'Did you hear anybody calling after us?'

'No, no. It's just that I heard the name of Limmeridge House very recently. Do you know somebody there?'

'I did once,' she said. 'But Mrs Fairlie is dead; and her husband is dead; and their little girl may be married and gone away...'

Perhaps she would have told me more, but just at that moment we saw a cab. I stopped it, and she quickly got in.

'Please,' I said, 'let me see you safely to your friend's house.'

'No, no,' she cried. 'I'm quite safe, and you must let me go. Remember your promise! But thank you — oh! thank you.'

She caught my hand in hers, kissed it, and pushed it away. The cab disappeared into the black shadows on the road — and the woman in white had gone.

Ten minutes later I was still on the same road, thinking uneasily about the whole adventure, when I heard wheels behind me. An open carriage with two men in it passed me, then stopped when they saw a policeman walking further down the street.

'Officer!' cried one of the men. 'Have you seen a woman pass this way? A woman in white clothes?'

'No, sir. Why? What has she done?'

'Done! She has escaped from my asylum.'

An asylum! But the woman had not seemed mad to me. Nervous, and a little strange, perhaps, but not mad. What had I done? Had I helped a woman wrongly imprisoned to escape? Or had I failed to protect a sick person who might come to harm? These disturbing thoughts kept me awake all night after I had got back to my rooms, until at last it was time to leave London and set out for Cumberland.

*  *  *

My travelling instructions directed me to Carlisle and then to change trains for Limmeridge. However, because of a long delay I missed my connection and did not get to Limmeridge till past ten. A servant in rather a bad temper was waiting for me at the station with a carriage and when I arrived at Limmeridge House everyone had gone to bed. I was shown to my room and when I at last put out the candle, I thought to myself, 'What shall I see in my dreams tonight? The woman in white? Or the unknown inhabitants of this Cumberland house?'


depressed adj. dispirited or miserable 无精打采的

economically adv. sparing in the use of resources 节俭地

violently adv. using aggressive physical force 用力地

gratitude n. a feeling of being grateful to someone because they have given you something or done something for you 感激之情;知恩图报之心

recommend v. suggest as fit for some purpose or use 推荐

exclaim v. cry out suddenly esp. in anger, surprise, pain etc. (出于气愤、惊讶、痛苦等)大喊;惊叫

character n. the collective qualities that distinguish a person or thing 特点;品行

apply for make a formal request for something to be done, given etc. 申请

be lost in be engrossed in 全神贯注于……

tighten v. make or become tight or tighter 握紧;攥紧

colourless adj. without colour 没有颜色的

suspect v. be inclined to accuse mentally 怀疑

shock n. a sudden disturbing effect 震惊;吃惊

companion n. a person who accompanies another 伙伴

baronet n. member of lowest British hereditary titled order 准男爵

relieved adj. freed from anxiety or distress 松了一口气

murmur v. utter in a low voice 低声说

adventure n. an unusual and exciting experience 不同寻常又令人兴奋的经历

asylum n. institution offering shelter and support to the mentally ill 精神病院

imprison v. put into prison 囚禁

inhabitant n. one who lives in a place 居住者

1.月下邂逅

那是7月的最后一天。漫长、炎热的夏季已经接近尾声,但我觉得身体不太舒服,心情也有些压抑。我没什么钱,不大可能离开尘土飞扬的伦敦,只得在伦敦的住处和母亲的家中将就这个秋天了。

母亲和妹妹萨拉住在伦敦北郊汉普斯特德的一所小房子里,我每星期会去看她们两次。今天我到那里的时候,天已经快黑了。刚一按门铃,我的意大利朋友,佩斯卡教授就用力打开了门,箭步冲出来迎接我。

佩斯卡由于政治原因从意大利来到英国,在这里做语言教师,安顿了下来。他个头不高,性格古怪而天真,极力表现出比英国人还地道的英国做派。我曾经和他在几个家庭里同为家庭教师,所以经常见面。有一天,我在布赖顿碰到他,两人说好一同到海滨游泳。他当时非常兴奋,我根本没想到他竟然不会游泳!幸好他突然沉下去的时候,我潜进水里把他救了上来。从那以后,他对我感激不尽,我们成了朋友,而这天晚上他的感恩之举改变了我的一生。

大家齐聚客厅时,他说:“嘿,朋友们,我有一个好消息要告诉你们。我的东家让我为英格兰北部一个富有的人家推荐一名绘画教师。你们猜我推荐了谁?我推荐的是世界上最好的绘画教师——沃尔特·哈特里特先生!”

“亲爱的佩斯卡,你对沃尔特真是太好了!”母亲说道。“你真是好心又慷慨!”

我本人也很感激他的好意,但是总觉得有一种莫名的不安。不过我还是热情地跟他道谢,向他打听一些具体情况。他给我的条子上说坎伯兰郡利默里奇庄园的弗雷德里克·费尔利先生要聘请一位优秀的绘画教师,教他的两个侄女画画,聘期至少四个月。受聘教师将住在利默里奇庄园,薪水是一星期4英镑。应聘教师必须出具品行良好的证明信。

这的确是一份令人心动的工作,但不知为什么我就是兴奋不起来。不管怎样,既然母亲和妹妹都认为这是个好机会,我也不愿伤害佩斯卡的感情,于是我答应应聘。

转天早晨,我把推荐信寄给佩斯卡的雇主,四天之后传来消息说,费尔利先生接受了我的应聘,要我立即动身前往坎伯兰郡。我做好了第二天动身的准备,晚上步行到汉普斯特德向母亲和妹妹道别。

离开她们已是子夜时分,深蓝的天空满月高悬,看不见一颗星星,空气温暖宜人。我决定走那条稍远一点儿的路回家,先穿过汉普斯特德荒地,再走通往市中心的那条路。不一会儿,我来到十字路口,踏上了通向伦敦的大路。我满脑子在想着坎伯兰郡两位小姐的事,突然一只手从后面拍了拍我的肩膀,吓得我心跳都快停止了。

我猛地转过身,攥紧了手杖。

我眼前站着一个白衣女人,仿佛从天而降。我惊得一句话也说不出来。

“那条路是去伦敦的吗?”那女人开口问道。

我仔细打量着她。这时已将近凌晨1点了。借着月光我只能看出一张年轻却没有血色的脸,一对哀伤的大眼睛和淡棕色的头发。她看上去镇定自若。我猜不出她是个什么样的女人,这么晚了为什么孤身一人在外面。可是她看上去没有恶意,实际上还流露出一丝哀伤和纯真。

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“你听见我说话了吗?”她很快地轻声说。

“是的,”我赶忙回答,“是那条路。请原谅,你出现得太突然,吓了我一跳。”

“你不会怀疑我在做什么坏事吧?”

“不,不是。只不过突然看到你,吓了一跳。”

“我听到你走过来,”她说,“就先躲在树后看你是什么样的人,然后才敢同你说话的。我能信赖你吗?”她不安地看着我的脸。

她看起来实在是非常孤独和无助,这大大地激起了我的同情。“说吧,我能为你做什么,”我说,“只要我能做的,一定帮忙。”

“哦,谢谢,谢谢。你真是个好人。”她的声音有些颤抖,“我对伦敦一无所知,这时候还有出租马车吗?你能告诉我哪里能找辆车吗?你能保证不要多问吗?我在伦敦有朋友,她会帮我的,就是这样——你能保证吗?”

她神色紧张地朝大路张望,然后又回头看我。

我怎么能够拒绝呢?她紧张而慌乱的样子令人不安。

“你能保证吗?”她再一次问。

“我保证。”

我们一起朝伦敦市中心走去。这真像是一场梦——走在熟悉的路上,身旁多了一位陌生、神秘的同路人。

“你认识伦敦有准男爵爵位的人吗?”她突然问我。

从这个奇怪的问题可以看出她对我还是有所怀疑,当我告诉她我一个准男爵也不认识时,她似乎才松了一口气。我进一步追问,她低声告诉我一个准男爵害过她,她不愿说出他的名字。她说她从汉普郡来,问我是否住在伦敦。我告诉她我是住在伦敦,但天一亮就要去坎伯兰郡了。

“坎伯兰郡!”她轻声重复着,“啊,我要是也能去那儿就好了。我曾在坎伯兰郡的利默里奇村度过一段快乐的时光,真想再看一看利默里奇庄园。”

利默里奇庄园!我停住脚步,感到很惊讶。

“怎么啦?”她急切地问,“你听到我们后面有人在喊吗?”

“不,不是。因为我最近听说过利默里奇庄园,你认识那里的什么人吗?”

“以前认识,”她回答,“不过费尔利夫人已经死了,她丈夫也死了,他们的小女儿可能已经结婚离开了那里。”

若不是看见一辆出租马车,她也许会告诉我更多的事情。我叫住马车,她很快上了车。

我说:“还是让我把你平平安安地送到朋友家吧。”

“不,不,”她大声说,“我现在很安全,你就让我自己走吧。你答应过我的!谢谢你,谢谢。”

她抓住我的手,吻了一下,然后推开。马车的影子消失在夜幕中的大路上——白衣女人也不见了。

十分钟后,我还走在同一条路上,回想着刚才发生的怪事,忽然身后传来车轮的声音。两个人坐着敞篷马车从我身边经过,他们看见路上有个警察在巡逻,就停下车来。

“警官!”一个人说,“你看没看见一个女人从这条路上走过,一个穿白衣服的女人?”

“没有,先生。怎么啦?她做了什么?”

“做了什么!她从精神病院跑出来了。”

精神病院!可是我不觉得那个女人是疯子。她神色紧张,有点儿怪,但并不疯。我究竟做了什么?是帮助一个被无端关进精神病院的女人逃跑了?还是没有看管好一个可能伤害别人的病人?这些问题让我回到家后心神不定,难以入睡,直到该起床动身前往坎伯兰郡了,还是没有睡着。

*  *  *

我的行程安排是先到卡莱尔,然后换乘开往利默里奇的火车,可是由于去卡莱尔的车晚点了许多,我没有赶上转乘的车,直到10点多才到利默里奇。一个脾气很差的仆人赶了一辆马车在车站等我,到利默里奇庄园的时候,那儿的人都已经睡了。我被带到了房间,最后吹熄蜡烛睡觉的时候,我想:“今晚我会梦见谁呢?那个白衣女人?还是坎伯兰郡这个庄园里的陌生人?”

2
Life at Limmeridge House

When I got up the next morning, I was greeted by bright sunlight and a view of blue sea through the window. The future suddenly seemed full of promise. I found my way down to the breakfast-room and there, looking out of a window with her back turned to me, was a young woman with a perfect figure. But when she turned and walked towards me, I saw to my surprise that her face was ugly. Hair grew on her upper lip, and her mouth was large and firm. It was almost a man's face, but the friendly smile she gave me softened it and made her look more womanly. She welcomed me in a pleasant, educated voice and introduced herself as Marian Halcombe, Miss Fairlie's half-sister.

'My mother was twice married,' she explained, in her easy, friendly manner. 'The first time to Mr Halcombe, my father, and the second time to Mr Fairlie, my half-sister's father. My father was a poor man, and Miss Fairlie's father was a rich man. I've got nothing, and she has a fortune. I'm dark and ugly, and she's fair and pretty.' She said all this quite happily. 'My sister and I are very fond of each other, so you must please both of us, Mr Hartright, or please neither of us.'

She then told me that Miss Fairlie had a headache that morning and was being looked after by Mrs Vesey, an elderly lady who had once been Miss Fairlie's governess.

'So we shall be alone at breakfast, Mr Hartright,' she said. 'As for Mr Fairlie, your employer, you will doubtless meet him later. He is Miss Fairlie's uncle, a single man, who became Miss Fairlie's guardian when her parents died. He suffers from some mysterious illness of the nerves, and never leaves his rooms.'

While we ate breakfast, she described the quiet, regular life that she and her sister led. 'Do you think you will get used to it?' she said. 'Or will you be restless, and wish for some adventure?'

Hearing the word 'adventure' reminded me of my meeting with the woman in white, and her reference to Mrs Fairlie. I told Miss Halcombe all about my adventure, and she showed an eager interest, especially in the mention of her mother.

'But you didn't find out the woman's name?' she said.

'I'm afraid not. Only that she came from Hampshire.'

'Well, I shall spend the morning,' said Miss Halcombe, 'looking through my mother's letters. I'm sure I will find some clues there to explain this mystery. Lunch is at two o'clock, Mr Hartright, and I shall introduce you to my sister then.'

After breakfast Mr Fairlie's personal servant, Louis, came to tell me that Mr Fairlie would like to see me. I followed the servant upstairs and was shown into a large room full of art treasures. There, in an armchair, sat a small, pale, delicate-looking man of about fifty. Despite his fine clothes and the valuable rings on his soft white fingers, there was something very unattractive about him.

'So glad to have you here, Mr Hartright,' he said in a high, complaining voice. 'Please sit down, but don't move the chair. In my state of nerves any movement is painful to me. May I ask if you have found everything satisfactory here at Limmeridge?'

When I began to reply, he at once raised his hand to stop me.

'Please excuse me. But could you speak more softly? I simply cannot bear loud voices, or indeed, any kind of loud sound.'

The interview did not last long as Mr Fairlie quickly lost interest in it. He informed me that the ladies would make all the arrangements for their drawing lessons.

'I suffer so much from my nerves, Mr Hartright,' he said. 'Do you mind ringing the bell for Louis? Thank you. Good morning!'

With great relief I left the room, and spent the rest of the morning looking forward to lunchtime, when I would be introduced to Miss Fairlie.

*  *  *

At two o'clock I entered the dining room and found Miss Halcombe seated at the table with a rather fat lady who smiled all the time. This, I discovered, was Mrs Vesey. We started eating and before long we had finished lunch, with still no sign of Miss Fairlie. Miss Halcombe noticed my frequent glances at the door.

'I understand you, Mr Hartright,' she said. 'You are wondering about your other student. Well, she has got over her headache, but did not want any lunch. If you will follow me, I think I can find her somewhere in the garden.'

We walked out together along a path through the garden, until we came to a pretty summer-house. Inside I could see a young lady standing near a table, looking out at the view and turning the pages of a little drawing book. This was Miss Laura Fairlie.

How can I describe her? How can I separate this moment from all that has happened since then? In a drawing I later made of her she appears as a light, youthful figure wearing a simple white and blue striped dress and a summer hat. Her hair is light brown, almost gold, and she has eyes that are clear and blue, with a look of truth in them. They give her whole face such a charm that it is difficult to notice each individual feature: the delicate, though not perfectly straight, nose; the sweet, sensitive mouth. The life and beauty of her face lies in her eyes.

Such was my impression, but at the same time I felt there was something about her that I could not explain — something that I ought to remember, but could not. In fact, I was thinking about this so much that I could hardly answer when she greeted me.

Miss Halcombe, believing I was shy, quickly said, 'Look at your perfect student,' and she pointed at the sketches. 'She has already started work before your lessons have begun. You must show them to Mr Hartright, Laura, when we go for a drive.'

Miss Fairlie laughed with bright good humour.

'I hope he will give his true opinion of them and not just say something to please me,' she said.

'May I enquire why you say that?' I asked.

'Because I shall believe all that you tell me,' she answered simply.

In those few words she gave me the key to her own trusting, truthful character.

Later we went for our promised drive, but I must confess that I was far more interested in Miss Fairlie's conversation than her sketches. I soon realized I was behaving more like a guest than a drawing teacher and when I was on my own again I felt uneasy and dissatisfied with myself.

At dinner that evening these feelings soon disappeared, and when the meal was over, we went into a large sitting room with glass doors leading into the garden. Mrs Vesey fell asleep in an armchair and Miss Halcombe sat near a window to look through her mother's letters. At my request Miss Fairlie played the piano.

How will I ever forget that peaceful picture? The flowers outside, the music of Mozart, Miss Halcombe reading the letters in the half-light, the delicate outline of Miss Fairlie's face against the dark wall. It was an evening of sights and sounds to remember for ever.

Later, when Miss Fairlie had finished playing and had wandered out into the moonlit garden, Miss Halcombe called me.

'Mr Hartright, will you come here for a minute?'

I went over and she showed me a letter.

'It's from my mother to her second husband twelve years ago. She mentions a lady from Hampshire called Mrs Catherick, who had come to look after her sick sister living in the village. It seems she brought her only child with her, a little girl called Anne, who was about a year older than Laura. I was at a school in Paris at the time. My mother, who took a great interest in the village school, says the little girl was slow in learning so she gave her lessons here at the house. She also gave her some of Laura's white dresses and white hats, saying she looked better in white than any other colour. She says that little Anne Catherick was so grateful, and loved her so much, that one day she kissed her hand and said, "I'll always wear white as long as I live. It will help me to remember you."'

Miss Halcombe stopped and looked at me.

'Did the woman you met that night seem young enough to be twenty-two or twenty-three?'

'Yes, Miss Halcombe, as young as that.'

'And was she dressed from head to foot, all in white?'

'All in white.'

From where I sat, I could see Miss Fairlie walking in the garden, and the whiteness of her dress in the moonlight suddenly made my heart beat faster.

'Now listen to what my mother says at the end of the letter,' Miss Halcombe continued. 'It will surprise you. She says that perhaps the real reason for her liking little Anne Catherick so much was that she looked exactly like —'

Before she could finish, I jumped up. Outside stood Miss Fairlie, a white figure alone in the moonlight. And suddenly I realized what it was that I had been unable to remember — it was the extraordinary likeness between Miss Laura Fairlie and the runaway from the asylum, the woman in white.

'You see it!' said Miss Halcombe. 'Just as my mother saw the likeness between them years ago.'

'Yes,' I replied. 'But very unwillingly. To connect that lonely, friendless woman, even by an accidental likeness, to Miss Fairlie disturbs me very much. I don't like to think of it. Please call her in from that horrible moonlight!'

'We won't say anything about this likeness to Laura,' she said. 'It will be a secret between you and me.' Then she called Miss Fairlie in, asking her to play the piano again; and so my first, eventful day at Limmeridge House came to an end.

*  *  *

The days passed, the weeks passed, and summer changed into a golden autumn. A peaceful, happy time, but at last, I had to confess to myself my real feelings for Miss Fairlie.

I loved her.

Every day I was near her in that dangerous closeness which exists between teacher and student. Often, as we bent over her sketch-book, our hands and faces almost touched. I breathed the perfume of her hair. I should have put a professional distance between myself and her, as I had always done with my students in the past. But I did not, and it was soon too late.

By the third month of my stay in Cumberland, I was lost in dreams of love and blind to the dangers ahead of me. Then the first warning finally came — from her. In the space of one night, she changed towards me. There was a sudden nervous distance, and a kind of sadness, in her attitude. The pain I felt at that moment is beyond description. But I knew then that she had changed because she had suddenly discovered not only my feelings, but her own as well. This change was also reflected in Miss Halcombe, who said nothing unusual to me, but who had developed a new habit of always watching me. This new and awful situation continued for some time until, on a Thursday, near the end of the third month, I was at last rescued by the sensible and courageous Miss Halcombe.

'Have you got a moment for me?' she asked after breakfast. 'Shall we go into the garden?'

We walked to the summer-house and went inside. Miss Halcombe turned to me. 'Mr Hartright, what I have to say to you I can say here. Now, I know that you are a good man who always acts correctly. Your story about that unhappy woman in London proves that. As your friend, I must tell you that I have discovered your feelings for my sister, Laura. Although you have done nothing wrong, except show weakness, I must tell you to leave Limmeridge House before any harm is done. And there is something else I must tell you, which will also give you pain. Will you shake hands with your friend, Marian Halcombe, first?'

She spoke with such kindness that I shook her hand.

'You must leave because Laura Fairlie is to be married.'

The last word went like a bullet to my heart. I turned white, I felt cold. With one word all my hopes disappeared.

'You must put an end to your feelings, here, where you first met her. I will hide nothing from you. She is not marrying for love, but because of a promise she made to her father just before he died. The man she is to marry arrives here next Monday.'

'Let me go today,' I said bitterly. 'The sooner the better.'

'No, not today. That would look strange. Wait till tomorrow, after the post has arrived. Say to Mr Fairlie that you have received bad news and must return to London.'

'I will follow your advice, Miss Halcombe,' I said sadly. 'But may I ask who the gentleman engaged to Miss Fairlie is?'

'A rich man from Hampshire.'

Hampshire! Again a connection with Anne Catherick!

'And his name?' I asked, as calmly as I could.

'Sir Percival Glyde.'

Sir! I remembered Anne Catherick's suspicious question about Baronets, and my voice shook a little as I asked, 'Is he a Baronet?'

She paused for a moment, then answered, 'Yes, a Baronet.'


figure n. bodily shape 身材

womanly adj. having or showing qualities associated with women 具有或表现出女子气质的

fortune n. great wealth; a large sum of money 大笔财富

guardian n. a person having legal custody of another person when that person is incapable of managing his or her own affairs 监护人

reference n. the act of referring to a person etc. for information 提及;提到

delicate adj. easily made ill 娇弱的

bear v. tolerate; put up with 忍受

good morning courteous farewell 早上(上午)礼貌的告别方式

get over recover from an illness 恢复;痊愈

youthful adj. having freshness or vigour of youth 年轻的

enquire v. ask a question

confess v. admit 承认

uneasy adj. disturbed or uncomfortable in mind or body 不自在的;不舒服的

peaceful adj. characterized by peace, tranquil 平静的

extraordinary adj. unusual or remarkable 不同寻常的

runaway n. a person who flees from enemy, danger or a master 逃跑者

eventful adj. marked by noteworthy events 发生事情比较多的

professional adj. connected with a profession 职业的

blind adj. without foresight, intellectual perception or adequate information 不知道的;不了解的

sensible adj. reasonable, judicious 明智的;理智的

engaged adj. under a promise to marry 订婚

pause v. to cease or suspend an action temporarily 停顿

2.在利默里奇庄园的日子

第二天起床,迎接我的是灿烂的阳光和窗外湛蓝的大海。未来突然好像一片光明。我下楼来到早餐室,一位身材优美的年轻女士正背对我望着窗外。当她转身向我走来时,我吃惊地发现她长得很丑。她的上唇上长着胡须,嘴唇又大又厚。尽管脸长得像个男人,但是友好的微笑使她看上去有了一些女人味儿。她同我打招呼,声音悦耳,听起来很有教养。她告诉我她叫玛丽安·哈尔库姆,费尔利小姐同母异父的姐姐。

“我母亲结过两次婚,”她以一种平和友善的语调对我说,“第一次嫁给哈尔库姆先生,我父亲,第二次嫁给费尔利先生,费尔利小姐的父亲。我父亲一贫如洗,费尔利小姐的父亲却是个有钱人。我本人一无所有,但她很富有。我长得又黑又丑,她又白又漂亮。”她兴致勃勃地说着这一切,“我们姐妹俩非常要好,先生,所以你必须要讨好我们俩,要不就谁也别讨好。”

她又告诉我费尔利小姐早上头疼,维西夫人正在照顾她,维西夫人原来是费尔利小姐的家庭教师。

“今天早饭就我们两个了,哈特里特先生,”她说,“至于费尔利先生,你的雇主,你肯定得过些时候才能见到他了,他是费尔利小姐的叔叔,单身一人,费尔利小姐父母死后,他就成了她的监护人。他患有一种古怪的神经疾病,从不离开他的房间半步。”

吃早饭的时候,她对我讲了她们姐妹俩平静而规律的生活。“你觉得你能适应这样的生活吗?”她问,“你是否会烦躁不安,希望有些新奇的事情发生?”

“新奇”这个词让我想起遇到白衣女人的事,她曾经提到过费尔利夫人。当我把我的奇异经历告诉哈尔库姆小姐时,她对这件事表现出浓厚的兴趣,特别对提到她的母亲这个细节。

“你不知道那女人叫什么名字吗?”

“不知道。只知道她从汉普郡来。”

“那好吧,我今天早上,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“就翻一翻母亲的信件。我想一定会从中找出点线索解开这个谜。午饭时间是两点,哈特里特先生,到时我会把你介绍给我妹妹。”

早饭后,费尔利先生的贴身仆人路易斯过来告诉我费尔利先生要见我。我跟他上了楼,被带到一个很大的房间,里面有许多艺术珍品。扶手椅上坐着一个苍白羸弱的小个子男人,大概五十岁上下。尽管他穿着考究,白皙柔软的手指上带着贵重的戒指,但是他身上有一种让人非常不喜欢的东西。

“非常高兴你能来这里工作,哈特里特先生,”他的声音尖锐刺耳,还带着一丝怨气,“请坐,但请不要动椅子。任何动静都会刺激我的神经,让我难受。你在利默里奇感到还满意吗?”

我刚要说话,他又马上举手示意我先别说。

“请原谅,你说话声音轻点吗?我受不了大声说话,任何太响的声音我都受不了。”

我们的面谈没有持续很长时间,因为费尔利先生很快就没了兴趣。他告诉我小姐们会安排所有关于绘画课的事宜。

“我的神经很差,哈特里特先生,你能帮我摇铃叫一下路易斯吗?谢谢。再见。”

离开他的房间,我长出了一口气。上午剩下的时间我一直在等着吃午饭,到时就可以见到费尔利小姐了。

*  *  *

两点钟,我来到餐厅,看到哈尔库姆小姐同一位体态丰满的女士坐在桌旁,那位女士一直面带微笑。她就是维西夫人。我们开始一起吃饭,不一会儿就吃完了,但一直没见到费尔利小姐的影子。哈尔库姆小姐注意到我不断地朝门口张望。

“我知道你在想什么,哈特里特先生,”她说,“你一定在想你的另一个学生。她头痛已经好了,但不想吃东西。如果你跟我来,我可以在花园里找到她。”

我们一起沿着花园的小路来到一个漂亮的凉亭前。我看到里面有一位小姐站在一张桌子旁,望着外面的风景,手中翻动着一本小画册。这就是劳拉·费尔利小姐。

我该怎样描述她呢?我怎样才能把此时此刻同后来发生的一切分开呢?在我后来画的一张她的肖像里,她年轻活泼,身穿式样简单的蓝白条纹连衣裙,头戴遮阳帽。她的头发是淡棕色,接近金色。她有一双清澈诚实的蓝眼睛,使她魅力四射,让你不再注意她脸上的其他细节:小巧但不很直的鼻子,还有甜美动人的双唇。她脸部的活力和美丽都源自那双眼睛。

这就是她给我的印象,但同时她身上有一些我无法解释的东西——一些我应该记得,却想不起来的东西。我完全沉浸在自己的思绪里,甚至她向我打招呼时,我几乎都说不出话来。

哈尔库姆小姐可能觉得我是个腼腆的人,马上说:“看看你的学生多好,”然后又指了指那些画,“你的课还没开始,她已经开始自己画了。劳拉,我们一会儿坐马车出去的时候,把你的画给哈特里特先生看看。”

费尔利小姐开心地笑起来。

“我希望先生把真实的评价告诉我,不要光说好话哄我。”她说。

“请问你为什么这么说呢?”我问她。

“因为你的任何评价我都会相信。”她回答得很爽快。

从这些话里我看出她天性真诚,会毫无保留地相信他人。

过了一会儿,我们按计划坐马车出去,然而我必须承认比起费尔利小姐的画,我对她的言谈更感兴趣。我很快意识到自己的表现与其说像绘画教师不如说更像客人。自己一个人的时候,我感到有些不自在,对自己不满意。

晚饭的时候,这些感觉很快消失了。吃罢晚饭,我们来到一间大客厅,这里装有通往花园的玻璃门。维西夫人在扶手椅上睡着了,哈尔库姆小姐在翻阅她母亲的信件。在我的请求下,费尔利小姐弹起了钢琴。

这样安逸的情景我怎能忘记呢?屋外的鲜花,莫扎特的音乐,哈尔库姆小姐在微暗的光线下读信的样子,费尔利小姐映在昏暗的墙壁上的美丽侧脸,今晚这一切声音和情景都令人难以忘怀。

过了一会儿,费尔利小姐弹完了琴,走进月光下的花园。哈尔库姆小姐叫我。

“哈特里特先生,你能过来一下吗?”

我走过去,她递给我一封信。

“这是妈妈12年前写给她第二个丈夫的信。信中提到从汉普郡来的凯瑟里克太太,她是来照料住在村子里生病的妹妹的。她好像把她的独生女儿小安妮带来了,安妮比劳拉大1岁左右。当时我在巴黎读书,妈妈那时对村子里的学校非常感兴趣,她觉得小安妮学习比较吃力,就在家里辅导她。妈妈还把劳拉的一些白连衣裙和帽子送给她,说安妮穿白色衣服最好看。她说安妮·凯瑟里克很感激,也很喜欢她。一天,她吻过妈妈的手,说:‘我一辈子都会穿白色衣服,因为白色让我永远记着你。’”

哈尔库姆小姐停下来看着我,问道:

“你那天晚上碰到的那个女人,是不是只有二十二三岁的样子?”

“没错,哈尔库姆小姐,差不多那么大。”

“她是不是从头到脚都穿白色?”

“的确都是白色的。”

从我坐的地方可以看到费尔利小姐在花园中散步,月光下她的白色连衣裙突然间使我的心跳加快了。

“听听妈妈在信的末尾是怎么说的,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“你一定会感到吃惊的。她说她之所以那么喜欢小安妮·凯瑟里克,可能是因为她长得特别像——”

没等她说完,我一下子跳了起来。外面站着费尔利小姐,月光下一个孤零零的白色身影,猛然间我明白了我没有想起来的是什么了——就是劳拉·费尔利小姐同从精神病院跑出来的白衣女人惊人地相似。

“你看出来了!”哈尔库姆小姐说,“和妈妈一样,她多年前也看出了她们之间惊人的相似。”

“是的,”我说,“但是我非常不愿意把那个孤独无依的女人同费尔利小姐联系起来,即使这全是出于偶然,也让我内心不安。我不想再想这件事。还是叫她进来吧,那月光太可怕了!”

“我们不要对劳拉讲任何有关相貌相似的事,”她说,“这是我们之间的秘密。”说完,她招呼费尔利小姐进屋来,让她再弹一首曲子。就这样,我在利默里奇不平凡的第一天结束了。

*  *  *

日子一天天、一个星期又一个星期地过去了,夏季已被金秋取代。这是宁静而快乐的季节,然而,我最终还是必须向自己承认对费尔利小姐的感觉。

我爱上了她。

作为师生,每天我都和她那么接近,这很危险。很多次,在低头翻看写生簿的时候,我们的手和脸几乎要碰到,我可以闻到她头发的香味。我本应与她保持教师与学生应有的距离,我和过去教过的学生都是这样。但是我现在没有,而且已经来不及了。

来坎伯兰郡的第三个月,我已经完全沉浸在爱的幻想中,对将要到来的危险一无所知。第一个危险的信号终于来了——而且就来自于。一夜之间,她对我的态度发生了变化,她对我有一种拘束的疏离感,还有一种莫名的哀伤。我当时的痛苦无法言表。不过后来我才知道她是因为发现了我的感受,也发现了她自己的感受才有这样的变化。这种变化还反映在哈尔库姆小姐身上,她虽然没跟我说什么,但是开始经常注视着我。这种可怕的新状况一直持续到将近第三个月末的一个星期四。最后,理智、勇敢的哈尔库姆小姐帮我得到了解脱。

“能占用你一点儿时间吗?”早饭后她这样问我,“我们去花园走走好吗?”

我们来到凉亭,走了进去。哈尔库姆小姐转向我;“哈特里特先生,我要向你说的话在这儿可以说了。我知道你是一位举止得体的好人,你跟我讲的关于伦敦那个不幸女人的事证明了这一点。但是,作为你的朋友,我必须告诉你,我发现了你对我妹妹劳拉的感情。除了表现得有些软弱,你没做错什么,不过我还是必须劝你在造成伤害之前离开利默里奇庄园。我还有些事要告诉你,可能会让你痛苦。你能不能先和你的朋友玛丽安·哈尔库姆握握手?”

她说得非常诚恳,我握了握她的手。

“你必须离开这里,因为劳拉·费尔利就要结婚了。”

最后那个词就像一颗子弹一样穿过我的胸膛。我的脸色苍白,全身冰冷。就因为这一个词,我所有的希望都消失了。

“你必须在这里结束这段感情,就在你们初次相识的地方。我不会对你有任何隐瞒,她不是为了爱才结婚,而是因为她在她父亲临终时做的承诺。她要嫁的人下星期一到这里。”

“我今天就走,”我难过地说,“越快越好。”

“不,不要今天走。那样会让别人觉得奇怪。等到明天邮差来了再走。你就跟费尔利先生说收到了坏消息,必须马上回伦敦去。”

“我按你说的做,哈尔库姆小姐,”我伤心地说,“不过,你能告诉我同费尔利小姐订婚的先生是谁吗?”

“是汉普郡的一个有钱人。”

汉普郡!又一个和安妮·凯瑟里克有关的线索!

“他叫什么?”我尽量平静地问。

“珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士。”

爵士!我想起安妮·凯瑟里克问过的有关准男爵的问题。“他是准男爵吗?”我的声音有些颤抖。

她停了一停,说道:“对,他是准男爵。”

3
The unsigned letter

As I sat alone in my room later that morning, my thoughts crowded in on me. There was no reason at all for me to connect Sir Percival Glyde with the man who had made Anne Catherick so afraid — but I did. My suffering was great, but even greater was my feeling that some terrible, invisible danger lay ahead of us. Then I heard a knock at my door. It was Miss Halcombe.

'Mr Hartright, I am sorry to disturb you, but you are the only person who can advise me. A letter has just arrived for Miss Fairlie — a horrible, unsigned letter, warning her not to marry Sir Percival Glyde. It has upset my sister very much. Should I try to find out who wrote it or wait to speak to Mr Gilmore, Mr Fairlie's legal adviser, who arrives tomorrow?'

She gave me the letter. There was no greeting, no signature.

Do you believe in dreams, Miss Fairlie? Last night I dreamt I saw you in your white wedding dress in a church, so pretty, so innocent. By your side stood a man with the scar of an old wound on his right hand — a handsome man, but with a black, evil heart; a man who has brought misery to many, and who will bring misery to you. And in my dream I cried for you. Find out the past life of this man, Miss Fairlie, before you marry him. I send you this warning, because your mother was my first, my best, my only friend.

These last words suggested an idea to me, which I was afraid to mention. Was I in danger of losing my balance of mind? Why should everything lead back to the woman in white?

'I think a woman wrote this letter,' said Miss Halcombe. 'It certainly refers to Sir Percival — I remember that scar. What should I do, Mr Hartright? This mystery must be solved. Mr Gilmore is coming to discuss the financial details of Miss Fairlie's marriage, and Sir Percival arrives on Monday to fix the date of the marriage — though Miss Fairlie does not know this yet.'

The date of the marriage! Those words filled me with jealous despair. Perhaps there was some truth in this letter. If I could find the writer, perhaps I would find a way to prove that Sir Percival Glyde was not the honest man he seemed.

'I think we should begin enquiries at once,' I said. 'The longer we delay, the harder it will be to find out anything.'

We questioned the servants and learnt that the letter had been delivered by an elderly woman, who had then disappeared in the direction of the village. People in Limmeridge remembered seeing the woman, but no one could tell us who she was or where she had come from. Finally, I suggested asking the school teacher. As we approached the school door, we could hear the teacher shouting at one of the boys, saying angrily that there were no such things as ghosts. It was an awkward moment, but we went in anyway and asked our question. The teacher could tell us nothing. However, as we turned to leave, Miss Halcombe spoke to the boy standing in the corner:

'Are you the foolish boy who was talking about ghosts?'

'Yes, Miss. But I saw one! I saw it yesterday, in the churchyard. I did! It was — it was the ghost of Mrs Fairlie!'

His answer visibly shocked Miss Halcombe, and the teacher quickly stepped in to explain that the silly boy had said he had seen (or probably imagined) a woman in white standing next to Mrs Fairlie's grave as he passed the churchyard yesterday evening. There was nothing more to it than that.

'What is your opinion of this?' Miss Halcombe asked me as we went out of the school.

'The boy may have seen someone,' I said, 'but not a ghost. I think we should examine the grave. I have this suspicion, Miss Halcombe, that the writer of the letter and the imagined ghost in the churchyard might be the same person.'

She stopped, turned pale, and looked at me. 'What person?'

'Anne Catherick,' I replied. 'The woman in white.'

'I don't know why, but your suspicion frightens me,' she said slowly. 'I will show you the grave, and then I must go back to Laura. We'll meet again at the house later.'

In the churchyard I examined Mrs Fairlie's grave carefully, and noticed that the gravestone had been partly cleaned. Perhaps the person who had done the cleaning would return to finish the job. I decided to come back that evening and watch. Back at the house I explained my plan to Miss Halcombe, who seemed uneasy but made no objection. So, as the sun began to go down, I walked to the churchyard, chose my position, and waited.

After about half an hour I heard footsteps. Then two women passed in front of me and walked to the grave. One wore a long cloak with a hood over her head, hiding her face. Below the cloak a little of her dress was visible — a white dress. The other woman said something to her companion, and then walked away round the corner of the church, leaving the woman in the cloak next to the grave. After looking all around her, she took out a cloth, kissed the white cross and started to clean it.

I approached her slowly and carefully, but when she saw me, she jumped up and looked at me in terror.

There, in front of me, was the face of the woman in white.

'Don't be frightened,' I said. 'Surely you remember me?' Her eyes searched my face. 'I helped you to find the way to London,' I went on. 'Surely you have not forgotten that?'

Her face relaxed as she recognized me, and she sighed in relief. Before this, I had seen her likeness in Miss Fairlie. Now I saw Miss Fairlie's likeness in her. Except that Miss Fairlie's delicate beauty was missing from this tired face, and I could not help thinking that if ever sorrow and suffering fell on Miss Fairlie, then, and only then, they would be the living reflections of one another. It was a horrible thought.

Gently, I began to question her. I told her that I knew she had escaped from an asylum, and that I was glad I had helped her. But had she found her friend in London that night?

'Oh yes. That was Mrs Clements, who is here with me now. She was our neighbour in Hampshire, and took care of me when I was a little girl. She has always been my friend.'

'Have you no father or mother to take care of you?'

'I never saw my father — I never heard mother speak of him. And I don't get on well with her. I'd rather be with Mrs Clements, who is kind, like you.'

I learnt that she was staying with relations of Mrs Clements at a farm, three miles from the village, but there were other, harder questions I wanted to ask. Who had shut her away in an asylum? Her 'unkind' mother, perhaps? What was her motive in writing the letter to Miss Fairlie, accusing Sir Percival Glyde? Was it revenge? What wrong had Sir Percival done her?

She was easily frightened, easily confused, and could only hold one idea in her mind at a time. I tried not to alarm her. Had she ever, I asked, been wronged by a man and then abandoned? Her innocent, puzzled face told me that was not the answer.

All the time we were talking she was cleaning the gravestone with her cloth.

'Mrs Fairlie was my best friend,' she murmured. 'And her daughter...' She looked up at me, then away again, as though hiding her face in guilt. 'Is Miss Fairlie well and happy?' she whispered anxiously.

I decided to try and surprise a confession from her. 'She was not well or happy this morning, after receiving your letter. You wrote it, didn't you? It was wrong to send such a letter.'

Her face went deathly pale. Then she bent down and kissed the gravestone. 'Oh, Mrs Fairlie! Mrs Fairlie! Tell me how to save your daughter. Tell me what to do.'

'You mention no names in the letter, but Miss Fairlie knows that the person you describe is Sir Percival Glyde —'

The moment I said his name she gave such a scream of terror that my blood ran cold. Her face, now full of fear and hatred, told me everything. Without doubt the person who had shut her away in the asylum was Sir Percival Glyde.

At the sound of her scream, Mrs Clements came running and, looking angrily at me, said, 'What is it, my dear? What has this man done to you?'

'Nothing,' the poor girl said. 'He was good to me once. He helped me...' She whispered the rest in her friend's ear.

Then Mrs Clements put her arm round Anne Catherick and led her away. I watched them go, feeling great pity for that poor, pale, frightened face.

Half an hour later I was back at the house, and the story I told Miss Halcombe made her very worried.

'I am certain Sir Percival Glyde put Anne Catherick in the asylum,' I said. 'But why? What is the connection between them?'

'We must find out,' said Miss Halcombe. 'We will go to the farm tomorrow, and I will speak to Anne Catherick myself.'

*  *  *

The first thing I had to do the next morning was to ask Mr Fairlie if I could leave my job a month early. As his nerves were particularly bad, I could not speak to him directly but had to write a note, explaining that some unexpected news forced me to return to London. In reply I received a most unpleasant letter, informing me that I could go. Once, such a letter would have upset me greatly; now, I no longer cared.

Later Miss Halcombe and I walked to the farm, and Miss Halcombe went in while I waited nearby. To my surprise, she returned after only a few minutes.

'Does Anne Catherick refuse to see you?' I asked.

'Anne Catherick has gone,' replied Miss Halcombe. 'She left this morning, with Mrs Clements. The farmer's wife, Mrs Todd, has no idea why they left or where they went. She just said that Anne Catherick had been disturbed after reading something in the local newspaper a couple of days ago. I looked at the paper and saw that it mentioned Laura's future wedding. Then Mrs Todd said that Anne Catherick fainted last night, apparently in shock at something mentioned by one of the servant girls from our house, who was visiting the farm on her evening off.'

We hurried back to the house to question the servant girl. Miss Halcombe asked her if she had mentioned Sir Percival Glyde's name while at the farm. 'Oh yes,' the girl replied. 'I said he was coming on Monday.'

At that moment a cab arrived and Mr Gilmore, the family friend and legal adviser, got out. He was an elderly man, pleasant-looking and neatly dressed. Miss Halcombe introduced me, and then went away to discuss family matters with him. I wandered out into the garden. My time at Limmeridge House was nearly at an end, and I wanted to say a last goodbye to the places where I had so often walked with Miss Fairlie, in the dream-time of my happiness and my love. But the autumn day was grey and damp, and those golden memories were already fading.

As I returned to the house, I met Mr Gilmore.

'Ah, Mr Hartright,' he said. 'Miss Halcombe has told me how helpful you have been about this strange letter received by Miss Fairlie. I want you to know that the investigation is now in my safe hands. I have written to Sir Percival Glyde's lawyer in London and I'm sure we will receive a satisfactory explanation.'

'I'm afraid I am not so sure as you,' was my reply.

'Well, well,' said Mr Gilmore. 'We will wait for events.'

At dinner that evening — my last dinner at Limmeridge House — it was a hard battle to keep my self-control. I saw that it was not easy for Miss Fairlie, either. She gave me her hand as she had done in happier days, but her fingers trembled and her face was pale. Mr Gilmore kept the conversation going, and afterwards we went into the sitting room as usual. Miss Fairlie sat at the piano.

'Shall I play some of those pieces by Mozart that you like? Will you sit in your old chair near me?' she asked nervously.

'As it is my last night, I will,' I answered.

'I am very sorry you are going,' she said, almost in a whisper.

'I shall remember those kind words, Miss Fairlie, long after tomorrow has gone,' I replied.

'Don't speak about tomorrow.'

Then she played, and at last it was time to say goodnight.

The next morning I found Miss Halcombe and Miss Fairlie waiting for me downstairs. When I began to speak, Miss Fairlie turned and hurried from the room. I tried to control my voice, but could only say, 'Will you write to me, Miss Halcombe?'

She took both my hands in hers, and her face grew beautiful with the force of her generosity and pity. 'Of course I will, Walter. Goodbye — and God bless you!'

She left, and a few seconds later Miss Fairlie returned, holding something. It was her own sketch of the summer-house where we had first met. With tears in her eyes, she offered it to me,' to remind you', she whispered. My own tears fell as I kissed her hand, then I turned to go. She sank into a chair, her head dropped on her arms. At that moment I knew that Laura Fairlie loved me too. But it was over. We were separated.


crowd v. come together in a crowd 聚集;集中

invisible adj. not visible to the eye 看不见的

jealous adj. afraid, suspicious or resentful of rivalry in love or affection 嫉妒的

deliver v. distribute letters to the addressee

approach v. come near or nearer to a place 接近;靠近

examine v. look closely at 仔细地看

objection n. an expression or feeling of opposition or disapproval 反对;不同意

terror n. extreme fear 恐惧;恐怖

relax v. become less rigid or tense 放松

recognize v. identify a person an already known 认出来

relation n. a member of one's family 亲戚;亲属

motive n. factor or circumstance that induces a person to act on a particular way 动机

revenge n. retaliation for an offence or injury 复仇

abandon v. forsake or desert 抛弃

scream n. a loud high-pitched cry expressing fear, pain etc. 惊叫;尖叫

faint v. lose consciousness 失去知觉;晕倒

fade v. diminish 减退

sink v. settle down 坐下

3.匿名信件

那天上午,我一个人坐在房间里,思绪异常纷乱。我本来没有任何理由把珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士和那个让安妮·凯瑟里克害怕的人联系起来——但我的确把他们连在了一起。我很痛苦,但也强烈地感到将有看不见的可怕危险到来。这时,我听到有人敲门,来的是哈尔库姆小姐。

“哈特里特先生,很抱歉打扰你,可是只有你能给我出个主意了。刚收到一封给费尔利小姐的信——一封可怕的匿名信,警告她不要和珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士结婚。这封信让妹妹非常不安。我是应该查一下谁写的信,还是等明天费尔利先生的法律顾问吉尔摩先生来了问问他?”

她把信递给我,上面没有问候语,也没有签名。


你相信梦吗,费尔利小姐?昨天夜里我梦见你穿着白色婚纱站在教堂里,你是那么漂亮,那么纯洁。你身边站着一个右手有旧伤疤的男人,他面容英俊,但内心邪恶,他曾让许多人痛苦,也会让你痛苦。在梦里我为你哭泣。费尔利小姐,弄清这个人的过去再同他结婚。我之所以给你如此的忠告是因为你的母亲是我第一个朋友,也是最好的、唯一的朋友。


信的最后几个字让我想到了一件事,但我不敢说出来。是不是我脑子出了问题?为什么所有的事情都指向那个白衣女人?

“我认为这封信是一个女人写的,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“信里说的肯定是珀西瓦尔爵士,我记得他的那条疤。我该怎么办,哈特里特先生?这个谜一定得解开。吉尔摩先生要来谈费尔利小姐婚事的财务细节,珀西瓦尔爵士星期一来确定结婚的日期——不过费尔利小姐还不知道。”

结婚的日期!这些字眼使我又嫉妒又绝望。也许这封信里有些话是真的。如果我能找到写信人,也许会有办法证明珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士并不像他外表看起来那样正直。

“我觉得我们应该马上开始调查,”我说,“耽误的时间越长,越难找到线索。”

我们问了仆人,得知信是一个上了年纪的女人送来的,那女人朝村子的方向走去,很快就消失了。利默里奇庄园的人说记得见过那个女人,但没人知道她是谁,从哪里来。最后我建议去问一问学校的老师。快到学校门口的时候,我们听见老师正大声训斥一个学生说根本就没有什么鬼。这是个尴尬的时刻,但我们还是进去向老师提出了我们的问题。老师没能告诉我们任何信息。然而,在我们转身离开时,哈尔库姆小姐对站在角落的男孩说:

“你就是说有鬼的那个傻孩子?”

“是的,小姐。可我真的看到了!昨天在教堂的墓地里看见的。我真的看见了!那鬼是……是费尔利夫人!”

孩子的话显然令哈尔库姆小姐非常吃惊。老师马上走过来解释说这傻孩子说他昨天晚上路过教堂墓地的时候,看见(或是想象)一个穿白衣服的女人站在费尔利夫人的墓旁。我们得到的消息就是这些。

“你怎么看这件事?”走出学校,哈尔库姆小姐问我。

“那男孩可能看见了什么人,”我说,“但不是鬼。我想我们应该去看看那墓地。我怀疑,哈尔库姆小姐,写信的人和那个教堂墓地里假想出来的鬼可能是同一个人。”

她停住了脚步,脸色煞白,两只眼睛紧盯着我,“那人是谁?”

“安妮·凯瑟里克,”我回答,“那个白衣女人。”

“我不知道为什么,但是你的怀疑让我很害怕,”她缓慢地说,“我带你去墓地,然后我得回去看看劳拉。我们庄园再见。”

在教堂墓地里,我仔细察看了费尔利夫人的坟墓,发现墓碑有一部分被人擦洗过。也许那人会回来继续擦洗。我决定晚上再回来看看。回到庄园,我把想法告诉了哈尔库姆小姐,她看上去有些不安,但没有表示反对。于是,太阳刚开始落山,我就走路到了教堂墓地,找了个地方,开始等待。

大约半小时后,我听到了脚步声。接着,两个女人从我前面走过,向坟墓走去。其中一个穿着斗篷,兜帽遮住了她的脸。斗篷下面可以看到一点儿她的裙角——白色的裙子。另一个女人跟她说了些什么,然后转过墙角走了。穿斗篷的女人来到坟墓旁,向周围仔细看了看,然后掏出一块布,吻了一下白色的十字架,开始擦洗墓碑。

我小心翼翼地慢慢走近那女人,她看见我后,一下子跳起来,惊恐地望着我。

出现在我眼前的正是那白衣女人的脸。

“别害怕,”我说,“你肯定记得我吧?”她打量着我的脸。“是我指给你通往伦敦的路,你肯定没忘吧?”我接着说。

她认出我以后,长出了一口气,脸上的表情也放松了。在此之前,我曾看出她和费尔利小姐的相像之处,现在我看出费尔利小姐和她的相像之处。只不过费尔利小姐的精致美丽在这张疲惫的脸上看不出来。我不禁想到,假如不幸和痛苦降临到费尔利小姐头上,她们俩就真的一模一样了。这是个可怕的想法。

我开始和缓地向她提问。我告诉她我知道她是从精神病院逃出来的,也很高兴帮助了她。不过,那天晚上她找到伦敦的朋友了吗?

“噢,找到了。就是克莱门茨太太。她现在跟我在一起。她是我们在汉普郡的邻居,我小的时候就是她照顾我。她一直是我的朋友。”

“你没有父母照顾你吗?”

“我从没见过父亲——也从没听母亲说起过他。我同母亲关系不好。我宁愿同克莱门茨太太在一起。她心地善良,就像你一样。”

我了解到她和克莱门茨太太的亲戚住在离村子3英里远的农场里,但是我还想问一些更尖锐的问题。是谁把她关进了精神病院?是对她“不好”的母亲吗?她为什么要给费尔利小姐写信指责珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士?是复仇吗?珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士做了什么对不起她的事呢?

她特别容易受惊吓,容易思绪紊乱,只能一次考虑一个问题。我尽量不惊吓她。我问她是不是有个男人做了对不起她的事,而后抛弃了她?她单纯、疑惑的表情告诉我答案是否定的。

我们交谈的过程中,她一直在用布擦拭墓碑。

“费尔利夫人是我最好的朋友,”她小声说,“她女儿……”她抬头看看我,然后又转过头去,像是由于羞愧而不愿见人,“费尔利小姐好吗?快乐吗?”她急切地轻声问。

我决定给她一个突然袭击,看是否可以让她说出真相。“她今天早上收到你的信以后很不好,很不快乐。是你写的信,对吗?你不该写那样的信。”

她的脸变得像死人一般苍白。她低下头,吻了吻墓碑,“噢,费尔利夫人!费尔利夫人!告诉我怎么才能救你的女儿。告诉我该怎么做。”

“你在信里没有提到任何人的名字,但是费尔利小姐明白你说的那个人是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士——”

我说出这个名字的时候,她害怕得惊叫起来,那叫声让我全身发冷。她的脸上充满了恐惧和仇恨,这表情说明了一切。毫无疑问,把她关进精神病院的人就是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士。

听到惊叫声,克莱门茨太太跑过来,气愤地看了看我,说:“怎么啦,亲爱的?他对你怎么啦?”

“没事,”可怜的姑娘说,“他以前帮过我,他帮我……”下面的话她跟克莱门茨太太耳语着。

然后,克莱门茨太太挽着安妮·凯瑟里克,带她走了。我望着她们远去的背影,心中充满了对那可怜姑娘的同情,她的脸色是那样苍白,那样惊恐。

半小时后,我回到了庄园。我把事情经过告诉哈尔库姆小姐后,她显得非常担心。

“我敢肯定是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士把安妮·凯瑟里克关进精神病院的,”我说,“可是他为什么这样做呢?他们之间是什么关系呢?”

“我们必须搞清楚,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“明天我们去农场,我要亲自同安妮·凯瑟里克谈谈。”

*  *  *

第二天我要做的第一件事是请求费尔利先生允许我提前一个月结束在这里的工作。因为他的精神非常不好,我不能同他直接谈,只能写一封短信,说明我收到一些意外的消息,必须回伦敦去。很快我收到一封很不客气的回信,通知我可以离开。要是过去,这样的信会让我非常沮丧,可是现在我不在乎了。

随后,哈尔库姆小姐和我步行到农场去。她进去的时候我在附近等她。令我吃惊的是没几分钟她就出来了。

“是不是安妮·凯瑟里克拒绝见你?”我问。

“安妮·凯瑟里克已经走了,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“今天早上,她同克莱门茨太太一起走的。农场主的妻子托德太太不清楚她们为什么要走,也不知道她们到哪里去了。她只告诉我几天前安妮·凯瑟里克看了当地报纸上的什么消息后,就一直心神不安。我看了那份报纸,上面提到了劳拉将要举行的婚礼。托德太太说安妮·凯瑟里克昨晚晕倒了,原因很明显,我们庄园一个女仆带来的消息吓到了她,那个女仆昨晚放假来农场做客。”

我们马上回到庄园向那个女仆了解情况。哈尔库姆小姐问她,在农场的时候是不是提到了珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士的名字。“对,提到了,”女仆回答,“我说他星期一要来庄园。”

这个时候,一辆马车停在了门口,这家的老朋友和法律顾问吉尔摩先生从车里走下来。他是一位慈眉善目、穿着考究的老人。哈尔库姆小姐为我做了引见,然后就和吉尔摩先生去谈有关家里的事务了。我走进了外面的花园。我在利默里奇庄园的日子很快就要结束了,我想同这里的一切道个别。在这个花园里,我多少次和费尔利小姐散步,这是我享受幸福,享受爱情的地方。秋日的天灰蒙蒙的,空气很潮湿,那些甜美的记忆已经开始褪色。

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我回到屋里以后,见到了吉尔摩先生。

“呵,哈特里特先生,”他对我说,“哈尔库姆小姐已经跟我说了费尔利小姐收到那封奇怪来信的事,你帮了很大的忙。我想告诉你,对这件事的调查我很有把握,我已经给珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士在伦敦的律师写了信,我相信我们会得到一个满意的答复的。”

“我倒不像你那么有把握。”我说。

“好吧,好吧,”吉尔摩先生说,“那我们就等等结果吧。”

那天吃晚饭的时候——我在利默里奇庄园的最后一次晚饭——我努力控制自己的情感。我看得出费尔利小姐也非常不自在。像以前快乐的日子里一样,她把手伸给我,但她的手指在颤抖,脸上没有一点血色。只有吉尔摩先生滔滔不绝地说这说那,之后大家像往常一样来到客厅。费尔利小姐坐到了钢琴旁。

“我弹几首你喜欢的莫扎特的曲子好吗?你还坐我旁边的椅子,好吗?”她神色不安地问我。

“这是我在这里的最后一个晚上了,我照你说的做。”我对她说。

“你要走了,我很难过。”她的声音低得几乎听不到。

“我会记住你的话,费尔利小姐,明天以后我会一直记着的。”我说。

“不要提明天。”

接下来她开始弹钢琴,最后到说晚安的时候了。

转天早晨,我看到哈尔库姆小姐和费尔利小姐在楼下等我。我刚要开口说话,费尔利小姐转身跑出了房间。我尽量控制着自己的声音,但只说了一句:“给我写信好吗,哈尔库姆小姐?”

她紧紧握住我的双手,她的慷慨和同情让她显得漂亮起来。“我当然会的,沃尔特。再见——愿上帝保佑你!”

她离开片刻后,费尔利小姐回来了,手里还拿着什么东西。那是她自己画的我们初次相见的凉亭。她眼里噙着泪水,把画递给我。“留个纪念吧。”她轻声说。我吻着她的手,眼泪禁不住流了下来。我转身离去。她一下子跌坐到椅子上,头垂到了手臂上。那一刻,我明白劳拉·费尔利也在爱着我。但是,一切都结束了,我们被分开了。

3.The unsigned letter

PART ONE
THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
第一部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

1
A meeting by moonlight

It was the last day of July. The long hot summer was coming to an end, and I was feeling ill and depressed. I was also short of money, so I had little chance of escaping from the dusty London streets, and would have to spend the autumn economically between my rooms in the city and my mother's house.

My mother and my sister, Sarah, lived in a cottage in Hampstead, in the northern suburbs, and I usually went to see them twice a week. This evening I arrived at the gate of the cottage just as it was starting to get dark. I had hardly rung the bell before the door was opened violently, and my Italian friend, Professor Pesca, rushed out to greet me.

Pesca was a language teacher who had left Italy for political reasons and had made his home in England. He was a strange, excitable little man, who was always trying to be more English than the English. I had met him from time to time when he was teaching in the same houses as I was, and then one day I met him by chance in Brighton. We agreed to go for a swim together in the sea. He was very enthusiastic and it never for a moment occurred to me that he did not know how to swim! Fortunately, when he suddenly sank to the bottom, I was able to dive down and save him. From that day on he was my grateful friend, and that evening he showed his gratitude to me in a way that changed my whole life.

'Now, my good friends,' he said, when we were all in my mother's sitting-room. 'I have some wonderful news for you. I have been asked by my employer to recommend a drawing teacher for a post with a rich family in the north of England. And who do you think I have recommended? The best drawing teacher in the world — Mr Walter Hartright!'

'My dear Pesca! How good you are to Walter!' exclaimed my mother. 'How kind, how generous you are!'

As for myself, although I was certainly grateful for his kindness, I still felt strangely depressed. I thanked him warmly, however, and asked to see the conditions. The note he gave me said that a qualified drawing teacher was wanted by Mr Frederick Fairlie of Limmeridge House, Cumberland, to teach his two young nieces for a period of at least four months. The teacher was to live at Limmeridge House as a gentleman and receive four pounds a week. Letters to show he was of good character would be required.

The position was certainly an attractive one, and I could not understand why I felt so little enthusiasm for it. However, since my mother and sister thought it was a great opportunity, and I had no wish to hurt Pesca's feelings, I agreed to apply for the job.

The next morning I sent my letters of recommendation to the Professor's employer, and four days later I heard that Mr Fairlie accepted my services and requested me to start for Cumberland immediately. I arranged to leave the next day, and in the evening I walked to Hampstead to say goodbye to my mother and Sarah.

When I left them at midnight, a full moon was shining in a dark blue, starless sky, and the air was soft and warm. I decided to take the long route home, and walk across Hampstead Heath before joining the road into the centre of the city. After a while I came to a crossroads and turned onto the London road. I was lost in my own thoughts, wondering about the two young ladies in Cumberland, when suddenly, my heart seemed to stop beating. A hand had touched my shoulder from behind.

I turned at once, my hand tightening on my walking stick.

There, as if it had dropped from the sky, stood the figure of a woman, dressed from head to foot in white clothes. I was too surprised to speak.

'Is that the road into London?' she said.

I looked at her carefully. It was then nearly one o'clock. All I could see in the moonlight was a young colourless face, large sad eyes, and light brown hair. Her manner was quiet and self-controlled. What sort of woman she was, and why she was out so late alone, I could not guess. But there was nothing evil about her — indeed, a kind of sad innocence seemed to come from her.

'Did you hear me?' she said, quietly and rapidly.

'Yes,' I replied, 'that's the road. Please excuse me — I was rather surprised by your sudden appearance.'

'You don't suspect me of doing anything wrong, do you?'

'No, no, seeing you so suddenly gave me a shock, that's all.'

'I heard you coming,' she said, 'and hid behind those trees to see what sort of man you were, before I risked speaking. May I trust you?' Her eyes searched my face, anxiously.

Her loneliness and helplessness were so obvious that I felt great sympathy for her. 'Tell me how I can help you,' I said, 'and if I can, I will.'

'Oh, thank you, thank you. You are very kind.' Her voice trembled a little as she spoke. 'I don't know London at all. Can I get a cab or a carriage at this time of night? Could you show me where to get one, and will you promise not to interfere with me? I have a friend in London who will be glad to receive me. I want nothing else — will you promise?'

She looked nervously up and down the road, then back at me.

How could I refuse? Her fear and confusion were painful to see.

'Will you promise?' she repeated.

'Yes.'

We set off together towards the centre of London. It was like a dream — walking along that familiar road, with so strange and so mysterious a companion at my side.

'Do you know any men of the rank of Baronet in London?' she asked suddenly.

There was a note of suspicion in the strange question, and when I said I knew no Baronets, she seemed relieved. I questioned her further, and she murmured that she had been cruelly used by a Baronet she would not name. She told me she came from Hampshire and asked if I lived in London. I explained that I did, but that I was leaving for Cumberland the next day.

'Cumberland!' she repeated softly. 'Ah! I wish I was going there too. I was once happy in Cumberland, in Limmeridge village. I'd like to see Limmeridge House again.'

Limmeridge House! I stopped, amazed.

'What's wrong?' she asked anxiously. 'Did you hear anybody calling after us?'

'No, no. It's just that I heard the name of Limmeridge House very recently. Do you know somebody there?'

'I did once,' she said. 'But Mrs Fairlie is dead; and her husband is dead; and their little girl may be married and gone away...'

Perhaps she would have told me more, but just at that moment we saw a cab. I stopped it, and she quickly got in.

'Please,' I said, 'let me see you safely to your friend's house.'

'No, no,' she cried. 'I'm quite safe, and you must let me go. Remember your promise! But thank you — oh! thank you.'

She caught my hand in hers, kissed it, and pushed it away. The cab disappeared into the black shadows on the road — and the woman in white had gone.

Ten minutes later I was still on the same road, thinking uneasily about the whole adventure, when I heard wheels behind me. An open carriage with two men in it passed me, then stopped when they saw a policeman walking further down the street.

'Officer!' cried one of the men. 'Have you seen a woman pass this way? A woman in white clothes?'

'No, sir. Why? What has she done?'

'Done! She has escaped from my asylum.'

An asylum! But the woman had not seemed mad to me. Nervous, and a little strange, perhaps, but not mad. What had I done? Had I helped a woman wrongly imprisoned to escape? Or had I failed to protect a sick person who might come to harm? These disturbing thoughts kept me awake all night after I had got back to my rooms, until at last it was time to leave London and set out for Cumberland.

*  *  *

My travelling instructions directed me to Carlisle and then to change trains for Limmeridge. However, because of a long delay I missed my connection and did not get to Limmeridge till past ten. A servant in rather a bad temper was waiting for me at the station with a carriage and when I arrived at Limmeridge House everyone had gone to bed. I was shown to my room and when I at last put out the candle, I thought to myself, 'What shall I see in my dreams tonight? The woman in white? Or the unknown inhabitants of this Cumberland house?'


depressed adj. dispirited or miserable 无精打采的

economically adv. sparing in the use of resources 节俭地

violently adv. using aggressive physical force 用力地

gratitude n. a feeling of being grateful to someone because they have given you something or done something for you 感激之情;知恩图报之心

recommend v. suggest as fit for some purpose or use 推荐

exclaim v. cry out suddenly esp. in anger, surprise, pain etc. (出于气愤、惊讶、痛苦等)大喊;惊叫

character n. the collective qualities that distinguish a person or thing 特点;品行

apply for make a formal request for something to be done, given etc. 申请

be lost in be engrossed in 全神贯注于……

tighten v. make or become tight or tighter 握紧;攥紧

colourless adj. without colour 没有颜色的

suspect v. be inclined to accuse mentally 怀疑

shock n. a sudden disturbing effect 震惊;吃惊

companion n. a person who accompanies another 伙伴

baronet n. member of lowest British hereditary titled order 准男爵

relieved adj. freed from anxiety or distress 松了一口气

murmur v. utter in a low voice 低声说

adventure n. an unusual and exciting experience 不同寻常又令人兴奋的经历

asylum n. institution offering shelter and support to the mentally ill 精神病院

imprison v. put into prison 囚禁

inhabitant n. one who lives in a place 居住者

1.月下邂逅

那是7月的最后一天。漫长、炎热的夏季已经接近尾声,但我觉得身体不太舒服,心情也有些压抑。我没什么钱,不大可能离开尘土飞扬的伦敦,只得在伦敦的住处和母亲的家中将就这个秋天了。

母亲和妹妹萨拉住在伦敦北郊汉普斯特德的一所小房子里,我每星期会去看她们两次。今天我到那里的时候,天已经快黑了。刚一按门铃,我的意大利朋友,佩斯卡教授就用力打开了门,箭步冲出来迎接我。

佩斯卡由于政治原因从意大利来到英国,在这里做语言教师,安顿了下来。他个头不高,性格古怪而天真,极力表现出比英国人还地道的英国做派。我曾经和他在几个家庭里同为家庭教师,所以经常见面。有一天,我在布赖顿碰到他,两人说好一同到海滨游泳。他当时非常兴奋,我根本没想到他竟然不会游泳!幸好他突然沉下去的时候,我潜进水里把他救了上来。从那以后,他对我感激不尽,我们成了朋友,而这天晚上他的感恩之举改变了我的一生。

大家齐聚客厅时,他说:“嘿,朋友们,我有一个好消息要告诉你们。我的东家让我为英格兰北部一个富有的人家推荐一名绘画教师。你们猜我推荐了谁?我推荐的是世界上最好的绘画教师——沃尔特·哈特里特先生!”

“亲爱的佩斯卡,你对沃尔特真是太好了!”母亲说道。“你真是好心又慷慨!”

我本人也很感激他的好意,但是总觉得有一种莫名的不安。不过我还是热情地跟他道谢,向他打听一些具体情况。他给我的条子上说坎伯兰郡利默里奇庄园的弗雷德里克·费尔利先生要聘请一位优秀的绘画教师,教他的两个侄女画画,聘期至少四个月。受聘教师将住在利默里奇庄园,薪水是一星期4英镑。应聘教师必须出具品行良好的证明信。

这的确是一份令人心动的工作,但不知为什么我就是兴奋不起来。不管怎样,既然母亲和妹妹都认为这是个好机会,我也不愿伤害佩斯卡的感情,于是我答应应聘。

转天早晨,我把推荐信寄给佩斯卡的雇主,四天之后传来消息说,费尔利先生接受了我的应聘,要我立即动身前往坎伯兰郡。我做好了第二天动身的准备,晚上步行到汉普斯特德向母亲和妹妹道别。

离开她们已是子夜时分,深蓝的天空满月高悬,看不见一颗星星,空气温暖宜人。我决定走那条稍远一点儿的路回家,先穿过汉普斯特德荒地,再走通往市中心的那条路。不一会儿,我来到十字路口,踏上了通向伦敦的大路。我满脑子在想着坎伯兰郡两位小姐的事,突然一只手从后面拍了拍我的肩膀,吓得我心跳都快停止了。

我猛地转过身,攥紧了手杖。

我眼前站着一个白衣女人,仿佛从天而降。我惊得一句话也说不出来。

“那条路是去伦敦的吗?”那女人开口问道。

我仔细打量着她。这时已将近凌晨1点了。借着月光我只能看出一张年轻却没有血色的脸,一对哀伤的大眼睛和淡棕色的头发。她看上去镇定自若。我猜不出她是个什么样的女人,这么晚了为什么孤身一人在外面。可是她看上去没有恶意,实际上还流露出一丝哀伤和纯真。

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“你听见我说话了吗?”她很快地轻声说。

“是的,”我赶忙回答,“是那条路。请原谅,你出现得太突然,吓了我一跳。”

“你不会怀疑我在做什么坏事吧?”

“不,不是。只不过突然看到你,吓了一跳。”

“我听到你走过来,”她说,“就先躲在树后看你是什么样的人,然后才敢同你说话的。我能信赖你吗?”她不安地看着我的脸。

她看起来实在是非常孤独和无助,这大大地激起了我的同情。“说吧,我能为你做什么,”我说,“只要我能做的,一定帮忙。”

“哦,谢谢,谢谢。你真是个好人。”她的声音有些颤抖,“我对伦敦一无所知,这时候还有出租马车吗?你能告诉我哪里能找辆车吗?你能保证不要多问吗?我在伦敦有朋友,她会帮我的,就是这样——你能保证吗?”

她神色紧张地朝大路张望,然后又回头看我。

我怎么能够拒绝呢?她紧张而慌乱的样子令人不安。

“你能保证吗?”她再一次问。

“我保证。”

我们一起朝伦敦市中心走去。这真像是一场梦——走在熟悉的路上,身旁多了一位陌生、神秘的同路人。

“你认识伦敦有准男爵爵位的人吗?”她突然问我。

从这个奇怪的问题可以看出她对我还是有所怀疑,当我告诉她我一个准男爵也不认识时,她似乎才松了一口气。我进一步追问,她低声告诉我一个准男爵害过她,她不愿说出他的名字。她说她从汉普郡来,问我是否住在伦敦。我告诉她我是住在伦敦,但天一亮就要去坎伯兰郡了。

“坎伯兰郡!”她轻声重复着,“啊,我要是也能去那儿就好了。我曾在坎伯兰郡的利默里奇村度过一段快乐的时光,真想再看一看利默里奇庄园。”

利默里奇庄园!我停住脚步,感到很惊讶。

“怎么啦?”她急切地问,“你听到我们后面有人在喊吗?”

“不,不是。因为我最近听说过利默里奇庄园,你认识那里的什么人吗?”

“以前认识,”她回答,“不过费尔利夫人已经死了,她丈夫也死了,他们的小女儿可能已经结婚离开了那里。”

若不是看见一辆出租马车,她也许会告诉我更多的事情。我叫住马车,她很快上了车。

我说:“还是让我把你平平安安地送到朋友家吧。”

“不,不,”她大声说,“我现在很安全,你就让我自己走吧。你答应过我的!谢谢你,谢谢。”

她抓住我的手,吻了一下,然后推开。马车的影子消失在夜幕中的大路上——白衣女人也不见了。

十分钟后,我还走在同一条路上,回想着刚才发生的怪事,忽然身后传来车轮的声音。两个人坐着敞篷马车从我身边经过,他们看见路上有个警察在巡逻,就停下车来。

“警官!”一个人说,“你看没看见一个女人从这条路上走过,一个穿白衣服的女人?”

“没有,先生。怎么啦?她做了什么?”

“做了什么!她从精神病院跑出来了。”

精神病院!可是我不觉得那个女人是疯子。她神色紧张,有点儿怪,但并不疯。我究竟做了什么?是帮助一个被无端关进精神病院的女人逃跑了?还是没有看管好一个可能伤害别人的病人?这些问题让我回到家后心神不定,难以入睡,直到该起床动身前往坎伯兰郡了,还是没有睡着。

*  *  *

我的行程安排是先到卡莱尔,然后换乘开往利默里奇的火车,可是由于去卡莱尔的车晚点了许多,我没有赶上转乘的车,直到10点多才到利默里奇。一个脾气很差的仆人赶了一辆马车在车站等我,到利默里奇庄园的时候,那儿的人都已经睡了。我被带到了房间,最后吹熄蜡烛睡觉的时候,我想:“今晚我会梦见谁呢?那个白衣女人?还是坎伯兰郡这个庄园里的陌生人?”

2
Life at Limmeridge House

When I got up the next morning, I was greeted by bright sunlight and a view of blue sea through the window. The future suddenly seemed full of promise. I found my way down to the breakfast-room and there, looking out of a window with her back turned to me, was a young woman with a perfect figure. But when she turned and walked towards me, I saw to my surprise that her face was ugly. Hair grew on her upper lip, and her mouth was large and firm. It was almost a man's face, but the friendly smile she gave me softened it and made her look more womanly. She welcomed me in a pleasant, educated voice and introduced herself as Marian Halcombe, Miss Fairlie's half-sister.

'My mother was twice married,' she explained, in her easy, friendly manner. 'The first time to Mr Halcombe, my father, and the second time to Mr Fairlie, my half-sister's father. My father was a poor man, and Miss Fairlie's father was a rich man. I've got nothing, and she has a fortune. I'm dark and ugly, and she's fair and pretty.' She said all this quite happily. 'My sister and I are very fond of each other, so you must please both of us, Mr Hartright, or please neither of us.'

She then told me that Miss Fairlie had a headache that morning and was being looked after by Mrs Vesey, an elderly lady who had once been Miss Fairlie's governess.

'So we shall be alone at breakfast, Mr Hartright,' she said. 'As for Mr Fairlie, your employer, you will doubtless meet him later. He is Miss Fairlie's uncle, a single man, who became Miss Fairlie's guardian when her parents died. He suffers from some mysterious illness of the nerves, and never leaves his rooms.'

While we ate breakfast, she described the quiet, regular life that she and her sister led. 'Do you think you will get used to it?' she said. 'Or will you be restless, and wish for some adventure?'

Hearing the word 'adventure' reminded me of my meeting with the woman in white, and her reference to Mrs Fairlie. I told Miss Halcombe all about my adventure, and she showed an eager interest, especially in the mention of her mother.

'But you didn't find out the woman's name?' she said.

'I'm afraid not. Only that she came from Hampshire.'

'Well, I shall spend the morning,' said Miss Halcombe, 'looking through my mother's letters. I'm sure I will find some clues there to explain this mystery. Lunch is at two o'clock, Mr Hartright, and I shall introduce you to my sister then.'

After breakfast Mr Fairlie's personal servant, Louis, came to tell me that Mr Fairlie would like to see me. I followed the servant upstairs and was shown into a large room full of art treasures. There, in an armchair, sat a small, pale, delicate-looking man of about fifty. Despite his fine clothes and the valuable rings on his soft white fingers, there was something very unattractive about him.

'So glad to have you here, Mr Hartright,' he said in a high, complaining voice. 'Please sit down, but don't move the chair. In my state of nerves any movement is painful to me. May I ask if you have found everything satisfactory here at Limmeridge?'

When I began to reply, he at once raised his hand to stop me.

'Please excuse me. But could you speak more softly? I simply cannot bear loud voices, or indeed, any kind of loud sound.'

The interview did not last long as Mr Fairlie quickly lost interest in it. He informed me that the ladies would make all the arrangements for their drawing lessons.

'I suffer so much from my nerves, Mr Hartright,' he said. 'Do you mind ringing the bell for Louis? Thank you. Good morning!'

With great relief I left the room, and spent the rest of the morning looking forward to lunchtime, when I would be introduced to Miss Fairlie.

*  *  *

At two o'clock I entered the dining room and found Miss Halcombe seated at the table with a rather fat lady who smiled all the time. This, I discovered, was Mrs Vesey. We started eating and before long we had finished lunch, with still no sign of Miss Fairlie. Miss Halcombe noticed my frequent glances at the door.

'I understand you, Mr Hartright,' she said. 'You are wondering about your other student. Well, she has got over her headache, but did not want any lunch. If you will follow me, I think I can find her somewhere in the garden.'

We walked out together along a path through the garden, until we came to a pretty summer-house. Inside I could see a young lady standing near a table, looking out at the view and turning the pages of a little drawing book. This was Miss Laura Fairlie.

How can I describe her? How can I separate this moment from all that has happened since then? In a drawing I later made of her she appears as a light, youthful figure wearing a simple white and blue striped dress and a summer hat. Her hair is light brown, almost gold, and she has eyes that are clear and blue, with a look of truth in them. They give her whole face such a charm that it is difficult to notice each individual feature: the delicate, though not perfectly straight, nose; the sweet, sensitive mouth. The life and beauty of her face lies in her eyes.

Such was my impression, but at the same time I felt there was something about her that I could not explain — something that I ought to remember, but could not. In fact, I was thinking about this so much that I could hardly answer when she greeted me.

Miss Halcombe, believing I was shy, quickly said, 'Look at your perfect student,' and she pointed at the sketches. 'She has already started work before your lessons have begun. You must show them to Mr Hartright, Laura, when we go for a drive.'

Miss Fairlie laughed with bright good humour.

'I hope he will give his true opinion of them and not just say something to please me,' she said.

'May I enquire why you say that?' I asked.

'Because I shall believe all that you tell me,' she answered simply.

In those few words she gave me the key to her own trusting, truthful character.

Later we went for our promised drive, but I must confess that I was far more interested in Miss Fairlie's conversation than her sketches. I soon realized I was behaving more like a guest than a drawing teacher and when I was on my own again I felt uneasy and dissatisfied with myself.

At dinner that evening these feelings soon disappeared, and when the meal was over, we went into a large sitting room with glass doors leading into the garden. Mrs Vesey fell asleep in an armchair and Miss Halcombe sat near a window to look through her mother's letters. At my request Miss Fairlie played the piano.

How will I ever forget that peaceful picture? The flowers outside, the music of Mozart, Miss Halcombe reading the letters in the half-light, the delicate outline of Miss Fairlie's face against the dark wall. It was an evening of sights and sounds to remember for ever.

Later, when Miss Fairlie had finished playing and had wandered out into the moonlit garden, Miss Halcombe called me.

'Mr Hartright, will you come here for a minute?'

I went over and she showed me a letter.

'It's from my mother to her second husband twelve years ago. She mentions a lady from Hampshire called Mrs Catherick, who had come to look after her sick sister living in the village. It seems she brought her only child with her, a little girl called Anne, who was about a year older than Laura. I was at a school in Paris at the time. My mother, who took a great interest in the village school, says the little girl was slow in learning so she gave her lessons here at the house. She also gave her some of Laura's white dresses and white hats, saying she looked better in white than any other colour. She says that little Anne Catherick was so grateful, and loved her so much, that one day she kissed her hand and said, "I'll always wear white as long as I live. It will help me to remember you."'

Miss Halcombe stopped and looked at me.

'Did the woman you met that night seem young enough to be twenty-two or twenty-three?'

'Yes, Miss Halcombe, as young as that.'

'And was she dressed from head to foot, all in white?'

'All in white.'

From where I sat, I could see Miss Fairlie walking in the garden, and the whiteness of her dress in the moonlight suddenly made my heart beat faster.

'Now listen to what my mother says at the end of the letter,' Miss Halcombe continued. 'It will surprise you. She says that perhaps the real reason for her liking little Anne Catherick so much was that she looked exactly like —'

Before she could finish, I jumped up. Outside stood Miss Fairlie, a white figure alone in the moonlight. And suddenly I realized what it was that I had been unable to remember — it was the extraordinary likeness between Miss Laura Fairlie and the runaway from the asylum, the woman in white.

'You see it!' said Miss Halcombe. 'Just as my mother saw the likeness between them years ago.'

'Yes,' I replied. 'But very unwillingly. To connect that lonely, friendless woman, even by an accidental likeness, to Miss Fairlie disturbs me very much. I don't like to think of it. Please call her in from that horrible moonlight!'

'We won't say anything about this likeness to Laura,' she said. 'It will be a secret between you and me.' Then she called Miss Fairlie in, asking her to play the piano again; and so my first, eventful day at Limmeridge House came to an end.

*  *  *

The days passed, the weeks passed, and summer changed into a golden autumn. A peaceful, happy time, but at last, I had to confess to myself my real feelings for Miss Fairlie.

I loved her.

Every day I was near her in that dangerous closeness which exists between teacher and student. Often, as we bent over her sketch-book, our hands and faces almost touched. I breathed the perfume of her hair. I should have put a professional distance between myself and her, as I had always done with my students in the past. But I did not, and it was soon too late.

By the third month of my stay in Cumberland, I was lost in dreams of love and blind to the dangers ahead of me. Then the first warning finally came — from her. In the space of one night, she changed towards me. There was a sudden nervous distance, and a kind of sadness, in her attitude. The pain I felt at that moment is beyond description. But I knew then that she had changed because she had suddenly discovered not only my feelings, but her own as well. This change was also reflected in Miss Halcombe, who said nothing unusual to me, but who had developed a new habit of always watching me. This new and awful situation continued for some time until, on a Thursday, near the end of the third month, I was at last rescued by the sensible and courageous Miss Halcombe.

'Have you got a moment for me?' she asked after breakfast. 'Shall we go into the garden?'

We walked to the summer-house and went inside. Miss Halcombe turned to me. 'Mr Hartright, what I have to say to you I can say here. Now, I know that you are a good man who always acts correctly. Your story about that unhappy woman in London proves that. As your friend, I must tell you that I have discovered your feelings for my sister, Laura. Although you have done nothing wrong, except show weakness, I must tell you to leave Limmeridge House before any harm is done. And there is something else I must tell you, which will also give you pain. Will you shake hands with your friend, Marian Halcombe, first?'

She spoke with such kindness that I shook her hand.

'You must leave because Laura Fairlie is to be married.'

The last word went like a bullet to my heart. I turned white, I felt cold. With one word all my hopes disappeared.

'You must put an end to your feelings, here, where you first met her. I will hide nothing from you. She is not marrying for love, but because of a promise she made to her father just before he died. The man she is to marry arrives here next Monday.'

'Let me go today,' I said bitterly. 'The sooner the better.'

'No, not today. That would look strange. Wait till tomorrow, after the post has arrived. Say to Mr Fairlie that you have received bad news and must return to London.'

'I will follow your advice, Miss Halcombe,' I said sadly. 'But may I ask who the gentleman engaged to Miss Fairlie is?'

'A rich man from Hampshire.'

Hampshire! Again a connection with Anne Catherick!

'And his name?' I asked, as calmly as I could.

'Sir Percival Glyde.'

Sir! I remembered Anne Catherick's suspicious question about Baronets, and my voice shook a little as I asked, 'Is he a Baronet?'

She paused for a moment, then answered, 'Yes, a Baronet.'


figure n. bodily shape 身材

womanly adj. having or showing qualities associated with women 具有或表现出女子气质的

fortune n. great wealth; a large sum of money 大笔财富

guardian n. a person having legal custody of another person when that person is incapable of managing his or her own affairs 监护人

reference n. the act of referring to a person etc. for information 提及;提到

delicate adj. easily made ill 娇弱的

bear v. tolerate; put up with 忍受

good morning courteous farewell 早上(上午)礼貌的告别方式

get over recover from an illness 恢复;痊愈

youthful adj. having freshness or vigour of youth 年轻的

enquire v. ask a question

confess v. admit 承认

uneasy adj. disturbed or uncomfortable in mind or body 不自在的;不舒服的

peaceful adj. characterized by peace, tranquil 平静的

extraordinary adj. unusual or remarkable 不同寻常的

runaway n. a person who flees from enemy, danger or a master 逃跑者

eventful adj. marked by noteworthy events 发生事情比较多的

professional adj. connected with a profession 职业的

blind adj. without foresight, intellectual perception or adequate information 不知道的;不了解的

sensible adj. reasonable, judicious 明智的;理智的

engaged adj. under a promise to marry 订婚

pause v. to cease or suspend an action temporarily 停顿

2.在利默里奇庄园的日子

第二天起床,迎接我的是灿烂的阳光和窗外湛蓝的大海。未来突然好像一片光明。我下楼来到早餐室,一位身材优美的年轻女士正背对我望着窗外。当她转身向我走来时,我吃惊地发现她长得很丑。她的上唇上长着胡须,嘴唇又大又厚。尽管脸长得像个男人,但是友好的微笑使她看上去有了一些女人味儿。她同我打招呼,声音悦耳,听起来很有教养。她告诉我她叫玛丽安·哈尔库姆,费尔利小姐同母异父的姐姐。

“我母亲结过两次婚,”她以一种平和友善的语调对我说,“第一次嫁给哈尔库姆先生,我父亲,第二次嫁给费尔利先生,费尔利小姐的父亲。我父亲一贫如洗,费尔利小姐的父亲却是个有钱人。我本人一无所有,但她很富有。我长得又黑又丑,她又白又漂亮。”她兴致勃勃地说着这一切,“我们姐妹俩非常要好,先生,所以你必须要讨好我们俩,要不就谁也别讨好。”

她又告诉我费尔利小姐早上头疼,维西夫人正在照顾她,维西夫人原来是费尔利小姐的家庭教师。

“今天早饭就我们两个了,哈特里特先生,”她说,“至于费尔利先生,你的雇主,你肯定得过些时候才能见到他了,他是费尔利小姐的叔叔,单身一人,费尔利小姐父母死后,他就成了她的监护人。他患有一种古怪的神经疾病,从不离开他的房间半步。”

吃早饭的时候,她对我讲了她们姐妹俩平静而规律的生活。“你觉得你能适应这样的生活吗?”她问,“你是否会烦躁不安,希望有些新奇的事情发生?”

“新奇”这个词让我想起遇到白衣女人的事,她曾经提到过费尔利夫人。当我把我的奇异经历告诉哈尔库姆小姐时,她对这件事表现出浓厚的兴趣,特别对提到她的母亲这个细节。

“你不知道那女人叫什么名字吗?”

“不知道。只知道她从汉普郡来。”

“那好吧,我今天早上,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“就翻一翻母亲的信件。我想一定会从中找出点线索解开这个谜。午饭时间是两点,哈特里特先生,到时我会把你介绍给我妹妹。”

早饭后,费尔利先生的贴身仆人路易斯过来告诉我费尔利先生要见我。我跟他上了楼,被带到一个很大的房间,里面有许多艺术珍品。扶手椅上坐着一个苍白羸弱的小个子男人,大概五十岁上下。尽管他穿着考究,白皙柔软的手指上带着贵重的戒指,但是他身上有一种让人非常不喜欢的东西。

“非常高兴你能来这里工作,哈特里特先生,”他的声音尖锐刺耳,还带着一丝怨气,“请坐,但请不要动椅子。任何动静都会刺激我的神经,让我难受。你在利默里奇感到还满意吗?”

我刚要说话,他又马上举手示意我先别说。

“请原谅,你说话声音轻点吗?我受不了大声说话,任何太响的声音我都受不了。”

我们的面谈没有持续很长时间,因为费尔利先生很快就没了兴趣。他告诉我小姐们会安排所有关于绘画课的事宜。

“我的神经很差,哈特里特先生,你能帮我摇铃叫一下路易斯吗?谢谢。再见。”

离开他的房间,我长出了一口气。上午剩下的时间我一直在等着吃午饭,到时就可以见到费尔利小姐了。

*  *  *

两点钟,我来到餐厅,看到哈尔库姆小姐同一位体态丰满的女士坐在桌旁,那位女士一直面带微笑。她就是维西夫人。我们开始一起吃饭,不一会儿就吃完了,但一直没见到费尔利小姐的影子。哈尔库姆小姐注意到我不断地朝门口张望。

“我知道你在想什么,哈特里特先生,”她说,“你一定在想你的另一个学生。她头痛已经好了,但不想吃东西。如果你跟我来,我可以在花园里找到她。”

我们一起沿着花园的小路来到一个漂亮的凉亭前。我看到里面有一位小姐站在一张桌子旁,望着外面的风景,手中翻动着一本小画册。这就是劳拉·费尔利小姐。

我该怎样描述她呢?我怎样才能把此时此刻同后来发生的一切分开呢?在我后来画的一张她的肖像里,她年轻活泼,身穿式样简单的蓝白条纹连衣裙,头戴遮阳帽。她的头发是淡棕色,接近金色。她有一双清澈诚实的蓝眼睛,使她魅力四射,让你不再注意她脸上的其他细节:小巧但不很直的鼻子,还有甜美动人的双唇。她脸部的活力和美丽都源自那双眼睛。

这就是她给我的印象,但同时她身上有一些我无法解释的东西——一些我应该记得,却想不起来的东西。我完全沉浸在自己的思绪里,甚至她向我打招呼时,我几乎都说不出话来。

哈尔库姆小姐可能觉得我是个腼腆的人,马上说:“看看你的学生多好,”然后又指了指那些画,“你的课还没开始,她已经开始自己画了。劳拉,我们一会儿坐马车出去的时候,把你的画给哈特里特先生看看。”

费尔利小姐开心地笑起来。

“我希望先生把真实的评价告诉我,不要光说好话哄我。”她说。

“请问你为什么这么说呢?”我问她。

“因为你的任何评价我都会相信。”她回答得很爽快。

从这些话里我看出她天性真诚,会毫无保留地相信他人。

过了一会儿,我们按计划坐马车出去,然而我必须承认比起费尔利小姐的画,我对她的言谈更感兴趣。我很快意识到自己的表现与其说像绘画教师不如说更像客人。自己一个人的时候,我感到有些不自在,对自己不满意。

晚饭的时候,这些感觉很快消失了。吃罢晚饭,我们来到一间大客厅,这里装有通往花园的玻璃门。维西夫人在扶手椅上睡着了,哈尔库姆小姐在翻阅她母亲的信件。在我的请求下,费尔利小姐弹起了钢琴。

这样安逸的情景我怎能忘记呢?屋外的鲜花,莫扎特的音乐,哈尔库姆小姐在微暗的光线下读信的样子,费尔利小姐映在昏暗的墙壁上的美丽侧脸,今晚这一切声音和情景都令人难以忘怀。

过了一会儿,费尔利小姐弹完了琴,走进月光下的花园。哈尔库姆小姐叫我。

“哈特里特先生,你能过来一下吗?”

我走过去,她递给我一封信。

“这是妈妈12年前写给她第二个丈夫的信。信中提到从汉普郡来的凯瑟里克太太,她是来照料住在村子里生病的妹妹的。她好像把她的独生女儿小安妮带来了,安妮比劳拉大1岁左右。当时我在巴黎读书,妈妈那时对村子里的学校非常感兴趣,她觉得小安妮学习比较吃力,就在家里辅导她。妈妈还把劳拉的一些白连衣裙和帽子送给她,说安妮穿白色衣服最好看。她说安妮·凯瑟里克很感激,也很喜欢她。一天,她吻过妈妈的手,说:‘我一辈子都会穿白色衣服,因为白色让我永远记着你。’”

哈尔库姆小姐停下来看着我,问道:

“你那天晚上碰到的那个女人,是不是只有二十二三岁的样子?”

“没错,哈尔库姆小姐,差不多那么大。”

“她是不是从头到脚都穿白色?”

“的确都是白色的。”

从我坐的地方可以看到费尔利小姐在花园中散步,月光下她的白色连衣裙突然间使我的心跳加快了。

“听听妈妈在信的末尾是怎么说的,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“你一定会感到吃惊的。她说她之所以那么喜欢小安妮·凯瑟里克,可能是因为她长得特别像——”

没等她说完,我一下子跳了起来。外面站着费尔利小姐,月光下一个孤零零的白色身影,猛然间我明白了我没有想起来的是什么了——就是劳拉·费尔利小姐同从精神病院跑出来的白衣女人惊人地相似。

“你看出来了!”哈尔库姆小姐说,“和妈妈一样,她多年前也看出了她们之间惊人的相似。”

“是的,”我说,“但是我非常不愿意把那个孤独无依的女人同费尔利小姐联系起来,即使这全是出于偶然,也让我内心不安。我不想再想这件事。还是叫她进来吧,那月光太可怕了!”

“我们不要对劳拉讲任何有关相貌相似的事,”她说,“这是我们之间的秘密。”说完,她招呼费尔利小姐进屋来,让她再弹一首曲子。就这样,我在利默里奇不平凡的第一天结束了。

*  *  *

日子一天天、一个星期又一个星期地过去了,夏季已被金秋取代。这是宁静而快乐的季节,然而,我最终还是必须向自己承认对费尔利小姐的感觉。

我爱上了她。

作为师生,每天我都和她那么接近,这很危险。很多次,在低头翻看写生簿的时候,我们的手和脸几乎要碰到,我可以闻到她头发的香味。我本应与她保持教师与学生应有的距离,我和过去教过的学生都是这样。但是我现在没有,而且已经来不及了。

来坎伯兰郡的第三个月,我已经完全沉浸在爱的幻想中,对将要到来的危险一无所知。第一个危险的信号终于来了——而且就来自于。一夜之间,她对我的态度发生了变化,她对我有一种拘束的疏离感,还有一种莫名的哀伤。我当时的痛苦无法言表。不过后来我才知道她是因为发现了我的感受,也发现了她自己的感受才有这样的变化。这种变化还反映在哈尔库姆小姐身上,她虽然没跟我说什么,但是开始经常注视着我。这种可怕的新状况一直持续到将近第三个月末的一个星期四。最后,理智、勇敢的哈尔库姆小姐帮我得到了解脱。

“能占用你一点儿时间吗?”早饭后她这样问我,“我们去花园走走好吗?”

我们来到凉亭,走了进去。哈尔库姆小姐转向我;“哈特里特先生,我要向你说的话在这儿可以说了。我知道你是一位举止得体的好人,你跟我讲的关于伦敦那个不幸女人的事证明了这一点。但是,作为你的朋友,我必须告诉你,我发现了你对我妹妹劳拉的感情。除了表现得有些软弱,你没做错什么,不过我还是必须劝你在造成伤害之前离开利默里奇庄园。我还有些事要告诉你,可能会让你痛苦。你能不能先和你的朋友玛丽安·哈尔库姆握握手?”

她说得非常诚恳,我握了握她的手。

“你必须离开这里,因为劳拉·费尔利就要结婚了。”

最后那个词就像一颗子弹一样穿过我的胸膛。我的脸色苍白,全身冰冷。就因为这一个词,我所有的希望都消失了。

“你必须在这里结束这段感情,就在你们初次相识的地方。我不会对你有任何隐瞒,她不是为了爱才结婚,而是因为她在她父亲临终时做的承诺。她要嫁的人下星期一到这里。”

“我今天就走,”我难过地说,“越快越好。”

“不,不要今天走。那样会让别人觉得奇怪。等到明天邮差来了再走。你就跟费尔利先生说收到了坏消息,必须马上回伦敦去。”

“我按你说的做,哈尔库姆小姐,”我伤心地说,“不过,你能告诉我同费尔利小姐订婚的先生是谁吗?”

“是汉普郡的一个有钱人。”

汉普郡!又一个和安妮·凯瑟里克有关的线索!

“他叫什么?”我尽量平静地问。

“珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士。”

爵士!我想起安妮·凯瑟里克问过的有关准男爵的问题。“他是准男爵吗?”我的声音有些颤抖。

她停了一停,说道:“对,他是准男爵。”

3
The unsigned letter

As I sat alone in my room later that morning, my thoughts crowded in on me. There was no reason at all for me to connect Sir Percival Glyde with the man who had made Anne Catherick so afraid — but I did. My suffering was great, but even greater was my feeling that some terrible, invisible danger lay ahead of us. Then I heard a knock at my door. It was Miss Halcombe.

'Mr Hartright, I am sorry to disturb you, but you are the only person who can advise me. A letter has just arrived for Miss Fairlie — a horrible, unsigned letter, warning her not to marry Sir Percival Glyde. It has upset my sister very much. Should I try to find out who wrote it or wait to speak to Mr Gilmore, Mr Fairlie's legal adviser, who arrives tomorrow?'

She gave me the letter. There was no greeting, no signature.

Do you believe in dreams, Miss Fairlie? Last night I dreamt I saw you in your white wedding dress in a church, so pretty, so innocent. By your side stood a man with the scar of an old wound on his right hand — a handsome man, but with a black, evil heart; a man who has brought misery to many, and who will bring misery to you. And in my dream I cried for you. Find out the past life of this man, Miss Fairlie, before you marry him. I send you this warning, because your mother was my first, my best, my only friend.

These last words suggested an idea to me, which I was afraid to mention. Was I in danger of losing my balance of mind? Why should everything lead back to the woman in white?

'I think a woman wrote this letter,' said Miss Halcombe. 'It certainly refers to Sir Percival — I remember that scar. What should I do, Mr Hartright? This mystery must be solved. Mr Gilmore is coming to discuss the financial details of Miss Fairlie's marriage, and Sir Percival arrives on Monday to fix the date of the marriage — though Miss Fairlie does not know this yet.'

The date of the marriage! Those words filled me with jealous despair. Perhaps there was some truth in this letter. If I could find the writer, perhaps I would find a way to prove that Sir Percival Glyde was not the honest man he seemed.

'I think we should begin enquiries at once,' I said. 'The longer we delay, the harder it will be to find out anything.'

We questioned the servants and learnt that the letter had been delivered by an elderly woman, who had then disappeared in the direction of the village. People in Limmeridge remembered seeing the woman, but no one could tell us who she was or where she had come from. Finally, I suggested asking the school teacher. As we approached the school door, we could hear the teacher shouting at one of the boys, saying angrily that there were no such things as ghosts. It was an awkward moment, but we went in anyway and asked our question. The teacher could tell us nothing. However, as we turned to leave, Miss Halcombe spoke to the boy standing in the corner:

'Are you the foolish boy who was talking about ghosts?'

'Yes, Miss. But I saw one! I saw it yesterday, in the churchyard. I did! It was — it was the ghost of Mrs Fairlie!'

His answer visibly shocked Miss Halcombe, and the teacher quickly stepped in to explain that the silly boy had said he had seen (or probably imagined) a woman in white standing next to Mrs Fairlie's grave as he passed the churchyard yesterday evening. There was nothing more to it than that.

'What is your opinion of this?' Miss Halcombe asked me as we went out of the school.

'The boy may have seen someone,' I said, 'but not a ghost. I think we should examine the grave. I have this suspicion, Miss Halcombe, that the writer of the letter and the imagined ghost in the churchyard might be the same person.'

She stopped, turned pale, and looked at me. 'What person?'

'Anne Catherick,' I replied. 'The woman in white.'

'I don't know why, but your suspicion frightens me,' she said slowly. 'I will show you the grave, and then I must go back to Laura. We'll meet again at the house later.'

In the churchyard I examined Mrs Fairlie's grave carefully, and noticed that the gravestone had been partly cleaned. Perhaps the person who had done the cleaning would return to finish the job. I decided to come back that evening and watch. Back at the house I explained my plan to Miss Halcombe, who seemed uneasy but made no objection. So, as the sun began to go down, I walked to the churchyard, chose my position, and waited.

After about half an hour I heard footsteps. Then two women passed in front of me and walked to the grave. One wore a long cloak with a hood over her head, hiding her face. Below the cloak a little of her dress was visible — a white dress. The other woman said something to her companion, and then walked away round the corner of the church, leaving the woman in the cloak next to the grave. After looking all around her, she took out a cloth, kissed the white cross and started to clean it.

I approached her slowly and carefully, but when she saw me, she jumped up and looked at me in terror.

There, in front of me, was the face of the woman in white.

'Don't be frightened,' I said. 'Surely you remember me?' Her eyes searched my face. 'I helped you to find the way to London,' I went on. 'Surely you have not forgotten that?'

Her face relaxed as she recognized me, and she sighed in relief. Before this, I had seen her likeness in Miss Fairlie. Now I saw Miss Fairlie's likeness in her. Except that Miss Fairlie's delicate beauty was missing from this tired face, and I could not help thinking that if ever sorrow and suffering fell on Miss Fairlie, then, and only then, they would be the living reflections of one another. It was a horrible thought.

Gently, I began to question her. I told her that I knew she had escaped from an asylum, and that I was glad I had helped her. But had she found her friend in London that night?

'Oh yes. That was Mrs Clements, who is here with me now. She was our neighbour in Hampshire, and took care of me when I was a little girl. She has always been my friend.'

'Have you no father or mother to take care of you?'

'I never saw my father — I never heard mother speak of him. And I don't get on well with her. I'd rather be with Mrs Clements, who is kind, like you.'

I learnt that she was staying with relations of Mrs Clements at a farm, three miles from the village, but there were other, harder questions I wanted to ask. Who had shut her away in an asylum? Her 'unkind' mother, perhaps? What was her motive in writing the letter to Miss Fairlie, accusing Sir Percival Glyde? Was it revenge? What wrong had Sir Percival done her?

She was easily frightened, easily confused, and could only hold one idea in her mind at a time. I tried not to alarm her. Had she ever, I asked, been wronged by a man and then abandoned? Her innocent, puzzled face told me that was not the answer.

All the time we were talking she was cleaning the gravestone with her cloth.

'Mrs Fairlie was my best friend,' she murmured. 'And her daughter...' She looked up at me, then away again, as though hiding her face in guilt. 'Is Miss Fairlie well and happy?' she whispered anxiously.

I decided to try and surprise a confession from her. 'She was not well or happy this morning, after receiving your letter. You wrote it, didn't you? It was wrong to send such a letter.'

Her face went deathly pale. Then she bent down and kissed the gravestone. 'Oh, Mrs Fairlie! Mrs Fairlie! Tell me how to save your daughter. Tell me what to do.'

'You mention no names in the letter, but Miss Fairlie knows that the person you describe is Sir Percival Glyde —'

The moment I said his name she gave such a scream of terror that my blood ran cold. Her face, now full of fear and hatred, told me everything. Without doubt the person who had shut her away in the asylum was Sir Percival Glyde.

At the sound of her scream, Mrs Clements came running and, looking angrily at me, said, 'What is it, my dear? What has this man done to you?'

'Nothing,' the poor girl said. 'He was good to me once. He helped me...' She whispered the rest in her friend's ear.

Then Mrs Clements put her arm round Anne Catherick and led her away. I watched them go, feeling great pity for that poor, pale, frightened face.

Half an hour later I was back at the house, and the story I told Miss Halcombe made her very worried.

'I am certain Sir Percival Glyde put Anne Catherick in the asylum,' I said. 'But why? What is the connection between them?'

'We must find out,' said Miss Halcombe. 'We will go to the farm tomorrow, and I will speak to Anne Catherick myself.'

*  *  *

The first thing I had to do the next morning was to ask Mr Fairlie if I could leave my job a month early. As his nerves were particularly bad, I could not speak to him directly but had to write a note, explaining that some unexpected news forced me to return to London. In reply I received a most unpleasant letter, informing me that I could go. Once, such a letter would have upset me greatly; now, I no longer cared.

Later Miss Halcombe and I walked to the farm, and Miss Halcombe went in while I waited nearby. To my surprise, she returned after only a few minutes.

'Does Anne Catherick refuse to see you?' I asked.

'Anne Catherick has gone,' replied Miss Halcombe. 'She left this morning, with Mrs Clements. The farmer's wife, Mrs Todd, has no idea why they left or where they went. She just said that Anne Catherick had been disturbed after reading something in the local newspaper a couple of days ago. I looked at the paper and saw that it mentioned Laura's future wedding. Then Mrs Todd said that Anne Catherick fainted last night, apparently in shock at something mentioned by one of the servant girls from our house, who was visiting the farm on her evening off.'

We hurried back to the house to question the servant girl. Miss Halcombe asked her if she had mentioned Sir Percival Glyde's name while at the farm. 'Oh yes,' the girl replied. 'I said he was coming on Monday.'

At that moment a cab arrived and Mr Gilmore, the family friend and legal adviser, got out. He was an elderly man, pleasant-looking and neatly dressed. Miss Halcombe introduced me, and then went away to discuss family matters with him. I wandered out into the garden. My time at Limmeridge House was nearly at an end, and I wanted to say a last goodbye to the places where I had so often walked with Miss Fairlie, in the dream-time of my happiness and my love. But the autumn day was grey and damp, and those golden memories were already fading.

As I returned to the house, I met Mr Gilmore.

'Ah, Mr Hartright,' he said. 'Miss Halcombe has told me how helpful you have been about this strange letter received by Miss Fairlie. I want you to know that the investigation is now in my safe hands. I have written to Sir Percival Glyde's lawyer in London and I'm sure we will receive a satisfactory explanation.'

'I'm afraid I am not so sure as you,' was my reply.

'Well, well,' said Mr Gilmore. 'We will wait for events.'

At dinner that evening — my last dinner at Limmeridge House — it was a hard battle to keep my self-control. I saw that it was not easy for Miss Fairlie, either. She gave me her hand as she had done in happier days, but her fingers trembled and her face was pale. Mr Gilmore kept the conversation going, and afterwards we went into the sitting room as usual. Miss Fairlie sat at the piano.

'Shall I play some of those pieces by Mozart that you like? Will you sit in your old chair near me?' she asked nervously.

'As it is my last night, I will,' I answered.

'I am very sorry you are going,' she said, almost in a whisper.

'I shall remember those kind words, Miss Fairlie, long after tomorrow has gone,' I replied.

'Don't speak about tomorrow.'

Then she played, and at last it was time to say goodnight.

The next morning I found Miss Halcombe and Miss Fairlie waiting for me downstairs. When I began to speak, Miss Fairlie turned and hurried from the room. I tried to control my voice, but could only say, 'Will you write to me, Miss Halcombe?'

She took both my hands in hers, and her face grew beautiful with the force of her generosity and pity. 'Of course I will, Walter. Goodbye — and God bless you!'

She left, and a few seconds later Miss Fairlie returned, holding something. It was her own sketch of the summer-house where we had first met. With tears in her eyes, she offered it to me,' to remind you', she whispered. My own tears fell as I kissed her hand, then I turned to go. She sank into a chair, her head dropped on her arms. At that moment I knew that Laura Fairlie loved me too. But it was over. We were separated.


crowd v. come together in a crowd 聚集;集中

invisible adj. not visible to the eye 看不见的

jealous adj. afraid, suspicious or resentful of rivalry in love or affection 嫉妒的

deliver v. distribute letters to the addressee

approach v. come near or nearer to a place 接近;靠近

examine v. look closely at 仔细地看

objection n. an expression or feeling of opposition or disapproval 反对;不同意

terror n. extreme fear 恐惧;恐怖

relax v. become less rigid or tense 放松

recognize v. identify a person an already known 认出来

relation n. a member of one's family 亲戚;亲属

motive n. factor or circumstance that induces a person to act on a particular way 动机

revenge n. retaliation for an offence or injury 复仇

abandon v. forsake or desert 抛弃

scream n. a loud high-pitched cry expressing fear, pain etc. 惊叫;尖叫

faint v. lose consciousness 失去知觉;晕倒

fade v. diminish 减退

sink v. settle down 坐下

3.匿名信件

那天上午,我一个人坐在房间里,思绪异常纷乱。我本来没有任何理由把珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士和那个让安妮·凯瑟里克害怕的人联系起来——但我的确把他们连在了一起。我很痛苦,但也强烈地感到将有看不见的可怕危险到来。这时,我听到有人敲门,来的是哈尔库姆小姐。

“哈特里特先生,很抱歉打扰你,可是只有你能给我出个主意了。刚收到一封给费尔利小姐的信——一封可怕的匿名信,警告她不要和珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士结婚。这封信让妹妹非常不安。我是应该查一下谁写的信,还是等明天费尔利先生的法律顾问吉尔摩先生来了问问他?”

她把信递给我,上面没有问候语,也没有签名。


你相信梦吗,费尔利小姐?昨天夜里我梦见你穿着白色婚纱站在教堂里,你是那么漂亮,那么纯洁。你身边站着一个右手有旧伤疤的男人,他面容英俊,但内心邪恶,他曾让许多人痛苦,也会让你痛苦。在梦里我为你哭泣。费尔利小姐,弄清这个人的过去再同他结婚。我之所以给你如此的忠告是因为你的母亲是我第一个朋友,也是最好的、唯一的朋友。


信的最后几个字让我想到了一件事,但我不敢说出来。是不是我脑子出了问题?为什么所有的事情都指向那个白衣女人?

“我认为这封信是一个女人写的,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“信里说的肯定是珀西瓦尔爵士,我记得他的那条疤。我该怎么办,哈特里特先生?这个谜一定得解开。吉尔摩先生要来谈费尔利小姐婚事的财务细节,珀西瓦尔爵士星期一来确定结婚的日期——不过费尔利小姐还不知道。”

结婚的日期!这些字眼使我又嫉妒又绝望。也许这封信里有些话是真的。如果我能找到写信人,也许会有办法证明珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士并不像他外表看起来那样正直。

“我觉得我们应该马上开始调查,”我说,“耽误的时间越长,越难找到线索。”

我们问了仆人,得知信是一个上了年纪的女人送来的,那女人朝村子的方向走去,很快就消失了。利默里奇庄园的人说记得见过那个女人,但没人知道她是谁,从哪里来。最后我建议去问一问学校的老师。快到学校门口的时候,我们听见老师正大声训斥一个学生说根本就没有什么鬼。这是个尴尬的时刻,但我们还是进去向老师提出了我们的问题。老师没能告诉我们任何信息。然而,在我们转身离开时,哈尔库姆小姐对站在角落的男孩说:

“你就是说有鬼的那个傻孩子?”

“是的,小姐。可我真的看到了!昨天在教堂的墓地里看见的。我真的看见了!那鬼是……是费尔利夫人!”

孩子的话显然令哈尔库姆小姐非常吃惊。老师马上走过来解释说这傻孩子说他昨天晚上路过教堂墓地的时候,看见(或是想象)一个穿白衣服的女人站在费尔利夫人的墓旁。我们得到的消息就是这些。

“你怎么看这件事?”走出学校,哈尔库姆小姐问我。

“那男孩可能看见了什么人,”我说,“但不是鬼。我想我们应该去看看那墓地。我怀疑,哈尔库姆小姐,写信的人和那个教堂墓地里假想出来的鬼可能是同一个人。”

她停住了脚步,脸色煞白,两只眼睛紧盯着我,“那人是谁?”

“安妮·凯瑟里克,”我回答,“那个白衣女人。”

“我不知道为什么,但是你的怀疑让我很害怕,”她缓慢地说,“我带你去墓地,然后我得回去看看劳拉。我们庄园再见。”

在教堂墓地里,我仔细察看了费尔利夫人的坟墓,发现墓碑有一部分被人擦洗过。也许那人会回来继续擦洗。我决定晚上再回来看看。回到庄园,我把想法告诉了哈尔库姆小姐,她看上去有些不安,但没有表示反对。于是,太阳刚开始落山,我就走路到了教堂墓地,找了个地方,开始等待。

大约半小时后,我听到了脚步声。接着,两个女人从我前面走过,向坟墓走去。其中一个穿着斗篷,兜帽遮住了她的脸。斗篷下面可以看到一点儿她的裙角——白色的裙子。另一个女人跟她说了些什么,然后转过墙角走了。穿斗篷的女人来到坟墓旁,向周围仔细看了看,然后掏出一块布,吻了一下白色的十字架,开始擦洗墓碑。

我小心翼翼地慢慢走近那女人,她看见我后,一下子跳起来,惊恐地望着我。

出现在我眼前的正是那白衣女人的脸。

“别害怕,”我说,“你肯定记得我吧?”她打量着我的脸。“是我指给你通往伦敦的路,你肯定没忘吧?”我接着说。

她认出我以后,长出了一口气,脸上的表情也放松了。在此之前,我曾看出她和费尔利小姐的相像之处,现在我看出费尔利小姐和她的相像之处。只不过费尔利小姐的精致美丽在这张疲惫的脸上看不出来。我不禁想到,假如不幸和痛苦降临到费尔利小姐头上,她们俩就真的一模一样了。这是个可怕的想法。

我开始和缓地向她提问。我告诉她我知道她是从精神病院逃出来的,也很高兴帮助了她。不过,那天晚上她找到伦敦的朋友了吗?

“噢,找到了。就是克莱门茨太太。她现在跟我在一起。她是我们在汉普郡的邻居,我小的时候就是她照顾我。她一直是我的朋友。”

“你没有父母照顾你吗?”

“我从没见过父亲——也从没听母亲说起过他。我同母亲关系不好。我宁愿同克莱门茨太太在一起。她心地善良,就像你一样。”

我了解到她和克莱门茨太太的亲戚住在离村子3英里远的农场里,但是我还想问一些更尖锐的问题。是谁把她关进了精神病院?是对她“不好”的母亲吗?她为什么要给费尔利小姐写信指责珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士?是复仇吗?珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士做了什么对不起她的事呢?

她特别容易受惊吓,容易思绪紊乱,只能一次考虑一个问题。我尽量不惊吓她。我问她是不是有个男人做了对不起她的事,而后抛弃了她?她单纯、疑惑的表情告诉我答案是否定的。

我们交谈的过程中,她一直在用布擦拭墓碑。

“费尔利夫人是我最好的朋友,”她小声说,“她女儿……”她抬头看看我,然后又转过头去,像是由于羞愧而不愿见人,“费尔利小姐好吗?快乐吗?”她急切地轻声问。

我决定给她一个突然袭击,看是否可以让她说出真相。“她今天早上收到你的信以后很不好,很不快乐。是你写的信,对吗?你不该写那样的信。”

她的脸变得像死人一般苍白。她低下头,吻了吻墓碑,“噢,费尔利夫人!费尔利夫人!告诉我怎么才能救你的女儿。告诉我该怎么做。”

“你在信里没有提到任何人的名字,但是费尔利小姐明白你说的那个人是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士——”

我说出这个名字的时候,她害怕得惊叫起来,那叫声让我全身发冷。她的脸上充满了恐惧和仇恨,这表情说明了一切。毫无疑问,把她关进精神病院的人就是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士。

听到惊叫声,克莱门茨太太跑过来,气愤地看了看我,说:“怎么啦,亲爱的?他对你怎么啦?”

“没事,”可怜的姑娘说,“他以前帮过我,他帮我……”下面的话她跟克莱门茨太太耳语着。

然后,克莱门茨太太挽着安妮·凯瑟里克,带她走了。我望着她们远去的背影,心中充满了对那可怜姑娘的同情,她的脸色是那样苍白,那样惊恐。

半小时后,我回到了庄园。我把事情经过告诉哈尔库姆小姐后,她显得非常担心。

“我敢肯定是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士把安妮·凯瑟里克关进精神病院的,”我说,“可是他为什么这样做呢?他们之间是什么关系呢?”

“我们必须搞清楚,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“明天我们去农场,我要亲自同安妮·凯瑟里克谈谈。”

*  *  *

第二天我要做的第一件事是请求费尔利先生允许我提前一个月结束在这里的工作。因为他的精神非常不好,我不能同他直接谈,只能写一封短信,说明我收到一些意外的消息,必须回伦敦去。很快我收到一封很不客气的回信,通知我可以离开。要是过去,这样的信会让我非常沮丧,可是现在我不在乎了。

随后,哈尔库姆小姐和我步行到农场去。她进去的时候我在附近等她。令我吃惊的是没几分钟她就出来了。

“是不是安妮·凯瑟里克拒绝见你?”我问。

“安妮·凯瑟里克已经走了,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“今天早上,她同克莱门茨太太一起走的。农场主的妻子托德太太不清楚她们为什么要走,也不知道她们到哪里去了。她只告诉我几天前安妮·凯瑟里克看了当地报纸上的什么消息后,就一直心神不安。我看了那份报纸,上面提到了劳拉将要举行的婚礼。托德太太说安妮·凯瑟里克昨晚晕倒了,原因很明显,我们庄园一个女仆带来的消息吓到了她,那个女仆昨晚放假来农场做客。”

我们马上回到庄园向那个女仆了解情况。哈尔库姆小姐问她,在农场的时候是不是提到了珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士的名字。“对,提到了,”女仆回答,“我说他星期一要来庄园。”

这个时候,一辆马车停在了门口,这家的老朋友和法律顾问吉尔摩先生从车里走下来。他是一位慈眉善目、穿着考究的老人。哈尔库姆小姐为我做了引见,然后就和吉尔摩先生去谈有关家里的事务了。我走进了外面的花园。我在利默里奇庄园的日子很快就要结束了,我想同这里的一切道个别。在这个花园里,我多少次和费尔利小姐散步,这是我享受幸福,享受爱情的地方。秋日的天灰蒙蒙的,空气很潮湿,那些甜美的记忆已经开始褪色。

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我回到屋里以后,见到了吉尔摩先生。

“呵,哈特里特先生,”他对我说,“哈尔库姆小姐已经跟我说了费尔利小姐收到那封奇怪来信的事,你帮了很大的忙。我想告诉你,对这件事的调查我很有把握,我已经给珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士在伦敦的律师写了信,我相信我们会得到一个满意的答复的。”

“我倒不像你那么有把握。”我说。

“好吧,好吧,”吉尔摩先生说,“那我们就等等结果吧。”

那天吃晚饭的时候——我在利默里奇庄园的最后一次晚饭——我努力控制自己的情感。我看得出费尔利小姐也非常不自在。像以前快乐的日子里一样,她把手伸给我,但她的手指在颤抖,脸上没有一点血色。只有吉尔摩先生滔滔不绝地说这说那,之后大家像往常一样来到客厅。费尔利小姐坐到了钢琴旁。

“我弹几首你喜欢的莫扎特的曲子好吗?你还坐我旁边的椅子,好吗?”她神色不安地问我。

“这是我在这里的最后一个晚上了,我照你说的做。”我对她说。

“你要走了,我很难过。”她的声音低得几乎听不到。

“我会记住你的话,费尔利小姐,明天以后我会一直记着的。”我说。

“不要提明天。”

接下来她开始弹钢琴,最后到说晚安的时候了。

转天早晨,我看到哈尔库姆小姐和费尔利小姐在楼下等我。我刚要开口说话,费尔利小姐转身跑出了房间。我尽量控制着自己的声音,但只说了一句:“给我写信好吗,哈尔库姆小姐?”

她紧紧握住我的双手,她的慷慨和同情让她显得漂亮起来。“我当然会的,沃尔特。再见——愿上帝保佑你!”

她离开片刻后,费尔利小姐回来了,手里还拿着什么东西。那是她自己画的我们初次相见的凉亭。她眼里噙着泪水,把画递给我。“留个纪念吧。”她轻声说。我吻着她的手,眼泪禁不住流了下来。我转身离去。她一下子跌坐到椅子上,头垂到了手臂上。那一刻,我明白劳拉·费尔利也在爱着我。但是,一切都结束了,我们被分开了。

匿名信件

PART ONE
THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
第一部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

1
A meeting by moonlight

It was the last day of July. The long hot summer was coming to an end, and I was feeling ill and depressed. I was also short of money, so I had little chance of escaping from the dusty London streets, and would have to spend the autumn economically between my rooms in the city and my mother's house.

My mother and my sister, Sarah, lived in a cottage in Hampstead, in the northern suburbs, and I usually went to see them twice a week. This evening I arrived at the gate of the cottage just as it was starting to get dark. I had hardly rung the bell before the door was opened violently, and my Italian friend, Professor Pesca, rushed out to greet me.

Pesca was a language teacher who had left Italy for political reasons and had made his home in England. He was a strange, excitable little man, who was always trying to be more English than the English. I had met him from time to time when he was teaching in the same houses as I was, and then one day I met him by chance in Brighton. We agreed to go for a swim together in the sea. He was very enthusiastic and it never for a moment occurred to me that he did not know how to swim! Fortunately, when he suddenly sank to the bottom, I was able to dive down and save him. From that day on he was my grateful friend, and that evening he showed his gratitude to me in a way that changed my whole life.

'Now, my good friends,' he said, when we were all in my mother's sitting-room. 'I have some wonderful news for you. I have been asked by my employer to recommend a drawing teacher for a post with a rich family in the north of England. And who do you think I have recommended? The best drawing teacher in the world — Mr Walter Hartright!'

'My dear Pesca! How good you are to Walter!' exclaimed my mother. 'How kind, how generous you are!'

As for myself, although I was certainly grateful for his kindness, I still felt strangely depressed. I thanked him warmly, however, and asked to see the conditions. The note he gave me said that a qualified drawing teacher was wanted by Mr Frederick Fairlie of Limmeridge House, Cumberland, to teach his two young nieces for a period of at least four months. The teacher was to live at Limmeridge House as a gentleman and receive four pounds a week. Letters to show he was of good character would be required.

The position was certainly an attractive one, and I could not understand why I felt so little enthusiasm for it. However, since my mother and sister thought it was a great opportunity, and I had no wish to hurt Pesca's feelings, I agreed to apply for the job.

The next morning I sent my letters of recommendation to the Professor's employer, and four days later I heard that Mr Fairlie accepted my services and requested me to start for Cumberland immediately. I arranged to leave the next day, and in the evening I walked to Hampstead to say goodbye to my mother and Sarah.

When I left them at midnight, a full moon was shining in a dark blue, starless sky, and the air was soft and warm. I decided to take the long route home, and walk across Hampstead Heath before joining the road into the centre of the city. After a while I came to a crossroads and turned onto the London road. I was lost in my own thoughts, wondering about the two young ladies in Cumberland, when suddenly, my heart seemed to stop beating. A hand had touched my shoulder from behind.

I turned at once, my hand tightening on my walking stick.

There, as if it had dropped from the sky, stood the figure of a woman, dressed from head to foot in white clothes. I was too surprised to speak.

'Is that the road into London?' she said.

I looked at her carefully. It was then nearly one o'clock. All I could see in the moonlight was a young colourless face, large sad eyes, and light brown hair. Her manner was quiet and self-controlled. What sort of woman she was, and why she was out so late alone, I could not guess. But there was nothing evil about her — indeed, a kind of sad innocence seemed to come from her.

'Did you hear me?' she said, quietly and rapidly.

'Yes,' I replied, 'that's the road. Please excuse me — I was rather surprised by your sudden appearance.'

'You don't suspect me of doing anything wrong, do you?'

'No, no, seeing you so suddenly gave me a shock, that's all.'

'I heard you coming,' she said, 'and hid behind those trees to see what sort of man you were, before I risked speaking. May I trust you?' Her eyes searched my face, anxiously.

Her loneliness and helplessness were so obvious that I felt great sympathy for her. 'Tell me how I can help you,' I said, 'and if I can, I will.'

'Oh, thank you, thank you. You are very kind.' Her voice trembled a little as she spoke. 'I don't know London at all. Can I get a cab or a carriage at this time of night? Could you show me where to get one, and will you promise not to interfere with me? I have a friend in London who will be glad to receive me. I want nothing else — will you promise?'

She looked nervously up and down the road, then back at me.

How could I refuse? Her fear and confusion were painful to see.

'Will you promise?' she repeated.

'Yes.'

We set off together towards the centre of London. It was like a dream — walking along that familiar road, with so strange and so mysterious a companion at my side.

'Do you know any men of the rank of Baronet in London?' she asked suddenly.

There was a note of suspicion in the strange question, and when I said I knew no Baronets, she seemed relieved. I questioned her further, and she murmured that she had been cruelly used by a Baronet she would not name. She told me she came from Hampshire and asked if I lived in London. I explained that I did, but that I was leaving for Cumberland the next day.

'Cumberland!' she repeated softly. 'Ah! I wish I was going there too. I was once happy in Cumberland, in Limmeridge village. I'd like to see Limmeridge House again.'

Limmeridge House! I stopped, amazed.

'What's wrong?' she asked anxiously. 'Did you hear anybody calling after us?'

'No, no. It's just that I heard the name of Limmeridge House very recently. Do you know somebody there?'

'I did once,' she said. 'But Mrs Fairlie is dead; and her husband is dead; and their little girl may be married and gone away...'

Perhaps she would have told me more, but just at that moment we saw a cab. I stopped it, and she quickly got in.

'Please,' I said, 'let me see you safely to your friend's house.'

'No, no,' she cried. 'I'm quite safe, and you must let me go. Remember your promise! But thank you — oh! thank you.'

She caught my hand in hers, kissed it, and pushed it away. The cab disappeared into the black shadows on the road — and the woman in white had gone.

Ten minutes later I was still on the same road, thinking uneasily about the whole adventure, when I heard wheels behind me. An open carriage with two men in it passed me, then stopped when they saw a policeman walking further down the street.

'Officer!' cried one of the men. 'Have you seen a woman pass this way? A woman in white clothes?'

'No, sir. Why? What has she done?'

'Done! She has escaped from my asylum.'

An asylum! But the woman had not seemed mad to me. Nervous, and a little strange, perhaps, but not mad. What had I done? Had I helped a woman wrongly imprisoned to escape? Or had I failed to protect a sick person who might come to harm? These disturbing thoughts kept me awake all night after I had got back to my rooms, until at last it was time to leave London and set out for Cumberland.

*  *  *

My travelling instructions directed me to Carlisle and then to change trains for Limmeridge. However, because of a long delay I missed my connection and did not get to Limmeridge till past ten. A servant in rather a bad temper was waiting for me at the station with a carriage and when I arrived at Limmeridge House everyone had gone to bed. I was shown to my room and when I at last put out the candle, I thought to myself, 'What shall I see in my dreams tonight? The woman in white? Or the unknown inhabitants of this Cumberland house?'


depressed adj. dispirited or miserable 无精打采的

economically adv. sparing in the use of resources 节俭地

violently adv. using aggressive physical force 用力地

gratitude n. a feeling of being grateful to someone because they have given you something or done something for you 感激之情;知恩图报之心

recommend v. suggest as fit for some purpose or use 推荐

exclaim v. cry out suddenly esp. in anger, surprise, pain etc. (出于气愤、惊讶、痛苦等)大喊;惊叫

character n. the collective qualities that distinguish a person or thing 特点;品行

apply for make a formal request for something to be done, given etc. 申请

be lost in be engrossed in 全神贯注于……

tighten v. make or become tight or tighter 握紧;攥紧

colourless adj. without colour 没有颜色的

suspect v. be inclined to accuse mentally 怀疑

shock n. a sudden disturbing effect 震惊;吃惊

companion n. a person who accompanies another 伙伴

baronet n. member of lowest British hereditary titled order 准男爵

relieved adj. freed from anxiety or distress 松了一口气

murmur v. utter in a low voice 低声说

adventure n. an unusual and exciting experience 不同寻常又令人兴奋的经历

asylum n. institution offering shelter and support to the mentally ill 精神病院

imprison v. put into prison 囚禁

inhabitant n. one who lives in a place 居住者

1.月下邂逅

那是7月的最后一天。漫长、炎热的夏季已经接近尾声,但我觉得身体不太舒服,心情也有些压抑。我没什么钱,不大可能离开尘土飞扬的伦敦,只得在伦敦的住处和母亲的家中将就这个秋天了。

母亲和妹妹萨拉住在伦敦北郊汉普斯特德的一所小房子里,我每星期会去看她们两次。今天我到那里的时候,天已经快黑了。刚一按门铃,我的意大利朋友,佩斯卡教授就用力打开了门,箭步冲出来迎接我。

佩斯卡由于政治原因从意大利来到英国,在这里做语言教师,安顿了下来。他个头不高,性格古怪而天真,极力表现出比英国人还地道的英国做派。我曾经和他在几个家庭里同为家庭教师,所以经常见面。有一天,我在布赖顿碰到他,两人说好一同到海滨游泳。他当时非常兴奋,我根本没想到他竟然不会游泳!幸好他突然沉下去的时候,我潜进水里把他救了上来。从那以后,他对我感激不尽,我们成了朋友,而这天晚上他的感恩之举改变了我的一生。

大家齐聚客厅时,他说:“嘿,朋友们,我有一个好消息要告诉你们。我的东家让我为英格兰北部一个富有的人家推荐一名绘画教师。你们猜我推荐了谁?我推荐的是世界上最好的绘画教师——沃尔特·哈特里特先生!”

“亲爱的佩斯卡,你对沃尔特真是太好了!”母亲说道。“你真是好心又慷慨!”

我本人也很感激他的好意,但是总觉得有一种莫名的不安。不过我还是热情地跟他道谢,向他打听一些具体情况。他给我的条子上说坎伯兰郡利默里奇庄园的弗雷德里克·费尔利先生要聘请一位优秀的绘画教师,教他的两个侄女画画,聘期至少四个月。受聘教师将住在利默里奇庄园,薪水是一星期4英镑。应聘教师必须出具品行良好的证明信。

这的确是一份令人心动的工作,但不知为什么我就是兴奋不起来。不管怎样,既然母亲和妹妹都认为这是个好机会,我也不愿伤害佩斯卡的感情,于是我答应应聘。

转天早晨,我把推荐信寄给佩斯卡的雇主,四天之后传来消息说,费尔利先生接受了我的应聘,要我立即动身前往坎伯兰郡。我做好了第二天动身的准备,晚上步行到汉普斯特德向母亲和妹妹道别。

离开她们已是子夜时分,深蓝的天空满月高悬,看不见一颗星星,空气温暖宜人。我决定走那条稍远一点儿的路回家,先穿过汉普斯特德荒地,再走通往市中心的那条路。不一会儿,我来到十字路口,踏上了通向伦敦的大路。我满脑子在想着坎伯兰郡两位小姐的事,突然一只手从后面拍了拍我的肩膀,吓得我心跳都快停止了。

我猛地转过身,攥紧了手杖。

我眼前站着一个白衣女人,仿佛从天而降。我惊得一句话也说不出来。

“那条路是去伦敦的吗?”那女人开口问道。

我仔细打量着她。这时已将近凌晨1点了。借着月光我只能看出一张年轻却没有血色的脸,一对哀伤的大眼睛和淡棕色的头发。她看上去镇定自若。我猜不出她是个什么样的女人,这么晚了为什么孤身一人在外面。可是她看上去没有恶意,实际上还流露出一丝哀伤和纯真。

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“你听见我说话了吗?”她很快地轻声说。

“是的,”我赶忙回答,“是那条路。请原谅,你出现得太突然,吓了我一跳。”

“你不会怀疑我在做什么坏事吧?”

“不,不是。只不过突然看到你,吓了一跳。”

“我听到你走过来,”她说,“就先躲在树后看你是什么样的人,然后才敢同你说话的。我能信赖你吗?”她不安地看着我的脸。

她看起来实在是非常孤独和无助,这大大地激起了我的同情。“说吧,我能为你做什么,”我说,“只要我能做的,一定帮忙。”

“哦,谢谢,谢谢。你真是个好人。”她的声音有些颤抖,“我对伦敦一无所知,这时候还有出租马车吗?你能告诉我哪里能找辆车吗?你能保证不要多问吗?我在伦敦有朋友,她会帮我的,就是这样——你能保证吗?”

她神色紧张地朝大路张望,然后又回头看我。

我怎么能够拒绝呢?她紧张而慌乱的样子令人不安。

“你能保证吗?”她再一次问。

“我保证。”

我们一起朝伦敦市中心走去。这真像是一场梦——走在熟悉的路上,身旁多了一位陌生、神秘的同路人。

“你认识伦敦有准男爵爵位的人吗?”她突然问我。

从这个奇怪的问题可以看出她对我还是有所怀疑,当我告诉她我一个准男爵也不认识时,她似乎才松了一口气。我进一步追问,她低声告诉我一个准男爵害过她,她不愿说出他的名字。她说她从汉普郡来,问我是否住在伦敦。我告诉她我是住在伦敦,但天一亮就要去坎伯兰郡了。

“坎伯兰郡!”她轻声重复着,“啊,我要是也能去那儿就好了。我曾在坎伯兰郡的利默里奇村度过一段快乐的时光,真想再看一看利默里奇庄园。”

利默里奇庄园!我停住脚步,感到很惊讶。

“怎么啦?”她急切地问,“你听到我们后面有人在喊吗?”

“不,不是。因为我最近听说过利默里奇庄园,你认识那里的什么人吗?”

“以前认识,”她回答,“不过费尔利夫人已经死了,她丈夫也死了,他们的小女儿可能已经结婚离开了那里。”

若不是看见一辆出租马车,她也许会告诉我更多的事情。我叫住马车,她很快上了车。

我说:“还是让我把你平平安安地送到朋友家吧。”

“不,不,”她大声说,“我现在很安全,你就让我自己走吧。你答应过我的!谢谢你,谢谢。”

她抓住我的手,吻了一下,然后推开。马车的影子消失在夜幕中的大路上——白衣女人也不见了。

十分钟后,我还走在同一条路上,回想着刚才发生的怪事,忽然身后传来车轮的声音。两个人坐着敞篷马车从我身边经过,他们看见路上有个警察在巡逻,就停下车来。

“警官!”一个人说,“你看没看见一个女人从这条路上走过,一个穿白衣服的女人?”

“没有,先生。怎么啦?她做了什么?”

“做了什么!她从精神病院跑出来了。”

精神病院!可是我不觉得那个女人是疯子。她神色紧张,有点儿怪,但并不疯。我究竟做了什么?是帮助一个被无端关进精神病院的女人逃跑了?还是没有看管好一个可能伤害别人的病人?这些问题让我回到家后心神不定,难以入睡,直到该起床动身前往坎伯兰郡了,还是没有睡着。

*  *  *

我的行程安排是先到卡莱尔,然后换乘开往利默里奇的火车,可是由于去卡莱尔的车晚点了许多,我没有赶上转乘的车,直到10点多才到利默里奇。一个脾气很差的仆人赶了一辆马车在车站等我,到利默里奇庄园的时候,那儿的人都已经睡了。我被带到了房间,最后吹熄蜡烛睡觉的时候,我想:“今晚我会梦见谁呢?那个白衣女人?还是坎伯兰郡这个庄园里的陌生人?”

2
Life at Limmeridge House

When I got up the next morning, I was greeted by bright sunlight and a view of blue sea through the window. The future suddenly seemed full of promise. I found my way down to the breakfast-room and there, looking out of a window with her back turned to me, was a young woman with a perfect figure. But when she turned and walked towards me, I saw to my surprise that her face was ugly. Hair grew on her upper lip, and her mouth was large and firm. It was almost a man's face, but the friendly smile she gave me softened it and made her look more womanly. She welcomed me in a pleasant, educated voice and introduced herself as Marian Halcombe, Miss Fairlie's half-sister.

'My mother was twice married,' she explained, in her easy, friendly manner. 'The first time to Mr Halcombe, my father, and the second time to Mr Fairlie, my half-sister's father. My father was a poor man, and Miss Fairlie's father was a rich man. I've got nothing, and she has a fortune. I'm dark and ugly, and she's fair and pretty.' She said all this quite happily. 'My sister and I are very fond of each other, so you must please both of us, Mr Hartright, or please neither of us.'

She then told me that Miss Fairlie had a headache that morning and was being looked after by Mrs Vesey, an elderly lady who had once been Miss Fairlie's governess.

'So we shall be alone at breakfast, Mr Hartright,' she said. 'As for Mr Fairlie, your employer, you will doubtless meet him later. He is Miss Fairlie's uncle, a single man, who became Miss Fairlie's guardian when her parents died. He suffers from some mysterious illness of the nerves, and never leaves his rooms.'

While we ate breakfast, she described the quiet, regular life that she and her sister led. 'Do you think you will get used to it?' she said. 'Or will you be restless, and wish for some adventure?'

Hearing the word 'adventure' reminded me of my meeting with the woman in white, and her reference to Mrs Fairlie. I told Miss Halcombe all about my adventure, and she showed an eager interest, especially in the mention of her mother.

'But you didn't find out the woman's name?' she said.

'I'm afraid not. Only that she came from Hampshire.'

'Well, I shall spend the morning,' said Miss Halcombe, 'looking through my mother's letters. I'm sure I will find some clues there to explain this mystery. Lunch is at two o'clock, Mr Hartright, and I shall introduce you to my sister then.'

After breakfast Mr Fairlie's personal servant, Louis, came to tell me that Mr Fairlie would like to see me. I followed the servant upstairs and was shown into a large room full of art treasures. There, in an armchair, sat a small, pale, delicate-looking man of about fifty. Despite his fine clothes and the valuable rings on his soft white fingers, there was something very unattractive about him.

'So glad to have you here, Mr Hartright,' he said in a high, complaining voice. 'Please sit down, but don't move the chair. In my state of nerves any movement is painful to me. May I ask if you have found everything satisfactory here at Limmeridge?'

When I began to reply, he at once raised his hand to stop me.

'Please excuse me. But could you speak more softly? I simply cannot bear loud voices, or indeed, any kind of loud sound.'

The interview did not last long as Mr Fairlie quickly lost interest in it. He informed me that the ladies would make all the arrangements for their drawing lessons.

'I suffer so much from my nerves, Mr Hartright,' he said. 'Do you mind ringing the bell for Louis? Thank you. Good morning!'

With great relief I left the room, and spent the rest of the morning looking forward to lunchtime, when I would be introduced to Miss Fairlie.

*  *  *

At two o'clock I entered the dining room and found Miss Halcombe seated at the table with a rather fat lady who smiled all the time. This, I discovered, was Mrs Vesey. We started eating and before long we had finished lunch, with still no sign of Miss Fairlie. Miss Halcombe noticed my frequent glances at the door.

'I understand you, Mr Hartright,' she said. 'You are wondering about your other student. Well, she has got over her headache, but did not want any lunch. If you will follow me, I think I can find her somewhere in the garden.'

We walked out together along a path through the garden, until we came to a pretty summer-house. Inside I could see a young lady standing near a table, looking out at the view and turning the pages of a little drawing book. This was Miss Laura Fairlie.

How can I describe her? How can I separate this moment from all that has happened since then? In a drawing I later made of her she appears as a light, youthful figure wearing a simple white and blue striped dress and a summer hat. Her hair is light brown, almost gold, and she has eyes that are clear and blue, with a look of truth in them. They give her whole face such a charm that it is difficult to notice each individual feature: the delicate, though not perfectly straight, nose; the sweet, sensitive mouth. The life and beauty of her face lies in her eyes.

Such was my impression, but at the same time I felt there was something about her that I could not explain — something that I ought to remember, but could not. In fact, I was thinking about this so much that I could hardly answer when she greeted me.

Miss Halcombe, believing I was shy, quickly said, 'Look at your perfect student,' and she pointed at the sketches. 'She has already started work before your lessons have begun. You must show them to Mr Hartright, Laura, when we go for a drive.'

Miss Fairlie laughed with bright good humour.

'I hope he will give his true opinion of them and not just say something to please me,' she said.

'May I enquire why you say that?' I asked.

'Because I shall believe all that you tell me,' she answered simply.

In those few words she gave me the key to her own trusting, truthful character.

Later we went for our promised drive, but I must confess that I was far more interested in Miss Fairlie's conversation than her sketches. I soon realized I was behaving more like a guest than a drawing teacher and when I was on my own again I felt uneasy and dissatisfied with myself.

At dinner that evening these feelings soon disappeared, and when the meal was over, we went into a large sitting room with glass doors leading into the garden. Mrs Vesey fell asleep in an armchair and Miss Halcombe sat near a window to look through her mother's letters. At my request Miss Fairlie played the piano.

How will I ever forget that peaceful picture? The flowers outside, the music of Mozart, Miss Halcombe reading the letters in the half-light, the delicate outline of Miss Fairlie's face against the dark wall. It was an evening of sights and sounds to remember for ever.

Later, when Miss Fairlie had finished playing and had wandered out into the moonlit garden, Miss Halcombe called me.

'Mr Hartright, will you come here for a minute?'

I went over and she showed me a letter.

'It's from my mother to her second husband twelve years ago. She mentions a lady from Hampshire called Mrs Catherick, who had come to look after her sick sister living in the village. It seems she brought her only child with her, a little girl called Anne, who was about a year older than Laura. I was at a school in Paris at the time. My mother, who took a great interest in the village school, says the little girl was slow in learning so she gave her lessons here at the house. She also gave her some of Laura's white dresses and white hats, saying she looked better in white than any other colour. She says that little Anne Catherick was so grateful, and loved her so much, that one day she kissed her hand and said, "I'll always wear white as long as I live. It will help me to remember you."'

Miss Halcombe stopped and looked at me.

'Did the woman you met that night seem young enough to be twenty-two or twenty-three?'

'Yes, Miss Halcombe, as young as that.'

'And was she dressed from head to foot, all in white?'

'All in white.'

From where I sat, I could see Miss Fairlie walking in the garden, and the whiteness of her dress in the moonlight suddenly made my heart beat faster.

'Now listen to what my mother says at the end of the letter,' Miss Halcombe continued. 'It will surprise you. She says that perhaps the real reason for her liking little Anne Catherick so much was that she looked exactly like —'

Before she could finish, I jumped up. Outside stood Miss Fairlie, a white figure alone in the moonlight. And suddenly I realized what it was that I had been unable to remember — it was the extraordinary likeness between Miss Laura Fairlie and the runaway from the asylum, the woman in white.

'You see it!' said Miss Halcombe. 'Just as my mother saw the likeness between them years ago.'

'Yes,' I replied. 'But very unwillingly. To connect that lonely, friendless woman, even by an accidental likeness, to Miss Fairlie disturbs me very much. I don't like to think of it. Please call her in from that horrible moonlight!'

'We won't say anything about this likeness to Laura,' she said. 'It will be a secret between you and me.' Then she called Miss Fairlie in, asking her to play the piano again; and so my first, eventful day at Limmeridge House came to an end.

*  *  *

The days passed, the weeks passed, and summer changed into a golden autumn. A peaceful, happy time, but at last, I had to confess to myself my real feelings for Miss Fairlie.

I loved her.

Every day I was near her in that dangerous closeness which exists between teacher and student. Often, as we bent over her sketch-book, our hands and faces almost touched. I breathed the perfume of her hair. I should have put a professional distance between myself and her, as I had always done with my students in the past. But I did not, and it was soon too late.

By the third month of my stay in Cumberland, I was lost in dreams of love and blind to the dangers ahead of me. Then the first warning finally came — from her. In the space of one night, she changed towards me. There was a sudden nervous distance, and a kind of sadness, in her attitude. The pain I felt at that moment is beyond description. But I knew then that she had changed because she had suddenly discovered not only my feelings, but her own as well. This change was also reflected in Miss Halcombe, who said nothing unusual to me, but who had developed a new habit of always watching me. This new and awful situation continued for some time until, on a Thursday, near the end of the third month, I was at last rescued by the sensible and courageous Miss Halcombe.

'Have you got a moment for me?' she asked after breakfast. 'Shall we go into the garden?'

We walked to the summer-house and went inside. Miss Halcombe turned to me. 'Mr Hartright, what I have to say to you I can say here. Now, I know that you are a good man who always acts correctly. Your story about that unhappy woman in London proves that. As your friend, I must tell you that I have discovered your feelings for my sister, Laura. Although you have done nothing wrong, except show weakness, I must tell you to leave Limmeridge House before any harm is done. And there is something else I must tell you, which will also give you pain. Will you shake hands with your friend, Marian Halcombe, first?'

She spoke with such kindness that I shook her hand.

'You must leave because Laura Fairlie is to be married.'

The last word went like a bullet to my heart. I turned white, I felt cold. With one word all my hopes disappeared.

'You must put an end to your feelings, here, where you first met her. I will hide nothing from you. She is not marrying for love, but because of a promise she made to her father just before he died. The man she is to marry arrives here next Monday.'

'Let me go today,' I said bitterly. 'The sooner the better.'

'No, not today. That would look strange. Wait till tomorrow, after the post has arrived. Say to Mr Fairlie that you have received bad news and must return to London.'

'I will follow your advice, Miss Halcombe,' I said sadly. 'But may I ask who the gentleman engaged to Miss Fairlie is?'

'A rich man from Hampshire.'

Hampshire! Again a connection with Anne Catherick!

'And his name?' I asked, as calmly as I could.

'Sir Percival Glyde.'

Sir! I remembered Anne Catherick's suspicious question about Baronets, and my voice shook a little as I asked, 'Is he a Baronet?'

She paused for a moment, then answered, 'Yes, a Baronet.'


figure n. bodily shape 身材

womanly adj. having or showing qualities associated with women 具有或表现出女子气质的

fortune n. great wealth; a large sum of money 大笔财富

guardian n. a person having legal custody of another person when that person is incapable of managing his or her own affairs 监护人

reference n. the act of referring to a person etc. for information 提及;提到

delicate adj. easily made ill 娇弱的

bear v. tolerate; put up with 忍受

good morning courteous farewell 早上(上午)礼貌的告别方式

get over recover from an illness 恢复;痊愈

youthful adj. having freshness or vigour of youth 年轻的

enquire v. ask a question

confess v. admit 承认

uneasy adj. disturbed or uncomfortable in mind or body 不自在的;不舒服的

peaceful adj. characterized by peace, tranquil 平静的

extraordinary adj. unusual or remarkable 不同寻常的

runaway n. a person who flees from enemy, danger or a master 逃跑者

eventful adj. marked by noteworthy events 发生事情比较多的

professional adj. connected with a profession 职业的

blind adj. without foresight, intellectual perception or adequate information 不知道的;不了解的

sensible adj. reasonable, judicious 明智的;理智的

engaged adj. under a promise to marry 订婚

pause v. to cease or suspend an action temporarily 停顿

2.在利默里奇庄园的日子

第二天起床,迎接我的是灿烂的阳光和窗外湛蓝的大海。未来突然好像一片光明。我下楼来到早餐室,一位身材优美的年轻女士正背对我望着窗外。当她转身向我走来时,我吃惊地发现她长得很丑。她的上唇上长着胡须,嘴唇又大又厚。尽管脸长得像个男人,但是友好的微笑使她看上去有了一些女人味儿。她同我打招呼,声音悦耳,听起来很有教养。她告诉我她叫玛丽安·哈尔库姆,费尔利小姐同母异父的姐姐。

“我母亲结过两次婚,”她以一种平和友善的语调对我说,“第一次嫁给哈尔库姆先生,我父亲,第二次嫁给费尔利先生,费尔利小姐的父亲。我父亲一贫如洗,费尔利小姐的父亲却是个有钱人。我本人一无所有,但她很富有。我长得又黑又丑,她又白又漂亮。”她兴致勃勃地说着这一切,“我们姐妹俩非常要好,先生,所以你必须要讨好我们俩,要不就谁也别讨好。”

她又告诉我费尔利小姐早上头疼,维西夫人正在照顾她,维西夫人原来是费尔利小姐的家庭教师。

“今天早饭就我们两个了,哈特里特先生,”她说,“至于费尔利先生,你的雇主,你肯定得过些时候才能见到他了,他是费尔利小姐的叔叔,单身一人,费尔利小姐父母死后,他就成了她的监护人。他患有一种古怪的神经疾病,从不离开他的房间半步。”

吃早饭的时候,她对我讲了她们姐妹俩平静而规律的生活。“你觉得你能适应这样的生活吗?”她问,“你是否会烦躁不安,希望有些新奇的事情发生?”

“新奇”这个词让我想起遇到白衣女人的事,她曾经提到过费尔利夫人。当我把我的奇异经历告诉哈尔库姆小姐时,她对这件事表现出浓厚的兴趣,特别对提到她的母亲这个细节。

“你不知道那女人叫什么名字吗?”

“不知道。只知道她从汉普郡来。”

“那好吧,我今天早上,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“就翻一翻母亲的信件。我想一定会从中找出点线索解开这个谜。午饭时间是两点,哈特里特先生,到时我会把你介绍给我妹妹。”

早饭后,费尔利先生的贴身仆人路易斯过来告诉我费尔利先生要见我。我跟他上了楼,被带到一个很大的房间,里面有许多艺术珍品。扶手椅上坐着一个苍白羸弱的小个子男人,大概五十岁上下。尽管他穿着考究,白皙柔软的手指上带着贵重的戒指,但是他身上有一种让人非常不喜欢的东西。

“非常高兴你能来这里工作,哈特里特先生,”他的声音尖锐刺耳,还带着一丝怨气,“请坐,但请不要动椅子。任何动静都会刺激我的神经,让我难受。你在利默里奇感到还满意吗?”

我刚要说话,他又马上举手示意我先别说。

“请原谅,你说话声音轻点吗?我受不了大声说话,任何太响的声音我都受不了。”

我们的面谈没有持续很长时间,因为费尔利先生很快就没了兴趣。他告诉我小姐们会安排所有关于绘画课的事宜。

“我的神经很差,哈特里特先生,你能帮我摇铃叫一下路易斯吗?谢谢。再见。”

离开他的房间,我长出了一口气。上午剩下的时间我一直在等着吃午饭,到时就可以见到费尔利小姐了。

*  *  *

两点钟,我来到餐厅,看到哈尔库姆小姐同一位体态丰满的女士坐在桌旁,那位女士一直面带微笑。她就是维西夫人。我们开始一起吃饭,不一会儿就吃完了,但一直没见到费尔利小姐的影子。哈尔库姆小姐注意到我不断地朝门口张望。

“我知道你在想什么,哈特里特先生,”她说,“你一定在想你的另一个学生。她头痛已经好了,但不想吃东西。如果你跟我来,我可以在花园里找到她。”

我们一起沿着花园的小路来到一个漂亮的凉亭前。我看到里面有一位小姐站在一张桌子旁,望着外面的风景,手中翻动着一本小画册。这就是劳拉·费尔利小姐。

我该怎样描述她呢?我怎样才能把此时此刻同后来发生的一切分开呢?在我后来画的一张她的肖像里,她年轻活泼,身穿式样简单的蓝白条纹连衣裙,头戴遮阳帽。她的头发是淡棕色,接近金色。她有一双清澈诚实的蓝眼睛,使她魅力四射,让你不再注意她脸上的其他细节:小巧但不很直的鼻子,还有甜美动人的双唇。她脸部的活力和美丽都源自那双眼睛。

这就是她给我的印象,但同时她身上有一些我无法解释的东西——一些我应该记得,却想不起来的东西。我完全沉浸在自己的思绪里,甚至她向我打招呼时,我几乎都说不出话来。

哈尔库姆小姐可能觉得我是个腼腆的人,马上说:“看看你的学生多好,”然后又指了指那些画,“你的课还没开始,她已经开始自己画了。劳拉,我们一会儿坐马车出去的时候,把你的画给哈特里特先生看看。”

费尔利小姐开心地笑起来。

“我希望先生把真实的评价告诉我,不要光说好话哄我。”她说。

“请问你为什么这么说呢?”我问她。

“因为你的任何评价我都会相信。”她回答得很爽快。

从这些话里我看出她天性真诚,会毫无保留地相信他人。

过了一会儿,我们按计划坐马车出去,然而我必须承认比起费尔利小姐的画,我对她的言谈更感兴趣。我很快意识到自己的表现与其说像绘画教师不如说更像客人。自己一个人的时候,我感到有些不自在,对自己不满意。

晚饭的时候,这些感觉很快消失了。吃罢晚饭,我们来到一间大客厅,这里装有通往花园的玻璃门。维西夫人在扶手椅上睡着了,哈尔库姆小姐在翻阅她母亲的信件。在我的请求下,费尔利小姐弹起了钢琴。

这样安逸的情景我怎能忘记呢?屋外的鲜花,莫扎特的音乐,哈尔库姆小姐在微暗的光线下读信的样子,费尔利小姐映在昏暗的墙壁上的美丽侧脸,今晚这一切声音和情景都令人难以忘怀。

过了一会儿,费尔利小姐弹完了琴,走进月光下的花园。哈尔库姆小姐叫我。

“哈特里特先生,你能过来一下吗?”

我走过去,她递给我一封信。

“这是妈妈12年前写给她第二个丈夫的信。信中提到从汉普郡来的凯瑟里克太太,她是来照料住在村子里生病的妹妹的。她好像把她的独生女儿小安妮带来了,安妮比劳拉大1岁左右。当时我在巴黎读书,妈妈那时对村子里的学校非常感兴趣,她觉得小安妮学习比较吃力,就在家里辅导她。妈妈还把劳拉的一些白连衣裙和帽子送给她,说安妮穿白色衣服最好看。她说安妮·凯瑟里克很感激,也很喜欢她。一天,她吻过妈妈的手,说:‘我一辈子都会穿白色衣服,因为白色让我永远记着你。’”

哈尔库姆小姐停下来看着我,问道:

“你那天晚上碰到的那个女人,是不是只有二十二三岁的样子?”

“没错,哈尔库姆小姐,差不多那么大。”

“她是不是从头到脚都穿白色?”

“的确都是白色的。”

从我坐的地方可以看到费尔利小姐在花园中散步,月光下她的白色连衣裙突然间使我的心跳加快了。

“听听妈妈在信的末尾是怎么说的,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“你一定会感到吃惊的。她说她之所以那么喜欢小安妮·凯瑟里克,可能是因为她长得特别像——”

没等她说完,我一下子跳了起来。外面站着费尔利小姐,月光下一个孤零零的白色身影,猛然间我明白了我没有想起来的是什么了——就是劳拉·费尔利小姐同从精神病院跑出来的白衣女人惊人地相似。

“你看出来了!”哈尔库姆小姐说,“和妈妈一样,她多年前也看出了她们之间惊人的相似。”

“是的,”我说,“但是我非常不愿意把那个孤独无依的女人同费尔利小姐联系起来,即使这全是出于偶然,也让我内心不安。我不想再想这件事。还是叫她进来吧,那月光太可怕了!”

“我们不要对劳拉讲任何有关相貌相似的事,”她说,“这是我们之间的秘密。”说完,她招呼费尔利小姐进屋来,让她再弹一首曲子。就这样,我在利默里奇不平凡的第一天结束了。

*  *  *

日子一天天、一个星期又一个星期地过去了,夏季已被金秋取代。这是宁静而快乐的季节,然而,我最终还是必须向自己承认对费尔利小姐的感觉。

我爱上了她。

作为师生,每天我都和她那么接近,这很危险。很多次,在低头翻看写生簿的时候,我们的手和脸几乎要碰到,我可以闻到她头发的香味。我本应与她保持教师与学生应有的距离,我和过去教过的学生都是这样。但是我现在没有,而且已经来不及了。

来坎伯兰郡的第三个月,我已经完全沉浸在爱的幻想中,对将要到来的危险一无所知。第一个危险的信号终于来了——而且就来自于。一夜之间,她对我的态度发生了变化,她对我有一种拘束的疏离感,还有一种莫名的哀伤。我当时的痛苦无法言表。不过后来我才知道她是因为发现了我的感受,也发现了她自己的感受才有这样的变化。这种变化还反映在哈尔库姆小姐身上,她虽然没跟我说什么,但是开始经常注视着我。这种可怕的新状况一直持续到将近第三个月末的一个星期四。最后,理智、勇敢的哈尔库姆小姐帮我得到了解脱。

“能占用你一点儿时间吗?”早饭后她这样问我,“我们去花园走走好吗?”

我们来到凉亭,走了进去。哈尔库姆小姐转向我;“哈特里特先生,我要向你说的话在这儿可以说了。我知道你是一位举止得体的好人,你跟我讲的关于伦敦那个不幸女人的事证明了这一点。但是,作为你的朋友,我必须告诉你,我发现了你对我妹妹劳拉的感情。除了表现得有些软弱,你没做错什么,不过我还是必须劝你在造成伤害之前离开利默里奇庄园。我还有些事要告诉你,可能会让你痛苦。你能不能先和你的朋友玛丽安·哈尔库姆握握手?”

她说得非常诚恳,我握了握她的手。

“你必须离开这里,因为劳拉·费尔利就要结婚了。”

最后那个词就像一颗子弹一样穿过我的胸膛。我的脸色苍白,全身冰冷。就因为这一个词,我所有的希望都消失了。

“你必须在这里结束这段感情,就在你们初次相识的地方。我不会对你有任何隐瞒,她不是为了爱才结婚,而是因为她在她父亲临终时做的承诺。她要嫁的人下星期一到这里。”

“我今天就走,”我难过地说,“越快越好。”

“不,不要今天走。那样会让别人觉得奇怪。等到明天邮差来了再走。你就跟费尔利先生说收到了坏消息,必须马上回伦敦去。”

“我按你说的做,哈尔库姆小姐,”我伤心地说,“不过,你能告诉我同费尔利小姐订婚的先生是谁吗?”

“是汉普郡的一个有钱人。”

汉普郡!又一个和安妮·凯瑟里克有关的线索!

“他叫什么?”我尽量平静地问。

“珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士。”

爵士!我想起安妮·凯瑟里克问过的有关准男爵的问题。“他是准男爵吗?”我的声音有些颤抖。

她停了一停,说道:“对,他是准男爵。”

3
The unsigned letter

As I sat alone in my room later that morning, my thoughts crowded in on me. There was no reason at all for me to connect Sir Percival Glyde with the man who had made Anne Catherick so afraid — but I did. My suffering was great, but even greater was my feeling that some terrible, invisible danger lay ahead of us. Then I heard a knock at my door. It was Miss Halcombe.

'Mr Hartright, I am sorry to disturb you, but you are the only person who can advise me. A letter has just arrived for Miss Fairlie — a horrible, unsigned letter, warning her not to marry Sir Percival Glyde. It has upset my sister very much. Should I try to find out who wrote it or wait to speak to Mr Gilmore, Mr Fairlie's legal adviser, who arrives tomorrow?'

She gave me the letter. There was no greeting, no signature.

Do you believe in dreams, Miss Fairlie? Last night I dreamt I saw you in your white wedding dress in a church, so pretty, so innocent. By your side stood a man with the scar of an old wound on his right hand — a handsome man, but with a black, evil heart; a man who has brought misery to many, and who will bring misery to you. And in my dream I cried for you. Find out the past life of this man, Miss Fairlie, before you marry him. I send you this warning, because your mother was my first, my best, my only friend.

These last words suggested an idea to me, which I was afraid to mention. Was I in danger of losing my balance of mind? Why should everything lead back to the woman in white?

'I think a woman wrote this letter,' said Miss Halcombe. 'It certainly refers to Sir Percival — I remember that scar. What should I do, Mr Hartright? This mystery must be solved. Mr Gilmore is coming to discuss the financial details of Miss Fairlie's marriage, and Sir Percival arrives on Monday to fix the date of the marriage — though Miss Fairlie does not know this yet.'

The date of the marriage! Those words filled me with jealous despair. Perhaps there was some truth in this letter. If I could find the writer, perhaps I would find a way to prove that Sir Percival Glyde was not the honest man he seemed.

'I think we should begin enquiries at once,' I said. 'The longer we delay, the harder it will be to find out anything.'

We questioned the servants and learnt that the letter had been delivered by an elderly woman, who had then disappeared in the direction of the village. People in Limmeridge remembered seeing the woman, but no one could tell us who she was or where she had come from. Finally, I suggested asking the school teacher. As we approached the school door, we could hear the teacher shouting at one of the boys, saying angrily that there were no such things as ghosts. It was an awkward moment, but we went in anyway and asked our question. The teacher could tell us nothing. However, as we turned to leave, Miss Halcombe spoke to the boy standing in the corner:

'Are you the foolish boy who was talking about ghosts?'

'Yes, Miss. But I saw one! I saw it yesterday, in the churchyard. I did! It was — it was the ghost of Mrs Fairlie!'

His answer visibly shocked Miss Halcombe, and the teacher quickly stepped in to explain that the silly boy had said he had seen (or probably imagined) a woman in white standing next to Mrs Fairlie's grave as he passed the churchyard yesterday evening. There was nothing more to it than that.

'What is your opinion of this?' Miss Halcombe asked me as we went out of the school.

'The boy may have seen someone,' I said, 'but not a ghost. I think we should examine the grave. I have this suspicion, Miss Halcombe, that the writer of the letter and the imagined ghost in the churchyard might be the same person.'

She stopped, turned pale, and looked at me. 'What person?'

'Anne Catherick,' I replied. 'The woman in white.'

'I don't know why, but your suspicion frightens me,' she said slowly. 'I will show you the grave, and then I must go back to Laura. We'll meet again at the house later.'

In the churchyard I examined Mrs Fairlie's grave carefully, and noticed that the gravestone had been partly cleaned. Perhaps the person who had done the cleaning would return to finish the job. I decided to come back that evening and watch. Back at the house I explained my plan to Miss Halcombe, who seemed uneasy but made no objection. So, as the sun began to go down, I walked to the churchyard, chose my position, and waited.

After about half an hour I heard footsteps. Then two women passed in front of me and walked to the grave. One wore a long cloak with a hood over her head, hiding her face. Below the cloak a little of her dress was visible — a white dress. The other woman said something to her companion, and then walked away round the corner of the church, leaving the woman in the cloak next to the grave. After looking all around her, she took out a cloth, kissed the white cross and started to clean it.

I approached her slowly and carefully, but when she saw me, she jumped up and looked at me in terror.

There, in front of me, was the face of the woman in white.

'Don't be frightened,' I said. 'Surely you remember me?' Her eyes searched my face. 'I helped you to find the way to London,' I went on. 'Surely you have not forgotten that?'

Her face relaxed as she recognized me, and she sighed in relief. Before this, I had seen her likeness in Miss Fairlie. Now I saw Miss Fairlie's likeness in her. Except that Miss Fairlie's delicate beauty was missing from this tired face, and I could not help thinking that if ever sorrow and suffering fell on Miss Fairlie, then, and only then, they would be the living reflections of one another. It was a horrible thought.

Gently, I began to question her. I told her that I knew she had escaped from an asylum, and that I was glad I had helped her. But had she found her friend in London that night?

'Oh yes. That was Mrs Clements, who is here with me now. She was our neighbour in Hampshire, and took care of me when I was a little girl. She has always been my friend.'

'Have you no father or mother to take care of you?'

'I never saw my father — I never heard mother speak of him. And I don't get on well with her. I'd rather be with Mrs Clements, who is kind, like you.'

I learnt that she was staying with relations of Mrs Clements at a farm, three miles from the village, but there were other, harder questions I wanted to ask. Who had shut her away in an asylum? Her 'unkind' mother, perhaps? What was her motive in writing the letter to Miss Fairlie, accusing Sir Percival Glyde? Was it revenge? What wrong had Sir Percival done her?

She was easily frightened, easily confused, and could only hold one idea in her mind at a time. I tried not to alarm her. Had she ever, I asked, been wronged by a man and then abandoned? Her innocent, puzzled face told me that was not the answer.

All the time we were talking she was cleaning the gravestone with her cloth.

'Mrs Fairlie was my best friend,' she murmured. 'And her daughter...' She looked up at me, then away again, as though hiding her face in guilt. 'Is Miss Fairlie well and happy?' she whispered anxiously.

I decided to try and surprise a confession from her. 'She was not well or happy this morning, after receiving your letter. You wrote it, didn't you? It was wrong to send such a letter.'

Her face went deathly pale. Then she bent down and kissed the gravestone. 'Oh, Mrs Fairlie! Mrs Fairlie! Tell me how to save your daughter. Tell me what to do.'

'You mention no names in the letter, but Miss Fairlie knows that the person you describe is Sir Percival Glyde —'

The moment I said his name she gave such a scream of terror that my blood ran cold. Her face, now full of fear and hatred, told me everything. Without doubt the person who had shut her away in the asylum was Sir Percival Glyde.

At the sound of her scream, Mrs Clements came running and, looking angrily at me, said, 'What is it, my dear? What has this man done to you?'

'Nothing,' the poor girl said. 'He was good to me once. He helped me...' She whispered the rest in her friend's ear.

Then Mrs Clements put her arm round Anne Catherick and led her away. I watched them go, feeling great pity for that poor, pale, frightened face.

Half an hour later I was back at the house, and the story I told Miss Halcombe made her very worried.

'I am certain Sir Percival Glyde put Anne Catherick in the asylum,' I said. 'But why? What is the connection between them?'

'We must find out,' said Miss Halcombe. 'We will go to the farm tomorrow, and I will speak to Anne Catherick myself.'

*  *  *

The first thing I had to do the next morning was to ask Mr Fairlie if I could leave my job a month early. As his nerves were particularly bad, I could not speak to him directly but had to write a note, explaining that some unexpected news forced me to return to London. In reply I received a most unpleasant letter, informing me that I could go. Once, such a letter would have upset me greatly; now, I no longer cared.

Later Miss Halcombe and I walked to the farm, and Miss Halcombe went in while I waited nearby. To my surprise, she returned after only a few minutes.

'Does Anne Catherick refuse to see you?' I asked.

'Anne Catherick has gone,' replied Miss Halcombe. 'She left this morning, with Mrs Clements. The farmer's wife, Mrs Todd, has no idea why they left or where they went. She just said that Anne Catherick had been disturbed after reading something in the local newspaper a couple of days ago. I looked at the paper and saw that it mentioned Laura's future wedding. Then Mrs Todd said that Anne Catherick fainted last night, apparently in shock at something mentioned by one of the servant girls from our house, who was visiting the farm on her evening off.'

We hurried back to the house to question the servant girl. Miss Halcombe asked her if she had mentioned Sir Percival Glyde's name while at the farm. 'Oh yes,' the girl replied. 'I said he was coming on Monday.'

At that moment a cab arrived and Mr Gilmore, the family friend and legal adviser, got out. He was an elderly man, pleasant-looking and neatly dressed. Miss Halcombe introduced me, and then went away to discuss family matters with him. I wandered out into the garden. My time at Limmeridge House was nearly at an end, and I wanted to say a last goodbye to the places where I had so often walked with Miss Fairlie, in the dream-time of my happiness and my love. But the autumn day was grey and damp, and those golden memories were already fading.

As I returned to the house, I met Mr Gilmore.

'Ah, Mr Hartright,' he said. 'Miss Halcombe has told me how helpful you have been about this strange letter received by Miss Fairlie. I want you to know that the investigation is now in my safe hands. I have written to Sir Percival Glyde's lawyer in London and I'm sure we will receive a satisfactory explanation.'

'I'm afraid I am not so sure as you,' was my reply.

'Well, well,' said Mr Gilmore. 'We will wait for events.'

At dinner that evening — my last dinner at Limmeridge House — it was a hard battle to keep my self-control. I saw that it was not easy for Miss Fairlie, either. She gave me her hand as she had done in happier days, but her fingers trembled and her face was pale. Mr Gilmore kept the conversation going, and afterwards we went into the sitting room as usual. Miss Fairlie sat at the piano.

'Shall I play some of those pieces by Mozart that you like? Will you sit in your old chair near me?' she asked nervously.

'As it is my last night, I will,' I answered.

'I am very sorry you are going,' she said, almost in a whisper.

'I shall remember those kind words, Miss Fairlie, long after tomorrow has gone,' I replied.

'Don't speak about tomorrow.'

Then she played, and at last it was time to say goodnight.

The next morning I found Miss Halcombe and Miss Fairlie waiting for me downstairs. When I began to speak, Miss Fairlie turned and hurried from the room. I tried to control my voice, but could only say, 'Will you write to me, Miss Halcombe?'

She took both my hands in hers, and her face grew beautiful with the force of her generosity and pity. 'Of course I will, Walter. Goodbye — and God bless you!'

She left, and a few seconds later Miss Fairlie returned, holding something. It was her own sketch of the summer-house where we had first met. With tears in her eyes, she offered it to me,' to remind you', she whispered. My own tears fell as I kissed her hand, then I turned to go. She sank into a chair, her head dropped on her arms. At that moment I knew that Laura Fairlie loved me too. But it was over. We were separated.


crowd v. come together in a crowd 聚集;集中

invisible adj. not visible to the eye 看不见的

jealous adj. afraid, suspicious or resentful of rivalry in love or affection 嫉妒的

deliver v. distribute letters to the addressee

approach v. come near or nearer to a place 接近;靠近

examine v. look closely at 仔细地看

objection n. an expression or feeling of opposition or disapproval 反对;不同意

terror n. extreme fear 恐惧;恐怖

relax v. become less rigid or tense 放松

recognize v. identify a person an already known 认出来

relation n. a member of one's family 亲戚;亲属

motive n. factor or circumstance that induces a person to act on a particular way 动机

revenge n. retaliation for an offence or injury 复仇

abandon v. forsake or desert 抛弃

scream n. a loud high-pitched cry expressing fear, pain etc. 惊叫;尖叫

faint v. lose consciousness 失去知觉;晕倒

fade v. diminish 减退

sink v. settle down 坐下

3.匿名信件

那天上午,我一个人坐在房间里,思绪异常纷乱。我本来没有任何理由把珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士和那个让安妮·凯瑟里克害怕的人联系起来——但我的确把他们连在了一起。我很痛苦,但也强烈地感到将有看不见的可怕危险到来。这时,我听到有人敲门,来的是哈尔库姆小姐。

“哈特里特先生,很抱歉打扰你,可是只有你能给我出个主意了。刚收到一封给费尔利小姐的信——一封可怕的匿名信,警告她不要和珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士结婚。这封信让妹妹非常不安。我是应该查一下谁写的信,还是等明天费尔利先生的法律顾问吉尔摩先生来了问问他?”

她把信递给我,上面没有问候语,也没有签名。


你相信梦吗,费尔利小姐?昨天夜里我梦见你穿着白色婚纱站在教堂里,你是那么漂亮,那么纯洁。你身边站着一个右手有旧伤疤的男人,他面容英俊,但内心邪恶,他曾让许多人痛苦,也会让你痛苦。在梦里我为你哭泣。费尔利小姐,弄清这个人的过去再同他结婚。我之所以给你如此的忠告是因为你的母亲是我第一个朋友,也是最好的、唯一的朋友。


信的最后几个字让我想到了一件事,但我不敢说出来。是不是我脑子出了问题?为什么所有的事情都指向那个白衣女人?

“我认为这封信是一个女人写的,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“信里说的肯定是珀西瓦尔爵士,我记得他的那条疤。我该怎么办,哈特里特先生?这个谜一定得解开。吉尔摩先生要来谈费尔利小姐婚事的财务细节,珀西瓦尔爵士星期一来确定结婚的日期——不过费尔利小姐还不知道。”

结婚的日期!这些字眼使我又嫉妒又绝望。也许这封信里有些话是真的。如果我能找到写信人,也许会有办法证明珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士并不像他外表看起来那样正直。

“我觉得我们应该马上开始调查,”我说,“耽误的时间越长,越难找到线索。”

我们问了仆人,得知信是一个上了年纪的女人送来的,那女人朝村子的方向走去,很快就消失了。利默里奇庄园的人说记得见过那个女人,但没人知道她是谁,从哪里来。最后我建议去问一问学校的老师。快到学校门口的时候,我们听见老师正大声训斥一个学生说根本就没有什么鬼。这是个尴尬的时刻,但我们还是进去向老师提出了我们的问题。老师没能告诉我们任何信息。然而,在我们转身离开时,哈尔库姆小姐对站在角落的男孩说:

“你就是说有鬼的那个傻孩子?”

“是的,小姐。可我真的看到了!昨天在教堂的墓地里看见的。我真的看见了!那鬼是……是费尔利夫人!”

孩子的话显然令哈尔库姆小姐非常吃惊。老师马上走过来解释说这傻孩子说他昨天晚上路过教堂墓地的时候,看见(或是想象)一个穿白衣服的女人站在费尔利夫人的墓旁。我们得到的消息就是这些。

“你怎么看这件事?”走出学校,哈尔库姆小姐问我。

“那男孩可能看见了什么人,”我说,“但不是鬼。我想我们应该去看看那墓地。我怀疑,哈尔库姆小姐,写信的人和那个教堂墓地里假想出来的鬼可能是同一个人。”

她停住了脚步,脸色煞白,两只眼睛紧盯着我,“那人是谁?”

“安妮·凯瑟里克,”我回答,“那个白衣女人。”

“我不知道为什么,但是你的怀疑让我很害怕,”她缓慢地说,“我带你去墓地,然后我得回去看看劳拉。我们庄园再见。”

在教堂墓地里,我仔细察看了费尔利夫人的坟墓,发现墓碑有一部分被人擦洗过。也许那人会回来继续擦洗。我决定晚上再回来看看。回到庄园,我把想法告诉了哈尔库姆小姐,她看上去有些不安,但没有表示反对。于是,太阳刚开始落山,我就走路到了教堂墓地,找了个地方,开始等待。

大约半小时后,我听到了脚步声。接着,两个女人从我前面走过,向坟墓走去。其中一个穿着斗篷,兜帽遮住了她的脸。斗篷下面可以看到一点儿她的裙角——白色的裙子。另一个女人跟她说了些什么,然后转过墙角走了。穿斗篷的女人来到坟墓旁,向周围仔细看了看,然后掏出一块布,吻了一下白色的十字架,开始擦洗墓碑。

我小心翼翼地慢慢走近那女人,她看见我后,一下子跳起来,惊恐地望着我。

出现在我眼前的正是那白衣女人的脸。

“别害怕,”我说,“你肯定记得我吧?”她打量着我的脸。“是我指给你通往伦敦的路,你肯定没忘吧?”我接着说。

她认出我以后,长出了一口气,脸上的表情也放松了。在此之前,我曾看出她和费尔利小姐的相像之处,现在我看出费尔利小姐和她的相像之处。只不过费尔利小姐的精致美丽在这张疲惫的脸上看不出来。我不禁想到,假如不幸和痛苦降临到费尔利小姐头上,她们俩就真的一模一样了。这是个可怕的想法。

我开始和缓地向她提问。我告诉她我知道她是从精神病院逃出来的,也很高兴帮助了她。不过,那天晚上她找到伦敦的朋友了吗?

“噢,找到了。就是克莱门茨太太。她现在跟我在一起。她是我们在汉普郡的邻居,我小的时候就是她照顾我。她一直是我的朋友。”

“你没有父母照顾你吗?”

“我从没见过父亲——也从没听母亲说起过他。我同母亲关系不好。我宁愿同克莱门茨太太在一起。她心地善良,就像你一样。”

我了解到她和克莱门茨太太的亲戚住在离村子3英里远的农场里,但是我还想问一些更尖锐的问题。是谁把她关进了精神病院?是对她“不好”的母亲吗?她为什么要给费尔利小姐写信指责珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士?是复仇吗?珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士做了什么对不起她的事呢?

她特别容易受惊吓,容易思绪紊乱,只能一次考虑一个问题。我尽量不惊吓她。我问她是不是有个男人做了对不起她的事,而后抛弃了她?她单纯、疑惑的表情告诉我答案是否定的。

我们交谈的过程中,她一直在用布擦拭墓碑。

“费尔利夫人是我最好的朋友,”她小声说,“她女儿……”她抬头看看我,然后又转过头去,像是由于羞愧而不愿见人,“费尔利小姐好吗?快乐吗?”她急切地轻声问。

我决定给她一个突然袭击,看是否可以让她说出真相。“她今天早上收到你的信以后很不好,很不快乐。是你写的信,对吗?你不该写那样的信。”

她的脸变得像死人一般苍白。她低下头,吻了吻墓碑,“噢,费尔利夫人!费尔利夫人!告诉我怎么才能救你的女儿。告诉我该怎么做。”

“你在信里没有提到任何人的名字,但是费尔利小姐明白你说的那个人是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士——”

我说出这个名字的时候,她害怕得惊叫起来,那叫声让我全身发冷。她的脸上充满了恐惧和仇恨,这表情说明了一切。毫无疑问,把她关进精神病院的人就是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士。

听到惊叫声,克莱门茨太太跑过来,气愤地看了看我,说:“怎么啦,亲爱的?他对你怎么啦?”

“没事,”可怜的姑娘说,“他以前帮过我,他帮我……”下面的话她跟克莱门茨太太耳语着。

然后,克莱门茨太太挽着安妮·凯瑟里克,带她走了。我望着她们远去的背影,心中充满了对那可怜姑娘的同情,她的脸色是那样苍白,那样惊恐。

半小时后,我回到了庄园。我把事情经过告诉哈尔库姆小姐后,她显得非常担心。

“我敢肯定是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士把安妮·凯瑟里克关进精神病院的,”我说,“可是他为什么这样做呢?他们之间是什么关系呢?”

“我们必须搞清楚,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“明天我们去农场,我要亲自同安妮·凯瑟里克谈谈。”

*  *  *

第二天我要做的第一件事是请求费尔利先生允许我提前一个月结束在这里的工作。因为他的精神非常不好,我不能同他直接谈,只能写一封短信,说明我收到一些意外的消息,必须回伦敦去。很快我收到一封很不客气的回信,通知我可以离开。要是过去,这样的信会让我非常沮丧,可是现在我不在乎了。

随后,哈尔库姆小姐和我步行到农场去。她进去的时候我在附近等她。令我吃惊的是没几分钟她就出来了。

“是不是安妮·凯瑟里克拒绝见你?”我问。

“安妮·凯瑟里克已经走了,”哈尔库姆小姐说,“今天早上,她同克莱门茨太太一起走的。农场主的妻子托德太太不清楚她们为什么要走,也不知道她们到哪里去了。她只告诉我几天前安妮·凯瑟里克看了当地报纸上的什么消息后,就一直心神不安。我看了那份报纸,上面提到了劳拉将要举行的婚礼。托德太太说安妮·凯瑟里克昨晚晕倒了,原因很明显,我们庄园一个女仆带来的消息吓到了她,那个女仆昨晚放假来农场做客。”

我们马上回到庄园向那个女仆了解情况。哈尔库姆小姐问她,在农场的时候是不是提到了珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士的名字。“对,提到了,”女仆回答,“我说他星期一要来庄园。”

这个时候,一辆马车停在了门口,这家的老朋友和法律顾问吉尔摩先生从车里走下来。他是一位慈眉善目、穿着考究的老人。哈尔库姆小姐为我做了引见,然后就和吉尔摩先生去谈有关家里的事务了。我走进了外面的花园。我在利默里奇庄园的日子很快就要结束了,我想同这里的一切道个别。在这个花园里,我多少次和费尔利小姐散步,这是我享受幸福,享受爱情的地方。秋日的天灰蒙蒙的,空气很潮湿,那些甜美的记忆已经开始褪色。

alt

我回到屋里以后,见到了吉尔摩先生。

“呵,哈特里特先生,”他对我说,“哈尔库姆小姐已经跟我说了费尔利小姐收到那封奇怪来信的事,你帮了很大的忙。我想告诉你,对这件事的调查我很有把握,我已经给珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士在伦敦的律师写了信,我相信我们会得到一个满意的答复的。”

“我倒不像你那么有把握。”我说。

“好吧,好吧,”吉尔摩先生说,“那我们就等等结果吧。”

那天吃晚饭的时候——我在利默里奇庄园的最后一次晚饭——我努力控制自己的情感。我看得出费尔利小姐也非常不自在。像以前快乐的日子里一样,她把手伸给我,但她的手指在颤抖,脸上没有一点血色。只有吉尔摩先生滔滔不绝地说这说那,之后大家像往常一样来到客厅。费尔利小姐坐到了钢琴旁。

“我弹几首你喜欢的莫扎特的曲子好吗?你还坐我旁边的椅子,好吗?”她神色不安地问我。

“这是我在这里的最后一个晚上了,我照你说的做。”我对她说。

“你要走了,我很难过。”她的声音低得几乎听不到。

“我会记住你的话,费尔利小姐,明天以后我会一直记着的。”我说。

“不要提明天。”

接下来她开始弹钢琴,最后到说晚安的时候了。

转天早晨,我看到哈尔库姆小姐和费尔利小姐在楼下等我。我刚要开口说话,费尔利小姐转身跑出了房间。我尽量控制着自己的声音,但只说了一句:“给我写信好吗,哈尔库姆小姐?”

她紧紧握住我的双手,她的慷慨和同情让她显得漂亮起来。“我当然会的,沃尔特。再见——愿上帝保佑你!”

她离开片刻后,费尔利小姐回来了,手里还拿着什么东西。那是她自己画的我们初次相见的凉亭。她眼里噙着泪水,把画递给我。“留个纪念吧。”她轻声说。我吻着她的手,眼泪禁不住流了下来。我转身离去。她一下子跌坐到椅子上,头垂到了手臂上。那一刻,我明白劳拉·费尔利也在爱着我。但是,一切都结束了,我们被分开了。

PART TWO—THE STORY TOLD BY MARIAN HALCOMBE 第二部分 玛丽安·哈尔库姆的讲述

PART TWO
THE STORY TOLD BY MARIAN HALCOMBE
第二部分 玛丽安·哈尔库姆的讲述

4
Arrangements for a marriage

It was a sad day when Walter Hartright left us. Laura stayed in her room all day, and I felt sad and depressed. Poor Mr Gilmore must have had a dull time, and the next morning, when Laura reappeared looking pale and ill, I thought he seemed rather anxious about her. I was anxious too. Laura is such a sensitive and loving person that it was no surprise to me to find that she had grown fond of Walter. Indeed, I have grown fond of him myself. But I honestly believe that time will cure Laura of these feelings.

Two days after Walter left, Sir Percival Glyde arrived. He is forty-five years old but seems younger. He is handsome, and only a little bald, has perfect manners, and is pleasant, agreeable, and respectful. I really must try to like him.

In the afternoon, while Laura was out of the room, Sir Percival referred to Anne Catherick's letter.

'I read Mr Gilmore's letter to my lawyer,' he said, 'and I want to give you a full explanation. Mrs Catherick, you see, worked for me and my family for many years. Her marriage was unfortunate, in that her husband deserted her, and her only child, a girl, became mentally ill and needed to be put in an asylum. So, in recognition of Mrs Catherick's services, I agreed to pay the expenses of a private asylum for the girl. Unfortunately, the girl discovered this and consequently developed a hatred for me. She recently escaped from the asylum and I'm sure she wrote this letter because of her hatred for me. It's all very sad.'

Mr Gilmore found this explanation perfectly satisfactory, and said so. He then looked at me for agreement, but I was struggling with a sense of unease that I could not explain, and hesitated before answering. Sir Percival noticed this at once.

'May I beg you, Miss Halcombe,' he said politely, 'to write to Mrs Catherick to ask if these facts are true?'

I did not want to agree to this, but how could I refuse, without making the situation even more embarrassing than it already was? So I went to the desk, wrote a note, and gave it to him. Without looking at it, he put it in an envelope and wrote the address.

'Now that is done,' he said, 'may I ask if Anne Catherick spoke to Miss Fairlie, or to you?'

'No. She spoke to nobody except Mr Hartright,' I replied.

'Ah, yes, the drawing teacher,' he said thoughtfully. 'And did you discover where Anne Catherick was staying?'

I described the farm to him.

'It is my duty to try to find her,' he continued. 'Tomorrow I will go to this farm and make enquiries.' Soon afterwards he left to go up to his room.

*  *  *

That evening and the next day Sir Percival took every opportunity to bring Laura into the conversation, but she hardly took any notice. He went to the farm to make his enquiries about Anne Catherick, but learnt nothing. Then on Wednesday a letter came from Mrs Catherick — a short, business-like letter, thanking me for my note and saying that everything Sir Percival had told me was completely correct.

Why did I still have doubts? This, surely, was enough proof for anyone, but how I wished that Walter Hartright had been there to give his opinion! At Sir Percival's request I now had to give Laura his explanation of Anne Catherick's letter. She listened quietly and showed no emotion, but I noticed that on the table near her hand was the little book of Hartright's drawings. I also had to tell her that the reason for Sir Percival's visit was to fix the day of their marriage.

'I'm afraid he will ask you to decide quite soon, Laura.'

'Oh no, Marian! I can't do that!' she said. 'Please ask him, beg him, to allow me more time. I promise to give him a final answer before the end of the year, but not yet, please, not yet.'

Sir Percival agreed to this request, and when Mr Gilmore heard about it, he arranged to have a private talk with Laura.

'I have to return to London tomorrow,' he said to me, 'and I need to discuss the financial side of this marriage with Miss Fairlie before I go. As you know, she will inherit a great deal of money and property when she becomes twenty-one next March, and I must include all this in the marriage agreement in a way that reflects Miss Fairlie's own wishes, and is also acceptable to Sir Percival.'

He had the meeting with Laura the next morning, and in the afternoon he left for London, looking rather sad and thoughtful. Wondering what had been said, I hurried up to Laura's room.

'Oh, Marian, come in,' she said. 'I need to talk to you.'

'What is it, Laura? Is it about the marriage agreement?'

'No. I couldn't even bear to discuss that with Mr Gilmore. I'm ashamed to say that all I could do was cry. He was very kind and good, Marian, and he said that he would look after everything for me. No, what I wanted to tell you was this. I cannot bear the situation any longer. I must end it.'

Her eyes were bright and she spoke with great energy. I began to feel alarmed. 'What do you wish to do, Laura darling? Do you want to be released from your promise to marry Sir Percival?'

'No,' she said simply. 'I cannot break my promise to my father. But I want to tell the truth, and I will confess to Sir Percival that I love someone else.'

'Laura! He has no right to know that!' I said in amazement.

'I cannot deceive him,' she said. 'I have thought it over carefully. After I have told him, let him do as he wishes.'

I looked into her innocent, loving eyes and could say nothing. I just put my arms around her, trying not to cry myself.

'May I speak to him tomorrow, in your presence, Marian?'

I held her tight and agreed — though I was not sure I was doing the right thing. Indeed, I was not sure of anything. I could not understand how I had failed to see how deeply she loved Walter Hartright. For the first time in my life I had made a mistake about her. Now I realized that she would love him all her life.

*  *  *

The first thing that happened the next morning did nothing to make me feel more cheerful. A letter arrived for me from poor Walter Hartright. He had decided to leave England and asked me if I could help him find employment abroad. I was then alarmed to read that since his return to London he had neither seen nor heard anything of Anne Catherick, but suspected he had been watched and followed by strange men. I was worried about his state of mind, so I immediately wrote to some friends in London to ask if they could help him find a suitable job in another country. Laura, of course, knew nothing about these letters.

Sir Percival did not join us for breakfast, but sent a message, saying he would meet us at eleven o'clock, as arranged. Laura seemed calm and unusually self-controlled. I had never seen her like this. It was almost as if love had created a new force in her character.

At exactly eleven Sir Percival knocked and entered, with anxiety and worry in every line of his face. This meeting would decide his future life, and he obviously knew it.

'You may wonder, Sir Percival,' said Laura calmly, 'if I am going to ask to be released from my promise to marry you. I am not going to ask this. I respect my father's wishes too much.'

His face relaxed a little, but I saw one of his feet nervously beating the carpet.

'No, if we are going to withdraw from our planned marriage, it will be because of your wish, Sir Percival, not mine.'

'Mine?' he said in great surprise. 'What reason could I have for withdrawing?'

'A reason that is very hard to tell you,' she answered. 'There is a change in me.'

His face went so pale that even his lips lost their colour. He turned his head to one side.

'What change?' he asked, trying to hide his nervousness.

'When the promise was made two years ago,' she said, 'my love did not belong to anyone. Will you forgive me, Sir Percival, if I tell you that it now belongs to another person?'

Her tears started to fall, and Sir Percival hid his face behind his hand, so that it was impossible to know what he was thinking. He made no answer, and my temper got the better of me.

'Sir Percival!' I said sharply. 'Have you nothing to say? You have already heard more than you have a right to hear.'

'But I didn't ask for that right,' he said, avoiding my question.

'I wish you to understand,' Laura continued, 'that I will never see this person again, and that if you leave me, you only allow me to remain a single woman for the rest of my life. All I ask is that you forgive me and keep my secret.'

'I will do both those things,' he said. Then he looked at Laura, as if he was waiting to hear more.

'I think I have said enough to give you reason to withdraw from our marriage,' she added quietly.

'No. You have said enough to make it the dearest wish of my life to marry you,' he said, getting up and advancing towards her.

Laura gave a cry of surprise, but I had more than half expected this. Every word she had spoken had shown her honesty and her innocence, but these fine qualities had destroyed her own hopes of a release. Sir Percival understood very well the priceless value of a pure and true woman. Why would he give her up now?

'I will do everything I can to earn your love,' he said, 'and perhaps in time I will win it.'

'Never!' she answered, looking more beautiful than ever. 'I will be your true and loyal wife, but never your loving wife.'

'That is enough for me. I accept your loyalty and your truth,' he said, then raised her hand to his lips and silently left the room.

Laura sat without moving. I put my arm around her. At last she said,' I must resign myself, Marian. If you write to Walter, don't tell him how unhappy I am. And if I die first, please say to him, say what I could never say myself — say I loved him!'

Then she threw herself on the sofa and cried as if her heart was breaking, until at last she fell asleep.

*  *  *

In the days that followed it seemed that nothing could prevent this miserable marriage from taking place. I tried to make Laura change her mind, but she was determined to keep her promise, and to do her duty. Mr Fairlie was, of course, very happy that the 'family worry' was now at an end and suggested that the sooner his niece got married the better. This made me very angry, but when I told Laura, I was surprised by her calm reply.

'My uncle is right. I have caused trouble and anxiety to everyone. Let Sir Percival decide on the day for our marriage.'

Sir Percival was delighted by this news, and he then left to prepare for the bride's reception at his house in Hampshire.

I thought that a change would do Laura good, so I arranged for us both to go and stay with some friends in Yorkshire. She passively agreed with my idea. I also wrote to Mr Gilmore, telling him this marriage would now take place.

The next day I received a letter from Walter Hartright, saying that my friends had got him a job on an expedition to Central America. He was going to be the artist for the expedition. He was leaving on 21st November and would be away for six months. I could only hope that this was for the best.

Laura and I then departed for Yorkshire but after only nine days there we received a letter from Mr Fairlie, calling us back to Limmeridge immediately. What could this mean, I wondered?

I found out as soon as we arrived. Mr Fairlie and Sir Percival had agreed on 22nd December for the wedding, provided that Laura also agreed. Would I please persuade her, said Mr Fairlie. His nerves were much too bad to talk to her himself.

I also found our old friend Mr Gilmore, who had come to talk to Mr Fairlie about the marriage agreement. He was leaving that day, and was anxious to speak to me alone before he left.

'I am not at all happy about the financial arrangements in the agreement, Miss Halcombe,' he said, 'but there is nothing I can do about it. I know how fond you are of your sister and I think you ought to know why I am concerned.

'As you will know,' he went on, 'there are three parts to Miss Fairlie's inheritance. Firstly, on Mr Fairlie's death, she will inherit the Limmeridge property and land, and the income from it. If she dies childless, this property will go to a cousin, but the income from it will go to her husband during his lifetime. If she has a son, everything — property and income — will go to the son. No problems there.

'Secondly, when Miss Fairlie reaches the age of twenty-one next March, she will receive the income from £10,000. This £10,000 will go to her aunt Eleanor, if Miss Fairlie dies before her aunt — which is not very likely. The reason Miss Fairlie's father did not leave the £10,000 to his sister Eleanor on his death was that he disapproved strongly of her marriage to a foreigner, even though the man was an Italian nobleman, Count Fosco.'

'Yes, Laura has told me about that,' I said.

'Well,' Mr Gilmore went on, 'there are no problems there either. But the third part of Miss Fairlie's inheritance is more difficult. Next March she will also inherit £20,000, which will be her own money completely. If she dies before her husband, the income from the £20,000 will go to Sir Percival for his lifetime, and the capital will go to their children. If there are no children to inherit the capital, Miss Fairlie can choose relations and friends to inherit the money when she dies. That's what I proposed, but Sir Percival's lawyer did not accept it. He insists that if Sir Percival survives his wife and there are no children, Sir Percival should receive the capital. In that case, nothing will go to any other member of the family, including you, Miss Halcombe.'

Mr Gilmore sighed deeply. 'I protested strongly. I tried every argument I could, but nothing would change the lawyer's mind. I've discovered, you see, that Sir Percival is always in debt and always in need of cash. My last effort has been to come here, to try and persuade Mr Fairlie to oppose this demand from Sir Percival's lawyer. I am sorry to say I have not succeeded. Mr Fairlie wishes to avoid all responsibility for his niece's marriage arrangements. He says that his niece will not die before Sir Percival anyway, so what is there to worry about?'

Mr Gilmore stood up to go and picked up his hat. 'I shall complete the agreement and send it in. I have no choice. If I don't do it, Mr Fairlie will find another lawyer who will. But I tell you, Miss Halcombe, no daughter of mine should be married to any man alive under such an agreement as I am forced to make for Miss Fairlie.'

With that, he shook my hand, and without another word he went away to catch his train back to London.

After he had gone, I tried to be sensible. Mr Fairlie was Laura's guardian and if he chose to accept this agreement, there was nothing I could do about it. It was just one more worry about this dreadful marriage. A more immediate worry was the date of the wedding. When I told Laura, she turned pale and trembled.

'Not so soon!' she cried. 'Oh, Marian, not so soon!'

'Well, let me speak to Mr Fairlie, then,' I said, ready to fight for her. 'I will try to change it.'

'No,' she said faintly. 'Too late, Marian, too late! It will only make more trouble. Please tell my uncle I agree.'

I think I would have cried if I had not been so angry. I rushed into Mr Fairlie's room and shouted loudly, 'Laura agrees to the twenty-second' — and rushed out again, banging the door noisily. I hoped I had destroyed his nerves for the whole day.

*  *  *

After this the wedding preparations began. The dressmakers came and went all the time; there was packing, and planning, and all kinds of arrangements to make. We heard every day from Sir Percival. After the wedding he proposed to take Laura to Italy for six months. They would meet a number of Sir Percival's friends there, including his best and oldest friend, Count Fosco, whose wife, of course, was Laura's Aunt Eleanor. At least this marriage would bring Laura and her aunt together again, I thought. The Count himself sounded a most interesting person, and I rather hoped that I would meet him one day.

All too quickly the days passed. Sir Percival arrived, looking a little tired and anxious but talking and laughing like the happiest of men. The evening after he arrived he went off to the village to ask if anyone had any news of Anne Catherick. No one had heard anything, but I had to admit that it was good of him to continue to try to help her. I have decided to try and think better of him. After all, what reason do I have to distrust him? I am sure that I could like him if I really tried.

It is getting quite easy to like him. Today I spoke to him about the dearest wish of both Laura and myself — that I should be able to live with Laura after her marriage, just as I had always lived with her before. He agreed instantly and seemed delighted with the plan. I would be the ideal, the perfect companion for his wife, he said. Yes, I am beginning to like Sir Percival very much.

*  *  *

I hate Sir Percival! He has no sensitivity, no kindness, no good feeling. Last night he whispered something in Laura's ear — she has refused to tell me what it was — and her face turned white with misery. He took no notice at all, and all my suspicions of him have returned. Is he now showing his true character? He seems more restless and nervous than before, and is often sharp and bad-tempered. I have this strange idea that something might happen to prevent the marriage — and that he is afraid of that. A foolish thought. I must forget it.

As the day of our separation grows nearer, Laura cannot bear to have me out of her sight. I must be brave and cheerful, for her sake, but my fear will not go away. Will this marriage be the one terrible mistake of her life, and the one hopeless sorrow of mine?

*  *  *

It is the twenty-second. No more time for tears. Laura is dressed, and we leave for the church. By eleven o'clock they are married. By three o'clock they are gone. I am blind with crying and can write no more...


cure v. restore to health 治愈

respectful adj. showing deference 有礼貌的

desert v. abandon 抛弃

private adj. independent; not connected with government, public service, etc. 私立的

hesitate v. show or feel uncertainty or indecision 犹豫

embarrassing adj. causing to feel awkward or self-conscious or ashamed 令人难堪的;使人尴尬的

thoughtfully adv. engaged in or given to meditation 沉思地;若有所思地

business-like adj. serious, formal 正式的

emotion n. a strong mental or instinctive feeling 情感

inherit v. receive by legal descent or succession 继承

presence n. the state or condition of being present 在场

release v. set free; liberate 解除

withdraw v. discontinue, cancel 撤出;退出

advance v. move forward 向前走

destroy v. spoil utterly 破坏

in time eventually 最终

loyal adj. true, faithful 忠贞的

resign v. give up 退让

passively adv. offering no objection 被动地;不反对

expedition n. a journey for a particular purpose 为特别目的的旅行

provided conj. on the condition that 只要

likely adj. probable 可能的

disapprove v. have or express an unfavourable opinion 反对

capital n. money used to produce more wealth 资金

protest v. make a protest against an action or proposal 抗议;反对

dreadful adj. terrible, inspiring fear or awe 可怕的

bang v. shut noisily 用力关上

distrust v. have no trust or confidence in, doubt 不相信;怀疑

instantly adv. occurring immediately 立即;即刻

ideal adj. perfect, excellent 最好的

4.准备婚事

沃尔特·哈特里特先生离开的那天,我们都很难过。劳拉一整天呆在自己的房间里不出来,我的心情也很沉闷。可怜的吉尔摩先生肯定觉得那天很无聊。第二天早晨,劳拉从房间出来的时候,面容憔悴,像是病了一场。我觉得吉尔摩先生似乎很为她担心,我也为她担心。劳拉是个敏感而深情的人,她喜欢上沃尔特我一点儿也不觉得奇怪。其实,我自己也喜欢他。但是,我真心希望时间能够治愈劳拉的情伤。

沃尔特离开两天以后,珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士来了。他45岁,但看上去比实际年龄要年轻一些。他很英俊,稍有些秃顶,举止优雅,温和有礼。我尽力让自己对这个人产生好感。

下午,劳拉不在房里的时候,珀西瓦尔爵士提到了安妮·凯瑟里克的那封信。

“我看了吉尔摩先生给我律师的信,”他说,“我想跟你们好好地解释一下。凯瑟里克太太为我和我的家庭工作了许多年,她的婚姻很不幸,她丈夫抛弃了她,她的独生女精神有毛病,需要送进精神病院。所以,为了感谢凯瑟里克太太多年来的服务,我答应承担送她女儿去一家私立精神病院的所有费用。但不幸的是,女孩知道以后,就开始对我怀恨在心。她不久前从精神病院逃走了,我敢肯定是她出于对我的仇恨写了这封信。这太让人伤心了。”

吉尔摩先生认为这个解释非常令人满意,他说完看了看我,希望我也同意他的说法。可是,我有一种说不清的不安的感觉,犹豫了一会儿,没有说话。珀西瓦尔爵士立刻注意到了我的反应。

“哈尔库姆小姐,能否请你给凯瑟里克太太写封信,问问她这些是不是真的呢?”他非常客气地说。

我不想答应他的要求,但是又怎么好拒绝呢?拒绝只能把事情弄得越来越尴尬。于是,我走到桌旁,写了封短信,然后交给了珀西瓦尔。他看也没看就把信装进信封,写上了地址。

“好了,这件事就这样了,”他说,“请问安妮·凯瑟里克跟费尔利小姐或者你谈过吗?”

“没有。她只跟哈特里特先生谈过。”我告诉他。

“噢,是了,那位绘画教师,”他若有所思地说,“你们找到安妮·凯瑟里克的住处了吗?”

我跟他讲了农场的情况。

“找到她是我的责任,”他接着说,“明天我就去农场问问。”不一会儿,他就上楼回他的房间去了。

*  *  *

那天晚上以及第二天,珀西瓦尔爵士努力寻找一切机会同劳拉讲话,但劳拉一直心不在焉。珀西瓦尔去农场调查,结果一无所获。星期三凯瑟里克太太来信了,那是一封简短而又正式的信。信中感谢我给她写信,并且说珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我的都是事实。

为什么我还是有疑问呢?这封信对谁来讲都是充分的证据,可我还是很希望沃尔特·哈特里特先生能在这儿发表一下他的看法。应珀西瓦尔爵士的要求,我得向劳拉解释一下安妮·凯瑟里克来信的事情。她静静地听着,脸上毫无表情。我注意到她手边的桌上放着哈特里特先生的画册。我还得告诉她,珀西瓦尔爵士此行的目的是要确定他们结婚的日期。

“恐怕他会让你马上做决定,劳拉。”

“噢,不行,玛丽安!我不能!”她说,“请帮我问问他,恳求他再给我些时间。我保证年底以前给他最终的答复,但是现在不行,现在不行。”

珀西瓦尔爵士答应了这个要求。吉尔摩先生得知事情的经过后,准备同劳拉单独谈谈。

“我明天必须回伦敦去,”吉尔摩先生对我说,“走之前,我需要和费尔利小姐谈一下这桩婚事的财务问题。你知道,明年3月她21岁的时候,她会继承一大笔财产,我必须把这些都写进结婚协议中去,让协议既能反映费尔利小姐的愿望,也能令珀西瓦尔爵士接受。”

转天上午,吉尔摩先生和劳拉谈了话。下午,他动身去伦敦时,看上去忧心忡忡。不知道他们都说了些什么,我连忙赶去劳拉的房间。

“噢,玛丽安,快进来,我有话跟你说。”劳拉说。

“出了什么事,劳拉?是结婚协议的事吗?”

“不是。我简直没办法跟吉尔摩先生谈这件事。我真不好意思说出口,刚才我只是一个劲儿地哭,什么也没说。吉尔摩先生非常善良,玛丽安,他告诉我,他会帮我打理一切。我现在要告诉你的是,我再也受不了这种局面了,我必须结束这种状况。”

她的眼睛很亮,语气也很坚决。我感到有些害怕,“你想要做什么,亲爱的劳拉?你要解除同珀西瓦尔爵士的婚约吗?”

“不是的,”她回答,“我不能打破对父亲的承诺。但是,我要说出真话,我要告诉珀西瓦尔爵士我爱上了别人。”

“劳拉!他无权知道这件事!”我惊讶地说。

“我不能欺骗他,”她说,“我已经想好了。我把真相告诉他,让他决定该怎么办。”

我看着她纯洁、深情的眼神,一句话也说不出来。我伸手抱住她,尽量控制自己不哭出来。

“明天我就跟他说,你跟我去,好吗,玛丽安?”

我紧紧地抱着她,答应了她的请求——我也不清楚自己做的是对是错。我对什么都没了把握。我不明白为什么我没发觉她爱沃尔特·哈特里特爱得那么深。我第一次对她做出了错误的判断。现在我知道,她会一辈子爱着他。

*  *  *

第二天早晨发生的事让我一点儿也高兴不起来,可怜的沃尔特·哈特里特来信说他决定离开英国,问我能否帮他在国外找份工作。信后面的内容使我非常担心。他回伦敦以后,既没有见到安妮·凯瑟里克,也没有打听到她的任何消息,反而觉得有陌生人在盯他的梢。我担心他情绪不稳,赶忙给几个在伦敦的朋友写信,看他们能不能帮他在国外找到一份合适的工作。当然,劳拉对信的事一无所知。

珀西瓦尔爵士没有来同我们一起吃早餐,他捎话给我们说他会按约定11点来见我们。劳拉超乎寻常的冷静、镇定。我从未见她这样过,好像爱情使她更坚强了。

11点整,珀西瓦尔爵士敲门进来。他满脸紧张和不安。这次谈话将会决定他今后的生活,他显然非常清楚这一点。

“你可能会认为我是来请求与你解除婚约的,珀西瓦尔爵士,”劳拉冷静地说,“我不是来做这样的请求的,我非常尊重父亲的意愿。”

珀西瓦尔爵士的表情放松了一些,但我看到他的一只脚在紧张地敲打着地毯。

“我不会那样做的,如果我们两人要解除婚约的话,那一定是出于你的意愿,珀西瓦尔爵士,而不会是我的。”

“我的意愿?”他吃惊地说,“我能有什么理由解除婚约呢?”

“一个很难向你启齿的理由,我这里有了些变故。”劳拉回答。

珀西瓦尔的脸色变得煞白,双唇一点儿血色都没有。他把脸转向一侧。

“什么变故?”他尽量掩饰着自己的紧张。

“两年前约定婚事的时候,我的爱不属于任何人,”劳拉接着说,“如果我告诉你,珀西瓦尔爵士,我的爱现在属于另一个人,你会原谅我吗?”

她的眼泪流了下来。珀西瓦尔爵士用手捂住了脸,让人看不出他是怎么想的。他一句话也不说,我的直脾气可受不了了。

“珀西瓦尔爵士!”我大声问道,“你不想说点儿什么吗?你已经听到了本来你无权听到的事情。”

“可我并没有要求这权利。”他回避了我的问题。

“我想告诉你,”劳拉继续说,“我再也见不到那个人了。如果你和我分手,我会终身不嫁。我只请求你原谅我,并为我保守秘密。”

“两件事我都答应。”珀西瓦尔说完,看了看劳拉,似乎等着她再说些什么。

“我想我已经讲了足够的理由让你解除婚约。”劳拉平静地说。

“不,你说了这么多,我唯一的感觉是我一生最大的愿望就是同你结婚。”说着,他起身朝劳拉走过来。

劳拉惊讶得“咦”了一声,我倒是猜到了几分他会这么说。劳拉讲的每一句话都透出她的真诚和纯洁,但是这样良好的品德却毁掉了她解脱的希望。珀西瓦尔爵士很清楚,一个纯洁、真诚的女人是无价之宝。他为什么要放弃呢?

“我会尽一切所能去赢得你的爱,也许最终我会成功的。”珀西瓦尔说。

“永远也不会的!”劳拉看上去更美了,“我会是你忠实的妻子,但永远不会爱你。”

“这就足够了。我愿意接受你的忠贞和真诚。”说罢,他拿起劳拉的手吻了吻,然后默默地走出房间。

劳拉坐在那里一动不动,我伸出手搂住她。最后她开口道:“我必须退让,玛丽安。你给沃尔特写信时,不要告诉他我不开心。假如我比他先死了,你一定对他说,说我不能亲口对他说的话——我爱他!”

说完,她扑在沙发上放声痛哭,哭得好像心都碎了一样,最后她趴在那儿睡着了。

*  *  *

接下来的日子里,好像什么也阻止不了这桩不幸的婚姻。我力图让劳拉改变主意,但她却坚持要恪守诺言,履行义务。费尔利先生自然非常高兴,因为这场“家庭烦恼”终于画上了句号。他建议他的侄女越早结婚越好。这令我很气愤,但我把这话告诉劳拉后,她的平静反应倒让我吃了一惊。

“叔叔说的对,我给大家带来了太多麻烦。让珀西瓦尔爵士决定我们的结婚日期吧。”

珀西瓦尔爵士对此非常高兴,他离开庄园回汉普郡,准备迎接新娘。

我想换一个环境肯定对劳拉有好处,于是安排我们两人到约克郡的朋友那里呆一段时间。她同意了。我还给吉尔摩先生写了信,告诉他这桩婚事可以继续了。

第二天,我收到了沃尔特·哈特里特的来信,信中说我的朋友为他找到一份工作,要到中美洲长途旅行,他做随行的画家,11月21号动身,行程6个月。我衷心希望这是最好的安排。

劳拉和我动身前往约克郡。但是,刚刚在那里住了9天,我们就收到费尔利先生的信,让我们立即返回利默里奇。这意味着什么呢,我想不出。

一回来我就明白了。费尔利先生和珀西瓦尔爵士已经把婚礼的时间定在12月22日,就等劳拉点头同意了。费尔利先生问我可不可以说服劳拉同意这个日期,他本人神经不好,无法跟她谈。

我见到了我们的老朋友吉尔摩先生,他是来同费尔利先生谈有关结婚协议的事的。他当天就要离开庄园,着急想与我单独谈谈。

“哈尔库姆小姐,我对结婚协议中的财务安排非常不满意,”他对我说,“但是我一点儿办法也没有。我知道你多么爱你的妹妹,所以我认为你应该知道我为什么担心。

“你知道,”他接着说,“费尔利小姐继承的财产包括三部分。第一,费尔利先生死后,她会继承利默里奇的财产和土地以及由此产生的收入。如果她死后没有孩子,这份财产将转到她的一个亲戚名下,但财产的收入在她丈夫在世的时候将归他所有。如果她有个儿子,所有的财产和收入都归她的儿子。这一点没有任何问题。

“第二,明年3月费尔利小姐21岁的时候,她将得到10,000英镑的收入。如果费尔利小姐在她姑妈埃莉诺之前死去,这笔钱就归她姑妈,这当然不大可能。费尔利小姐的父亲之所以死的时候没有把这10,000英镑留给他的妹妹埃莉诺,是因为他强烈反对她嫁给一个外国人,虽然那个人是位意大利贵族,福斯科伯爵。”

“是的,劳拉跟我说过这件事。”我说。

“好吧,”吉尔摩先生接着说,“这一部分也没有问题。可是第三部分就不那么简单了。明年3月,她还将继承20,000英镑,这完全是属于她个人的一笔钱。如果她先于她丈夫死去,从这20,000英镑获得的收入将属于珀西瓦尔爵士,直至他去世;而这20,000英镑本金将归他们的孩子所有。假如没有孩子继承这笔钱,费尔利小姐死的时候,可以选择亲属或朋友继承。这是我的建议。但是,珀西瓦尔爵士的律师拒不接受这一点,他坚持认为,如果珀西瓦尔爵士死在他妻子后面,同时他们又没有孩子,珀西瓦尔就应该得到这笔钱。那样的话,费尔利家族的任何其他人,包括你在内,都得不到一分钱,哈尔库姆小姐。”

吉尔摩先生长叹了一口气,“我坚决反对这样。我极力争取,但还是无法让那位律师改变主意。我发现珀西瓦尔爵士长期欠债,急需现金。我最后的努力就是来这里试图说服费尔利先生反对珀西瓦尔爵士律师的要求,非常遗憾,我没有成功。对他侄女的这桩婚事费尔利先生什么也不想管。他说他侄女不会死在珀西瓦尔爵士前面的,又有什么可担心的呢?”

吉尔摩先生站起身,拿起帽子准备离开,“我会把协议拟好,并把它寄给你们。我没别的办法,我不这样做,费尔利先生也会再找一名律师这样做的。不过,我跟你说,哈尔库姆小姐,我是不会让我女儿根据我被迫为费尔利小姐准备的这样一份协议嫁人的。”

说完,他握了握我的手,一言不发地离开这里,去赶回伦敦的火车了。

吉尔摩先生走后,我尽量保持理智。费尔利先生是劳拉的监护人,如果他愿意接受这份协议,我做什么都无济于事。这是这桩可怕婚姻的又一个令人担忧的地方。现在更紧迫的事情是结婚日期。我把结婚的日期告诉劳拉以后,她的脸色立刻变白了,身体也开始发抖。

alt

“不要这么快!”她喊道,“噢,玛丽安,不要这么快!”

“好吧,那我去和费尔利先生说,”我这样说着,已经做好了为她去抗争的准备,“我会尽力去改变这个日期。”

“算了吧,”她有气无力地说,“一切都太晚了,玛丽安,太晚了!抗争只能带来更多的麻烦。去告诉我叔叔,我同意了。”

我要不是气愤至极,肯定就会哭出声来。我冲进费尔利先生的房间,大声喊道:“劳拉同意22日结婚!”——然后冲出去,很响地甩上门。但愿我能让他的神经一整天都不得安宁。

*  *  *

这以后,婚礼的准备工作开始了。整天都有裁缝进进出出;要收拾行李,做计划,进行各种安排。我们每天都能收到珀西瓦尔爵士的来信,他提议婚礼之后带劳拉到意大利住六个月,见一些珀西瓦尔的朋友,包括他最好的老朋友福斯科伯爵。福斯科伯爵的妻子当然就是劳拉的姑妈埃莉诺。这桩婚姻起码可以让劳拉和她的姑妈重逢,我这样想着。听起来伯爵本人倒是一个非常有趣的人,我也想有朝一日能见见他。

日子很快地过去了。珀西瓦尔爵士终于来了。他看上去有些疲倦和不安,但是有说有笑的仿佛世界上最幸福的男人就是他。他来的当天晚上去了村子里,打听是否有人知道安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。虽然没人给他提供什么消息,但我必须承认他继续寻求帮助她,这是善举。我决定努力改变对他不好的看法,说到底,我有什么理由不信任他呢?我相信如果真的努力尝试,我可能会喜欢他的。

喜欢他是很容易的。今天我同他说起劳拉与我的最大愿望——在劳拉结婚之后,我和她还能像以前一样住在一起。他立刻就答应了,而且很高兴能有这样的安排。他说我将是他妻子最理想、最合适的陪伴。是啊,我开始非常喜欢珀西瓦尔爵士了。

*  *  *

我恨珀西瓦尔爵士!他不善解人意,缺乏同情心,没有好心肠。昨天晚上,他跟劳拉耳语了些什么——劳拉不愿告诉我具体内容——她的脸色变得非常难看。而他却一点儿没在意。我以前对他所有的怀疑又出现了。现在,他是不是露出了他的本来面目?他变得比以往更加焦躁不安,经常言语尖刻,发脾气。我有个奇怪的想法,是不是会有什么事阻止这桩婚姻,而又非常害怕那样的结局。这是胡思乱想,我不能当真。

我们分别的日子一天天临近了,劳拉一刻也不肯离开我。为了她,我必须勇敢些,高兴起来。但是,我的担心没有消失。这桩婚姻会成为劳拉一生的大错吗?会成为我伤心、痛苦的根源吗?

*  *  *

22日到了。时间到了,不能再哭了。劳拉梳妆打扮完毕,我们要去教堂了。11点钟,婚礼就会结束。下午3点,他们就离开这里了。我已经哭得视线模糊,无法继续写下去了……

5
A document for signature

Six long, lonely months passed, and I had little to do but think of absent friends. I received a cheerful letter from Walter Hartright after he arrived in Honduras, and just before he set off with the expedition into the forest. Since then, I have heard nothing. There was no news of Anne Catherick or Mrs Clements. Poor Mr Gilmore fell very ill and had to give up work, but his business is continued by his partner, Mr Kyrle. Mrs Vesey has moved to London to live with her sister, and Mr Fairlie, I believe, is secretly delighted to have his house free of women.

Most of all, of course, I thought about Laura. Many letters came from her, but she said very little in them. She told me she was well, but hardly mentioned her husband, and wrote not a word about Count Fosco, whom they had met in Austria, not Italy. I understood from her silence that she did not like him. All she said was that her Aunt Eleanor, Madame Fosco, was quieter and more sensible than she had used to be.

*  *  *

On 11th June I arrived at Blackwater Park, Sir Percival's family home in Hampshire. The waiting was nearly over, and how happy I was! The next day Laura and her husband would return home, together with Count Fosco and his wife, who were going to spend the summer at Blackwater.

In the morning the housekeeper, Mrs Michelson, showed me round the house. It is very old, and much of it is dusty and unused; only one part of the enormous building is comfortable enough to live in.

Later I explored the gardens and the park. The gardens are small and not well kept, and there are so many trees that the house feels shut in by them. I found a path through the trees, which after half a mile brought me to a lake. It was a damp, lonely place. The still dark waters of the lake and the long shadows from the tall trees gave it a gloomy air. Near the lake there was an old boat-house with some seats in it, so I went in and sat down for a rest.

I am not a nervous person generally but when I heard the sound of quick breathing under my seat, I jumped to my feet in alarm. In fact, it was a dog — a small black and white dog, with a bullet wound in its side. I carried the poor creature back to the house and sent for Mrs Michelson to help me.

When she came in and saw the dog lying on the floor, she cried out at once, 'Oh! That must be Mrs Catherick's dog!'

'Whose?' I asked, amazed.

'Mrs Catherick's. Do you know her? She came here to ask for news of her daughter.'

'When?'

'Yesterday. She'd heard that her daughter Anne had been seen in the neighbourhood. But no one knew anything. I suppose the dog ran away into the woods and got shot by the park-keeper.'

I tried to make my voice sound politely interested. 'I suppose you've known Mrs Catherick for some years?'

'Oh no, Miss Halcombe, I never saw her before. She lives at Welmingham, twenty-five miles away. I had heard of her, because of Sir Percival paying for her daughter to go to an asylum. But yesterday, Mrs Catherick asked me not to mention her visit to Sir Percival. That was an odd thing to say, wasn't it, Miss?'

Odd, indeed! But then we had to turn our attention to the poor dog, which, despite our efforts, died a little while later. It was a sad thing to happen on my first day at Blackwater.

*  *  *

Later that evening the travellers returned. After my first happiness at meeting Laura, I felt there was a strangeness between us and I realized she had changed. I was sure we would soon get back to normal, but she had lost her innocent openness. She was unwilling to talk about her married life, and I saw that there were no warm feelings between her husband and her. It wasn't long before she asked me about Walter — 'Have you heard from him? Is he well and happy?' — and it was clear to me that she loved him as deeply as ever.

As for Sir Percival, his manners are sharper and less pleasant. On meeting me he simply said, 'Hello, Miss Halcombe. Glad to see you again,' — and then walked past me. Little things seem to annoy him a great deal. For example, the housekeeper told him a man had called to speak to him a week ago but had left no name. Sir Percival demanded a description of the man, which poor Mrs Michelson was unable to give, and Sir Percival stormed out of the room in great anger.

Laura was certainly right about Madame Fosco. Never have I seen such a change in a woman. As Eleanor Fairlie (aged thirty-seven), she wore bright clothes, was silly and foolish, and always talked nonsense. As Madame Fosco (aged forty-three), she wears only grey or black, and sits for hours in silence, doing needlework, rolling up cigarettes for the Count, or just looking at him with the eyes of a loyal dog.

And the man who has achieved this extraordinary change, the man who has tamed this wild Englishwoman? Yes, what can I say about the Count? He looks like a man who could tame anything. If he had married me, I would have made his cigarettes, as his wife does. I would have held my tongue when he looked at me, as she holds hers.

How can I explain the power, the attraction, the force that comes from this man? There are many unlikeable or unattractive things about him. For example, he is enormously fat; he seems to have false hair; he is at least sixty years old. He is lazy, jumps at the slightest sudden sound, and has a peculiar fondness for pet animals. He has brought with him a variety of birds and a whole family of white mice, which he often kisses and calls loving names, just as a child might do.

And yet, and yet... He is fat, but moves lightly and easily, like a dancer. There is a calmness and a strength about his smooth, unlined face, and his voice is persuasive, gentle, hard to resist. His knowledge of the English language is perfect and he is a well-known expert in chemical science. He speaks in baby language to his white mice, but he talks with intelligence and charm about books in every language, and brings to his conversation experience of life in half the capitals of Europe.

But it is his eyes that I shall always remember — his cold, clear, beautiful grey eyes, eyes which held such a frightening power that I shiver even now to think of it.

I could discover very little about his past from Sir Percival. I only learnt that he had not been to Italy for years; I wondered if this was for political reasons. It seemed he had saved Sir Percival from great danger in Rome once and they had been the closest of friends ever since. It was quite clear that Sir Percival was always anxious to please him and would never go against his wishes.

I wonder whether I am afraid of him too. I certainly never saw a man I would be more sorry to have as an enemy.

*  *  *

At lunchtime, a few days after they all returned, a man called Mr Merriman arrived, asking to see Sir Percival urgently. Sir Percival had clearly not expected the visit and looked both alarmed and angry as he left the table.

Neither Laura nor I had any idea who Mr Merriman was, but the Count told us he was Sir Percival's lawyer. I wondered what had happened, as a lawyer does not usually travel from London to Hampshire unless sent for. Mr Merriman must be the bringer of important news — either good or bad.

Count Fosco obviously read my thoughts and said softly to me, 'Yes, Miss Halcombe, something has happened.'

Later in the day I was coming from my room when I saw Sir Percival and his lawyer crossing the hall downstairs. They spoke quietly, but clearly enough for their words to reach my ears.

'Yes, Sir Percival,' I heard the lawyer say, 'it all depends on Lady Glyde.'

I immediately stopped when I heard Laura's name and, although I knew it was wrong, continued to listen.

'You understand, Sir Percival, Lady Glyde must sign her name in the presence of two witnesses. If this is done in a week's time, everything will be all right. If not, I may be able to get them to accept a document promising payment in three months. But how that money is to be obtained by then... '

They went into the library and I heard no more, but it seemed that Sir Percival had a serious debt and that the solution to it depended on Laura. I immediately went to tell Laura what I had heard. She did not seem surprised.

'I was afraid of something like this,' she said, 'when I heard about that strange gentleman who called, without leaving his name. He had probably come to ask for his money. But don't worry, Marian. I won't sign anything that I might later regret.'

In the evening Sir Percival was unusually polite and pleasant to all of us. What did this mean? I thought I could guess — I was afraid Laura could guess — and I was sure Count Fosco knew. I saw Sir Percival looking at him for approval more than once during the evening. The Count was certainly aware of Sir Percival's financial problems.

The next morning Sir Percival asked Count Fosco, Laura, and myself if we would go to the library for a minute after lunch for a small business matter. Before lunch, however, we all went for a walk to the lake, stopping at the boat-house for a rest.

'Some people call the lake pretty,' said Sir Percival, pointing to the view. 'I call it ugly. It looks just the place for a murder, doesn't it? What do you think, Fosco?'

'My dear Percival,' the Count protested, 'the water is too shallow to hide a body. Only a fool would murder someone here. A wise man would choose somewhere else.'

'Wise men do not murder,' said Laura, looking at him with dislike. 'I am sure you cannot give me an example of a wise man who has been a criminal.'

'My dear lady,' said the Count, 'it is impossible to give an example, because a wise man's crime is never found out.'

As he spoke, he was playing with his white mice in their little cage, and suddenly noticed that one of them was missing. A few seconds later he found the little animal under a seat, but also found something which seemed to shock him.

'Percival,' he said, 'come here. Look at this in the sand. Blood!'

Everyone seemed alarmed, so I had to explain about the wounded dog I had found.

'Whose dog was it?' asked Sir Percival.

'The housekeeper said it was Mrs Catherick's dog,' I replied, remembering too late that the visit was meant to be kept secret.

'What the devil was Mrs Catherick doing here?'

This question came with such rudeness and anger that I turned away. Count Fosco laid his hand on Sir Percival's arm.

'My dear Percival! Gently, gently!'

To my great surprise, Sir Percival apologized to me, and Count Fosco then said, 'Why not question the housekeeper, Percival, since she seems to know all about it?'

Sir Percival took the point, and immediately left us to return to the house.

The Count seemed fascinated by Mrs Catherick and wanted to know all about her visit. I tried to say as little as possible, but Laura asked questions too, and in the end the Count knew as much as we did about Mrs Catherick and her daughter Anne. I was quite sure, from his surprise at the story, that the Count had known nothing of Anne Catherick, and uneasily I wondered why Sir Percival had not told his closest friend.

When we went back to the house, Sir Percival came to greet us. 'I am sorry to say I have to leave you. I have to drive a long way and won't be back until tomorrow. First, though, I would like to finish that little business matter. Will you come into the library? It won't take a minute.'

In the library he got a document out of a cupboard and put it on the table. It was folded in such a way that all the writing was hidden and only the places to sign were visible.

Handing a pen to Laura, he said, 'Sign there. You and Fosco are to sign afterwards, Miss Halcombe.'

'What do you want me to sign?' Laura asked quietly.

'I have no time to explain. I have to leave. It's just business,' he said angrily. 'Women don't understand business. Just sign it.'

'But surely I ought to know what I am signing.'

'I see. So you're saying you don't trust me! Is that it? What kind of a wife is that?'

To help Laura, I said, 'I am afraid I cannot be a witness if she doesn't understand what she is signing.'

Sir Percival turned to me furiously. 'How dare you! You're a guest in my house and you take my wife's side against me!'

'Control your unfortunate temper, Percival,' said the Count, and I heard him whisper to him, 'You idiot!'

But Laura had put the pen down and moved to my side.

'Lady Glyde is right,' the Count then said. 'Let the signature wait until tomorrow.'

Sir Percival swore at him, but moved away from the table.

'All right, then,' he said, 'until tomorrow. Anyway, I have to go. But you will sign tomorrow or —' He gave his wife a cold, hard stare, then went out.

As Laura and I moved to the door, the Count approached us. 'You have just seen Sir Percival at his worst,' he said. 'As his old friend, I apologize for him and promise he won't behave like that tomorrow.'

I had begun to realize that I could not hope to remain at Blackwater Park now without the influence and support of the Count, so I answered by thanking him warmly. Then I led Laura out and took her up to my room for a rest.

While we were there, she told me how cruel Sir Percival had been to her since their marriage and how unhappy she was. I tried to calm her and to find a solution to the problem of the signature. Suddenly I had the idea of writing to Mr Gilmore's partner, Mr Kyrle, and asking for his advice. In my letter I also asked him to get a messenger to bring the reply by one o'clock the next day. I then put the letter in the post-bag in the hall. Just at that moment Madame Fosco appeared and asked to speak to me in the garden. She spoke to me for a full half-hour about how much sympathy she had for me. I found this very odd indeed since she had shown very little interest in me before.

When I finally returned, I saw the Count also putting a letter in the post-bag. For some reason I decided to check my letter was properly closed, so I got it out of the bag. This was lucky, as I found the envelope had come open. How strange, I thought. Perhaps there had been something wrong with it...

Or perhaps...

No! There could be no other explanation.


absent adj. not present 不在场的

free of not containing or subject to 没有

enormous adj. very large, huge 非常大的

gloomy adj. dismal, depressing 阴暗的;阴郁的

creature n. an animal 动物

neighbourhood n. the surrounding area 附近

odd adj. extraordinary, strange 反常的;奇怪的

storm v. move violently or angrily 气愤地走

tame v. make tame 驯服

hold one's tongue be silent 不说话

enormously adv. very, quite 非常

frightening adj. terrifying 使人害怕的

go against be contrary to 反对

urgently adv. requiring immediate action or attention 急迫地

obtain v. acquire, secure 得到;获得

library n. a room containing a collection of books 书房

aware adj. conscious or having knowledge 清楚;知道

murder n. killing unlawfully with a premeditated motive 谋杀

rudeness n. being impolite or offensive 无礼

fascinated adj. showing great interest in 非常感兴趣的

fold v. bend or close something over upon itself 折叠

furiously adv. extremely angry 极度气愤地

swear v. use indecent language 骂人

stare n. a staring gaze

messenger n. a person who carries a message 信使

properly adv. fittingly; suitably 适当地

5.需要签字的文件

漫长、孤寂的六个月过去了。除去思念不在身边的朋友们,我无所事事。我收到一封沃尔特·哈特里特的来信,是他到达洪都拉斯,进入林地之前写的。从那以后,他就没有了任何消息。安妮·凯瑟里克和克莱门茨太太没有任何音信。可怜的吉尔摩先生病得很厉害,不得不停止工作。他的工作由他的合伙人克尔先生代理。维西太太搬到了伦敦,和她妹妹住在一起。我想费尔利先生一定暗自高兴这庄园里没有了女人。

我最思念的当然是劳拉。她来过许多信,但是内容都非常简单。她说她挺好的,却只字不提她丈夫,也不提福斯科伯爵。他们是在奥地利相见的,而不是在意大利。从她的沉默我看得出,她不喜欢他。她只是说到埃莉诺姑妈,就是福斯科夫人,比以前话少了,也更理智了。

*  *  *

6月11日,我来到布莱克沃特庄园,珀西瓦尔爵士在汉普郡的家。等待终于快结束了,我异常兴奋。第二天,劳拉同她丈夫就要回来了,一同来的还有福斯科伯爵夫妇,他们要在布莱克沃特度过这个夏天。

早上,管家米切尔森太太领我参观了房子。这是一幢很古老的房子,多处是厚厚的尘土,没有人住。偌大的房子只有一部分还比较舒适,可以住人。

之后,我去看了看花园和园林。花园很小,维护得也不好。这周围树木非常多,遮蔽了房子。我发现了树林中的一条小路,沿着小路走了半英里之后是一个湖。这是一个潮湿僻静的地方。平静漆黑的湖水和长长的树影使这里笼上了一层阴暗、凄凉的色彩。湖的附近有一个破旧的船屋,里面有几个座位,我走进去坐下休息。

我并不是一个胆小的人,但是听见座位底下传来急促的喘息声,我还是惊得一下子跳了起来。其实,那是只狗——一只黑白相间的小狗,身子的一侧有子弹的伤痕。我把可怜的小东西带回房子里,叫来米切尔森太太帮我。

米切尔森太太进来看见地上躺着的小狗,马上大声说:“噢,这一定是凯瑟里克太太的狗!”

“是谁的狗?”我非常吃惊地问。

“凯瑟里克太太的。你认识她吗?她来这里打听过她女儿的消息。”

“什么时候?”

“就是昨天。她听说有人在附近看见过她女儿安妮。可是没人知道这件事。我想这条狗可能跑到树林里去,让看林人给打了。”

我尽量让自己听起来不是过分好奇,“你是不是认识凯瑟里克太太好多年了?”

“噢,也不是,哈尔库姆小姐。我以前没见过她。她住在离这里25英里远的韦明翰。我听说过她,因为珀西瓦尔爵士出钱送她女儿去精神病院。但是昨天,凯瑟里克太太让我别跟珀西瓦尔爵士讲她来过的事。这有点儿怪,是吧,小姐?”

奇怪,的确奇怪!但是,我们得把注意力集中到那只小狗身上,虽然我们尽力挽救,没过多久它还是死了。我第一天到布莱克沃特就发生了一件令人伤心的事。

*  *  *

当天晚上,旅行者们都回来了。我见到劳拉的高兴劲儿刚过,就觉得我们之间有一种奇怪的感觉,我意识到她变了。我相信,我们之间很快就会像从前一样。但是她好像失去了原来的纯真和坦诚。她不愿谈自己的婚后生活,而且我发现她同她丈夫之间毫无亲密可言。她很快就向我问起沃尔特:“你收到他的信了吗?他好吗?”显而易见,她还在深深地爱着他。

至于珀西瓦尔爵士,他的脾气变得越发暴躁,越发不讨人喜欢。见到我,他只是简单地说了声“你好,哈尔库姆小姐。很高兴又见到你。”然后就从我身边走过去了。一点点小事也会让他大为恼火。举个例子,米切尔森太太告诉他一个星期前有个男人来找他,但没有留下姓名。珀西瓦尔爵士问那人什么模样,可怜的米切尔森太太说不上来,于是珀西瓦尔爵士勃然大怒,气急败坏地走出房间。

关于福斯科夫人,劳拉说得很对。我从未见过哪个女人身上会发生如此大的变化。她是埃莉诺·费尔利小姐的时候(当时她37岁),经常穿鲜亮的衣服,说傻话,做傻事。她成了福斯科夫人以后(现在她43岁),只穿灰色和黑色的衣服,而且经常几个小时坐在那里一声不吭地做针线,给伯爵卷烟或者像一条忠诚的狗一样望着伯爵。

那么,那个导致了如此变化,驯服了这么一个桀骜不驯的英国女人的男人呢?对,我该怎么描述伯爵呢?他好像可以驯服一切。假如他娶了,我也会像他妻子一样给他卷烟,我也会像她一样被他看一眼就闭上嘴。

我应该怎么解释这个男人的魔力、魅力和影响呢?其实,他身上有许多不招人喜欢的地方。比方说,他体形肥胖,似乎还戴假发,而且少说也有60岁了。他人很懒,听到任何一点儿响动都会跳起来,还特别爱养宠物。他带来各种各样的鸟和一大窝白鼠。他就像小孩子一样,时常亲吻这些宠物,用昵称叫它们。

可是,可是……他身体肥胖,但动作像舞蹈演员一样轻巧灵便。他的脸很光滑,没有皱纹;表情沉稳庄重。他的声音很柔和,有一种难以抵挡的魅力。他精通英语,还是个化学家。他用儿语对白鼠讲话,但是谈到用任何语言写作的书籍,他都睿智机敏,滔滔不绝。他到过一半欧洲国家的首都。他经常谈起在那些城市的经历。

但让我铭记在心的是他的眼睛——一双冷酷、明亮、好看的灰眼睛。他的眼睛有一种慑人的威力,我现在想起来还会打哆嗦。

关于他的过去,我从珀西瓦尔爵士那儿知道的很少。我只知道他很多年没回意大利了,不知道是不是由于政治原因。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士在罗马遇到大难,伯爵帮助他脱离了危险。从那以后,他们成了密友。很明显,珀西瓦尔爵士总是力图讨好伯爵,从不跟他对着干。

我不知道自己是不是也害怕他。但是,他是我所见过的人中我最不愿与之成为敌人的。

*  *  *

他们旅行回来几天后,吃午饭的时候,一个叫梅里曼的人来了,要求马上见珀西瓦尔爵士。看得出,珀西瓦尔没想到这个人会来,他起身出去的时候显得既吃惊又生气。

劳拉和我都不知道梅里曼先生是何许人。伯爵告诉我们他是珀西瓦尔爵士的律师。我不知道出了什么事,因为除了被唤而来,律师是不会从伦敦到汉普郡来的。梅里曼先生一定带来了什么重要消息——不管是好消息还是坏消息。

福斯科伯爵显然看出了我的心事,轻声对我说:“没错,哈尔库姆小姐,确实出事了。”

后来,我从房里出来,看见珀西瓦尔爵士和律师正穿过楼下的大厅。他们说话的声音很低,但还是清晰地传进我的耳朵里。

“是的,珀西瓦尔爵士,”我听见律师说,“一切都取决于格莱德夫人了。”

听到劳拉的名字,我马上停住了脚步。我知道这样做不好,但还是接着往下听。

“你知道,珀西瓦尔爵士,格莱德夫人必须在两个证人在场的情况下签字,只要这件事在一星期之内办妥,一切都好说。如果不行,我可以准备一份文件,向他们保证三个月后付款。可是,三个月后怎么能弄到钱呢……?”

他们走进书房,下面的话我听不见了。好像珀西瓦尔爵士欠了一大笔债,而还债就取决于劳拉。我立即把刚刚听到的消息告诉了劳拉,她看上去一点儿也不惊讶。

“我料到会出这种事,”劳拉说,“在我听说来了一位没有留下姓名的陌生人时,我就料到了。那人很可能是来要钱的。不过别怕,玛丽安,任何今后我可能后悔的文件,我都不会签的。”

那天晚上,珀西瓦尔爵士对我们大家异乎寻常地客气。这说明什么呢?我想我能猜出来——劳拉也能猜出来——而且我敢肯定福斯科伯爵清楚其中的奥秘。我注意到珀西瓦尔有好几次都用眼神征求伯爵的意见。伯爵肯定清楚珀西瓦尔爵士的经济困境。

第二天早上,珀西瓦尔爵士让福斯科伯爵、劳拉还有我午饭后到书房来一下,谈一点事情。午饭前我们一同散步来到了湖边,在船屋里歇脚。

“有人说这湖很美,”珀西瓦尔爵士指着周围的景色说,“我觉得它很丑,像个发生凶案的地方,不是吗?你觉得呢,福斯科?”

“我亲爱的珀西瓦尔,”伯爵反对道,“这里的水太浅了,根本藏不住尸体,只有傻子才在这里谋杀。聪明人会选择别的地方。”

“聪明人不会去杀人的,”劳拉一面说着,一面不高兴地看着伯爵,“我相信你找不出一个聪明人犯罪的例子。”

“亲爱的夫人,”伯爵说,“我可找不出例子,因为聪明人犯罪不会让人知道。”

伯爵一边说着,一边摆弄着小笼子里的白鼠。他突然发现少了一只,但很快在一个座位底下找到了它,同时还发现了让他大吃一惊的东西。

“珀西瓦尔,快过来。你看这沙子,上面有血!”他说。

大家都很吃惊,我不得不告诉他们我发现那只受伤的狗的事情。

“谁的狗?”珀西瓦尔爵士问。

“管家说是凯瑟里克太太的。”我回答,忽然想起来这应该是秘密,可是太晚了。

“凯瑟里克太太到这儿来干什么?”

珀西瓦尔问得既气愤又无礼,我转过身去。福斯科伯爵拍了拍珀西瓦尔的胳膊。

“亲爱的珀西瓦尔!别着急,别着急!”

出乎我的意料,珀西瓦尔给我道了歉。伯爵接着说:“为什么不问问管家呢,珀西瓦尔?她好像知道事情的来龙去脉。”

珀西瓦尔爵士接受了这个建议,马上告辞回了庄园。

伯爵似乎对凯瑟里克太太非常感兴趣,想了解她那次来的所有情况。我尽量少透露信息,可是劳拉也问这问那。最后,我们知道的关于凯瑟里克太太以及她女儿安妮的情况,伯爵全都知道了。从伯爵惊讶的表情我可以断定,在这之前他对安妮·凯瑟里克一无所知。我很纳闷,为什么珀西瓦尔爵士不告诉他的好朋友这些事。

我们回到庄园,珀西瓦尔爵士过来同我们打招呼,“很抱歉,我得跟大家告辞。我要赶很长一段路,明天才能回来。不过,我想走之前了结那件小事。到书房来好吗?一会儿就好。”

来到书房,他从柜子里取出一份文件放到桌子上。文件是叠起来的,文字部分都遮住了,只能看见签字的部分。

他把一支笔递给劳拉,说:“在这儿签字吧。哈尔库姆小姐,你和福斯科等会儿再签。”

alt

“你要我签的是什么文件?”劳拉平静地问。

“我没时间解释,我得走了,就是一份公文,”珀西瓦尔很不高兴地说,“你们女人不懂,你就签字吧。”

“我当然有理由知道我签的是什么。”

“我明白了,你的意思是你不信任我!对吗?这叫什么妻子?”

我站在劳拉一边,说:“如果她不知道签的是什么,那我恐怕无法做证人。”

珀西瓦尔爵士愤怒地转向我,“你好大的胆子!你是我的客人,可却站在我妻子一边同我作对!”

“控制一下你的臭脾气,珀西瓦尔,”伯爵说,我听他对珀西瓦尔耳语:“你这笨蛋!”

劳拉放下笔,走到我身旁。

“格莱德夫人说的对,”伯爵说,“签字的事明天再说吧。”

珀西瓦尔爵士朝他破口大骂,但还是走开了。

“那好吧,”珀西瓦尔说,“那就等明天。不管怎样,我现在得走了。但是,你明天必须签字,否则——”他恶狠狠地瞪了他妻子一眼,然后走出了房间。

劳拉和我往外走的时候,伯爵走了过来。“你们刚才看到了珀西瓦尔爵士脾气最差的样子,”他说,“作为他的老朋友,我替他道歉。我保证他明天不会这样了。”

我开始明白,现在要是没有伯爵的帮助,我是不大可能接续呆在布莱克沃特庄园的。我真心地感谢了他。然后,我拉着劳拉上楼,到我的房间休息一会儿。

在我的房间里,劳拉告诉我结婚后珀西瓦尔爵士对待她多么冷酷,她多么不开心。我努力安慰她,帮她想办法解决签字的问题。忽然,我想到了给吉尔摩先生的合伙人克尔先生写信,问问他的意见。我在信里叫他派一个信使第二天1点之前把回信带过来。写完后,我把信放到了大厅的邮袋里。就在这时,福斯科夫人走过来,约我到花园里谈谈。她跟我足足说了半个小时她有多么同情我。我觉得非常奇怪,因为她以前根本就不在意我。

我回到屋里,看到福斯科伯爵也在往邮袋里放信。不知出于什么原因,我决定查看一下我的信是不是封好了。于是,我把我的那封信拿了出来。我还真做对了,我发现信封是开着的。好奇怪呀,我心里想。也许有人在捣鬼……

也许……

没错!不会是别的原因。

6
An appointment by the lake

After dinner that evening, Laura and I went for a walk down to the lake. The atmosphere was gloomy and depressing, but at least we were alone.

'I want to have no secrets from you, Marian,' Laura said, 'but I'm sure you have already guessed what my married life is like. Sir Percival said such cruel things to me in Italy that I turned for comfort to my memories of those happy days with Walter Hartright. And I have to tell you, Marian, Sir Percival now knows that Walter is the man I loved.'

I stared at her, and what little hope I had left began to die.

'It was at a party in Rome. Some people from London said I should have drawing lessons and recommended a Mr Hartright. I could not control myself when I heard his name and my husband noticed. "So it was him, was it?" he said, with a horrible smile. "Well, we will see about Mr Hartright. You will be sorry, and so will he, to the end of your lives." And Marian, he uses this knowledge like a whip to punish me, day in, day out.'

'Oh, Laura!' I said, putting my arms around her. This was my fault — yes, my fault! I remembered the white despair of Walter's face as I told him to leave, as I tore these two young hearts apart. And I had done this for Sir Percival Glyde.

For Sir Percival Glyde.

*  *  *

It was growing dark when we set out for home, and as we left Laura seized my arm. 'Marian, look!'

By the lake was a dark figure, half hidden by the evening mist rising off the water. We began to walk quickly.

'I'm sure it's following us,' whispered Laura. 'Is it a man or a woman?' She was shaking with fear.

'It's hard to tell in this light,' I said, then called out, 'Who's there?' There was no answer.

We hurried back through the wood, and when we reached home, I sent Laura upstairs and went to find out where everyone was. The Count and his wife, the servants, the housekeeper — all were inside. The figure by the lake was no one from the house. So who could it have been?

The next day Laura discovered she had lost her bracelet and thought she must have dropped it near the lake. She went off to look for it while I waited for the messenger from Mr Kyrle.

One o'clock came. By now I was so suspicious of everyone in the house that I decided to slip out and meet the messenger myself. Taking great care not to be seen, I went down to the main gate and a little way along the road. Soon a cab appeared. I stopped it and said, 'Are you going to Blackwater Park?'

A man put his head out and said, 'Yes, with a letter for Miss Halcombe.'

'You may give the letter to me,' I said. 'I am Miss Halcombe.'

I read the letter quickly.


Dear Miss Halcombe — Your letter has caused me great anxiety. It seems very likely that Lady Glyde's signature is needed so that a Loan of all or part of her £20,000 can be made to Sir Percival. This is almost certainly illegal, and Lady Glyde should not sign any document until I have examined it first.

Sincerely, William Kyrle.


I read this very thankfully and told the messenger to say that I understood the letter. As I spoke these words, Count Fosco came round the corner and suddenly appeared in front of me. Completely taken by surprise, I stared at him speechlessly. The messenger drove away in his cab, and the Count took my arm to walk home with me.

He talked pleasantly of this and that, and asked no questions about letters or messengers, so I assumed he had found out everything. He must have read my letter, returned it to the post-bag, and now knew that I had received an answer. There was no point in trying to deceive him so I said nothing, and just tried to seem quite cool and calm.

Back at the house we found that Sir Percival had returned, in an even worse mood than before, it seemed. When I told him Laura was out looking for her bracelet, he growled,

'Bracelet or no bracelet, I shall expect to see her in the library in half an hour.'

I turned to go into the house, but behind me heard the Count saying to Sir Percival, 'May I have five minutes' talk with you, here on the grass?'

They walked off together and I went inside to the sitting room, to think over all that had happened. Before long, however, the door opened softly and the Count looked in.

'Good news, Miss Halcombe,' he said. 'The business of the signature is put off for the moment. I'm sure you are relieved.'

He went out before I had recovered from my amazement. There could be no doubt that this change was due to his influence. His discovery of my writing to London and receiving an answer had caused him to interfere. Now there was even more to think about but, exhausted by worry and the heat of the day, my eyes closed and I fell into a little sleep.

I woke to find Laura's hand on my shoulder.

'Marian! The figure at the lake. I've just spoken to her! It's Anne Catherick. Look, she found my bracelet.'

Still half asleep, I stared at her stupidly. 'Anne Catherick?'

'Yes! I was searching in the boat-house,' Laura went on, 'when a woman in a white dress came in and said quietly, "Miss Fairlie. I have your bracelet. Your mother would not want you to lose it. "I jumped up, but her voice was so kind that I wasn't afraid. I asked her how she knew my mother. She said her name was Anne Catherick and asked me if I remembered as a little girl walking with her and my mother to the school in Limmeridge one day. I did remember. Suddenly I saw that we were like each other, but her face was pale and thin and tired. It was how my face might look after a long illness. "Why do you call me Miss Fairlie?" I asked, and she answered, "Because I love the name of Fairlie and hate the name of Glyde."'

'Did she say anything about your husband?' I asked.

'She said that after she wrote the letter, she did not have the courage to stay in Limmeridge to try to prevent my marriage to him. She was afraid he would find her and shut her up in the asylum again. But she was not afraid any more because she was so ill she thought she was dying. Then, Marian, she said that she and her mother knew a secret that my husband was afraid of.'

'Yes? Go on!' I said eagerly. 'What secret?'

'She was just going to tell me, when she thought she heard a noise outside. "We are not alone," she said, "someone is watching. Come here tomorrow at this time and I will tell you." Then she pushed me to one side and disappeared.'

'Oh, Laura, Laura, another chance lost! But you must keep the appointment tomorrow. It seems so important. I will follow you at a safe distance. She must not escape this time.'

We were silent for a time. Then Laura said anxiously, 'Why hasn't Sir Percival called us to the library to sign the document?'

'Oh yes! I forgot to tell you,' I said. 'Thanks to Count Fosco, the business of the signature has been postponed.'

'But why?' Laura said, amazed. 'If Sir Percival urgently needs money, how can it be postponed?'

'I heard Sir Percival's lawyer mention a second plan — to give a document promising payment in three months.'

'Oh, Marian!' she said. 'That would be such a relief.'

'Yes, it would. Let's hope that it's true.'

That evening Sir Percival was polite, even pleasant, especially to Laura. This must have been due to the Count's influence, and it worried me. What lay behind it? I was sure that Sir Percival's sudden journey yesterday had been to Welmingham, to question Mrs Catherick. What had he learnt? What were his plans? As the evening passed, I grew more and more uneasy, and I went to bed feeling very anxious about what the next day would bring.

*  *  *

I was not wrong to be anxious. The next day Laura and I arranged that after lunch she would go alone to the boat-house, and that I would follow a little later, taking great care that Anne Catherick did not see me, in case she was frightened by the appearance of another stranger.

Sir Percival had gone out earlier in the morning and did not appear even for lunch, so it was quite easy to put our plan into action. However, when I came quietly up to the back of the boat-house, I heard no voices, no sounds of movement, nothing. Soon I was searching inside the boat-house, and softly calling Laura's name. But no one answered and no one appeared. Outside, I searched the ground for signs, and found the footprints of two people in the sand — big footprints like a man's and small footprints, which I was sure were Laura's. There was also a little hole in the sand by the wall of the boat-house.

Desperate with worry, I hurried back to the house. The first person I met was Mrs Michelson, the housekeeper.

'Do you know,' I asked, 'whether Lady Glyde has come in?'

'Yes, she has, Miss Halcombe. And I am afraid something unfortunate has happened. Lady Glyde ran upstairs in tears and Sir Percival has told me to dismiss her servant, Fanny.'

My heart sank. Fanny was Laura's personal servant from Limmeridge, and the only person in the house we both trusted.

I ran upstairs to Laura's room. Her door was shut, and there was one of Sir Percival's house servants standing in front of it.

'Move away,' I said. 'Don't you see that I want to go in?'

'But you mustn't go in,' she answered. 'I have my orders.'

Wild with anger, I turned and went downstairs to find Sir Percival. He was in the library with the Count and Countess.

'Am I to understand that your wife's room is a prison?' I asked, staring him full in the face.

'Yes, that is what you are to understand,' he answered.

'Take care how you treat your wife!' I shouted furiously. 'There are laws to protect women, and I will use those laws.'

Instead of answering me, he turned to the Count. The Count looked at me with his calm, cold, grey eyes. But it was the Countess who spoke.

'Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Percival,' she said suddenly. 'But I cannot remain in a house where ladies are treated as your wife and Miss Halcombe have been treated today!'

Sir Percival stared at her in shocked silence, knowing, as I did, she would not have said this without the Count's permission.

'I agree with my wife,' the Count said quietly.

Sir Percival swore, then whispered angrily, 'All right, have your own way.' With these words he left the room.

'We have made the worst-tempered man in England see reason,' said the Count. 'Thanks to your courage, Miss Halcombe, this insulting situation is now ended.'

I tried to speak normally, but could not. The Count left the library, then returned a few minutes later to say that Lady Glyde had the freedom of her own house again. Immediately I rushed upstairs to Laura's room. She was alone inside and I was in such a hurry that I did not close the door properly behind me.

'Marian!' she said thankfully. 'How did you get here?'

'It was the Count's influence, of course,' I said.

'That horrible man!' she cried. 'He's a miserable spy!'

Just then we heard a knock on the door. It was the Countess, bringing me a handkerchief I had dropped. Her face was white, and I saw in her eyes that she had been listening at the door.

'Oh, Laura,' I said when she had gone, 'you shouldn't have called the Count a spy. We shall both regret it.'

'But he is a spy, Marian! There was someone watching me at the lake yesterday, and it was him. He told Sir Percival, who watched and waited all morning for me and Anne Catherick. But she didn't come — I found a note from her hidden in a hole in the sand. She said she'd been followed yesterday by a fat old man. He hadn't caught her, but she was afraid to come back this afternoon. She hid this note very early in the morning, and said she would see me again soon to tell me Sir Percival's secret.'

'What happened to the note?' I said. 'Have you got it?'

'No. While I was reading it, Sir Percival appeared. He took it from me and demanded to hear everything Anne Catherick had said. He held my arm so tightly! — look, see how he's bruised it. What could I do, Marian? I was helpless! I told him everything.'

I looked at the bruises on Laura's arm, and felt such furious hatred for Sir Percival that I dared not speak.

'But he didn't believe me,' Laura went on. 'He said he knew she had told me more and that he would lock me up until I had confessed the truth. Then he took me back to the house, gave orders for Fanny to leave, and locked me in my room. Oh, Marian, he was like a madman! What are we to do?'

'He is mad — mad with fear. He thinks you know his secret,' I said. 'I must act now to protect you — who knows how long I will be allowed to stay here?' I thought hard for a few minutes. 'I will write two letters and give them to Fanny to take with her. I can't trust the post-bag here any more. One for Mr Kyrle, telling him of your bruises and Sir Percival's violent behaviour.'

'And who is the other letter for?' asked Laura anxiously.

'For Mr Fairlie,' I said. 'Your lazy, selfish uncle. I'll make him invite you for a visit to Limmeridge, without your husband.'

I left her then and went to my room to write the letters. Fanny had already gone and was staying the night in the little hotel in the village, before beginning the long journey to Cumberland the next day. I decided I had time before dinner to walk to the village and back, so I slipped quietly out of the house and set off.

From time to time I looked behind me. Was I being followed? Or was my imagination playing tricks on me? By now I was suspicious of everything — every tiny sound, every shadow on the road, every breath of wind. Earlier, while writing the letters, I thought I had heard the rustle of a silk dress outside my door. I had even wondered if someone had been in my room, looking through the things in my desk. I hurried on, trying to put these thoughts out of my mind.

When I got to the little hotel, I saw Fanny in her room. She was very upset at leaving Laura, and started crying, but stopped when I told her that Lady Glyde and I needed her help.

'Here are two letters,' I said. 'Post the one addressed to Mr Kyrle in London tomorrow, and deliver the other to Mr Fairlie yourself when you get home to Limmeridge. Keep them safe!'

Fanny put the letters down the front of her dress. 'They'll stay there, miss,' she said, 'till I've done what you tell me.'


day in, day out one day after another 一天又一天地

seize v. take hold of forcibly or suddenly 紧紧抓住

illegal adj. contrary to law 不合法的

assume v. take or accept as being true, without proof 推想

growl v. murmur angrily 咕哝

put off postpone 推迟

exhaust v. use up the strength or resources of a person 筋疲力尽

postpone v. put off 推迟

footprint n. the impression left by a foot or shoe 脚印;鞋印

dismiss v. discharge from employment 辞退

hospitality n. the friendly and generous reception or entertainment of guests or strangers 热情款待

insulting adj. offending one self-respect or modesty 侮辱性的

bruise v. inflict a bruise on 使受淤伤

selfish adj. deficient in consideration for others 自私的

breath n. slight movement of air 轻风

6.湖畔之约

那天晚饭后,劳拉和我散步来到湖边。周围的环境昏暗而压抑,但至少我们可以单独在一起。

“我不愿对你有任何秘密,玛丽安,”劳拉开口说,“但是,我相信你已经猜到我婚后的生活是什么样子。在意大利,珀西瓦尔爵士跟我说了很多恶毒的话,我只能借助回忆同沃尔特·哈特里特在一起的幸福时光来寻求安慰。我得告诉你,玛丽安,珀西瓦尔爵士现在已经知道沃尔特是我所爱的人了。”

我的眼睛紧盯着她,心中仅存的一线希望也开始泯灭了。

“那是在罗马的一次聚会上,几个从伦敦来的朋友说我应该学学绘画,并向我推荐哈特里特先生。听到他的名字,我无法控制自己的感情,这些被我丈夫看到了。‘就是他,对吗?’他狞笑着问我,‘哈特里特先生的事我们走着瞧。你和他都会后悔一辈子的。’玛丽安,他抓住这件事一天又一天地折磨我。”

“噢,劳拉!”我搂住她。这都是我的错——是的,是我的错!我还记得我告诉沃尔特必须离开的时候,他脸上那惨淡绝望的表情。是我把两颗相爱的心拆开了。我这样做却成全了珀西瓦尔爵士。

成全了珀西瓦尔爵士。

*  *  *

天黑了下来,我们开始往回走。劳拉突然抓住我的胳膊,“玛丽安,你看!”

湖边有一个黑影,傍晚水面上升起的雾气遮住了我们的视线。我们开始加快脚步。

“我敢肯定有人跟踪我们,”劳拉低声说,“是男的还是女的?”她害怕得浑身发抖。

“在这样的光线里看不清,”我回答,然后大声喊道,“谁在那儿?”没有反应。

我们很快地穿过树林,回到家里。我把劳拉送上楼,然后就去查看家里的其他人都在哪儿。伯爵夫妇,仆人,管家——所有的人都在。湖边那个人影不是家里的人,那会是谁呢?

第二天,劳拉发现手镯丢了,她认为一定是丢在湖边了。她出去找手镯,我留在家里等克尔先生的信使。

1点到了。现在,我对家里的每个人都有怀疑,所以决定溜出去自己迎接信使。我尽量不让别人看见,独自来到大门口,又朝前走了一段。不一会儿,一辆马车过来了。我拦住车,问:“是去布莱克沃特庄园吗?”

一个男人探出头说:“是的,给哈尔库姆小姐送信。”

“把信给我吧,”我说,“我就是哈尔库姆小姐。”

我迫不及待地读了来信。

亲爱的哈尔库姆小姐,你的来信令我深感不安。情况很可能是只要有格莱德夫人的签字,珀西瓦尔爵士就可以借走她的20,000英镑或其中一部分,几乎可以肯定这是不合法的。任何我没有仔细看过的文件,格莱德夫人都不要签字。

此致,威廉·克尔

我满怀感激地读完信,告诉信使我明白了信的意思。正说着,福斯科伯爵突然从拐角那边走了出来,出现在我的面前。我没有任何思想准备,两眼盯着他,一句话也说不出来。信使赶车离开了,伯爵挽着我的手臂往回走。

路上,他兴致勃勃地说这说那,没有问任何关于信和信使的事,我想他已经什么都知道了。他肯定偷看了我的信,然后又放回到邮袋里,现在也知道我收到了回信。没有必要再瞒他什么,所以我什么话也不说,尽量表现得镇定。

回到庄园,我们发现珀西瓦尔爵士已经回来了,看上去情绪更加糟糕。我告诉他劳拉出去找手镯了,他生气地咕哝道:

“什么手镯不手镯的,我半小时后必须在书房见她。”

我转身朝屋里走,但听见身后伯爵对珀西瓦尔说:“我可以跟你在草坪上谈5分钟吗?”

他们俩一起走开了,我走进客厅,思考着刚发生的一切。不一会儿,门轻轻地开了,福斯科伯爵出现在门口。

“好消息,哈尔库姆小姐,”他说,“签字的事推迟了,我想你一定放心了吧。”

我还没来得及从惊讶中回过神来,他就出去了。毫无疑问,是他施加了影响才有现在的变化。他发现我给伦敦写信并且收到了回信,于是他开始干预。还有很多事需要考虑,但我实在累极了,再加上天热,我睁不开眼睛,就这么睡着了。

醒来后,我发现劳拉的一只手搭在我的肩上。

“玛丽安!湖边那个人影。我刚跟她谈过了!她是安妮·凯瑟里克。瞧,她找到了我的手镯。”

我还在半梦半醒之间,迷迷糊糊地看着她问:“安妮·凯瑟里克?”

“是的!我正在船屋里找手镯,”劳拉接着说,“一个穿白衣服的女人进来,轻声说:‘费尔利小姐,你的手镯在我这儿。你的母亲一定不希望你把它弄丢了。’我一下子跳了起来,但她的声音非常友善,我很快就不害怕了。我问她怎么认识我母亲。她告诉我她叫安妮·凯瑟里克,问我记不记得小时候有一天同她还有母亲一道去利默里奇的学校。我确实记得。我突然发现我们俩长得很相像,只是她的脸看上去苍白、消瘦、疲惫。我久病之后可能就是那个样子。‘你为什么叫我费尔利小姐?’我问她。她回答说:‘因为我喜欢费尔利这个姓,憎恨格莱德这个姓。’”

“她提到你丈夫了吗?”我问。

“她说她写完那封信以后,没有勇气再呆在利默里奇阻止我和他结婚。她害怕他找到她,再把她关进精神病院。但是现在她不怕了,因为她现在病得很厉害,就要死了。然后,玛丽安,她说她和她母亲知道一个令我丈夫非常害怕的秘密。”

“什么秘密?快说啊!”我急切地问,“什么秘密?”

“她刚要告诉我,就听见外面有响动。‘有人,’她说,‘有人在盯着我们。明天这个时间到这儿来,我再告诉你。’说完,她就推开我走了。”

“噢,劳拉,劳拉,又一个机会跑掉了!你明天一定要去,那个秘密一定非常重要。我跟你去,躲在远处不让她看见。这次可不能叫她再跑了。”

我们沉默了一会儿。然后,劳拉不安地问:“珀西瓦尔爵士怎么还没来叫我们去书房签字呢?”

“对了,我刚才忘了告诉你,”我说,“多亏了福斯科伯爵,签字的事推迟了。”

“为什么?”劳拉惊疑地问,“珀西瓦尔爵士那么急需钱,怎么会推迟呢?”

“我听珀西瓦尔爵士的律师提过另一个计划,要做一份保证三个月后还钱的文件。”

“噢,玛丽安!”她说,“那可太好了。”

“是很好,但愿这是真的。”

那天晚上,珀西瓦尔爵士对大家,尤其对劳拉,非常有礼貌,甚至可以说是非常好。这一定是伯爵的功劳,我对此很担心。这背后到底隐藏着什么?我想珀西瓦尔爵士昨天突然离开,肯定是去韦明翰找凯瑟里克太太了。他得到什么消息没有?他下一步想干什么?一个晚上,我越来越放心不下。睡觉时我对明天将要发生的事情异常担心。

*  *  *

我的担心没有错。第二天,劳拉和我商量好,午饭后她先一个人到船屋去,过一会儿我再去,尽量不让安妮·凯瑟里克看见我,以免她被我这个陌生人吓跑。

上午,珀西瓦尔爵士比往常出去得更早,连午饭也没来吃,因此我们实施计划也更容易一些。然而,我蹑手蹑脚来到船屋后面的时候,却听不到一点儿动静。我进去寻找,轻声叫着劳拉的名字。可是没有人回答,也没有人影。我来到屋外,仔细察看地面,发现沙地上有两个人的脚印——大一些的像是男人的,小一些的我敢肯定是劳拉的。船屋墙边的沙地上还有一个小坑。

我担心极了,赶忙回到庄园。我见到的第一个人是管家米切尔森太太。

“你知道格莱德夫人回来了吗?”我问。

“是的,她回来了,哈尔库姆小姐。可能出了什么不幸的事。格莱德夫人哭着跑上了楼,珀西瓦尔爵士叫我把她的仆人范妮辞退了。”

我的心一下子沉了下来。范妮是劳拉从利默里奇带来的贴身仆人,也是我们两人在这里唯一信任的人。

我跑上楼,来到劳拉的房门口。房门紧闭,珀西瓦尔的一个仆人站在门口。

“让开,”我大声说,“你没看见我要进去吗?”

“你不能进去,”仆人说,“我得听主人的吩咐。”

我肺都要气炸了,转身下楼去找珀西瓦尔爵士。他和伯爵夫妇正在书房。

“你妻子的房间是监狱吗?”我眼睛直盯着他问道。

“是的,你应该明白这点。”他回答。

“请注意你是如何对待你妻子的!”我愤怒地嚷着。“妇女受法律的保护,我会告你的。”

珀西瓦尔爵士没有接我的话,而是转向了伯爵。伯爵用他那平静、冷漠的灰眼睛看着我。但开口的是伯爵夫人。

“谢谢你的热情款待,珀西瓦尔爵士,”她突然说道。“但是,今天你的妻子和哈尔库姆小姐在这里受到如此的对待,我是不能再呆下去了!”

珀西瓦尔爵士目瞪口呆地盯着伯爵夫人,他跟我一样心里明白,没有伯爵的准许,她是不会说这番话的。

“我同意我妻子的话。”伯爵不紧不慢地说。

珀西瓦尔骂了一句,然后气哼哼地低声说:“好吧,你们要怎样就怎样吧。”说完,他走了出去。

“我们让英国脾气最坏的人明白道理了,”伯爵说,“多亏你的勇气,哈尔库姆小姐,这个令人难堪的局面终于结束了。”

我试图以正常的方式讲话,可是却做不到。伯爵走出了书房,几分钟后回来说,格莱德夫人在她自己的家里重获自由了。我立刻冲上楼来到劳拉的房间。她一个人在里面,我进去得太急了,没有关好门。

“玛丽安!”劳拉感激地说,“你是怎么进来的?”

“当然是伯爵帮的忙。”我回答。

“那个可怕的人!”她大声说,“他是个可恶的奸细!”

就在这时,我听到有人敲门。来的是伯爵夫人,她给我送刚才落在楼下的手绢。她脸色苍白,看了她的眼神,我就明白她一直在门口偷听。

“哦,劳拉,”伯爵夫人走了以后,我对劳拉说,“你不应该管伯爵叫奸细,我们都会后悔的。”

“他真的是奸细,玛丽安!昨天在湖边有人跟踪我,那人就是他。是他告诉珀西瓦尔的,珀西瓦尔整个上午都在等我和安妮·凯瑟里克。凯瑟里克没来,我在沙地小坑里找到一张纸条,上面说一个胖老头昨天跟踪她。那人没有抓住她,但是她今天下午不敢来了。她一大早就来藏了纸条,还说她会很快再来见我,告诉我珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。”

“那张纸条呢?”我问,“在你手里吗?”

“没有。我正在看的时候,珀西瓦尔爵士出现在我面前。他把纸条夺过去,要我告诉他安妮·凯瑟里克说了什么。他那么用力地抓我的手臂!——看,都青了。我能怎么办,玛丽安?我一点儿办法也没有,只好都告诉他了。”

我看着劳拉手臂上的伤,心里恨透了珀西瓦尔爵士却敢怒不敢言。

“可他还不相信我,”劳拉继续说道,“他说他知道凯瑟里克还告诉了我很多事,我不说实话,他就把我锁起来。然后他把我带回庄园,下令辞退范妮,还把我锁在房间里。噢,玛丽安,他简直像个疯子!我们该怎么办呢?”

“他是疯了——因为他害怕。他认为你知道了他的秘密,”我说,“我必须采取行动保护你——谁知道我还可以在这儿呆多久呢?”我冥思苦想了几分钟,“我要写两封信让范妮带走。我再也不能相信那个邮袋了。一封给克尔先生,告诉他你的伤和珀西瓦尔爵士的粗暴行为。”

“那另外一封呢?”劳拉迫不及待地问。

“给费尔利先生,”我回答,“你那懒惰、自私的叔叔。我要让他请你回一次利默里奇,不带你丈夫。”

离开劳拉,我回到自己的房间,开始写信。范妮已经离开了庄园,今晚住在村里的旅店,明天动身长途旅行去坎伯兰郡。我想我晚饭前有时间到旅店,然后再回来。所以,我悄悄地溜出庄园,朝村子走去。

我不时回头张望,看是否有人跟踪。或许是我的想象在作怪?现在,我开始怀疑一切——任何小的声响,路上的影子,一切风吹草动。刚才写信的时候,我觉得门外有丝绸衣服的响动。我甚至怀疑是否有人来我房间偷看过我桌子里的东西。我加快了脚步,尽量不去想这些。

来到小旅店,我在范妮的房间见到了她。离开劳拉让她难过得哭了起来。但是,当我告诉她格莱德夫人和我需要她的帮助时,她不哭了。

“这儿有两封信,”我说,“一封你明天到伦敦后寄给克尔先生,另一封你到利默里奇后亲手交给费尔利先生。一定把信收好。”

范妮把信塞到衣服里。“我把信放在这儿,小姐,”她说,“我会照你的吩咐去做。”

7
A conversation in the night

I arrived back at the house with only twenty minutes to get ready for dinner — and to slip into Laura's room to say that the letters were safely in Fanny's hands.

Laura looked pale. 'I'm not coming down to dinner,' she said. 'Sir Percival came to my door, shouting at me to tell him where Anne Catherick is.'

'At least that means he hasn't found her yet,' I said.

At dinner the Count looked hot and red in the face, and his clothes were a little untidy. Had he been out too, I wondered? He seemed troubled by some secret annoyance or anxiety, and was almost as silent as Sir Percival. At the end of the meal, when Madame Fosco and I left the table, the Count stood up too.

'Where are you going, Fosco?' Sir Percival said. 'Sit down and have another glass of wine. I want a quiet talk with you.'

'Not now, Percival. Later,' he answered.

Earlier in the day I had heard Sir Percival make the same request, and this was the second time the Count had postponed the talk. Why, I wondered? And what was it that Sir Percival wanted to discuss so urgently?

We went into the living room and Madame Fosco, usually so slow and deliberate in her movements, drank her tea at great speed and then slipped quietly out of the room. I began to leave too, but the Count stopped me, first by a request for more tea, then by asking my opinion on some music, and then by playing several noisy Italian songs on the piano. Eventually, I escaped from him and went up to Laura's room. Had she seen or heard anything of Madame Fosco, I asked? No, she had not. We talked together till ten o'clock, and then I went downstairs again to say goodnight. Sir Percival, the Count and his wife were sitting together in the living room. I noticed that Madame Fosco's face was now hot and red. Where had she been, and what had she been doing? As I looked at her, she gave a little smile, as though at some private joke.

I said goodnight to everybody, and as I left the room, I heard Sir Percival say impatiently to the Count, 'Come outside and have a smoke, Fosco.'

'With pleasure, Percival, when all the ladies have gone to bed,' replied the Count.

Up in my room, I could not stop myself thinking about this private discussion between Sir Percival and the Count, postponed all day and now, it seemed, about to take place in the silence and loneliness of the night. After a while, I went from my bedroom into my sitting room, and closed the door between the rooms. It was dark, as no candles were lit, and I looked out of the open window for some time, down into the blackness of the garden. There was a smell like rain in the still, heavy air.

Suddenly I saw two red points of light advancing in the dark and stopping below my bedroom window, inside which a candle was burning. One red point was small, the other was big. The Count smoking a cigarette, and Sir Percival smoking a cigar, I think. They could not see me in the darkness of my sitting room, so I waited to hear what they said.

'Why don't you come in and sit down?' Sir Percival said.

'Wait till we see that light go out,' replied the Count. 'When I know she's in bed, and I have checked the rooms on each side of the library, then we will talk.'

Such secrecy! I decided I must listen to this conversation, in spite of the Count's efforts to keep it private. The idea terrified me, but Laura's happiness — perhaps even her life — might depend on what I heard. How could I do it? I realized I could get out on to the flat verandah roof which ran past the bedrooms, about three feet below the windows. It was narrow, but there was room to move along it till I was above the library window. The Count and Sir Percival usually sat near the open window, smoking, and if they did, I would be able to hear them from above.

I went back to my bedroom, put on a long dark cloak with a hood, and put out the candle. Then, after a while, I returned to my sitting room and climbed out of the window on to the verandah roof. My heart began to beat very fast. I had to pass five windows — four were dark, but the fifth window was the Countess's room, and it looked out over the exact place above the library where I planned to sit. And there was still a light in it. I crept along the roof, then went down on my hands and knees to pass her window. As I passed, I looked up — and saw her shadow against the thin curtains at the window...

I stop breathing. Has she heard me? Will she look out? No, the shadow moves away, she's gone. Now I move to my position at the edge of the roof and begin to listen. Are they there, or have they gone elsewhere for their talk? Ah, I can hear the Count's voice.

'Miss Halcombe's light is out, the rooms next door are empty, the only window with a light in is my wife's — so now we may talk. We are at a serious crisis in our affairs, Percival, and we must decide about the future tonight.'

'It's a worse crisis than you think,' growls Sir Percival.

'Listen, Percival. This is our situation. We both came to this house in need of money and the only way of getting it was with the help of your wife. Now what did I tell you? I told you never to lose your temper with her, and especially never with her sister, Miss Halcombe. And have you remembered this? Not once. Your mad temper lost your wife's signature, lost the ready money, made Miss Halcombe write to the lawyer for the first time —'

'First time! Has she written again?'

'Yes, she has written again today.'

What! How does he know that? Did he follow me to the hotel? But even if he did, he couldn't have seen the letters — they went straight from my hand to Fanny's dress. So how does he know?

'You're lucky,' the Count continues, 'that you have me in the house to undo the harm that you do. Lucky that I said no when you were mad enough to make your wife a prisoner and keep her from Miss Halcombe. Can't you see that Miss Halcombe has the courage and understanding of a man? How I admire that woman! But she stands like a rock between us and that pretty little wife of yours. Now, the money. We have obtained a loan — a horribly expensive loan — by signing a document promising to repay it in three months. When the time comes, is there really no way to repay the money except by the help of your wife?'

'None.'

'What money do you actually get from your wife at present?'

'Only the income from her twenty thousand pounds.'

'Do you expect any more from your wife?'

'Absolutely nothing — except in the case of her death.'

'Aha! In the case of her death.'

A pause. It has begun to rain, and already I feel wet and cold.

Sir Percival again. 'If she leaves no children, I get her twenty thousand pounds.'

'Percival! Do you care about your wife?'

'Fosco! That's a very direct question.'

'Let's say your wife dies before the end of the summer — '

'Forget it, Fosco!'

'You would gain twenty thousand pounds.'

'Speak for yourself as well as for me, Fosco. You would also gain — my wife's death would be ten thousand pounds in your wife's pocket.'

'Percival, here is the position. If your wife lives, you pay that debt with her signature on the document. If your wife dies, you pay the debt with her death.'

The light in Madame Fosco's room goes out, and the verandah roof is now sunk in darkness. The rain continues. I Listen with every nerve in my body, memorizing word after word.

'Percival, you must now leave this matter in my hands. I have more than two months to find the solution, so let's not talk about it any more. Let me help you with your other difficulty — the difficulty that seems to have the name of Anne Catherick.'

'Look, Fosco, we may be friends, but we still have our secrets. This does not concern you. Please don't ask me about it.'

'My friend, I can respect a secret. So I won't ask you to tell me. But can I help you all the same?'

'If I don't find Anne Catherick, I'm a lost man. Both she and her mother know this — this secret. It could ruin me, Fosco. Anne Catherick has spoken to my wife and I'm sure she's told her.'

'But as your wife, surely it's in her interest to keep it a secret?'

'If she loved me, that would be true. But she's in love with someone she met before we married, a drawing teacher called Walter Hartright. And who helped Anne Catherick escape from the asylum? Hartright. Who saw her again in Cumberland? Hartright. He knows the secret, and my wife knows the secret. If they get together, they will use it against me.'

'Yes, yes, I see. Where is Mr Hartright?'

'Out of the country. He sailed for America.'

'Don't worry, then. I will deal with him if he ever comes back. Depend on it. But first we must find Anne Catherick. What about her mother? Can she be trusted?'

'It's in her interest not to tell anyone the secret.'

'Good. Now, how will I recognize Anne Catherick?'

'Easily. She's the pale, sickly likeness of my wife.'

A noise as a chair is pushed back. The Count has jumped to his feet and is walking about. He seems amazed.

'What!!! Are she and your wife related to each other?'

'Not at all.'

'And yet so alike? Well, I will know her when I see her.'

'What the devil are you laughing about, Fosco?'

'Just a thought, my good friend, just a thought. But enough for tonight. You will pay the debt and find Anne Catherick. I promise you. You can put your mind at rest, Percival.'

Not another word is spoken. I hear the library door close. I am wet to the skin, stiff and aching with the cold. At first I can't move, but slowly, painfully, I creep back to my window and climb in. As I fall on the floor, I hear the clock strike a quarter past one. Time passes. Somehow I manage to get up and put on dry clothes. I am burning hot — and shivering with cold. I know I must write down what I have heard, so I find paper and pen and write without stopping. The fever rises in me, burning, burning. I open the window for cool air...

Eight o'clock. Bright sunshine, which hammers at my eyes. My head aches, my bones ache, my skin burns, yet I cannot stop shivering. I lie down to sleep, my writing finished, and in my fever I see Count Fosco come into my room and read the pages I have written. He smiles. I am helpless — unable to move, speak, breathe... and I sink into the long, black night of illness...


untidy adj. not neat or orderly 不整齐的

deliberate adj. leisurely, unhurried 不慌不忙的

impatiently adv. lacking patience or tolerance 不耐烦地;着急地

go out put out 吹灭;熄灭

verandah n. an open area with a floor and a roof that is built on the side of a house on the ground floor 游廊

crisis n. time of danger or difficulty 危机

understanding n. the ability to understand or think 见识

memorize v. commit to memory 记住

in her interest as something that is advantageous to her 对她有利

hammer at inflict pain at 使疼痛

7.深夜密谈

我回到庄园时,只剩20分钟就要吃晚餐了——我还得溜进劳拉的房间,告诉她信已经安全地交给范妮了。

劳拉脸色苍白。“我不下楼吃晚饭了,”她说,“珀西瓦尔爵士刚来过,站在门口朝我大喊,要我告诉他安妮·凯瑟里克在哪儿。”

“这起码说明他还没找到她。”我说。

吃晚饭的时候,福斯科伯爵满脸通红,衣服也有些不整。他也出去了吗,我心里疑惑。他似乎有什么秘密的困扰,几乎和珀西瓦尔爵士一样一言不发。吃罢饭,伯爵夫人和我往外走的时候,伯爵也站起身。

“你去哪里,福斯科?”珀西瓦尔爵士问道,“坐下再喝一杯。我要同你单独谈一谈。”

“现在不行,珀西瓦尔。以后吧。”伯爵回答。

白天的时候我也听到珀西瓦尔爵士提出同样的要求,这是一天之内伯爵第二次推迟和珀西瓦尔谈话了。为什么呢?我不明白。珀西瓦尔爵士这么着急要和伯爵谈什么呢?

我们走进客厅,平常总是慢条斯理的伯爵夫人迅速地喝完茶,不声不响地走了出去。我也朝外面走,但是伯爵叫住了我。他先是要我帮他添茶,然后又问我对某些音乐的看法,还在钢琴上弹了几首闹哄哄的意大利曲子。最后,我才得以离开他,来到劳拉的房间。我问她有没有看见伯爵夫人或是听见她的动静?她说没有。我们俩一直聊到10点,我下楼跟大家道晚安。珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵夫妇都在客厅坐着。我注意到伯爵夫人的脸通红。她刚才去哪儿了,干什么去了?看到我在打量她,伯爵夫人笑了笑,好像我们两个私下开过什么玩笑似的。

我同大家道了晚安。离开客厅的时候,我听见珀西瓦尔爵士不耐烦地对伯爵说:“到外面来抽支烟,福斯科。”

“好的,珀西瓦尔。等女士们都去睡了以后。”伯爵说。

回到楼上的房间,我还在想珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵的密谈,拖了一天,到现在终于要在寂静的夜晚进行了。过了一会儿,我从卧室来到我的客厅,把房门关好。房间漆黑一片,没有点蜡烛。我透过窗子向外望了一会儿,外面的花园一片黑暗,宁静、潮湿的空气中有一种雨的味道。

突然,我看到黑暗中有两个红色的亮点在移动,然后在我卧室的窗下停住了,我卧室里点着一支蜡烛。一个亮点小,另一个大些。我想肯定是伯爵在抽烟卷,珀西瓦尔爵士在抽雪茄。我的客厅是黑的,他们看不见我。因此,我在客厅等着听他们说什么。

“为什么不进屋,坐下来谈?”珀西瓦尔爵士说。

“等到那蜡烛灭了再说,”伯爵说,“等她睡了,我再查看一下书房两边的房间,然后我们再谈。”

那么机密!不管伯爵怎样保密,我一定要听听这场谈话。这个想法使我很害怕,但是劳拉的幸福——甚或她的生命——可能都跟我听到的内容有关。我怎么去偷听呢?我想到可以从游廊的平顶上过去,平顶连着好几间卧室,比窗户大约低3英尺。顶子很窄,但还是可以过去,到达书房窗户的上面。伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士经常坐在敞开的窗子旁抽烟,如果是这样的话,我就可以从上面偷听他们的谈话了。

我回到卧室,穿上一件长长的带有兜帽的黑色斗篷,吹灭了蜡烛。呆了一会儿,我回到客厅,爬出窗户来到游廊的平顶上。我的心跳开始加速。我必须爬过五个窗子,其中四个已经没有了亮光,可第五个是伯爵夫人的房间,那儿恰好在书房上面,正是我要偷听的地方。而且,伯爵夫人的房间里还亮着烛光。我沿着平顶往前移动,然后手脚并用地爬过她的窗子。经过她窗下时,我抬头看了看——透过薄薄的窗帘看见她在窗前的身影……

我屏住呼吸。她是不是听见我在这儿了?她会向外看吗?没有,影子移开了,她走了。我来到平顶的边上,找好了偷听的位置。他们在这儿吗?会不会到别的地方去谈?啊,我听见伯爵的声音了。

“哈尔库姆小姐房间的蜡烛灭了,这两边的房间没人,唯一有亮光的窗户是我妻子的房间——好了,我们现在可以谈了。珀西瓦尔,我们的事现在出现了严重危机,今晚我们必须计划一下该怎么办。”

“事情比你想的还要糟。”珀西瓦尔爵士嘀咕着。

“听着,珀西瓦尔。这就是我们两人的处境。我们都是为了钱才到这个庄园来的,而得到钱的唯一途径是通过你的妻子。我跟你说过什么?我告诉你千万不要跟你妻子发脾气,尤其不能和她姐姐哈尔库姆小姐发脾气。可是你记住了吗?根本没有。你的坏脾气让我们失去了你妻子的签字,到手的钱没了,还让哈尔库姆小姐给律师写了第一封信——”

“第一封信?她又写信了吗?”

“是的,她今天又写信了。”

什么!他是怎么知道的?他是不是跟踪我去了旅店?但是就算他去了,也不会看到那两封信的——信是直接从我手里到了范妮的衣服里的。那他是怎么知道的呢?

“你很走运,”伯爵接着说,“有我在这儿帮你解决麻烦。你很走运,在你发疯一样把你的妻子当犯人关起来,不让她见哈尔库姆小姐的时候,我出来阻拦了你。你看不出来吗?哈尔库姆小姐具有男人一样的勇气和见识,我非常敬佩她!但是,她就像挡在我们和你那漂亮小妻子之间的一块巨石。现在说钱的问题。我们得到了一笔贷款——一笔代价极大的贷款——我们签了字,答应三个月后还钱。到时候,除了靠你妻子就没有任何办法还钱了吗?”

“没有。”

“你现在从你妻子那儿可以得到什么钱?”

“只有她那20,000英镑带来的收入。”

“你还能从你妻子身上得到更多的钱吗?”

“一分都没有——除非她死了”

“呵!除非她死了。”

谈话暂停了。天开始下雨,我感到身上又湿又冷。

珀西瓦尔爵士接着说:“如果她没留下孩子,我可以得到她那20,000英镑。”

“珀西瓦尔!你真的在乎你妻子吗?”

“福斯科!这个问题太直接了。”

“假如你妻子在夏末死去——”

“别说了,福斯科!”

“你会得到20,000英镑。”

“别光说我,还有你,福斯科。你也会受益,妻子死了,妻子口袋里就会装进10,000英镑。”

“珀西瓦尔,这就是现在的局面。如果你妻子活着,你需要得到她签字来还债;如果你妻子死了,你就用她的死来还债。”

福斯科夫人房间的烛光熄灭了,游廊顶上一团漆黑。雨还在下。我全神贯注地听着,把每个字都记在心里。

“珀西瓦尔,你现在必须把这件事交给我来办,我有两个多月的时间去想办法,现在咱们先不谈这个。让我来帮你解决另一个麻烦——那个好像和安妮·凯瑟里克这个名字有关的麻烦。”

“瞧,福斯科,我们或许是朋友,但我们都有各自的秘密。这件事与你无关。请你不要问我这件事。”

“我的朋友,我可以尊重你的秘密。我不问你的秘密是什么,但不管怎么说,我能帮你点儿什么吗?”

“假如找不到安妮·凯瑟里克,我就完了。她和她母亲都知道那个——那个秘密。那个秘密会毁了我,福斯科。安妮·凯瑟里克找过我妻子,我敢肯定她已经把秘密告诉我妻子了。”

“可是,作为你的妻子,保守这个秘密不也对她有好处吗?”

“如果她爱我,应该是这样的。但是,她爱上了一个她在我们结婚以前认识的人,一个叫沃尔特·哈特里特的绘画教师。是谁帮助安妮·凯瑟里克从精神病院逃走的?是哈特里特。又是谁在坎伯兰郡跟她见面?还是哈特里特。他知道这个秘密,我妻子也知道这个秘密。要是他们两个聚到一块儿,肯定利用这个秘密来对付我。”

“说的对,说的对,我明白了。哈特里特先生现在在哪儿?”

“在国外。他去美洲了。”

“那就不用担心了。他要是回来,我来对付他。你放心。不过我们还是要先找到安妮·凯瑟里克。她母亲呢?可信吗?”

“保守这个秘密对她有好处。”

“很好。不过我怎么才能认出安妮·凯瑟里克来?”

“这容易。她长得很像我妻子,只是脸色苍白,面容憔悴。”

我听见向后移动椅子的声响。伯爵站了起来,在屋里来回走动着,他显得非常惊讶。

alt

“什么!她跟你妻子有亲戚关系吗?”

“一点儿没有。”

“那就这么相像?我见到她会认出来的。”

“你到底在笑什么,福斯科?”

“只是一个想法,我的好朋友,一个想法而己。不过今晚就谈到这儿。你会还清债务,找到安妮·凯瑟里克的。我敢保证。你就放心吧,珀西瓦尔。”

谈话结束了。我听到书房的门关上了。我身上已经湿透,身体被冻得又僵又疼。起初整个人都动不了。我艰难地慢慢爬回我的窗边,爬进屋里。我跳到地板上时,听见钟响了,1点一刻。时间过得真快。我挣扎着起来,换上干衣服。我浑身发烫——同时也冷得打哆嗦。我明白我必须把听到的全都写下来,于是找出纸笔,开始不停地写起来。我烧得越来越厉害,浑身好像着了火。我打开窗户,让冷空气进来……

8点了。明媚的阳光使我的眼睛隐隐作痛。我头痛得非常厉害,全身酸痛,而且发烫,还不停地打哆嗦。我躺下睡觉,记录已经写完了。迷迷糊糊地,我看见福斯科伯爵进到我的房间,看了我写的东西。他笑了笑。我毫无办法——不能动,不能说话,不能呼吸……我陷入长长的昏迷,眼前一片黑暗……

8
Fever

While I lay unconscious in my illness, I knew nothing, of course, of the events happening around me. It was only much later that I learnt from other people what had happened.

When I eventually returned to Limmeridge, Fanny told me about the letters and the night she had left Blackwater.

'You left me at about seven, miss, and at nine o'clock I had another visitor — the Countess! Yes, I was so surprised. But she was very kind. She saw that I was upset at leaving and insisted on having some tea with me. So I drank my tea, and five minutes later I fainted — for the first time in my life! When I woke up, it was about half an hour later. A lady from the hotel was looking after me as the Countess had had to go home. I checked the letters in my dress, miss, and they were both there, quite safe.

'And just as you told me, in London I posted the letter to Mr Kyrle, and as soon as I got to Limmeridge, I delivered the other letter personally to Mr Fairlie. I told him all about being dismissed by Sir Percival and everything, and what had happened at the hotel, but, well, he didn't seem very interested, miss.'

That last piece of information did not surprise me in the least. Had Laura's uncle ever been interested in anybody except himself? When I went to talk to him, he was full of excuses.

'My nerves, dear Marian, remember my nerves! Yes, of course I will tell you about the letters, but please don't get excited and go around banging doors! Try to stay calm.'

'I suppose my letter about Laura upset you,' I said.

'Of course it did, dear Marian! What was I to do? You told me Laura needed to escape from her husband and to come to Limmeridge. But suppose Sir Percival had come after her? Think of the noise, the arguments, the banging of doors! That's why I wrote to you, to beg you to come here first by yourself, to talk the matter over with me.'

I never saw that letter, of course, as it arrived at Blackwater when I was unconscious with fever.

'And Mr Kyrle wrote to you as well, didn't he?' I said.

'Yes. He wrote to say he had received an envelope addressed to him in your handwriting, but which contained only a plain piece of paper without a word on it. He had written to you about it, and had received no reply. Why he expected me to explain this mystery, I had no idea. And that's what I told him.'

So helpful, I thought bitterly. But there was no point in saying anything. 'And were you surprised not to hear from me again?'

'Indeed I was, until my sister's foreign husband, that extraordinary Count Fosco, came to see me. Such a huge man!' said Mr Fairlie, his eyes closing at the memory. 'But surprisingly quiet on his feet. Anyway, he explained how ill you were, dear Marian, which was why you hadn't replied to my letter. I was extremely shocked and sorry to hear about your illness. But the Count did talk so much — I thought he would never leave!'

'And he persuaded you to write to Laura,' I said, trying to keep my voice calm and quiet.

'Yes, he urged me — in fact, practically ordered me — to invite Laura here at once. She was too nervous and upset to be of any use to you in the sick-room, he said, and the situation with Sir Percival was growing more dangerous every day. There was no trouble with the journey, because he and his wife had just rented a house in London. So Laura could travel up to London, stay the night with them, and travel on to Cumberland the next day.'

'So you wrote the letter and gave it to him,' I said.

'Where was the harm in it? In any case, I never for a moment thought that Laura would leave you alone when you were so ill. And how was I to know what shocking event was about to take place? No one could possibly say that I was to blame …'

*  *  *

I know now exactly who was to blame, but it took quite a time to put all the different pieces of information together. When I first began to be aware of my surroundings again during my recovery, I knew nothing, of course, about the letters. I knew only that I was not in my usual bedroom and there was a foreign lady looking after me. I had no idea who she was and she would not answer any of my questions. So I was very relieved a few days later when the familiar face of Mrs Michelson appeared.

'Oh, Mrs Michelson,' I said, 'I'm so glad to see you. Please tell me what's been happening.'

'You've had typhus fever, Miss Halcombe. You've been very ill. But you're getting stronger now, I'm happy to say.'

'Typhus! No wonder I feel so weak. And my sister, Lady Glyde — I do hope she didn't catch the infection?'

'No, no, she didn't.'

Mrs Michelson would not look me in the face, and I began to feel worried. Was she afraid to tell me something?

'Is my sister ill? Please, Mrs Michelson, I must know!'

'No, she's not ill. But... but she's not here. She went away yesterday to London, and is going on to Limmeridge today.'

I stared at her. Laura gone? I could not believe it. What did it mean? Had something terrible happened? I remembered the conversation I heard during the night on the verandah roof, and my heart filled with fear.

'And Sir Percival …?' I could not finish my question.

'Sir Percival left the house last night, to go abroad,' she said. 'The Count and Countess have gone to London, and the servants have all been dismissed, except for a cook and the gardener. You and I are the only people living in the house, Miss Halcombe.'

The shock of this news was so great that I felt faint. Mrs Michelson hurried to fetch me a glass of water.

'Oh, Miss Halcombe, I'm sorry,' she said. 'Try not to worry. You must rest now, and try to sleep a little.'

Later, when I felt stronger, we talked again. 'Tell me everything you can remember, from the day I fell ill,' I begged Mrs Michelson. 'I must know what happened.'

'Well, Miss Halcombe, on that first morning a servant found you, lying on your bed in a fever, holding a pen tightly in your hand. The doctor was called at once, a Mr Dawson, who said you were very ill. The Countess and I acted as your nurses — Lady Glyde wanted to help, but she was so upset at seeing you unconscious that she couldn't stop crying.

'Sir Percival and the Count were concerned about you too, though they seemed worried about something else as well. In fact, the Count spent three days down by the lake, at that old boat-house, and I remember he came in once when I was going through the hall. Sir Percival came rushing out of the library, saying, "Have you found her?" I didn't hear the answer and I have no idea who they were talking about.'

I had a very good idea who they were talking about, but it was obvious that Mrs Michelson didn't, so I said nothing.

'Your fever got worse,' Mrs Michelson went on. 'The Count said we needed a nurse to help us, so Madame Fosco took the train to London and came back with Mrs Rubelle.'

'Is that the foreign lady who was looking after me before you appeared, Mrs Michelson?' I asked.

'Yes, that's right. She didn't say very much, but she was a capable nurse. I had no complaints about her work. Mr Dawson, the doctor, was suspicious of her because she was recommended by the Count, and he didn't like the Count at all.'

'Why was that?' I asked.

'The Count had a lot of medical knowledge, you see, and he was always suggesting to Mr Dawson ways of reducing your fever. Mr Dawson called it interference and got quite angry about it. But in fact, miss, the Count recognized you had typhus fever before Mr Dawson did. He — the Count, that is — went away to London for a week, and when he came back, he took one look at you and said "Typhus". Mr Dawson sent to London for another doctor, who came and said the same thing. Then we had a very worrying ten days, when your life was in danger, but at last the doctor said you were through the worst and with good nursing care you would recover. Lady Glyde was so overcome by this happy news that she became ill herself and had to be put to bed.'

'My sister has always had delicate health,' I said.

'Yes, she's not strong. Anyway, Miss Halcombe, it was at this point that disturbing things started to happen. First, the Count and Mr Dawson argued again so fiercely that Mr Dawson left, saying he refused to offer his services any more. Next, Sir Percival told me that he was going to close the house. As soon as you and Lady Glyde were able to travel, he said, you would be going away for a change of air. He told me to dismiss all the servants, except a girl to do the cooking, and a gardener. Imagine! Just like that! I tell you, Miss Halcombe, if I hadn't felt so sorry for you and Lady Glyde, I would have resigned at once!

'The last thing was very strange indeed,' said Mrs Michelson, shaking her head. 'Sir Percival said that you and Lady Glyde would benefit from a stay at the seaside town of Torquay. He told me to go there to look for a suitable house to rent, and told me how much money I could pay. Well, I knew it wasn't enough, and I wish now that I hadn't gone, but he was my employer so I thought I had to obey his orders. I returned yesterday, after two days away, and told Sir Percival that it was impossible to find a house at such a low rent. Sir Percival showed no interest in my news at all. He just said that the Count and Countess had left Blackwater Park for their new house in London.'

Mrs Michelson looked at me anxiously. 'I think you'll find the next part of the story very upsetting,' she said. 'Poor Lady Glyde was cruelly deceived by her husband.'

'You don't surprise me,' I murmured. 'Please go on.'

'After seeing Sir Percival, I went upstairs to see you and Lady Glyde. Your sister, though still very weak, was feeling better and wanted to get up and go and visit you in your room. I helped her to dress and as we went down the passage, we met Sir Percival.

'"If you're going to see your sister, you won't find her," Sir Percival says. "She left the house yesterday with Fosco and his wife. She decided to go with them to London, on her way to Limmeridge. Mrs Rubelle went too, to look after her on the journey. You can look in her room if you don't believe me."

'I was shocked and amazed by this, and Lady Glyde's face went as white as a sheet. She almost ran down the passage and threw open the door to your room. It was empty.

'Then she cries out to Sir Percival, "Marian was much too ill to travel. Even if she did go, she would never leave without saying goodbye to me first. And why would she go to Limmeridge alone, leaving me here at Blackwater Park?"

'"Because your uncle won't receive you till he has seen your sister first," says Sir Percival. "Have you forgotten the letter he wrote to her at the beginning of her illness?"

'All through this interview, Miss Halcombe, I thought Sir Percival seemed very strange — jumpy and nervous, not at all his usual self. And now he just turned and walked away. Lady Glyde was shaking with fear, and looked at me with terror in her eyes. "Something's happened to my sister. I must follow her — I must see that she's alive and well with my own eyes. Please, Mrs Michelson, come down with me to Sir Percival. Stay with me, please!" She held my arm so tightly that I had to go with her.

'Sir Percival was in the dining room, drinking. He drank at least four glasses of wine while we were in there, Miss Halcombe. Lady Glyde was very brave, I thought. She said, "If my sister is well enough to travel, then so am I. Please allow me to follow her at once by the afternoon train."

'Sir Percival was so rude and rough with her. "You can go tomorrow," he said. "I'll write to Fosco. He can meet you at the station and you'll stay at his house overnight."

'Lady Glyde's hand began to tremble violently on my arm. "I would rather not stay at the Count's house," she said.

'Sir Percival then got very angry. "Why not?" he shouted." What's wrong with sleeping at your aunt's house? Your sister slept there last night to break her journey, and so will you. That's what your uncle, Mr Fairlie, wants you to do as well. Here — there's a letter from him. I forgot to send it up to you."

'Poor Lady Glyde was shaking so much that she gave me the letter to read to her. It was very short. I remember it, word for word: Dear Laura, please come whenever you like. Break the journey by sleeping at your aunt's house. Sorry to hear of Marian's illness. Your fond uncle, Frederick Fairlie.

'Lady Glyde didn't try to argue any more, and we went back upstairs. It seemed quite a sensible plan to me, Miss Halcombe, and I couldn't understand why Lady Glyde was so terrified of Count Fosco. She walked up and down her room, whispering, "Poor Marian — in that horrible man's power! I must find her, even if I have to follow her to Count Fosco's house."

'The next day I helped Lady Glyde get ready and went with her to the station. "If Marian has already left for Limmeridge, I won't stay at the Count's house," she told me. "I'll go and stay with Mrs Vesey, my old governess." As the train pulled away, I saw her pale, frightened face at the window. I felt so sad for her.

'Then I came back here. Imagine my surprise, Miss Halcombe, when I saw Mrs Rubelle walking in the garden! "What are you doing here?" I said. "You went to London with the Foscos and Miss Halcombe!" And then it all came out. You were still in the house. While I was out of the way in Torquay, they moved you to a room in an unused part of the house and kept you hidden. You must have been in a very deep sleep when they moved you. Perhaps they drugged you — I don't know. Then Sir Percival appeared and gave me this explanation. It was all for his wife's own good, he said. She needed a change of air, and would not have gone to Limmeridge if she had known that you were still in the house. He spoke in such a violent, angry way that I did not dare to express my opinion.

'So you see, Miss Halcombe, that was how poor Lady Glyde was deceived. It was wicked and cruel. I would have resigned my position immediately, but Sir Percival told me that Mrs Rubelle was leaving and there would be no one to look after you if I left too. So, naturally, I stayed. Sir Percival left last night, as I told you. The gardener said he seemed half mad. He called for his carriage, and drove away like an escaped criminal, saying his house was a prison and he would never return to it. I hope and pray, Miss Halcombe, that I never see that man again.'

Poor Laura — how she must have suffered! There was nothing I could do. I could not go after her as I was too weak even to stand. I hoped desperately that she had found out about the deception and would write soon to tell me that she was safe.

*  *  *

A letter came a few days later, but it was not for me, and not from Laura. It was for Mrs Michelson from Madame Fosco.

Mrs Michelson came into my room with the letter in her hand. Mr Dawson, who had agreed to be my doctor again now that the Count had gone, was behind her. I took one look at both their faces, and sat up in bed, terrified.

'What is it?' I gasped. 'You have some dreadful news for me. I can see it in your faces.'

Mrs Michelson sat down on the edge of the bed and took my hand. 'Your poor, dear sister, Lady Glyde...' she began.

The room began to darken around me, as though night was falling, and the words seemed to come from a great distance.

'... was taken seriously ill when she arrived at her aunt's house in London, and died the next day, very suddenly. She is to be buried at Limmeridge, in her mother's grave.'

*  *  *

Kind Mrs Michelson nursed me through my second illness, with Mr Dawson's help. I was not able to travel for more than three weeks, but eventually I found the strength to leave that hated house and return to Limmeridge. Mrs Michelson and I travelled together to London, where I went to see Mr Kyrle. To him I revealed the terrible suspicions in my mind about the circumstances of my sister's death. He was most concerned and promised to make enquiries for me.

I went on to Limmeridge House and a few days later Mr Kyrle wrote to me there. He had taken statements from several witnesses, he said, and was convinced that nothing suspicious had happened. He sent copies of the statements for my information. This was the one by the Count's cook, Mrs Hester Pinhorn:


I was recently employed as a cook by the Count and Countess Fosco at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. One day near the end of July, the Countess's niece, Lady Glyde, arrived at the house. She immediately fell ill. I saw her lying on the sofa, her face all white. I ran out for a doctor and came back with Mr Goodricke. He examined her and said she had a very serious heart disease. During the night she got worse. Then, at about five o'clock the next day, she lost consciousness. The doctor went in and, after putting his hand on her heart, announced that she was dead. He said that, as the Count was a foreigner, he himself would go to record the death at the district office. The Count and Countess were very badly affected by the lady's death. The lady's husband was abroad, so they arranged the funeral themselves, which took place in Cumberland.


I was still very weak from my long illness, and despair nearly overtook me at this point. I had no friend to turn to, and no idea what to do next. I went every day to the churchyard, to put flowers on the grave and to read again those sad, sad words.


In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde

Wife of Sir Percival Glyde, of Blackwater Park, Hampshire

Born 27th March 1829

Died 25th July 1850


personally adv. in person 亲自

practically adv. almost 几乎

rent v. use at a rent

typhus n. a serious infectious disease 斑疹伤寒

catch the infection be affected by the infectious disease 被传染

be through have passed 度过

fiercely adv. violently 激烈地

obey v. carry out a command 服从

jumpy adj. making sudden movements 躁动的

pull away (of a train ) leave (火车)离开;开走

drug v. to give someone a drug, esp in order to make them feel tired or go to sleep 用药麻醉

for one's good for one's interest 为了……的利益;为了……好

be convinced be certain that something is true 确信

announce v. make publicly known 宣布

overtake v. overwhelm 击垮

8.高烧

我在床上昏睡着,对周围发生了什么当然一无所知。很长时间以后,我才从别人那里得知出了什么事。

后来,我回到利默里奇,范妮告诉我那两封信的事以及她离开布莱克沃特那天晚上发生的事情。

“你从我那儿走的时候是7点钟,9点钟又来了一位客人——是伯爵夫人!没错,我非常吃惊。但她特别和善。她看出我在为离开而难过,就坚持要和我喝茶。我喝了茶,5分钟后就晕过去了——这可是我头一回晕过去!我醒的时候已经过了大约半小时。旅店的一位女士在照看我,伯爵夫人已经回去了。我检查衣服里的信,两封信都在,很安全。

“我照你说的,在伦敦把给克尔先生的信寄了出去,一到利默里奇,就把另一封信亲自交给了费尔利先生。我告诉他,我被珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了,还有在那边发生了什么以及旅店的事情,但是他好像对这些都没什么兴趣,小姐。”

对最后一点,我丝毫不觉得奇怪。劳拉的这个叔叔,除了对他自己的事还对什么有兴趣?我去找他谈的时候,他满嘴借口。

“我的神经,亲爱的玛丽安,别忘了我的神经不好!是的,我当然会告诉你信的事,可是请你不要激动,不要总那么使劲儿关门!请你保持冷静。”

“我想我写给你关于劳拉的信让你担心了吧。”我说。

“当然让我担心了,亲爱的玛丽安!我该怎么做呢?你说劳拉需要逃离她丈夫,回到利默里奇来。但是,如果珀西瓦尔爵士随后过来找她怎么办?想想那会有多少噪音、吵闹、摔门声!这就是我为什么给你写信,叫你自己先回来,跟我谈谈这件事。”

我当然没见过那封信,因为信到布莱克沃特的时候,我正发着高烧,昏睡不醒。

“克尔先生也给你写信了,是吗?”我问。

“是的,他写信给我说,他收到一个署名给他的信封,是你的笔迹,但是里面只有一张白纸,一个字也没有。他给你写过信,但没收到回音。我不明白他为什么叫解释这个迷,我就这么跟他说的。”

真是挺帮忙的,我心里恨恨地想。现在说什么也没用了。“再没接到我的来信,你不感到奇怪吗?”

“我的确感到奇怪,直到我的那个外国妹夫,福斯科伯爵过来看我,我才明白发生了什么。他可真胖!”费尔利先生闭上眼睛,陷入回忆之中,“但是他走路却很轻。他告诉我你病得非常厉害,所以没有回信。听说你生病我非常震惊,也很难过。可是,伯爵没完没了地跟我说话——我简直觉得他不想走了!”

“是他让你给劳拉写信的吧。”我尽量用平和的语气说。

“是的,他请求我——实际上是命令我——让劳拉马上回到这儿来。他说劳拉非常紧张害怕,在你的房间里也帮不了什么忙。而且珀西瓦尔爵士一天比一天危险。旅途中不会有问题,因为他和妻子刚刚在伦敦租了一栋房子,劳拉可以先到伦敦,在他们那里住一晚,第二天再赶往坎伯兰郡。”

“所以,你就写了那封信,让他拿走了?”我问。

“这有什么不好吗?不管怎样,我根本不相信劳拉会在你病重的时候丢下你不管。而且我怎么知道将要发生什么事?谁也不能把事情怪到我头上……”

*  *  *

现在我知道究竟是谁在搞鬼了,但是把各种消息都串起来颇费了一些时间。我刚从昏迷中醒来,注意到周围的时候,对信的事自然一无所知。我只知道自己不在原来的卧室,一位外国女士在旁边照顾我。我不知道她是谁,她也不回答我的任何问题。因此,几天后当米切尔森太太熟悉的脸出现在我面前时,我大大地松了一口气。

“噢,米切尔森太太,”我说,“见到你真是太高兴了。快告诉我到底发生了什么?”

“你得了斑疹伤寒,哈尔库姆小姐。你病得很厉害。不过,我很高兴你现在恢复得很好。”

“斑疹伤寒!怪不得我这么虚弱。我妹妹,格莱德夫人——我希望她没被传染吧?”

“没有,她没有被传染。”

米切尔森太太不敢正眼看我,我开始担心起来,她是不是害怕告诉我什么事情?

“我妹妹病了吗?米切尔森太太,我必须知道真相!”

“没有,她没病。不过……不过她已经不在这儿了。她昨天去了伦敦,准备今天去利默里奇。”

我盯着她。劳拉走了?我不信。这说明什么呢?出了可怕的事?我记起了在游廊顶上听到的谈话,心里充满了恐惧。

“那珀西瓦尔爵士……?”我无法把话讲完。

“珀西瓦尔爵士昨晚离开庄园,到国外去了,”她说,“伯爵夫妇去了伦敦,仆人们全都遣散了,就剩下一个厨师和一个园丁。庄园里只有你和我了,哈尔库姆小姐。”

这个消息对我的震动太大,我感到一阵眩晕,米切尔森太太赶忙去为我拿了杯水来。

“哦,哈尔库姆小姐,真抱歉,”米切尔森太太说,“你别担心,一定要好好休息,试着睡一会儿吧。”

后来,我身上有些力气了,我们又聊起来。“告诉我,自从我生病那天起都发生了什么?”我恳求米切尔森太太,“我一定要知道出了什么事。”

“好吧,哈尔库姆小姐。头一天早上,一个仆人发现你躺在床上,发着高烧,手里还紧紧握着钢笔。我们很快叫来了一位医生,道森先生。他说你病得很厉害。伯爵夫人和我一起照顾你——格莱德夫人也想帮忙,但是看到你昏迷的样子,她很难过,不住地哭。

“珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵也都为你担心,不过他们两人好像还在为别的事担心。实际上,伯爵在湖边呆了三天,就在那个老船屋里。我记得他有一次回来,我正路过大厅。这时,珀西瓦尔爵士从书房冲出来问他:‘找到她了吗?’我没听到回答,也不知道他们说的是谁。”

我非常清楚他们说的是谁,明显米切尔森太太不知道,所以我没有说话。

“你烧得越来越厉害,”米切尔森太太接着说,“伯爵说我们需要找一个护士帮忙,于是福斯科夫人坐火车去了伦敦,带回了鲁贝尔太太。”

“就是那位在你来之前照顾我的外国女士吗,米切尔森太太?”

“对,就是她。她很少说话,但很能干。我对她干活儿挑不出任何毛病。道森先生,那位医生,对她有怀疑,因为她是伯爵推荐的,而道森先生一点儿也不喜欢伯爵。”

“为什么呢?”我问。

“你知道伯爵懂得许多医学知识,他不断地向道森先生提出给你退烧的办法。道森先生非常生气,说这是干涉他的工作。但实际上,小姐,伯爵比道森先生更早地看出你得了斑疹伤寒。他——我是说伯爵——到伦敦去了一星期,回来后看了你一眼就说是‘斑疹伤寒’。道森先生从伦敦又请来一位医生,也说是斑疹伤寒。接下来的十天我们大家都非常担心,你当时有生命危险。不过最后,医生说你已经度过了危险期,只要得到精心照顾,就会好起来。听到这个好消息,格莱德夫人过于高兴,结果她自己病倒了,不得不卧床休息。”

“我妹妹的身体一直很弱。”我说。

“是的,她的身体不太好。不过,哈尔库姆小姐,就在这个时候,令人心烦的事接二连三地发生了。先是伯爵和道森先生大吵了一架,道森先生走了,他说不愿意再干了。然后,珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我他准备关闭庄园。他说等你和格莱德夫人能出门旅行了,就应该离开这里,换换环境。他让我辞退了所有的仆人,只留下一个女仆做饭,还有一个园丁。真是难以想象!就是这样!我跟你说,哈尔库姆小姐,要不是担心你和格莱德夫人,我当时马上就不干了!

“最后一件事非常奇怪,”米切尔森太太摇摇头接着说,“珀西瓦尔爵士说,你和格莱德夫人到海滨小城托基呆一段时间会对你们有好处。他叫我去那里找一栋合适的房子租下来,还告诉我只能花多少钱。唉,我知道钱不够。我现在真希望没去那个地方,但他是东家,我想我不能不听他的吩咐。我走了两天,昨天回来的。我告诉珀西瓦尔爵士用那么少的钱根本不可能租到房子。他对我的回复一点儿也不感兴趣,只是说伯爵夫妇已经离开布莱克沃特,去伦敦的新居了。”

米切尔森太太不安地看着我。“我想下面的事情一定会让你难过,”她说,“可怜的格莱德夫人让她丈夫骗惨了。”

“我不会感到惊讶的,”我轻声说,“请接着讲。”

“见过了珀西瓦尔爵士,我上楼去看你和格莱德夫人。你妹妹虽说还很虚弱,但已经好多了。她要起来到你的房间看你。我帮她穿好衣服。在走廊里我们碰到了珀西瓦尔爵士。

“‘如果你是去看你的姐姐,你不会找到她了,’珀西瓦尔爵士说,‘她昨天同福斯科夫妇离开了这里。她决定跟他们顺路到伦敦,然后去利默里奇。鲁贝尔太太也走了,她要在路上照看你姐姐。你要是不信我的话,可以到她的房间看看。’

“听到这些,我大吃一惊。格莱德夫人的脸变得煞白。她几乎在走廊里跑起来,一把推开你的房门,里面空无一人。

“然后她冲着珀西瓦尔爵士叫起来:‘玛丽安病得那么厉害,根本不能旅行。即使要去的话,她也不会不跟我道别就走。为什么她要一个人去利默里奇,把我留在布莱克沃特?’

“‘因为你叔叔要先跟你姐姐见面,再见你,’珀西瓦尔爵士说,‘难道你忘了在你姐姐刚病的时候,他写来的信了吗?’

“整个谈话中,哈尔库姆小姐,我觉得珀西瓦尔爵士显得很怪——又烦躁,又紧张,跟平时的他一点儿也不一样。说完,他就转身走开了。格莱德夫人害怕得直哆嗦,她看着我,眼睛里充满了恐惧。‘我姐姐出事了。我必须去找她,我必须亲眼看到她平安无事。米切尔森太太,请和我一起去找珀西瓦尔爵士。请陪我去!’她紧紧地抓着我的胳膊,我只好跟她一起下楼。

“珀西瓦尔爵士在餐厅喝酒,我们在的那一会儿,他就至少喝了四杯,哈尔库姆小姐。我觉得格莱德夫人很勇敢。她说:‘如果姐姐可以旅行,那我也可以。请允许我乘下午的火车去追她。’

“珀西瓦尔爵士对她非常无理、粗暴。‘你可以明天去,’他说,‘我会给福斯科写信。他会到车站接你,你晚上就住他那里。’

“格莱德夫人扶着我胳膊的手开始抖得很厉害。‘我不想住在伯爵家。’她说。

“珀西瓦尔爵士发怒了。‘为什么?’他大声嚷道,‘在你姑妈家过夜有什么不好?你姐姐昨天途中就是在那里过夜的,你也一样。这也是你叔叔费尔利先生的要求。给——这是他的信,我忘了给你了。’

“可怜的格莱德夫人哆嗦得很厉害,她把信交给我,让我念给她听。信很短,我还一字不差地记着:亲爱的劳拉,请在方便的时候回来。途中在姑妈家过夜。听说玛丽安病了,我非常难过。爱你的叔叔,弗雷德里克·费尔利。

“格莱德夫人没有再继续争下去,我们两人回到楼上。我觉得这样做很明智,哈尔库姆小姐,我不明白格莱德夫人为什么那么害怕福斯科伯爵。她在房间里走来走去,轻声自言自语:‘可怜的玛丽安——落到那个可怕的人手里!我一定要找到她,哪怕是到福斯科伯爵家里也要找到她。’

“第二天,我帮格莱德夫人准备好一切,陪她来到车站。‘如果玛丽安已经回利默里奇了,我就不住在伯爵家,’她告诉我,‘我会去找维西夫人,我原来的家庭教师。”火车开的时候,透过车窗我看到她苍白、恐慌的脸。我很为她难过。

“然后我回到这儿,竟然看到鲁贝尔太太在花园散步,哈尔库姆小姐,你知道我有多么惊讶!‘怎么在这儿?’我问,‘你不是和福斯科伯爵一家还有哈尔库姆小姐去伦敦了嘛!’后来事情慢慢都清楚了。你还在庄园。趁我去托基的时候,他们把你搬到了庄园里一个没人住的房间藏起来了。他们搬动你的时候,你肯定在昏睡。也许他们给你吃了药——我不清楚。这时,珀西瓦尔爵士过来给了我如下的解释。他说这一切都是为了他妻子好,她需要换个环境,假如她知道你还在庄园,是不会去利默里奇的。他说话时怒气冲冲的,我没敢说什么。

“你看,哈尔库姆小姐,这就是可怜的格莱德夫人受骗的经过。多么恶毒、多么不近人情。我本来要马上辞职的,但是珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我,鲁贝尔太太要走了,要是我也走的话,就没人照顾你了。这不,我就又留了下来。珀西瓦尔爵士是昨晚离开的,我刚才告诉过你。听园丁说,他跟疯了似的。他吩咐准备马车,然后仿佛落荒而逃的囚犯般驾车走了,嘴里还说什么这个家像个监狱,他再也不想回来了。我真的希望,哈尔库姆小姐,我再也不会见到那个人了。”

可怜的劳拉——她肯定受了很多罪!我现在一点儿办法也没有,也无法去追她,我现在虚弱得站都站不起来。我真的希望劳拉能够发现这个骗局,尽快地给我写信,告诉我她平安无事。

*  *  *

几天后来了一封信,但不是给我的,也不是劳拉写来的,而是福斯科夫人写给米切尔森太太的。

米切尔森太太拿着那封信走进我的房间,后面跟着道森先生,他同意继续为我看病,因为伯爵已经走了。我看到他们两人的神色,从床上坐起来,心里很害怕。

“出了什么事?”我急切地问,“你们有可怕的消息要告诉我。我从你们的脸上能看出来。”

米切尔森太太在我的床边坐下,握住我的手。“你那可怜的、亲爱的妹妹,格莱德夫人……”她说。

我的周围变得一团漆黑,就像夜色降临一样,下面的话似乎是从很遥远的地方传来的。

“……她到伦敦的姑妈家以后就病倒了,第二天就死了,死得非常突然。她将被安葬在利默里奇,她母亲的墓地。”

*  *  *

我又病倒了,好心的米切尔森太太在道森先生的帮助下精心地照顾我。三个多星期的时间里,我都无法出门旅行。但我终于恢复了体力,离开了那个令人憎恨的庄园,回到利默里奇。米切尔森太太和我一同来到伦敦,我去见了克尔先生,向他讲述了我心中对妹妹死因的怀疑。他对这件事很关心,答应为我调查。

我到利默里奇几天后,克尔先生的信也寄到了那里。他从几个证人那里获得了证词,他相信没有任何可疑的事发生。他把证词的副本寄给了我。下面是福斯科的厨师赫斯特·平霍恩太太的笔录:


我是最近受雇于福斯科伯爵夫妇的,他们住在圣约翰伍德,弗雷斯特街5号。快7月底的一天,伯爵夫人的侄女,格莱德夫人来到伯爵家。她很快就病了。我看见她躺在沙发上,脸色苍白。我跑去叫医生,找来了古德里克先生。他给她做了检查,说她得了严重的心脏病。当天夜里,她病情加重。大约第二天早上5点,她失去了知觉。医生进来,用手摸了摸她的胸口,说她已经死了。医生说,因为伯爵是外国人,所以他得亲自到地区办公室报告人口死亡。福斯科伯爵夫妇对格莱德夫人的死非常伤心。格莱德夫人的丈夫在国外,因此他们安排了葬礼的有关事宜,葬礼安排在坎伯兰郡举行。


由于长时间生病,我现在还非常虚弱,此时绝望几乎将我击垮。我找不到什么朋友可以倾诉,茫然不知下面该如何是好。每天我都去教堂墓地,去给劳拉的墓献花,一遍又一遍地读着那些令我心碎的文字。


爱妻劳拉·格莱德之墓

生于1829年3月27日

卒于1850年7月25日

汉普郡布莱克沃特庄园

珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士立

4.Arrangements for a marriage

PART TWO
THE STORY TOLD BY MARIAN HALCOMBE
第二部分 玛丽安·哈尔库姆的讲述

4
Arrangements for a marriage

It was a sad day when Walter Hartright left us. Laura stayed in her room all day, and I felt sad and depressed. Poor Mr Gilmore must have had a dull time, and the next morning, when Laura reappeared looking pale and ill, I thought he seemed rather anxious about her. I was anxious too. Laura is such a sensitive and loving person that it was no surprise to me to find that she had grown fond of Walter. Indeed, I have grown fond of him myself. But I honestly believe that time will cure Laura of these feelings.

Two days after Walter left, Sir Percival Glyde arrived. He is forty-five years old but seems younger. He is handsome, and only a little bald, has perfect manners, and is pleasant, agreeable, and respectful. I really must try to like him.

In the afternoon, while Laura was out of the room, Sir Percival referred to Anne Catherick's letter.

'I read Mr Gilmore's letter to my lawyer,' he said, 'and I want to give you a full explanation. Mrs Catherick, you see, worked for me and my family for many years. Her marriage was unfortunate, in that her husband deserted her, and her only child, a girl, became mentally ill and needed to be put in an asylum. So, in recognition of Mrs Catherick's services, I agreed to pay the expenses of a private asylum for the girl. Unfortunately, the girl discovered this and consequently developed a hatred for me. She recently escaped from the asylum and I'm sure she wrote this letter because of her hatred for me. It's all very sad.'

Mr Gilmore found this explanation perfectly satisfactory, and said so. He then looked at me for agreement, but I was struggling with a sense of unease that I could not explain, and hesitated before answering. Sir Percival noticed this at once.

'May I beg you, Miss Halcombe,' he said politely, 'to write to Mrs Catherick to ask if these facts are true?'

I did not want to agree to this, but how could I refuse, without making the situation even more embarrassing than it already was? So I went to the desk, wrote a note, and gave it to him. Without looking at it, he put it in an envelope and wrote the address.

'Now that is done,' he said, 'may I ask if Anne Catherick spoke to Miss Fairlie, or to you?'

'No. She spoke to nobody except Mr Hartright,' I replied.

'Ah, yes, the drawing teacher,' he said thoughtfully. 'And did you discover where Anne Catherick was staying?'

I described the farm to him.

'It is my duty to try to find her,' he continued. 'Tomorrow I will go to this farm and make enquiries.' Soon afterwards he left to go up to his room.

*  *  *

That evening and the next day Sir Percival took every opportunity to bring Laura into the conversation, but she hardly took any notice. He went to the farm to make his enquiries about Anne Catherick, but learnt nothing. Then on Wednesday a letter came from Mrs Catherick — a short, business-like letter, thanking me for my note and saying that everything Sir Percival had told me was completely correct.

Why did I still have doubts? This, surely, was enough proof for anyone, but how I wished that Walter Hartright had been there to give his opinion! At Sir Percival's request I now had to give Laura his explanation of Anne Catherick's letter. She listened quietly and showed no emotion, but I noticed that on the table near her hand was the little book of Hartright's drawings. I also had to tell her that the reason for Sir Percival's visit was to fix the day of their marriage.

'I'm afraid he will ask you to decide quite soon, Laura.'

'Oh no, Marian! I can't do that!' she said. 'Please ask him, beg him, to allow me more time. I promise to give him a final answer before the end of the year, but not yet, please, not yet.'

Sir Percival agreed to this request, and when Mr Gilmore heard about it, he arranged to have a private talk with Laura.

'I have to return to London tomorrow,' he said to me, 'and I need to discuss the financial side of this marriage with Miss Fairlie before I go. As you know, she will inherit a great deal of money and property when she becomes twenty-one next March, and I must include all this in the marriage agreement in a way that reflects Miss Fairlie's own wishes, and is also acceptable to Sir Percival.'

He had the meeting with Laura the next morning, and in the afternoon he left for London, looking rather sad and thoughtful. Wondering what had been said, I hurried up to Laura's room.

'Oh, Marian, come in,' she said. 'I need to talk to you.'

'What is it, Laura? Is it about the marriage agreement?'

'No. I couldn't even bear to discuss that with Mr Gilmore. I'm ashamed to say that all I could do was cry. He was very kind and good, Marian, and he said that he would look after everything for me. No, what I wanted to tell you was this. I cannot bear the situation any longer. I must end it.'

Her eyes were bright and she spoke with great energy. I began to feel alarmed. 'What do you wish to do, Laura darling? Do you want to be released from your promise to marry Sir Percival?'

'No,' she said simply. 'I cannot break my promise to my father. But I want to tell the truth, and I will confess to Sir Percival that I love someone else.'

'Laura! He has no right to know that!' I said in amazement.

'I cannot deceive him,' she said. 'I have thought it over carefully. After I have told him, let him do as he wishes.'

I looked into her innocent, loving eyes and could say nothing. I just put my arms around her, trying not to cry myself.

'May I speak to him tomorrow, in your presence, Marian?'

I held her tight and agreed — though I was not sure I was doing the right thing. Indeed, I was not sure of anything. I could not understand how I had failed to see how deeply she loved Walter Hartright. For the first time in my life I had made a mistake about her. Now I realized that she would love him all her life.

*  *  *

The first thing that happened the next morning did nothing to make me feel more cheerful. A letter arrived for me from poor Walter Hartright. He had decided to leave England and asked me if I could help him find employment abroad. I was then alarmed to read that since his return to London he had neither seen nor heard anything of Anne Catherick, but suspected he had been watched and followed by strange men. I was worried about his state of mind, so I immediately wrote to some friends in London to ask if they could help him find a suitable job in another country. Laura, of course, knew nothing about these letters.

Sir Percival did not join us for breakfast, but sent a message, saying he would meet us at eleven o'clock, as arranged. Laura seemed calm and unusually self-controlled. I had never seen her like this. It was almost as if love had created a new force in her character.

At exactly eleven Sir Percival knocked and entered, with anxiety and worry in every line of his face. This meeting would decide his future life, and he obviously knew it.

'You may wonder, Sir Percival,' said Laura calmly, 'if I am going to ask to be released from my promise to marry you. I am not going to ask this. I respect my father's wishes too much.'

His face relaxed a little, but I saw one of his feet nervously beating the carpet.

'No, if we are going to withdraw from our planned marriage, it will be because of your wish, Sir Percival, not mine.'

'Mine?' he said in great surprise. 'What reason could I have for withdrawing?'

'A reason that is very hard to tell you,' she answered. 'There is a change in me.'

His face went so pale that even his lips lost their colour. He turned his head to one side.

'What change?' he asked, trying to hide his nervousness.

'When the promise was made two years ago,' she said, 'my love did not belong to anyone. Will you forgive me, Sir Percival, if I tell you that it now belongs to another person?'

Her tears started to fall, and Sir Percival hid his face behind his hand, so that it was impossible to know what he was thinking. He made no answer, and my temper got the better of me.

'Sir Percival!' I said sharply. 'Have you nothing to say? You have already heard more than you have a right to hear.'

'But I didn't ask for that right,' he said, avoiding my question.

'I wish you to understand,' Laura continued, 'that I will never see this person again, and that if you leave me, you only allow me to remain a single woman for the rest of my life. All I ask is that you forgive me and keep my secret.'

'I will do both those things,' he said. Then he looked at Laura, as if he was waiting to hear more.

'I think I have said enough to give you reason to withdraw from our marriage,' she added quietly.

'No. You have said enough to make it the dearest wish of my life to marry you,' he said, getting up and advancing towards her.

Laura gave a cry of surprise, but I had more than half expected this. Every word she had spoken had shown her honesty and her innocence, but these fine qualities had destroyed her own hopes of a release. Sir Percival understood very well the priceless value of a pure and true woman. Why would he give her up now?

'I will do everything I can to earn your love,' he said, 'and perhaps in time I will win it.'

'Never!' she answered, looking more beautiful than ever. 'I will be your true and loyal wife, but never your loving wife.'

'That is enough for me. I accept your loyalty and your truth,' he said, then raised her hand to his lips and silently left the room.

Laura sat without moving. I put my arm around her. At last she said,' I must resign myself, Marian. If you write to Walter, don't tell him how unhappy I am. And if I die first, please say to him, say what I could never say myself — say I loved him!'

Then she threw herself on the sofa and cried as if her heart was breaking, until at last she fell asleep.

*  *  *

In the days that followed it seemed that nothing could prevent this miserable marriage from taking place. I tried to make Laura change her mind, but she was determined to keep her promise, and to do her duty. Mr Fairlie was, of course, very happy that the 'family worry' was now at an end and suggested that the sooner his niece got married the better. This made me very angry, but when I told Laura, I was surprised by her calm reply.

'My uncle is right. I have caused trouble and anxiety to everyone. Let Sir Percival decide on the day for our marriage.'

Sir Percival was delighted by this news, and he then left to prepare for the bride's reception at his house in Hampshire.

I thought that a change would do Laura good, so I arranged for us both to go and stay with some friends in Yorkshire. She passively agreed with my idea. I also wrote to Mr Gilmore, telling him this marriage would now take place.

The next day I received a letter from Walter Hartright, saying that my friends had got him a job on an expedition to Central America. He was going to be the artist for the expedition. He was leaving on 21st November and would be away for six months. I could only hope that this was for the best.

Laura and I then departed for Yorkshire but after only nine days there we received a letter from Mr Fairlie, calling us back to Limmeridge immediately. What could this mean, I wondered?

I found out as soon as we arrived. Mr Fairlie and Sir Percival had agreed on 22nd December for the wedding, provided that Laura also agreed. Would I please persuade her, said Mr Fairlie. His nerves were much too bad to talk to her himself.

I also found our old friend Mr Gilmore, who had come to talk to Mr Fairlie about the marriage agreement. He was leaving that day, and was anxious to speak to me alone before he left.

'I am not at all happy about the financial arrangements in the agreement, Miss Halcombe,' he said, 'but there is nothing I can do about it. I know how fond you are of your sister and I think you ought to know why I am concerned.

'As you will know,' he went on, 'there are three parts to Miss Fairlie's inheritance. Firstly, on Mr Fairlie's death, she will inherit the Limmeridge property and land, and the income from it. If she dies childless, this property will go to a cousin, but the income from it will go to her husband during his lifetime. If she has a son, everything — property and income — will go to the son. No problems there.

'Secondly, when Miss Fairlie reaches the age of twenty-one next March, she will receive the income from £10,000. This £10,000 will go to her aunt Eleanor, if Miss Fairlie dies before her aunt — which is not very likely. The reason Miss Fairlie's father did not leave the £10,000 to his sister Eleanor on his death was that he disapproved strongly of her marriage to a foreigner, even though the man was an Italian nobleman, Count Fosco.'

'Yes, Laura has told me about that,' I said.

'Well,' Mr Gilmore went on, 'there are no problems there either. But the third part of Miss Fairlie's inheritance is more difficult. Next March she will also inherit £20,000, which will be her own money completely. If she dies before her husband, the income from the £20,000 will go to Sir Percival for his lifetime, and the capital will go to their children. If there are no children to inherit the capital, Miss Fairlie can choose relations and friends to inherit the money when she dies. That's what I proposed, but Sir Percival's lawyer did not accept it. He insists that if Sir Percival survives his wife and there are no children, Sir Percival should receive the capital. In that case, nothing will go to any other member of the family, including you, Miss Halcombe.'

Mr Gilmore sighed deeply. 'I protested strongly. I tried every argument I could, but nothing would change the lawyer's mind. I've discovered, you see, that Sir Percival is always in debt and always in need of cash. My last effort has been to come here, to try and persuade Mr Fairlie to oppose this demand from Sir Percival's lawyer. I am sorry to say I have not succeeded. Mr Fairlie wishes to avoid all responsibility for his niece's marriage arrangements. He says that his niece will not die before Sir Percival anyway, so what is there to worry about?'

Mr Gilmore stood up to go and picked up his hat. 'I shall complete the agreement and send it in. I have no choice. If I don't do it, Mr Fairlie will find another lawyer who will. But I tell you, Miss Halcombe, no daughter of mine should be married to any man alive under such an agreement as I am forced to make for Miss Fairlie.'

With that, he shook my hand, and without another word he went away to catch his train back to London.

After he had gone, I tried to be sensible. Mr Fairlie was Laura's guardian and if he chose to accept this agreement, there was nothing I could do about it. It was just one more worry about this dreadful marriage. A more immediate worry was the date of the wedding. When I told Laura, she turned pale and trembled.

'Not so soon!' she cried. 'Oh, Marian, not so soon!'

'Well, let me speak to Mr Fairlie, then,' I said, ready to fight for her. 'I will try to change it.'

'No,' she said faintly. 'Too late, Marian, too late! It will only make more trouble. Please tell my uncle I agree.'

I think I would have cried if I had not been so angry. I rushed into Mr Fairlie's room and shouted loudly, 'Laura agrees to the twenty-second' — and rushed out again, banging the door noisily. I hoped I had destroyed his nerves for the whole day.

*  *  *

After this the wedding preparations began. The dressmakers came and went all the time; there was packing, and planning, and all kinds of arrangements to make. We heard every day from Sir Percival. After the wedding he proposed to take Laura to Italy for six months. They would meet a number of Sir Percival's friends there, including his best and oldest friend, Count Fosco, whose wife, of course, was Laura's Aunt Eleanor. At least this marriage would bring Laura and her aunt together again, I thought. The Count himself sounded a most interesting person, and I rather hoped that I would meet him one day.

All too quickly the days passed. Sir Percival arrived, looking a little tired and anxious but talking and laughing like the happiest of men. The evening after he arrived he went off to the village to ask if anyone had any news of Anne Catherick. No one had heard anything, but I had to admit that it was good of him to continue to try to help her. I have decided to try and think better of him. After all, what reason do I have to distrust him? I am sure that I could like him if I really tried.

It is getting quite easy to like him. Today I spoke to him about the dearest wish of both Laura and myself — that I should be able to live with Laura after her marriage, just as I had always lived with her before. He agreed instantly and seemed delighted with the plan. I would be the ideal, the perfect companion for his wife, he said. Yes, I am beginning to like Sir Percival very much.

*  *  *

I hate Sir Percival! He has no sensitivity, no kindness, no good feeling. Last night he whispered something in Laura's ear — she has refused to tell me what it was — and her face turned white with misery. He took no notice at all, and all my suspicions of him have returned. Is he now showing his true character? He seems more restless and nervous than before, and is often sharp and bad-tempered. I have this strange idea that something might happen to prevent the marriage — and that he is afraid of that. A foolish thought. I must forget it.

As the day of our separation grows nearer, Laura cannot bear to have me out of her sight. I must be brave and cheerful, for her sake, but my fear will not go away. Will this marriage be the one terrible mistake of her life, and the one hopeless sorrow of mine?

*  *  *

It is the twenty-second. No more time for tears. Laura is dressed, and we leave for the church. By eleven o'clock they are married. By three o'clock they are gone. I am blind with crying and can write no more...


cure v. restore to health 治愈

respectful adj. showing deference 有礼貌的

desert v. abandon 抛弃

private adj. independent; not connected with government, public service, etc. 私立的

hesitate v. show or feel uncertainty or indecision 犹豫

embarrassing adj. causing to feel awkward or self-conscious or ashamed 令人难堪的;使人尴尬的

thoughtfully adv. engaged in or given to meditation 沉思地;若有所思地

business-like adj. serious, formal 正式的

emotion n. a strong mental or instinctive feeling 情感

inherit v. receive by legal descent or succession 继承

presence n. the state or condition of being present 在场

release v. set free; liberate 解除

withdraw v. discontinue, cancel 撤出;退出

advance v. move forward 向前走

destroy v. spoil utterly 破坏

in time eventually 最终

loyal adj. true, faithful 忠贞的

resign v. give up 退让

passively adv. offering no objection 被动地;不反对

expedition n. a journey for a particular purpose 为特别目的的旅行

provided conj. on the condition that 只要

likely adj. probable 可能的

disapprove v. have or express an unfavourable opinion 反对

capital n. money used to produce more wealth 资金

protest v. make a protest against an action or proposal 抗议;反对

dreadful adj. terrible, inspiring fear or awe 可怕的

bang v. shut noisily 用力关上

distrust v. have no trust or confidence in, doubt 不相信;怀疑

instantly adv. occurring immediately 立即;即刻

ideal adj. perfect, excellent 最好的

4.准备婚事

沃尔特·哈特里特先生离开的那天,我们都很难过。劳拉一整天呆在自己的房间里不出来,我的心情也很沉闷。可怜的吉尔摩先生肯定觉得那天很无聊。第二天早晨,劳拉从房间出来的时候,面容憔悴,像是病了一场。我觉得吉尔摩先生似乎很为她担心,我也为她担心。劳拉是个敏感而深情的人,她喜欢上沃尔特我一点儿也不觉得奇怪。其实,我自己也喜欢他。但是,我真心希望时间能够治愈劳拉的情伤。

沃尔特离开两天以后,珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士来了。他45岁,但看上去比实际年龄要年轻一些。他很英俊,稍有些秃顶,举止优雅,温和有礼。我尽力让自己对这个人产生好感。

下午,劳拉不在房里的时候,珀西瓦尔爵士提到了安妮·凯瑟里克的那封信。

“我看了吉尔摩先生给我律师的信,”他说,“我想跟你们好好地解释一下。凯瑟里克太太为我和我的家庭工作了许多年,她的婚姻很不幸,她丈夫抛弃了她,她的独生女精神有毛病,需要送进精神病院。所以,为了感谢凯瑟里克太太多年来的服务,我答应承担送她女儿去一家私立精神病院的所有费用。但不幸的是,女孩知道以后,就开始对我怀恨在心。她不久前从精神病院逃走了,我敢肯定是她出于对我的仇恨写了这封信。这太让人伤心了。”

吉尔摩先生认为这个解释非常令人满意,他说完看了看我,希望我也同意他的说法。可是,我有一种说不清的不安的感觉,犹豫了一会儿,没有说话。珀西瓦尔爵士立刻注意到了我的反应。

“哈尔库姆小姐,能否请你给凯瑟里克太太写封信,问问她这些是不是真的呢?”他非常客气地说。

我不想答应他的要求,但是又怎么好拒绝呢?拒绝只能把事情弄得越来越尴尬。于是,我走到桌旁,写了封短信,然后交给了珀西瓦尔。他看也没看就把信装进信封,写上了地址。

“好了,这件事就这样了,”他说,“请问安妮·凯瑟里克跟费尔利小姐或者你谈过吗?”

“没有。她只跟哈特里特先生谈过。”我告诉他。

“噢,是了,那位绘画教师,”他若有所思地说,“你们找到安妮·凯瑟里克的住处了吗?”

我跟他讲了农场的情况。

“找到她是我的责任,”他接着说,“明天我就去农场问问。”不一会儿,他就上楼回他的房间去了。

*  *  *

那天晚上以及第二天,珀西瓦尔爵士努力寻找一切机会同劳拉讲话,但劳拉一直心不在焉。珀西瓦尔去农场调查,结果一无所获。星期三凯瑟里克太太来信了,那是一封简短而又正式的信。信中感谢我给她写信,并且说珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我的都是事实。

为什么我还是有疑问呢?这封信对谁来讲都是充分的证据,可我还是很希望沃尔特·哈特里特先生能在这儿发表一下他的看法。应珀西瓦尔爵士的要求,我得向劳拉解释一下安妮·凯瑟里克来信的事情。她静静地听着,脸上毫无表情。我注意到她手边的桌上放着哈特里特先生的画册。我还得告诉她,珀西瓦尔爵士此行的目的是要确定他们结婚的日期。

“恐怕他会让你马上做决定,劳拉。”

“噢,不行,玛丽安!我不能!”她说,“请帮我问问他,恳求他再给我些时间。我保证年底以前给他最终的答复,但是现在不行,现在不行。”

珀西瓦尔爵士答应了这个要求。吉尔摩先生得知事情的经过后,准备同劳拉单独谈谈。

“我明天必须回伦敦去,”吉尔摩先生对我说,“走之前,我需要和费尔利小姐谈一下这桩婚事的财务问题。你知道,明年3月她21岁的时候,她会继承一大笔财产,我必须把这些都写进结婚协议中去,让协议既能反映费尔利小姐的愿望,也能令珀西瓦尔爵士接受。”

转天上午,吉尔摩先生和劳拉谈了话。下午,他动身去伦敦时,看上去忧心忡忡。不知道他们都说了些什么,我连忙赶去劳拉的房间。

“噢,玛丽安,快进来,我有话跟你说。”劳拉说。

“出了什么事,劳拉?是结婚协议的事吗?”

“不是。我简直没办法跟吉尔摩先生谈这件事。我真不好意思说出口,刚才我只是一个劲儿地哭,什么也没说。吉尔摩先生非常善良,玛丽安,他告诉我,他会帮我打理一切。我现在要告诉你的是,我再也受不了这种局面了,我必须结束这种状况。”

她的眼睛很亮,语气也很坚决。我感到有些害怕,“你想要做什么,亲爱的劳拉?你要解除同珀西瓦尔爵士的婚约吗?”

“不是的,”她回答,“我不能打破对父亲的承诺。但是,我要说出真话,我要告诉珀西瓦尔爵士我爱上了别人。”

“劳拉!他无权知道这件事!”我惊讶地说。

“我不能欺骗他,”她说,“我已经想好了。我把真相告诉他,让他决定该怎么办。”

我看着她纯洁、深情的眼神,一句话也说不出来。我伸手抱住她,尽量控制自己不哭出来。

“明天我就跟他说,你跟我去,好吗,玛丽安?”

我紧紧地抱着她,答应了她的请求——我也不清楚自己做的是对是错。我对什么都没了把握。我不明白为什么我没发觉她爱沃尔特·哈特里特爱得那么深。我第一次对她做出了错误的判断。现在我知道,她会一辈子爱着他。

*  *  *

第二天早晨发生的事让我一点儿也高兴不起来,可怜的沃尔特·哈特里特来信说他决定离开英国,问我能否帮他在国外找份工作。信后面的内容使我非常担心。他回伦敦以后,既没有见到安妮·凯瑟里克,也没有打听到她的任何消息,反而觉得有陌生人在盯他的梢。我担心他情绪不稳,赶忙给几个在伦敦的朋友写信,看他们能不能帮他在国外找到一份合适的工作。当然,劳拉对信的事一无所知。

珀西瓦尔爵士没有来同我们一起吃早餐,他捎话给我们说他会按约定11点来见我们。劳拉超乎寻常的冷静、镇定。我从未见她这样过,好像爱情使她更坚强了。

11点整,珀西瓦尔爵士敲门进来。他满脸紧张和不安。这次谈话将会决定他今后的生活,他显然非常清楚这一点。

“你可能会认为我是来请求与你解除婚约的,珀西瓦尔爵士,”劳拉冷静地说,“我不是来做这样的请求的,我非常尊重父亲的意愿。”

珀西瓦尔爵士的表情放松了一些,但我看到他的一只脚在紧张地敲打着地毯。

“我不会那样做的,如果我们两人要解除婚约的话,那一定是出于你的意愿,珀西瓦尔爵士,而不会是我的。”

“我的意愿?”他吃惊地说,“我能有什么理由解除婚约呢?”

“一个很难向你启齿的理由,我这里有了些变故。”劳拉回答。

珀西瓦尔的脸色变得煞白,双唇一点儿血色都没有。他把脸转向一侧。

“什么变故?”他尽量掩饰着自己的紧张。

“两年前约定婚事的时候,我的爱不属于任何人,”劳拉接着说,“如果我告诉你,珀西瓦尔爵士,我的爱现在属于另一个人,你会原谅我吗?”

她的眼泪流了下来。珀西瓦尔爵士用手捂住了脸,让人看不出他是怎么想的。他一句话也不说,我的直脾气可受不了了。

“珀西瓦尔爵士!”我大声问道,“你不想说点儿什么吗?你已经听到了本来你无权听到的事情。”

“可我并没有要求这权利。”他回避了我的问题。

“我想告诉你,”劳拉继续说,“我再也见不到那个人了。如果你和我分手,我会终身不嫁。我只请求你原谅我,并为我保守秘密。”

“两件事我都答应。”珀西瓦尔说完,看了看劳拉,似乎等着她再说些什么。

“我想我已经讲了足够的理由让你解除婚约。”劳拉平静地说。

“不,你说了这么多,我唯一的感觉是我一生最大的愿望就是同你结婚。”说着,他起身朝劳拉走过来。

劳拉惊讶得“咦”了一声,我倒是猜到了几分他会这么说。劳拉讲的每一句话都透出她的真诚和纯洁,但是这样良好的品德却毁掉了她解脱的希望。珀西瓦尔爵士很清楚,一个纯洁、真诚的女人是无价之宝。他为什么要放弃呢?

“我会尽一切所能去赢得你的爱,也许最终我会成功的。”珀西瓦尔说。

“永远也不会的!”劳拉看上去更美了,“我会是你忠实的妻子,但永远不会爱你。”

“这就足够了。我愿意接受你的忠贞和真诚。”说罢,他拿起劳拉的手吻了吻,然后默默地走出房间。

劳拉坐在那里一动不动,我伸出手搂住她。最后她开口道:“我必须退让,玛丽安。你给沃尔特写信时,不要告诉他我不开心。假如我比他先死了,你一定对他说,说我不能亲口对他说的话——我爱他!”

说完,她扑在沙发上放声痛哭,哭得好像心都碎了一样,最后她趴在那儿睡着了。

*  *  *

接下来的日子里,好像什么也阻止不了这桩不幸的婚姻。我力图让劳拉改变主意,但她却坚持要恪守诺言,履行义务。费尔利先生自然非常高兴,因为这场“家庭烦恼”终于画上了句号。他建议他的侄女越早结婚越好。这令我很气愤,但我把这话告诉劳拉后,她的平静反应倒让我吃了一惊。

“叔叔说的对,我给大家带来了太多麻烦。让珀西瓦尔爵士决定我们的结婚日期吧。”

珀西瓦尔爵士对此非常高兴,他离开庄园回汉普郡,准备迎接新娘。

我想换一个环境肯定对劳拉有好处,于是安排我们两人到约克郡的朋友那里呆一段时间。她同意了。我还给吉尔摩先生写了信,告诉他这桩婚事可以继续了。

第二天,我收到了沃尔特·哈特里特的来信,信中说我的朋友为他找到一份工作,要到中美洲长途旅行,他做随行的画家,11月21号动身,行程6个月。我衷心希望这是最好的安排。

劳拉和我动身前往约克郡。但是,刚刚在那里住了9天,我们就收到费尔利先生的信,让我们立即返回利默里奇。这意味着什么呢,我想不出。

一回来我就明白了。费尔利先生和珀西瓦尔爵士已经把婚礼的时间定在12月22日,就等劳拉点头同意了。费尔利先生问我可不可以说服劳拉同意这个日期,他本人神经不好,无法跟她谈。

我见到了我们的老朋友吉尔摩先生,他是来同费尔利先生谈有关结婚协议的事的。他当天就要离开庄园,着急想与我单独谈谈。

“哈尔库姆小姐,我对结婚协议中的财务安排非常不满意,”他对我说,“但是我一点儿办法也没有。我知道你多么爱你的妹妹,所以我认为你应该知道我为什么担心。

“你知道,”他接着说,“费尔利小姐继承的财产包括三部分。第一,费尔利先生死后,她会继承利默里奇的财产和土地以及由此产生的收入。如果她死后没有孩子,这份财产将转到她的一个亲戚名下,但财产的收入在她丈夫在世的时候将归他所有。如果她有个儿子,所有的财产和收入都归她的儿子。这一点没有任何问题。

“第二,明年3月费尔利小姐21岁的时候,她将得到10,000英镑的收入。如果费尔利小姐在她姑妈埃莉诺之前死去,这笔钱就归她姑妈,这当然不大可能。费尔利小姐的父亲之所以死的时候没有把这10,000英镑留给他的妹妹埃莉诺,是因为他强烈反对她嫁给一个外国人,虽然那个人是位意大利贵族,福斯科伯爵。”

“是的,劳拉跟我说过这件事。”我说。

“好吧,”吉尔摩先生接着说,“这一部分也没有问题。可是第三部分就不那么简单了。明年3月,她还将继承20,000英镑,这完全是属于她个人的一笔钱。如果她先于她丈夫死去,从这20,000英镑获得的收入将属于珀西瓦尔爵士,直至他去世;而这20,000英镑本金将归他们的孩子所有。假如没有孩子继承这笔钱,费尔利小姐死的时候,可以选择亲属或朋友继承。这是我的建议。但是,珀西瓦尔爵士的律师拒不接受这一点,他坚持认为,如果珀西瓦尔爵士死在他妻子后面,同时他们又没有孩子,珀西瓦尔就应该得到这笔钱。那样的话,费尔利家族的任何其他人,包括你在内,都得不到一分钱,哈尔库姆小姐。”

吉尔摩先生长叹了一口气,“我坚决反对这样。我极力争取,但还是无法让那位律师改变主意。我发现珀西瓦尔爵士长期欠债,急需现金。我最后的努力就是来这里试图说服费尔利先生反对珀西瓦尔爵士律师的要求,非常遗憾,我没有成功。对他侄女的这桩婚事费尔利先生什么也不想管。他说他侄女不会死在珀西瓦尔爵士前面的,又有什么可担心的呢?”

吉尔摩先生站起身,拿起帽子准备离开,“我会把协议拟好,并把它寄给你们。我没别的办法,我不这样做,费尔利先生也会再找一名律师这样做的。不过,我跟你说,哈尔库姆小姐,我是不会让我女儿根据我被迫为费尔利小姐准备的这样一份协议嫁人的。”

说完,他握了握我的手,一言不发地离开这里,去赶回伦敦的火车了。

吉尔摩先生走后,我尽量保持理智。费尔利先生是劳拉的监护人,如果他愿意接受这份协议,我做什么都无济于事。这是这桩可怕婚姻的又一个令人担忧的地方。现在更紧迫的事情是结婚日期。我把结婚的日期告诉劳拉以后,她的脸色立刻变白了,身体也开始发抖。

alt

“不要这么快!”她喊道,“噢,玛丽安,不要这么快!”

“好吧,那我去和费尔利先生说,”我这样说着,已经做好了为她去抗争的准备,“我会尽力去改变这个日期。”

“算了吧,”她有气无力地说,“一切都太晚了,玛丽安,太晚了!抗争只能带来更多的麻烦。去告诉我叔叔,我同意了。”

我要不是气愤至极,肯定就会哭出声来。我冲进费尔利先生的房间,大声喊道:“劳拉同意22日结婚!”——然后冲出去,很响地甩上门。但愿我能让他的神经一整天都不得安宁。

*  *  *

这以后,婚礼的准备工作开始了。整天都有裁缝进进出出;要收拾行李,做计划,进行各种安排。我们每天都能收到珀西瓦尔爵士的来信,他提议婚礼之后带劳拉到意大利住六个月,见一些珀西瓦尔的朋友,包括他最好的老朋友福斯科伯爵。福斯科伯爵的妻子当然就是劳拉的姑妈埃莉诺。这桩婚姻起码可以让劳拉和她的姑妈重逢,我这样想着。听起来伯爵本人倒是一个非常有趣的人,我也想有朝一日能见见他。

日子很快地过去了。珀西瓦尔爵士终于来了。他看上去有些疲倦和不安,但是有说有笑的仿佛世界上最幸福的男人就是他。他来的当天晚上去了村子里,打听是否有人知道安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。虽然没人给他提供什么消息,但我必须承认他继续寻求帮助她,这是善举。我决定努力改变对他不好的看法,说到底,我有什么理由不信任他呢?我相信如果真的努力尝试,我可能会喜欢他的。

喜欢他是很容易的。今天我同他说起劳拉与我的最大愿望——在劳拉结婚之后,我和她还能像以前一样住在一起。他立刻就答应了,而且很高兴能有这样的安排。他说我将是他妻子最理想、最合适的陪伴。是啊,我开始非常喜欢珀西瓦尔爵士了。

*  *  *

我恨珀西瓦尔爵士!他不善解人意,缺乏同情心,没有好心肠。昨天晚上,他跟劳拉耳语了些什么——劳拉不愿告诉我具体内容——她的脸色变得非常难看。而他却一点儿没在意。我以前对他所有的怀疑又出现了。现在,他是不是露出了他的本来面目?他变得比以往更加焦躁不安,经常言语尖刻,发脾气。我有个奇怪的想法,是不是会有什么事阻止这桩婚姻,而又非常害怕那样的结局。这是胡思乱想,我不能当真。

我们分别的日子一天天临近了,劳拉一刻也不肯离开我。为了她,我必须勇敢些,高兴起来。但是,我的担心没有消失。这桩婚姻会成为劳拉一生的大错吗?会成为我伤心、痛苦的根源吗?

*  *  *

22日到了。时间到了,不能再哭了。劳拉梳妆打扮完毕,我们要去教堂了。11点钟,婚礼就会结束。下午3点,他们就离开这里了。我已经哭得视线模糊,无法继续写下去了……

5
A document for signature

Six long, lonely months passed, and I had little to do but think of absent friends. I received a cheerful letter from Walter Hartright after he arrived in Honduras, and just before he set off with the expedition into the forest. Since then, I have heard nothing. There was no news of Anne Catherick or Mrs Clements. Poor Mr Gilmore fell very ill and had to give up work, but his business is continued by his partner, Mr Kyrle. Mrs Vesey has moved to London to live with her sister, and Mr Fairlie, I believe, is secretly delighted to have his house free of women.

Most of all, of course, I thought about Laura. Many letters came from her, but she said very little in them. She told me she was well, but hardly mentioned her husband, and wrote not a word about Count Fosco, whom they had met in Austria, not Italy. I understood from her silence that she did not like him. All she said was that her Aunt Eleanor, Madame Fosco, was quieter and more sensible than she had used to be.

*  *  *

On 11th June I arrived at Blackwater Park, Sir Percival's family home in Hampshire. The waiting was nearly over, and how happy I was! The next day Laura and her husband would return home, together with Count Fosco and his wife, who were going to spend the summer at Blackwater.

In the morning the housekeeper, Mrs Michelson, showed me round the house. It is very old, and much of it is dusty and unused; only one part of the enormous building is comfortable enough to live in.

Later I explored the gardens and the park. The gardens are small and not well kept, and there are so many trees that the house feels shut in by them. I found a path through the trees, which after half a mile brought me to a lake. It was a damp, lonely place. The still dark waters of the lake and the long shadows from the tall trees gave it a gloomy air. Near the lake there was an old boat-house with some seats in it, so I went in and sat down for a rest.

I am not a nervous person generally but when I heard the sound of quick breathing under my seat, I jumped to my feet in alarm. In fact, it was a dog — a small black and white dog, with a bullet wound in its side. I carried the poor creature back to the house and sent for Mrs Michelson to help me.

When she came in and saw the dog lying on the floor, she cried out at once, 'Oh! That must be Mrs Catherick's dog!'

'Whose?' I asked, amazed.

'Mrs Catherick's. Do you know her? She came here to ask for news of her daughter.'

'When?'

'Yesterday. She'd heard that her daughter Anne had been seen in the neighbourhood. But no one knew anything. I suppose the dog ran away into the woods and got shot by the park-keeper.'

I tried to make my voice sound politely interested. 'I suppose you've known Mrs Catherick for some years?'

'Oh no, Miss Halcombe, I never saw her before. She lives at Welmingham, twenty-five miles away. I had heard of her, because of Sir Percival paying for her daughter to go to an asylum. But yesterday, Mrs Catherick asked me not to mention her visit to Sir Percival. That was an odd thing to say, wasn't it, Miss?'

Odd, indeed! But then we had to turn our attention to the poor dog, which, despite our efforts, died a little while later. It was a sad thing to happen on my first day at Blackwater.

*  *  *

Later that evening the travellers returned. After my first happiness at meeting Laura, I felt there was a strangeness between us and I realized she had changed. I was sure we would soon get back to normal, but she had lost her innocent openness. She was unwilling to talk about her married life, and I saw that there were no warm feelings between her husband and her. It wasn't long before she asked me about Walter — 'Have you heard from him? Is he well and happy?' — and it was clear to me that she loved him as deeply as ever.

As for Sir Percival, his manners are sharper and less pleasant. On meeting me he simply said, 'Hello, Miss Halcombe. Glad to see you again,' — and then walked past me. Little things seem to annoy him a great deal. For example, the housekeeper told him a man had called to speak to him a week ago but had left no name. Sir Percival demanded a description of the man, which poor Mrs Michelson was unable to give, and Sir Percival stormed out of the room in great anger.

Laura was certainly right about Madame Fosco. Never have I seen such a change in a woman. As Eleanor Fairlie (aged thirty-seven), she wore bright clothes, was silly and foolish, and always talked nonsense. As Madame Fosco (aged forty-three), she wears only grey or black, and sits for hours in silence, doing needlework, rolling up cigarettes for the Count, or just looking at him with the eyes of a loyal dog.

And the man who has achieved this extraordinary change, the man who has tamed this wild Englishwoman? Yes, what can I say about the Count? He looks like a man who could tame anything. If he had married me, I would have made his cigarettes, as his wife does. I would have held my tongue when he looked at me, as she holds hers.

How can I explain the power, the attraction, the force that comes from this man? There are many unlikeable or unattractive things about him. For example, he is enormously fat; he seems to have false hair; he is at least sixty years old. He is lazy, jumps at the slightest sudden sound, and has a peculiar fondness for pet animals. He has brought with him a variety of birds and a whole family of white mice, which he often kisses and calls loving names, just as a child might do.

And yet, and yet... He is fat, but moves lightly and easily, like a dancer. There is a calmness and a strength about his smooth, unlined face, and his voice is persuasive, gentle, hard to resist. His knowledge of the English language is perfect and he is a well-known expert in chemical science. He speaks in baby language to his white mice, but he talks with intelligence and charm about books in every language, and brings to his conversation experience of life in half the capitals of Europe.

But it is his eyes that I shall always remember — his cold, clear, beautiful grey eyes, eyes which held such a frightening power that I shiver even now to think of it.

I could discover very little about his past from Sir Percival. I only learnt that he had not been to Italy for years; I wondered if this was for political reasons. It seemed he had saved Sir Percival from great danger in Rome once and they had been the closest of friends ever since. It was quite clear that Sir Percival was always anxious to please him and would never go against his wishes.

I wonder whether I am afraid of him too. I certainly never saw a man I would be more sorry to have as an enemy.

*  *  *

At lunchtime, a few days after they all returned, a man called Mr Merriman arrived, asking to see Sir Percival urgently. Sir Percival had clearly not expected the visit and looked both alarmed and angry as he left the table.

Neither Laura nor I had any idea who Mr Merriman was, but the Count told us he was Sir Percival's lawyer. I wondered what had happened, as a lawyer does not usually travel from London to Hampshire unless sent for. Mr Merriman must be the bringer of important news — either good or bad.

Count Fosco obviously read my thoughts and said softly to me, 'Yes, Miss Halcombe, something has happened.'

Later in the day I was coming from my room when I saw Sir Percival and his lawyer crossing the hall downstairs. They spoke quietly, but clearly enough for their words to reach my ears.

'Yes, Sir Percival,' I heard the lawyer say, 'it all depends on Lady Glyde.'

I immediately stopped when I heard Laura's name and, although I knew it was wrong, continued to listen.

'You understand, Sir Percival, Lady Glyde must sign her name in the presence of two witnesses. If this is done in a week's time, everything will be all right. If not, I may be able to get them to accept a document promising payment in three months. But how that money is to be obtained by then... '

They went into the library and I heard no more, but it seemed that Sir Percival had a serious debt and that the solution to it depended on Laura. I immediately went to tell Laura what I had heard. She did not seem surprised.

'I was afraid of something like this,' she said, 'when I heard about that strange gentleman who called, without leaving his name. He had probably come to ask for his money. But don't worry, Marian. I won't sign anything that I might later regret.'

In the evening Sir Percival was unusually polite and pleasant to all of us. What did this mean? I thought I could guess — I was afraid Laura could guess — and I was sure Count Fosco knew. I saw Sir Percival looking at him for approval more than once during the evening. The Count was certainly aware of Sir Percival's financial problems.

The next morning Sir Percival asked Count Fosco, Laura, and myself if we would go to the library for a minute after lunch for a small business matter. Before lunch, however, we all went for a walk to the lake, stopping at the boat-house for a rest.

'Some people call the lake pretty,' said Sir Percival, pointing to the view. 'I call it ugly. It looks just the place for a murder, doesn't it? What do you think, Fosco?'

'My dear Percival,' the Count protested, 'the water is too shallow to hide a body. Only a fool would murder someone here. A wise man would choose somewhere else.'

'Wise men do not murder,' said Laura, looking at him with dislike. 'I am sure you cannot give me an example of a wise man who has been a criminal.'

'My dear lady,' said the Count, 'it is impossible to give an example, because a wise man's crime is never found out.'

As he spoke, he was playing with his white mice in their little cage, and suddenly noticed that one of them was missing. A few seconds later he found the little animal under a seat, but also found something which seemed to shock him.

'Percival,' he said, 'come here. Look at this in the sand. Blood!'

Everyone seemed alarmed, so I had to explain about the wounded dog I had found.

'Whose dog was it?' asked Sir Percival.

'The housekeeper said it was Mrs Catherick's dog,' I replied, remembering too late that the visit was meant to be kept secret.

'What the devil was Mrs Catherick doing here?'

This question came with such rudeness and anger that I turned away. Count Fosco laid his hand on Sir Percival's arm.

'My dear Percival! Gently, gently!'

To my great surprise, Sir Percival apologized to me, and Count Fosco then said, 'Why not question the housekeeper, Percival, since she seems to know all about it?'

Sir Percival took the point, and immediately left us to return to the house.

The Count seemed fascinated by Mrs Catherick and wanted to know all about her visit. I tried to say as little as possible, but Laura asked questions too, and in the end the Count knew as much as we did about Mrs Catherick and her daughter Anne. I was quite sure, from his surprise at the story, that the Count had known nothing of Anne Catherick, and uneasily I wondered why Sir Percival had not told his closest friend.

When we went back to the house, Sir Percival came to greet us. 'I am sorry to say I have to leave you. I have to drive a long way and won't be back until tomorrow. First, though, I would like to finish that little business matter. Will you come into the library? It won't take a minute.'

In the library he got a document out of a cupboard and put it on the table. It was folded in such a way that all the writing was hidden and only the places to sign were visible.

Handing a pen to Laura, he said, 'Sign there. You and Fosco are to sign afterwards, Miss Halcombe.'

'What do you want me to sign?' Laura asked quietly.

'I have no time to explain. I have to leave. It's just business,' he said angrily. 'Women don't understand business. Just sign it.'

'But surely I ought to know what I am signing.'

'I see. So you're saying you don't trust me! Is that it? What kind of a wife is that?'

To help Laura, I said, 'I am afraid I cannot be a witness if she doesn't understand what she is signing.'

Sir Percival turned to me furiously. 'How dare you! You're a guest in my house and you take my wife's side against me!'

'Control your unfortunate temper, Percival,' said the Count, and I heard him whisper to him, 'You idiot!'

But Laura had put the pen down and moved to my side.

'Lady Glyde is right,' the Count then said. 'Let the signature wait until tomorrow.'

Sir Percival swore at him, but moved away from the table.

'All right, then,' he said, 'until tomorrow. Anyway, I have to go. But you will sign tomorrow or —' He gave his wife a cold, hard stare, then went out.

As Laura and I moved to the door, the Count approached us. 'You have just seen Sir Percival at his worst,' he said. 'As his old friend, I apologize for him and promise he won't behave like that tomorrow.'

I had begun to realize that I could not hope to remain at Blackwater Park now without the influence and support of the Count, so I answered by thanking him warmly. Then I led Laura out and took her up to my room for a rest.

While we were there, she told me how cruel Sir Percival had been to her since their marriage and how unhappy she was. I tried to calm her and to find a solution to the problem of the signature. Suddenly I had the idea of writing to Mr Gilmore's partner, Mr Kyrle, and asking for his advice. In my letter I also asked him to get a messenger to bring the reply by one o'clock the next day. I then put the letter in the post-bag in the hall. Just at that moment Madame Fosco appeared and asked to speak to me in the garden. She spoke to me for a full half-hour about how much sympathy she had for me. I found this very odd indeed since she had shown very little interest in me before.

When I finally returned, I saw the Count also putting a letter in the post-bag. For some reason I decided to check my letter was properly closed, so I got it out of the bag. This was lucky, as I found the envelope had come open. How strange, I thought. Perhaps there had been something wrong with it...

Or perhaps...

No! There could be no other explanation.


absent adj. not present 不在场的

free of not containing or subject to 没有

enormous adj. very large, huge 非常大的

gloomy adj. dismal, depressing 阴暗的;阴郁的

creature n. an animal 动物

neighbourhood n. the surrounding area 附近

odd adj. extraordinary, strange 反常的;奇怪的

storm v. move violently or angrily 气愤地走

tame v. make tame 驯服

hold one's tongue be silent 不说话

enormously adv. very, quite 非常

frightening adj. terrifying 使人害怕的

go against be contrary to 反对

urgently adv. requiring immediate action or attention 急迫地

obtain v. acquire, secure 得到;获得

library n. a room containing a collection of books 书房

aware adj. conscious or having knowledge 清楚;知道

murder n. killing unlawfully with a premeditated motive 谋杀

rudeness n. being impolite or offensive 无礼

fascinated adj. showing great interest in 非常感兴趣的

fold v. bend or close something over upon itself 折叠

furiously adv. extremely angry 极度气愤地

swear v. use indecent language 骂人

stare n. a staring gaze

messenger n. a person who carries a message 信使

properly adv. fittingly; suitably 适当地

5.需要签字的文件

漫长、孤寂的六个月过去了。除去思念不在身边的朋友们,我无所事事。我收到一封沃尔特·哈特里特的来信,是他到达洪都拉斯,进入林地之前写的。从那以后,他就没有了任何消息。安妮·凯瑟里克和克莱门茨太太没有任何音信。可怜的吉尔摩先生病得很厉害,不得不停止工作。他的工作由他的合伙人克尔先生代理。维西太太搬到了伦敦,和她妹妹住在一起。我想费尔利先生一定暗自高兴这庄园里没有了女人。

我最思念的当然是劳拉。她来过许多信,但是内容都非常简单。她说她挺好的,却只字不提她丈夫,也不提福斯科伯爵。他们是在奥地利相见的,而不是在意大利。从她的沉默我看得出,她不喜欢他。她只是说到埃莉诺姑妈,就是福斯科夫人,比以前话少了,也更理智了。

*  *  *

6月11日,我来到布莱克沃特庄园,珀西瓦尔爵士在汉普郡的家。等待终于快结束了,我异常兴奋。第二天,劳拉同她丈夫就要回来了,一同来的还有福斯科伯爵夫妇,他们要在布莱克沃特度过这个夏天。

早上,管家米切尔森太太领我参观了房子。这是一幢很古老的房子,多处是厚厚的尘土,没有人住。偌大的房子只有一部分还比较舒适,可以住人。

之后,我去看了看花园和园林。花园很小,维护得也不好。这周围树木非常多,遮蔽了房子。我发现了树林中的一条小路,沿着小路走了半英里之后是一个湖。这是一个潮湿僻静的地方。平静漆黑的湖水和长长的树影使这里笼上了一层阴暗、凄凉的色彩。湖的附近有一个破旧的船屋,里面有几个座位,我走进去坐下休息。

我并不是一个胆小的人,但是听见座位底下传来急促的喘息声,我还是惊得一下子跳了起来。其实,那是只狗——一只黑白相间的小狗,身子的一侧有子弹的伤痕。我把可怜的小东西带回房子里,叫来米切尔森太太帮我。

米切尔森太太进来看见地上躺着的小狗,马上大声说:“噢,这一定是凯瑟里克太太的狗!”

“是谁的狗?”我非常吃惊地问。

“凯瑟里克太太的。你认识她吗?她来这里打听过她女儿的消息。”

“什么时候?”

“就是昨天。她听说有人在附近看见过她女儿安妮。可是没人知道这件事。我想这条狗可能跑到树林里去,让看林人给打了。”

我尽量让自己听起来不是过分好奇,“你是不是认识凯瑟里克太太好多年了?”

“噢,也不是,哈尔库姆小姐。我以前没见过她。她住在离这里25英里远的韦明翰。我听说过她,因为珀西瓦尔爵士出钱送她女儿去精神病院。但是昨天,凯瑟里克太太让我别跟珀西瓦尔爵士讲她来过的事。这有点儿怪,是吧,小姐?”

奇怪,的确奇怪!但是,我们得把注意力集中到那只小狗身上,虽然我们尽力挽救,没过多久它还是死了。我第一天到布莱克沃特就发生了一件令人伤心的事。

*  *  *

当天晚上,旅行者们都回来了。我见到劳拉的高兴劲儿刚过,就觉得我们之间有一种奇怪的感觉,我意识到她变了。我相信,我们之间很快就会像从前一样。但是她好像失去了原来的纯真和坦诚。她不愿谈自己的婚后生活,而且我发现她同她丈夫之间毫无亲密可言。她很快就向我问起沃尔特:“你收到他的信了吗?他好吗?”显而易见,她还在深深地爱着他。

至于珀西瓦尔爵士,他的脾气变得越发暴躁,越发不讨人喜欢。见到我,他只是简单地说了声“你好,哈尔库姆小姐。很高兴又见到你。”然后就从我身边走过去了。一点点小事也会让他大为恼火。举个例子,米切尔森太太告诉他一个星期前有个男人来找他,但没有留下姓名。珀西瓦尔爵士问那人什么模样,可怜的米切尔森太太说不上来,于是珀西瓦尔爵士勃然大怒,气急败坏地走出房间。

关于福斯科夫人,劳拉说得很对。我从未见过哪个女人身上会发生如此大的变化。她是埃莉诺·费尔利小姐的时候(当时她37岁),经常穿鲜亮的衣服,说傻话,做傻事。她成了福斯科夫人以后(现在她43岁),只穿灰色和黑色的衣服,而且经常几个小时坐在那里一声不吭地做针线,给伯爵卷烟或者像一条忠诚的狗一样望着伯爵。

那么,那个导致了如此变化,驯服了这么一个桀骜不驯的英国女人的男人呢?对,我该怎么描述伯爵呢?他好像可以驯服一切。假如他娶了,我也会像他妻子一样给他卷烟,我也会像她一样被他看一眼就闭上嘴。

我应该怎么解释这个男人的魔力、魅力和影响呢?其实,他身上有许多不招人喜欢的地方。比方说,他体形肥胖,似乎还戴假发,而且少说也有60岁了。他人很懒,听到任何一点儿响动都会跳起来,还特别爱养宠物。他带来各种各样的鸟和一大窝白鼠。他就像小孩子一样,时常亲吻这些宠物,用昵称叫它们。

可是,可是……他身体肥胖,但动作像舞蹈演员一样轻巧灵便。他的脸很光滑,没有皱纹;表情沉稳庄重。他的声音很柔和,有一种难以抵挡的魅力。他精通英语,还是个化学家。他用儿语对白鼠讲话,但是谈到用任何语言写作的书籍,他都睿智机敏,滔滔不绝。他到过一半欧洲国家的首都。他经常谈起在那些城市的经历。

但让我铭记在心的是他的眼睛——一双冷酷、明亮、好看的灰眼睛。他的眼睛有一种慑人的威力,我现在想起来还会打哆嗦。

关于他的过去,我从珀西瓦尔爵士那儿知道的很少。我只知道他很多年没回意大利了,不知道是不是由于政治原因。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士在罗马遇到大难,伯爵帮助他脱离了危险。从那以后,他们成了密友。很明显,珀西瓦尔爵士总是力图讨好伯爵,从不跟他对着干。

我不知道自己是不是也害怕他。但是,他是我所见过的人中我最不愿与之成为敌人的。

*  *  *

他们旅行回来几天后,吃午饭的时候,一个叫梅里曼的人来了,要求马上见珀西瓦尔爵士。看得出,珀西瓦尔没想到这个人会来,他起身出去的时候显得既吃惊又生气。

劳拉和我都不知道梅里曼先生是何许人。伯爵告诉我们他是珀西瓦尔爵士的律师。我不知道出了什么事,因为除了被唤而来,律师是不会从伦敦到汉普郡来的。梅里曼先生一定带来了什么重要消息——不管是好消息还是坏消息。

福斯科伯爵显然看出了我的心事,轻声对我说:“没错,哈尔库姆小姐,确实出事了。”

后来,我从房里出来,看见珀西瓦尔爵士和律师正穿过楼下的大厅。他们说话的声音很低,但还是清晰地传进我的耳朵里。

“是的,珀西瓦尔爵士,”我听见律师说,“一切都取决于格莱德夫人了。”

听到劳拉的名字,我马上停住了脚步。我知道这样做不好,但还是接着往下听。

“你知道,珀西瓦尔爵士,格莱德夫人必须在两个证人在场的情况下签字,只要这件事在一星期之内办妥,一切都好说。如果不行,我可以准备一份文件,向他们保证三个月后付款。可是,三个月后怎么能弄到钱呢……?”

他们走进书房,下面的话我听不见了。好像珀西瓦尔爵士欠了一大笔债,而还债就取决于劳拉。我立即把刚刚听到的消息告诉了劳拉,她看上去一点儿也不惊讶。

“我料到会出这种事,”劳拉说,“在我听说来了一位没有留下姓名的陌生人时,我就料到了。那人很可能是来要钱的。不过别怕,玛丽安,任何今后我可能后悔的文件,我都不会签的。”

那天晚上,珀西瓦尔爵士对我们大家异乎寻常地客气。这说明什么呢?我想我能猜出来——劳拉也能猜出来——而且我敢肯定福斯科伯爵清楚其中的奥秘。我注意到珀西瓦尔有好几次都用眼神征求伯爵的意见。伯爵肯定清楚珀西瓦尔爵士的经济困境。

第二天早上,珀西瓦尔爵士让福斯科伯爵、劳拉还有我午饭后到书房来一下,谈一点事情。午饭前我们一同散步来到了湖边,在船屋里歇脚。

“有人说这湖很美,”珀西瓦尔爵士指着周围的景色说,“我觉得它很丑,像个发生凶案的地方,不是吗?你觉得呢,福斯科?”

“我亲爱的珀西瓦尔,”伯爵反对道,“这里的水太浅了,根本藏不住尸体,只有傻子才在这里谋杀。聪明人会选择别的地方。”

“聪明人不会去杀人的,”劳拉一面说着,一面不高兴地看着伯爵,“我相信你找不出一个聪明人犯罪的例子。”

“亲爱的夫人,”伯爵说,“我可找不出例子,因为聪明人犯罪不会让人知道。”

伯爵一边说着,一边摆弄着小笼子里的白鼠。他突然发现少了一只,但很快在一个座位底下找到了它,同时还发现了让他大吃一惊的东西。

“珀西瓦尔,快过来。你看这沙子,上面有血!”他说。

大家都很吃惊,我不得不告诉他们我发现那只受伤的狗的事情。

“谁的狗?”珀西瓦尔爵士问。

“管家说是凯瑟里克太太的。”我回答,忽然想起来这应该是秘密,可是太晚了。

“凯瑟里克太太到这儿来干什么?”

珀西瓦尔问得既气愤又无礼,我转过身去。福斯科伯爵拍了拍珀西瓦尔的胳膊。

“亲爱的珀西瓦尔!别着急,别着急!”

出乎我的意料,珀西瓦尔给我道了歉。伯爵接着说:“为什么不问问管家呢,珀西瓦尔?她好像知道事情的来龙去脉。”

珀西瓦尔爵士接受了这个建议,马上告辞回了庄园。

伯爵似乎对凯瑟里克太太非常感兴趣,想了解她那次来的所有情况。我尽量少透露信息,可是劳拉也问这问那。最后,我们知道的关于凯瑟里克太太以及她女儿安妮的情况,伯爵全都知道了。从伯爵惊讶的表情我可以断定,在这之前他对安妮·凯瑟里克一无所知。我很纳闷,为什么珀西瓦尔爵士不告诉他的好朋友这些事。

我们回到庄园,珀西瓦尔爵士过来同我们打招呼,“很抱歉,我得跟大家告辞。我要赶很长一段路,明天才能回来。不过,我想走之前了结那件小事。到书房来好吗?一会儿就好。”

来到书房,他从柜子里取出一份文件放到桌子上。文件是叠起来的,文字部分都遮住了,只能看见签字的部分。

他把一支笔递给劳拉,说:“在这儿签字吧。哈尔库姆小姐,你和福斯科等会儿再签。”

alt

“你要我签的是什么文件?”劳拉平静地问。

“我没时间解释,我得走了,就是一份公文,”珀西瓦尔很不高兴地说,“你们女人不懂,你就签字吧。”

“我当然有理由知道我签的是什么。”

“我明白了,你的意思是你不信任我!对吗?这叫什么妻子?”

我站在劳拉一边,说:“如果她不知道签的是什么,那我恐怕无法做证人。”

珀西瓦尔爵士愤怒地转向我,“你好大的胆子!你是我的客人,可却站在我妻子一边同我作对!”

“控制一下你的臭脾气,珀西瓦尔,”伯爵说,我听他对珀西瓦尔耳语:“你这笨蛋!”

劳拉放下笔,走到我身旁。

“格莱德夫人说的对,”伯爵说,“签字的事明天再说吧。”

珀西瓦尔爵士朝他破口大骂,但还是走开了。

“那好吧,”珀西瓦尔说,“那就等明天。不管怎样,我现在得走了。但是,你明天必须签字,否则——”他恶狠狠地瞪了他妻子一眼,然后走出了房间。

劳拉和我往外走的时候,伯爵走了过来。“你们刚才看到了珀西瓦尔爵士脾气最差的样子,”他说,“作为他的老朋友,我替他道歉。我保证他明天不会这样了。”

我开始明白,现在要是没有伯爵的帮助,我是不大可能接续呆在布莱克沃特庄园的。我真心地感谢了他。然后,我拉着劳拉上楼,到我的房间休息一会儿。

在我的房间里,劳拉告诉我结婚后珀西瓦尔爵士对待她多么冷酷,她多么不开心。我努力安慰她,帮她想办法解决签字的问题。忽然,我想到了给吉尔摩先生的合伙人克尔先生写信,问问他的意见。我在信里叫他派一个信使第二天1点之前把回信带过来。写完后,我把信放到了大厅的邮袋里。就在这时,福斯科夫人走过来,约我到花园里谈谈。她跟我足足说了半个小时她有多么同情我。我觉得非常奇怪,因为她以前根本就不在意我。

我回到屋里,看到福斯科伯爵也在往邮袋里放信。不知出于什么原因,我决定查看一下我的信是不是封好了。于是,我把我的那封信拿了出来。我还真做对了,我发现信封是开着的。好奇怪呀,我心里想。也许有人在捣鬼……

也许……

没错!不会是别的原因。

6
An appointment by the lake

After dinner that evening, Laura and I went for a walk down to the lake. The atmosphere was gloomy and depressing, but at least we were alone.

'I want to have no secrets from you, Marian,' Laura said, 'but I'm sure you have already guessed what my married life is like. Sir Percival said such cruel things to me in Italy that I turned for comfort to my memories of those happy days with Walter Hartright. And I have to tell you, Marian, Sir Percival now knows that Walter is the man I loved.'

I stared at her, and what little hope I had left began to die.

'It was at a party in Rome. Some people from London said I should have drawing lessons and recommended a Mr Hartright. I could not control myself when I heard his name and my husband noticed. "So it was him, was it?" he said, with a horrible smile. "Well, we will see about Mr Hartright. You will be sorry, and so will he, to the end of your lives." And Marian, he uses this knowledge like a whip to punish me, day in, day out.'

'Oh, Laura!' I said, putting my arms around her. This was my fault — yes, my fault! I remembered the white despair of Walter's face as I told him to leave, as I tore these two young hearts apart. And I had done this for Sir Percival Glyde.

For Sir Percival Glyde.

*  *  *

It was growing dark when we set out for home, and as we left Laura seized my arm. 'Marian, look!'

By the lake was a dark figure, half hidden by the evening mist rising off the water. We began to walk quickly.

'I'm sure it's following us,' whispered Laura. 'Is it a man or a woman?' She was shaking with fear.

'It's hard to tell in this light,' I said, then called out, 'Who's there?' There was no answer.

We hurried back through the wood, and when we reached home, I sent Laura upstairs and went to find out where everyone was. The Count and his wife, the servants, the housekeeper — all were inside. The figure by the lake was no one from the house. So who could it have been?

The next day Laura discovered she had lost her bracelet and thought she must have dropped it near the lake. She went off to look for it while I waited for the messenger from Mr Kyrle.

One o'clock came. By now I was so suspicious of everyone in the house that I decided to slip out and meet the messenger myself. Taking great care not to be seen, I went down to the main gate and a little way along the road. Soon a cab appeared. I stopped it and said, 'Are you going to Blackwater Park?'

A man put his head out and said, 'Yes, with a letter for Miss Halcombe.'

'You may give the letter to me,' I said. 'I am Miss Halcombe.'

I read the letter quickly.


Dear Miss Halcombe — Your letter has caused me great anxiety. It seems very likely that Lady Glyde's signature is needed so that a Loan of all or part of her £20,000 can be made to Sir Percival. This is almost certainly illegal, and Lady Glyde should not sign any document until I have examined it first.

Sincerely, William Kyrle.


I read this very thankfully and told the messenger to say that I understood the letter. As I spoke these words, Count Fosco came round the corner and suddenly appeared in front of me. Completely taken by surprise, I stared at him speechlessly. The messenger drove away in his cab, and the Count took my arm to walk home with me.

He talked pleasantly of this and that, and asked no questions about letters or messengers, so I assumed he had found out everything. He must have read my letter, returned it to the post-bag, and now knew that I had received an answer. There was no point in trying to deceive him so I said nothing, and just tried to seem quite cool and calm.

Back at the house we found that Sir Percival had returned, in an even worse mood than before, it seemed. When I told him Laura was out looking for her bracelet, he growled,

'Bracelet or no bracelet, I shall expect to see her in the library in half an hour.'

I turned to go into the house, but behind me heard the Count saying to Sir Percival, 'May I have five minutes' talk with you, here on the grass?'

They walked off together and I went inside to the sitting room, to think over all that had happened. Before long, however, the door opened softly and the Count looked in.

'Good news, Miss Halcombe,' he said. 'The business of the signature is put off for the moment. I'm sure you are relieved.'

He went out before I had recovered from my amazement. There could be no doubt that this change was due to his influence. His discovery of my writing to London and receiving an answer had caused him to interfere. Now there was even more to think about but, exhausted by worry and the heat of the day, my eyes closed and I fell into a little sleep.

I woke to find Laura's hand on my shoulder.

'Marian! The figure at the lake. I've just spoken to her! It's Anne Catherick. Look, she found my bracelet.'

Still half asleep, I stared at her stupidly. 'Anne Catherick?'

'Yes! I was searching in the boat-house,' Laura went on, 'when a woman in a white dress came in and said quietly, "Miss Fairlie. I have your bracelet. Your mother would not want you to lose it. "I jumped up, but her voice was so kind that I wasn't afraid. I asked her how she knew my mother. She said her name was Anne Catherick and asked me if I remembered as a little girl walking with her and my mother to the school in Limmeridge one day. I did remember. Suddenly I saw that we were like each other, but her face was pale and thin and tired. It was how my face might look after a long illness. "Why do you call me Miss Fairlie?" I asked, and she answered, "Because I love the name of Fairlie and hate the name of Glyde."'

'Did she say anything about your husband?' I asked.

'She said that after she wrote the letter, she did not have the courage to stay in Limmeridge to try to prevent my marriage to him. She was afraid he would find her and shut her up in the asylum again. But she was not afraid any more because she was so ill she thought she was dying. Then, Marian, she said that she and her mother knew a secret that my husband was afraid of.'

'Yes? Go on!' I said eagerly. 'What secret?'

'She was just going to tell me, when she thought she heard a noise outside. "We are not alone," she said, "someone is watching. Come here tomorrow at this time and I will tell you." Then she pushed me to one side and disappeared.'

'Oh, Laura, Laura, another chance lost! But you must keep the appointment tomorrow. It seems so important. I will follow you at a safe distance. She must not escape this time.'

We were silent for a time. Then Laura said anxiously, 'Why hasn't Sir Percival called us to the library to sign the document?'

'Oh yes! I forgot to tell you,' I said. 'Thanks to Count Fosco, the business of the signature has been postponed.'

'But why?' Laura said, amazed. 'If Sir Percival urgently needs money, how can it be postponed?'

'I heard Sir Percival's lawyer mention a second plan — to give a document promising payment in three months.'

'Oh, Marian!' she said. 'That would be such a relief.'

'Yes, it would. Let's hope that it's true.'

That evening Sir Percival was polite, even pleasant, especially to Laura. This must have been due to the Count's influence, and it worried me. What lay behind it? I was sure that Sir Percival's sudden journey yesterday had been to Welmingham, to question Mrs Catherick. What had he learnt? What were his plans? As the evening passed, I grew more and more uneasy, and I went to bed feeling very anxious about what the next day would bring.

*  *  *

I was not wrong to be anxious. The next day Laura and I arranged that after lunch she would go alone to the boat-house, and that I would follow a little later, taking great care that Anne Catherick did not see me, in case she was frightened by the appearance of another stranger.

Sir Percival had gone out earlier in the morning and did not appear even for lunch, so it was quite easy to put our plan into action. However, when I came quietly up to the back of the boat-house, I heard no voices, no sounds of movement, nothing. Soon I was searching inside the boat-house, and softly calling Laura's name. But no one answered and no one appeared. Outside, I searched the ground for signs, and found the footprints of two people in the sand — big footprints like a man's and small footprints, which I was sure were Laura's. There was also a little hole in the sand by the wall of the boat-house.

Desperate with worry, I hurried back to the house. The first person I met was Mrs Michelson, the housekeeper.

'Do you know,' I asked, 'whether Lady Glyde has come in?'

'Yes, she has, Miss Halcombe. And I am afraid something unfortunate has happened. Lady Glyde ran upstairs in tears and Sir Percival has told me to dismiss her servant, Fanny.'

My heart sank. Fanny was Laura's personal servant from Limmeridge, and the only person in the house we both trusted.

I ran upstairs to Laura's room. Her door was shut, and there was one of Sir Percival's house servants standing in front of it.

'Move away,' I said. 'Don't you see that I want to go in?'

'But you mustn't go in,' she answered. 'I have my orders.'

Wild with anger, I turned and went downstairs to find Sir Percival. He was in the library with the Count and Countess.

'Am I to understand that your wife's room is a prison?' I asked, staring him full in the face.

'Yes, that is what you are to understand,' he answered.

'Take care how you treat your wife!' I shouted furiously. 'There are laws to protect women, and I will use those laws.'

Instead of answering me, he turned to the Count. The Count looked at me with his calm, cold, grey eyes. But it was the Countess who spoke.

'Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Percival,' she said suddenly. 'But I cannot remain in a house where ladies are treated as your wife and Miss Halcombe have been treated today!'

Sir Percival stared at her in shocked silence, knowing, as I did, she would not have said this without the Count's permission.

'I agree with my wife,' the Count said quietly.

Sir Percival swore, then whispered angrily, 'All right, have your own way.' With these words he left the room.

'We have made the worst-tempered man in England see reason,' said the Count. 'Thanks to your courage, Miss Halcombe, this insulting situation is now ended.'

I tried to speak normally, but could not. The Count left the library, then returned a few minutes later to say that Lady Glyde had the freedom of her own house again. Immediately I rushed upstairs to Laura's room. She was alone inside and I was in such a hurry that I did not close the door properly behind me.

'Marian!' she said thankfully. 'How did you get here?'

'It was the Count's influence, of course,' I said.

'That horrible man!' she cried. 'He's a miserable spy!'

Just then we heard a knock on the door. It was the Countess, bringing me a handkerchief I had dropped. Her face was white, and I saw in her eyes that she had been listening at the door.

'Oh, Laura,' I said when she had gone, 'you shouldn't have called the Count a spy. We shall both regret it.'

'But he is a spy, Marian! There was someone watching me at the lake yesterday, and it was him. He told Sir Percival, who watched and waited all morning for me and Anne Catherick. But she didn't come — I found a note from her hidden in a hole in the sand. She said she'd been followed yesterday by a fat old man. He hadn't caught her, but she was afraid to come back this afternoon. She hid this note very early in the morning, and said she would see me again soon to tell me Sir Percival's secret.'

'What happened to the note?' I said. 'Have you got it?'

'No. While I was reading it, Sir Percival appeared. He took it from me and demanded to hear everything Anne Catherick had said. He held my arm so tightly! — look, see how he's bruised it. What could I do, Marian? I was helpless! I told him everything.'

I looked at the bruises on Laura's arm, and felt such furious hatred for Sir Percival that I dared not speak.

'But he didn't believe me,' Laura went on. 'He said he knew she had told me more and that he would lock me up until I had confessed the truth. Then he took me back to the house, gave orders for Fanny to leave, and locked me in my room. Oh, Marian, he was like a madman! What are we to do?'

'He is mad — mad with fear. He thinks you know his secret,' I said. 'I must act now to protect you — who knows how long I will be allowed to stay here?' I thought hard for a few minutes. 'I will write two letters and give them to Fanny to take with her. I can't trust the post-bag here any more. One for Mr Kyrle, telling him of your bruises and Sir Percival's violent behaviour.'

'And who is the other letter for?' asked Laura anxiously.

'For Mr Fairlie,' I said. 'Your lazy, selfish uncle. I'll make him invite you for a visit to Limmeridge, without your husband.'

I left her then and went to my room to write the letters. Fanny had already gone and was staying the night in the little hotel in the village, before beginning the long journey to Cumberland the next day. I decided I had time before dinner to walk to the village and back, so I slipped quietly out of the house and set off.

From time to time I looked behind me. Was I being followed? Or was my imagination playing tricks on me? By now I was suspicious of everything — every tiny sound, every shadow on the road, every breath of wind. Earlier, while writing the letters, I thought I had heard the rustle of a silk dress outside my door. I had even wondered if someone had been in my room, looking through the things in my desk. I hurried on, trying to put these thoughts out of my mind.

When I got to the little hotel, I saw Fanny in her room. She was very upset at leaving Laura, and started crying, but stopped when I told her that Lady Glyde and I needed her help.

'Here are two letters,' I said. 'Post the one addressed to Mr Kyrle in London tomorrow, and deliver the other to Mr Fairlie yourself when you get home to Limmeridge. Keep them safe!'

Fanny put the letters down the front of her dress. 'They'll stay there, miss,' she said, 'till I've done what you tell me.'


day in, day out one day after another 一天又一天地

seize v. take hold of forcibly or suddenly 紧紧抓住

illegal adj. contrary to law 不合法的

assume v. take or accept as being true, without proof 推想

growl v. murmur angrily 咕哝

put off postpone 推迟

exhaust v. use up the strength or resources of a person 筋疲力尽

postpone v. put off 推迟

footprint n. the impression left by a foot or shoe 脚印;鞋印

dismiss v. discharge from employment 辞退

hospitality n. the friendly and generous reception or entertainment of guests or strangers 热情款待

insulting adj. offending one self-respect or modesty 侮辱性的

bruise v. inflict a bruise on 使受淤伤

selfish adj. deficient in consideration for others 自私的

breath n. slight movement of air 轻风

6.湖畔之约

那天晚饭后,劳拉和我散步来到湖边。周围的环境昏暗而压抑,但至少我们可以单独在一起。

“我不愿对你有任何秘密,玛丽安,”劳拉开口说,“但是,我相信你已经猜到我婚后的生活是什么样子。在意大利,珀西瓦尔爵士跟我说了很多恶毒的话,我只能借助回忆同沃尔特·哈特里特在一起的幸福时光来寻求安慰。我得告诉你,玛丽安,珀西瓦尔爵士现在已经知道沃尔特是我所爱的人了。”

我的眼睛紧盯着她,心中仅存的一线希望也开始泯灭了。

“那是在罗马的一次聚会上,几个从伦敦来的朋友说我应该学学绘画,并向我推荐哈特里特先生。听到他的名字,我无法控制自己的感情,这些被我丈夫看到了。‘就是他,对吗?’他狞笑着问我,‘哈特里特先生的事我们走着瞧。你和他都会后悔一辈子的。’玛丽安,他抓住这件事一天又一天地折磨我。”

“噢,劳拉!”我搂住她。这都是我的错——是的,是我的错!我还记得我告诉沃尔特必须离开的时候,他脸上那惨淡绝望的表情。是我把两颗相爱的心拆开了。我这样做却成全了珀西瓦尔爵士。

成全了珀西瓦尔爵士。

*  *  *

天黑了下来,我们开始往回走。劳拉突然抓住我的胳膊,“玛丽安,你看!”

湖边有一个黑影,傍晚水面上升起的雾气遮住了我们的视线。我们开始加快脚步。

“我敢肯定有人跟踪我们,”劳拉低声说,“是男的还是女的?”她害怕得浑身发抖。

“在这样的光线里看不清,”我回答,然后大声喊道,“谁在那儿?”没有反应。

我们很快地穿过树林,回到家里。我把劳拉送上楼,然后就去查看家里的其他人都在哪儿。伯爵夫妇,仆人,管家——所有的人都在。湖边那个人影不是家里的人,那会是谁呢?

第二天,劳拉发现手镯丢了,她认为一定是丢在湖边了。她出去找手镯,我留在家里等克尔先生的信使。

1点到了。现在,我对家里的每个人都有怀疑,所以决定溜出去自己迎接信使。我尽量不让别人看见,独自来到大门口,又朝前走了一段。不一会儿,一辆马车过来了。我拦住车,问:“是去布莱克沃特庄园吗?”

一个男人探出头说:“是的,给哈尔库姆小姐送信。”

“把信给我吧,”我说,“我就是哈尔库姆小姐。”

我迫不及待地读了来信。

亲爱的哈尔库姆小姐,你的来信令我深感不安。情况很可能是只要有格莱德夫人的签字,珀西瓦尔爵士就可以借走她的20,000英镑或其中一部分,几乎可以肯定这是不合法的。任何我没有仔细看过的文件,格莱德夫人都不要签字。

此致,威廉·克尔

我满怀感激地读完信,告诉信使我明白了信的意思。正说着,福斯科伯爵突然从拐角那边走了出来,出现在我的面前。我没有任何思想准备,两眼盯着他,一句话也说不出来。信使赶车离开了,伯爵挽着我的手臂往回走。

路上,他兴致勃勃地说这说那,没有问任何关于信和信使的事,我想他已经什么都知道了。他肯定偷看了我的信,然后又放回到邮袋里,现在也知道我收到了回信。没有必要再瞒他什么,所以我什么话也不说,尽量表现得镇定。

回到庄园,我们发现珀西瓦尔爵士已经回来了,看上去情绪更加糟糕。我告诉他劳拉出去找手镯了,他生气地咕哝道:

“什么手镯不手镯的,我半小时后必须在书房见她。”

我转身朝屋里走,但听见身后伯爵对珀西瓦尔说:“我可以跟你在草坪上谈5分钟吗?”

他们俩一起走开了,我走进客厅,思考着刚发生的一切。不一会儿,门轻轻地开了,福斯科伯爵出现在门口。

“好消息,哈尔库姆小姐,”他说,“签字的事推迟了,我想你一定放心了吧。”

我还没来得及从惊讶中回过神来,他就出去了。毫无疑问,是他施加了影响才有现在的变化。他发现我给伦敦写信并且收到了回信,于是他开始干预。还有很多事需要考虑,但我实在累极了,再加上天热,我睁不开眼睛,就这么睡着了。

醒来后,我发现劳拉的一只手搭在我的肩上。

“玛丽安!湖边那个人影。我刚跟她谈过了!她是安妮·凯瑟里克。瞧,她找到了我的手镯。”

我还在半梦半醒之间,迷迷糊糊地看着她问:“安妮·凯瑟里克?”

“是的!我正在船屋里找手镯,”劳拉接着说,“一个穿白衣服的女人进来,轻声说:‘费尔利小姐,你的手镯在我这儿。你的母亲一定不希望你把它弄丢了。’我一下子跳了起来,但她的声音非常友善,我很快就不害怕了。我问她怎么认识我母亲。她告诉我她叫安妮·凯瑟里克,问我记不记得小时候有一天同她还有母亲一道去利默里奇的学校。我确实记得。我突然发现我们俩长得很相像,只是她的脸看上去苍白、消瘦、疲惫。我久病之后可能就是那个样子。‘你为什么叫我费尔利小姐?’我问她。她回答说:‘因为我喜欢费尔利这个姓,憎恨格莱德这个姓。’”

“她提到你丈夫了吗?”我问。

“她说她写完那封信以后,没有勇气再呆在利默里奇阻止我和他结婚。她害怕他找到她,再把她关进精神病院。但是现在她不怕了,因为她现在病得很厉害,就要死了。然后,玛丽安,她说她和她母亲知道一个令我丈夫非常害怕的秘密。”

“什么秘密?快说啊!”我急切地问,“什么秘密?”

“她刚要告诉我,就听见外面有响动。‘有人,’她说,‘有人在盯着我们。明天这个时间到这儿来,我再告诉你。’说完,她就推开我走了。”

“噢,劳拉,劳拉,又一个机会跑掉了!你明天一定要去,那个秘密一定非常重要。我跟你去,躲在远处不让她看见。这次可不能叫她再跑了。”

我们沉默了一会儿。然后,劳拉不安地问:“珀西瓦尔爵士怎么还没来叫我们去书房签字呢?”

“对了,我刚才忘了告诉你,”我说,“多亏了福斯科伯爵,签字的事推迟了。”

“为什么?”劳拉惊疑地问,“珀西瓦尔爵士那么急需钱,怎么会推迟呢?”

“我听珀西瓦尔爵士的律师提过另一个计划,要做一份保证三个月后还钱的文件。”

“噢,玛丽安!”她说,“那可太好了。”

“是很好,但愿这是真的。”

那天晚上,珀西瓦尔爵士对大家,尤其对劳拉,非常有礼貌,甚至可以说是非常好。这一定是伯爵的功劳,我对此很担心。这背后到底隐藏着什么?我想珀西瓦尔爵士昨天突然离开,肯定是去韦明翰找凯瑟里克太太了。他得到什么消息没有?他下一步想干什么?一个晚上,我越来越放心不下。睡觉时我对明天将要发生的事情异常担心。

*  *  *

我的担心没有错。第二天,劳拉和我商量好,午饭后她先一个人到船屋去,过一会儿我再去,尽量不让安妮·凯瑟里克看见我,以免她被我这个陌生人吓跑。

上午,珀西瓦尔爵士比往常出去得更早,连午饭也没来吃,因此我们实施计划也更容易一些。然而,我蹑手蹑脚来到船屋后面的时候,却听不到一点儿动静。我进去寻找,轻声叫着劳拉的名字。可是没有人回答,也没有人影。我来到屋外,仔细察看地面,发现沙地上有两个人的脚印——大一些的像是男人的,小一些的我敢肯定是劳拉的。船屋墙边的沙地上还有一个小坑。

我担心极了,赶忙回到庄园。我见到的第一个人是管家米切尔森太太。

“你知道格莱德夫人回来了吗?”我问。

“是的,她回来了,哈尔库姆小姐。可能出了什么不幸的事。格莱德夫人哭着跑上了楼,珀西瓦尔爵士叫我把她的仆人范妮辞退了。”

我的心一下子沉了下来。范妮是劳拉从利默里奇带来的贴身仆人,也是我们两人在这里唯一信任的人。

我跑上楼,来到劳拉的房门口。房门紧闭,珀西瓦尔的一个仆人站在门口。

“让开,”我大声说,“你没看见我要进去吗?”

“你不能进去,”仆人说,“我得听主人的吩咐。”

我肺都要气炸了,转身下楼去找珀西瓦尔爵士。他和伯爵夫妇正在书房。

“你妻子的房间是监狱吗?”我眼睛直盯着他问道。

“是的,你应该明白这点。”他回答。

“请注意你是如何对待你妻子的!”我愤怒地嚷着。“妇女受法律的保护,我会告你的。”

珀西瓦尔爵士没有接我的话,而是转向了伯爵。伯爵用他那平静、冷漠的灰眼睛看着我。但开口的是伯爵夫人。

“谢谢你的热情款待,珀西瓦尔爵士,”她突然说道。“但是,今天你的妻子和哈尔库姆小姐在这里受到如此的对待,我是不能再呆下去了!”

珀西瓦尔爵士目瞪口呆地盯着伯爵夫人,他跟我一样心里明白,没有伯爵的准许,她是不会说这番话的。

“我同意我妻子的话。”伯爵不紧不慢地说。

珀西瓦尔骂了一句,然后气哼哼地低声说:“好吧,你们要怎样就怎样吧。”说完,他走了出去。

“我们让英国脾气最坏的人明白道理了,”伯爵说,“多亏你的勇气,哈尔库姆小姐,这个令人难堪的局面终于结束了。”

我试图以正常的方式讲话,可是却做不到。伯爵走出了书房,几分钟后回来说,格莱德夫人在她自己的家里重获自由了。我立刻冲上楼来到劳拉的房间。她一个人在里面,我进去得太急了,没有关好门。

“玛丽安!”劳拉感激地说,“你是怎么进来的?”

“当然是伯爵帮的忙。”我回答。

“那个可怕的人!”她大声说,“他是个可恶的奸细!”

就在这时,我听到有人敲门。来的是伯爵夫人,她给我送刚才落在楼下的手绢。她脸色苍白,看了她的眼神,我就明白她一直在门口偷听。

“哦,劳拉,”伯爵夫人走了以后,我对劳拉说,“你不应该管伯爵叫奸细,我们都会后悔的。”

“他真的是奸细,玛丽安!昨天在湖边有人跟踪我,那人就是他。是他告诉珀西瓦尔的,珀西瓦尔整个上午都在等我和安妮·凯瑟里克。凯瑟里克没来,我在沙地小坑里找到一张纸条,上面说一个胖老头昨天跟踪她。那人没有抓住她,但是她今天下午不敢来了。她一大早就来藏了纸条,还说她会很快再来见我,告诉我珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。”

“那张纸条呢?”我问,“在你手里吗?”

“没有。我正在看的时候,珀西瓦尔爵士出现在我面前。他把纸条夺过去,要我告诉他安妮·凯瑟里克说了什么。他那么用力地抓我的手臂!——看,都青了。我能怎么办,玛丽安?我一点儿办法也没有,只好都告诉他了。”

我看着劳拉手臂上的伤,心里恨透了珀西瓦尔爵士却敢怒不敢言。

“可他还不相信我,”劳拉继续说道,“他说他知道凯瑟里克还告诉了我很多事,我不说实话,他就把我锁起来。然后他把我带回庄园,下令辞退范妮,还把我锁在房间里。噢,玛丽安,他简直像个疯子!我们该怎么办呢?”

“他是疯了——因为他害怕。他认为你知道了他的秘密,”我说,“我必须采取行动保护你——谁知道我还可以在这儿呆多久呢?”我冥思苦想了几分钟,“我要写两封信让范妮带走。我再也不能相信那个邮袋了。一封给克尔先生,告诉他你的伤和珀西瓦尔爵士的粗暴行为。”

“那另外一封呢?”劳拉迫不及待地问。

“给费尔利先生,”我回答,“你那懒惰、自私的叔叔。我要让他请你回一次利默里奇,不带你丈夫。”

离开劳拉,我回到自己的房间,开始写信。范妮已经离开了庄园,今晚住在村里的旅店,明天动身长途旅行去坎伯兰郡。我想我晚饭前有时间到旅店,然后再回来。所以,我悄悄地溜出庄园,朝村子走去。

我不时回头张望,看是否有人跟踪。或许是我的想象在作怪?现在,我开始怀疑一切——任何小的声响,路上的影子,一切风吹草动。刚才写信的时候,我觉得门外有丝绸衣服的响动。我甚至怀疑是否有人来我房间偷看过我桌子里的东西。我加快了脚步,尽量不去想这些。

来到小旅店,我在范妮的房间见到了她。离开劳拉让她难过得哭了起来。但是,当我告诉她格莱德夫人和我需要她的帮助时,她不哭了。

“这儿有两封信,”我说,“一封你明天到伦敦后寄给克尔先生,另一封你到利默里奇后亲手交给费尔利先生。一定把信收好。”

范妮把信塞到衣服里。“我把信放在这儿,小姐,”她说,“我会照你的吩咐去做。”

7
A conversation in the night

I arrived back at the house with only twenty minutes to get ready for dinner — and to slip into Laura's room to say that the letters were safely in Fanny's hands.

Laura looked pale. 'I'm not coming down to dinner,' she said. 'Sir Percival came to my door, shouting at me to tell him where Anne Catherick is.'

'At least that means he hasn't found her yet,' I said.

At dinner the Count looked hot and red in the face, and his clothes were a little untidy. Had he been out too, I wondered? He seemed troubled by some secret annoyance or anxiety, and was almost as silent as Sir Percival. At the end of the meal, when Madame Fosco and I left the table, the Count stood up too.

'Where are you going, Fosco?' Sir Percival said. 'Sit down and have another glass of wine. I want a quiet talk with you.'

'Not now, Percival. Later,' he answered.

Earlier in the day I had heard Sir Percival make the same request, and this was the second time the Count had postponed the talk. Why, I wondered? And what was it that Sir Percival wanted to discuss so urgently?

We went into the living room and Madame Fosco, usually so slow and deliberate in her movements, drank her tea at great speed and then slipped quietly out of the room. I began to leave too, but the Count stopped me, first by a request for more tea, then by asking my opinion on some music, and then by playing several noisy Italian songs on the piano. Eventually, I escaped from him and went up to Laura's room. Had she seen or heard anything of Madame Fosco, I asked? No, she had not. We talked together till ten o'clock, and then I went downstairs again to say goodnight. Sir Percival, the Count and his wife were sitting together in the living room. I noticed that Madame Fosco's face was now hot and red. Where had she been, and what had she been doing? As I looked at her, she gave a little smile, as though at some private joke.

I said goodnight to everybody, and as I left the room, I heard Sir Percival say impatiently to the Count, 'Come outside and have a smoke, Fosco.'

'With pleasure, Percival, when all the ladies have gone to bed,' replied the Count.

Up in my room, I could not stop myself thinking about this private discussion between Sir Percival and the Count, postponed all day and now, it seemed, about to take place in the silence and loneliness of the night. After a while, I went from my bedroom into my sitting room, and closed the door between the rooms. It was dark, as no candles were lit, and I looked out of the open window for some time, down into the blackness of the garden. There was a smell like rain in the still, heavy air.

Suddenly I saw two red points of light advancing in the dark and stopping below my bedroom window, inside which a candle was burning. One red point was small, the other was big. The Count smoking a cigarette, and Sir Percival smoking a cigar, I think. They could not see me in the darkness of my sitting room, so I waited to hear what they said.

'Why don't you come in and sit down?' Sir Percival said.

'Wait till we see that light go out,' replied the Count. 'When I know she's in bed, and I have checked the rooms on each side of the library, then we will talk.'

Such secrecy! I decided I must listen to this conversation, in spite of the Count's efforts to keep it private. The idea terrified me, but Laura's happiness — perhaps even her life — might depend on what I heard. How could I do it? I realized I could get out on to the flat verandah roof which ran past the bedrooms, about three feet below the windows. It was narrow, but there was room to move along it till I was above the library window. The Count and Sir Percival usually sat near the open window, smoking, and if they did, I would be able to hear them from above.

I went back to my bedroom, put on a long dark cloak with a hood, and put out the candle. Then, after a while, I returned to my sitting room and climbed out of the window on to the verandah roof. My heart began to beat very fast. I had to pass five windows — four were dark, but the fifth window was the Countess's room, and it looked out over the exact place above the library where I planned to sit. And there was still a light in it. I crept along the roof, then went down on my hands and knees to pass her window. As I passed, I looked up — and saw her shadow against the thin curtains at the window...

I stop breathing. Has she heard me? Will she look out? No, the shadow moves away, she's gone. Now I move to my position at the edge of the roof and begin to listen. Are they there, or have they gone elsewhere for their talk? Ah, I can hear the Count's voice.

'Miss Halcombe's light is out, the rooms next door are empty, the only window with a light in is my wife's — so now we may talk. We are at a serious crisis in our affairs, Percival, and we must decide about the future tonight.'

'It's a worse crisis than you think,' growls Sir Percival.

'Listen, Percival. This is our situation. We both came to this house in need of money and the only way of getting it was with the help of your wife. Now what did I tell you? I told you never to lose your temper with her, and especially never with her sister, Miss Halcombe. And have you remembered this? Not once. Your mad temper lost your wife's signature, lost the ready money, made Miss Halcombe write to the lawyer for the first time —'

'First time! Has she written again?'

'Yes, she has written again today.'

What! How does he know that? Did he follow me to the hotel? But even if he did, he couldn't have seen the letters — they went straight from my hand to Fanny's dress. So how does he know?

'You're lucky,' the Count continues, 'that you have me in the house to undo the harm that you do. Lucky that I said no when you were mad enough to make your wife a prisoner and keep her from Miss Halcombe. Can't you see that Miss Halcombe has the courage and understanding of a man? How I admire that woman! But she stands like a rock between us and that pretty little wife of yours. Now, the money. We have obtained a loan — a horribly expensive loan — by signing a document promising to repay it in three months. When the time comes, is there really no way to repay the money except by the help of your wife?'

'None.'

'What money do you actually get from your wife at present?'

'Only the income from her twenty thousand pounds.'

'Do you expect any more from your wife?'

'Absolutely nothing — except in the case of her death.'

'Aha! In the case of her death.'

A pause. It has begun to rain, and already I feel wet and cold.

Sir Percival again. 'If she leaves no children, I get her twenty thousand pounds.'

'Percival! Do you care about your wife?'

'Fosco! That's a very direct question.'

'Let's say your wife dies before the end of the summer — '

'Forget it, Fosco!'

'You would gain twenty thousand pounds.'

'Speak for yourself as well as for me, Fosco. You would also gain — my wife's death would be ten thousand pounds in your wife's pocket.'

'Percival, here is the position. If your wife lives, you pay that debt with her signature on the document. If your wife dies, you pay the debt with her death.'

The light in Madame Fosco's room goes out, and the verandah roof is now sunk in darkness. The rain continues. I Listen with every nerve in my body, memorizing word after word.

'Percival, you must now leave this matter in my hands. I have more than two months to find the solution, so let's not talk about it any more. Let me help you with your other difficulty — the difficulty that seems to have the name of Anne Catherick.'

'Look, Fosco, we may be friends, but we still have our secrets. This does not concern you. Please don't ask me about it.'

'My friend, I can respect a secret. So I won't ask you to tell me. But can I help you all the same?'

'If I don't find Anne Catherick, I'm a lost man. Both she and her mother know this — this secret. It could ruin me, Fosco. Anne Catherick has spoken to my wife and I'm sure she's told her.'

'But as your wife, surely it's in her interest to keep it a secret?'

'If she loved me, that would be true. But she's in love with someone she met before we married, a drawing teacher called Walter Hartright. And who helped Anne Catherick escape from the asylum? Hartright. Who saw her again in Cumberland? Hartright. He knows the secret, and my wife knows the secret. If they get together, they will use it against me.'

'Yes, yes, I see. Where is Mr Hartright?'

'Out of the country. He sailed for America.'

'Don't worry, then. I will deal with him if he ever comes back. Depend on it. But first we must find Anne Catherick. What about her mother? Can she be trusted?'

'It's in her interest not to tell anyone the secret.'

'Good. Now, how will I recognize Anne Catherick?'

'Easily. She's the pale, sickly likeness of my wife.'

A noise as a chair is pushed back. The Count has jumped to his feet and is walking about. He seems amazed.

'What!!! Are she and your wife related to each other?'

'Not at all.'

'And yet so alike? Well, I will know her when I see her.'

'What the devil are you laughing about, Fosco?'

'Just a thought, my good friend, just a thought. But enough for tonight. You will pay the debt and find Anne Catherick. I promise you. You can put your mind at rest, Percival.'

Not another word is spoken. I hear the library door close. I am wet to the skin, stiff and aching with the cold. At first I can't move, but slowly, painfully, I creep back to my window and climb in. As I fall on the floor, I hear the clock strike a quarter past one. Time passes. Somehow I manage to get up and put on dry clothes. I am burning hot — and shivering with cold. I know I must write down what I have heard, so I find paper and pen and write without stopping. The fever rises in me, burning, burning. I open the window for cool air...

Eight o'clock. Bright sunshine, which hammers at my eyes. My head aches, my bones ache, my skin burns, yet I cannot stop shivering. I lie down to sleep, my writing finished, and in my fever I see Count Fosco come into my room and read the pages I have written. He smiles. I am helpless — unable to move, speak, breathe... and I sink into the long, black night of illness...


untidy adj. not neat or orderly 不整齐的

deliberate adj. leisurely, unhurried 不慌不忙的

impatiently adv. lacking patience or tolerance 不耐烦地;着急地

go out put out 吹灭;熄灭

verandah n. an open area with a floor and a roof that is built on the side of a house on the ground floor 游廊

crisis n. time of danger or difficulty 危机

understanding n. the ability to understand or think 见识

memorize v. commit to memory 记住

in her interest as something that is advantageous to her 对她有利

hammer at inflict pain at 使疼痛

7.深夜密谈

我回到庄园时,只剩20分钟就要吃晚餐了——我还得溜进劳拉的房间,告诉她信已经安全地交给范妮了。

劳拉脸色苍白。“我不下楼吃晚饭了,”她说,“珀西瓦尔爵士刚来过,站在门口朝我大喊,要我告诉他安妮·凯瑟里克在哪儿。”

“这起码说明他还没找到她。”我说。

吃晚饭的时候,福斯科伯爵满脸通红,衣服也有些不整。他也出去了吗,我心里疑惑。他似乎有什么秘密的困扰,几乎和珀西瓦尔爵士一样一言不发。吃罢饭,伯爵夫人和我往外走的时候,伯爵也站起身。

“你去哪里,福斯科?”珀西瓦尔爵士问道,“坐下再喝一杯。我要同你单独谈一谈。”

“现在不行,珀西瓦尔。以后吧。”伯爵回答。

白天的时候我也听到珀西瓦尔爵士提出同样的要求,这是一天之内伯爵第二次推迟和珀西瓦尔谈话了。为什么呢?我不明白。珀西瓦尔爵士这么着急要和伯爵谈什么呢?

我们走进客厅,平常总是慢条斯理的伯爵夫人迅速地喝完茶,不声不响地走了出去。我也朝外面走,但是伯爵叫住了我。他先是要我帮他添茶,然后又问我对某些音乐的看法,还在钢琴上弹了几首闹哄哄的意大利曲子。最后,我才得以离开他,来到劳拉的房间。我问她有没有看见伯爵夫人或是听见她的动静?她说没有。我们俩一直聊到10点,我下楼跟大家道晚安。珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵夫妇都在客厅坐着。我注意到伯爵夫人的脸通红。她刚才去哪儿了,干什么去了?看到我在打量她,伯爵夫人笑了笑,好像我们两个私下开过什么玩笑似的。

我同大家道了晚安。离开客厅的时候,我听见珀西瓦尔爵士不耐烦地对伯爵说:“到外面来抽支烟,福斯科。”

“好的,珀西瓦尔。等女士们都去睡了以后。”伯爵说。

回到楼上的房间,我还在想珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵的密谈,拖了一天,到现在终于要在寂静的夜晚进行了。过了一会儿,我从卧室来到我的客厅,把房门关好。房间漆黑一片,没有点蜡烛。我透过窗子向外望了一会儿,外面的花园一片黑暗,宁静、潮湿的空气中有一种雨的味道。

突然,我看到黑暗中有两个红色的亮点在移动,然后在我卧室的窗下停住了,我卧室里点着一支蜡烛。一个亮点小,另一个大些。我想肯定是伯爵在抽烟卷,珀西瓦尔爵士在抽雪茄。我的客厅是黑的,他们看不见我。因此,我在客厅等着听他们说什么。

“为什么不进屋,坐下来谈?”珀西瓦尔爵士说。

“等到那蜡烛灭了再说,”伯爵说,“等她睡了,我再查看一下书房两边的房间,然后我们再谈。”

那么机密!不管伯爵怎样保密,我一定要听听这场谈话。这个想法使我很害怕,但是劳拉的幸福——甚或她的生命——可能都跟我听到的内容有关。我怎么去偷听呢?我想到可以从游廊的平顶上过去,平顶连着好几间卧室,比窗户大约低3英尺。顶子很窄,但还是可以过去,到达书房窗户的上面。伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士经常坐在敞开的窗子旁抽烟,如果是这样的话,我就可以从上面偷听他们的谈话了。

我回到卧室,穿上一件长长的带有兜帽的黑色斗篷,吹灭了蜡烛。呆了一会儿,我回到客厅,爬出窗户来到游廊的平顶上。我的心跳开始加速。我必须爬过五个窗子,其中四个已经没有了亮光,可第五个是伯爵夫人的房间,那儿恰好在书房上面,正是我要偷听的地方。而且,伯爵夫人的房间里还亮着烛光。我沿着平顶往前移动,然后手脚并用地爬过她的窗子。经过她窗下时,我抬头看了看——透过薄薄的窗帘看见她在窗前的身影……

我屏住呼吸。她是不是听见我在这儿了?她会向外看吗?没有,影子移开了,她走了。我来到平顶的边上,找好了偷听的位置。他们在这儿吗?会不会到别的地方去谈?啊,我听见伯爵的声音了。

“哈尔库姆小姐房间的蜡烛灭了,这两边的房间没人,唯一有亮光的窗户是我妻子的房间——好了,我们现在可以谈了。珀西瓦尔,我们的事现在出现了严重危机,今晚我们必须计划一下该怎么办。”

“事情比你想的还要糟。”珀西瓦尔爵士嘀咕着。

“听着,珀西瓦尔。这就是我们两人的处境。我们都是为了钱才到这个庄园来的,而得到钱的唯一途径是通过你的妻子。我跟你说过什么?我告诉你千万不要跟你妻子发脾气,尤其不能和她姐姐哈尔库姆小姐发脾气。可是你记住了吗?根本没有。你的坏脾气让我们失去了你妻子的签字,到手的钱没了,还让哈尔库姆小姐给律师写了第一封信——”

“第一封信?她又写信了吗?”

“是的,她今天又写信了。”

什么!他是怎么知道的?他是不是跟踪我去了旅店?但是就算他去了,也不会看到那两封信的——信是直接从我手里到了范妮的衣服里的。那他是怎么知道的呢?

“你很走运,”伯爵接着说,“有我在这儿帮你解决麻烦。你很走运,在你发疯一样把你的妻子当犯人关起来,不让她见哈尔库姆小姐的时候,我出来阻拦了你。你看不出来吗?哈尔库姆小姐具有男人一样的勇气和见识,我非常敬佩她!但是,她就像挡在我们和你那漂亮小妻子之间的一块巨石。现在说钱的问题。我们得到了一笔贷款——一笔代价极大的贷款——我们签了字,答应三个月后还钱。到时候,除了靠你妻子就没有任何办法还钱了吗?”

“没有。”

“你现在从你妻子那儿可以得到什么钱?”

“只有她那20,000英镑带来的收入。”

“你还能从你妻子身上得到更多的钱吗?”

“一分都没有——除非她死了”

“呵!除非她死了。”

谈话暂停了。天开始下雨,我感到身上又湿又冷。

珀西瓦尔爵士接着说:“如果她没留下孩子,我可以得到她那20,000英镑。”

“珀西瓦尔!你真的在乎你妻子吗?”

“福斯科!这个问题太直接了。”

“假如你妻子在夏末死去——”

“别说了,福斯科!”

“你会得到20,000英镑。”

“别光说我,还有你,福斯科。你也会受益,妻子死了,妻子口袋里就会装进10,000英镑。”

“珀西瓦尔,这就是现在的局面。如果你妻子活着,你需要得到她签字来还债;如果你妻子死了,你就用她的死来还债。”

福斯科夫人房间的烛光熄灭了,游廊顶上一团漆黑。雨还在下。我全神贯注地听着,把每个字都记在心里。

“珀西瓦尔,你现在必须把这件事交给我来办,我有两个多月的时间去想办法,现在咱们先不谈这个。让我来帮你解决另一个麻烦——那个好像和安妮·凯瑟里克这个名字有关的麻烦。”

“瞧,福斯科,我们或许是朋友,但我们都有各自的秘密。这件事与你无关。请你不要问我这件事。”

“我的朋友,我可以尊重你的秘密。我不问你的秘密是什么,但不管怎么说,我能帮你点儿什么吗?”

“假如找不到安妮·凯瑟里克,我就完了。她和她母亲都知道那个——那个秘密。那个秘密会毁了我,福斯科。安妮·凯瑟里克找过我妻子,我敢肯定她已经把秘密告诉我妻子了。”

“可是,作为你的妻子,保守这个秘密不也对她有好处吗?”

“如果她爱我,应该是这样的。但是,她爱上了一个她在我们结婚以前认识的人,一个叫沃尔特·哈特里特的绘画教师。是谁帮助安妮·凯瑟里克从精神病院逃走的?是哈特里特。又是谁在坎伯兰郡跟她见面?还是哈特里特。他知道这个秘密,我妻子也知道这个秘密。要是他们两个聚到一块儿,肯定利用这个秘密来对付我。”

“说的对,说的对,我明白了。哈特里特先生现在在哪儿?”

“在国外。他去美洲了。”

“那就不用担心了。他要是回来,我来对付他。你放心。不过我们还是要先找到安妮·凯瑟里克。她母亲呢?可信吗?”

“保守这个秘密对她有好处。”

“很好。不过我怎么才能认出安妮·凯瑟里克来?”

“这容易。她长得很像我妻子,只是脸色苍白,面容憔悴。”

我听见向后移动椅子的声响。伯爵站了起来,在屋里来回走动着,他显得非常惊讶。

alt

“什么!她跟你妻子有亲戚关系吗?”

“一点儿没有。”

“那就这么相像?我见到她会认出来的。”

“你到底在笑什么,福斯科?”

“只是一个想法,我的好朋友,一个想法而己。不过今晚就谈到这儿。你会还清债务,找到安妮·凯瑟里克的。我敢保证。你就放心吧,珀西瓦尔。”

谈话结束了。我听到书房的门关上了。我身上已经湿透,身体被冻得又僵又疼。起初整个人都动不了。我艰难地慢慢爬回我的窗边,爬进屋里。我跳到地板上时,听见钟响了,1点一刻。时间过得真快。我挣扎着起来,换上干衣服。我浑身发烫——同时也冷得打哆嗦。我明白我必须把听到的全都写下来,于是找出纸笔,开始不停地写起来。我烧得越来越厉害,浑身好像着了火。我打开窗户,让冷空气进来……

8点了。明媚的阳光使我的眼睛隐隐作痛。我头痛得非常厉害,全身酸痛,而且发烫,还不停地打哆嗦。我躺下睡觉,记录已经写完了。迷迷糊糊地,我看见福斯科伯爵进到我的房间,看了我写的东西。他笑了笑。我毫无办法——不能动,不能说话,不能呼吸……我陷入长长的昏迷,眼前一片黑暗……

8
Fever

While I lay unconscious in my illness, I knew nothing, of course, of the events happening around me. It was only much later that I learnt from other people what had happened.

When I eventually returned to Limmeridge, Fanny told me about the letters and the night she had left Blackwater.

'You left me at about seven, miss, and at nine o'clock I had another visitor — the Countess! Yes, I was so surprised. But she was very kind. She saw that I was upset at leaving and insisted on having some tea with me. So I drank my tea, and five minutes later I fainted — for the first time in my life! When I woke up, it was about half an hour later. A lady from the hotel was looking after me as the Countess had had to go home. I checked the letters in my dress, miss, and they were both there, quite safe.

'And just as you told me, in London I posted the letter to Mr Kyrle, and as soon as I got to Limmeridge, I delivered the other letter personally to Mr Fairlie. I told him all about being dismissed by Sir Percival and everything, and what had happened at the hotel, but, well, he didn't seem very interested, miss.'

That last piece of information did not surprise me in the least. Had Laura's uncle ever been interested in anybody except himself? When I went to talk to him, he was full of excuses.

'My nerves, dear Marian, remember my nerves! Yes, of course I will tell you about the letters, but please don't get excited and go around banging doors! Try to stay calm.'

'I suppose my letter about Laura upset you,' I said.

'Of course it did, dear Marian! What was I to do? You told me Laura needed to escape from her husband and to come to Limmeridge. But suppose Sir Percival had come after her? Think of the noise, the arguments, the banging of doors! That's why I wrote to you, to beg you to come here first by yourself, to talk the matter over with me.'

I never saw that letter, of course, as it arrived at Blackwater when I was unconscious with fever.

'And Mr Kyrle wrote to you as well, didn't he?' I said.

'Yes. He wrote to say he had received an envelope addressed to him in your handwriting, but which contained only a plain piece of paper without a word on it. He had written to you about it, and had received no reply. Why he expected me to explain this mystery, I had no idea. And that's what I told him.'

So helpful, I thought bitterly. But there was no point in saying anything. 'And were you surprised not to hear from me again?'

'Indeed I was, until my sister's foreign husband, that extraordinary Count Fosco, came to see me. Such a huge man!' said Mr Fairlie, his eyes closing at the memory. 'But surprisingly quiet on his feet. Anyway, he explained how ill you were, dear Marian, which was why you hadn't replied to my letter. I was extremely shocked and sorry to hear about your illness. But the Count did talk so much — I thought he would never leave!'

'And he persuaded you to write to Laura,' I said, trying to keep my voice calm and quiet.

'Yes, he urged me — in fact, practically ordered me — to invite Laura here at once. She was too nervous and upset to be of any use to you in the sick-room, he said, and the situation with Sir Percival was growing more dangerous every day. There was no trouble with the journey, because he and his wife had just rented a house in London. So Laura could travel up to London, stay the night with them, and travel on to Cumberland the next day.'

'So you wrote the letter and gave it to him,' I said.

'Where was the harm in it? In any case, I never for a moment thought that Laura would leave you alone when you were so ill. And how was I to know what shocking event was about to take place? No one could possibly say that I was to blame …'

*  *  *

I know now exactly who was to blame, but it took quite a time to put all the different pieces of information together. When I first began to be aware of my surroundings again during my recovery, I knew nothing, of course, about the letters. I knew only that I was not in my usual bedroom and there was a foreign lady looking after me. I had no idea who she was and she would not answer any of my questions. So I was very relieved a few days later when the familiar face of Mrs Michelson appeared.

'Oh, Mrs Michelson,' I said, 'I'm so glad to see you. Please tell me what's been happening.'

'You've had typhus fever, Miss Halcombe. You've been very ill. But you're getting stronger now, I'm happy to say.'

'Typhus! No wonder I feel so weak. And my sister, Lady Glyde — I do hope she didn't catch the infection?'

'No, no, she didn't.'

Mrs Michelson would not look me in the face, and I began to feel worried. Was she afraid to tell me something?

'Is my sister ill? Please, Mrs Michelson, I must know!'

'No, she's not ill. But... but she's not here. She went away yesterday to London, and is going on to Limmeridge today.'

I stared at her. Laura gone? I could not believe it. What did it mean? Had something terrible happened? I remembered the conversation I heard during the night on the verandah roof, and my heart filled with fear.

'And Sir Percival …?' I could not finish my question.

'Sir Percival left the house last night, to go abroad,' she said. 'The Count and Countess have gone to London, and the servants have all been dismissed, except for a cook and the gardener. You and I are the only people living in the house, Miss Halcombe.'

The shock of this news was so great that I felt faint. Mrs Michelson hurried to fetch me a glass of water.

'Oh, Miss Halcombe, I'm sorry,' she said. 'Try not to worry. You must rest now, and try to sleep a little.'

Later, when I felt stronger, we talked again. 'Tell me everything you can remember, from the day I fell ill,' I begged Mrs Michelson. 'I must know what happened.'

'Well, Miss Halcombe, on that first morning a servant found you, lying on your bed in a fever, holding a pen tightly in your hand. The doctor was called at once, a Mr Dawson, who said you were very ill. The Countess and I acted as your nurses — Lady Glyde wanted to help, but she was so upset at seeing you unconscious that she couldn't stop crying.

'Sir Percival and the Count were concerned about you too, though they seemed worried about something else as well. In fact, the Count spent three days down by the lake, at that old boat-house, and I remember he came in once when I was going through the hall. Sir Percival came rushing out of the library, saying, "Have you found her?" I didn't hear the answer and I have no idea who they were talking about.'

I had a very good idea who they were talking about, but it was obvious that Mrs Michelson didn't, so I said nothing.

'Your fever got worse,' Mrs Michelson went on. 'The Count said we needed a nurse to help us, so Madame Fosco took the train to London and came back with Mrs Rubelle.'

'Is that the foreign lady who was looking after me before you appeared, Mrs Michelson?' I asked.

'Yes, that's right. She didn't say very much, but she was a capable nurse. I had no complaints about her work. Mr Dawson, the doctor, was suspicious of her because she was recommended by the Count, and he didn't like the Count at all.'

'Why was that?' I asked.

'The Count had a lot of medical knowledge, you see, and he was always suggesting to Mr Dawson ways of reducing your fever. Mr Dawson called it interference and got quite angry about it. But in fact, miss, the Count recognized you had typhus fever before Mr Dawson did. He — the Count, that is — went away to London for a week, and when he came back, he took one look at you and said "Typhus". Mr Dawson sent to London for another doctor, who came and said the same thing. Then we had a very worrying ten days, when your life was in danger, but at last the doctor said you were through the worst and with good nursing care you would recover. Lady Glyde was so overcome by this happy news that she became ill herself and had to be put to bed.'

'My sister has always had delicate health,' I said.

'Yes, she's not strong. Anyway, Miss Halcombe, it was at this point that disturbing things started to happen. First, the Count and Mr Dawson argued again so fiercely that Mr Dawson left, saying he refused to offer his services any more. Next, Sir Percival told me that he was going to close the house. As soon as you and Lady Glyde were able to travel, he said, you would be going away for a change of air. He told me to dismiss all the servants, except a girl to do the cooking, and a gardener. Imagine! Just like that! I tell you, Miss Halcombe, if I hadn't felt so sorry for you and Lady Glyde, I would have resigned at once!

'The last thing was very strange indeed,' said Mrs Michelson, shaking her head. 'Sir Percival said that you and Lady Glyde would benefit from a stay at the seaside town of Torquay. He told me to go there to look for a suitable house to rent, and told me how much money I could pay. Well, I knew it wasn't enough, and I wish now that I hadn't gone, but he was my employer so I thought I had to obey his orders. I returned yesterday, after two days away, and told Sir Percival that it was impossible to find a house at such a low rent. Sir Percival showed no interest in my news at all. He just said that the Count and Countess had left Blackwater Park for their new house in London.'

Mrs Michelson looked at me anxiously. 'I think you'll find the next part of the story very upsetting,' she said. 'Poor Lady Glyde was cruelly deceived by her husband.'

'You don't surprise me,' I murmured. 'Please go on.'

'After seeing Sir Percival, I went upstairs to see you and Lady Glyde. Your sister, though still very weak, was feeling better and wanted to get up and go and visit you in your room. I helped her to dress and as we went down the passage, we met Sir Percival.

'"If you're going to see your sister, you won't find her," Sir Percival says. "She left the house yesterday with Fosco and his wife. She decided to go with them to London, on her way to Limmeridge. Mrs Rubelle went too, to look after her on the journey. You can look in her room if you don't believe me."

'I was shocked and amazed by this, and Lady Glyde's face went as white as a sheet. She almost ran down the passage and threw open the door to your room. It was empty.

'Then she cries out to Sir Percival, "Marian was much too ill to travel. Even if she did go, she would never leave without saying goodbye to me first. And why would she go to Limmeridge alone, leaving me here at Blackwater Park?"

'"Because your uncle won't receive you till he has seen your sister first," says Sir Percival. "Have you forgotten the letter he wrote to her at the beginning of her illness?"

'All through this interview, Miss Halcombe, I thought Sir Percival seemed very strange — jumpy and nervous, not at all his usual self. And now he just turned and walked away. Lady Glyde was shaking with fear, and looked at me with terror in her eyes. "Something's happened to my sister. I must follow her — I must see that she's alive and well with my own eyes. Please, Mrs Michelson, come down with me to Sir Percival. Stay with me, please!" She held my arm so tightly that I had to go with her.

'Sir Percival was in the dining room, drinking. He drank at least four glasses of wine while we were in there, Miss Halcombe. Lady Glyde was very brave, I thought. She said, "If my sister is well enough to travel, then so am I. Please allow me to follow her at once by the afternoon train."

'Sir Percival was so rude and rough with her. "You can go tomorrow," he said. "I'll write to Fosco. He can meet you at the station and you'll stay at his house overnight."

'Lady Glyde's hand began to tremble violently on my arm. "I would rather not stay at the Count's house," she said.

'Sir Percival then got very angry. "Why not?" he shouted." What's wrong with sleeping at your aunt's house? Your sister slept there last night to break her journey, and so will you. That's what your uncle, Mr Fairlie, wants you to do as well. Here — there's a letter from him. I forgot to send it up to you."

'Poor Lady Glyde was shaking so much that she gave me the letter to read to her. It was very short. I remember it, word for word: Dear Laura, please come whenever you like. Break the journey by sleeping at your aunt's house. Sorry to hear of Marian's illness. Your fond uncle, Frederick Fairlie.

'Lady Glyde didn't try to argue any more, and we went back upstairs. It seemed quite a sensible plan to me, Miss Halcombe, and I couldn't understand why Lady Glyde was so terrified of Count Fosco. She walked up and down her room, whispering, "Poor Marian — in that horrible man's power! I must find her, even if I have to follow her to Count Fosco's house."

'The next day I helped Lady Glyde get ready and went with her to the station. "If Marian has already left for Limmeridge, I won't stay at the Count's house," she told me. "I'll go and stay with Mrs Vesey, my old governess." As the train pulled away, I saw her pale, frightened face at the window. I felt so sad for her.

'Then I came back here. Imagine my surprise, Miss Halcombe, when I saw Mrs Rubelle walking in the garden! "What are you doing here?" I said. "You went to London with the Foscos and Miss Halcombe!" And then it all came out. You were still in the house. While I was out of the way in Torquay, they moved you to a room in an unused part of the house and kept you hidden. You must have been in a very deep sleep when they moved you. Perhaps they drugged you — I don't know. Then Sir Percival appeared and gave me this explanation. It was all for his wife's own good, he said. She needed a change of air, and would not have gone to Limmeridge if she had known that you were still in the house. He spoke in such a violent, angry way that I did not dare to express my opinion.

'So you see, Miss Halcombe, that was how poor Lady Glyde was deceived. It was wicked and cruel. I would have resigned my position immediately, but Sir Percival told me that Mrs Rubelle was leaving and there would be no one to look after you if I left too. So, naturally, I stayed. Sir Percival left last night, as I told you. The gardener said he seemed half mad. He called for his carriage, and drove away like an escaped criminal, saying his house was a prison and he would never return to it. I hope and pray, Miss Halcombe, that I never see that man again.'

Poor Laura — how she must have suffered! There was nothing I could do. I could not go after her as I was too weak even to stand. I hoped desperately that she had found out about the deception and would write soon to tell me that she was safe.

*  *  *

A letter came a few days later, but it was not for me, and not from Laura. It was for Mrs Michelson from Madame Fosco.

Mrs Michelson came into my room with the letter in her hand. Mr Dawson, who had agreed to be my doctor again now that the Count had gone, was behind her. I took one look at both their faces, and sat up in bed, terrified.

'What is it?' I gasped. 'You have some dreadful news for me. I can see it in your faces.'

Mrs Michelson sat down on the edge of the bed and took my hand. 'Your poor, dear sister, Lady Glyde...' she began.

The room began to darken around me, as though night was falling, and the words seemed to come from a great distance.

'... was taken seriously ill when she arrived at her aunt's house in London, and died the next day, very suddenly. She is to be buried at Limmeridge, in her mother's grave.'

*  *  *

Kind Mrs Michelson nursed me through my second illness, with Mr Dawson's help. I was not able to travel for more than three weeks, but eventually I found the strength to leave that hated house and return to Limmeridge. Mrs Michelson and I travelled together to London, where I went to see Mr Kyrle. To him I revealed the terrible suspicions in my mind about the circumstances of my sister's death. He was most concerned and promised to make enquiries for me.

I went on to Limmeridge House and a few days later Mr Kyrle wrote to me there. He had taken statements from several witnesses, he said, and was convinced that nothing suspicious had happened. He sent copies of the statements for my information. This was the one by the Count's cook, Mrs Hester Pinhorn:


I was recently employed as a cook by the Count and Countess Fosco at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. One day near the end of July, the Countess's niece, Lady Glyde, arrived at the house. She immediately fell ill. I saw her lying on the sofa, her face all white. I ran out for a doctor and came back with Mr Goodricke. He examined her and said she had a very serious heart disease. During the night she got worse. Then, at about five o'clock the next day, she lost consciousness. The doctor went in and, after putting his hand on her heart, announced that she was dead. He said that, as the Count was a foreigner, he himself would go to record the death at the district office. The Count and Countess were very badly affected by the lady's death. The lady's husband was abroad, so they arranged the funeral themselves, which took place in Cumberland.


I was still very weak from my long illness, and despair nearly overtook me at this point. I had no friend to turn to, and no idea what to do next. I went every day to the churchyard, to put flowers on the grave and to read again those sad, sad words.


In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde

Wife of Sir Percival Glyde, of Blackwater Park, Hampshire

Born 27th March 1829

Died 25th July 1850


personally adv. in person 亲自

practically adv. almost 几乎

rent v. use at a rent

typhus n. a serious infectious disease 斑疹伤寒

catch the infection be affected by the infectious disease 被传染

be through have passed 度过

fiercely adv. violently 激烈地

obey v. carry out a command 服从

jumpy adj. making sudden movements 躁动的

pull away (of a train ) leave (火车)离开;开走

drug v. to give someone a drug, esp in order to make them feel tired or go to sleep 用药麻醉

for one's good for one's interest 为了……的利益;为了……好

be convinced be certain that something is true 确信

announce v. make publicly known 宣布

overtake v. overwhelm 击垮

8.高烧

我在床上昏睡着,对周围发生了什么当然一无所知。很长时间以后,我才从别人那里得知出了什么事。

后来,我回到利默里奇,范妮告诉我那两封信的事以及她离开布莱克沃特那天晚上发生的事情。

“你从我那儿走的时候是7点钟,9点钟又来了一位客人——是伯爵夫人!没错,我非常吃惊。但她特别和善。她看出我在为离开而难过,就坚持要和我喝茶。我喝了茶,5分钟后就晕过去了——这可是我头一回晕过去!我醒的时候已经过了大约半小时。旅店的一位女士在照看我,伯爵夫人已经回去了。我检查衣服里的信,两封信都在,很安全。

“我照你说的,在伦敦把给克尔先生的信寄了出去,一到利默里奇,就把另一封信亲自交给了费尔利先生。我告诉他,我被珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了,还有在那边发生了什么以及旅店的事情,但是他好像对这些都没什么兴趣,小姐。”

对最后一点,我丝毫不觉得奇怪。劳拉的这个叔叔,除了对他自己的事还对什么有兴趣?我去找他谈的时候,他满嘴借口。

“我的神经,亲爱的玛丽安,别忘了我的神经不好!是的,我当然会告诉你信的事,可是请你不要激动,不要总那么使劲儿关门!请你保持冷静。”

“我想我写给你关于劳拉的信让你担心了吧。”我说。

“当然让我担心了,亲爱的玛丽安!我该怎么做呢?你说劳拉需要逃离她丈夫,回到利默里奇来。但是,如果珀西瓦尔爵士随后过来找她怎么办?想想那会有多少噪音、吵闹、摔门声!这就是我为什么给你写信,叫你自己先回来,跟我谈谈这件事。”

我当然没见过那封信,因为信到布莱克沃特的时候,我正发着高烧,昏睡不醒。

“克尔先生也给你写信了,是吗?”我问。

“是的,他写信给我说,他收到一个署名给他的信封,是你的笔迹,但是里面只有一张白纸,一个字也没有。他给你写过信,但没收到回音。我不明白他为什么叫解释这个迷,我就这么跟他说的。”

真是挺帮忙的,我心里恨恨地想。现在说什么也没用了。“再没接到我的来信,你不感到奇怪吗?”

“我的确感到奇怪,直到我的那个外国妹夫,福斯科伯爵过来看我,我才明白发生了什么。他可真胖!”费尔利先生闭上眼睛,陷入回忆之中,“但是他走路却很轻。他告诉我你病得非常厉害,所以没有回信。听说你生病我非常震惊,也很难过。可是,伯爵没完没了地跟我说话——我简直觉得他不想走了!”

“是他让你给劳拉写信的吧。”我尽量用平和的语气说。

“是的,他请求我——实际上是命令我——让劳拉马上回到这儿来。他说劳拉非常紧张害怕,在你的房间里也帮不了什么忙。而且珀西瓦尔爵士一天比一天危险。旅途中不会有问题,因为他和妻子刚刚在伦敦租了一栋房子,劳拉可以先到伦敦,在他们那里住一晚,第二天再赶往坎伯兰郡。”

“所以,你就写了那封信,让他拿走了?”我问。

“这有什么不好吗?不管怎样,我根本不相信劳拉会在你病重的时候丢下你不管。而且我怎么知道将要发生什么事?谁也不能把事情怪到我头上……”

*  *  *

现在我知道究竟是谁在搞鬼了,但是把各种消息都串起来颇费了一些时间。我刚从昏迷中醒来,注意到周围的时候,对信的事自然一无所知。我只知道自己不在原来的卧室,一位外国女士在旁边照顾我。我不知道她是谁,她也不回答我的任何问题。因此,几天后当米切尔森太太熟悉的脸出现在我面前时,我大大地松了一口气。

“噢,米切尔森太太,”我说,“见到你真是太高兴了。快告诉我到底发生了什么?”

“你得了斑疹伤寒,哈尔库姆小姐。你病得很厉害。不过,我很高兴你现在恢复得很好。”

“斑疹伤寒!怪不得我这么虚弱。我妹妹,格莱德夫人——我希望她没被传染吧?”

“没有,她没有被传染。”

米切尔森太太不敢正眼看我,我开始担心起来,她是不是害怕告诉我什么事情?

“我妹妹病了吗?米切尔森太太,我必须知道真相!”

“没有,她没病。不过……不过她已经不在这儿了。她昨天去了伦敦,准备今天去利默里奇。”

我盯着她。劳拉走了?我不信。这说明什么呢?出了可怕的事?我记起了在游廊顶上听到的谈话,心里充满了恐惧。

“那珀西瓦尔爵士……?”我无法把话讲完。

“珀西瓦尔爵士昨晚离开庄园,到国外去了,”她说,“伯爵夫妇去了伦敦,仆人们全都遣散了,就剩下一个厨师和一个园丁。庄园里只有你和我了,哈尔库姆小姐。”

这个消息对我的震动太大,我感到一阵眩晕,米切尔森太太赶忙去为我拿了杯水来。

“哦,哈尔库姆小姐,真抱歉,”米切尔森太太说,“你别担心,一定要好好休息,试着睡一会儿吧。”

后来,我身上有些力气了,我们又聊起来。“告诉我,自从我生病那天起都发生了什么?”我恳求米切尔森太太,“我一定要知道出了什么事。”

“好吧,哈尔库姆小姐。头一天早上,一个仆人发现你躺在床上,发着高烧,手里还紧紧握着钢笔。我们很快叫来了一位医生,道森先生。他说你病得很厉害。伯爵夫人和我一起照顾你——格莱德夫人也想帮忙,但是看到你昏迷的样子,她很难过,不住地哭。

“珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵也都为你担心,不过他们两人好像还在为别的事担心。实际上,伯爵在湖边呆了三天,就在那个老船屋里。我记得他有一次回来,我正路过大厅。这时,珀西瓦尔爵士从书房冲出来问他:‘找到她了吗?’我没听到回答,也不知道他们说的是谁。”

我非常清楚他们说的是谁,明显米切尔森太太不知道,所以我没有说话。

“你烧得越来越厉害,”米切尔森太太接着说,“伯爵说我们需要找一个护士帮忙,于是福斯科夫人坐火车去了伦敦,带回了鲁贝尔太太。”

“就是那位在你来之前照顾我的外国女士吗,米切尔森太太?”

“对,就是她。她很少说话,但很能干。我对她干活儿挑不出任何毛病。道森先生,那位医生,对她有怀疑,因为她是伯爵推荐的,而道森先生一点儿也不喜欢伯爵。”

“为什么呢?”我问。

“你知道伯爵懂得许多医学知识,他不断地向道森先生提出给你退烧的办法。道森先生非常生气,说这是干涉他的工作。但实际上,小姐,伯爵比道森先生更早地看出你得了斑疹伤寒。他——我是说伯爵——到伦敦去了一星期,回来后看了你一眼就说是‘斑疹伤寒’。道森先生从伦敦又请来一位医生,也说是斑疹伤寒。接下来的十天我们大家都非常担心,你当时有生命危险。不过最后,医生说你已经度过了危险期,只要得到精心照顾,就会好起来。听到这个好消息,格莱德夫人过于高兴,结果她自己病倒了,不得不卧床休息。”

“我妹妹的身体一直很弱。”我说。

“是的,她的身体不太好。不过,哈尔库姆小姐,就在这个时候,令人心烦的事接二连三地发生了。先是伯爵和道森先生大吵了一架,道森先生走了,他说不愿意再干了。然后,珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我他准备关闭庄园。他说等你和格莱德夫人能出门旅行了,就应该离开这里,换换环境。他让我辞退了所有的仆人,只留下一个女仆做饭,还有一个园丁。真是难以想象!就是这样!我跟你说,哈尔库姆小姐,要不是担心你和格莱德夫人,我当时马上就不干了!

“最后一件事非常奇怪,”米切尔森太太摇摇头接着说,“珀西瓦尔爵士说,你和格莱德夫人到海滨小城托基呆一段时间会对你们有好处。他叫我去那里找一栋合适的房子租下来,还告诉我只能花多少钱。唉,我知道钱不够。我现在真希望没去那个地方,但他是东家,我想我不能不听他的吩咐。我走了两天,昨天回来的。我告诉珀西瓦尔爵士用那么少的钱根本不可能租到房子。他对我的回复一点儿也不感兴趣,只是说伯爵夫妇已经离开布莱克沃特,去伦敦的新居了。”

米切尔森太太不安地看着我。“我想下面的事情一定会让你难过,”她说,“可怜的格莱德夫人让她丈夫骗惨了。”

“我不会感到惊讶的,”我轻声说,“请接着讲。”

“见过了珀西瓦尔爵士,我上楼去看你和格莱德夫人。你妹妹虽说还很虚弱,但已经好多了。她要起来到你的房间看你。我帮她穿好衣服。在走廊里我们碰到了珀西瓦尔爵士。

“‘如果你是去看你的姐姐,你不会找到她了,’珀西瓦尔爵士说,‘她昨天同福斯科夫妇离开了这里。她决定跟他们顺路到伦敦,然后去利默里奇。鲁贝尔太太也走了,她要在路上照看你姐姐。你要是不信我的话,可以到她的房间看看。’

“听到这些,我大吃一惊。格莱德夫人的脸变得煞白。她几乎在走廊里跑起来,一把推开你的房门,里面空无一人。

“然后她冲着珀西瓦尔爵士叫起来:‘玛丽安病得那么厉害,根本不能旅行。即使要去的话,她也不会不跟我道别就走。为什么她要一个人去利默里奇,把我留在布莱克沃特?’

“‘因为你叔叔要先跟你姐姐见面,再见你,’珀西瓦尔爵士说,‘难道你忘了在你姐姐刚病的时候,他写来的信了吗?’

“整个谈话中,哈尔库姆小姐,我觉得珀西瓦尔爵士显得很怪——又烦躁,又紧张,跟平时的他一点儿也不一样。说完,他就转身走开了。格莱德夫人害怕得直哆嗦,她看着我,眼睛里充满了恐惧。‘我姐姐出事了。我必须去找她,我必须亲眼看到她平安无事。米切尔森太太,请和我一起去找珀西瓦尔爵士。请陪我去!’她紧紧地抓着我的胳膊,我只好跟她一起下楼。

“珀西瓦尔爵士在餐厅喝酒,我们在的那一会儿,他就至少喝了四杯,哈尔库姆小姐。我觉得格莱德夫人很勇敢。她说:‘如果姐姐可以旅行,那我也可以。请允许我乘下午的火车去追她。’

“珀西瓦尔爵士对她非常无理、粗暴。‘你可以明天去,’他说,‘我会给福斯科写信。他会到车站接你,你晚上就住他那里。’

“格莱德夫人扶着我胳膊的手开始抖得很厉害。‘我不想住在伯爵家。’她说。

“珀西瓦尔爵士发怒了。‘为什么?’他大声嚷道,‘在你姑妈家过夜有什么不好?你姐姐昨天途中就是在那里过夜的,你也一样。这也是你叔叔费尔利先生的要求。给——这是他的信,我忘了给你了。’

“可怜的格莱德夫人哆嗦得很厉害,她把信交给我,让我念给她听。信很短,我还一字不差地记着:亲爱的劳拉,请在方便的时候回来。途中在姑妈家过夜。听说玛丽安病了,我非常难过。爱你的叔叔,弗雷德里克·费尔利。

“格莱德夫人没有再继续争下去,我们两人回到楼上。我觉得这样做很明智,哈尔库姆小姐,我不明白格莱德夫人为什么那么害怕福斯科伯爵。她在房间里走来走去,轻声自言自语:‘可怜的玛丽安——落到那个可怕的人手里!我一定要找到她,哪怕是到福斯科伯爵家里也要找到她。’

“第二天,我帮格莱德夫人准备好一切,陪她来到车站。‘如果玛丽安已经回利默里奇了,我就不住在伯爵家,’她告诉我,‘我会去找维西夫人,我原来的家庭教师。”火车开的时候,透过车窗我看到她苍白、恐慌的脸。我很为她难过。

“然后我回到这儿,竟然看到鲁贝尔太太在花园散步,哈尔库姆小姐,你知道我有多么惊讶!‘怎么在这儿?’我问,‘你不是和福斯科伯爵一家还有哈尔库姆小姐去伦敦了嘛!’后来事情慢慢都清楚了。你还在庄园。趁我去托基的时候,他们把你搬到了庄园里一个没人住的房间藏起来了。他们搬动你的时候,你肯定在昏睡。也许他们给你吃了药——我不清楚。这时,珀西瓦尔爵士过来给了我如下的解释。他说这一切都是为了他妻子好,她需要换个环境,假如她知道你还在庄园,是不会去利默里奇的。他说话时怒气冲冲的,我没敢说什么。

“你看,哈尔库姆小姐,这就是可怜的格莱德夫人受骗的经过。多么恶毒、多么不近人情。我本来要马上辞职的,但是珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我,鲁贝尔太太要走了,要是我也走的话,就没人照顾你了。这不,我就又留了下来。珀西瓦尔爵士是昨晚离开的,我刚才告诉过你。听园丁说,他跟疯了似的。他吩咐准备马车,然后仿佛落荒而逃的囚犯般驾车走了,嘴里还说什么这个家像个监狱,他再也不想回来了。我真的希望,哈尔库姆小姐,我再也不会见到那个人了。”

可怜的劳拉——她肯定受了很多罪!我现在一点儿办法也没有,也无法去追她,我现在虚弱得站都站不起来。我真的希望劳拉能够发现这个骗局,尽快地给我写信,告诉我她平安无事。

*  *  *

几天后来了一封信,但不是给我的,也不是劳拉写来的,而是福斯科夫人写给米切尔森太太的。

米切尔森太太拿着那封信走进我的房间,后面跟着道森先生,他同意继续为我看病,因为伯爵已经走了。我看到他们两人的神色,从床上坐起来,心里很害怕。

“出了什么事?”我急切地问,“你们有可怕的消息要告诉我。我从你们的脸上能看出来。”

米切尔森太太在我的床边坐下,握住我的手。“你那可怜的、亲爱的妹妹,格莱德夫人……”她说。

我的周围变得一团漆黑,就像夜色降临一样,下面的话似乎是从很遥远的地方传来的。

“……她到伦敦的姑妈家以后就病倒了,第二天就死了,死得非常突然。她将被安葬在利默里奇,她母亲的墓地。”

*  *  *

我又病倒了,好心的米切尔森太太在道森先生的帮助下精心地照顾我。三个多星期的时间里,我都无法出门旅行。但我终于恢复了体力,离开了那个令人憎恨的庄园,回到利默里奇。米切尔森太太和我一同来到伦敦,我去见了克尔先生,向他讲述了我心中对妹妹死因的怀疑。他对这件事很关心,答应为我调查。

我到利默里奇几天后,克尔先生的信也寄到了那里。他从几个证人那里获得了证词,他相信没有任何可疑的事发生。他把证词的副本寄给了我。下面是福斯科的厨师赫斯特·平霍恩太太的笔录:


我是最近受雇于福斯科伯爵夫妇的,他们住在圣约翰伍德,弗雷斯特街5号。快7月底的一天,伯爵夫人的侄女,格莱德夫人来到伯爵家。她很快就病了。我看见她躺在沙发上,脸色苍白。我跑去叫医生,找来了古德里克先生。他给她做了检查,说她得了严重的心脏病。当天夜里,她病情加重。大约第二天早上5点,她失去了知觉。医生进来,用手摸了摸她的胸口,说她已经死了。医生说,因为伯爵是外国人,所以他得亲自到地区办公室报告人口死亡。福斯科伯爵夫妇对格莱德夫人的死非常伤心。格莱德夫人的丈夫在国外,因此他们安排了葬礼的有关事宜,葬礼安排在坎伯兰郡举行。


由于长时间生病,我现在还非常虚弱,此时绝望几乎将我击垮。我找不到什么朋友可以倾诉,茫然不知下面该如何是好。每天我都去教堂墓地,去给劳拉的墓献花,一遍又一遍地读着那些令我心碎的文字。


爱妻劳拉·格莱德之墓

生于1829年3月27日

卒于1850年7月25日

汉普郡布莱克沃特庄园

珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士立

准备婚事

PART TWO
THE STORY TOLD BY MARIAN HALCOMBE
第二部分 玛丽安·哈尔库姆的讲述

4
Arrangements for a marriage

It was a sad day when Walter Hartright left us. Laura stayed in her room all day, and I felt sad and depressed. Poor Mr Gilmore must have had a dull time, and the next morning, when Laura reappeared looking pale and ill, I thought he seemed rather anxious about her. I was anxious too. Laura is such a sensitive and loving person that it was no surprise to me to find that she had grown fond of Walter. Indeed, I have grown fond of him myself. But I honestly believe that time will cure Laura of these feelings.

Two days after Walter left, Sir Percival Glyde arrived. He is forty-five years old but seems younger. He is handsome, and only a little bald, has perfect manners, and is pleasant, agreeable, and respectful. I really must try to like him.

In the afternoon, while Laura was out of the room, Sir Percival referred to Anne Catherick's letter.

'I read Mr Gilmore's letter to my lawyer,' he said, 'and I want to give you a full explanation. Mrs Catherick, you see, worked for me and my family for many years. Her marriage was unfortunate, in that her husband deserted her, and her only child, a girl, became mentally ill and needed to be put in an asylum. So, in recognition of Mrs Catherick's services, I agreed to pay the expenses of a private asylum for the girl. Unfortunately, the girl discovered this and consequently developed a hatred for me. She recently escaped from the asylum and I'm sure she wrote this letter because of her hatred for me. It's all very sad.'

Mr Gilmore found this explanation perfectly satisfactory, and said so. He then looked at me for agreement, but I was struggling with a sense of unease that I could not explain, and hesitated before answering. Sir Percival noticed this at once.

'May I beg you, Miss Halcombe,' he said politely, 'to write to Mrs Catherick to ask if these facts are true?'

I did not want to agree to this, but how could I refuse, without making the situation even more embarrassing than it already was? So I went to the desk, wrote a note, and gave it to him. Without looking at it, he put it in an envelope and wrote the address.

'Now that is done,' he said, 'may I ask if Anne Catherick spoke to Miss Fairlie, or to you?'

'No. She spoke to nobody except Mr Hartright,' I replied.

'Ah, yes, the drawing teacher,' he said thoughtfully. 'And did you discover where Anne Catherick was staying?'

I described the farm to him.

'It is my duty to try to find her,' he continued. 'Tomorrow I will go to this farm and make enquiries.' Soon afterwards he left to go up to his room.

*  *  *

That evening and the next day Sir Percival took every opportunity to bring Laura into the conversation, but she hardly took any notice. He went to the farm to make his enquiries about Anne Catherick, but learnt nothing. Then on Wednesday a letter came from Mrs Catherick — a short, business-like letter, thanking me for my note and saying that everything Sir Percival had told me was completely correct.

Why did I still have doubts? This, surely, was enough proof for anyone, but how I wished that Walter Hartright had been there to give his opinion! At Sir Percival's request I now had to give Laura his explanation of Anne Catherick's letter. She listened quietly and showed no emotion, but I noticed that on the table near her hand was the little book of Hartright's drawings. I also had to tell her that the reason for Sir Percival's visit was to fix the day of their marriage.

'I'm afraid he will ask you to decide quite soon, Laura.'

'Oh no, Marian! I can't do that!' she said. 'Please ask him, beg him, to allow me more time. I promise to give him a final answer before the end of the year, but not yet, please, not yet.'

Sir Percival agreed to this request, and when Mr Gilmore heard about it, he arranged to have a private talk with Laura.

'I have to return to London tomorrow,' he said to me, 'and I need to discuss the financial side of this marriage with Miss Fairlie before I go. As you know, she will inherit a great deal of money and property when she becomes twenty-one next March, and I must include all this in the marriage agreement in a way that reflects Miss Fairlie's own wishes, and is also acceptable to Sir Percival.'

He had the meeting with Laura the next morning, and in the afternoon he left for London, looking rather sad and thoughtful. Wondering what had been said, I hurried up to Laura's room.

'Oh, Marian, come in,' she said. 'I need to talk to you.'

'What is it, Laura? Is it about the marriage agreement?'

'No. I couldn't even bear to discuss that with Mr Gilmore. I'm ashamed to say that all I could do was cry. He was very kind and good, Marian, and he said that he would look after everything for me. No, what I wanted to tell you was this. I cannot bear the situation any longer. I must end it.'

Her eyes were bright and she spoke with great energy. I began to feel alarmed. 'What do you wish to do, Laura darling? Do you want to be released from your promise to marry Sir Percival?'

'No,' she said simply. 'I cannot break my promise to my father. But I want to tell the truth, and I will confess to Sir Percival that I love someone else.'

'Laura! He has no right to know that!' I said in amazement.

'I cannot deceive him,' she said. 'I have thought it over carefully. After I have told him, let him do as he wishes.'

I looked into her innocent, loving eyes and could say nothing. I just put my arms around her, trying not to cry myself.

'May I speak to him tomorrow, in your presence, Marian?'

I held her tight and agreed — though I was not sure I was doing the right thing. Indeed, I was not sure of anything. I could not understand how I had failed to see how deeply she loved Walter Hartright. For the first time in my life I had made a mistake about her. Now I realized that she would love him all her life.

*  *  *

The first thing that happened the next morning did nothing to make me feel more cheerful. A letter arrived for me from poor Walter Hartright. He had decided to leave England and asked me if I could help him find employment abroad. I was then alarmed to read that since his return to London he had neither seen nor heard anything of Anne Catherick, but suspected he had been watched and followed by strange men. I was worried about his state of mind, so I immediately wrote to some friends in London to ask if they could help him find a suitable job in another country. Laura, of course, knew nothing about these letters.

Sir Percival did not join us for breakfast, but sent a message, saying he would meet us at eleven o'clock, as arranged. Laura seemed calm and unusually self-controlled. I had never seen her like this. It was almost as if love had created a new force in her character.

At exactly eleven Sir Percival knocked and entered, with anxiety and worry in every line of his face. This meeting would decide his future life, and he obviously knew it.

'You may wonder, Sir Percival,' said Laura calmly, 'if I am going to ask to be released from my promise to marry you. I am not going to ask this. I respect my father's wishes too much.'

His face relaxed a little, but I saw one of his feet nervously beating the carpet.

'No, if we are going to withdraw from our planned marriage, it will be because of your wish, Sir Percival, not mine.'

'Mine?' he said in great surprise. 'What reason could I have for withdrawing?'

'A reason that is very hard to tell you,' she answered. 'There is a change in me.'

His face went so pale that even his lips lost their colour. He turned his head to one side.

'What change?' he asked, trying to hide his nervousness.

'When the promise was made two years ago,' she said, 'my love did not belong to anyone. Will you forgive me, Sir Percival, if I tell you that it now belongs to another person?'

Her tears started to fall, and Sir Percival hid his face behind his hand, so that it was impossible to know what he was thinking. He made no answer, and my temper got the better of me.

'Sir Percival!' I said sharply. 'Have you nothing to say? You have already heard more than you have a right to hear.'

'But I didn't ask for that right,' he said, avoiding my question.

'I wish you to understand,' Laura continued, 'that I will never see this person again, and that if you leave me, you only allow me to remain a single woman for the rest of my life. All I ask is that you forgive me and keep my secret.'

'I will do both those things,' he said. Then he looked at Laura, as if he was waiting to hear more.

'I think I have said enough to give you reason to withdraw from our marriage,' she added quietly.

'No. You have said enough to make it the dearest wish of my life to marry you,' he said, getting up and advancing towards her.

Laura gave a cry of surprise, but I had more than half expected this. Every word she had spoken had shown her honesty and her innocence, but these fine qualities had destroyed her own hopes of a release. Sir Percival understood very well the priceless value of a pure and true woman. Why would he give her up now?

'I will do everything I can to earn your love,' he said, 'and perhaps in time I will win it.'

'Never!' she answered, looking more beautiful than ever. 'I will be your true and loyal wife, but never your loving wife.'

'That is enough for me. I accept your loyalty and your truth,' he said, then raised her hand to his lips and silently left the room.

Laura sat without moving. I put my arm around her. At last she said,' I must resign myself, Marian. If you write to Walter, don't tell him how unhappy I am. And if I die first, please say to him, say what I could never say myself — say I loved him!'

Then she threw herself on the sofa and cried as if her heart was breaking, until at last she fell asleep.

*  *  *

In the days that followed it seemed that nothing could prevent this miserable marriage from taking place. I tried to make Laura change her mind, but she was determined to keep her promise, and to do her duty. Mr Fairlie was, of course, very happy that the 'family worry' was now at an end and suggested that the sooner his niece got married the better. This made me very angry, but when I told Laura, I was surprised by her calm reply.

'My uncle is right. I have caused trouble and anxiety to everyone. Let Sir Percival decide on the day for our marriage.'

Sir Percival was delighted by this news, and he then left to prepare for the bride's reception at his house in Hampshire.

I thought that a change would do Laura good, so I arranged for us both to go and stay with some friends in Yorkshire. She passively agreed with my idea. I also wrote to Mr Gilmore, telling him this marriage would now take place.

The next day I received a letter from Walter Hartright, saying that my friends had got him a job on an expedition to Central America. He was going to be the artist for the expedition. He was leaving on 21st November and would be away for six months. I could only hope that this was for the best.

Laura and I then departed for Yorkshire but after only nine days there we received a letter from Mr Fairlie, calling us back to Limmeridge immediately. What could this mean, I wondered?

I found out as soon as we arrived. Mr Fairlie and Sir Percival had agreed on 22nd December for the wedding, provided that Laura also agreed. Would I please persuade her, said Mr Fairlie. His nerves were much too bad to talk to her himself.

I also found our old friend Mr Gilmore, who had come to talk to Mr Fairlie about the marriage agreement. He was leaving that day, and was anxious to speak to me alone before he left.

'I am not at all happy about the financial arrangements in the agreement, Miss Halcombe,' he said, 'but there is nothing I can do about it. I know how fond you are of your sister and I think you ought to know why I am concerned.

'As you will know,' he went on, 'there are three parts to Miss Fairlie's inheritance. Firstly, on Mr Fairlie's death, she will inherit the Limmeridge property and land, and the income from it. If she dies childless, this property will go to a cousin, but the income from it will go to her husband during his lifetime. If she has a son, everything — property and income — will go to the son. No problems there.

'Secondly, when Miss Fairlie reaches the age of twenty-one next March, she will receive the income from £10,000. This £10,000 will go to her aunt Eleanor, if Miss Fairlie dies before her aunt — which is not very likely. The reason Miss Fairlie's father did not leave the £10,000 to his sister Eleanor on his death was that he disapproved strongly of her marriage to a foreigner, even though the man was an Italian nobleman, Count Fosco.'

'Yes, Laura has told me about that,' I said.

'Well,' Mr Gilmore went on, 'there are no problems there either. But the third part of Miss Fairlie's inheritance is more difficult. Next March she will also inherit £20,000, which will be her own money completely. If she dies before her husband, the income from the £20,000 will go to Sir Percival for his lifetime, and the capital will go to their children. If there are no children to inherit the capital, Miss Fairlie can choose relations and friends to inherit the money when she dies. That's what I proposed, but Sir Percival's lawyer did not accept it. He insists that if Sir Percival survives his wife and there are no children, Sir Percival should receive the capital. In that case, nothing will go to any other member of the family, including you, Miss Halcombe.'

Mr Gilmore sighed deeply. 'I protested strongly. I tried every argument I could, but nothing would change the lawyer's mind. I've discovered, you see, that Sir Percival is always in debt and always in need of cash. My last effort has been to come here, to try and persuade Mr Fairlie to oppose this demand from Sir Percival's lawyer. I am sorry to say I have not succeeded. Mr Fairlie wishes to avoid all responsibility for his niece's marriage arrangements. He says that his niece will not die before Sir Percival anyway, so what is there to worry about?'

Mr Gilmore stood up to go and picked up his hat. 'I shall complete the agreement and send it in. I have no choice. If I don't do it, Mr Fairlie will find another lawyer who will. But I tell you, Miss Halcombe, no daughter of mine should be married to any man alive under such an agreement as I am forced to make for Miss Fairlie.'

With that, he shook my hand, and without another word he went away to catch his train back to London.

After he had gone, I tried to be sensible. Mr Fairlie was Laura's guardian and if he chose to accept this agreement, there was nothing I could do about it. It was just one more worry about this dreadful marriage. A more immediate worry was the date of the wedding. When I told Laura, she turned pale and trembled.

'Not so soon!' she cried. 'Oh, Marian, not so soon!'

'Well, let me speak to Mr Fairlie, then,' I said, ready to fight for her. 'I will try to change it.'

'No,' she said faintly. 'Too late, Marian, too late! It will only make more trouble. Please tell my uncle I agree.'

I think I would have cried if I had not been so angry. I rushed into Mr Fairlie's room and shouted loudly, 'Laura agrees to the twenty-second' — and rushed out again, banging the door noisily. I hoped I had destroyed his nerves for the whole day.

*  *  *

After this the wedding preparations began. The dressmakers came and went all the time; there was packing, and planning, and all kinds of arrangements to make. We heard every day from Sir Percival. After the wedding he proposed to take Laura to Italy for six months. They would meet a number of Sir Percival's friends there, including his best and oldest friend, Count Fosco, whose wife, of course, was Laura's Aunt Eleanor. At least this marriage would bring Laura and her aunt together again, I thought. The Count himself sounded a most interesting person, and I rather hoped that I would meet him one day.

All too quickly the days passed. Sir Percival arrived, looking a little tired and anxious but talking and laughing like the happiest of men. The evening after he arrived he went off to the village to ask if anyone had any news of Anne Catherick. No one had heard anything, but I had to admit that it was good of him to continue to try to help her. I have decided to try and think better of him. After all, what reason do I have to distrust him? I am sure that I could like him if I really tried.

It is getting quite easy to like him. Today I spoke to him about the dearest wish of both Laura and myself — that I should be able to live with Laura after her marriage, just as I had always lived with her before. He agreed instantly and seemed delighted with the plan. I would be the ideal, the perfect companion for his wife, he said. Yes, I am beginning to like Sir Percival very much.

*  *  *

I hate Sir Percival! He has no sensitivity, no kindness, no good feeling. Last night he whispered something in Laura's ear — she has refused to tell me what it was — and her face turned white with misery. He took no notice at all, and all my suspicions of him have returned. Is he now showing his true character? He seems more restless and nervous than before, and is often sharp and bad-tempered. I have this strange idea that something might happen to prevent the marriage — and that he is afraid of that. A foolish thought. I must forget it.

As the day of our separation grows nearer, Laura cannot bear to have me out of her sight. I must be brave and cheerful, for her sake, but my fear will not go away. Will this marriage be the one terrible mistake of her life, and the one hopeless sorrow of mine?

*  *  *

It is the twenty-second. No more time for tears. Laura is dressed, and we leave for the church. By eleven o'clock they are married. By three o'clock they are gone. I am blind with crying and can write no more...


cure v. restore to health 治愈

respectful adj. showing deference 有礼貌的

desert v. abandon 抛弃

private adj. independent; not connected with government, public service, etc. 私立的

hesitate v. show or feel uncertainty or indecision 犹豫

embarrassing adj. causing to feel awkward or self-conscious or ashamed 令人难堪的;使人尴尬的

thoughtfully adv. engaged in or given to meditation 沉思地;若有所思地

business-like adj. serious, formal 正式的

emotion n. a strong mental or instinctive feeling 情感

inherit v. receive by legal descent or succession 继承

presence n. the state or condition of being present 在场

release v. set free; liberate 解除

withdraw v. discontinue, cancel 撤出;退出

advance v. move forward 向前走

destroy v. spoil utterly 破坏

in time eventually 最终

loyal adj. true, faithful 忠贞的

resign v. give up 退让

passively adv. offering no objection 被动地;不反对

expedition n. a journey for a particular purpose 为特别目的的旅行

provided conj. on the condition that 只要

likely adj. probable 可能的

disapprove v. have or express an unfavourable opinion 反对

capital n. money used to produce more wealth 资金

protest v. make a protest against an action or proposal 抗议;反对

dreadful adj. terrible, inspiring fear or awe 可怕的

bang v. shut noisily 用力关上

distrust v. have no trust or confidence in, doubt 不相信;怀疑

instantly adv. occurring immediately 立即;即刻

ideal adj. perfect, excellent 最好的

4.准备婚事

沃尔特·哈特里特先生离开的那天,我们都很难过。劳拉一整天呆在自己的房间里不出来,我的心情也很沉闷。可怜的吉尔摩先生肯定觉得那天很无聊。第二天早晨,劳拉从房间出来的时候,面容憔悴,像是病了一场。我觉得吉尔摩先生似乎很为她担心,我也为她担心。劳拉是个敏感而深情的人,她喜欢上沃尔特我一点儿也不觉得奇怪。其实,我自己也喜欢他。但是,我真心希望时间能够治愈劳拉的情伤。

沃尔特离开两天以后,珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士来了。他45岁,但看上去比实际年龄要年轻一些。他很英俊,稍有些秃顶,举止优雅,温和有礼。我尽力让自己对这个人产生好感。

下午,劳拉不在房里的时候,珀西瓦尔爵士提到了安妮·凯瑟里克的那封信。

“我看了吉尔摩先生给我律师的信,”他说,“我想跟你们好好地解释一下。凯瑟里克太太为我和我的家庭工作了许多年,她的婚姻很不幸,她丈夫抛弃了她,她的独生女精神有毛病,需要送进精神病院。所以,为了感谢凯瑟里克太太多年来的服务,我答应承担送她女儿去一家私立精神病院的所有费用。但不幸的是,女孩知道以后,就开始对我怀恨在心。她不久前从精神病院逃走了,我敢肯定是她出于对我的仇恨写了这封信。这太让人伤心了。”

吉尔摩先生认为这个解释非常令人满意,他说完看了看我,希望我也同意他的说法。可是,我有一种说不清的不安的感觉,犹豫了一会儿,没有说话。珀西瓦尔爵士立刻注意到了我的反应。

“哈尔库姆小姐,能否请你给凯瑟里克太太写封信,问问她这些是不是真的呢?”他非常客气地说。

我不想答应他的要求,但是又怎么好拒绝呢?拒绝只能把事情弄得越来越尴尬。于是,我走到桌旁,写了封短信,然后交给了珀西瓦尔。他看也没看就把信装进信封,写上了地址。

“好了,这件事就这样了,”他说,“请问安妮·凯瑟里克跟费尔利小姐或者你谈过吗?”

“没有。她只跟哈特里特先生谈过。”我告诉他。

“噢,是了,那位绘画教师,”他若有所思地说,“你们找到安妮·凯瑟里克的住处了吗?”

我跟他讲了农场的情况。

“找到她是我的责任,”他接着说,“明天我就去农场问问。”不一会儿,他就上楼回他的房间去了。

*  *  *

那天晚上以及第二天,珀西瓦尔爵士努力寻找一切机会同劳拉讲话,但劳拉一直心不在焉。珀西瓦尔去农场调查,结果一无所获。星期三凯瑟里克太太来信了,那是一封简短而又正式的信。信中感谢我给她写信,并且说珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我的都是事实。

为什么我还是有疑问呢?这封信对谁来讲都是充分的证据,可我还是很希望沃尔特·哈特里特先生能在这儿发表一下他的看法。应珀西瓦尔爵士的要求,我得向劳拉解释一下安妮·凯瑟里克来信的事情。她静静地听着,脸上毫无表情。我注意到她手边的桌上放着哈特里特先生的画册。我还得告诉她,珀西瓦尔爵士此行的目的是要确定他们结婚的日期。

“恐怕他会让你马上做决定,劳拉。”

“噢,不行,玛丽安!我不能!”她说,“请帮我问问他,恳求他再给我些时间。我保证年底以前给他最终的答复,但是现在不行,现在不行。”

珀西瓦尔爵士答应了这个要求。吉尔摩先生得知事情的经过后,准备同劳拉单独谈谈。

“我明天必须回伦敦去,”吉尔摩先生对我说,“走之前,我需要和费尔利小姐谈一下这桩婚事的财务问题。你知道,明年3月她21岁的时候,她会继承一大笔财产,我必须把这些都写进结婚协议中去,让协议既能反映费尔利小姐的愿望,也能令珀西瓦尔爵士接受。”

转天上午,吉尔摩先生和劳拉谈了话。下午,他动身去伦敦时,看上去忧心忡忡。不知道他们都说了些什么,我连忙赶去劳拉的房间。

“噢,玛丽安,快进来,我有话跟你说。”劳拉说。

“出了什么事,劳拉?是结婚协议的事吗?”

“不是。我简直没办法跟吉尔摩先生谈这件事。我真不好意思说出口,刚才我只是一个劲儿地哭,什么也没说。吉尔摩先生非常善良,玛丽安,他告诉我,他会帮我打理一切。我现在要告诉你的是,我再也受不了这种局面了,我必须结束这种状况。”

她的眼睛很亮,语气也很坚决。我感到有些害怕,“你想要做什么,亲爱的劳拉?你要解除同珀西瓦尔爵士的婚约吗?”

“不是的,”她回答,“我不能打破对父亲的承诺。但是,我要说出真话,我要告诉珀西瓦尔爵士我爱上了别人。”

“劳拉!他无权知道这件事!”我惊讶地说。

“我不能欺骗他,”她说,“我已经想好了。我把真相告诉他,让他决定该怎么办。”

我看着她纯洁、深情的眼神,一句话也说不出来。我伸手抱住她,尽量控制自己不哭出来。

“明天我就跟他说,你跟我去,好吗,玛丽安?”

我紧紧地抱着她,答应了她的请求——我也不清楚自己做的是对是错。我对什么都没了把握。我不明白为什么我没发觉她爱沃尔特·哈特里特爱得那么深。我第一次对她做出了错误的判断。现在我知道,她会一辈子爱着他。

*  *  *

第二天早晨发生的事让我一点儿也高兴不起来,可怜的沃尔特·哈特里特来信说他决定离开英国,问我能否帮他在国外找份工作。信后面的内容使我非常担心。他回伦敦以后,既没有见到安妮·凯瑟里克,也没有打听到她的任何消息,反而觉得有陌生人在盯他的梢。我担心他情绪不稳,赶忙给几个在伦敦的朋友写信,看他们能不能帮他在国外找到一份合适的工作。当然,劳拉对信的事一无所知。

珀西瓦尔爵士没有来同我们一起吃早餐,他捎话给我们说他会按约定11点来见我们。劳拉超乎寻常的冷静、镇定。我从未见她这样过,好像爱情使她更坚强了。

11点整,珀西瓦尔爵士敲门进来。他满脸紧张和不安。这次谈话将会决定他今后的生活,他显然非常清楚这一点。

“你可能会认为我是来请求与你解除婚约的,珀西瓦尔爵士,”劳拉冷静地说,“我不是来做这样的请求的,我非常尊重父亲的意愿。”

珀西瓦尔爵士的表情放松了一些,但我看到他的一只脚在紧张地敲打着地毯。

“我不会那样做的,如果我们两人要解除婚约的话,那一定是出于你的意愿,珀西瓦尔爵士,而不会是我的。”

“我的意愿?”他吃惊地说,“我能有什么理由解除婚约呢?”

“一个很难向你启齿的理由,我这里有了些变故。”劳拉回答。

珀西瓦尔的脸色变得煞白,双唇一点儿血色都没有。他把脸转向一侧。

“什么变故?”他尽量掩饰着自己的紧张。

“两年前约定婚事的时候,我的爱不属于任何人,”劳拉接着说,“如果我告诉你,珀西瓦尔爵士,我的爱现在属于另一个人,你会原谅我吗?”

她的眼泪流了下来。珀西瓦尔爵士用手捂住了脸,让人看不出他是怎么想的。他一句话也不说,我的直脾气可受不了了。

“珀西瓦尔爵士!”我大声问道,“你不想说点儿什么吗?你已经听到了本来你无权听到的事情。”

“可我并没有要求这权利。”他回避了我的问题。

“我想告诉你,”劳拉继续说,“我再也见不到那个人了。如果你和我分手,我会终身不嫁。我只请求你原谅我,并为我保守秘密。”

“两件事我都答应。”珀西瓦尔说完,看了看劳拉,似乎等着她再说些什么。

“我想我已经讲了足够的理由让你解除婚约。”劳拉平静地说。

“不,你说了这么多,我唯一的感觉是我一生最大的愿望就是同你结婚。”说着,他起身朝劳拉走过来。

劳拉惊讶得“咦”了一声,我倒是猜到了几分他会这么说。劳拉讲的每一句话都透出她的真诚和纯洁,但是这样良好的品德却毁掉了她解脱的希望。珀西瓦尔爵士很清楚,一个纯洁、真诚的女人是无价之宝。他为什么要放弃呢?

“我会尽一切所能去赢得你的爱,也许最终我会成功的。”珀西瓦尔说。

“永远也不会的!”劳拉看上去更美了,“我会是你忠实的妻子,但永远不会爱你。”

“这就足够了。我愿意接受你的忠贞和真诚。”说罢,他拿起劳拉的手吻了吻,然后默默地走出房间。

劳拉坐在那里一动不动,我伸出手搂住她。最后她开口道:“我必须退让,玛丽安。你给沃尔特写信时,不要告诉他我不开心。假如我比他先死了,你一定对他说,说我不能亲口对他说的话——我爱他!”

说完,她扑在沙发上放声痛哭,哭得好像心都碎了一样,最后她趴在那儿睡着了。

*  *  *

接下来的日子里,好像什么也阻止不了这桩不幸的婚姻。我力图让劳拉改变主意,但她却坚持要恪守诺言,履行义务。费尔利先生自然非常高兴,因为这场“家庭烦恼”终于画上了句号。他建议他的侄女越早结婚越好。这令我很气愤,但我把这话告诉劳拉后,她的平静反应倒让我吃了一惊。

“叔叔说的对,我给大家带来了太多麻烦。让珀西瓦尔爵士决定我们的结婚日期吧。”

珀西瓦尔爵士对此非常高兴,他离开庄园回汉普郡,准备迎接新娘。

我想换一个环境肯定对劳拉有好处,于是安排我们两人到约克郡的朋友那里呆一段时间。她同意了。我还给吉尔摩先生写了信,告诉他这桩婚事可以继续了。

第二天,我收到了沃尔特·哈特里特的来信,信中说我的朋友为他找到一份工作,要到中美洲长途旅行,他做随行的画家,11月21号动身,行程6个月。我衷心希望这是最好的安排。

劳拉和我动身前往约克郡。但是,刚刚在那里住了9天,我们就收到费尔利先生的信,让我们立即返回利默里奇。这意味着什么呢,我想不出。

一回来我就明白了。费尔利先生和珀西瓦尔爵士已经把婚礼的时间定在12月22日,就等劳拉点头同意了。费尔利先生问我可不可以说服劳拉同意这个日期,他本人神经不好,无法跟她谈。

我见到了我们的老朋友吉尔摩先生,他是来同费尔利先生谈有关结婚协议的事的。他当天就要离开庄园,着急想与我单独谈谈。

“哈尔库姆小姐,我对结婚协议中的财务安排非常不满意,”他对我说,“但是我一点儿办法也没有。我知道你多么爱你的妹妹,所以我认为你应该知道我为什么担心。

“你知道,”他接着说,“费尔利小姐继承的财产包括三部分。第一,费尔利先生死后,她会继承利默里奇的财产和土地以及由此产生的收入。如果她死后没有孩子,这份财产将转到她的一个亲戚名下,但财产的收入在她丈夫在世的时候将归他所有。如果她有个儿子,所有的财产和收入都归她的儿子。这一点没有任何问题。

“第二,明年3月费尔利小姐21岁的时候,她将得到10,000英镑的收入。如果费尔利小姐在她姑妈埃莉诺之前死去,这笔钱就归她姑妈,这当然不大可能。费尔利小姐的父亲之所以死的时候没有把这10,000英镑留给他的妹妹埃莉诺,是因为他强烈反对她嫁给一个外国人,虽然那个人是位意大利贵族,福斯科伯爵。”

“是的,劳拉跟我说过这件事。”我说。

“好吧,”吉尔摩先生接着说,“这一部分也没有问题。可是第三部分就不那么简单了。明年3月,她还将继承20,000英镑,这完全是属于她个人的一笔钱。如果她先于她丈夫死去,从这20,000英镑获得的收入将属于珀西瓦尔爵士,直至他去世;而这20,000英镑本金将归他们的孩子所有。假如没有孩子继承这笔钱,费尔利小姐死的时候,可以选择亲属或朋友继承。这是我的建议。但是,珀西瓦尔爵士的律师拒不接受这一点,他坚持认为,如果珀西瓦尔爵士死在他妻子后面,同时他们又没有孩子,珀西瓦尔就应该得到这笔钱。那样的话,费尔利家族的任何其他人,包括你在内,都得不到一分钱,哈尔库姆小姐。”

吉尔摩先生长叹了一口气,“我坚决反对这样。我极力争取,但还是无法让那位律师改变主意。我发现珀西瓦尔爵士长期欠债,急需现金。我最后的努力就是来这里试图说服费尔利先生反对珀西瓦尔爵士律师的要求,非常遗憾,我没有成功。对他侄女的这桩婚事费尔利先生什么也不想管。他说他侄女不会死在珀西瓦尔爵士前面的,又有什么可担心的呢?”

吉尔摩先生站起身,拿起帽子准备离开,“我会把协议拟好,并把它寄给你们。我没别的办法,我不这样做,费尔利先生也会再找一名律师这样做的。不过,我跟你说,哈尔库姆小姐,我是不会让我女儿根据我被迫为费尔利小姐准备的这样一份协议嫁人的。”

说完,他握了握我的手,一言不发地离开这里,去赶回伦敦的火车了。

吉尔摩先生走后,我尽量保持理智。费尔利先生是劳拉的监护人,如果他愿意接受这份协议,我做什么都无济于事。这是这桩可怕婚姻的又一个令人担忧的地方。现在更紧迫的事情是结婚日期。我把结婚的日期告诉劳拉以后,她的脸色立刻变白了,身体也开始发抖。

alt

“不要这么快!”她喊道,“噢,玛丽安,不要这么快!”

“好吧,那我去和费尔利先生说,”我这样说着,已经做好了为她去抗争的准备,“我会尽力去改变这个日期。”

“算了吧,”她有气无力地说,“一切都太晚了,玛丽安,太晚了!抗争只能带来更多的麻烦。去告诉我叔叔,我同意了。”

我要不是气愤至极,肯定就会哭出声来。我冲进费尔利先生的房间,大声喊道:“劳拉同意22日结婚!”——然后冲出去,很响地甩上门。但愿我能让他的神经一整天都不得安宁。

*  *  *

这以后,婚礼的准备工作开始了。整天都有裁缝进进出出;要收拾行李,做计划,进行各种安排。我们每天都能收到珀西瓦尔爵士的来信,他提议婚礼之后带劳拉到意大利住六个月,见一些珀西瓦尔的朋友,包括他最好的老朋友福斯科伯爵。福斯科伯爵的妻子当然就是劳拉的姑妈埃莉诺。这桩婚姻起码可以让劳拉和她的姑妈重逢,我这样想着。听起来伯爵本人倒是一个非常有趣的人,我也想有朝一日能见见他。

日子很快地过去了。珀西瓦尔爵士终于来了。他看上去有些疲倦和不安,但是有说有笑的仿佛世界上最幸福的男人就是他。他来的当天晚上去了村子里,打听是否有人知道安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。虽然没人给他提供什么消息,但我必须承认他继续寻求帮助她,这是善举。我决定努力改变对他不好的看法,说到底,我有什么理由不信任他呢?我相信如果真的努力尝试,我可能会喜欢他的。

喜欢他是很容易的。今天我同他说起劳拉与我的最大愿望——在劳拉结婚之后,我和她还能像以前一样住在一起。他立刻就答应了,而且很高兴能有这样的安排。他说我将是他妻子最理想、最合适的陪伴。是啊,我开始非常喜欢珀西瓦尔爵士了。

*  *  *

我恨珀西瓦尔爵士!他不善解人意,缺乏同情心,没有好心肠。昨天晚上,他跟劳拉耳语了些什么——劳拉不愿告诉我具体内容——她的脸色变得非常难看。而他却一点儿没在意。我以前对他所有的怀疑又出现了。现在,他是不是露出了他的本来面目?他变得比以往更加焦躁不安,经常言语尖刻,发脾气。我有个奇怪的想法,是不是会有什么事阻止这桩婚姻,而又非常害怕那样的结局。这是胡思乱想,我不能当真。

我们分别的日子一天天临近了,劳拉一刻也不肯离开我。为了她,我必须勇敢些,高兴起来。但是,我的担心没有消失。这桩婚姻会成为劳拉一生的大错吗?会成为我伤心、痛苦的根源吗?

*  *  *

22日到了。时间到了,不能再哭了。劳拉梳妆打扮完毕,我们要去教堂了。11点钟,婚礼就会结束。下午3点,他们就离开这里了。我已经哭得视线模糊,无法继续写下去了……

5
A document for signature

Six long, lonely months passed, and I had little to do but think of absent friends. I received a cheerful letter from Walter Hartright after he arrived in Honduras, and just before he set off with the expedition into the forest. Since then, I have heard nothing. There was no news of Anne Catherick or Mrs Clements. Poor Mr Gilmore fell very ill and had to give up work, but his business is continued by his partner, Mr Kyrle. Mrs Vesey has moved to London to live with her sister, and Mr Fairlie, I believe, is secretly delighted to have his house free of women.

Most of all, of course, I thought about Laura. Many letters came from her, but she said very little in them. She told me she was well, but hardly mentioned her husband, and wrote not a word about Count Fosco, whom they had met in Austria, not Italy. I understood from her silence that she did not like him. All she said was that her Aunt Eleanor, Madame Fosco, was quieter and more sensible than she had used to be.

*  *  *

On 11th June I arrived at Blackwater Park, Sir Percival's family home in Hampshire. The waiting was nearly over, and how happy I was! The next day Laura and her husband would return home, together with Count Fosco and his wife, who were going to spend the summer at Blackwater.

In the morning the housekeeper, Mrs Michelson, showed me round the house. It is very old, and much of it is dusty and unused; only one part of the enormous building is comfortable enough to live in.

Later I explored the gardens and the park. The gardens are small and not well kept, and there are so many trees that the house feels shut in by them. I found a path through the trees, which after half a mile brought me to a lake. It was a damp, lonely place. The still dark waters of the lake and the long shadows from the tall trees gave it a gloomy air. Near the lake there was an old boat-house with some seats in it, so I went in and sat down for a rest.

I am not a nervous person generally but when I heard the sound of quick breathing under my seat, I jumped to my feet in alarm. In fact, it was a dog — a small black and white dog, with a bullet wound in its side. I carried the poor creature back to the house and sent for Mrs Michelson to help me.

When she came in and saw the dog lying on the floor, she cried out at once, 'Oh! That must be Mrs Catherick's dog!'

'Whose?' I asked, amazed.

'Mrs Catherick's. Do you know her? She came here to ask for news of her daughter.'

'When?'

'Yesterday. She'd heard that her daughter Anne had been seen in the neighbourhood. But no one knew anything. I suppose the dog ran away into the woods and got shot by the park-keeper.'

I tried to make my voice sound politely interested. 'I suppose you've known Mrs Catherick for some years?'

'Oh no, Miss Halcombe, I never saw her before. She lives at Welmingham, twenty-five miles away. I had heard of her, because of Sir Percival paying for her daughter to go to an asylum. But yesterday, Mrs Catherick asked me not to mention her visit to Sir Percival. That was an odd thing to say, wasn't it, Miss?'

Odd, indeed! But then we had to turn our attention to the poor dog, which, despite our efforts, died a little while later. It was a sad thing to happen on my first day at Blackwater.

*  *  *

Later that evening the travellers returned. After my first happiness at meeting Laura, I felt there was a strangeness between us and I realized she had changed. I was sure we would soon get back to normal, but she had lost her innocent openness. She was unwilling to talk about her married life, and I saw that there were no warm feelings between her husband and her. It wasn't long before she asked me about Walter — 'Have you heard from him? Is he well and happy?' — and it was clear to me that she loved him as deeply as ever.

As for Sir Percival, his manners are sharper and less pleasant. On meeting me he simply said, 'Hello, Miss Halcombe. Glad to see you again,' — and then walked past me. Little things seem to annoy him a great deal. For example, the housekeeper told him a man had called to speak to him a week ago but had left no name. Sir Percival demanded a description of the man, which poor Mrs Michelson was unable to give, and Sir Percival stormed out of the room in great anger.

Laura was certainly right about Madame Fosco. Never have I seen such a change in a woman. As Eleanor Fairlie (aged thirty-seven), she wore bright clothes, was silly and foolish, and always talked nonsense. As Madame Fosco (aged forty-three), she wears only grey or black, and sits for hours in silence, doing needlework, rolling up cigarettes for the Count, or just looking at him with the eyes of a loyal dog.

And the man who has achieved this extraordinary change, the man who has tamed this wild Englishwoman? Yes, what can I say about the Count? He looks like a man who could tame anything. If he had married me, I would have made his cigarettes, as his wife does. I would have held my tongue when he looked at me, as she holds hers.

How can I explain the power, the attraction, the force that comes from this man? There are many unlikeable or unattractive things about him. For example, he is enormously fat; he seems to have false hair; he is at least sixty years old. He is lazy, jumps at the slightest sudden sound, and has a peculiar fondness for pet animals. He has brought with him a variety of birds and a whole family of white mice, which he often kisses and calls loving names, just as a child might do.

And yet, and yet... He is fat, but moves lightly and easily, like a dancer. There is a calmness and a strength about his smooth, unlined face, and his voice is persuasive, gentle, hard to resist. His knowledge of the English language is perfect and he is a well-known expert in chemical science. He speaks in baby language to his white mice, but he talks with intelligence and charm about books in every language, and brings to his conversation experience of life in half the capitals of Europe.

But it is his eyes that I shall always remember — his cold, clear, beautiful grey eyes, eyes which held such a frightening power that I shiver even now to think of it.

I could discover very little about his past from Sir Percival. I only learnt that he had not been to Italy for years; I wondered if this was for political reasons. It seemed he had saved Sir Percival from great danger in Rome once and they had been the closest of friends ever since. It was quite clear that Sir Percival was always anxious to please him and would never go against his wishes.

I wonder whether I am afraid of him too. I certainly never saw a man I would be more sorry to have as an enemy.

*  *  *

At lunchtime, a few days after they all returned, a man called Mr Merriman arrived, asking to see Sir Percival urgently. Sir Percival had clearly not expected the visit and looked both alarmed and angry as he left the table.

Neither Laura nor I had any idea who Mr Merriman was, but the Count told us he was Sir Percival's lawyer. I wondered what had happened, as a lawyer does not usually travel from London to Hampshire unless sent for. Mr Merriman must be the bringer of important news — either good or bad.

Count Fosco obviously read my thoughts and said softly to me, 'Yes, Miss Halcombe, something has happened.'

Later in the day I was coming from my room when I saw Sir Percival and his lawyer crossing the hall downstairs. They spoke quietly, but clearly enough for their words to reach my ears.

'Yes, Sir Percival,' I heard the lawyer say, 'it all depends on Lady Glyde.'

I immediately stopped when I heard Laura's name and, although I knew it was wrong, continued to listen.

'You understand, Sir Percival, Lady Glyde must sign her name in the presence of two witnesses. If this is done in a week's time, everything will be all right. If not, I may be able to get them to accept a document promising payment in three months. But how that money is to be obtained by then... '

They went into the library and I heard no more, but it seemed that Sir Percival had a serious debt and that the solution to it depended on Laura. I immediately went to tell Laura what I had heard. She did not seem surprised.

'I was afraid of something like this,' she said, 'when I heard about that strange gentleman who called, without leaving his name. He had probably come to ask for his money. But don't worry, Marian. I won't sign anything that I might later regret.'

In the evening Sir Percival was unusually polite and pleasant to all of us. What did this mean? I thought I could guess — I was afraid Laura could guess — and I was sure Count Fosco knew. I saw Sir Percival looking at him for approval more than once during the evening. The Count was certainly aware of Sir Percival's financial problems.

The next morning Sir Percival asked Count Fosco, Laura, and myself if we would go to the library for a minute after lunch for a small business matter. Before lunch, however, we all went for a walk to the lake, stopping at the boat-house for a rest.

'Some people call the lake pretty,' said Sir Percival, pointing to the view. 'I call it ugly. It looks just the place for a murder, doesn't it? What do you think, Fosco?'

'My dear Percival,' the Count protested, 'the water is too shallow to hide a body. Only a fool would murder someone here. A wise man would choose somewhere else.'

'Wise men do not murder,' said Laura, looking at him with dislike. 'I am sure you cannot give me an example of a wise man who has been a criminal.'

'My dear lady,' said the Count, 'it is impossible to give an example, because a wise man's crime is never found out.'

As he spoke, he was playing with his white mice in their little cage, and suddenly noticed that one of them was missing. A few seconds later he found the little animal under a seat, but also found something which seemed to shock him.

'Percival,' he said, 'come here. Look at this in the sand. Blood!'

Everyone seemed alarmed, so I had to explain about the wounded dog I had found.

'Whose dog was it?' asked Sir Percival.

'The housekeeper said it was Mrs Catherick's dog,' I replied, remembering too late that the visit was meant to be kept secret.

'What the devil was Mrs Catherick doing here?'

This question came with such rudeness and anger that I turned away. Count Fosco laid his hand on Sir Percival's arm.

'My dear Percival! Gently, gently!'

To my great surprise, Sir Percival apologized to me, and Count Fosco then said, 'Why not question the housekeeper, Percival, since she seems to know all about it?'

Sir Percival took the point, and immediately left us to return to the house.

The Count seemed fascinated by Mrs Catherick and wanted to know all about her visit. I tried to say as little as possible, but Laura asked questions too, and in the end the Count knew as much as we did about Mrs Catherick and her daughter Anne. I was quite sure, from his surprise at the story, that the Count had known nothing of Anne Catherick, and uneasily I wondered why Sir Percival had not told his closest friend.

When we went back to the house, Sir Percival came to greet us. 'I am sorry to say I have to leave you. I have to drive a long way and won't be back until tomorrow. First, though, I would like to finish that little business matter. Will you come into the library? It won't take a minute.'

In the library he got a document out of a cupboard and put it on the table. It was folded in such a way that all the writing was hidden and only the places to sign were visible.

Handing a pen to Laura, he said, 'Sign there. You and Fosco are to sign afterwards, Miss Halcombe.'

'What do you want me to sign?' Laura asked quietly.

'I have no time to explain. I have to leave. It's just business,' he said angrily. 'Women don't understand business. Just sign it.'

'But surely I ought to know what I am signing.'

'I see. So you're saying you don't trust me! Is that it? What kind of a wife is that?'

To help Laura, I said, 'I am afraid I cannot be a witness if she doesn't understand what she is signing.'

Sir Percival turned to me furiously. 'How dare you! You're a guest in my house and you take my wife's side against me!'

'Control your unfortunate temper, Percival,' said the Count, and I heard him whisper to him, 'You idiot!'

But Laura had put the pen down and moved to my side.

'Lady Glyde is right,' the Count then said. 'Let the signature wait until tomorrow.'

Sir Percival swore at him, but moved away from the table.

'All right, then,' he said, 'until tomorrow. Anyway, I have to go. But you will sign tomorrow or —' He gave his wife a cold, hard stare, then went out.

As Laura and I moved to the door, the Count approached us. 'You have just seen Sir Percival at his worst,' he said. 'As his old friend, I apologize for him and promise he won't behave like that tomorrow.'

I had begun to realize that I could not hope to remain at Blackwater Park now without the influence and support of the Count, so I answered by thanking him warmly. Then I led Laura out and took her up to my room for a rest.

While we were there, she told me how cruel Sir Percival had been to her since their marriage and how unhappy she was. I tried to calm her and to find a solution to the problem of the signature. Suddenly I had the idea of writing to Mr Gilmore's partner, Mr Kyrle, and asking for his advice. In my letter I also asked him to get a messenger to bring the reply by one o'clock the next day. I then put the letter in the post-bag in the hall. Just at that moment Madame Fosco appeared and asked to speak to me in the garden. She spoke to me for a full half-hour about how much sympathy she had for me. I found this very odd indeed since she had shown very little interest in me before.

When I finally returned, I saw the Count also putting a letter in the post-bag. For some reason I decided to check my letter was properly closed, so I got it out of the bag. This was lucky, as I found the envelope had come open. How strange, I thought. Perhaps there had been something wrong with it...

Or perhaps...

No! There could be no other explanation.


absent adj. not present 不在场的

free of not containing or subject to 没有

enormous adj. very large, huge 非常大的

gloomy adj. dismal, depressing 阴暗的;阴郁的

creature n. an animal 动物

neighbourhood n. the surrounding area 附近

odd adj. extraordinary, strange 反常的;奇怪的

storm v. move violently or angrily 气愤地走

tame v. make tame 驯服

hold one's tongue be silent 不说话

enormously adv. very, quite 非常

frightening adj. terrifying 使人害怕的

go against be contrary to 反对

urgently adv. requiring immediate action or attention 急迫地

obtain v. acquire, secure 得到;获得

library n. a room containing a collection of books 书房

aware adj. conscious or having knowledge 清楚;知道

murder n. killing unlawfully with a premeditated motive 谋杀

rudeness n. being impolite or offensive 无礼

fascinated adj. showing great interest in 非常感兴趣的

fold v. bend or close something over upon itself 折叠

furiously adv. extremely angry 极度气愤地

swear v. use indecent language 骂人

stare n. a staring gaze

messenger n. a person who carries a message 信使

properly adv. fittingly; suitably 适当地

5.需要签字的文件

漫长、孤寂的六个月过去了。除去思念不在身边的朋友们,我无所事事。我收到一封沃尔特·哈特里特的来信,是他到达洪都拉斯,进入林地之前写的。从那以后,他就没有了任何消息。安妮·凯瑟里克和克莱门茨太太没有任何音信。可怜的吉尔摩先生病得很厉害,不得不停止工作。他的工作由他的合伙人克尔先生代理。维西太太搬到了伦敦,和她妹妹住在一起。我想费尔利先生一定暗自高兴这庄园里没有了女人。

我最思念的当然是劳拉。她来过许多信,但是内容都非常简单。她说她挺好的,却只字不提她丈夫,也不提福斯科伯爵。他们是在奥地利相见的,而不是在意大利。从她的沉默我看得出,她不喜欢他。她只是说到埃莉诺姑妈,就是福斯科夫人,比以前话少了,也更理智了。

*  *  *

6月11日,我来到布莱克沃特庄园,珀西瓦尔爵士在汉普郡的家。等待终于快结束了,我异常兴奋。第二天,劳拉同她丈夫就要回来了,一同来的还有福斯科伯爵夫妇,他们要在布莱克沃特度过这个夏天。

早上,管家米切尔森太太领我参观了房子。这是一幢很古老的房子,多处是厚厚的尘土,没有人住。偌大的房子只有一部分还比较舒适,可以住人。

之后,我去看了看花园和园林。花园很小,维护得也不好。这周围树木非常多,遮蔽了房子。我发现了树林中的一条小路,沿着小路走了半英里之后是一个湖。这是一个潮湿僻静的地方。平静漆黑的湖水和长长的树影使这里笼上了一层阴暗、凄凉的色彩。湖的附近有一个破旧的船屋,里面有几个座位,我走进去坐下休息。

我并不是一个胆小的人,但是听见座位底下传来急促的喘息声,我还是惊得一下子跳了起来。其实,那是只狗——一只黑白相间的小狗,身子的一侧有子弹的伤痕。我把可怜的小东西带回房子里,叫来米切尔森太太帮我。

米切尔森太太进来看见地上躺着的小狗,马上大声说:“噢,这一定是凯瑟里克太太的狗!”

“是谁的狗?”我非常吃惊地问。

“凯瑟里克太太的。你认识她吗?她来这里打听过她女儿的消息。”

“什么时候?”

“就是昨天。她听说有人在附近看见过她女儿安妮。可是没人知道这件事。我想这条狗可能跑到树林里去,让看林人给打了。”

我尽量让自己听起来不是过分好奇,“你是不是认识凯瑟里克太太好多年了?”

“噢,也不是,哈尔库姆小姐。我以前没见过她。她住在离这里25英里远的韦明翰。我听说过她,因为珀西瓦尔爵士出钱送她女儿去精神病院。但是昨天,凯瑟里克太太让我别跟珀西瓦尔爵士讲她来过的事。这有点儿怪,是吧,小姐?”

奇怪,的确奇怪!但是,我们得把注意力集中到那只小狗身上,虽然我们尽力挽救,没过多久它还是死了。我第一天到布莱克沃特就发生了一件令人伤心的事。

*  *  *

当天晚上,旅行者们都回来了。我见到劳拉的高兴劲儿刚过,就觉得我们之间有一种奇怪的感觉,我意识到她变了。我相信,我们之间很快就会像从前一样。但是她好像失去了原来的纯真和坦诚。她不愿谈自己的婚后生活,而且我发现她同她丈夫之间毫无亲密可言。她很快就向我问起沃尔特:“你收到他的信了吗?他好吗?”显而易见,她还在深深地爱着他。

至于珀西瓦尔爵士,他的脾气变得越发暴躁,越发不讨人喜欢。见到我,他只是简单地说了声“你好,哈尔库姆小姐。很高兴又见到你。”然后就从我身边走过去了。一点点小事也会让他大为恼火。举个例子,米切尔森太太告诉他一个星期前有个男人来找他,但没有留下姓名。珀西瓦尔爵士问那人什么模样,可怜的米切尔森太太说不上来,于是珀西瓦尔爵士勃然大怒,气急败坏地走出房间。

关于福斯科夫人,劳拉说得很对。我从未见过哪个女人身上会发生如此大的变化。她是埃莉诺·费尔利小姐的时候(当时她37岁),经常穿鲜亮的衣服,说傻话,做傻事。她成了福斯科夫人以后(现在她43岁),只穿灰色和黑色的衣服,而且经常几个小时坐在那里一声不吭地做针线,给伯爵卷烟或者像一条忠诚的狗一样望着伯爵。

那么,那个导致了如此变化,驯服了这么一个桀骜不驯的英国女人的男人呢?对,我该怎么描述伯爵呢?他好像可以驯服一切。假如他娶了,我也会像他妻子一样给他卷烟,我也会像她一样被他看一眼就闭上嘴。

我应该怎么解释这个男人的魔力、魅力和影响呢?其实,他身上有许多不招人喜欢的地方。比方说,他体形肥胖,似乎还戴假发,而且少说也有60岁了。他人很懒,听到任何一点儿响动都会跳起来,还特别爱养宠物。他带来各种各样的鸟和一大窝白鼠。他就像小孩子一样,时常亲吻这些宠物,用昵称叫它们。

可是,可是……他身体肥胖,但动作像舞蹈演员一样轻巧灵便。他的脸很光滑,没有皱纹;表情沉稳庄重。他的声音很柔和,有一种难以抵挡的魅力。他精通英语,还是个化学家。他用儿语对白鼠讲话,但是谈到用任何语言写作的书籍,他都睿智机敏,滔滔不绝。他到过一半欧洲国家的首都。他经常谈起在那些城市的经历。

但让我铭记在心的是他的眼睛——一双冷酷、明亮、好看的灰眼睛。他的眼睛有一种慑人的威力,我现在想起来还会打哆嗦。

关于他的过去,我从珀西瓦尔爵士那儿知道的很少。我只知道他很多年没回意大利了,不知道是不是由于政治原因。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士在罗马遇到大难,伯爵帮助他脱离了危险。从那以后,他们成了密友。很明显,珀西瓦尔爵士总是力图讨好伯爵,从不跟他对着干。

我不知道自己是不是也害怕他。但是,他是我所见过的人中我最不愿与之成为敌人的。

*  *  *

他们旅行回来几天后,吃午饭的时候,一个叫梅里曼的人来了,要求马上见珀西瓦尔爵士。看得出,珀西瓦尔没想到这个人会来,他起身出去的时候显得既吃惊又生气。

劳拉和我都不知道梅里曼先生是何许人。伯爵告诉我们他是珀西瓦尔爵士的律师。我不知道出了什么事,因为除了被唤而来,律师是不会从伦敦到汉普郡来的。梅里曼先生一定带来了什么重要消息——不管是好消息还是坏消息。

福斯科伯爵显然看出了我的心事,轻声对我说:“没错,哈尔库姆小姐,确实出事了。”

后来,我从房里出来,看见珀西瓦尔爵士和律师正穿过楼下的大厅。他们说话的声音很低,但还是清晰地传进我的耳朵里。

“是的,珀西瓦尔爵士,”我听见律师说,“一切都取决于格莱德夫人了。”

听到劳拉的名字,我马上停住了脚步。我知道这样做不好,但还是接着往下听。

“你知道,珀西瓦尔爵士,格莱德夫人必须在两个证人在场的情况下签字,只要这件事在一星期之内办妥,一切都好说。如果不行,我可以准备一份文件,向他们保证三个月后付款。可是,三个月后怎么能弄到钱呢……?”

他们走进书房,下面的话我听不见了。好像珀西瓦尔爵士欠了一大笔债,而还债就取决于劳拉。我立即把刚刚听到的消息告诉了劳拉,她看上去一点儿也不惊讶。

“我料到会出这种事,”劳拉说,“在我听说来了一位没有留下姓名的陌生人时,我就料到了。那人很可能是来要钱的。不过别怕,玛丽安,任何今后我可能后悔的文件,我都不会签的。”

那天晚上,珀西瓦尔爵士对我们大家异乎寻常地客气。这说明什么呢?我想我能猜出来——劳拉也能猜出来——而且我敢肯定福斯科伯爵清楚其中的奥秘。我注意到珀西瓦尔有好几次都用眼神征求伯爵的意见。伯爵肯定清楚珀西瓦尔爵士的经济困境。

第二天早上,珀西瓦尔爵士让福斯科伯爵、劳拉还有我午饭后到书房来一下,谈一点事情。午饭前我们一同散步来到了湖边,在船屋里歇脚。

“有人说这湖很美,”珀西瓦尔爵士指着周围的景色说,“我觉得它很丑,像个发生凶案的地方,不是吗?你觉得呢,福斯科?”

“我亲爱的珀西瓦尔,”伯爵反对道,“这里的水太浅了,根本藏不住尸体,只有傻子才在这里谋杀。聪明人会选择别的地方。”

“聪明人不会去杀人的,”劳拉一面说着,一面不高兴地看着伯爵,“我相信你找不出一个聪明人犯罪的例子。”

“亲爱的夫人,”伯爵说,“我可找不出例子,因为聪明人犯罪不会让人知道。”

伯爵一边说着,一边摆弄着小笼子里的白鼠。他突然发现少了一只,但很快在一个座位底下找到了它,同时还发现了让他大吃一惊的东西。

“珀西瓦尔,快过来。你看这沙子,上面有血!”他说。

大家都很吃惊,我不得不告诉他们我发现那只受伤的狗的事情。

“谁的狗?”珀西瓦尔爵士问。

“管家说是凯瑟里克太太的。”我回答,忽然想起来这应该是秘密,可是太晚了。

“凯瑟里克太太到这儿来干什么?”

珀西瓦尔问得既气愤又无礼,我转过身去。福斯科伯爵拍了拍珀西瓦尔的胳膊。

“亲爱的珀西瓦尔!别着急,别着急!”

出乎我的意料,珀西瓦尔给我道了歉。伯爵接着说:“为什么不问问管家呢,珀西瓦尔?她好像知道事情的来龙去脉。”

珀西瓦尔爵士接受了这个建议,马上告辞回了庄园。

伯爵似乎对凯瑟里克太太非常感兴趣,想了解她那次来的所有情况。我尽量少透露信息,可是劳拉也问这问那。最后,我们知道的关于凯瑟里克太太以及她女儿安妮的情况,伯爵全都知道了。从伯爵惊讶的表情我可以断定,在这之前他对安妮·凯瑟里克一无所知。我很纳闷,为什么珀西瓦尔爵士不告诉他的好朋友这些事。

我们回到庄园,珀西瓦尔爵士过来同我们打招呼,“很抱歉,我得跟大家告辞。我要赶很长一段路,明天才能回来。不过,我想走之前了结那件小事。到书房来好吗?一会儿就好。”

来到书房,他从柜子里取出一份文件放到桌子上。文件是叠起来的,文字部分都遮住了,只能看见签字的部分。

他把一支笔递给劳拉,说:“在这儿签字吧。哈尔库姆小姐,你和福斯科等会儿再签。”

alt

“你要我签的是什么文件?”劳拉平静地问。

“我没时间解释,我得走了,就是一份公文,”珀西瓦尔很不高兴地说,“你们女人不懂,你就签字吧。”

“我当然有理由知道我签的是什么。”

“我明白了,你的意思是你不信任我!对吗?这叫什么妻子?”

我站在劳拉一边,说:“如果她不知道签的是什么,那我恐怕无法做证人。”

珀西瓦尔爵士愤怒地转向我,“你好大的胆子!你是我的客人,可却站在我妻子一边同我作对!”

“控制一下你的臭脾气,珀西瓦尔,”伯爵说,我听他对珀西瓦尔耳语:“你这笨蛋!”

劳拉放下笔,走到我身旁。

“格莱德夫人说的对,”伯爵说,“签字的事明天再说吧。”

珀西瓦尔爵士朝他破口大骂,但还是走开了。

“那好吧,”珀西瓦尔说,“那就等明天。不管怎样,我现在得走了。但是,你明天必须签字,否则——”他恶狠狠地瞪了他妻子一眼,然后走出了房间。

劳拉和我往外走的时候,伯爵走了过来。“你们刚才看到了珀西瓦尔爵士脾气最差的样子,”他说,“作为他的老朋友,我替他道歉。我保证他明天不会这样了。”

我开始明白,现在要是没有伯爵的帮助,我是不大可能接续呆在布莱克沃特庄园的。我真心地感谢了他。然后,我拉着劳拉上楼,到我的房间休息一会儿。

在我的房间里,劳拉告诉我结婚后珀西瓦尔爵士对待她多么冷酷,她多么不开心。我努力安慰她,帮她想办法解决签字的问题。忽然,我想到了给吉尔摩先生的合伙人克尔先生写信,问问他的意见。我在信里叫他派一个信使第二天1点之前把回信带过来。写完后,我把信放到了大厅的邮袋里。就在这时,福斯科夫人走过来,约我到花园里谈谈。她跟我足足说了半个小时她有多么同情我。我觉得非常奇怪,因为她以前根本就不在意我。

我回到屋里,看到福斯科伯爵也在往邮袋里放信。不知出于什么原因,我决定查看一下我的信是不是封好了。于是,我把我的那封信拿了出来。我还真做对了,我发现信封是开着的。好奇怪呀,我心里想。也许有人在捣鬼……

也许……

没错!不会是别的原因。

6
An appointment by the lake

After dinner that evening, Laura and I went for a walk down to the lake. The atmosphere was gloomy and depressing, but at least we were alone.

'I want to have no secrets from you, Marian,' Laura said, 'but I'm sure you have already guessed what my married life is like. Sir Percival said such cruel things to me in Italy that I turned for comfort to my memories of those happy days with Walter Hartright. And I have to tell you, Marian, Sir Percival now knows that Walter is the man I loved.'

I stared at her, and what little hope I had left began to die.

'It was at a party in Rome. Some people from London said I should have drawing lessons and recommended a Mr Hartright. I could not control myself when I heard his name and my husband noticed. "So it was him, was it?" he said, with a horrible smile. "Well, we will see about Mr Hartright. You will be sorry, and so will he, to the end of your lives." And Marian, he uses this knowledge like a whip to punish me, day in, day out.'

'Oh, Laura!' I said, putting my arms around her. This was my fault — yes, my fault! I remembered the white despair of Walter's face as I told him to leave, as I tore these two young hearts apart. And I had done this for Sir Percival Glyde.

For Sir Percival Glyde.

*  *  *

It was growing dark when we set out for home, and as we left Laura seized my arm. 'Marian, look!'

By the lake was a dark figure, half hidden by the evening mist rising off the water. We began to walk quickly.

'I'm sure it's following us,' whispered Laura. 'Is it a man or a woman?' She was shaking with fear.

'It's hard to tell in this light,' I said, then called out, 'Who's there?' There was no answer.

We hurried back through the wood, and when we reached home, I sent Laura upstairs and went to find out where everyone was. The Count and his wife, the servants, the housekeeper — all were inside. The figure by the lake was no one from the house. So who could it have been?

The next day Laura discovered she had lost her bracelet and thought she must have dropped it near the lake. She went off to look for it while I waited for the messenger from Mr Kyrle.

One o'clock came. By now I was so suspicious of everyone in the house that I decided to slip out and meet the messenger myself. Taking great care not to be seen, I went down to the main gate and a little way along the road. Soon a cab appeared. I stopped it and said, 'Are you going to Blackwater Park?'

A man put his head out and said, 'Yes, with a letter for Miss Halcombe.'

'You may give the letter to me,' I said. 'I am Miss Halcombe.'

I read the letter quickly.


Dear Miss Halcombe — Your letter has caused me great anxiety. It seems very likely that Lady Glyde's signature is needed so that a Loan of all or part of her £20,000 can be made to Sir Percival. This is almost certainly illegal, and Lady Glyde should not sign any document until I have examined it first.

Sincerely, William Kyrle.


I read this very thankfully and told the messenger to say that I understood the letter. As I spoke these words, Count Fosco came round the corner and suddenly appeared in front of me. Completely taken by surprise, I stared at him speechlessly. The messenger drove away in his cab, and the Count took my arm to walk home with me.

He talked pleasantly of this and that, and asked no questions about letters or messengers, so I assumed he had found out everything. He must have read my letter, returned it to the post-bag, and now knew that I had received an answer. There was no point in trying to deceive him so I said nothing, and just tried to seem quite cool and calm.

Back at the house we found that Sir Percival had returned, in an even worse mood than before, it seemed. When I told him Laura was out looking for her bracelet, he growled,

'Bracelet or no bracelet, I shall expect to see her in the library in half an hour.'

I turned to go into the house, but behind me heard the Count saying to Sir Percival, 'May I have five minutes' talk with you, here on the grass?'

They walked off together and I went inside to the sitting room, to think over all that had happened. Before long, however, the door opened softly and the Count looked in.

'Good news, Miss Halcombe,' he said. 'The business of the signature is put off for the moment. I'm sure you are relieved.'

He went out before I had recovered from my amazement. There could be no doubt that this change was due to his influence. His discovery of my writing to London and receiving an answer had caused him to interfere. Now there was even more to think about but, exhausted by worry and the heat of the day, my eyes closed and I fell into a little sleep.

I woke to find Laura's hand on my shoulder.

'Marian! The figure at the lake. I've just spoken to her! It's Anne Catherick. Look, she found my bracelet.'

Still half asleep, I stared at her stupidly. 'Anne Catherick?'

'Yes! I was searching in the boat-house,' Laura went on, 'when a woman in a white dress came in and said quietly, "Miss Fairlie. I have your bracelet. Your mother would not want you to lose it. "I jumped up, but her voice was so kind that I wasn't afraid. I asked her how she knew my mother. She said her name was Anne Catherick and asked me if I remembered as a little girl walking with her and my mother to the school in Limmeridge one day. I did remember. Suddenly I saw that we were like each other, but her face was pale and thin and tired. It was how my face might look after a long illness. "Why do you call me Miss Fairlie?" I asked, and she answered, "Because I love the name of Fairlie and hate the name of Glyde."'

'Did she say anything about your husband?' I asked.

'She said that after she wrote the letter, she did not have the courage to stay in Limmeridge to try to prevent my marriage to him. She was afraid he would find her and shut her up in the asylum again. But she was not afraid any more because she was so ill she thought she was dying. Then, Marian, she said that she and her mother knew a secret that my husband was afraid of.'

'Yes? Go on!' I said eagerly. 'What secret?'

'She was just going to tell me, when she thought she heard a noise outside. "We are not alone," she said, "someone is watching. Come here tomorrow at this time and I will tell you." Then she pushed me to one side and disappeared.'

'Oh, Laura, Laura, another chance lost! But you must keep the appointment tomorrow. It seems so important. I will follow you at a safe distance. She must not escape this time.'

We were silent for a time. Then Laura said anxiously, 'Why hasn't Sir Percival called us to the library to sign the document?'

'Oh yes! I forgot to tell you,' I said. 'Thanks to Count Fosco, the business of the signature has been postponed.'

'But why?' Laura said, amazed. 'If Sir Percival urgently needs money, how can it be postponed?'

'I heard Sir Percival's lawyer mention a second plan — to give a document promising payment in three months.'

'Oh, Marian!' she said. 'That would be such a relief.'

'Yes, it would. Let's hope that it's true.'

That evening Sir Percival was polite, even pleasant, especially to Laura. This must have been due to the Count's influence, and it worried me. What lay behind it? I was sure that Sir Percival's sudden journey yesterday had been to Welmingham, to question Mrs Catherick. What had he learnt? What were his plans? As the evening passed, I grew more and more uneasy, and I went to bed feeling very anxious about what the next day would bring.

*  *  *

I was not wrong to be anxious. The next day Laura and I arranged that after lunch she would go alone to the boat-house, and that I would follow a little later, taking great care that Anne Catherick did not see me, in case she was frightened by the appearance of another stranger.

Sir Percival had gone out earlier in the morning and did not appear even for lunch, so it was quite easy to put our plan into action. However, when I came quietly up to the back of the boat-house, I heard no voices, no sounds of movement, nothing. Soon I was searching inside the boat-house, and softly calling Laura's name. But no one answered and no one appeared. Outside, I searched the ground for signs, and found the footprints of two people in the sand — big footprints like a man's and small footprints, which I was sure were Laura's. There was also a little hole in the sand by the wall of the boat-house.

Desperate with worry, I hurried back to the house. The first person I met was Mrs Michelson, the housekeeper.

'Do you know,' I asked, 'whether Lady Glyde has come in?'

'Yes, she has, Miss Halcombe. And I am afraid something unfortunate has happened. Lady Glyde ran upstairs in tears and Sir Percival has told me to dismiss her servant, Fanny.'

My heart sank. Fanny was Laura's personal servant from Limmeridge, and the only person in the house we both trusted.

I ran upstairs to Laura's room. Her door was shut, and there was one of Sir Percival's house servants standing in front of it.

'Move away,' I said. 'Don't you see that I want to go in?'

'But you mustn't go in,' she answered. 'I have my orders.'

Wild with anger, I turned and went downstairs to find Sir Percival. He was in the library with the Count and Countess.

'Am I to understand that your wife's room is a prison?' I asked, staring him full in the face.

'Yes, that is what you are to understand,' he answered.

'Take care how you treat your wife!' I shouted furiously. 'There are laws to protect women, and I will use those laws.'

Instead of answering me, he turned to the Count. The Count looked at me with his calm, cold, grey eyes. But it was the Countess who spoke.

'Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Percival,' she said suddenly. 'But I cannot remain in a house where ladies are treated as your wife and Miss Halcombe have been treated today!'

Sir Percival stared at her in shocked silence, knowing, as I did, she would not have said this without the Count's permission.

'I agree with my wife,' the Count said quietly.

Sir Percival swore, then whispered angrily, 'All right, have your own way.' With these words he left the room.

'We have made the worst-tempered man in England see reason,' said the Count. 'Thanks to your courage, Miss Halcombe, this insulting situation is now ended.'

I tried to speak normally, but could not. The Count left the library, then returned a few minutes later to say that Lady Glyde had the freedom of her own house again. Immediately I rushed upstairs to Laura's room. She was alone inside and I was in such a hurry that I did not close the door properly behind me.

'Marian!' she said thankfully. 'How did you get here?'

'It was the Count's influence, of course,' I said.

'That horrible man!' she cried. 'He's a miserable spy!'

Just then we heard a knock on the door. It was the Countess, bringing me a handkerchief I had dropped. Her face was white, and I saw in her eyes that she had been listening at the door.

'Oh, Laura,' I said when she had gone, 'you shouldn't have called the Count a spy. We shall both regret it.'

'But he is a spy, Marian! There was someone watching me at the lake yesterday, and it was him. He told Sir Percival, who watched and waited all morning for me and Anne Catherick. But she didn't come — I found a note from her hidden in a hole in the sand. She said she'd been followed yesterday by a fat old man. He hadn't caught her, but she was afraid to come back this afternoon. She hid this note very early in the morning, and said she would see me again soon to tell me Sir Percival's secret.'

'What happened to the note?' I said. 'Have you got it?'

'No. While I was reading it, Sir Percival appeared. He took it from me and demanded to hear everything Anne Catherick had said. He held my arm so tightly! — look, see how he's bruised it. What could I do, Marian? I was helpless! I told him everything.'

I looked at the bruises on Laura's arm, and felt such furious hatred for Sir Percival that I dared not speak.

'But he didn't believe me,' Laura went on. 'He said he knew she had told me more and that he would lock me up until I had confessed the truth. Then he took me back to the house, gave orders for Fanny to leave, and locked me in my room. Oh, Marian, he was like a madman! What are we to do?'

'He is mad — mad with fear. He thinks you know his secret,' I said. 'I must act now to protect you — who knows how long I will be allowed to stay here?' I thought hard for a few minutes. 'I will write two letters and give them to Fanny to take with her. I can't trust the post-bag here any more. One for Mr Kyrle, telling him of your bruises and Sir Percival's violent behaviour.'

'And who is the other letter for?' asked Laura anxiously.

'For Mr Fairlie,' I said. 'Your lazy, selfish uncle. I'll make him invite you for a visit to Limmeridge, without your husband.'

I left her then and went to my room to write the letters. Fanny had already gone and was staying the night in the little hotel in the village, before beginning the long journey to Cumberland the next day. I decided I had time before dinner to walk to the village and back, so I slipped quietly out of the house and set off.

From time to time I looked behind me. Was I being followed? Or was my imagination playing tricks on me? By now I was suspicious of everything — every tiny sound, every shadow on the road, every breath of wind. Earlier, while writing the letters, I thought I had heard the rustle of a silk dress outside my door. I had even wondered if someone had been in my room, looking through the things in my desk. I hurried on, trying to put these thoughts out of my mind.

When I got to the little hotel, I saw Fanny in her room. She was very upset at leaving Laura, and started crying, but stopped when I told her that Lady Glyde and I needed her help.

'Here are two letters,' I said. 'Post the one addressed to Mr Kyrle in London tomorrow, and deliver the other to Mr Fairlie yourself when you get home to Limmeridge. Keep them safe!'

Fanny put the letters down the front of her dress. 'They'll stay there, miss,' she said, 'till I've done what you tell me.'


day in, day out one day after another 一天又一天地

seize v. take hold of forcibly or suddenly 紧紧抓住

illegal adj. contrary to law 不合法的

assume v. take or accept as being true, without proof 推想

growl v. murmur angrily 咕哝

put off postpone 推迟

exhaust v. use up the strength or resources of a person 筋疲力尽

postpone v. put off 推迟

footprint n. the impression left by a foot or shoe 脚印;鞋印

dismiss v. discharge from employment 辞退

hospitality n. the friendly and generous reception or entertainment of guests or strangers 热情款待

insulting adj. offending one self-respect or modesty 侮辱性的

bruise v. inflict a bruise on 使受淤伤

selfish adj. deficient in consideration for others 自私的

breath n. slight movement of air 轻风

6.湖畔之约

那天晚饭后,劳拉和我散步来到湖边。周围的环境昏暗而压抑,但至少我们可以单独在一起。

“我不愿对你有任何秘密,玛丽安,”劳拉开口说,“但是,我相信你已经猜到我婚后的生活是什么样子。在意大利,珀西瓦尔爵士跟我说了很多恶毒的话,我只能借助回忆同沃尔特·哈特里特在一起的幸福时光来寻求安慰。我得告诉你,玛丽安,珀西瓦尔爵士现在已经知道沃尔特是我所爱的人了。”

我的眼睛紧盯着她,心中仅存的一线希望也开始泯灭了。

“那是在罗马的一次聚会上,几个从伦敦来的朋友说我应该学学绘画,并向我推荐哈特里特先生。听到他的名字,我无法控制自己的感情,这些被我丈夫看到了。‘就是他,对吗?’他狞笑着问我,‘哈特里特先生的事我们走着瞧。你和他都会后悔一辈子的。’玛丽安,他抓住这件事一天又一天地折磨我。”

“噢,劳拉!”我搂住她。这都是我的错——是的,是我的错!我还记得我告诉沃尔特必须离开的时候,他脸上那惨淡绝望的表情。是我把两颗相爱的心拆开了。我这样做却成全了珀西瓦尔爵士。

成全了珀西瓦尔爵士。

*  *  *

天黑了下来,我们开始往回走。劳拉突然抓住我的胳膊,“玛丽安,你看!”

湖边有一个黑影,傍晚水面上升起的雾气遮住了我们的视线。我们开始加快脚步。

“我敢肯定有人跟踪我们,”劳拉低声说,“是男的还是女的?”她害怕得浑身发抖。

“在这样的光线里看不清,”我回答,然后大声喊道,“谁在那儿?”没有反应。

我们很快地穿过树林,回到家里。我把劳拉送上楼,然后就去查看家里的其他人都在哪儿。伯爵夫妇,仆人,管家——所有的人都在。湖边那个人影不是家里的人,那会是谁呢?

第二天,劳拉发现手镯丢了,她认为一定是丢在湖边了。她出去找手镯,我留在家里等克尔先生的信使。

1点到了。现在,我对家里的每个人都有怀疑,所以决定溜出去自己迎接信使。我尽量不让别人看见,独自来到大门口,又朝前走了一段。不一会儿,一辆马车过来了。我拦住车,问:“是去布莱克沃特庄园吗?”

一个男人探出头说:“是的,给哈尔库姆小姐送信。”

“把信给我吧,”我说,“我就是哈尔库姆小姐。”

我迫不及待地读了来信。

亲爱的哈尔库姆小姐,你的来信令我深感不安。情况很可能是只要有格莱德夫人的签字,珀西瓦尔爵士就可以借走她的20,000英镑或其中一部分,几乎可以肯定这是不合法的。任何我没有仔细看过的文件,格莱德夫人都不要签字。

此致,威廉·克尔

我满怀感激地读完信,告诉信使我明白了信的意思。正说着,福斯科伯爵突然从拐角那边走了出来,出现在我的面前。我没有任何思想准备,两眼盯着他,一句话也说不出来。信使赶车离开了,伯爵挽着我的手臂往回走。

路上,他兴致勃勃地说这说那,没有问任何关于信和信使的事,我想他已经什么都知道了。他肯定偷看了我的信,然后又放回到邮袋里,现在也知道我收到了回信。没有必要再瞒他什么,所以我什么话也不说,尽量表现得镇定。

回到庄园,我们发现珀西瓦尔爵士已经回来了,看上去情绪更加糟糕。我告诉他劳拉出去找手镯了,他生气地咕哝道:

“什么手镯不手镯的,我半小时后必须在书房见她。”

我转身朝屋里走,但听见身后伯爵对珀西瓦尔说:“我可以跟你在草坪上谈5分钟吗?”

他们俩一起走开了,我走进客厅,思考着刚发生的一切。不一会儿,门轻轻地开了,福斯科伯爵出现在门口。

“好消息,哈尔库姆小姐,”他说,“签字的事推迟了,我想你一定放心了吧。”

我还没来得及从惊讶中回过神来,他就出去了。毫无疑问,是他施加了影响才有现在的变化。他发现我给伦敦写信并且收到了回信,于是他开始干预。还有很多事需要考虑,但我实在累极了,再加上天热,我睁不开眼睛,就这么睡着了。

醒来后,我发现劳拉的一只手搭在我的肩上。

“玛丽安!湖边那个人影。我刚跟她谈过了!她是安妮·凯瑟里克。瞧,她找到了我的手镯。”

我还在半梦半醒之间,迷迷糊糊地看着她问:“安妮·凯瑟里克?”

“是的!我正在船屋里找手镯,”劳拉接着说,“一个穿白衣服的女人进来,轻声说:‘费尔利小姐,你的手镯在我这儿。你的母亲一定不希望你把它弄丢了。’我一下子跳了起来,但她的声音非常友善,我很快就不害怕了。我问她怎么认识我母亲。她告诉我她叫安妮·凯瑟里克,问我记不记得小时候有一天同她还有母亲一道去利默里奇的学校。我确实记得。我突然发现我们俩长得很相像,只是她的脸看上去苍白、消瘦、疲惫。我久病之后可能就是那个样子。‘你为什么叫我费尔利小姐?’我问她。她回答说:‘因为我喜欢费尔利这个姓,憎恨格莱德这个姓。’”

“她提到你丈夫了吗?”我问。

“她说她写完那封信以后,没有勇气再呆在利默里奇阻止我和他结婚。她害怕他找到她,再把她关进精神病院。但是现在她不怕了,因为她现在病得很厉害,就要死了。然后,玛丽安,她说她和她母亲知道一个令我丈夫非常害怕的秘密。”

“什么秘密?快说啊!”我急切地问,“什么秘密?”

“她刚要告诉我,就听见外面有响动。‘有人,’她说,‘有人在盯着我们。明天这个时间到这儿来,我再告诉你。’说完,她就推开我走了。”

“噢,劳拉,劳拉,又一个机会跑掉了!你明天一定要去,那个秘密一定非常重要。我跟你去,躲在远处不让她看见。这次可不能叫她再跑了。”

我们沉默了一会儿。然后,劳拉不安地问:“珀西瓦尔爵士怎么还没来叫我们去书房签字呢?”

“对了,我刚才忘了告诉你,”我说,“多亏了福斯科伯爵,签字的事推迟了。”

“为什么?”劳拉惊疑地问,“珀西瓦尔爵士那么急需钱,怎么会推迟呢?”

“我听珀西瓦尔爵士的律师提过另一个计划,要做一份保证三个月后还钱的文件。”

“噢,玛丽安!”她说,“那可太好了。”

“是很好,但愿这是真的。”

那天晚上,珀西瓦尔爵士对大家,尤其对劳拉,非常有礼貌,甚至可以说是非常好。这一定是伯爵的功劳,我对此很担心。这背后到底隐藏着什么?我想珀西瓦尔爵士昨天突然离开,肯定是去韦明翰找凯瑟里克太太了。他得到什么消息没有?他下一步想干什么?一个晚上,我越来越放心不下。睡觉时我对明天将要发生的事情异常担心。

*  *  *

我的担心没有错。第二天,劳拉和我商量好,午饭后她先一个人到船屋去,过一会儿我再去,尽量不让安妮·凯瑟里克看见我,以免她被我这个陌生人吓跑。

上午,珀西瓦尔爵士比往常出去得更早,连午饭也没来吃,因此我们实施计划也更容易一些。然而,我蹑手蹑脚来到船屋后面的时候,却听不到一点儿动静。我进去寻找,轻声叫着劳拉的名字。可是没有人回答,也没有人影。我来到屋外,仔细察看地面,发现沙地上有两个人的脚印——大一些的像是男人的,小一些的我敢肯定是劳拉的。船屋墙边的沙地上还有一个小坑。

我担心极了,赶忙回到庄园。我见到的第一个人是管家米切尔森太太。

“你知道格莱德夫人回来了吗?”我问。

“是的,她回来了,哈尔库姆小姐。可能出了什么不幸的事。格莱德夫人哭着跑上了楼,珀西瓦尔爵士叫我把她的仆人范妮辞退了。”

我的心一下子沉了下来。范妮是劳拉从利默里奇带来的贴身仆人,也是我们两人在这里唯一信任的人。

我跑上楼,来到劳拉的房门口。房门紧闭,珀西瓦尔的一个仆人站在门口。

“让开,”我大声说,“你没看见我要进去吗?”

“你不能进去,”仆人说,“我得听主人的吩咐。”

我肺都要气炸了,转身下楼去找珀西瓦尔爵士。他和伯爵夫妇正在书房。

“你妻子的房间是监狱吗?”我眼睛直盯着他问道。

“是的,你应该明白这点。”他回答。

“请注意你是如何对待你妻子的!”我愤怒地嚷着。“妇女受法律的保护,我会告你的。”

珀西瓦尔爵士没有接我的话,而是转向了伯爵。伯爵用他那平静、冷漠的灰眼睛看着我。但开口的是伯爵夫人。

“谢谢你的热情款待,珀西瓦尔爵士,”她突然说道。“但是,今天你的妻子和哈尔库姆小姐在这里受到如此的对待,我是不能再呆下去了!”

珀西瓦尔爵士目瞪口呆地盯着伯爵夫人,他跟我一样心里明白,没有伯爵的准许,她是不会说这番话的。

“我同意我妻子的话。”伯爵不紧不慢地说。

珀西瓦尔骂了一句,然后气哼哼地低声说:“好吧,你们要怎样就怎样吧。”说完,他走了出去。

“我们让英国脾气最坏的人明白道理了,”伯爵说,“多亏你的勇气,哈尔库姆小姐,这个令人难堪的局面终于结束了。”

我试图以正常的方式讲话,可是却做不到。伯爵走出了书房,几分钟后回来说,格莱德夫人在她自己的家里重获自由了。我立刻冲上楼来到劳拉的房间。她一个人在里面,我进去得太急了,没有关好门。

“玛丽安!”劳拉感激地说,“你是怎么进来的?”

“当然是伯爵帮的忙。”我回答。

“那个可怕的人!”她大声说,“他是个可恶的奸细!”

就在这时,我听到有人敲门。来的是伯爵夫人,她给我送刚才落在楼下的手绢。她脸色苍白,看了她的眼神,我就明白她一直在门口偷听。

“哦,劳拉,”伯爵夫人走了以后,我对劳拉说,“你不应该管伯爵叫奸细,我们都会后悔的。”

“他真的是奸细,玛丽安!昨天在湖边有人跟踪我,那人就是他。是他告诉珀西瓦尔的,珀西瓦尔整个上午都在等我和安妮·凯瑟里克。凯瑟里克没来,我在沙地小坑里找到一张纸条,上面说一个胖老头昨天跟踪她。那人没有抓住她,但是她今天下午不敢来了。她一大早就来藏了纸条,还说她会很快再来见我,告诉我珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。”

“那张纸条呢?”我问,“在你手里吗?”

“没有。我正在看的时候,珀西瓦尔爵士出现在我面前。他把纸条夺过去,要我告诉他安妮·凯瑟里克说了什么。他那么用力地抓我的手臂!——看,都青了。我能怎么办,玛丽安?我一点儿办法也没有,只好都告诉他了。”

我看着劳拉手臂上的伤,心里恨透了珀西瓦尔爵士却敢怒不敢言。

“可他还不相信我,”劳拉继续说道,“他说他知道凯瑟里克还告诉了我很多事,我不说实话,他就把我锁起来。然后他把我带回庄园,下令辞退范妮,还把我锁在房间里。噢,玛丽安,他简直像个疯子!我们该怎么办呢?”

“他是疯了——因为他害怕。他认为你知道了他的秘密,”我说,“我必须采取行动保护你——谁知道我还可以在这儿呆多久呢?”我冥思苦想了几分钟,“我要写两封信让范妮带走。我再也不能相信那个邮袋了。一封给克尔先生,告诉他你的伤和珀西瓦尔爵士的粗暴行为。”

“那另外一封呢?”劳拉迫不及待地问。

“给费尔利先生,”我回答,“你那懒惰、自私的叔叔。我要让他请你回一次利默里奇,不带你丈夫。”

离开劳拉,我回到自己的房间,开始写信。范妮已经离开了庄园,今晚住在村里的旅店,明天动身长途旅行去坎伯兰郡。我想我晚饭前有时间到旅店,然后再回来。所以,我悄悄地溜出庄园,朝村子走去。

我不时回头张望,看是否有人跟踪。或许是我的想象在作怪?现在,我开始怀疑一切——任何小的声响,路上的影子,一切风吹草动。刚才写信的时候,我觉得门外有丝绸衣服的响动。我甚至怀疑是否有人来我房间偷看过我桌子里的东西。我加快了脚步,尽量不去想这些。

来到小旅店,我在范妮的房间见到了她。离开劳拉让她难过得哭了起来。但是,当我告诉她格莱德夫人和我需要她的帮助时,她不哭了。

“这儿有两封信,”我说,“一封你明天到伦敦后寄给克尔先生,另一封你到利默里奇后亲手交给费尔利先生。一定把信收好。”

范妮把信塞到衣服里。“我把信放在这儿,小姐,”她说,“我会照你的吩咐去做。”

7
A conversation in the night

I arrived back at the house with only twenty minutes to get ready for dinner — and to slip into Laura's room to say that the letters were safely in Fanny's hands.

Laura looked pale. 'I'm not coming down to dinner,' she said. 'Sir Percival came to my door, shouting at me to tell him where Anne Catherick is.'

'At least that means he hasn't found her yet,' I said.

At dinner the Count looked hot and red in the face, and his clothes were a little untidy. Had he been out too, I wondered? He seemed troubled by some secret annoyance or anxiety, and was almost as silent as Sir Percival. At the end of the meal, when Madame Fosco and I left the table, the Count stood up too.

'Where are you going, Fosco?' Sir Percival said. 'Sit down and have another glass of wine. I want a quiet talk with you.'

'Not now, Percival. Later,' he answered.

Earlier in the day I had heard Sir Percival make the same request, and this was the second time the Count had postponed the talk. Why, I wondered? And what was it that Sir Percival wanted to discuss so urgently?

We went into the living room and Madame Fosco, usually so slow and deliberate in her movements, drank her tea at great speed and then slipped quietly out of the room. I began to leave too, but the Count stopped me, first by a request for more tea, then by asking my opinion on some music, and then by playing several noisy Italian songs on the piano. Eventually, I escaped from him and went up to Laura's room. Had she seen or heard anything of Madame Fosco, I asked? No, she had not. We talked together till ten o'clock, and then I went downstairs again to say goodnight. Sir Percival, the Count and his wife were sitting together in the living room. I noticed that Madame Fosco's face was now hot and red. Where had she been, and what had she been doing? As I looked at her, she gave a little smile, as though at some private joke.

I said goodnight to everybody, and as I left the room, I heard Sir Percival say impatiently to the Count, 'Come outside and have a smoke, Fosco.'

'With pleasure, Percival, when all the ladies have gone to bed,' replied the Count.

Up in my room, I could not stop myself thinking about this private discussion between Sir Percival and the Count, postponed all day and now, it seemed, about to take place in the silence and loneliness of the night. After a while, I went from my bedroom into my sitting room, and closed the door between the rooms. It was dark, as no candles were lit, and I looked out of the open window for some time, down into the blackness of the garden. There was a smell like rain in the still, heavy air.

Suddenly I saw two red points of light advancing in the dark and stopping below my bedroom window, inside which a candle was burning. One red point was small, the other was big. The Count smoking a cigarette, and Sir Percival smoking a cigar, I think. They could not see me in the darkness of my sitting room, so I waited to hear what they said.

'Why don't you come in and sit down?' Sir Percival said.

'Wait till we see that light go out,' replied the Count. 'When I know she's in bed, and I have checked the rooms on each side of the library, then we will talk.'

Such secrecy! I decided I must listen to this conversation, in spite of the Count's efforts to keep it private. The idea terrified me, but Laura's happiness — perhaps even her life — might depend on what I heard. How could I do it? I realized I could get out on to the flat verandah roof which ran past the bedrooms, about three feet below the windows. It was narrow, but there was room to move along it till I was above the library window. The Count and Sir Percival usually sat near the open window, smoking, and if they did, I would be able to hear them from above.

I went back to my bedroom, put on a long dark cloak with a hood, and put out the candle. Then, after a while, I returned to my sitting room and climbed out of the window on to the verandah roof. My heart began to beat very fast. I had to pass five windows — four were dark, but the fifth window was the Countess's room, and it looked out over the exact place above the library where I planned to sit. And there was still a light in it. I crept along the roof, then went down on my hands and knees to pass her window. As I passed, I looked up — and saw her shadow against the thin curtains at the window...

I stop breathing. Has she heard me? Will she look out? No, the shadow moves away, she's gone. Now I move to my position at the edge of the roof and begin to listen. Are they there, or have they gone elsewhere for their talk? Ah, I can hear the Count's voice.

'Miss Halcombe's light is out, the rooms next door are empty, the only window with a light in is my wife's — so now we may talk. We are at a serious crisis in our affairs, Percival, and we must decide about the future tonight.'

'It's a worse crisis than you think,' growls Sir Percival.

'Listen, Percival. This is our situation. We both came to this house in need of money and the only way of getting it was with the help of your wife. Now what did I tell you? I told you never to lose your temper with her, and especially never with her sister, Miss Halcombe. And have you remembered this? Not once. Your mad temper lost your wife's signature, lost the ready money, made Miss Halcombe write to the lawyer for the first time —'

'First time! Has she written again?'

'Yes, she has written again today.'

What! How does he know that? Did he follow me to the hotel? But even if he did, he couldn't have seen the letters — they went straight from my hand to Fanny's dress. So how does he know?

'You're lucky,' the Count continues, 'that you have me in the house to undo the harm that you do. Lucky that I said no when you were mad enough to make your wife a prisoner and keep her from Miss Halcombe. Can't you see that Miss Halcombe has the courage and understanding of a man? How I admire that woman! But she stands like a rock between us and that pretty little wife of yours. Now, the money. We have obtained a loan — a horribly expensive loan — by signing a document promising to repay it in three months. When the time comes, is there really no way to repay the money except by the help of your wife?'

'None.'

'What money do you actually get from your wife at present?'

'Only the income from her twenty thousand pounds.'

'Do you expect any more from your wife?'

'Absolutely nothing — except in the case of her death.'

'Aha! In the case of her death.'

A pause. It has begun to rain, and already I feel wet and cold.

Sir Percival again. 'If she leaves no children, I get her twenty thousand pounds.'

'Percival! Do you care about your wife?'

'Fosco! That's a very direct question.'

'Let's say your wife dies before the end of the summer — '

'Forget it, Fosco!'

'You would gain twenty thousand pounds.'

'Speak for yourself as well as for me, Fosco. You would also gain — my wife's death would be ten thousand pounds in your wife's pocket.'

'Percival, here is the position. If your wife lives, you pay that debt with her signature on the document. If your wife dies, you pay the debt with her death.'

The light in Madame Fosco's room goes out, and the verandah roof is now sunk in darkness. The rain continues. I Listen with every nerve in my body, memorizing word after word.

'Percival, you must now leave this matter in my hands. I have more than two months to find the solution, so let's not talk about it any more. Let me help you with your other difficulty — the difficulty that seems to have the name of Anne Catherick.'

'Look, Fosco, we may be friends, but we still have our secrets. This does not concern you. Please don't ask me about it.'

'My friend, I can respect a secret. So I won't ask you to tell me. But can I help you all the same?'

'If I don't find Anne Catherick, I'm a lost man. Both she and her mother know this — this secret. It could ruin me, Fosco. Anne Catherick has spoken to my wife and I'm sure she's told her.'

'But as your wife, surely it's in her interest to keep it a secret?'

'If she loved me, that would be true. But she's in love with someone she met before we married, a drawing teacher called Walter Hartright. And who helped Anne Catherick escape from the asylum? Hartright. Who saw her again in Cumberland? Hartright. He knows the secret, and my wife knows the secret. If they get together, they will use it against me.'

'Yes, yes, I see. Where is Mr Hartright?'

'Out of the country. He sailed for America.'

'Don't worry, then. I will deal with him if he ever comes back. Depend on it. But first we must find Anne Catherick. What about her mother? Can she be trusted?'

'It's in her interest not to tell anyone the secret.'

'Good. Now, how will I recognize Anne Catherick?'

'Easily. She's the pale, sickly likeness of my wife.'

A noise as a chair is pushed back. The Count has jumped to his feet and is walking about. He seems amazed.

'What!!! Are she and your wife related to each other?'

'Not at all.'

'And yet so alike? Well, I will know her when I see her.'

'What the devil are you laughing about, Fosco?'

'Just a thought, my good friend, just a thought. But enough for tonight. You will pay the debt and find Anne Catherick. I promise you. You can put your mind at rest, Percival.'

Not another word is spoken. I hear the library door close. I am wet to the skin, stiff and aching with the cold. At first I can't move, but slowly, painfully, I creep back to my window and climb in. As I fall on the floor, I hear the clock strike a quarter past one. Time passes. Somehow I manage to get up and put on dry clothes. I am burning hot — and shivering with cold. I know I must write down what I have heard, so I find paper and pen and write without stopping. The fever rises in me, burning, burning. I open the window for cool air...

Eight o'clock. Bright sunshine, which hammers at my eyes. My head aches, my bones ache, my skin burns, yet I cannot stop shivering. I lie down to sleep, my writing finished, and in my fever I see Count Fosco come into my room and read the pages I have written. He smiles. I am helpless — unable to move, speak, breathe... and I sink into the long, black night of illness...


untidy adj. not neat or orderly 不整齐的

deliberate adj. leisurely, unhurried 不慌不忙的

impatiently adv. lacking patience or tolerance 不耐烦地;着急地

go out put out 吹灭;熄灭

verandah n. an open area with a floor and a roof that is built on the side of a house on the ground floor 游廊

crisis n. time of danger or difficulty 危机

understanding n. the ability to understand or think 见识

memorize v. commit to memory 记住

in her interest as something that is advantageous to her 对她有利

hammer at inflict pain at 使疼痛

7.深夜密谈

我回到庄园时,只剩20分钟就要吃晚餐了——我还得溜进劳拉的房间,告诉她信已经安全地交给范妮了。

劳拉脸色苍白。“我不下楼吃晚饭了,”她说,“珀西瓦尔爵士刚来过,站在门口朝我大喊,要我告诉他安妮·凯瑟里克在哪儿。”

“这起码说明他还没找到她。”我说。

吃晚饭的时候,福斯科伯爵满脸通红,衣服也有些不整。他也出去了吗,我心里疑惑。他似乎有什么秘密的困扰,几乎和珀西瓦尔爵士一样一言不发。吃罢饭,伯爵夫人和我往外走的时候,伯爵也站起身。

“你去哪里,福斯科?”珀西瓦尔爵士问道,“坐下再喝一杯。我要同你单独谈一谈。”

“现在不行,珀西瓦尔。以后吧。”伯爵回答。

白天的时候我也听到珀西瓦尔爵士提出同样的要求,这是一天之内伯爵第二次推迟和珀西瓦尔谈话了。为什么呢?我不明白。珀西瓦尔爵士这么着急要和伯爵谈什么呢?

我们走进客厅,平常总是慢条斯理的伯爵夫人迅速地喝完茶,不声不响地走了出去。我也朝外面走,但是伯爵叫住了我。他先是要我帮他添茶,然后又问我对某些音乐的看法,还在钢琴上弹了几首闹哄哄的意大利曲子。最后,我才得以离开他,来到劳拉的房间。我问她有没有看见伯爵夫人或是听见她的动静?她说没有。我们俩一直聊到10点,我下楼跟大家道晚安。珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵夫妇都在客厅坐着。我注意到伯爵夫人的脸通红。她刚才去哪儿了,干什么去了?看到我在打量她,伯爵夫人笑了笑,好像我们两个私下开过什么玩笑似的。

我同大家道了晚安。离开客厅的时候,我听见珀西瓦尔爵士不耐烦地对伯爵说:“到外面来抽支烟,福斯科。”

“好的,珀西瓦尔。等女士们都去睡了以后。”伯爵说。

回到楼上的房间,我还在想珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵的密谈,拖了一天,到现在终于要在寂静的夜晚进行了。过了一会儿,我从卧室来到我的客厅,把房门关好。房间漆黑一片,没有点蜡烛。我透过窗子向外望了一会儿,外面的花园一片黑暗,宁静、潮湿的空气中有一种雨的味道。

突然,我看到黑暗中有两个红色的亮点在移动,然后在我卧室的窗下停住了,我卧室里点着一支蜡烛。一个亮点小,另一个大些。我想肯定是伯爵在抽烟卷,珀西瓦尔爵士在抽雪茄。我的客厅是黑的,他们看不见我。因此,我在客厅等着听他们说什么。

“为什么不进屋,坐下来谈?”珀西瓦尔爵士说。

“等到那蜡烛灭了再说,”伯爵说,“等她睡了,我再查看一下书房两边的房间,然后我们再谈。”

那么机密!不管伯爵怎样保密,我一定要听听这场谈话。这个想法使我很害怕,但是劳拉的幸福——甚或她的生命——可能都跟我听到的内容有关。我怎么去偷听呢?我想到可以从游廊的平顶上过去,平顶连着好几间卧室,比窗户大约低3英尺。顶子很窄,但还是可以过去,到达书房窗户的上面。伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士经常坐在敞开的窗子旁抽烟,如果是这样的话,我就可以从上面偷听他们的谈话了。

我回到卧室,穿上一件长长的带有兜帽的黑色斗篷,吹灭了蜡烛。呆了一会儿,我回到客厅,爬出窗户来到游廊的平顶上。我的心跳开始加速。我必须爬过五个窗子,其中四个已经没有了亮光,可第五个是伯爵夫人的房间,那儿恰好在书房上面,正是我要偷听的地方。而且,伯爵夫人的房间里还亮着烛光。我沿着平顶往前移动,然后手脚并用地爬过她的窗子。经过她窗下时,我抬头看了看——透过薄薄的窗帘看见她在窗前的身影……

我屏住呼吸。她是不是听见我在这儿了?她会向外看吗?没有,影子移开了,她走了。我来到平顶的边上,找好了偷听的位置。他们在这儿吗?会不会到别的地方去谈?啊,我听见伯爵的声音了。

“哈尔库姆小姐房间的蜡烛灭了,这两边的房间没人,唯一有亮光的窗户是我妻子的房间——好了,我们现在可以谈了。珀西瓦尔,我们的事现在出现了严重危机,今晚我们必须计划一下该怎么办。”

“事情比你想的还要糟。”珀西瓦尔爵士嘀咕着。

“听着,珀西瓦尔。这就是我们两人的处境。我们都是为了钱才到这个庄园来的,而得到钱的唯一途径是通过你的妻子。我跟你说过什么?我告诉你千万不要跟你妻子发脾气,尤其不能和她姐姐哈尔库姆小姐发脾气。可是你记住了吗?根本没有。你的坏脾气让我们失去了你妻子的签字,到手的钱没了,还让哈尔库姆小姐给律师写了第一封信——”

“第一封信?她又写信了吗?”

“是的,她今天又写信了。”

什么!他是怎么知道的?他是不是跟踪我去了旅店?但是就算他去了,也不会看到那两封信的——信是直接从我手里到了范妮的衣服里的。那他是怎么知道的呢?

“你很走运,”伯爵接着说,“有我在这儿帮你解决麻烦。你很走运,在你发疯一样把你的妻子当犯人关起来,不让她见哈尔库姆小姐的时候,我出来阻拦了你。你看不出来吗?哈尔库姆小姐具有男人一样的勇气和见识,我非常敬佩她!但是,她就像挡在我们和你那漂亮小妻子之间的一块巨石。现在说钱的问题。我们得到了一笔贷款——一笔代价极大的贷款——我们签了字,答应三个月后还钱。到时候,除了靠你妻子就没有任何办法还钱了吗?”

“没有。”

“你现在从你妻子那儿可以得到什么钱?”

“只有她那20,000英镑带来的收入。”

“你还能从你妻子身上得到更多的钱吗?”

“一分都没有——除非她死了”

“呵!除非她死了。”

谈话暂停了。天开始下雨,我感到身上又湿又冷。

珀西瓦尔爵士接着说:“如果她没留下孩子,我可以得到她那20,000英镑。”

“珀西瓦尔!你真的在乎你妻子吗?”

“福斯科!这个问题太直接了。”

“假如你妻子在夏末死去——”

“别说了,福斯科!”

“你会得到20,000英镑。”

“别光说我,还有你,福斯科。你也会受益,妻子死了,妻子口袋里就会装进10,000英镑。”

“珀西瓦尔,这就是现在的局面。如果你妻子活着,你需要得到她签字来还债;如果你妻子死了,你就用她的死来还债。”

福斯科夫人房间的烛光熄灭了,游廊顶上一团漆黑。雨还在下。我全神贯注地听着,把每个字都记在心里。

“珀西瓦尔,你现在必须把这件事交给我来办,我有两个多月的时间去想办法,现在咱们先不谈这个。让我来帮你解决另一个麻烦——那个好像和安妮·凯瑟里克这个名字有关的麻烦。”

“瞧,福斯科,我们或许是朋友,但我们都有各自的秘密。这件事与你无关。请你不要问我这件事。”

“我的朋友,我可以尊重你的秘密。我不问你的秘密是什么,但不管怎么说,我能帮你点儿什么吗?”

“假如找不到安妮·凯瑟里克,我就完了。她和她母亲都知道那个——那个秘密。那个秘密会毁了我,福斯科。安妮·凯瑟里克找过我妻子,我敢肯定她已经把秘密告诉我妻子了。”

“可是,作为你的妻子,保守这个秘密不也对她有好处吗?”

“如果她爱我,应该是这样的。但是,她爱上了一个她在我们结婚以前认识的人,一个叫沃尔特·哈特里特的绘画教师。是谁帮助安妮·凯瑟里克从精神病院逃走的?是哈特里特。又是谁在坎伯兰郡跟她见面?还是哈特里特。他知道这个秘密,我妻子也知道这个秘密。要是他们两个聚到一块儿,肯定利用这个秘密来对付我。”

“说的对,说的对,我明白了。哈特里特先生现在在哪儿?”

“在国外。他去美洲了。”

“那就不用担心了。他要是回来,我来对付他。你放心。不过我们还是要先找到安妮·凯瑟里克。她母亲呢?可信吗?”

“保守这个秘密对她有好处。”

“很好。不过我怎么才能认出安妮·凯瑟里克来?”

“这容易。她长得很像我妻子,只是脸色苍白,面容憔悴。”

我听见向后移动椅子的声响。伯爵站了起来,在屋里来回走动着,他显得非常惊讶。

alt

“什么!她跟你妻子有亲戚关系吗?”

“一点儿没有。”

“那就这么相像?我见到她会认出来的。”

“你到底在笑什么,福斯科?”

“只是一个想法,我的好朋友,一个想法而己。不过今晚就谈到这儿。你会还清债务,找到安妮·凯瑟里克的。我敢保证。你就放心吧,珀西瓦尔。”

谈话结束了。我听到书房的门关上了。我身上已经湿透,身体被冻得又僵又疼。起初整个人都动不了。我艰难地慢慢爬回我的窗边,爬进屋里。我跳到地板上时,听见钟响了,1点一刻。时间过得真快。我挣扎着起来,换上干衣服。我浑身发烫——同时也冷得打哆嗦。我明白我必须把听到的全都写下来,于是找出纸笔,开始不停地写起来。我烧得越来越厉害,浑身好像着了火。我打开窗户,让冷空气进来……

8点了。明媚的阳光使我的眼睛隐隐作痛。我头痛得非常厉害,全身酸痛,而且发烫,还不停地打哆嗦。我躺下睡觉,记录已经写完了。迷迷糊糊地,我看见福斯科伯爵进到我的房间,看了我写的东西。他笑了笑。我毫无办法——不能动,不能说话,不能呼吸……我陷入长长的昏迷,眼前一片黑暗……

8
Fever

While I lay unconscious in my illness, I knew nothing, of course, of the events happening around me. It was only much later that I learnt from other people what had happened.

When I eventually returned to Limmeridge, Fanny told me about the letters and the night she had left Blackwater.

'You left me at about seven, miss, and at nine o'clock I had another visitor — the Countess! Yes, I was so surprised. But she was very kind. She saw that I was upset at leaving and insisted on having some tea with me. So I drank my tea, and five minutes later I fainted — for the first time in my life! When I woke up, it was about half an hour later. A lady from the hotel was looking after me as the Countess had had to go home. I checked the letters in my dress, miss, and they were both there, quite safe.

'And just as you told me, in London I posted the letter to Mr Kyrle, and as soon as I got to Limmeridge, I delivered the other letter personally to Mr Fairlie. I told him all about being dismissed by Sir Percival and everything, and what had happened at the hotel, but, well, he didn't seem very interested, miss.'

That last piece of information did not surprise me in the least. Had Laura's uncle ever been interested in anybody except himself? When I went to talk to him, he was full of excuses.

'My nerves, dear Marian, remember my nerves! Yes, of course I will tell you about the letters, but please don't get excited and go around banging doors! Try to stay calm.'

'I suppose my letter about Laura upset you,' I said.

'Of course it did, dear Marian! What was I to do? You told me Laura needed to escape from her husband and to come to Limmeridge. But suppose Sir Percival had come after her? Think of the noise, the arguments, the banging of doors! That's why I wrote to you, to beg you to come here first by yourself, to talk the matter over with me.'

I never saw that letter, of course, as it arrived at Blackwater when I was unconscious with fever.

'And Mr Kyrle wrote to you as well, didn't he?' I said.

'Yes. He wrote to say he had received an envelope addressed to him in your handwriting, but which contained only a plain piece of paper without a word on it. He had written to you about it, and had received no reply. Why he expected me to explain this mystery, I had no idea. And that's what I told him.'

So helpful, I thought bitterly. But there was no point in saying anything. 'And were you surprised not to hear from me again?'

'Indeed I was, until my sister's foreign husband, that extraordinary Count Fosco, came to see me. Such a huge man!' said Mr Fairlie, his eyes closing at the memory. 'But surprisingly quiet on his feet. Anyway, he explained how ill you were, dear Marian, which was why you hadn't replied to my letter. I was extremely shocked and sorry to hear about your illness. But the Count did talk so much — I thought he would never leave!'

'And he persuaded you to write to Laura,' I said, trying to keep my voice calm and quiet.

'Yes, he urged me — in fact, practically ordered me — to invite Laura here at once. She was too nervous and upset to be of any use to you in the sick-room, he said, and the situation with Sir Percival was growing more dangerous every day. There was no trouble with the journey, because he and his wife had just rented a house in London. So Laura could travel up to London, stay the night with them, and travel on to Cumberland the next day.'

'So you wrote the letter and gave it to him,' I said.

'Where was the harm in it? In any case, I never for a moment thought that Laura would leave you alone when you were so ill. And how was I to know what shocking event was about to take place? No one could possibly say that I was to blame …'

*  *  *

I know now exactly who was to blame, but it took quite a time to put all the different pieces of information together. When I first began to be aware of my surroundings again during my recovery, I knew nothing, of course, about the letters. I knew only that I was not in my usual bedroom and there was a foreign lady looking after me. I had no idea who she was and she would not answer any of my questions. So I was very relieved a few days later when the familiar face of Mrs Michelson appeared.

'Oh, Mrs Michelson,' I said, 'I'm so glad to see you. Please tell me what's been happening.'

'You've had typhus fever, Miss Halcombe. You've been very ill. But you're getting stronger now, I'm happy to say.'

'Typhus! No wonder I feel so weak. And my sister, Lady Glyde — I do hope she didn't catch the infection?'

'No, no, she didn't.'

Mrs Michelson would not look me in the face, and I began to feel worried. Was she afraid to tell me something?

'Is my sister ill? Please, Mrs Michelson, I must know!'

'No, she's not ill. But... but she's not here. She went away yesterday to London, and is going on to Limmeridge today.'

I stared at her. Laura gone? I could not believe it. What did it mean? Had something terrible happened? I remembered the conversation I heard during the night on the verandah roof, and my heart filled with fear.

'And Sir Percival …?' I could not finish my question.

'Sir Percival left the house last night, to go abroad,' she said. 'The Count and Countess have gone to London, and the servants have all been dismissed, except for a cook and the gardener. You and I are the only people living in the house, Miss Halcombe.'

The shock of this news was so great that I felt faint. Mrs Michelson hurried to fetch me a glass of water.

'Oh, Miss Halcombe, I'm sorry,' she said. 'Try not to worry. You must rest now, and try to sleep a little.'

Later, when I felt stronger, we talked again. 'Tell me everything you can remember, from the day I fell ill,' I begged Mrs Michelson. 'I must know what happened.'

'Well, Miss Halcombe, on that first morning a servant found you, lying on your bed in a fever, holding a pen tightly in your hand. The doctor was called at once, a Mr Dawson, who said you were very ill. The Countess and I acted as your nurses — Lady Glyde wanted to help, but she was so upset at seeing you unconscious that she couldn't stop crying.

'Sir Percival and the Count were concerned about you too, though they seemed worried about something else as well. In fact, the Count spent three days down by the lake, at that old boat-house, and I remember he came in once when I was going through the hall. Sir Percival came rushing out of the library, saying, "Have you found her?" I didn't hear the answer and I have no idea who they were talking about.'

I had a very good idea who they were talking about, but it was obvious that Mrs Michelson didn't, so I said nothing.

'Your fever got worse,' Mrs Michelson went on. 'The Count said we needed a nurse to help us, so Madame Fosco took the train to London and came back with Mrs Rubelle.'

'Is that the foreign lady who was looking after me before you appeared, Mrs Michelson?' I asked.

'Yes, that's right. She didn't say very much, but she was a capable nurse. I had no complaints about her work. Mr Dawson, the doctor, was suspicious of her because she was recommended by the Count, and he didn't like the Count at all.'

'Why was that?' I asked.

'The Count had a lot of medical knowledge, you see, and he was always suggesting to Mr Dawson ways of reducing your fever. Mr Dawson called it interference and got quite angry about it. But in fact, miss, the Count recognized you had typhus fever before Mr Dawson did. He — the Count, that is — went away to London for a week, and when he came back, he took one look at you and said "Typhus". Mr Dawson sent to London for another doctor, who came and said the same thing. Then we had a very worrying ten days, when your life was in danger, but at last the doctor said you were through the worst and with good nursing care you would recover. Lady Glyde was so overcome by this happy news that she became ill herself and had to be put to bed.'

'My sister has always had delicate health,' I said.

'Yes, she's not strong. Anyway, Miss Halcombe, it was at this point that disturbing things started to happen. First, the Count and Mr Dawson argued again so fiercely that Mr Dawson left, saying he refused to offer his services any more. Next, Sir Percival told me that he was going to close the house. As soon as you and Lady Glyde were able to travel, he said, you would be going away for a change of air. He told me to dismiss all the servants, except a girl to do the cooking, and a gardener. Imagine! Just like that! I tell you, Miss Halcombe, if I hadn't felt so sorry for you and Lady Glyde, I would have resigned at once!

'The last thing was very strange indeed,' said Mrs Michelson, shaking her head. 'Sir Percival said that you and Lady Glyde would benefit from a stay at the seaside town of Torquay. He told me to go there to look for a suitable house to rent, and told me how much money I could pay. Well, I knew it wasn't enough, and I wish now that I hadn't gone, but he was my employer so I thought I had to obey his orders. I returned yesterday, after two days away, and told Sir Percival that it was impossible to find a house at such a low rent. Sir Percival showed no interest in my news at all. He just said that the Count and Countess had left Blackwater Park for their new house in London.'

Mrs Michelson looked at me anxiously. 'I think you'll find the next part of the story very upsetting,' she said. 'Poor Lady Glyde was cruelly deceived by her husband.'

'You don't surprise me,' I murmured. 'Please go on.'

'After seeing Sir Percival, I went upstairs to see you and Lady Glyde. Your sister, though still very weak, was feeling better and wanted to get up and go and visit you in your room. I helped her to dress and as we went down the passage, we met Sir Percival.

'"If you're going to see your sister, you won't find her," Sir Percival says. "She left the house yesterday with Fosco and his wife. She decided to go with them to London, on her way to Limmeridge. Mrs Rubelle went too, to look after her on the journey. You can look in her room if you don't believe me."

'I was shocked and amazed by this, and Lady Glyde's face went as white as a sheet. She almost ran down the passage and threw open the door to your room. It was empty.

'Then she cries out to Sir Percival, "Marian was much too ill to travel. Even if she did go, she would never leave without saying goodbye to me first. And why would she go to Limmeridge alone, leaving me here at Blackwater Park?"

'"Because your uncle won't receive you till he has seen your sister first," says Sir Percival. "Have you forgotten the letter he wrote to her at the beginning of her illness?"

'All through this interview, Miss Halcombe, I thought Sir Percival seemed very strange — jumpy and nervous, not at all his usual self. And now he just turned and walked away. Lady Glyde was shaking with fear, and looked at me with terror in her eyes. "Something's happened to my sister. I must follow her — I must see that she's alive and well with my own eyes. Please, Mrs Michelson, come down with me to Sir Percival. Stay with me, please!" She held my arm so tightly that I had to go with her.

'Sir Percival was in the dining room, drinking. He drank at least four glasses of wine while we were in there, Miss Halcombe. Lady Glyde was very brave, I thought. She said, "If my sister is well enough to travel, then so am I. Please allow me to follow her at once by the afternoon train."

'Sir Percival was so rude and rough with her. "You can go tomorrow," he said. "I'll write to Fosco. He can meet you at the station and you'll stay at his house overnight."

'Lady Glyde's hand began to tremble violently on my arm. "I would rather not stay at the Count's house," she said.

'Sir Percival then got very angry. "Why not?" he shouted." What's wrong with sleeping at your aunt's house? Your sister slept there last night to break her journey, and so will you. That's what your uncle, Mr Fairlie, wants you to do as well. Here — there's a letter from him. I forgot to send it up to you."

'Poor Lady Glyde was shaking so much that she gave me the letter to read to her. It was very short. I remember it, word for word: Dear Laura, please come whenever you like. Break the journey by sleeping at your aunt's house. Sorry to hear of Marian's illness. Your fond uncle, Frederick Fairlie.

'Lady Glyde didn't try to argue any more, and we went back upstairs. It seemed quite a sensible plan to me, Miss Halcombe, and I couldn't understand why Lady Glyde was so terrified of Count Fosco. She walked up and down her room, whispering, "Poor Marian — in that horrible man's power! I must find her, even if I have to follow her to Count Fosco's house."

'The next day I helped Lady Glyde get ready and went with her to the station. "If Marian has already left for Limmeridge, I won't stay at the Count's house," she told me. "I'll go and stay with Mrs Vesey, my old governess." As the train pulled away, I saw her pale, frightened face at the window. I felt so sad for her.

'Then I came back here. Imagine my surprise, Miss Halcombe, when I saw Mrs Rubelle walking in the garden! "What are you doing here?" I said. "You went to London with the Foscos and Miss Halcombe!" And then it all came out. You were still in the house. While I was out of the way in Torquay, they moved you to a room in an unused part of the house and kept you hidden. You must have been in a very deep sleep when they moved you. Perhaps they drugged you — I don't know. Then Sir Percival appeared and gave me this explanation. It was all for his wife's own good, he said. She needed a change of air, and would not have gone to Limmeridge if she had known that you were still in the house. He spoke in such a violent, angry way that I did not dare to express my opinion.

'So you see, Miss Halcombe, that was how poor Lady Glyde was deceived. It was wicked and cruel. I would have resigned my position immediately, but Sir Percival told me that Mrs Rubelle was leaving and there would be no one to look after you if I left too. So, naturally, I stayed. Sir Percival left last night, as I told you. The gardener said he seemed half mad. He called for his carriage, and drove away like an escaped criminal, saying his house was a prison and he would never return to it. I hope and pray, Miss Halcombe, that I never see that man again.'

Poor Laura — how she must have suffered! There was nothing I could do. I could not go after her as I was too weak even to stand. I hoped desperately that she had found out about the deception and would write soon to tell me that she was safe.

*  *  *

A letter came a few days later, but it was not for me, and not from Laura. It was for Mrs Michelson from Madame Fosco.

Mrs Michelson came into my room with the letter in her hand. Mr Dawson, who had agreed to be my doctor again now that the Count had gone, was behind her. I took one look at both their faces, and sat up in bed, terrified.

'What is it?' I gasped. 'You have some dreadful news for me. I can see it in your faces.'

Mrs Michelson sat down on the edge of the bed and took my hand. 'Your poor, dear sister, Lady Glyde...' she began.

The room began to darken around me, as though night was falling, and the words seemed to come from a great distance.

'... was taken seriously ill when she arrived at her aunt's house in London, and died the next day, very suddenly. She is to be buried at Limmeridge, in her mother's grave.'

*  *  *

Kind Mrs Michelson nursed me through my second illness, with Mr Dawson's help. I was not able to travel for more than three weeks, but eventually I found the strength to leave that hated house and return to Limmeridge. Mrs Michelson and I travelled together to London, where I went to see Mr Kyrle. To him I revealed the terrible suspicions in my mind about the circumstances of my sister's death. He was most concerned and promised to make enquiries for me.

I went on to Limmeridge House and a few days later Mr Kyrle wrote to me there. He had taken statements from several witnesses, he said, and was convinced that nothing suspicious had happened. He sent copies of the statements for my information. This was the one by the Count's cook, Mrs Hester Pinhorn:


I was recently employed as a cook by the Count and Countess Fosco at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. One day near the end of July, the Countess's niece, Lady Glyde, arrived at the house. She immediately fell ill. I saw her lying on the sofa, her face all white. I ran out for a doctor and came back with Mr Goodricke. He examined her and said she had a very serious heart disease. During the night she got worse. Then, at about five o'clock the next day, she lost consciousness. The doctor went in and, after putting his hand on her heart, announced that she was dead. He said that, as the Count was a foreigner, he himself would go to record the death at the district office. The Count and Countess were very badly affected by the lady's death. The lady's husband was abroad, so they arranged the funeral themselves, which took place in Cumberland.


I was still very weak from my long illness, and despair nearly overtook me at this point. I had no friend to turn to, and no idea what to do next. I went every day to the churchyard, to put flowers on the grave and to read again those sad, sad words.


In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde

Wife of Sir Percival Glyde, of Blackwater Park, Hampshire

Born 27th March 1829

Died 25th July 1850


personally adv. in person 亲自

practically adv. almost 几乎

rent v. use at a rent

typhus n. a serious infectious disease 斑疹伤寒

catch the infection be affected by the infectious disease 被传染

be through have passed 度过

fiercely adv. violently 激烈地

obey v. carry out a command 服从

jumpy adj. making sudden movements 躁动的

pull away (of a train ) leave (火车)离开;开走

drug v. to give someone a drug, esp in order to make them feel tired or go to sleep 用药麻醉

for one's good for one's interest 为了……的利益;为了……好

be convinced be certain that something is true 确信

announce v. make publicly known 宣布

overtake v. overwhelm 击垮

8.高烧

我在床上昏睡着,对周围发生了什么当然一无所知。很长时间以后,我才从别人那里得知出了什么事。

后来,我回到利默里奇,范妮告诉我那两封信的事以及她离开布莱克沃特那天晚上发生的事情。

“你从我那儿走的时候是7点钟,9点钟又来了一位客人——是伯爵夫人!没错,我非常吃惊。但她特别和善。她看出我在为离开而难过,就坚持要和我喝茶。我喝了茶,5分钟后就晕过去了——这可是我头一回晕过去!我醒的时候已经过了大约半小时。旅店的一位女士在照看我,伯爵夫人已经回去了。我检查衣服里的信,两封信都在,很安全。

“我照你说的,在伦敦把给克尔先生的信寄了出去,一到利默里奇,就把另一封信亲自交给了费尔利先生。我告诉他,我被珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了,还有在那边发生了什么以及旅店的事情,但是他好像对这些都没什么兴趣,小姐。”

对最后一点,我丝毫不觉得奇怪。劳拉的这个叔叔,除了对他自己的事还对什么有兴趣?我去找他谈的时候,他满嘴借口。

“我的神经,亲爱的玛丽安,别忘了我的神经不好!是的,我当然会告诉你信的事,可是请你不要激动,不要总那么使劲儿关门!请你保持冷静。”

“我想我写给你关于劳拉的信让你担心了吧。”我说。

“当然让我担心了,亲爱的玛丽安!我该怎么做呢?你说劳拉需要逃离她丈夫,回到利默里奇来。但是,如果珀西瓦尔爵士随后过来找她怎么办?想想那会有多少噪音、吵闹、摔门声!这就是我为什么给你写信,叫你自己先回来,跟我谈谈这件事。”

我当然没见过那封信,因为信到布莱克沃特的时候,我正发着高烧,昏睡不醒。

“克尔先生也给你写信了,是吗?”我问。

“是的,他写信给我说,他收到一个署名给他的信封,是你的笔迹,但是里面只有一张白纸,一个字也没有。他给你写过信,但没收到回音。我不明白他为什么叫解释这个迷,我就这么跟他说的。”

真是挺帮忙的,我心里恨恨地想。现在说什么也没用了。“再没接到我的来信,你不感到奇怪吗?”

“我的确感到奇怪,直到我的那个外国妹夫,福斯科伯爵过来看我,我才明白发生了什么。他可真胖!”费尔利先生闭上眼睛,陷入回忆之中,“但是他走路却很轻。他告诉我你病得非常厉害,所以没有回信。听说你生病我非常震惊,也很难过。可是,伯爵没完没了地跟我说话——我简直觉得他不想走了!”

“是他让你给劳拉写信的吧。”我尽量用平和的语气说。

“是的,他请求我——实际上是命令我——让劳拉马上回到这儿来。他说劳拉非常紧张害怕,在你的房间里也帮不了什么忙。而且珀西瓦尔爵士一天比一天危险。旅途中不会有问题,因为他和妻子刚刚在伦敦租了一栋房子,劳拉可以先到伦敦,在他们那里住一晚,第二天再赶往坎伯兰郡。”

“所以,你就写了那封信,让他拿走了?”我问。

“这有什么不好吗?不管怎样,我根本不相信劳拉会在你病重的时候丢下你不管。而且我怎么知道将要发生什么事?谁也不能把事情怪到我头上……”

*  *  *

现在我知道究竟是谁在搞鬼了,但是把各种消息都串起来颇费了一些时间。我刚从昏迷中醒来,注意到周围的时候,对信的事自然一无所知。我只知道自己不在原来的卧室,一位外国女士在旁边照顾我。我不知道她是谁,她也不回答我的任何问题。因此,几天后当米切尔森太太熟悉的脸出现在我面前时,我大大地松了一口气。

“噢,米切尔森太太,”我说,“见到你真是太高兴了。快告诉我到底发生了什么?”

“你得了斑疹伤寒,哈尔库姆小姐。你病得很厉害。不过,我很高兴你现在恢复得很好。”

“斑疹伤寒!怪不得我这么虚弱。我妹妹,格莱德夫人——我希望她没被传染吧?”

“没有,她没有被传染。”

米切尔森太太不敢正眼看我,我开始担心起来,她是不是害怕告诉我什么事情?

“我妹妹病了吗?米切尔森太太,我必须知道真相!”

“没有,她没病。不过……不过她已经不在这儿了。她昨天去了伦敦,准备今天去利默里奇。”

我盯着她。劳拉走了?我不信。这说明什么呢?出了可怕的事?我记起了在游廊顶上听到的谈话,心里充满了恐惧。

“那珀西瓦尔爵士……?”我无法把话讲完。

“珀西瓦尔爵士昨晚离开庄园,到国外去了,”她说,“伯爵夫妇去了伦敦,仆人们全都遣散了,就剩下一个厨师和一个园丁。庄园里只有你和我了,哈尔库姆小姐。”

这个消息对我的震动太大,我感到一阵眩晕,米切尔森太太赶忙去为我拿了杯水来。

“哦,哈尔库姆小姐,真抱歉,”米切尔森太太说,“你别担心,一定要好好休息,试着睡一会儿吧。”

后来,我身上有些力气了,我们又聊起来。“告诉我,自从我生病那天起都发生了什么?”我恳求米切尔森太太,“我一定要知道出了什么事。”

“好吧,哈尔库姆小姐。头一天早上,一个仆人发现你躺在床上,发着高烧,手里还紧紧握着钢笔。我们很快叫来了一位医生,道森先生。他说你病得很厉害。伯爵夫人和我一起照顾你——格莱德夫人也想帮忙,但是看到你昏迷的样子,她很难过,不住地哭。

“珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵也都为你担心,不过他们两人好像还在为别的事担心。实际上,伯爵在湖边呆了三天,就在那个老船屋里。我记得他有一次回来,我正路过大厅。这时,珀西瓦尔爵士从书房冲出来问他:‘找到她了吗?’我没听到回答,也不知道他们说的是谁。”

我非常清楚他们说的是谁,明显米切尔森太太不知道,所以我没有说话。

“你烧得越来越厉害,”米切尔森太太接着说,“伯爵说我们需要找一个护士帮忙,于是福斯科夫人坐火车去了伦敦,带回了鲁贝尔太太。”

“就是那位在你来之前照顾我的外国女士吗,米切尔森太太?”

“对,就是她。她很少说话,但很能干。我对她干活儿挑不出任何毛病。道森先生,那位医生,对她有怀疑,因为她是伯爵推荐的,而道森先生一点儿也不喜欢伯爵。”

“为什么呢?”我问。

“你知道伯爵懂得许多医学知识,他不断地向道森先生提出给你退烧的办法。道森先生非常生气,说这是干涉他的工作。但实际上,小姐,伯爵比道森先生更早地看出你得了斑疹伤寒。他——我是说伯爵——到伦敦去了一星期,回来后看了你一眼就说是‘斑疹伤寒’。道森先生从伦敦又请来一位医生,也说是斑疹伤寒。接下来的十天我们大家都非常担心,你当时有生命危险。不过最后,医生说你已经度过了危险期,只要得到精心照顾,就会好起来。听到这个好消息,格莱德夫人过于高兴,结果她自己病倒了,不得不卧床休息。”

“我妹妹的身体一直很弱。”我说。

“是的,她的身体不太好。不过,哈尔库姆小姐,就在这个时候,令人心烦的事接二连三地发生了。先是伯爵和道森先生大吵了一架,道森先生走了,他说不愿意再干了。然后,珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我他准备关闭庄园。他说等你和格莱德夫人能出门旅行了,就应该离开这里,换换环境。他让我辞退了所有的仆人,只留下一个女仆做饭,还有一个园丁。真是难以想象!就是这样!我跟你说,哈尔库姆小姐,要不是担心你和格莱德夫人,我当时马上就不干了!

“最后一件事非常奇怪,”米切尔森太太摇摇头接着说,“珀西瓦尔爵士说,你和格莱德夫人到海滨小城托基呆一段时间会对你们有好处。他叫我去那里找一栋合适的房子租下来,还告诉我只能花多少钱。唉,我知道钱不够。我现在真希望没去那个地方,但他是东家,我想我不能不听他的吩咐。我走了两天,昨天回来的。我告诉珀西瓦尔爵士用那么少的钱根本不可能租到房子。他对我的回复一点儿也不感兴趣,只是说伯爵夫妇已经离开布莱克沃特,去伦敦的新居了。”

米切尔森太太不安地看着我。“我想下面的事情一定会让你难过,”她说,“可怜的格莱德夫人让她丈夫骗惨了。”

“我不会感到惊讶的,”我轻声说,“请接着讲。”

“见过了珀西瓦尔爵士,我上楼去看你和格莱德夫人。你妹妹虽说还很虚弱,但已经好多了。她要起来到你的房间看你。我帮她穿好衣服。在走廊里我们碰到了珀西瓦尔爵士。

“‘如果你是去看你的姐姐,你不会找到她了,’珀西瓦尔爵士说,‘她昨天同福斯科夫妇离开了这里。她决定跟他们顺路到伦敦,然后去利默里奇。鲁贝尔太太也走了,她要在路上照看你姐姐。你要是不信我的话,可以到她的房间看看。’

“听到这些,我大吃一惊。格莱德夫人的脸变得煞白。她几乎在走廊里跑起来,一把推开你的房门,里面空无一人。

“然后她冲着珀西瓦尔爵士叫起来:‘玛丽安病得那么厉害,根本不能旅行。即使要去的话,她也不会不跟我道别就走。为什么她要一个人去利默里奇,把我留在布莱克沃特?’

“‘因为你叔叔要先跟你姐姐见面,再见你,’珀西瓦尔爵士说,‘难道你忘了在你姐姐刚病的时候,他写来的信了吗?’

“整个谈话中,哈尔库姆小姐,我觉得珀西瓦尔爵士显得很怪——又烦躁,又紧张,跟平时的他一点儿也不一样。说完,他就转身走开了。格莱德夫人害怕得直哆嗦,她看着我,眼睛里充满了恐惧。‘我姐姐出事了。我必须去找她,我必须亲眼看到她平安无事。米切尔森太太,请和我一起去找珀西瓦尔爵士。请陪我去!’她紧紧地抓着我的胳膊,我只好跟她一起下楼。

“珀西瓦尔爵士在餐厅喝酒,我们在的那一会儿,他就至少喝了四杯,哈尔库姆小姐。我觉得格莱德夫人很勇敢。她说:‘如果姐姐可以旅行,那我也可以。请允许我乘下午的火车去追她。’

“珀西瓦尔爵士对她非常无理、粗暴。‘你可以明天去,’他说,‘我会给福斯科写信。他会到车站接你,你晚上就住他那里。’

“格莱德夫人扶着我胳膊的手开始抖得很厉害。‘我不想住在伯爵家。’她说。

“珀西瓦尔爵士发怒了。‘为什么?’他大声嚷道,‘在你姑妈家过夜有什么不好?你姐姐昨天途中就是在那里过夜的,你也一样。这也是你叔叔费尔利先生的要求。给——这是他的信,我忘了给你了。’

“可怜的格莱德夫人哆嗦得很厉害,她把信交给我,让我念给她听。信很短,我还一字不差地记着:亲爱的劳拉,请在方便的时候回来。途中在姑妈家过夜。听说玛丽安病了,我非常难过。爱你的叔叔,弗雷德里克·费尔利。

“格莱德夫人没有再继续争下去,我们两人回到楼上。我觉得这样做很明智,哈尔库姆小姐,我不明白格莱德夫人为什么那么害怕福斯科伯爵。她在房间里走来走去,轻声自言自语:‘可怜的玛丽安——落到那个可怕的人手里!我一定要找到她,哪怕是到福斯科伯爵家里也要找到她。’

“第二天,我帮格莱德夫人准备好一切,陪她来到车站。‘如果玛丽安已经回利默里奇了,我就不住在伯爵家,’她告诉我,‘我会去找维西夫人,我原来的家庭教师。”火车开的时候,透过车窗我看到她苍白、恐慌的脸。我很为她难过。

“然后我回到这儿,竟然看到鲁贝尔太太在花园散步,哈尔库姆小姐,你知道我有多么惊讶!‘怎么在这儿?’我问,‘你不是和福斯科伯爵一家还有哈尔库姆小姐去伦敦了嘛!’后来事情慢慢都清楚了。你还在庄园。趁我去托基的时候,他们把你搬到了庄园里一个没人住的房间藏起来了。他们搬动你的时候,你肯定在昏睡。也许他们给你吃了药——我不清楚。这时,珀西瓦尔爵士过来给了我如下的解释。他说这一切都是为了他妻子好,她需要换个环境,假如她知道你还在庄园,是不会去利默里奇的。他说话时怒气冲冲的,我没敢说什么。

“你看,哈尔库姆小姐,这就是可怜的格莱德夫人受骗的经过。多么恶毒、多么不近人情。我本来要马上辞职的,但是珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我,鲁贝尔太太要走了,要是我也走的话,就没人照顾你了。这不,我就又留了下来。珀西瓦尔爵士是昨晚离开的,我刚才告诉过你。听园丁说,他跟疯了似的。他吩咐准备马车,然后仿佛落荒而逃的囚犯般驾车走了,嘴里还说什么这个家像个监狱,他再也不想回来了。我真的希望,哈尔库姆小姐,我再也不会见到那个人了。”

可怜的劳拉——她肯定受了很多罪!我现在一点儿办法也没有,也无法去追她,我现在虚弱得站都站不起来。我真的希望劳拉能够发现这个骗局,尽快地给我写信,告诉我她平安无事。

*  *  *

几天后来了一封信,但不是给我的,也不是劳拉写来的,而是福斯科夫人写给米切尔森太太的。

米切尔森太太拿着那封信走进我的房间,后面跟着道森先生,他同意继续为我看病,因为伯爵已经走了。我看到他们两人的神色,从床上坐起来,心里很害怕。

“出了什么事?”我急切地问,“你们有可怕的消息要告诉我。我从你们的脸上能看出来。”

米切尔森太太在我的床边坐下,握住我的手。“你那可怜的、亲爱的妹妹,格莱德夫人……”她说。

我的周围变得一团漆黑,就像夜色降临一样,下面的话似乎是从很遥远的地方传来的。

“……她到伦敦的姑妈家以后就病倒了,第二天就死了,死得非常突然。她将被安葬在利默里奇,她母亲的墓地。”

*  *  *

我又病倒了,好心的米切尔森太太在道森先生的帮助下精心地照顾我。三个多星期的时间里,我都无法出门旅行。但我终于恢复了体力,离开了那个令人憎恨的庄园,回到利默里奇。米切尔森太太和我一同来到伦敦,我去见了克尔先生,向他讲述了我心中对妹妹死因的怀疑。他对这件事很关心,答应为我调查。

我到利默里奇几天后,克尔先生的信也寄到了那里。他从几个证人那里获得了证词,他相信没有任何可疑的事发生。他把证词的副本寄给了我。下面是福斯科的厨师赫斯特·平霍恩太太的笔录:


我是最近受雇于福斯科伯爵夫妇的,他们住在圣约翰伍德,弗雷斯特街5号。快7月底的一天,伯爵夫人的侄女,格莱德夫人来到伯爵家。她很快就病了。我看见她躺在沙发上,脸色苍白。我跑去叫医生,找来了古德里克先生。他给她做了检查,说她得了严重的心脏病。当天夜里,她病情加重。大约第二天早上5点,她失去了知觉。医生进来,用手摸了摸她的胸口,说她已经死了。医生说,因为伯爵是外国人,所以他得亲自到地区办公室报告人口死亡。福斯科伯爵夫妇对格莱德夫人的死非常伤心。格莱德夫人的丈夫在国外,因此他们安排了葬礼的有关事宜,葬礼安排在坎伯兰郡举行。


由于长时间生病,我现在还非常虚弱,此时绝望几乎将我击垮。我找不到什么朋友可以倾诉,茫然不知下面该如何是好。每天我都去教堂墓地,去给劳拉的墓献花,一遍又一遍地读着那些令我心碎的文字。


爱妻劳拉·格莱德之墓

生于1829年3月27日

卒于1850年7月25日

汉普郡布莱克沃特庄园

珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士立

5.A document for signature

PART TWO
THE STORY TOLD BY MARIAN HALCOMBE
第二部分 玛丽安·哈尔库姆的讲述

4
Arrangements for a marriage

It was a sad day when Walter Hartright left us. Laura stayed in her room all day, and I felt sad and depressed. Poor Mr Gilmore must have had a dull time, and the next morning, when Laura reappeared looking pale and ill, I thought he seemed rather anxious about her. I was anxious too. Laura is such a sensitive and loving person that it was no surprise to me to find that she had grown fond of Walter. Indeed, I have grown fond of him myself. But I honestly believe that time will cure Laura of these feelings.

Two days after Walter left, Sir Percival Glyde arrived. He is forty-five years old but seems younger. He is handsome, and only a little bald, has perfect manners, and is pleasant, agreeable, and respectful. I really must try to like him.

In the afternoon, while Laura was out of the room, Sir Percival referred to Anne Catherick's letter.

'I read Mr Gilmore's letter to my lawyer,' he said, 'and I want to give you a full explanation. Mrs Catherick, you see, worked for me and my family for many years. Her marriage was unfortunate, in that her husband deserted her, and her only child, a girl, became mentally ill and needed to be put in an asylum. So, in recognition of Mrs Catherick's services, I agreed to pay the expenses of a private asylum for the girl. Unfortunately, the girl discovered this and consequently developed a hatred for me. She recently escaped from the asylum and I'm sure she wrote this letter because of her hatred for me. It's all very sad.'

Mr Gilmore found this explanation perfectly satisfactory, and said so. He then looked at me for agreement, but I was struggling with a sense of unease that I could not explain, and hesitated before answering. Sir Percival noticed this at once.

'May I beg you, Miss Halcombe,' he said politely, 'to write to Mrs Catherick to ask if these facts are true?'

I did not want to agree to this, but how could I refuse, without making the situation even more embarrassing than it already was? So I went to the desk, wrote a note, and gave it to him. Without looking at it, he put it in an envelope and wrote the address.

'Now that is done,' he said, 'may I ask if Anne Catherick spoke to Miss Fairlie, or to you?'

'No. She spoke to nobody except Mr Hartright,' I replied.

'Ah, yes, the drawing teacher,' he said thoughtfully. 'And did you discover where Anne Catherick was staying?'

I described the farm to him.

'It is my duty to try to find her,' he continued. 'Tomorrow I will go to this farm and make enquiries.' Soon afterwards he left to go up to his room.

*  *  *

That evening and the next day Sir Percival took every opportunity to bring Laura into the conversation, but she hardly took any notice. He went to the farm to make his enquiries about Anne Catherick, but learnt nothing. Then on Wednesday a letter came from Mrs Catherick — a short, business-like letter, thanking me for my note and saying that everything Sir Percival had told me was completely correct.

Why did I still have doubts? This, surely, was enough proof for anyone, but how I wished that Walter Hartright had been there to give his opinion! At Sir Percival's request I now had to give Laura his explanation of Anne Catherick's letter. She listened quietly and showed no emotion, but I noticed that on the table near her hand was the little book of Hartright's drawings. I also had to tell her that the reason for Sir Percival's visit was to fix the day of their marriage.

'I'm afraid he will ask you to decide quite soon, Laura.'

'Oh no, Marian! I can't do that!' she said. 'Please ask him, beg him, to allow me more time. I promise to give him a final answer before the end of the year, but not yet, please, not yet.'

Sir Percival agreed to this request, and when Mr Gilmore heard about it, he arranged to have a private talk with Laura.

'I have to return to London tomorrow,' he said to me, 'and I need to discuss the financial side of this marriage with Miss Fairlie before I go. As you know, she will inherit a great deal of money and property when she becomes twenty-one next March, and I must include all this in the marriage agreement in a way that reflects Miss Fairlie's own wishes, and is also acceptable to Sir Percival.'

He had the meeting with Laura the next morning, and in the afternoon he left for London, looking rather sad and thoughtful. Wondering what had been said, I hurried up to Laura's room.

'Oh, Marian, come in,' she said. 'I need to talk to you.'

'What is it, Laura? Is it about the marriage agreement?'

'No. I couldn't even bear to discuss that with Mr Gilmore. I'm ashamed to say that all I could do was cry. He was very kind and good, Marian, and he said that he would look after everything for me. No, what I wanted to tell you was this. I cannot bear the situation any longer. I must end it.'

Her eyes were bright and she spoke with great energy. I began to feel alarmed. 'What do you wish to do, Laura darling? Do you want to be released from your promise to marry Sir Percival?'

'No,' she said simply. 'I cannot break my promise to my father. But I want to tell the truth, and I will confess to Sir Percival that I love someone else.'

'Laura! He has no right to know that!' I said in amazement.

'I cannot deceive him,' she said. 'I have thought it over carefully. After I have told him, let him do as he wishes.'

I looked into her innocent, loving eyes and could say nothing. I just put my arms around her, trying not to cry myself.

'May I speak to him tomorrow, in your presence, Marian?'

I held her tight and agreed — though I was not sure I was doing the right thing. Indeed, I was not sure of anything. I could not understand how I had failed to see how deeply she loved Walter Hartright. For the first time in my life I had made a mistake about her. Now I realized that she would love him all her life.

*  *  *

The first thing that happened the next morning did nothing to make me feel more cheerful. A letter arrived for me from poor Walter Hartright. He had decided to leave England and asked me if I could help him find employment abroad. I was then alarmed to read that since his return to London he had neither seen nor heard anything of Anne Catherick, but suspected he had been watched and followed by strange men. I was worried about his state of mind, so I immediately wrote to some friends in London to ask if they could help him find a suitable job in another country. Laura, of course, knew nothing about these letters.

Sir Percival did not join us for breakfast, but sent a message, saying he would meet us at eleven o'clock, as arranged. Laura seemed calm and unusually self-controlled. I had never seen her like this. It was almost as if love had created a new force in her character.

At exactly eleven Sir Percival knocked and entered, with anxiety and worry in every line of his face. This meeting would decide his future life, and he obviously knew it.

'You may wonder, Sir Percival,' said Laura calmly, 'if I am going to ask to be released from my promise to marry you. I am not going to ask this. I respect my father's wishes too much.'

His face relaxed a little, but I saw one of his feet nervously beating the carpet.

'No, if we are going to withdraw from our planned marriage, it will be because of your wish, Sir Percival, not mine.'

'Mine?' he said in great surprise. 'What reason could I have for withdrawing?'

'A reason that is very hard to tell you,' she answered. 'There is a change in me.'

His face went so pale that even his lips lost their colour. He turned his head to one side.

'What change?' he asked, trying to hide his nervousness.

'When the promise was made two years ago,' she said, 'my love did not belong to anyone. Will you forgive me, Sir Percival, if I tell you that it now belongs to another person?'

Her tears started to fall, and Sir Percival hid his face behind his hand, so that it was impossible to know what he was thinking. He made no answer, and my temper got the better of me.

'Sir Percival!' I said sharply. 'Have you nothing to say? You have already heard more than you have a right to hear.'

'But I didn't ask for that right,' he said, avoiding my question.

'I wish you to understand,' Laura continued, 'that I will never see this person again, and that if you leave me, you only allow me to remain a single woman for the rest of my life. All I ask is that you forgive me and keep my secret.'

'I will do both those things,' he said. Then he looked at Laura, as if he was waiting to hear more.

'I think I have said enough to give you reason to withdraw from our marriage,' she added quietly.

'No. You have said enough to make it the dearest wish of my life to marry you,' he said, getting up and advancing towards her.

Laura gave a cry of surprise, but I had more than half expected this. Every word she had spoken had shown her honesty and her innocence, but these fine qualities had destroyed her own hopes of a release. Sir Percival understood very well the priceless value of a pure and true woman. Why would he give her up now?

'I will do everything I can to earn your love,' he said, 'and perhaps in time I will win it.'

'Never!' she answered, looking more beautiful than ever. 'I will be your true and loyal wife, but never your loving wife.'

'That is enough for me. I accept your loyalty and your truth,' he said, then raised her hand to his lips and silently left the room.

Laura sat without moving. I put my arm around her. At last she said,' I must resign myself, Marian. If you write to Walter, don't tell him how unhappy I am. And if I die first, please say to him, say what I could never say myself — say I loved him!'

Then she threw herself on the sofa and cried as if her heart was breaking, until at last she fell asleep.

*  *  *

In the days that followed it seemed that nothing could prevent this miserable marriage from taking place. I tried to make Laura change her mind, but she was determined to keep her promise, and to do her duty. Mr Fairlie was, of course, very happy that the 'family worry' was now at an end and suggested that the sooner his niece got married the better. This made me very angry, but when I told Laura, I was surprised by her calm reply.

'My uncle is right. I have caused trouble and anxiety to everyone. Let Sir Percival decide on the day for our marriage.'

Sir Percival was delighted by this news, and he then left to prepare for the bride's reception at his house in Hampshire.

I thought that a change would do Laura good, so I arranged for us both to go and stay with some friends in Yorkshire. She passively agreed with my idea. I also wrote to Mr Gilmore, telling him this marriage would now take place.

The next day I received a letter from Walter Hartright, saying that my friends had got him a job on an expedition to Central America. He was going to be the artist for the expedition. He was leaving on 21st November and would be away for six months. I could only hope that this was for the best.

Laura and I then departed for Yorkshire but after only nine days there we received a letter from Mr Fairlie, calling us back to Limmeridge immediately. What could this mean, I wondered?

I found out as soon as we arrived. Mr Fairlie and Sir Percival had agreed on 22nd December for the wedding, provided that Laura also agreed. Would I please persuade her, said Mr Fairlie. His nerves were much too bad to talk to her himself.

I also found our old friend Mr Gilmore, who had come to talk to Mr Fairlie about the marriage agreement. He was leaving that day, and was anxious to speak to me alone before he left.

'I am not at all happy about the financial arrangements in the agreement, Miss Halcombe,' he said, 'but there is nothing I can do about it. I know how fond you are of your sister and I think you ought to know why I am concerned.

'As you will know,' he went on, 'there are three parts to Miss Fairlie's inheritance. Firstly, on Mr Fairlie's death, she will inherit the Limmeridge property and land, and the income from it. If she dies childless, this property will go to a cousin, but the income from it will go to her husband during his lifetime. If she has a son, everything — property and income — will go to the son. No problems there.

'Secondly, when Miss Fairlie reaches the age of twenty-one next March, she will receive the income from £10,000. This £10,000 will go to her aunt Eleanor, if Miss Fairlie dies before her aunt — which is not very likely. The reason Miss Fairlie's father did not leave the £10,000 to his sister Eleanor on his death was that he disapproved strongly of her marriage to a foreigner, even though the man was an Italian nobleman, Count Fosco.'

'Yes, Laura has told me about that,' I said.

'Well,' Mr Gilmore went on, 'there are no problems there either. But the third part of Miss Fairlie's inheritance is more difficult. Next March she will also inherit £20,000, which will be her own money completely. If she dies before her husband, the income from the £20,000 will go to Sir Percival for his lifetime, and the capital will go to their children. If there are no children to inherit the capital, Miss Fairlie can choose relations and friends to inherit the money when she dies. That's what I proposed, but Sir Percival's lawyer did not accept it. He insists that if Sir Percival survives his wife and there are no children, Sir Percival should receive the capital. In that case, nothing will go to any other member of the family, including you, Miss Halcombe.'

Mr Gilmore sighed deeply. 'I protested strongly. I tried every argument I could, but nothing would change the lawyer's mind. I've discovered, you see, that Sir Percival is always in debt and always in need of cash. My last effort has been to come here, to try and persuade Mr Fairlie to oppose this demand from Sir Percival's lawyer. I am sorry to say I have not succeeded. Mr Fairlie wishes to avoid all responsibility for his niece's marriage arrangements. He says that his niece will not die before Sir Percival anyway, so what is there to worry about?'

Mr Gilmore stood up to go and picked up his hat. 'I shall complete the agreement and send it in. I have no choice. If I don't do it, Mr Fairlie will find another lawyer who will. But I tell you, Miss Halcombe, no daughter of mine should be married to any man alive under such an agreement as I am forced to make for Miss Fairlie.'

With that, he shook my hand, and without another word he went away to catch his train back to London.

After he had gone, I tried to be sensible. Mr Fairlie was Laura's guardian and if he chose to accept this agreement, there was nothing I could do about it. It was just one more worry about this dreadful marriage. A more immediate worry was the date of the wedding. When I told Laura, she turned pale and trembled.

'Not so soon!' she cried. 'Oh, Marian, not so soon!'

'Well, let me speak to Mr Fairlie, then,' I said, ready to fight for her. 'I will try to change it.'

'No,' she said faintly. 'Too late, Marian, too late! It will only make more trouble. Please tell my uncle I agree.'

I think I would have cried if I had not been so angry. I rushed into Mr Fairlie's room and shouted loudly, 'Laura agrees to the twenty-second' — and rushed out again, banging the door noisily. I hoped I had destroyed his nerves for the whole day.

*  *  *

After this the wedding preparations began. The dressmakers came and went all the time; there was packing, and planning, and all kinds of arrangements to make. We heard every day from Sir Percival. After the wedding he proposed to take Laura to Italy for six months. They would meet a number of Sir Percival's friends there, including his best and oldest friend, Count Fosco, whose wife, of course, was Laura's Aunt Eleanor. At least this marriage would bring Laura and her aunt together again, I thought. The Count himself sounded a most interesting person, and I rather hoped that I would meet him one day.

All too quickly the days passed. Sir Percival arrived, looking a little tired and anxious but talking and laughing like the happiest of men. The evening after he arrived he went off to the village to ask if anyone had any news of Anne Catherick. No one had heard anything, but I had to admit that it was good of him to continue to try to help her. I have decided to try and think better of him. After all, what reason do I have to distrust him? I am sure that I could like him if I really tried.

It is getting quite easy to like him. Today I spoke to him about the dearest wish of both Laura and myself — that I should be able to live with Laura after her marriage, just as I had always lived with her before. He agreed instantly and seemed delighted with the plan. I would be the ideal, the perfect companion for his wife, he said. Yes, I am beginning to like Sir Percival very much.

*  *  *

I hate Sir Percival! He has no sensitivity, no kindness, no good feeling. Last night he whispered something in Laura's ear — she has refused to tell me what it was — and her face turned white with misery. He took no notice at all, and all my suspicions of him have returned. Is he now showing his true character? He seems more restless and nervous than before, and is often sharp and bad-tempered. I have this strange idea that something might happen to prevent the marriage — and that he is afraid of that. A foolish thought. I must forget it.

As the day of our separation grows nearer, Laura cannot bear to have me out of her sight. I must be brave and cheerful, for her sake, but my fear will not go away. Will this marriage be the one terrible mistake of her life, and the one hopeless sorrow of mine?

*  *  *

It is the twenty-second. No more time for tears. Laura is dressed, and we leave for the church. By eleven o'clock they are married. By three o'clock they are gone. I am blind with crying and can write no more...


cure v. restore to health 治愈

respectful adj. showing deference 有礼貌的

desert v. abandon 抛弃

private adj. independent; not connected with government, public service, etc. 私立的

hesitate v. show or feel uncertainty or indecision 犹豫

embarrassing adj. causing to feel awkward or self-conscious or ashamed 令人难堪的;使人尴尬的

thoughtfully adv. engaged in or given to meditation 沉思地;若有所思地

business-like adj. serious, formal 正式的

emotion n. a strong mental or instinctive feeling 情感

inherit v. receive by legal descent or succession 继承

presence n. the state or condition of being present 在场

release v. set free; liberate 解除

withdraw v. discontinue, cancel 撤出;退出

advance v. move forward 向前走

destroy v. spoil utterly 破坏

in time eventually 最终

loyal adj. true, faithful 忠贞的

resign v. give up 退让

passively adv. offering no objection 被动地;不反对

expedition n. a journey for a particular purpose 为特别目的的旅行

provided conj. on the condition that 只要

likely adj. probable 可能的

disapprove v. have or express an unfavourable opinion 反对

capital n. money used to produce more wealth 资金

protest v. make a protest against an action or proposal 抗议;反对

dreadful adj. terrible, inspiring fear or awe 可怕的

bang v. shut noisily 用力关上

distrust v. have no trust or confidence in, doubt 不相信;怀疑

instantly adv. occurring immediately 立即;即刻

ideal adj. perfect, excellent 最好的

4.准备婚事

沃尔特·哈特里特先生离开的那天,我们都很难过。劳拉一整天呆在自己的房间里不出来,我的心情也很沉闷。可怜的吉尔摩先生肯定觉得那天很无聊。第二天早晨,劳拉从房间出来的时候,面容憔悴,像是病了一场。我觉得吉尔摩先生似乎很为她担心,我也为她担心。劳拉是个敏感而深情的人,她喜欢上沃尔特我一点儿也不觉得奇怪。其实,我自己也喜欢他。但是,我真心希望时间能够治愈劳拉的情伤。

沃尔特离开两天以后,珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士来了。他45岁,但看上去比实际年龄要年轻一些。他很英俊,稍有些秃顶,举止优雅,温和有礼。我尽力让自己对这个人产生好感。

下午,劳拉不在房里的时候,珀西瓦尔爵士提到了安妮·凯瑟里克的那封信。

“我看了吉尔摩先生给我律师的信,”他说,“我想跟你们好好地解释一下。凯瑟里克太太为我和我的家庭工作了许多年,她的婚姻很不幸,她丈夫抛弃了她,她的独生女精神有毛病,需要送进精神病院。所以,为了感谢凯瑟里克太太多年来的服务,我答应承担送她女儿去一家私立精神病院的所有费用。但不幸的是,女孩知道以后,就开始对我怀恨在心。她不久前从精神病院逃走了,我敢肯定是她出于对我的仇恨写了这封信。这太让人伤心了。”

吉尔摩先生认为这个解释非常令人满意,他说完看了看我,希望我也同意他的说法。可是,我有一种说不清的不安的感觉,犹豫了一会儿,没有说话。珀西瓦尔爵士立刻注意到了我的反应。

“哈尔库姆小姐,能否请你给凯瑟里克太太写封信,问问她这些是不是真的呢?”他非常客气地说。

我不想答应他的要求,但是又怎么好拒绝呢?拒绝只能把事情弄得越来越尴尬。于是,我走到桌旁,写了封短信,然后交给了珀西瓦尔。他看也没看就把信装进信封,写上了地址。

“好了,这件事就这样了,”他说,“请问安妮·凯瑟里克跟费尔利小姐或者你谈过吗?”

“没有。她只跟哈特里特先生谈过。”我告诉他。

“噢,是了,那位绘画教师,”他若有所思地说,“你们找到安妮·凯瑟里克的住处了吗?”

我跟他讲了农场的情况。

“找到她是我的责任,”他接着说,“明天我就去农场问问。”不一会儿,他就上楼回他的房间去了。

*  *  *

那天晚上以及第二天,珀西瓦尔爵士努力寻找一切机会同劳拉讲话,但劳拉一直心不在焉。珀西瓦尔去农场调查,结果一无所获。星期三凯瑟里克太太来信了,那是一封简短而又正式的信。信中感谢我给她写信,并且说珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我的都是事实。

为什么我还是有疑问呢?这封信对谁来讲都是充分的证据,可我还是很希望沃尔特·哈特里特先生能在这儿发表一下他的看法。应珀西瓦尔爵士的要求,我得向劳拉解释一下安妮·凯瑟里克来信的事情。她静静地听着,脸上毫无表情。我注意到她手边的桌上放着哈特里特先生的画册。我还得告诉她,珀西瓦尔爵士此行的目的是要确定他们结婚的日期。

“恐怕他会让你马上做决定,劳拉。”

“噢,不行,玛丽安!我不能!”她说,“请帮我问问他,恳求他再给我些时间。我保证年底以前给他最终的答复,但是现在不行,现在不行。”

珀西瓦尔爵士答应了这个要求。吉尔摩先生得知事情的经过后,准备同劳拉单独谈谈。

“我明天必须回伦敦去,”吉尔摩先生对我说,“走之前,我需要和费尔利小姐谈一下这桩婚事的财务问题。你知道,明年3月她21岁的时候,她会继承一大笔财产,我必须把这些都写进结婚协议中去,让协议既能反映费尔利小姐的愿望,也能令珀西瓦尔爵士接受。”

转天上午,吉尔摩先生和劳拉谈了话。下午,他动身去伦敦时,看上去忧心忡忡。不知道他们都说了些什么,我连忙赶去劳拉的房间。

“噢,玛丽安,快进来,我有话跟你说。”劳拉说。

“出了什么事,劳拉?是结婚协议的事吗?”

“不是。我简直没办法跟吉尔摩先生谈这件事。我真不好意思说出口,刚才我只是一个劲儿地哭,什么也没说。吉尔摩先生非常善良,玛丽安,他告诉我,他会帮我打理一切。我现在要告诉你的是,我再也受不了这种局面了,我必须结束这种状况。”

她的眼睛很亮,语气也很坚决。我感到有些害怕,“你想要做什么,亲爱的劳拉?你要解除同珀西瓦尔爵士的婚约吗?”

“不是的,”她回答,“我不能打破对父亲的承诺。但是,我要说出真话,我要告诉珀西瓦尔爵士我爱上了别人。”

“劳拉!他无权知道这件事!”我惊讶地说。

“我不能欺骗他,”她说,“我已经想好了。我把真相告诉他,让他决定该怎么办。”

我看着她纯洁、深情的眼神,一句话也说不出来。我伸手抱住她,尽量控制自己不哭出来。

“明天我就跟他说,你跟我去,好吗,玛丽安?”

我紧紧地抱着她,答应了她的请求——我也不清楚自己做的是对是错。我对什么都没了把握。我不明白为什么我没发觉她爱沃尔特·哈特里特爱得那么深。我第一次对她做出了错误的判断。现在我知道,她会一辈子爱着他。

*  *  *

第二天早晨发生的事让我一点儿也高兴不起来,可怜的沃尔特·哈特里特来信说他决定离开英国,问我能否帮他在国外找份工作。信后面的内容使我非常担心。他回伦敦以后,既没有见到安妮·凯瑟里克,也没有打听到她的任何消息,反而觉得有陌生人在盯他的梢。我担心他情绪不稳,赶忙给几个在伦敦的朋友写信,看他们能不能帮他在国外找到一份合适的工作。当然,劳拉对信的事一无所知。

珀西瓦尔爵士没有来同我们一起吃早餐,他捎话给我们说他会按约定11点来见我们。劳拉超乎寻常的冷静、镇定。我从未见她这样过,好像爱情使她更坚强了。

11点整,珀西瓦尔爵士敲门进来。他满脸紧张和不安。这次谈话将会决定他今后的生活,他显然非常清楚这一点。

“你可能会认为我是来请求与你解除婚约的,珀西瓦尔爵士,”劳拉冷静地说,“我不是来做这样的请求的,我非常尊重父亲的意愿。”

珀西瓦尔爵士的表情放松了一些,但我看到他的一只脚在紧张地敲打着地毯。

“我不会那样做的,如果我们两人要解除婚约的话,那一定是出于你的意愿,珀西瓦尔爵士,而不会是我的。”

“我的意愿?”他吃惊地说,“我能有什么理由解除婚约呢?”

“一个很难向你启齿的理由,我这里有了些变故。”劳拉回答。

珀西瓦尔的脸色变得煞白,双唇一点儿血色都没有。他把脸转向一侧。

“什么变故?”他尽量掩饰着自己的紧张。

“两年前约定婚事的时候,我的爱不属于任何人,”劳拉接着说,“如果我告诉你,珀西瓦尔爵士,我的爱现在属于另一个人,你会原谅我吗?”

她的眼泪流了下来。珀西瓦尔爵士用手捂住了脸,让人看不出他是怎么想的。他一句话也不说,我的直脾气可受不了了。

“珀西瓦尔爵士!”我大声问道,“你不想说点儿什么吗?你已经听到了本来你无权听到的事情。”

“可我并没有要求这权利。”他回避了我的问题。

“我想告诉你,”劳拉继续说,“我再也见不到那个人了。如果你和我分手,我会终身不嫁。我只请求你原谅我,并为我保守秘密。”

“两件事我都答应。”珀西瓦尔说完,看了看劳拉,似乎等着她再说些什么。

“我想我已经讲了足够的理由让你解除婚约。”劳拉平静地说。

“不,你说了这么多,我唯一的感觉是我一生最大的愿望就是同你结婚。”说着,他起身朝劳拉走过来。

劳拉惊讶得“咦”了一声,我倒是猜到了几分他会这么说。劳拉讲的每一句话都透出她的真诚和纯洁,但是这样良好的品德却毁掉了她解脱的希望。珀西瓦尔爵士很清楚,一个纯洁、真诚的女人是无价之宝。他为什么要放弃呢?

“我会尽一切所能去赢得你的爱,也许最终我会成功的。”珀西瓦尔说。

“永远也不会的!”劳拉看上去更美了,“我会是你忠实的妻子,但永远不会爱你。”

“这就足够了。我愿意接受你的忠贞和真诚。”说罢,他拿起劳拉的手吻了吻,然后默默地走出房间。

劳拉坐在那里一动不动,我伸出手搂住她。最后她开口道:“我必须退让,玛丽安。你给沃尔特写信时,不要告诉他我不开心。假如我比他先死了,你一定对他说,说我不能亲口对他说的话——我爱他!”

说完,她扑在沙发上放声痛哭,哭得好像心都碎了一样,最后她趴在那儿睡着了。

*  *  *

接下来的日子里,好像什么也阻止不了这桩不幸的婚姻。我力图让劳拉改变主意,但她却坚持要恪守诺言,履行义务。费尔利先生自然非常高兴,因为这场“家庭烦恼”终于画上了句号。他建议他的侄女越早结婚越好。这令我很气愤,但我把这话告诉劳拉后,她的平静反应倒让我吃了一惊。

“叔叔说的对,我给大家带来了太多麻烦。让珀西瓦尔爵士决定我们的结婚日期吧。”

珀西瓦尔爵士对此非常高兴,他离开庄园回汉普郡,准备迎接新娘。

我想换一个环境肯定对劳拉有好处,于是安排我们两人到约克郡的朋友那里呆一段时间。她同意了。我还给吉尔摩先生写了信,告诉他这桩婚事可以继续了。

第二天,我收到了沃尔特·哈特里特的来信,信中说我的朋友为他找到一份工作,要到中美洲长途旅行,他做随行的画家,11月21号动身,行程6个月。我衷心希望这是最好的安排。

劳拉和我动身前往约克郡。但是,刚刚在那里住了9天,我们就收到费尔利先生的信,让我们立即返回利默里奇。这意味着什么呢,我想不出。

一回来我就明白了。费尔利先生和珀西瓦尔爵士已经把婚礼的时间定在12月22日,就等劳拉点头同意了。费尔利先生问我可不可以说服劳拉同意这个日期,他本人神经不好,无法跟她谈。

我见到了我们的老朋友吉尔摩先生,他是来同费尔利先生谈有关结婚协议的事的。他当天就要离开庄园,着急想与我单独谈谈。

“哈尔库姆小姐,我对结婚协议中的财务安排非常不满意,”他对我说,“但是我一点儿办法也没有。我知道你多么爱你的妹妹,所以我认为你应该知道我为什么担心。

“你知道,”他接着说,“费尔利小姐继承的财产包括三部分。第一,费尔利先生死后,她会继承利默里奇的财产和土地以及由此产生的收入。如果她死后没有孩子,这份财产将转到她的一个亲戚名下,但财产的收入在她丈夫在世的时候将归他所有。如果她有个儿子,所有的财产和收入都归她的儿子。这一点没有任何问题。

“第二,明年3月费尔利小姐21岁的时候,她将得到10,000英镑的收入。如果费尔利小姐在她姑妈埃莉诺之前死去,这笔钱就归她姑妈,这当然不大可能。费尔利小姐的父亲之所以死的时候没有把这10,000英镑留给他的妹妹埃莉诺,是因为他强烈反对她嫁给一个外国人,虽然那个人是位意大利贵族,福斯科伯爵。”

“是的,劳拉跟我说过这件事。”我说。

“好吧,”吉尔摩先生接着说,“这一部分也没有问题。可是第三部分就不那么简单了。明年3月,她还将继承20,000英镑,这完全是属于她个人的一笔钱。如果她先于她丈夫死去,从这20,000英镑获得的收入将属于珀西瓦尔爵士,直至他去世;而这20,000英镑本金将归他们的孩子所有。假如没有孩子继承这笔钱,费尔利小姐死的时候,可以选择亲属或朋友继承。这是我的建议。但是,珀西瓦尔爵士的律师拒不接受这一点,他坚持认为,如果珀西瓦尔爵士死在他妻子后面,同时他们又没有孩子,珀西瓦尔就应该得到这笔钱。那样的话,费尔利家族的任何其他人,包括你在内,都得不到一分钱,哈尔库姆小姐。”

吉尔摩先生长叹了一口气,“我坚决反对这样。我极力争取,但还是无法让那位律师改变主意。我发现珀西瓦尔爵士长期欠债,急需现金。我最后的努力就是来这里试图说服费尔利先生反对珀西瓦尔爵士律师的要求,非常遗憾,我没有成功。对他侄女的这桩婚事费尔利先生什么也不想管。他说他侄女不会死在珀西瓦尔爵士前面的,又有什么可担心的呢?”

吉尔摩先生站起身,拿起帽子准备离开,“我会把协议拟好,并把它寄给你们。我没别的办法,我不这样做,费尔利先生也会再找一名律师这样做的。不过,我跟你说,哈尔库姆小姐,我是不会让我女儿根据我被迫为费尔利小姐准备的这样一份协议嫁人的。”

说完,他握了握我的手,一言不发地离开这里,去赶回伦敦的火车了。

吉尔摩先生走后,我尽量保持理智。费尔利先生是劳拉的监护人,如果他愿意接受这份协议,我做什么都无济于事。这是这桩可怕婚姻的又一个令人担忧的地方。现在更紧迫的事情是结婚日期。我把结婚的日期告诉劳拉以后,她的脸色立刻变白了,身体也开始发抖。

alt

“不要这么快!”她喊道,“噢,玛丽安,不要这么快!”

“好吧,那我去和费尔利先生说,”我这样说着,已经做好了为她去抗争的准备,“我会尽力去改变这个日期。”

“算了吧,”她有气无力地说,“一切都太晚了,玛丽安,太晚了!抗争只能带来更多的麻烦。去告诉我叔叔,我同意了。”

我要不是气愤至极,肯定就会哭出声来。我冲进费尔利先生的房间,大声喊道:“劳拉同意22日结婚!”——然后冲出去,很响地甩上门。但愿我能让他的神经一整天都不得安宁。

*  *  *

这以后,婚礼的准备工作开始了。整天都有裁缝进进出出;要收拾行李,做计划,进行各种安排。我们每天都能收到珀西瓦尔爵士的来信,他提议婚礼之后带劳拉到意大利住六个月,见一些珀西瓦尔的朋友,包括他最好的老朋友福斯科伯爵。福斯科伯爵的妻子当然就是劳拉的姑妈埃莉诺。这桩婚姻起码可以让劳拉和她的姑妈重逢,我这样想着。听起来伯爵本人倒是一个非常有趣的人,我也想有朝一日能见见他。

日子很快地过去了。珀西瓦尔爵士终于来了。他看上去有些疲倦和不安,但是有说有笑的仿佛世界上最幸福的男人就是他。他来的当天晚上去了村子里,打听是否有人知道安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。虽然没人给他提供什么消息,但我必须承认他继续寻求帮助她,这是善举。我决定努力改变对他不好的看法,说到底,我有什么理由不信任他呢?我相信如果真的努力尝试,我可能会喜欢他的。

喜欢他是很容易的。今天我同他说起劳拉与我的最大愿望——在劳拉结婚之后,我和她还能像以前一样住在一起。他立刻就答应了,而且很高兴能有这样的安排。他说我将是他妻子最理想、最合适的陪伴。是啊,我开始非常喜欢珀西瓦尔爵士了。

*  *  *

我恨珀西瓦尔爵士!他不善解人意,缺乏同情心,没有好心肠。昨天晚上,他跟劳拉耳语了些什么——劳拉不愿告诉我具体内容——她的脸色变得非常难看。而他却一点儿没在意。我以前对他所有的怀疑又出现了。现在,他是不是露出了他的本来面目?他变得比以往更加焦躁不安,经常言语尖刻,发脾气。我有个奇怪的想法,是不是会有什么事阻止这桩婚姻,而又非常害怕那样的结局。这是胡思乱想,我不能当真。

我们分别的日子一天天临近了,劳拉一刻也不肯离开我。为了她,我必须勇敢些,高兴起来。但是,我的担心没有消失。这桩婚姻会成为劳拉一生的大错吗?会成为我伤心、痛苦的根源吗?

*  *  *

22日到了。时间到了,不能再哭了。劳拉梳妆打扮完毕,我们要去教堂了。11点钟,婚礼就会结束。下午3点,他们就离开这里了。我已经哭得视线模糊,无法继续写下去了……

5
A document for signature

Six long, lonely months passed, and I had little to do but think of absent friends. I received a cheerful letter from Walter Hartright after he arrived in Honduras, and just before he set off with the expedition into the forest. Since then, I have heard nothing. There was no news of Anne Catherick or Mrs Clements. Poor Mr Gilmore fell very ill and had to give up work, but his business is continued by his partner, Mr Kyrle. Mrs Vesey has moved to London to live with her sister, and Mr Fairlie, I believe, is secretly delighted to have his house free of women.

Most of all, of course, I thought about Laura. Many letters came from her, but she said very little in them. She told me she was well, but hardly mentioned her husband, and wrote not a word about Count Fosco, whom they had met in Austria, not Italy. I understood from her silence that she did not like him. All she said was that her Aunt Eleanor, Madame Fosco, was quieter and more sensible than she had used to be.

*  *  *

On 11th June I arrived at Blackwater Park, Sir Percival's family home in Hampshire. The waiting was nearly over, and how happy I was! The next day Laura and her husband would return home, together with Count Fosco and his wife, who were going to spend the summer at Blackwater.

In the morning the housekeeper, Mrs Michelson, showed me round the house. It is very old, and much of it is dusty and unused; only one part of the enormous building is comfortable enough to live in.

Later I explored the gardens and the park. The gardens are small and not well kept, and there are so many trees that the house feels shut in by them. I found a path through the trees, which after half a mile brought me to a lake. It was a damp, lonely place. The still dark waters of the lake and the long shadows from the tall trees gave it a gloomy air. Near the lake there was an old boat-house with some seats in it, so I went in and sat down for a rest.

I am not a nervous person generally but when I heard the sound of quick breathing under my seat, I jumped to my feet in alarm. In fact, it was a dog — a small black and white dog, with a bullet wound in its side. I carried the poor creature back to the house and sent for Mrs Michelson to help me.

When she came in and saw the dog lying on the floor, she cried out at once, 'Oh! That must be Mrs Catherick's dog!'

'Whose?' I asked, amazed.

'Mrs Catherick's. Do you know her? She came here to ask for news of her daughter.'

'When?'

'Yesterday. She'd heard that her daughter Anne had been seen in the neighbourhood. But no one knew anything. I suppose the dog ran away into the woods and got shot by the park-keeper.'

I tried to make my voice sound politely interested. 'I suppose you've known Mrs Catherick for some years?'

'Oh no, Miss Halcombe, I never saw her before. She lives at Welmingham, twenty-five miles away. I had heard of her, because of Sir Percival paying for her daughter to go to an asylum. But yesterday, Mrs Catherick asked me not to mention her visit to Sir Percival. That was an odd thing to say, wasn't it, Miss?'

Odd, indeed! But then we had to turn our attention to the poor dog, which, despite our efforts, died a little while later. It was a sad thing to happen on my first day at Blackwater.

*  *  *

Later that evening the travellers returned. After my first happiness at meeting Laura, I felt there was a strangeness between us and I realized she had changed. I was sure we would soon get back to normal, but she had lost her innocent openness. She was unwilling to talk about her married life, and I saw that there were no warm feelings between her husband and her. It wasn't long before she asked me about Walter — 'Have you heard from him? Is he well and happy?' — and it was clear to me that she loved him as deeply as ever.

As for Sir Percival, his manners are sharper and less pleasant. On meeting me he simply said, 'Hello, Miss Halcombe. Glad to see you again,' — and then walked past me. Little things seem to annoy him a great deal. For example, the housekeeper told him a man had called to speak to him a week ago but had left no name. Sir Percival demanded a description of the man, which poor Mrs Michelson was unable to give, and Sir Percival stormed out of the room in great anger.

Laura was certainly right about Madame Fosco. Never have I seen such a change in a woman. As Eleanor Fairlie (aged thirty-seven), she wore bright clothes, was silly and foolish, and always talked nonsense. As Madame Fosco (aged forty-three), she wears only grey or black, and sits for hours in silence, doing needlework, rolling up cigarettes for the Count, or just looking at him with the eyes of a loyal dog.

And the man who has achieved this extraordinary change, the man who has tamed this wild Englishwoman? Yes, what can I say about the Count? He looks like a man who could tame anything. If he had married me, I would have made his cigarettes, as his wife does. I would have held my tongue when he looked at me, as she holds hers.

How can I explain the power, the attraction, the force that comes from this man? There are many unlikeable or unattractive things about him. For example, he is enormously fat; he seems to have false hair; he is at least sixty years old. He is lazy, jumps at the slightest sudden sound, and has a peculiar fondness for pet animals. He has brought with him a variety of birds and a whole family of white mice, which he often kisses and calls loving names, just as a child might do.

And yet, and yet... He is fat, but moves lightly and easily, like a dancer. There is a calmness and a strength about his smooth, unlined face, and his voice is persuasive, gentle, hard to resist. His knowledge of the English language is perfect and he is a well-known expert in chemical science. He speaks in baby language to his white mice, but he talks with intelligence and charm about books in every language, and brings to his conversation experience of life in half the capitals of Europe.

But it is his eyes that I shall always remember — his cold, clear, beautiful grey eyes, eyes which held such a frightening power that I shiver even now to think of it.

I could discover very little about his past from Sir Percival. I only learnt that he had not been to Italy for years; I wondered if this was for political reasons. It seemed he had saved Sir Percival from great danger in Rome once and they had been the closest of friends ever since. It was quite clear that Sir Percival was always anxious to please him and would never go against his wishes.

I wonder whether I am afraid of him too. I certainly never saw a man I would be more sorry to have as an enemy.

*  *  *

At lunchtime, a few days after they all returned, a man called Mr Merriman arrived, asking to see Sir Percival urgently. Sir Percival had clearly not expected the visit and looked both alarmed and angry as he left the table.

Neither Laura nor I had any idea who Mr Merriman was, but the Count told us he was Sir Percival's lawyer. I wondered what had happened, as a lawyer does not usually travel from London to Hampshire unless sent for. Mr Merriman must be the bringer of important news — either good or bad.

Count Fosco obviously read my thoughts and said softly to me, 'Yes, Miss Halcombe, something has happened.'

Later in the day I was coming from my room when I saw Sir Percival and his lawyer crossing the hall downstairs. They spoke quietly, but clearly enough for their words to reach my ears.

'Yes, Sir Percival,' I heard the lawyer say, 'it all depends on Lady Glyde.'

I immediately stopped when I heard Laura's name and, although I knew it was wrong, continued to listen.

'You understand, Sir Percival, Lady Glyde must sign her name in the presence of two witnesses. If this is done in a week's time, everything will be all right. If not, I may be able to get them to accept a document promising payment in three months. But how that money is to be obtained by then... '

They went into the library and I heard no more, but it seemed that Sir Percival had a serious debt and that the solution to it depended on Laura. I immediately went to tell Laura what I had heard. She did not seem surprised.

'I was afraid of something like this,' she said, 'when I heard about that strange gentleman who called, without leaving his name. He had probably come to ask for his money. But don't worry, Marian. I won't sign anything that I might later regret.'

In the evening Sir Percival was unusually polite and pleasant to all of us. What did this mean? I thought I could guess — I was afraid Laura could guess — and I was sure Count Fosco knew. I saw Sir Percival looking at him for approval more than once during the evening. The Count was certainly aware of Sir Percival's financial problems.

The next morning Sir Percival asked Count Fosco, Laura, and myself if we would go to the library for a minute after lunch for a small business matter. Before lunch, however, we all went for a walk to the lake, stopping at the boat-house for a rest.

'Some people call the lake pretty,' said Sir Percival, pointing to the view. 'I call it ugly. It looks just the place for a murder, doesn't it? What do you think, Fosco?'

'My dear Percival,' the Count protested, 'the water is too shallow to hide a body. Only a fool would murder someone here. A wise man would choose somewhere else.'

'Wise men do not murder,' said Laura, looking at him with dislike. 'I am sure you cannot give me an example of a wise man who has been a criminal.'

'My dear lady,' said the Count, 'it is impossible to give an example, because a wise man's crime is never found out.'

As he spoke, he was playing with his white mice in their little cage, and suddenly noticed that one of them was missing. A few seconds later he found the little animal under a seat, but also found something which seemed to shock him.

'Percival,' he said, 'come here. Look at this in the sand. Blood!'

Everyone seemed alarmed, so I had to explain about the wounded dog I had found.

'Whose dog was it?' asked Sir Percival.

'The housekeeper said it was Mrs Catherick's dog,' I replied, remembering too late that the visit was meant to be kept secret.

'What the devil was Mrs Catherick doing here?'

This question came with such rudeness and anger that I turned away. Count Fosco laid his hand on Sir Percival's arm.

'My dear Percival! Gently, gently!'

To my great surprise, Sir Percival apologized to me, and Count Fosco then said, 'Why not question the housekeeper, Percival, since she seems to know all about it?'

Sir Percival took the point, and immediately left us to return to the house.

The Count seemed fascinated by Mrs Catherick and wanted to know all about her visit. I tried to say as little as possible, but Laura asked questions too, and in the end the Count knew as much as we did about Mrs Catherick and her daughter Anne. I was quite sure, from his surprise at the story, that the Count had known nothing of Anne Catherick, and uneasily I wondered why Sir Percival had not told his closest friend.

When we went back to the house, Sir Percival came to greet us. 'I am sorry to say I have to leave you. I have to drive a long way and won't be back until tomorrow. First, though, I would like to finish that little business matter. Will you come into the library? It won't take a minute.'

In the library he got a document out of a cupboard and put it on the table. It was folded in such a way that all the writing was hidden and only the places to sign were visible.

Handing a pen to Laura, he said, 'Sign there. You and Fosco are to sign afterwards, Miss Halcombe.'

'What do you want me to sign?' Laura asked quietly.

'I have no time to explain. I have to leave. It's just business,' he said angrily. 'Women don't understand business. Just sign it.'

'But surely I ought to know what I am signing.'

'I see. So you're saying you don't trust me! Is that it? What kind of a wife is that?'

To help Laura, I said, 'I am afraid I cannot be a witness if she doesn't understand what she is signing.'

Sir Percival turned to me furiously. 'How dare you! You're a guest in my house and you take my wife's side against me!'

'Control your unfortunate temper, Percival,' said the Count, and I heard him whisper to him, 'You idiot!'

But Laura had put the pen down and moved to my side.

'Lady Glyde is right,' the Count then said. 'Let the signature wait until tomorrow.'

Sir Percival swore at him, but moved away from the table.

'All right, then,' he said, 'until tomorrow. Anyway, I have to go. But you will sign tomorrow or —' He gave his wife a cold, hard stare, then went out.

As Laura and I moved to the door, the Count approached us. 'You have just seen Sir Percival at his worst,' he said. 'As his old friend, I apologize for him and promise he won't behave like that tomorrow.'

I had begun to realize that I could not hope to remain at Blackwater Park now without the influence and support of the Count, so I answered by thanking him warmly. Then I led Laura out and took her up to my room for a rest.

While we were there, she told me how cruel Sir Percival had been to her since their marriage and how unhappy she was. I tried to calm her and to find a solution to the problem of the signature. Suddenly I had the idea of writing to Mr Gilmore's partner, Mr Kyrle, and asking for his advice. In my letter I also asked him to get a messenger to bring the reply by one o'clock the next day. I then put the letter in the post-bag in the hall. Just at that moment Madame Fosco appeared and asked to speak to me in the garden. She spoke to me for a full half-hour about how much sympathy she had for me. I found this very odd indeed since she had shown very little interest in me before.

When I finally returned, I saw the Count also putting a letter in the post-bag. For some reason I decided to check my letter was properly closed, so I got it out of the bag. This was lucky, as I found the envelope had come open. How strange, I thought. Perhaps there had been something wrong with it...

Or perhaps...

No! There could be no other explanation.


absent adj. not present 不在场的

free of not containing or subject to 没有

enormous adj. very large, huge 非常大的

gloomy adj. dismal, depressing 阴暗的;阴郁的

creature n. an animal 动物

neighbourhood n. the surrounding area 附近

odd adj. extraordinary, strange 反常的;奇怪的

storm v. move violently or angrily 气愤地走

tame v. make tame 驯服

hold one's tongue be silent 不说话

enormously adv. very, quite 非常

frightening adj. terrifying 使人害怕的

go against be contrary to 反对

urgently adv. requiring immediate action or attention 急迫地

obtain v. acquire, secure 得到;获得

library n. a room containing a collection of books 书房

aware adj. conscious or having knowledge 清楚;知道

murder n. killing unlawfully with a premeditated motive 谋杀

rudeness n. being impolite or offensive 无礼

fascinated adj. showing great interest in 非常感兴趣的

fold v. bend or close something over upon itself 折叠

furiously adv. extremely angry 极度气愤地

swear v. use indecent language 骂人

stare n. a staring gaze

messenger n. a person who carries a message 信使

properly adv. fittingly; suitably 适当地

5.需要签字的文件

漫长、孤寂的六个月过去了。除去思念不在身边的朋友们,我无所事事。我收到一封沃尔特·哈特里特的来信,是他到达洪都拉斯,进入林地之前写的。从那以后,他就没有了任何消息。安妮·凯瑟里克和克莱门茨太太没有任何音信。可怜的吉尔摩先生病得很厉害,不得不停止工作。他的工作由他的合伙人克尔先生代理。维西太太搬到了伦敦,和她妹妹住在一起。我想费尔利先生一定暗自高兴这庄园里没有了女人。

我最思念的当然是劳拉。她来过许多信,但是内容都非常简单。她说她挺好的,却只字不提她丈夫,也不提福斯科伯爵。他们是在奥地利相见的,而不是在意大利。从她的沉默我看得出,她不喜欢他。她只是说到埃莉诺姑妈,就是福斯科夫人,比以前话少了,也更理智了。

*  *  *

6月11日,我来到布莱克沃特庄园,珀西瓦尔爵士在汉普郡的家。等待终于快结束了,我异常兴奋。第二天,劳拉同她丈夫就要回来了,一同来的还有福斯科伯爵夫妇,他们要在布莱克沃特度过这个夏天。

早上,管家米切尔森太太领我参观了房子。这是一幢很古老的房子,多处是厚厚的尘土,没有人住。偌大的房子只有一部分还比较舒适,可以住人。

之后,我去看了看花园和园林。花园很小,维护得也不好。这周围树木非常多,遮蔽了房子。我发现了树林中的一条小路,沿着小路走了半英里之后是一个湖。这是一个潮湿僻静的地方。平静漆黑的湖水和长长的树影使这里笼上了一层阴暗、凄凉的色彩。湖的附近有一个破旧的船屋,里面有几个座位,我走进去坐下休息。

我并不是一个胆小的人,但是听见座位底下传来急促的喘息声,我还是惊得一下子跳了起来。其实,那是只狗——一只黑白相间的小狗,身子的一侧有子弹的伤痕。我把可怜的小东西带回房子里,叫来米切尔森太太帮我。

米切尔森太太进来看见地上躺着的小狗,马上大声说:“噢,这一定是凯瑟里克太太的狗!”

“是谁的狗?”我非常吃惊地问。

“凯瑟里克太太的。你认识她吗?她来这里打听过她女儿的消息。”

“什么时候?”

“就是昨天。她听说有人在附近看见过她女儿安妮。可是没人知道这件事。我想这条狗可能跑到树林里去,让看林人给打了。”

我尽量让自己听起来不是过分好奇,“你是不是认识凯瑟里克太太好多年了?”

“噢,也不是,哈尔库姆小姐。我以前没见过她。她住在离这里25英里远的韦明翰。我听说过她,因为珀西瓦尔爵士出钱送她女儿去精神病院。但是昨天,凯瑟里克太太让我别跟珀西瓦尔爵士讲她来过的事。这有点儿怪,是吧,小姐?”

奇怪,的确奇怪!但是,我们得把注意力集中到那只小狗身上,虽然我们尽力挽救,没过多久它还是死了。我第一天到布莱克沃特就发生了一件令人伤心的事。

*  *  *

当天晚上,旅行者们都回来了。我见到劳拉的高兴劲儿刚过,就觉得我们之间有一种奇怪的感觉,我意识到她变了。我相信,我们之间很快就会像从前一样。但是她好像失去了原来的纯真和坦诚。她不愿谈自己的婚后生活,而且我发现她同她丈夫之间毫无亲密可言。她很快就向我问起沃尔特:“你收到他的信了吗?他好吗?”显而易见,她还在深深地爱着他。

至于珀西瓦尔爵士,他的脾气变得越发暴躁,越发不讨人喜欢。见到我,他只是简单地说了声“你好,哈尔库姆小姐。很高兴又见到你。”然后就从我身边走过去了。一点点小事也会让他大为恼火。举个例子,米切尔森太太告诉他一个星期前有个男人来找他,但没有留下姓名。珀西瓦尔爵士问那人什么模样,可怜的米切尔森太太说不上来,于是珀西瓦尔爵士勃然大怒,气急败坏地走出房间。

关于福斯科夫人,劳拉说得很对。我从未见过哪个女人身上会发生如此大的变化。她是埃莉诺·费尔利小姐的时候(当时她37岁),经常穿鲜亮的衣服,说傻话,做傻事。她成了福斯科夫人以后(现在她43岁),只穿灰色和黑色的衣服,而且经常几个小时坐在那里一声不吭地做针线,给伯爵卷烟或者像一条忠诚的狗一样望着伯爵。

那么,那个导致了如此变化,驯服了这么一个桀骜不驯的英国女人的男人呢?对,我该怎么描述伯爵呢?他好像可以驯服一切。假如他娶了,我也会像他妻子一样给他卷烟,我也会像她一样被他看一眼就闭上嘴。

我应该怎么解释这个男人的魔力、魅力和影响呢?其实,他身上有许多不招人喜欢的地方。比方说,他体形肥胖,似乎还戴假发,而且少说也有60岁了。他人很懒,听到任何一点儿响动都会跳起来,还特别爱养宠物。他带来各种各样的鸟和一大窝白鼠。他就像小孩子一样,时常亲吻这些宠物,用昵称叫它们。

可是,可是……他身体肥胖,但动作像舞蹈演员一样轻巧灵便。他的脸很光滑,没有皱纹;表情沉稳庄重。他的声音很柔和,有一种难以抵挡的魅力。他精通英语,还是个化学家。他用儿语对白鼠讲话,但是谈到用任何语言写作的书籍,他都睿智机敏,滔滔不绝。他到过一半欧洲国家的首都。他经常谈起在那些城市的经历。

但让我铭记在心的是他的眼睛——一双冷酷、明亮、好看的灰眼睛。他的眼睛有一种慑人的威力,我现在想起来还会打哆嗦。

关于他的过去,我从珀西瓦尔爵士那儿知道的很少。我只知道他很多年没回意大利了,不知道是不是由于政治原因。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士在罗马遇到大难,伯爵帮助他脱离了危险。从那以后,他们成了密友。很明显,珀西瓦尔爵士总是力图讨好伯爵,从不跟他对着干。

我不知道自己是不是也害怕他。但是,他是我所见过的人中我最不愿与之成为敌人的。

*  *  *

他们旅行回来几天后,吃午饭的时候,一个叫梅里曼的人来了,要求马上见珀西瓦尔爵士。看得出,珀西瓦尔没想到这个人会来,他起身出去的时候显得既吃惊又生气。

劳拉和我都不知道梅里曼先生是何许人。伯爵告诉我们他是珀西瓦尔爵士的律师。我不知道出了什么事,因为除了被唤而来,律师是不会从伦敦到汉普郡来的。梅里曼先生一定带来了什么重要消息——不管是好消息还是坏消息。

福斯科伯爵显然看出了我的心事,轻声对我说:“没错,哈尔库姆小姐,确实出事了。”

后来,我从房里出来,看见珀西瓦尔爵士和律师正穿过楼下的大厅。他们说话的声音很低,但还是清晰地传进我的耳朵里。

“是的,珀西瓦尔爵士,”我听见律师说,“一切都取决于格莱德夫人了。”

听到劳拉的名字,我马上停住了脚步。我知道这样做不好,但还是接着往下听。

“你知道,珀西瓦尔爵士,格莱德夫人必须在两个证人在场的情况下签字,只要这件事在一星期之内办妥,一切都好说。如果不行,我可以准备一份文件,向他们保证三个月后付款。可是,三个月后怎么能弄到钱呢……?”

他们走进书房,下面的话我听不见了。好像珀西瓦尔爵士欠了一大笔债,而还债就取决于劳拉。我立即把刚刚听到的消息告诉了劳拉,她看上去一点儿也不惊讶。

“我料到会出这种事,”劳拉说,“在我听说来了一位没有留下姓名的陌生人时,我就料到了。那人很可能是来要钱的。不过别怕,玛丽安,任何今后我可能后悔的文件,我都不会签的。”

那天晚上,珀西瓦尔爵士对我们大家异乎寻常地客气。这说明什么呢?我想我能猜出来——劳拉也能猜出来——而且我敢肯定福斯科伯爵清楚其中的奥秘。我注意到珀西瓦尔有好几次都用眼神征求伯爵的意见。伯爵肯定清楚珀西瓦尔爵士的经济困境。

第二天早上,珀西瓦尔爵士让福斯科伯爵、劳拉还有我午饭后到书房来一下,谈一点事情。午饭前我们一同散步来到了湖边,在船屋里歇脚。

“有人说这湖很美,”珀西瓦尔爵士指着周围的景色说,“我觉得它很丑,像个发生凶案的地方,不是吗?你觉得呢,福斯科?”

“我亲爱的珀西瓦尔,”伯爵反对道,“这里的水太浅了,根本藏不住尸体,只有傻子才在这里谋杀。聪明人会选择别的地方。”

“聪明人不会去杀人的,”劳拉一面说着,一面不高兴地看着伯爵,“我相信你找不出一个聪明人犯罪的例子。”

“亲爱的夫人,”伯爵说,“我可找不出例子,因为聪明人犯罪不会让人知道。”

伯爵一边说着,一边摆弄着小笼子里的白鼠。他突然发现少了一只,但很快在一个座位底下找到了它,同时还发现了让他大吃一惊的东西。

“珀西瓦尔,快过来。你看这沙子,上面有血!”他说。

大家都很吃惊,我不得不告诉他们我发现那只受伤的狗的事情。

“谁的狗?”珀西瓦尔爵士问。

“管家说是凯瑟里克太太的。”我回答,忽然想起来这应该是秘密,可是太晚了。

“凯瑟里克太太到这儿来干什么?”

珀西瓦尔问得既气愤又无礼,我转过身去。福斯科伯爵拍了拍珀西瓦尔的胳膊。

“亲爱的珀西瓦尔!别着急,别着急!”

出乎我的意料,珀西瓦尔给我道了歉。伯爵接着说:“为什么不问问管家呢,珀西瓦尔?她好像知道事情的来龙去脉。”

珀西瓦尔爵士接受了这个建议,马上告辞回了庄园。

伯爵似乎对凯瑟里克太太非常感兴趣,想了解她那次来的所有情况。我尽量少透露信息,可是劳拉也问这问那。最后,我们知道的关于凯瑟里克太太以及她女儿安妮的情况,伯爵全都知道了。从伯爵惊讶的表情我可以断定,在这之前他对安妮·凯瑟里克一无所知。我很纳闷,为什么珀西瓦尔爵士不告诉他的好朋友这些事。

我们回到庄园,珀西瓦尔爵士过来同我们打招呼,“很抱歉,我得跟大家告辞。我要赶很长一段路,明天才能回来。不过,我想走之前了结那件小事。到书房来好吗?一会儿就好。”

来到书房,他从柜子里取出一份文件放到桌子上。文件是叠起来的,文字部分都遮住了,只能看见签字的部分。

他把一支笔递给劳拉,说:“在这儿签字吧。哈尔库姆小姐,你和福斯科等会儿再签。”

alt

“你要我签的是什么文件?”劳拉平静地问。

“我没时间解释,我得走了,就是一份公文,”珀西瓦尔很不高兴地说,“你们女人不懂,你就签字吧。”

“我当然有理由知道我签的是什么。”

“我明白了,你的意思是你不信任我!对吗?这叫什么妻子?”

我站在劳拉一边,说:“如果她不知道签的是什么,那我恐怕无法做证人。”

珀西瓦尔爵士愤怒地转向我,“你好大的胆子!你是我的客人,可却站在我妻子一边同我作对!”

“控制一下你的臭脾气,珀西瓦尔,”伯爵说,我听他对珀西瓦尔耳语:“你这笨蛋!”

劳拉放下笔,走到我身旁。

“格莱德夫人说的对,”伯爵说,“签字的事明天再说吧。”

珀西瓦尔爵士朝他破口大骂,但还是走开了。

“那好吧,”珀西瓦尔说,“那就等明天。不管怎样,我现在得走了。但是,你明天必须签字,否则——”他恶狠狠地瞪了他妻子一眼,然后走出了房间。

劳拉和我往外走的时候,伯爵走了过来。“你们刚才看到了珀西瓦尔爵士脾气最差的样子,”他说,“作为他的老朋友,我替他道歉。我保证他明天不会这样了。”

我开始明白,现在要是没有伯爵的帮助,我是不大可能接续呆在布莱克沃特庄园的。我真心地感谢了他。然后,我拉着劳拉上楼,到我的房间休息一会儿。

在我的房间里,劳拉告诉我结婚后珀西瓦尔爵士对待她多么冷酷,她多么不开心。我努力安慰她,帮她想办法解决签字的问题。忽然,我想到了给吉尔摩先生的合伙人克尔先生写信,问问他的意见。我在信里叫他派一个信使第二天1点之前把回信带过来。写完后,我把信放到了大厅的邮袋里。就在这时,福斯科夫人走过来,约我到花园里谈谈。她跟我足足说了半个小时她有多么同情我。我觉得非常奇怪,因为她以前根本就不在意我。

我回到屋里,看到福斯科伯爵也在往邮袋里放信。不知出于什么原因,我决定查看一下我的信是不是封好了。于是,我把我的那封信拿了出来。我还真做对了,我发现信封是开着的。好奇怪呀,我心里想。也许有人在捣鬼……

也许……

没错!不会是别的原因。

6
An appointment by the lake

After dinner that evening, Laura and I went for a walk down to the lake. The atmosphere was gloomy and depressing, but at least we were alone.

'I want to have no secrets from you, Marian,' Laura said, 'but I'm sure you have already guessed what my married life is like. Sir Percival said such cruel things to me in Italy that I turned for comfort to my memories of those happy days with Walter Hartright. And I have to tell you, Marian, Sir Percival now knows that Walter is the man I loved.'

I stared at her, and what little hope I had left began to die.

'It was at a party in Rome. Some people from London said I should have drawing lessons and recommended a Mr Hartright. I could not control myself when I heard his name and my husband noticed. "So it was him, was it?" he said, with a horrible smile. "Well, we will see about Mr Hartright. You will be sorry, and so will he, to the end of your lives." And Marian, he uses this knowledge like a whip to punish me, day in, day out.'

'Oh, Laura!' I said, putting my arms around her. This was my fault — yes, my fault! I remembered the white despair of Walter's face as I told him to leave, as I tore these two young hearts apart. And I had done this for Sir Percival Glyde.

For Sir Percival Glyde.

*  *  *

It was growing dark when we set out for home, and as we left Laura seized my arm. 'Marian, look!'

By the lake was a dark figure, half hidden by the evening mist rising off the water. We began to walk quickly.

'I'm sure it's following us,' whispered Laura. 'Is it a man or a woman?' She was shaking with fear.

'It's hard to tell in this light,' I said, then called out, 'Who's there?' There was no answer.

We hurried back through the wood, and when we reached home, I sent Laura upstairs and went to find out where everyone was. The Count and his wife, the servants, the housekeeper — all were inside. The figure by the lake was no one from the house. So who could it have been?

The next day Laura discovered she had lost her bracelet and thought she must have dropped it near the lake. She went off to look for it while I waited for the messenger from Mr Kyrle.

One o'clock came. By now I was so suspicious of everyone in the house that I decided to slip out and meet the messenger myself. Taking great care not to be seen, I went down to the main gate and a little way along the road. Soon a cab appeared. I stopped it and said, 'Are you going to Blackwater Park?'

A man put his head out and said, 'Yes, with a letter for Miss Halcombe.'

'You may give the letter to me,' I said. 'I am Miss Halcombe.'

I read the letter quickly.


Dear Miss Halcombe — Your letter has caused me great anxiety. It seems very likely that Lady Glyde's signature is needed so that a Loan of all or part of her £20,000 can be made to Sir Percival. This is almost certainly illegal, and Lady Glyde should not sign any document until I have examined it first.

Sincerely, William Kyrle.


I read this very thankfully and told the messenger to say that I understood the letter. As I spoke these words, Count Fosco came round the corner and suddenly appeared in front of me. Completely taken by surprise, I stared at him speechlessly. The messenger drove away in his cab, and the Count took my arm to walk home with me.

He talked pleasantly of this and that, and asked no questions about letters or messengers, so I assumed he had found out everything. He must have read my letter, returned it to the post-bag, and now knew that I had received an answer. There was no point in trying to deceive him so I said nothing, and just tried to seem quite cool and calm.

Back at the house we found that Sir Percival had returned, in an even worse mood than before, it seemed. When I told him Laura was out looking for her bracelet, he growled,

'Bracelet or no bracelet, I shall expect to see her in the library in half an hour.'

I turned to go into the house, but behind me heard the Count saying to Sir Percival, 'May I have five minutes' talk with you, here on the grass?'

They walked off together and I went inside to the sitting room, to think over all that had happened. Before long, however, the door opened softly and the Count looked in.

'Good news, Miss Halcombe,' he said. 'The business of the signature is put off for the moment. I'm sure you are relieved.'

He went out before I had recovered from my amazement. There could be no doubt that this change was due to his influence. His discovery of my writing to London and receiving an answer had caused him to interfere. Now there was even more to think about but, exhausted by worry and the heat of the day, my eyes closed and I fell into a little sleep.

I woke to find Laura's hand on my shoulder.

'Marian! The figure at the lake. I've just spoken to her! It's Anne Catherick. Look, she found my bracelet.'

Still half asleep, I stared at her stupidly. 'Anne Catherick?'

'Yes! I was searching in the boat-house,' Laura went on, 'when a woman in a white dress came in and said quietly, "Miss Fairlie. I have your bracelet. Your mother would not want you to lose it. "I jumped up, but her voice was so kind that I wasn't afraid. I asked her how she knew my mother. She said her name was Anne Catherick and asked me if I remembered as a little girl walking with her and my mother to the school in Limmeridge one day. I did remember. Suddenly I saw that we were like each other, but her face was pale and thin and tired. It was how my face might look after a long illness. "Why do you call me Miss Fairlie?" I asked, and she answered, "Because I love the name of Fairlie and hate the name of Glyde."'

'Did she say anything about your husband?' I asked.

'She said that after she wrote the letter, she did not have the courage to stay in Limmeridge to try to prevent my marriage to him. She was afraid he would find her and shut her up in the asylum again. But she was not afraid any more because she was so ill she thought she was dying. Then, Marian, she said that she and her mother knew a secret that my husband was afraid of.'

'Yes? Go on!' I said eagerly. 'What secret?'

'She was just going to tell me, when she thought she heard a noise outside. "We are not alone," she said, "someone is watching. Come here tomorrow at this time and I will tell you." Then she pushed me to one side and disappeared.'

'Oh, Laura, Laura, another chance lost! But you must keep the appointment tomorrow. It seems so important. I will follow you at a safe distance. She must not escape this time.'

We were silent for a time. Then Laura said anxiously, 'Why hasn't Sir Percival called us to the library to sign the document?'

'Oh yes! I forgot to tell you,' I said. 'Thanks to Count Fosco, the business of the signature has been postponed.'

'But why?' Laura said, amazed. 'If Sir Percival urgently needs money, how can it be postponed?'

'I heard Sir Percival's lawyer mention a second plan — to give a document promising payment in three months.'

'Oh, Marian!' she said. 'That would be such a relief.'

'Yes, it would. Let's hope that it's true.'

That evening Sir Percival was polite, even pleasant, especially to Laura. This must have been due to the Count's influence, and it worried me. What lay behind it? I was sure that Sir Percival's sudden journey yesterday had been to Welmingham, to question Mrs Catherick. What had he learnt? What were his plans? As the evening passed, I grew more and more uneasy, and I went to bed feeling very anxious about what the next day would bring.

*  *  *

I was not wrong to be anxious. The next day Laura and I arranged that after lunch she would go alone to the boat-house, and that I would follow a little later, taking great care that Anne Catherick did not see me, in case she was frightened by the appearance of another stranger.

Sir Percival had gone out earlier in the morning and did not appear even for lunch, so it was quite easy to put our plan into action. However, when I came quietly up to the back of the boat-house, I heard no voices, no sounds of movement, nothing. Soon I was searching inside the boat-house, and softly calling Laura's name. But no one answered and no one appeared. Outside, I searched the ground for signs, and found the footprints of two people in the sand — big footprints like a man's and small footprints, which I was sure were Laura's. There was also a little hole in the sand by the wall of the boat-house.

Desperate with worry, I hurried back to the house. The first person I met was Mrs Michelson, the housekeeper.

'Do you know,' I asked, 'whether Lady Glyde has come in?'

'Yes, she has, Miss Halcombe. And I am afraid something unfortunate has happened. Lady Glyde ran upstairs in tears and Sir Percival has told me to dismiss her servant, Fanny.'

My heart sank. Fanny was Laura's personal servant from Limmeridge, and the only person in the house we both trusted.

I ran upstairs to Laura's room. Her door was shut, and there was one of Sir Percival's house servants standing in front of it.

'Move away,' I said. 'Don't you see that I want to go in?'

'But you mustn't go in,' she answered. 'I have my orders.'

Wild with anger, I turned and went downstairs to find Sir Percival. He was in the library with the Count and Countess.

'Am I to understand that your wife's room is a prison?' I asked, staring him full in the face.

'Yes, that is what you are to understand,' he answered.

'Take care how you treat your wife!' I shouted furiously. 'There are laws to protect women, and I will use those laws.'

Instead of answering me, he turned to the Count. The Count looked at me with his calm, cold, grey eyes. But it was the Countess who spoke.

'Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Percival,' she said suddenly. 'But I cannot remain in a house where ladies are treated as your wife and Miss Halcombe have been treated today!'

Sir Percival stared at her in shocked silence, knowing, as I did, she would not have said this without the Count's permission.

'I agree with my wife,' the Count said quietly.

Sir Percival swore, then whispered angrily, 'All right, have your own way.' With these words he left the room.

'We have made the worst-tempered man in England see reason,' said the Count. 'Thanks to your courage, Miss Halcombe, this insulting situation is now ended.'

I tried to speak normally, but could not. The Count left the library, then returned a few minutes later to say that Lady Glyde had the freedom of her own house again. Immediately I rushed upstairs to Laura's room. She was alone inside and I was in such a hurry that I did not close the door properly behind me.

'Marian!' she said thankfully. 'How did you get here?'

'It was the Count's influence, of course,' I said.

'That horrible man!' she cried. 'He's a miserable spy!'

Just then we heard a knock on the door. It was the Countess, bringing me a handkerchief I had dropped. Her face was white, and I saw in her eyes that she had been listening at the door.

'Oh, Laura,' I said when she had gone, 'you shouldn't have called the Count a spy. We shall both regret it.'

'But he is a spy, Marian! There was someone watching me at the lake yesterday, and it was him. He told Sir Percival, who watched and waited all morning for me and Anne Catherick. But she didn't come — I found a note from her hidden in a hole in the sand. She said she'd been followed yesterday by a fat old man. He hadn't caught her, but she was afraid to come back this afternoon. She hid this note very early in the morning, and said she would see me again soon to tell me Sir Percival's secret.'

'What happened to the note?' I said. 'Have you got it?'

'No. While I was reading it, Sir Percival appeared. He took it from me and demanded to hear everything Anne Catherick had said. He held my arm so tightly! — look, see how he's bruised it. What could I do, Marian? I was helpless! I told him everything.'

I looked at the bruises on Laura's arm, and felt such furious hatred for Sir Percival that I dared not speak.

'But he didn't believe me,' Laura went on. 'He said he knew she had told me more and that he would lock me up until I had confessed the truth. Then he took me back to the house, gave orders for Fanny to leave, and locked me in my room. Oh, Marian, he was like a madman! What are we to do?'

'He is mad — mad with fear. He thinks you know his secret,' I said. 'I must act now to protect you — who knows how long I will be allowed to stay here?' I thought hard for a few minutes. 'I will write two letters and give them to Fanny to take with her. I can't trust the post-bag here any more. One for Mr Kyrle, telling him of your bruises and Sir Percival's violent behaviour.'

'And who is the other letter for?' asked Laura anxiously.

'For Mr Fairlie,' I said. 'Your lazy, selfish uncle. I'll make him invite you for a visit to Limmeridge, without your husband.'

I left her then and went to my room to write the letters. Fanny had already gone and was staying the night in the little hotel in the village, before beginning the long journey to Cumberland the next day. I decided I had time before dinner to walk to the village and back, so I slipped quietly out of the house and set off.

From time to time I looked behind me. Was I being followed? Or was my imagination playing tricks on me? By now I was suspicious of everything — every tiny sound, every shadow on the road, every breath of wind. Earlier, while writing the letters, I thought I had heard the rustle of a silk dress outside my door. I had even wondered if someone had been in my room, looking through the things in my desk. I hurried on, trying to put these thoughts out of my mind.

When I got to the little hotel, I saw Fanny in her room. She was very upset at leaving Laura, and started crying, but stopped when I told her that Lady Glyde and I needed her help.

'Here are two letters,' I said. 'Post the one addressed to Mr Kyrle in London tomorrow, and deliver the other to Mr Fairlie yourself when you get home to Limmeridge. Keep them safe!'

Fanny put the letters down the front of her dress. 'They'll stay there, miss,' she said, 'till I've done what you tell me.'


day in, day out one day after another 一天又一天地

seize v. take hold of forcibly or suddenly 紧紧抓住

illegal adj. contrary to law 不合法的

assume v. take or accept as being true, without proof 推想

growl v. murmur angrily 咕哝

put off postpone 推迟

exhaust v. use up the strength or resources of a person 筋疲力尽

postpone v. put off 推迟

footprint n. the impression left by a foot or shoe 脚印;鞋印

dismiss v. discharge from employment 辞退

hospitality n. the friendly and generous reception or entertainment of guests or strangers 热情款待

insulting adj. offending one self-respect or modesty 侮辱性的

bruise v. inflict a bruise on 使受淤伤

selfish adj. deficient in consideration for others 自私的

breath n. slight movement of air 轻风

6.湖畔之约

那天晚饭后,劳拉和我散步来到湖边。周围的环境昏暗而压抑,但至少我们可以单独在一起。

“我不愿对你有任何秘密,玛丽安,”劳拉开口说,“但是,我相信你已经猜到我婚后的生活是什么样子。在意大利,珀西瓦尔爵士跟我说了很多恶毒的话,我只能借助回忆同沃尔特·哈特里特在一起的幸福时光来寻求安慰。我得告诉你,玛丽安,珀西瓦尔爵士现在已经知道沃尔特是我所爱的人了。”

我的眼睛紧盯着她,心中仅存的一线希望也开始泯灭了。

“那是在罗马的一次聚会上,几个从伦敦来的朋友说我应该学学绘画,并向我推荐哈特里特先生。听到他的名字,我无法控制自己的感情,这些被我丈夫看到了。‘就是他,对吗?’他狞笑着问我,‘哈特里特先生的事我们走着瞧。你和他都会后悔一辈子的。’玛丽安,他抓住这件事一天又一天地折磨我。”

“噢,劳拉!”我搂住她。这都是我的错——是的,是我的错!我还记得我告诉沃尔特必须离开的时候,他脸上那惨淡绝望的表情。是我把两颗相爱的心拆开了。我这样做却成全了珀西瓦尔爵士。

成全了珀西瓦尔爵士。

*  *  *

天黑了下来,我们开始往回走。劳拉突然抓住我的胳膊,“玛丽安,你看!”

湖边有一个黑影,傍晚水面上升起的雾气遮住了我们的视线。我们开始加快脚步。

“我敢肯定有人跟踪我们,”劳拉低声说,“是男的还是女的?”她害怕得浑身发抖。

“在这样的光线里看不清,”我回答,然后大声喊道,“谁在那儿?”没有反应。

我们很快地穿过树林,回到家里。我把劳拉送上楼,然后就去查看家里的其他人都在哪儿。伯爵夫妇,仆人,管家——所有的人都在。湖边那个人影不是家里的人,那会是谁呢?

第二天,劳拉发现手镯丢了,她认为一定是丢在湖边了。她出去找手镯,我留在家里等克尔先生的信使。

1点到了。现在,我对家里的每个人都有怀疑,所以决定溜出去自己迎接信使。我尽量不让别人看见,独自来到大门口,又朝前走了一段。不一会儿,一辆马车过来了。我拦住车,问:“是去布莱克沃特庄园吗?”

一个男人探出头说:“是的,给哈尔库姆小姐送信。”

“把信给我吧,”我说,“我就是哈尔库姆小姐。”

我迫不及待地读了来信。

亲爱的哈尔库姆小姐,你的来信令我深感不安。情况很可能是只要有格莱德夫人的签字,珀西瓦尔爵士就可以借走她的20,000英镑或其中一部分,几乎可以肯定这是不合法的。任何我没有仔细看过的文件,格莱德夫人都不要签字。

此致,威廉·克尔

我满怀感激地读完信,告诉信使我明白了信的意思。正说着,福斯科伯爵突然从拐角那边走了出来,出现在我的面前。我没有任何思想准备,两眼盯着他,一句话也说不出来。信使赶车离开了,伯爵挽着我的手臂往回走。

路上,他兴致勃勃地说这说那,没有问任何关于信和信使的事,我想他已经什么都知道了。他肯定偷看了我的信,然后又放回到邮袋里,现在也知道我收到了回信。没有必要再瞒他什么,所以我什么话也不说,尽量表现得镇定。

回到庄园,我们发现珀西瓦尔爵士已经回来了,看上去情绪更加糟糕。我告诉他劳拉出去找手镯了,他生气地咕哝道:

“什么手镯不手镯的,我半小时后必须在书房见她。”

我转身朝屋里走,但听见身后伯爵对珀西瓦尔说:“我可以跟你在草坪上谈5分钟吗?”

他们俩一起走开了,我走进客厅,思考着刚发生的一切。不一会儿,门轻轻地开了,福斯科伯爵出现在门口。

“好消息,哈尔库姆小姐,”他说,“签字的事推迟了,我想你一定放心了吧。”

我还没来得及从惊讶中回过神来,他就出去了。毫无疑问,是他施加了影响才有现在的变化。他发现我给伦敦写信并且收到了回信,于是他开始干预。还有很多事需要考虑,但我实在累极了,再加上天热,我睁不开眼睛,就这么睡着了。

醒来后,我发现劳拉的一只手搭在我的肩上。

“玛丽安!湖边那个人影。我刚跟她谈过了!她是安妮·凯瑟里克。瞧,她找到了我的手镯。”

我还在半梦半醒之间,迷迷糊糊地看着她问:“安妮·凯瑟里克?”

“是的!我正在船屋里找手镯,”劳拉接着说,“一个穿白衣服的女人进来,轻声说:‘费尔利小姐,你的手镯在我这儿。你的母亲一定不希望你把它弄丢了。’我一下子跳了起来,但她的声音非常友善,我很快就不害怕了。我问她怎么认识我母亲。她告诉我她叫安妮·凯瑟里克,问我记不记得小时候有一天同她还有母亲一道去利默里奇的学校。我确实记得。我突然发现我们俩长得很相像,只是她的脸看上去苍白、消瘦、疲惫。我久病之后可能就是那个样子。‘你为什么叫我费尔利小姐?’我问她。她回答说:‘因为我喜欢费尔利这个姓,憎恨格莱德这个姓。’”

“她提到你丈夫了吗?”我问。

“她说她写完那封信以后,没有勇气再呆在利默里奇阻止我和他结婚。她害怕他找到她,再把她关进精神病院。但是现在她不怕了,因为她现在病得很厉害,就要死了。然后,玛丽安,她说她和她母亲知道一个令我丈夫非常害怕的秘密。”

“什么秘密?快说啊!”我急切地问,“什么秘密?”

“她刚要告诉我,就听见外面有响动。‘有人,’她说,‘有人在盯着我们。明天这个时间到这儿来,我再告诉你。’说完,她就推开我走了。”

“噢,劳拉,劳拉,又一个机会跑掉了!你明天一定要去,那个秘密一定非常重要。我跟你去,躲在远处不让她看见。这次可不能叫她再跑了。”

我们沉默了一会儿。然后,劳拉不安地问:“珀西瓦尔爵士怎么还没来叫我们去书房签字呢?”

“对了,我刚才忘了告诉你,”我说,“多亏了福斯科伯爵,签字的事推迟了。”

“为什么?”劳拉惊疑地问,“珀西瓦尔爵士那么急需钱,怎么会推迟呢?”

“我听珀西瓦尔爵士的律师提过另一个计划,要做一份保证三个月后还钱的文件。”

“噢,玛丽安!”她说,“那可太好了。”

“是很好,但愿这是真的。”

那天晚上,珀西瓦尔爵士对大家,尤其对劳拉,非常有礼貌,甚至可以说是非常好。这一定是伯爵的功劳,我对此很担心。这背后到底隐藏着什么?我想珀西瓦尔爵士昨天突然离开,肯定是去韦明翰找凯瑟里克太太了。他得到什么消息没有?他下一步想干什么?一个晚上,我越来越放心不下。睡觉时我对明天将要发生的事情异常担心。

*  *  *

我的担心没有错。第二天,劳拉和我商量好,午饭后她先一个人到船屋去,过一会儿我再去,尽量不让安妮·凯瑟里克看见我,以免她被我这个陌生人吓跑。

上午,珀西瓦尔爵士比往常出去得更早,连午饭也没来吃,因此我们实施计划也更容易一些。然而,我蹑手蹑脚来到船屋后面的时候,却听不到一点儿动静。我进去寻找,轻声叫着劳拉的名字。可是没有人回答,也没有人影。我来到屋外,仔细察看地面,发现沙地上有两个人的脚印——大一些的像是男人的,小一些的我敢肯定是劳拉的。船屋墙边的沙地上还有一个小坑。

我担心极了,赶忙回到庄园。我见到的第一个人是管家米切尔森太太。

“你知道格莱德夫人回来了吗?”我问。

“是的,她回来了,哈尔库姆小姐。可能出了什么不幸的事。格莱德夫人哭着跑上了楼,珀西瓦尔爵士叫我把她的仆人范妮辞退了。”

我的心一下子沉了下来。范妮是劳拉从利默里奇带来的贴身仆人,也是我们两人在这里唯一信任的人。

我跑上楼,来到劳拉的房门口。房门紧闭,珀西瓦尔的一个仆人站在门口。

“让开,”我大声说,“你没看见我要进去吗?”

“你不能进去,”仆人说,“我得听主人的吩咐。”

我肺都要气炸了,转身下楼去找珀西瓦尔爵士。他和伯爵夫妇正在书房。

“你妻子的房间是监狱吗?”我眼睛直盯着他问道。

“是的,你应该明白这点。”他回答。

“请注意你是如何对待你妻子的!”我愤怒地嚷着。“妇女受法律的保护,我会告你的。”

珀西瓦尔爵士没有接我的话,而是转向了伯爵。伯爵用他那平静、冷漠的灰眼睛看着我。但开口的是伯爵夫人。

“谢谢你的热情款待,珀西瓦尔爵士,”她突然说道。“但是,今天你的妻子和哈尔库姆小姐在这里受到如此的对待,我是不能再呆下去了!”

珀西瓦尔爵士目瞪口呆地盯着伯爵夫人,他跟我一样心里明白,没有伯爵的准许,她是不会说这番话的。

“我同意我妻子的话。”伯爵不紧不慢地说。

珀西瓦尔骂了一句,然后气哼哼地低声说:“好吧,你们要怎样就怎样吧。”说完,他走了出去。

“我们让英国脾气最坏的人明白道理了,”伯爵说,“多亏你的勇气,哈尔库姆小姐,这个令人难堪的局面终于结束了。”

我试图以正常的方式讲话,可是却做不到。伯爵走出了书房,几分钟后回来说,格莱德夫人在她自己的家里重获自由了。我立刻冲上楼来到劳拉的房间。她一个人在里面,我进去得太急了,没有关好门。

“玛丽安!”劳拉感激地说,“你是怎么进来的?”

“当然是伯爵帮的忙。”我回答。

“那个可怕的人!”她大声说,“他是个可恶的奸细!”

就在这时,我听到有人敲门。来的是伯爵夫人,她给我送刚才落在楼下的手绢。她脸色苍白,看了她的眼神,我就明白她一直在门口偷听。

“哦,劳拉,”伯爵夫人走了以后,我对劳拉说,“你不应该管伯爵叫奸细,我们都会后悔的。”

“他真的是奸细,玛丽安!昨天在湖边有人跟踪我,那人就是他。是他告诉珀西瓦尔的,珀西瓦尔整个上午都在等我和安妮·凯瑟里克。凯瑟里克没来,我在沙地小坑里找到一张纸条,上面说一个胖老头昨天跟踪她。那人没有抓住她,但是她今天下午不敢来了。她一大早就来藏了纸条,还说她会很快再来见我,告诉我珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。”

“那张纸条呢?”我问,“在你手里吗?”

“没有。我正在看的时候,珀西瓦尔爵士出现在我面前。他把纸条夺过去,要我告诉他安妮·凯瑟里克说了什么。他那么用力地抓我的手臂!——看,都青了。我能怎么办,玛丽安?我一点儿办法也没有,只好都告诉他了。”

我看着劳拉手臂上的伤,心里恨透了珀西瓦尔爵士却敢怒不敢言。

“可他还不相信我,”劳拉继续说道,“他说他知道凯瑟里克还告诉了我很多事,我不说实话,他就把我锁起来。然后他把我带回庄园,下令辞退范妮,还把我锁在房间里。噢,玛丽安,他简直像个疯子!我们该怎么办呢?”

“他是疯了——因为他害怕。他认为你知道了他的秘密,”我说,“我必须采取行动保护你——谁知道我还可以在这儿呆多久呢?”我冥思苦想了几分钟,“我要写两封信让范妮带走。我再也不能相信那个邮袋了。一封给克尔先生,告诉他你的伤和珀西瓦尔爵士的粗暴行为。”

“那另外一封呢?”劳拉迫不及待地问。

“给费尔利先生,”我回答,“你那懒惰、自私的叔叔。我要让他请你回一次利默里奇,不带你丈夫。”

离开劳拉,我回到自己的房间,开始写信。范妮已经离开了庄园,今晚住在村里的旅店,明天动身长途旅行去坎伯兰郡。我想我晚饭前有时间到旅店,然后再回来。所以,我悄悄地溜出庄园,朝村子走去。

我不时回头张望,看是否有人跟踪。或许是我的想象在作怪?现在,我开始怀疑一切——任何小的声响,路上的影子,一切风吹草动。刚才写信的时候,我觉得门外有丝绸衣服的响动。我甚至怀疑是否有人来我房间偷看过我桌子里的东西。我加快了脚步,尽量不去想这些。

来到小旅店,我在范妮的房间见到了她。离开劳拉让她难过得哭了起来。但是,当我告诉她格莱德夫人和我需要她的帮助时,她不哭了。

“这儿有两封信,”我说,“一封你明天到伦敦后寄给克尔先生,另一封你到利默里奇后亲手交给费尔利先生。一定把信收好。”

范妮把信塞到衣服里。“我把信放在这儿,小姐,”她说,“我会照你的吩咐去做。”

7
A conversation in the night

I arrived back at the house with only twenty minutes to get ready for dinner — and to slip into Laura's room to say that the letters were safely in Fanny's hands.

Laura looked pale. 'I'm not coming down to dinner,' she said. 'Sir Percival came to my door, shouting at me to tell him where Anne Catherick is.'

'At least that means he hasn't found her yet,' I said.

At dinner the Count looked hot and red in the face, and his clothes were a little untidy. Had he been out too, I wondered? He seemed troubled by some secret annoyance or anxiety, and was almost as silent as Sir Percival. At the end of the meal, when Madame Fosco and I left the table, the Count stood up too.

'Where are you going, Fosco?' Sir Percival said. 'Sit down and have another glass of wine. I want a quiet talk with you.'

'Not now, Percival. Later,' he answered.

Earlier in the day I had heard Sir Percival make the same request, and this was the second time the Count had postponed the talk. Why, I wondered? And what was it that Sir Percival wanted to discuss so urgently?

We went into the living room and Madame Fosco, usually so slow and deliberate in her movements, drank her tea at great speed and then slipped quietly out of the room. I began to leave too, but the Count stopped me, first by a request for more tea, then by asking my opinion on some music, and then by playing several noisy Italian songs on the piano. Eventually, I escaped from him and went up to Laura's room. Had she seen or heard anything of Madame Fosco, I asked? No, she had not. We talked together till ten o'clock, and then I went downstairs again to say goodnight. Sir Percival, the Count and his wife were sitting together in the living room. I noticed that Madame Fosco's face was now hot and red. Where had she been, and what had she been doing? As I looked at her, she gave a little smile, as though at some private joke.

I said goodnight to everybody, and as I left the room, I heard Sir Percival say impatiently to the Count, 'Come outside and have a smoke, Fosco.'

'With pleasure, Percival, when all the ladies have gone to bed,' replied the Count.

Up in my room, I could not stop myself thinking about this private discussion between Sir Percival and the Count, postponed all day and now, it seemed, about to take place in the silence and loneliness of the night. After a while, I went from my bedroom into my sitting room, and closed the door between the rooms. It was dark, as no candles were lit, and I looked out of the open window for some time, down into the blackness of the garden. There was a smell like rain in the still, heavy air.

Suddenly I saw two red points of light advancing in the dark and stopping below my bedroom window, inside which a candle was burning. One red point was small, the other was big. The Count smoking a cigarette, and Sir Percival smoking a cigar, I think. They could not see me in the darkness of my sitting room, so I waited to hear what they said.

'Why don't you come in and sit down?' Sir Percival said.

'Wait till we see that light go out,' replied the Count. 'When I know she's in bed, and I have checked the rooms on each side of the library, then we will talk.'

Such secrecy! I decided I must listen to this conversation, in spite of the Count's efforts to keep it private. The idea terrified me, but Laura's happiness — perhaps even her life — might depend on what I heard. How could I do it? I realized I could get out on to the flat verandah roof which ran past the bedrooms, about three feet below the windows. It was narrow, but there was room to move along it till I was above the library window. The Count and Sir Percival usually sat near the open window, smoking, and if they did, I would be able to hear them from above.

I went back to my bedroom, put on a long dark cloak with a hood, and put out the candle. Then, after a while, I returned to my sitting room and climbed out of the window on to the verandah roof. My heart began to beat very fast. I had to pass five windows — four were dark, but the fifth window was the Countess's room, and it looked out over the exact place above the library where I planned to sit. And there was still a light in it. I crept along the roof, then went down on my hands and knees to pass her window. As I passed, I looked up — and saw her shadow against the thin curtains at the window...

I stop breathing. Has she heard me? Will she look out? No, the shadow moves away, she's gone. Now I move to my position at the edge of the roof and begin to listen. Are they there, or have they gone elsewhere for their talk? Ah, I can hear the Count's voice.

'Miss Halcombe's light is out, the rooms next door are empty, the only window with a light in is my wife's — so now we may talk. We are at a serious crisis in our affairs, Percival, and we must decide about the future tonight.'

'It's a worse crisis than you think,' growls Sir Percival.

'Listen, Percival. This is our situation. We both came to this house in need of money and the only way of getting it was with the help of your wife. Now what did I tell you? I told you never to lose your temper with her, and especially never with her sister, Miss Halcombe. And have you remembered this? Not once. Your mad temper lost your wife's signature, lost the ready money, made Miss Halcombe write to the lawyer for the first time —'

'First time! Has she written again?'

'Yes, she has written again today.'

What! How does he know that? Did he follow me to the hotel? But even if he did, he couldn't have seen the letters — they went straight from my hand to Fanny's dress. So how does he know?

'You're lucky,' the Count continues, 'that you have me in the house to undo the harm that you do. Lucky that I said no when you were mad enough to make your wife a prisoner and keep her from Miss Halcombe. Can't you see that Miss Halcombe has the courage and understanding of a man? How I admire that woman! But she stands like a rock between us and that pretty little wife of yours. Now, the money. We have obtained a loan — a horribly expensive loan — by signing a document promising to repay it in three months. When the time comes, is there really no way to repay the money except by the help of your wife?'

'None.'

'What money do you actually get from your wife at present?'

'Only the income from her twenty thousand pounds.'

'Do you expect any more from your wife?'

'Absolutely nothing — except in the case of her death.'

'Aha! In the case of her death.'

A pause. It has begun to rain, and already I feel wet and cold.

Sir Percival again. 'If she leaves no children, I get her twenty thousand pounds.'

'Percival! Do you care about your wife?'

'Fosco! That's a very direct question.'

'Let's say your wife dies before the end of the summer — '

'Forget it, Fosco!'

'You would gain twenty thousand pounds.'

'Speak for yourself as well as for me, Fosco. You would also gain — my wife's death would be ten thousand pounds in your wife's pocket.'

'Percival, here is the position. If your wife lives, you pay that debt with her signature on the document. If your wife dies, you pay the debt with her death.'

The light in Madame Fosco's room goes out, and the verandah roof is now sunk in darkness. The rain continues. I Listen with every nerve in my body, memorizing word after word.

'Percival, you must now leave this matter in my hands. I have more than two months to find the solution, so let's not talk about it any more. Let me help you with your other difficulty — the difficulty that seems to have the name of Anne Catherick.'

'Look, Fosco, we may be friends, but we still have our secrets. This does not concern you. Please don't ask me about it.'

'My friend, I can respect a secret. So I won't ask you to tell me. But can I help you all the same?'

'If I don't find Anne Catherick, I'm a lost man. Both she and her mother know this — this secret. It could ruin me, Fosco. Anne Catherick has spoken to my wife and I'm sure she's told her.'

'But as your wife, surely it's in her interest to keep it a secret?'

'If she loved me, that would be true. But she's in love with someone she met before we married, a drawing teacher called Walter Hartright. And who helped Anne Catherick escape from the asylum? Hartright. Who saw her again in Cumberland? Hartright. He knows the secret, and my wife knows the secret. If they get together, they will use it against me.'

'Yes, yes, I see. Where is Mr Hartright?'

'Out of the country. He sailed for America.'

'Don't worry, then. I will deal with him if he ever comes back. Depend on it. But first we must find Anne Catherick. What about her mother? Can she be trusted?'

'It's in her interest not to tell anyone the secret.'

'Good. Now, how will I recognize Anne Catherick?'

'Easily. She's the pale, sickly likeness of my wife.'

A noise as a chair is pushed back. The Count has jumped to his feet and is walking about. He seems amazed.

'What!!! Are she and your wife related to each other?'

'Not at all.'

'And yet so alike? Well, I will know her when I see her.'

'What the devil are you laughing about, Fosco?'

'Just a thought, my good friend, just a thought. But enough for tonight. You will pay the debt and find Anne Catherick. I promise you. You can put your mind at rest, Percival.'

Not another word is spoken. I hear the library door close. I am wet to the skin, stiff and aching with the cold. At first I can't move, but slowly, painfully, I creep back to my window and climb in. As I fall on the floor, I hear the clock strike a quarter past one. Time passes. Somehow I manage to get up and put on dry clothes. I am burning hot — and shivering with cold. I know I must write down what I have heard, so I find paper and pen and write without stopping. The fever rises in me, burning, burning. I open the window for cool air...

Eight o'clock. Bright sunshine, which hammers at my eyes. My head aches, my bones ache, my skin burns, yet I cannot stop shivering. I lie down to sleep, my writing finished, and in my fever I see Count Fosco come into my room and read the pages I have written. He smiles. I am helpless — unable to move, speak, breathe... and I sink into the long, black night of illness...


untidy adj. not neat or orderly 不整齐的

deliberate adj. leisurely, unhurried 不慌不忙的

impatiently adv. lacking patience or tolerance 不耐烦地;着急地

go out put out 吹灭;熄灭

verandah n. an open area with a floor and a roof that is built on the side of a house on the ground floor 游廊

crisis n. time of danger or difficulty 危机

understanding n. the ability to understand or think 见识

memorize v. commit to memory 记住

in her interest as something that is advantageous to her 对她有利

hammer at inflict pain at 使疼痛

7.深夜密谈

我回到庄园时,只剩20分钟就要吃晚餐了——我还得溜进劳拉的房间,告诉她信已经安全地交给范妮了。

劳拉脸色苍白。“我不下楼吃晚饭了,”她说,“珀西瓦尔爵士刚来过,站在门口朝我大喊,要我告诉他安妮·凯瑟里克在哪儿。”

“这起码说明他还没找到她。”我说。

吃晚饭的时候,福斯科伯爵满脸通红,衣服也有些不整。他也出去了吗,我心里疑惑。他似乎有什么秘密的困扰,几乎和珀西瓦尔爵士一样一言不发。吃罢饭,伯爵夫人和我往外走的时候,伯爵也站起身。

“你去哪里,福斯科?”珀西瓦尔爵士问道,“坐下再喝一杯。我要同你单独谈一谈。”

“现在不行,珀西瓦尔。以后吧。”伯爵回答。

白天的时候我也听到珀西瓦尔爵士提出同样的要求,这是一天之内伯爵第二次推迟和珀西瓦尔谈话了。为什么呢?我不明白。珀西瓦尔爵士这么着急要和伯爵谈什么呢?

我们走进客厅,平常总是慢条斯理的伯爵夫人迅速地喝完茶,不声不响地走了出去。我也朝外面走,但是伯爵叫住了我。他先是要我帮他添茶,然后又问我对某些音乐的看法,还在钢琴上弹了几首闹哄哄的意大利曲子。最后,我才得以离开他,来到劳拉的房间。我问她有没有看见伯爵夫人或是听见她的动静?她说没有。我们俩一直聊到10点,我下楼跟大家道晚安。珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵夫妇都在客厅坐着。我注意到伯爵夫人的脸通红。她刚才去哪儿了,干什么去了?看到我在打量她,伯爵夫人笑了笑,好像我们两个私下开过什么玩笑似的。

我同大家道了晚安。离开客厅的时候,我听见珀西瓦尔爵士不耐烦地对伯爵说:“到外面来抽支烟,福斯科。”

“好的,珀西瓦尔。等女士们都去睡了以后。”伯爵说。

回到楼上的房间,我还在想珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵的密谈,拖了一天,到现在终于要在寂静的夜晚进行了。过了一会儿,我从卧室来到我的客厅,把房门关好。房间漆黑一片,没有点蜡烛。我透过窗子向外望了一会儿,外面的花园一片黑暗,宁静、潮湿的空气中有一种雨的味道。

突然,我看到黑暗中有两个红色的亮点在移动,然后在我卧室的窗下停住了,我卧室里点着一支蜡烛。一个亮点小,另一个大些。我想肯定是伯爵在抽烟卷,珀西瓦尔爵士在抽雪茄。我的客厅是黑的,他们看不见我。因此,我在客厅等着听他们说什么。

“为什么不进屋,坐下来谈?”珀西瓦尔爵士说。

“等到那蜡烛灭了再说,”伯爵说,“等她睡了,我再查看一下书房两边的房间,然后我们再谈。”

那么机密!不管伯爵怎样保密,我一定要听听这场谈话。这个想法使我很害怕,但是劳拉的幸福——甚或她的生命——可能都跟我听到的内容有关。我怎么去偷听呢?我想到可以从游廊的平顶上过去,平顶连着好几间卧室,比窗户大约低3英尺。顶子很窄,但还是可以过去,到达书房窗户的上面。伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士经常坐在敞开的窗子旁抽烟,如果是这样的话,我就可以从上面偷听他们的谈话了。

我回到卧室,穿上一件长长的带有兜帽的黑色斗篷,吹灭了蜡烛。呆了一会儿,我回到客厅,爬出窗户来到游廊的平顶上。我的心跳开始加速。我必须爬过五个窗子,其中四个已经没有了亮光,可第五个是伯爵夫人的房间,那儿恰好在书房上面,正是我要偷听的地方。而且,伯爵夫人的房间里还亮着烛光。我沿着平顶往前移动,然后手脚并用地爬过她的窗子。经过她窗下时,我抬头看了看——透过薄薄的窗帘看见她在窗前的身影……

我屏住呼吸。她是不是听见我在这儿了?她会向外看吗?没有,影子移开了,她走了。我来到平顶的边上,找好了偷听的位置。他们在这儿吗?会不会到别的地方去谈?啊,我听见伯爵的声音了。

“哈尔库姆小姐房间的蜡烛灭了,这两边的房间没人,唯一有亮光的窗户是我妻子的房间——好了,我们现在可以谈了。珀西瓦尔,我们的事现在出现了严重危机,今晚我们必须计划一下该怎么办。”

“事情比你想的还要糟。”珀西瓦尔爵士嘀咕着。

“听着,珀西瓦尔。这就是我们两人的处境。我们都是为了钱才到这个庄园来的,而得到钱的唯一途径是通过你的妻子。我跟你说过什么?我告诉你千万不要跟你妻子发脾气,尤其不能和她姐姐哈尔库姆小姐发脾气。可是你记住了吗?根本没有。你的坏脾气让我们失去了你妻子的签字,到手的钱没了,还让哈尔库姆小姐给律师写了第一封信——”

“第一封信?她又写信了吗?”

“是的,她今天又写信了。”

什么!他是怎么知道的?他是不是跟踪我去了旅店?但是就算他去了,也不会看到那两封信的——信是直接从我手里到了范妮的衣服里的。那他是怎么知道的呢?

“你很走运,”伯爵接着说,“有我在这儿帮你解决麻烦。你很走运,在你发疯一样把你的妻子当犯人关起来,不让她见哈尔库姆小姐的时候,我出来阻拦了你。你看不出来吗?哈尔库姆小姐具有男人一样的勇气和见识,我非常敬佩她!但是,她就像挡在我们和你那漂亮小妻子之间的一块巨石。现在说钱的问题。我们得到了一笔贷款——一笔代价极大的贷款——我们签了字,答应三个月后还钱。到时候,除了靠你妻子就没有任何办法还钱了吗?”

“没有。”

“你现在从你妻子那儿可以得到什么钱?”

“只有她那20,000英镑带来的收入。”

“你还能从你妻子身上得到更多的钱吗?”

“一分都没有——除非她死了”

“呵!除非她死了。”

谈话暂停了。天开始下雨,我感到身上又湿又冷。

珀西瓦尔爵士接着说:“如果她没留下孩子,我可以得到她那20,000英镑。”

“珀西瓦尔!你真的在乎你妻子吗?”

“福斯科!这个问题太直接了。”

“假如你妻子在夏末死去——”

“别说了,福斯科!”

“你会得到20,000英镑。”

“别光说我,还有你,福斯科。你也会受益,妻子死了,妻子口袋里就会装进10,000英镑。”

“珀西瓦尔,这就是现在的局面。如果你妻子活着,你需要得到她签字来还债;如果你妻子死了,你就用她的死来还债。”

福斯科夫人房间的烛光熄灭了,游廊顶上一团漆黑。雨还在下。我全神贯注地听着,把每个字都记在心里。

“珀西瓦尔,你现在必须把这件事交给我来办,我有两个多月的时间去想办法,现在咱们先不谈这个。让我来帮你解决另一个麻烦——那个好像和安妮·凯瑟里克这个名字有关的麻烦。”

“瞧,福斯科,我们或许是朋友,但我们都有各自的秘密。这件事与你无关。请你不要问我这件事。”

“我的朋友,我可以尊重你的秘密。我不问你的秘密是什么,但不管怎么说,我能帮你点儿什么吗?”

“假如找不到安妮·凯瑟里克,我就完了。她和她母亲都知道那个——那个秘密。那个秘密会毁了我,福斯科。安妮·凯瑟里克找过我妻子,我敢肯定她已经把秘密告诉我妻子了。”

“可是,作为你的妻子,保守这个秘密不也对她有好处吗?”

“如果她爱我,应该是这样的。但是,她爱上了一个她在我们结婚以前认识的人,一个叫沃尔特·哈特里特的绘画教师。是谁帮助安妮·凯瑟里克从精神病院逃走的?是哈特里特。又是谁在坎伯兰郡跟她见面?还是哈特里特。他知道这个秘密,我妻子也知道这个秘密。要是他们两个聚到一块儿,肯定利用这个秘密来对付我。”

“说的对,说的对,我明白了。哈特里特先生现在在哪儿?”

“在国外。他去美洲了。”

“那就不用担心了。他要是回来,我来对付他。你放心。不过我们还是要先找到安妮·凯瑟里克。她母亲呢?可信吗?”

“保守这个秘密对她有好处。”

“很好。不过我怎么才能认出安妮·凯瑟里克来?”

“这容易。她长得很像我妻子,只是脸色苍白,面容憔悴。”

我听见向后移动椅子的声响。伯爵站了起来,在屋里来回走动着,他显得非常惊讶。

alt

“什么!她跟你妻子有亲戚关系吗?”

“一点儿没有。”

“那就这么相像?我见到她会认出来的。”

“你到底在笑什么,福斯科?”

“只是一个想法,我的好朋友,一个想法而己。不过今晚就谈到这儿。你会还清债务,找到安妮·凯瑟里克的。我敢保证。你就放心吧,珀西瓦尔。”

谈话结束了。我听到书房的门关上了。我身上已经湿透,身体被冻得又僵又疼。起初整个人都动不了。我艰难地慢慢爬回我的窗边,爬进屋里。我跳到地板上时,听见钟响了,1点一刻。时间过得真快。我挣扎着起来,换上干衣服。我浑身发烫——同时也冷得打哆嗦。我明白我必须把听到的全都写下来,于是找出纸笔,开始不停地写起来。我烧得越来越厉害,浑身好像着了火。我打开窗户,让冷空气进来……

8点了。明媚的阳光使我的眼睛隐隐作痛。我头痛得非常厉害,全身酸痛,而且发烫,还不停地打哆嗦。我躺下睡觉,记录已经写完了。迷迷糊糊地,我看见福斯科伯爵进到我的房间,看了我写的东西。他笑了笑。我毫无办法——不能动,不能说话,不能呼吸……我陷入长长的昏迷,眼前一片黑暗……

8
Fever

While I lay unconscious in my illness, I knew nothing, of course, of the events happening around me. It was only much later that I learnt from other people what had happened.

When I eventually returned to Limmeridge, Fanny told me about the letters and the night she had left Blackwater.

'You left me at about seven, miss, and at nine o'clock I had another visitor — the Countess! Yes, I was so surprised. But she was very kind. She saw that I was upset at leaving and insisted on having some tea with me. So I drank my tea, and five minutes later I fainted — for the first time in my life! When I woke up, it was about half an hour later. A lady from the hotel was looking after me as the Countess had had to go home. I checked the letters in my dress, miss, and they were both there, quite safe.

'And just as you told me, in London I posted the letter to Mr Kyrle, and as soon as I got to Limmeridge, I delivered the other letter personally to Mr Fairlie. I told him all about being dismissed by Sir Percival and everything, and what had happened at the hotel, but, well, he didn't seem very interested, miss.'

That last piece of information did not surprise me in the least. Had Laura's uncle ever been interested in anybody except himself? When I went to talk to him, he was full of excuses.

'My nerves, dear Marian, remember my nerves! Yes, of course I will tell you about the letters, but please don't get excited and go around banging doors! Try to stay calm.'

'I suppose my letter about Laura upset you,' I said.

'Of course it did, dear Marian! What was I to do? You told me Laura needed to escape from her husband and to come to Limmeridge. But suppose Sir Percival had come after her? Think of the noise, the arguments, the banging of doors! That's why I wrote to you, to beg you to come here first by yourself, to talk the matter over with me.'

I never saw that letter, of course, as it arrived at Blackwater when I was unconscious with fever.

'And Mr Kyrle wrote to you as well, didn't he?' I said.

'Yes. He wrote to say he had received an envelope addressed to him in your handwriting, but which contained only a plain piece of paper without a word on it. He had written to you about it, and had received no reply. Why he expected me to explain this mystery, I had no idea. And that's what I told him.'

So helpful, I thought bitterly. But there was no point in saying anything. 'And were you surprised not to hear from me again?'

'Indeed I was, until my sister's foreign husband, that extraordinary Count Fosco, came to see me. Such a huge man!' said Mr Fairlie, his eyes closing at the memory. 'But surprisingly quiet on his feet. Anyway, he explained how ill you were, dear Marian, which was why you hadn't replied to my letter. I was extremely shocked and sorry to hear about your illness. But the Count did talk so much — I thought he would never leave!'

'And he persuaded you to write to Laura,' I said, trying to keep my voice calm and quiet.

'Yes, he urged me — in fact, practically ordered me — to invite Laura here at once. She was too nervous and upset to be of any use to you in the sick-room, he said, and the situation with Sir Percival was growing more dangerous every day. There was no trouble with the journey, because he and his wife had just rented a house in London. So Laura could travel up to London, stay the night with them, and travel on to Cumberland the next day.'

'So you wrote the letter and gave it to him,' I said.

'Where was the harm in it? In any case, I never for a moment thought that Laura would leave you alone when you were so ill. And how was I to know what shocking event was about to take place? No one could possibly say that I was to blame …'

*  *  *

I know now exactly who was to blame, but it took quite a time to put all the different pieces of information together. When I first began to be aware of my surroundings again during my recovery, I knew nothing, of course, about the letters. I knew only that I was not in my usual bedroom and there was a foreign lady looking after me. I had no idea who she was and she would not answer any of my questions. So I was very relieved a few days later when the familiar face of Mrs Michelson appeared.

'Oh, Mrs Michelson,' I said, 'I'm so glad to see you. Please tell me what's been happening.'

'You've had typhus fever, Miss Halcombe. You've been very ill. But you're getting stronger now, I'm happy to say.'

'Typhus! No wonder I feel so weak. And my sister, Lady Glyde — I do hope she didn't catch the infection?'

'No, no, she didn't.'

Mrs Michelson would not look me in the face, and I began to feel worried. Was she afraid to tell me something?

'Is my sister ill? Please, Mrs Michelson, I must know!'

'No, she's not ill. But... but she's not here. She went away yesterday to London, and is going on to Limmeridge today.'

I stared at her. Laura gone? I could not believe it. What did it mean? Had something terrible happened? I remembered the conversation I heard during the night on the verandah roof, and my heart filled with fear.

'And Sir Percival …?' I could not finish my question.

'Sir Percival left the house last night, to go abroad,' she said. 'The Count and Countess have gone to London, and the servants have all been dismissed, except for a cook and the gardener. You and I are the only people living in the house, Miss Halcombe.'

The shock of this news was so great that I felt faint. Mrs Michelson hurried to fetch me a glass of water.

'Oh, Miss Halcombe, I'm sorry,' she said. 'Try not to worry. You must rest now, and try to sleep a little.'

Later, when I felt stronger, we talked again. 'Tell me everything you can remember, from the day I fell ill,' I begged Mrs Michelson. 'I must know what happened.'

'Well, Miss Halcombe, on that first morning a servant found you, lying on your bed in a fever, holding a pen tightly in your hand. The doctor was called at once, a Mr Dawson, who said you were very ill. The Countess and I acted as your nurses — Lady Glyde wanted to help, but she was so upset at seeing you unconscious that she couldn't stop crying.

'Sir Percival and the Count were concerned about you too, though they seemed worried about something else as well. In fact, the Count spent three days down by the lake, at that old boat-house, and I remember he came in once when I was going through the hall. Sir Percival came rushing out of the library, saying, "Have you found her?" I didn't hear the answer and I have no idea who they were talking about.'

I had a very good idea who they were talking about, but it was obvious that Mrs Michelson didn't, so I said nothing.

'Your fever got worse,' Mrs Michelson went on. 'The Count said we needed a nurse to help us, so Madame Fosco took the train to London and came back with Mrs Rubelle.'

'Is that the foreign lady who was looking after me before you appeared, Mrs Michelson?' I asked.

'Yes, that's right. She didn't say very much, but she was a capable nurse. I had no complaints about her work. Mr Dawson, the doctor, was suspicious of her because she was recommended by the Count, and he didn't like the Count at all.'

'Why was that?' I asked.

'The Count had a lot of medical knowledge, you see, and he was always suggesting to Mr Dawson ways of reducing your fever. Mr Dawson called it interference and got quite angry about it. But in fact, miss, the Count recognized you had typhus fever before Mr Dawson did. He — the Count, that is — went away to London for a week, and when he came back, he took one look at you and said "Typhus". Mr Dawson sent to London for another doctor, who came and said the same thing. Then we had a very worrying ten days, when your life was in danger, but at last the doctor said you were through the worst and with good nursing care you would recover. Lady Glyde was so overcome by this happy news that she became ill herself and had to be put to bed.'

'My sister has always had delicate health,' I said.

'Yes, she's not strong. Anyway, Miss Halcombe, it was at this point that disturbing things started to happen. First, the Count and Mr Dawson argued again so fiercely that Mr Dawson left, saying he refused to offer his services any more. Next, Sir Percival told me that he was going to close the house. As soon as you and Lady Glyde were able to travel, he said, you would be going away for a change of air. He told me to dismiss all the servants, except a girl to do the cooking, and a gardener. Imagine! Just like that! I tell you, Miss Halcombe, if I hadn't felt so sorry for you and Lady Glyde, I would have resigned at once!

'The last thing was very strange indeed,' said Mrs Michelson, shaking her head. 'Sir Percival said that you and Lady Glyde would benefit from a stay at the seaside town of Torquay. He told me to go there to look for a suitable house to rent, and told me how much money I could pay. Well, I knew it wasn't enough, and I wish now that I hadn't gone, but he was my employer so I thought I had to obey his orders. I returned yesterday, after two days away, and told Sir Percival that it was impossible to find a house at such a low rent. Sir Percival showed no interest in my news at all. He just said that the Count and Countess had left Blackwater Park for their new house in London.'

Mrs Michelson looked at me anxiously. 'I think you'll find the next part of the story very upsetting,' she said. 'Poor Lady Glyde was cruelly deceived by her husband.'

'You don't surprise me,' I murmured. 'Please go on.'

'After seeing Sir Percival, I went upstairs to see you and Lady Glyde. Your sister, though still very weak, was feeling better and wanted to get up and go and visit you in your room. I helped her to dress and as we went down the passage, we met Sir Percival.

'"If you're going to see your sister, you won't find her," Sir Percival says. "She left the house yesterday with Fosco and his wife. She decided to go with them to London, on her way to Limmeridge. Mrs Rubelle went too, to look after her on the journey. You can look in her room if you don't believe me."

'I was shocked and amazed by this, and Lady Glyde's face went as white as a sheet. She almost ran down the passage and threw open the door to your room. It was empty.

'Then she cries out to Sir Percival, "Marian was much too ill to travel. Even if she did go, she would never leave without saying goodbye to me first. And why would she go to Limmeridge alone, leaving me here at Blackwater Park?"

'"Because your uncle won't receive you till he has seen your sister first," says Sir Percival. "Have you forgotten the letter he wrote to her at the beginning of her illness?"

'All through this interview, Miss Halcombe, I thought Sir Percival seemed very strange — jumpy and nervous, not at all his usual self. And now he just turned and walked away. Lady Glyde was shaking with fear, and looked at me with terror in her eyes. "Something's happened to my sister. I must follow her — I must see that she's alive and well with my own eyes. Please, Mrs Michelson, come down with me to Sir Percival. Stay with me, please!" She held my arm so tightly that I had to go with her.

'Sir Percival was in the dining room, drinking. He drank at least four glasses of wine while we were in there, Miss Halcombe. Lady Glyde was very brave, I thought. She said, "If my sister is well enough to travel, then so am I. Please allow me to follow her at once by the afternoon train."

'Sir Percival was so rude and rough with her. "You can go tomorrow," he said. "I'll write to Fosco. He can meet you at the station and you'll stay at his house overnight."

'Lady Glyde's hand began to tremble violently on my arm. "I would rather not stay at the Count's house," she said.

'Sir Percival then got very angry. "Why not?" he shouted." What's wrong with sleeping at your aunt's house? Your sister slept there last night to break her journey, and so will you. That's what your uncle, Mr Fairlie, wants you to do as well. Here — there's a letter from him. I forgot to send it up to you."

'Poor Lady Glyde was shaking so much that she gave me the letter to read to her. It was very short. I remember it, word for word: Dear Laura, please come whenever you like. Break the journey by sleeping at your aunt's house. Sorry to hear of Marian's illness. Your fond uncle, Frederick Fairlie.

'Lady Glyde didn't try to argue any more, and we went back upstairs. It seemed quite a sensible plan to me, Miss Halcombe, and I couldn't understand why Lady Glyde was so terrified of Count Fosco. She walked up and down her room, whispering, "Poor Marian — in that horrible man's power! I must find her, even if I have to follow her to Count Fosco's house."

'The next day I helped Lady Glyde get ready and went with her to the station. "If Marian has already left for Limmeridge, I won't stay at the Count's house," she told me. "I'll go and stay with Mrs Vesey, my old governess." As the train pulled away, I saw her pale, frightened face at the window. I felt so sad for her.

'Then I came back here. Imagine my surprise, Miss Halcombe, when I saw Mrs Rubelle walking in the garden! "What are you doing here?" I said. "You went to London with the Foscos and Miss Halcombe!" And then it all came out. You were still in the house. While I was out of the way in Torquay, they moved you to a room in an unused part of the house and kept you hidden. You must have been in a very deep sleep when they moved you. Perhaps they drugged you — I don't know. Then Sir Percival appeared and gave me this explanation. It was all for his wife's own good, he said. She needed a change of air, and would not have gone to Limmeridge if she had known that you were still in the house. He spoke in such a violent, angry way that I did not dare to express my opinion.

'So you see, Miss Halcombe, that was how poor Lady Glyde was deceived. It was wicked and cruel. I would have resigned my position immediately, but Sir Percival told me that Mrs Rubelle was leaving and there would be no one to look after you if I left too. So, naturally, I stayed. Sir Percival left last night, as I told you. The gardener said he seemed half mad. He called for his carriage, and drove away like an escaped criminal, saying his house was a prison and he would never return to it. I hope and pray, Miss Halcombe, that I never see that man again.'

Poor Laura — how she must have suffered! There was nothing I could do. I could not go after her as I was too weak even to stand. I hoped desperately that she had found out about the deception and would write soon to tell me that she was safe.

*  *  *

A letter came a few days later, but it was not for me, and not from Laura. It was for Mrs Michelson from Madame Fosco.

Mrs Michelson came into my room with the letter in her hand. Mr Dawson, who had agreed to be my doctor again now that the Count had gone, was behind her. I took one look at both their faces, and sat up in bed, terrified.

'What is it?' I gasped. 'You have some dreadful news for me. I can see it in your faces.'

Mrs Michelson sat down on the edge of the bed and took my hand. 'Your poor, dear sister, Lady Glyde...' she began.

The room began to darken around me, as though night was falling, and the words seemed to come from a great distance.

'... was taken seriously ill when she arrived at her aunt's house in London, and died the next day, very suddenly. She is to be buried at Limmeridge, in her mother's grave.'

*  *  *

Kind Mrs Michelson nursed me through my second illness, with Mr Dawson's help. I was not able to travel for more than three weeks, but eventually I found the strength to leave that hated house and return to Limmeridge. Mrs Michelson and I travelled together to London, where I went to see Mr Kyrle. To him I revealed the terrible suspicions in my mind about the circumstances of my sister's death. He was most concerned and promised to make enquiries for me.

I went on to Limmeridge House and a few days later Mr Kyrle wrote to me there. He had taken statements from several witnesses, he said, and was convinced that nothing suspicious had happened. He sent copies of the statements for my information. This was the one by the Count's cook, Mrs Hester Pinhorn:


I was recently employed as a cook by the Count and Countess Fosco at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. One day near the end of July, the Countess's niece, Lady Glyde, arrived at the house. She immediately fell ill. I saw her lying on the sofa, her face all white. I ran out for a doctor and came back with Mr Goodricke. He examined her and said she had a very serious heart disease. During the night she got worse. Then, at about five o'clock the next day, she lost consciousness. The doctor went in and, after putting his hand on her heart, announced that she was dead. He said that, as the Count was a foreigner, he himself would go to record the death at the district office. The Count and Countess were very badly affected by the lady's death. The lady's husband was abroad, so they arranged the funeral themselves, which took place in Cumberland.


I was still very weak from my long illness, and despair nearly overtook me at this point. I had no friend to turn to, and no idea what to do next. I went every day to the churchyard, to put flowers on the grave and to read again those sad, sad words.


In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde

Wife of Sir Percival Glyde, of Blackwater Park, Hampshire

Born 27th March 1829

Died 25th July 1850


personally adv. in person 亲自

practically adv. almost 几乎

rent v. use at a rent

typhus n. a serious infectious disease 斑疹伤寒

catch the infection be affected by the infectious disease 被传染

be through have passed 度过

fiercely adv. violently 激烈地

obey v. carry out a command 服从

jumpy adj. making sudden movements 躁动的

pull away (of a train ) leave (火车)离开;开走

drug v. to give someone a drug, esp in order to make them feel tired or go to sleep 用药麻醉

for one's good for one's interest 为了……的利益;为了……好

be convinced be certain that something is true 确信

announce v. make publicly known 宣布

overtake v. overwhelm 击垮

8.高烧

我在床上昏睡着,对周围发生了什么当然一无所知。很长时间以后,我才从别人那里得知出了什么事。

后来,我回到利默里奇,范妮告诉我那两封信的事以及她离开布莱克沃特那天晚上发生的事情。

“你从我那儿走的时候是7点钟,9点钟又来了一位客人——是伯爵夫人!没错,我非常吃惊。但她特别和善。她看出我在为离开而难过,就坚持要和我喝茶。我喝了茶,5分钟后就晕过去了——这可是我头一回晕过去!我醒的时候已经过了大约半小时。旅店的一位女士在照看我,伯爵夫人已经回去了。我检查衣服里的信,两封信都在,很安全。

“我照你说的,在伦敦把给克尔先生的信寄了出去,一到利默里奇,就把另一封信亲自交给了费尔利先生。我告诉他,我被珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了,还有在那边发生了什么以及旅店的事情,但是他好像对这些都没什么兴趣,小姐。”

对最后一点,我丝毫不觉得奇怪。劳拉的这个叔叔,除了对他自己的事还对什么有兴趣?我去找他谈的时候,他满嘴借口。

“我的神经,亲爱的玛丽安,别忘了我的神经不好!是的,我当然会告诉你信的事,可是请你不要激动,不要总那么使劲儿关门!请你保持冷静。”

“我想我写给你关于劳拉的信让你担心了吧。”我说。

“当然让我担心了,亲爱的玛丽安!我该怎么做呢?你说劳拉需要逃离她丈夫,回到利默里奇来。但是,如果珀西瓦尔爵士随后过来找她怎么办?想想那会有多少噪音、吵闹、摔门声!这就是我为什么给你写信,叫你自己先回来,跟我谈谈这件事。”

我当然没见过那封信,因为信到布莱克沃特的时候,我正发着高烧,昏睡不醒。

“克尔先生也给你写信了,是吗?”我问。

“是的,他写信给我说,他收到一个署名给他的信封,是你的笔迹,但是里面只有一张白纸,一个字也没有。他给你写过信,但没收到回音。我不明白他为什么叫解释这个迷,我就这么跟他说的。”

真是挺帮忙的,我心里恨恨地想。现在说什么也没用了。“再没接到我的来信,你不感到奇怪吗?”

“我的确感到奇怪,直到我的那个外国妹夫,福斯科伯爵过来看我,我才明白发生了什么。他可真胖!”费尔利先生闭上眼睛,陷入回忆之中,“但是他走路却很轻。他告诉我你病得非常厉害,所以没有回信。听说你生病我非常震惊,也很难过。可是,伯爵没完没了地跟我说话——我简直觉得他不想走了!”

“是他让你给劳拉写信的吧。”我尽量用平和的语气说。

“是的,他请求我——实际上是命令我——让劳拉马上回到这儿来。他说劳拉非常紧张害怕,在你的房间里也帮不了什么忙。而且珀西瓦尔爵士一天比一天危险。旅途中不会有问题,因为他和妻子刚刚在伦敦租了一栋房子,劳拉可以先到伦敦,在他们那里住一晚,第二天再赶往坎伯兰郡。”

“所以,你就写了那封信,让他拿走了?”我问。

“这有什么不好吗?不管怎样,我根本不相信劳拉会在你病重的时候丢下你不管。而且我怎么知道将要发生什么事?谁也不能把事情怪到我头上……”

*  *  *

现在我知道究竟是谁在搞鬼了,但是把各种消息都串起来颇费了一些时间。我刚从昏迷中醒来,注意到周围的时候,对信的事自然一无所知。我只知道自己不在原来的卧室,一位外国女士在旁边照顾我。我不知道她是谁,她也不回答我的任何问题。因此,几天后当米切尔森太太熟悉的脸出现在我面前时,我大大地松了一口气。

“噢,米切尔森太太,”我说,“见到你真是太高兴了。快告诉我到底发生了什么?”

“你得了斑疹伤寒,哈尔库姆小姐。你病得很厉害。不过,我很高兴你现在恢复得很好。”

“斑疹伤寒!怪不得我这么虚弱。我妹妹,格莱德夫人——我希望她没被传染吧?”

“没有,她没有被传染。”

米切尔森太太不敢正眼看我,我开始担心起来,她是不是害怕告诉我什么事情?

“我妹妹病了吗?米切尔森太太,我必须知道真相!”

“没有,她没病。不过……不过她已经不在这儿了。她昨天去了伦敦,准备今天去利默里奇。”

我盯着她。劳拉走了?我不信。这说明什么呢?出了可怕的事?我记起了在游廊顶上听到的谈话,心里充满了恐惧。

“那珀西瓦尔爵士……?”我无法把话讲完。

“珀西瓦尔爵士昨晚离开庄园,到国外去了,”她说,“伯爵夫妇去了伦敦,仆人们全都遣散了,就剩下一个厨师和一个园丁。庄园里只有你和我了,哈尔库姆小姐。”

这个消息对我的震动太大,我感到一阵眩晕,米切尔森太太赶忙去为我拿了杯水来。

“哦,哈尔库姆小姐,真抱歉,”米切尔森太太说,“你别担心,一定要好好休息,试着睡一会儿吧。”

后来,我身上有些力气了,我们又聊起来。“告诉我,自从我生病那天起都发生了什么?”我恳求米切尔森太太,“我一定要知道出了什么事。”

“好吧,哈尔库姆小姐。头一天早上,一个仆人发现你躺在床上,发着高烧,手里还紧紧握着钢笔。我们很快叫来了一位医生,道森先生。他说你病得很厉害。伯爵夫人和我一起照顾你——格莱德夫人也想帮忙,但是看到你昏迷的样子,她很难过,不住地哭。

“珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵也都为你担心,不过他们两人好像还在为别的事担心。实际上,伯爵在湖边呆了三天,就在那个老船屋里。我记得他有一次回来,我正路过大厅。这时,珀西瓦尔爵士从书房冲出来问他:‘找到她了吗?’我没听到回答,也不知道他们说的是谁。”

我非常清楚他们说的是谁,明显米切尔森太太不知道,所以我没有说话。

“你烧得越来越厉害,”米切尔森太太接着说,“伯爵说我们需要找一个护士帮忙,于是福斯科夫人坐火车去了伦敦,带回了鲁贝尔太太。”

“就是那位在你来之前照顾我的外国女士吗,米切尔森太太?”

“对,就是她。她很少说话,但很能干。我对她干活儿挑不出任何毛病。道森先生,那位医生,对她有怀疑,因为她是伯爵推荐的,而道森先生一点儿也不喜欢伯爵。”

“为什么呢?”我问。

“你知道伯爵懂得许多医学知识,他不断地向道森先生提出给你退烧的办法。道森先生非常生气,说这是干涉他的工作。但实际上,小姐,伯爵比道森先生更早地看出你得了斑疹伤寒。他——我是说伯爵——到伦敦去了一星期,回来后看了你一眼就说是‘斑疹伤寒’。道森先生从伦敦又请来一位医生,也说是斑疹伤寒。接下来的十天我们大家都非常担心,你当时有生命危险。不过最后,医生说你已经度过了危险期,只要得到精心照顾,就会好起来。听到这个好消息,格莱德夫人过于高兴,结果她自己病倒了,不得不卧床休息。”

“我妹妹的身体一直很弱。”我说。

“是的,她的身体不太好。不过,哈尔库姆小姐,就在这个时候,令人心烦的事接二连三地发生了。先是伯爵和道森先生大吵了一架,道森先生走了,他说不愿意再干了。然后,珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我他准备关闭庄园。他说等你和格莱德夫人能出门旅行了,就应该离开这里,换换环境。他让我辞退了所有的仆人,只留下一个女仆做饭,还有一个园丁。真是难以想象!就是这样!我跟你说,哈尔库姆小姐,要不是担心你和格莱德夫人,我当时马上就不干了!

“最后一件事非常奇怪,”米切尔森太太摇摇头接着说,“珀西瓦尔爵士说,你和格莱德夫人到海滨小城托基呆一段时间会对你们有好处。他叫我去那里找一栋合适的房子租下来,还告诉我只能花多少钱。唉,我知道钱不够。我现在真希望没去那个地方,但他是东家,我想我不能不听他的吩咐。我走了两天,昨天回来的。我告诉珀西瓦尔爵士用那么少的钱根本不可能租到房子。他对我的回复一点儿也不感兴趣,只是说伯爵夫妇已经离开布莱克沃特,去伦敦的新居了。”

米切尔森太太不安地看着我。“我想下面的事情一定会让你难过,”她说,“可怜的格莱德夫人让她丈夫骗惨了。”

“我不会感到惊讶的,”我轻声说,“请接着讲。”

“见过了珀西瓦尔爵士,我上楼去看你和格莱德夫人。你妹妹虽说还很虚弱,但已经好多了。她要起来到你的房间看你。我帮她穿好衣服。在走廊里我们碰到了珀西瓦尔爵士。

“‘如果你是去看你的姐姐,你不会找到她了,’珀西瓦尔爵士说,‘她昨天同福斯科夫妇离开了这里。她决定跟他们顺路到伦敦,然后去利默里奇。鲁贝尔太太也走了,她要在路上照看你姐姐。你要是不信我的话,可以到她的房间看看。’

“听到这些,我大吃一惊。格莱德夫人的脸变得煞白。她几乎在走廊里跑起来,一把推开你的房门,里面空无一人。

“然后她冲着珀西瓦尔爵士叫起来:‘玛丽安病得那么厉害,根本不能旅行。即使要去的话,她也不会不跟我道别就走。为什么她要一个人去利默里奇,把我留在布莱克沃特?’

“‘因为你叔叔要先跟你姐姐见面,再见你,’珀西瓦尔爵士说,‘难道你忘了在你姐姐刚病的时候,他写来的信了吗?’

“整个谈话中,哈尔库姆小姐,我觉得珀西瓦尔爵士显得很怪——又烦躁,又紧张,跟平时的他一点儿也不一样。说完,他就转身走开了。格莱德夫人害怕得直哆嗦,她看着我,眼睛里充满了恐惧。‘我姐姐出事了。我必须去找她,我必须亲眼看到她平安无事。米切尔森太太,请和我一起去找珀西瓦尔爵士。请陪我去!’她紧紧地抓着我的胳膊,我只好跟她一起下楼。

“珀西瓦尔爵士在餐厅喝酒,我们在的那一会儿,他就至少喝了四杯,哈尔库姆小姐。我觉得格莱德夫人很勇敢。她说:‘如果姐姐可以旅行,那我也可以。请允许我乘下午的火车去追她。’

“珀西瓦尔爵士对她非常无理、粗暴。‘你可以明天去,’他说,‘我会给福斯科写信。他会到车站接你,你晚上就住他那里。’

“格莱德夫人扶着我胳膊的手开始抖得很厉害。‘我不想住在伯爵家。’她说。

“珀西瓦尔爵士发怒了。‘为什么?’他大声嚷道,‘在你姑妈家过夜有什么不好?你姐姐昨天途中就是在那里过夜的,你也一样。这也是你叔叔费尔利先生的要求。给——这是他的信,我忘了给你了。’

“可怜的格莱德夫人哆嗦得很厉害,她把信交给我,让我念给她听。信很短,我还一字不差地记着:亲爱的劳拉,请在方便的时候回来。途中在姑妈家过夜。听说玛丽安病了,我非常难过。爱你的叔叔,弗雷德里克·费尔利。

“格莱德夫人没有再继续争下去,我们两人回到楼上。我觉得这样做很明智,哈尔库姆小姐,我不明白格莱德夫人为什么那么害怕福斯科伯爵。她在房间里走来走去,轻声自言自语:‘可怜的玛丽安——落到那个可怕的人手里!我一定要找到她,哪怕是到福斯科伯爵家里也要找到她。’

“第二天,我帮格莱德夫人准备好一切,陪她来到车站。‘如果玛丽安已经回利默里奇了,我就不住在伯爵家,’她告诉我,‘我会去找维西夫人,我原来的家庭教师。”火车开的时候,透过车窗我看到她苍白、恐慌的脸。我很为她难过。

“然后我回到这儿,竟然看到鲁贝尔太太在花园散步,哈尔库姆小姐,你知道我有多么惊讶!‘怎么在这儿?’我问,‘你不是和福斯科伯爵一家还有哈尔库姆小姐去伦敦了嘛!’后来事情慢慢都清楚了。你还在庄园。趁我去托基的时候,他们把你搬到了庄园里一个没人住的房间藏起来了。他们搬动你的时候,你肯定在昏睡。也许他们给你吃了药——我不清楚。这时,珀西瓦尔爵士过来给了我如下的解释。他说这一切都是为了他妻子好,她需要换个环境,假如她知道你还在庄园,是不会去利默里奇的。他说话时怒气冲冲的,我没敢说什么。

“你看,哈尔库姆小姐,这就是可怜的格莱德夫人受骗的经过。多么恶毒、多么不近人情。我本来要马上辞职的,但是珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我,鲁贝尔太太要走了,要是我也走的话,就没人照顾你了。这不,我就又留了下来。珀西瓦尔爵士是昨晚离开的,我刚才告诉过你。听园丁说,他跟疯了似的。他吩咐准备马车,然后仿佛落荒而逃的囚犯般驾车走了,嘴里还说什么这个家像个监狱,他再也不想回来了。我真的希望,哈尔库姆小姐,我再也不会见到那个人了。”

可怜的劳拉——她肯定受了很多罪!我现在一点儿办法也没有,也无法去追她,我现在虚弱得站都站不起来。我真的希望劳拉能够发现这个骗局,尽快地给我写信,告诉我她平安无事。

*  *  *

几天后来了一封信,但不是给我的,也不是劳拉写来的,而是福斯科夫人写给米切尔森太太的。

米切尔森太太拿着那封信走进我的房间,后面跟着道森先生,他同意继续为我看病,因为伯爵已经走了。我看到他们两人的神色,从床上坐起来,心里很害怕。

“出了什么事?”我急切地问,“你们有可怕的消息要告诉我。我从你们的脸上能看出来。”

米切尔森太太在我的床边坐下,握住我的手。“你那可怜的、亲爱的妹妹,格莱德夫人……”她说。

我的周围变得一团漆黑,就像夜色降临一样,下面的话似乎是从很遥远的地方传来的。

“……她到伦敦的姑妈家以后就病倒了,第二天就死了,死得非常突然。她将被安葬在利默里奇,她母亲的墓地。”

*  *  *

我又病倒了,好心的米切尔森太太在道森先生的帮助下精心地照顾我。三个多星期的时间里,我都无法出门旅行。但我终于恢复了体力,离开了那个令人憎恨的庄园,回到利默里奇。米切尔森太太和我一同来到伦敦,我去见了克尔先生,向他讲述了我心中对妹妹死因的怀疑。他对这件事很关心,答应为我调查。

我到利默里奇几天后,克尔先生的信也寄到了那里。他从几个证人那里获得了证词,他相信没有任何可疑的事发生。他把证词的副本寄给了我。下面是福斯科的厨师赫斯特·平霍恩太太的笔录:


我是最近受雇于福斯科伯爵夫妇的,他们住在圣约翰伍德,弗雷斯特街5号。快7月底的一天,伯爵夫人的侄女,格莱德夫人来到伯爵家。她很快就病了。我看见她躺在沙发上,脸色苍白。我跑去叫医生,找来了古德里克先生。他给她做了检查,说她得了严重的心脏病。当天夜里,她病情加重。大约第二天早上5点,她失去了知觉。医生进来,用手摸了摸她的胸口,说她已经死了。医生说,因为伯爵是外国人,所以他得亲自到地区办公室报告人口死亡。福斯科伯爵夫妇对格莱德夫人的死非常伤心。格莱德夫人的丈夫在国外,因此他们安排了葬礼的有关事宜,葬礼安排在坎伯兰郡举行。


由于长时间生病,我现在还非常虚弱,此时绝望几乎将我击垮。我找不到什么朋友可以倾诉,茫然不知下面该如何是好。每天我都去教堂墓地,去给劳拉的墓献花,一遍又一遍地读着那些令我心碎的文字。


爱妻劳拉·格莱德之墓

生于1829年3月27日

卒于1850年7月25日

汉普郡布莱克沃特庄园

珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士立

需要签字的文件

PART TWO
THE STORY TOLD BY MARIAN HALCOMBE
第二部分 玛丽安·哈尔库姆的讲述

4
Arrangements for a marriage

It was a sad day when Walter Hartright left us. Laura stayed in her room all day, and I felt sad and depressed. Poor Mr Gilmore must have had a dull time, and the next morning, when Laura reappeared looking pale and ill, I thought he seemed rather anxious about her. I was anxious too. Laura is such a sensitive and loving person that it was no surprise to me to find that she had grown fond of Walter. Indeed, I have grown fond of him myself. But I honestly believe that time will cure Laura of these feelings.

Two days after Walter left, Sir Percival Glyde arrived. He is forty-five years old but seems younger. He is handsome, and only a little bald, has perfect manners, and is pleasant, agreeable, and respectful. I really must try to like him.

In the afternoon, while Laura was out of the room, Sir Percival referred to Anne Catherick's letter.

'I read Mr Gilmore's letter to my lawyer,' he said, 'and I want to give you a full explanation. Mrs Catherick, you see, worked for me and my family for many years. Her marriage was unfortunate, in that her husband deserted her, and her only child, a girl, became mentally ill and needed to be put in an asylum. So, in recognition of Mrs Catherick's services, I agreed to pay the expenses of a private asylum for the girl. Unfortunately, the girl discovered this and consequently developed a hatred for me. She recently escaped from the asylum and I'm sure she wrote this letter because of her hatred for me. It's all very sad.'

Mr Gilmore found this explanation perfectly satisfactory, and said so. He then looked at me for agreement, but I was struggling with a sense of unease that I could not explain, and hesitated before answering. Sir Percival noticed this at once.

'May I beg you, Miss Halcombe,' he said politely, 'to write to Mrs Catherick to ask if these facts are true?'

I did not want to agree to this, but how could I refuse, without making the situation even more embarrassing than it already was? So I went to the desk, wrote a note, and gave it to him. Without looking at it, he put it in an envelope and wrote the address.

'Now that is done,' he said, 'may I ask if Anne Catherick spoke to Miss Fairlie, or to you?'

'No. She spoke to nobody except Mr Hartright,' I replied.

'Ah, yes, the drawing teacher,' he said thoughtfully. 'And did you discover where Anne Catherick was staying?'

I described the farm to him.

'It is my duty to try to find her,' he continued. 'Tomorrow I will go to this farm and make enquiries.' Soon afterwards he left to go up to his room.

*  *  *

That evening and the next day Sir Percival took every opportunity to bring Laura into the conversation, but she hardly took any notice. He went to the farm to make his enquiries about Anne Catherick, but learnt nothing. Then on Wednesday a letter came from Mrs Catherick — a short, business-like letter, thanking me for my note and saying that everything Sir Percival had told me was completely correct.

Why did I still have doubts? This, surely, was enough proof for anyone, but how I wished that Walter Hartright had been there to give his opinion! At Sir Percival's request I now had to give Laura his explanation of Anne Catherick's letter. She listened quietly and showed no emotion, but I noticed that on the table near her hand was the little book of Hartright's drawings. I also had to tell her that the reason for Sir Percival's visit was to fix the day of their marriage.

'I'm afraid he will ask you to decide quite soon, Laura.'

'Oh no, Marian! I can't do that!' she said. 'Please ask him, beg him, to allow me more time. I promise to give him a final answer before the end of the year, but not yet, please, not yet.'

Sir Percival agreed to this request, and when Mr Gilmore heard about it, he arranged to have a private talk with Laura.

'I have to return to London tomorrow,' he said to me, 'and I need to discuss the financial side of this marriage with Miss Fairlie before I go. As you know, she will inherit a great deal of money and property when she becomes twenty-one next March, and I must include all this in the marriage agreement in a way that reflects Miss Fairlie's own wishes, and is also acceptable to Sir Percival.'

He had the meeting with Laura the next morning, and in the afternoon he left for London, looking rather sad and thoughtful. Wondering what had been said, I hurried up to Laura's room.

'Oh, Marian, come in,' she said. 'I need to talk to you.'

'What is it, Laura? Is it about the marriage agreement?'

'No. I couldn't even bear to discuss that with Mr Gilmore. I'm ashamed to say that all I could do was cry. He was very kind and good, Marian, and he said that he would look after everything for me. No, what I wanted to tell you was this. I cannot bear the situation any longer. I must end it.'

Her eyes were bright and she spoke with great energy. I began to feel alarmed. 'What do you wish to do, Laura darling? Do you want to be released from your promise to marry Sir Percival?'

'No,' she said simply. 'I cannot break my promise to my father. But I want to tell the truth, and I will confess to Sir Percival that I love someone else.'

'Laura! He has no right to know that!' I said in amazement.

'I cannot deceive him,' she said. 'I have thought it over carefully. After I have told him, let him do as he wishes.'

I looked into her innocent, loving eyes and could say nothing. I just put my arms around her, trying not to cry myself.

'May I speak to him tomorrow, in your presence, Marian?'

I held her tight and agreed — though I was not sure I was doing the right thing. Indeed, I was not sure of anything. I could not understand how I had failed to see how deeply she loved Walter Hartright. For the first time in my life I had made a mistake about her. Now I realized that she would love him all her life.

*  *  *

The first thing that happened the next morning did nothing to make me feel more cheerful. A letter arrived for me from poor Walter Hartright. He had decided to leave England and asked me if I could help him find employment abroad. I was then alarmed to read that since his return to London he had neither seen nor heard anything of Anne Catherick, but suspected he had been watched and followed by strange men. I was worried about his state of mind, so I immediately wrote to some friends in London to ask if they could help him find a suitable job in another country. Laura, of course, knew nothing about these letters.

Sir Percival did not join us for breakfast, but sent a message, saying he would meet us at eleven o'clock, as arranged. Laura seemed calm and unusually self-controlled. I had never seen her like this. It was almost as if love had created a new force in her character.

At exactly eleven Sir Percival knocked and entered, with anxiety and worry in every line of his face. This meeting would decide his future life, and he obviously knew it.

'You may wonder, Sir Percival,' said Laura calmly, 'if I am going to ask to be released from my promise to marry you. I am not going to ask this. I respect my father's wishes too much.'

His face relaxed a little, but I saw one of his feet nervously beating the carpet.

'No, if we are going to withdraw from our planned marriage, it will be because of your wish, Sir Percival, not mine.'

'Mine?' he said in great surprise. 'What reason could I have for withdrawing?'

'A reason that is very hard to tell you,' she answered. 'There is a change in me.'

His face went so pale that even his lips lost their colour. He turned his head to one side.

'What change?' he asked, trying to hide his nervousness.

'When the promise was made two years ago,' she said, 'my love did not belong to anyone. Will you forgive me, Sir Percival, if I tell you that it now belongs to another person?'

Her tears started to fall, and Sir Percival hid his face behind his hand, so that it was impossible to know what he was thinking. He made no answer, and my temper got the better of me.

'Sir Percival!' I said sharply. 'Have you nothing to say? You have already heard more than you have a right to hear.'

'But I didn't ask for that right,' he said, avoiding my question.

'I wish you to understand,' Laura continued, 'that I will never see this person again, and that if you leave me, you only allow me to remain a single woman for the rest of my life. All I ask is that you forgive me and keep my secret.'

'I will do both those things,' he said. Then he looked at Laura, as if he was waiting to hear more.

'I think I have said enough to give you reason to withdraw from our marriage,' she added quietly.

'No. You have said enough to make it the dearest wish of my life to marry you,' he said, getting up and advancing towards her.

Laura gave a cry of surprise, but I had more than half expected this. Every word she had spoken had shown her honesty and her innocence, but these fine qualities had destroyed her own hopes of a release. Sir Percival understood very well the priceless value of a pure and true woman. Why would he give her up now?

'I will do everything I can to earn your love,' he said, 'and perhaps in time I will win it.'

'Never!' she answered, looking more beautiful than ever. 'I will be your true and loyal wife, but never your loving wife.'

'That is enough for me. I accept your loyalty and your truth,' he said, then raised her hand to his lips and silently left the room.

Laura sat without moving. I put my arm around her. At last she said,' I must resign myself, Marian. If you write to Walter, don't tell him how unhappy I am. And if I die first, please say to him, say what I could never say myself — say I loved him!'

Then she threw herself on the sofa and cried as if her heart was breaking, until at last she fell asleep.

*  *  *

In the days that followed it seemed that nothing could prevent this miserable marriage from taking place. I tried to make Laura change her mind, but she was determined to keep her promise, and to do her duty. Mr Fairlie was, of course, very happy that the 'family worry' was now at an end and suggested that the sooner his niece got married the better. This made me very angry, but when I told Laura, I was surprised by her calm reply.

'My uncle is right. I have caused trouble and anxiety to everyone. Let Sir Percival decide on the day for our marriage.'

Sir Percival was delighted by this news, and he then left to prepare for the bride's reception at his house in Hampshire.

I thought that a change would do Laura good, so I arranged for us both to go and stay with some friends in Yorkshire. She passively agreed with my idea. I also wrote to Mr Gilmore, telling him this marriage would now take place.

The next day I received a letter from Walter Hartright, saying that my friends had got him a job on an expedition to Central America. He was going to be the artist for the expedition. He was leaving on 21st November and would be away for six months. I could only hope that this was for the best.

Laura and I then departed for Yorkshire but after only nine days there we received a letter from Mr Fairlie, calling us back to Limmeridge immediately. What could this mean, I wondered?

I found out as soon as we arrived. Mr Fairlie and Sir Percival had agreed on 22nd December for the wedding, provided that Laura also agreed. Would I please persuade her, said Mr Fairlie. His nerves were much too bad to talk to her himself.

I also found our old friend Mr Gilmore, who had come to talk to Mr Fairlie about the marriage agreement. He was leaving that day, and was anxious to speak to me alone before he left.

'I am not at all happy about the financial arrangements in the agreement, Miss Halcombe,' he said, 'but there is nothing I can do about it. I know how fond you are of your sister and I think you ought to know why I am concerned.

'As you will know,' he went on, 'there are three parts to Miss Fairlie's inheritance. Firstly, on Mr Fairlie's death, she will inherit the Limmeridge property and land, and the income from it. If she dies childless, this property will go to a cousin, but the income from it will go to her husband during his lifetime. If she has a son, everything — property and income — will go to the son. No problems there.

'Secondly, when Miss Fairlie reaches the age of twenty-one next March, she will receive the income from £10,000. This £10,000 will go to her aunt Eleanor, if Miss Fairlie dies before her aunt — which is not very likely. The reason Miss Fairlie's father did not leave the £10,000 to his sister Eleanor on his death was that he disapproved strongly of her marriage to a foreigner, even though the man was an Italian nobleman, Count Fosco.'

'Yes, Laura has told me about that,' I said.

'Well,' Mr Gilmore went on, 'there are no problems there either. But the third part of Miss Fairlie's inheritance is more difficult. Next March she will also inherit £20,000, which will be her own money completely. If she dies before her husband, the income from the £20,000 will go to Sir Percival for his lifetime, and the capital will go to their children. If there are no children to inherit the capital, Miss Fairlie can choose relations and friends to inherit the money when she dies. That's what I proposed, but Sir Percival's lawyer did not accept it. He insists that if Sir Percival survives his wife and there are no children, Sir Percival should receive the capital. In that case, nothing will go to any other member of the family, including you, Miss Halcombe.'

Mr Gilmore sighed deeply. 'I protested strongly. I tried every argument I could, but nothing would change the lawyer's mind. I've discovered, you see, that Sir Percival is always in debt and always in need of cash. My last effort has been to come here, to try and persuade Mr Fairlie to oppose this demand from Sir Percival's lawyer. I am sorry to say I have not succeeded. Mr Fairlie wishes to avoid all responsibility for his niece's marriage arrangements. He says that his niece will not die before Sir Percival anyway, so what is there to worry about?'

Mr Gilmore stood up to go and picked up his hat. 'I shall complete the agreement and send it in. I have no choice. If I don't do it, Mr Fairlie will find another lawyer who will. But I tell you, Miss Halcombe, no daughter of mine should be married to any man alive under such an agreement as I am forced to make for Miss Fairlie.'

With that, he shook my hand, and without another word he went away to catch his train back to London.

After he had gone, I tried to be sensible. Mr Fairlie was Laura's guardian and if he chose to accept this agreement, there was nothing I could do about it. It was just one more worry about this dreadful marriage. A more immediate worry was the date of the wedding. When I told Laura, she turned pale and trembled.

'Not so soon!' she cried. 'Oh, Marian, not so soon!'

'Well, let me speak to Mr Fairlie, then,' I said, ready to fight for her. 'I will try to change it.'

'No,' she said faintly. 'Too late, Marian, too late! It will only make more trouble. Please tell my uncle I agree.'

I think I would have cried if I had not been so angry. I rushed into Mr Fairlie's room and shouted loudly, 'Laura agrees to the twenty-second' — and rushed out again, banging the door noisily. I hoped I had destroyed his nerves for the whole day.

*  *  *

After this the wedding preparations began. The dressmakers came and went all the time; there was packing, and planning, and all kinds of arrangements to make. We heard every day from Sir Percival. After the wedding he proposed to take Laura to Italy for six months. They would meet a number of Sir Percival's friends there, including his best and oldest friend, Count Fosco, whose wife, of course, was Laura's Aunt Eleanor. At least this marriage would bring Laura and her aunt together again, I thought. The Count himself sounded a most interesting person, and I rather hoped that I would meet him one day.

All too quickly the days passed. Sir Percival arrived, looking a little tired and anxious but talking and laughing like the happiest of men. The evening after he arrived he went off to the village to ask if anyone had any news of Anne Catherick. No one had heard anything, but I had to admit that it was good of him to continue to try to help her. I have decided to try and think better of him. After all, what reason do I have to distrust him? I am sure that I could like him if I really tried.

It is getting quite easy to like him. Today I spoke to him about the dearest wish of both Laura and myself — that I should be able to live with Laura after her marriage, just as I had always lived with her before. He agreed instantly and seemed delighted with the plan. I would be the ideal, the perfect companion for his wife, he said. Yes, I am beginning to like Sir Percival very much.

*  *  *

I hate Sir Percival! He has no sensitivity, no kindness, no good feeling. Last night he whispered something in Laura's ear — she has refused to tell me what it was — and her face turned white with misery. He took no notice at all, and all my suspicions of him have returned. Is he now showing his true character? He seems more restless and nervous than before, and is often sharp and bad-tempered. I have this strange idea that something might happen to prevent the marriage — and that he is afraid of that. A foolish thought. I must forget it.

As the day of our separation grows nearer, Laura cannot bear to have me out of her sight. I must be brave and cheerful, for her sake, but my fear will not go away. Will this marriage be the one terrible mistake of her life, and the one hopeless sorrow of mine?

*  *  *

It is the twenty-second. No more time for tears. Laura is dressed, and we leave for the church. By eleven o'clock they are married. By three o'clock they are gone. I am blind with crying and can write no more...


cure v. restore to health 治愈

respectful adj. showing deference 有礼貌的

desert v. abandon 抛弃

private adj. independent; not connected with government, public service, etc. 私立的

hesitate v. show or feel uncertainty or indecision 犹豫

embarrassing adj. causing to feel awkward or self-conscious or ashamed 令人难堪的;使人尴尬的

thoughtfully adv. engaged in or given to meditation 沉思地;若有所思地

business-like adj. serious, formal 正式的

emotion n. a strong mental or instinctive feeling 情感

inherit v. receive by legal descent or succession 继承

presence n. the state or condition of being present 在场

release v. set free; liberate 解除

withdraw v. discontinue, cancel 撤出;退出

advance v. move forward 向前走

destroy v. spoil utterly 破坏

in time eventually 最终

loyal adj. true, faithful 忠贞的

resign v. give up 退让

passively adv. offering no objection 被动地;不反对

expedition n. a journey for a particular purpose 为特别目的的旅行

provided conj. on the condition that 只要

likely adj. probable 可能的

disapprove v. have or express an unfavourable opinion 反对

capital n. money used to produce more wealth 资金

protest v. make a protest against an action or proposal 抗议;反对

dreadful adj. terrible, inspiring fear or awe 可怕的

bang v. shut noisily 用力关上

distrust v. have no trust or confidence in, doubt 不相信;怀疑

instantly adv. occurring immediately 立即;即刻

ideal adj. perfect, excellent 最好的

4.准备婚事

沃尔特·哈特里特先生离开的那天,我们都很难过。劳拉一整天呆在自己的房间里不出来,我的心情也很沉闷。可怜的吉尔摩先生肯定觉得那天很无聊。第二天早晨,劳拉从房间出来的时候,面容憔悴,像是病了一场。我觉得吉尔摩先生似乎很为她担心,我也为她担心。劳拉是个敏感而深情的人,她喜欢上沃尔特我一点儿也不觉得奇怪。其实,我自己也喜欢他。但是,我真心希望时间能够治愈劳拉的情伤。

沃尔特离开两天以后,珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士来了。他45岁,但看上去比实际年龄要年轻一些。他很英俊,稍有些秃顶,举止优雅,温和有礼。我尽力让自己对这个人产生好感。

下午,劳拉不在房里的时候,珀西瓦尔爵士提到了安妮·凯瑟里克的那封信。

“我看了吉尔摩先生给我律师的信,”他说,“我想跟你们好好地解释一下。凯瑟里克太太为我和我的家庭工作了许多年,她的婚姻很不幸,她丈夫抛弃了她,她的独生女精神有毛病,需要送进精神病院。所以,为了感谢凯瑟里克太太多年来的服务,我答应承担送她女儿去一家私立精神病院的所有费用。但不幸的是,女孩知道以后,就开始对我怀恨在心。她不久前从精神病院逃走了,我敢肯定是她出于对我的仇恨写了这封信。这太让人伤心了。”

吉尔摩先生认为这个解释非常令人满意,他说完看了看我,希望我也同意他的说法。可是,我有一种说不清的不安的感觉,犹豫了一会儿,没有说话。珀西瓦尔爵士立刻注意到了我的反应。

“哈尔库姆小姐,能否请你给凯瑟里克太太写封信,问问她这些是不是真的呢?”他非常客气地说。

我不想答应他的要求,但是又怎么好拒绝呢?拒绝只能把事情弄得越来越尴尬。于是,我走到桌旁,写了封短信,然后交给了珀西瓦尔。他看也没看就把信装进信封,写上了地址。

“好了,这件事就这样了,”他说,“请问安妮·凯瑟里克跟费尔利小姐或者你谈过吗?”

“没有。她只跟哈特里特先生谈过。”我告诉他。

“噢,是了,那位绘画教师,”他若有所思地说,“你们找到安妮·凯瑟里克的住处了吗?”

我跟他讲了农场的情况。

“找到她是我的责任,”他接着说,“明天我就去农场问问。”不一会儿,他就上楼回他的房间去了。

*  *  *

那天晚上以及第二天,珀西瓦尔爵士努力寻找一切机会同劳拉讲话,但劳拉一直心不在焉。珀西瓦尔去农场调查,结果一无所获。星期三凯瑟里克太太来信了,那是一封简短而又正式的信。信中感谢我给她写信,并且说珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我的都是事实。

为什么我还是有疑问呢?这封信对谁来讲都是充分的证据,可我还是很希望沃尔特·哈特里特先生能在这儿发表一下他的看法。应珀西瓦尔爵士的要求,我得向劳拉解释一下安妮·凯瑟里克来信的事情。她静静地听着,脸上毫无表情。我注意到她手边的桌上放着哈特里特先生的画册。我还得告诉她,珀西瓦尔爵士此行的目的是要确定他们结婚的日期。

“恐怕他会让你马上做决定,劳拉。”

“噢,不行,玛丽安!我不能!”她说,“请帮我问问他,恳求他再给我些时间。我保证年底以前给他最终的答复,但是现在不行,现在不行。”

珀西瓦尔爵士答应了这个要求。吉尔摩先生得知事情的经过后,准备同劳拉单独谈谈。

“我明天必须回伦敦去,”吉尔摩先生对我说,“走之前,我需要和费尔利小姐谈一下这桩婚事的财务问题。你知道,明年3月她21岁的时候,她会继承一大笔财产,我必须把这些都写进结婚协议中去,让协议既能反映费尔利小姐的愿望,也能令珀西瓦尔爵士接受。”

转天上午,吉尔摩先生和劳拉谈了话。下午,他动身去伦敦时,看上去忧心忡忡。不知道他们都说了些什么,我连忙赶去劳拉的房间。

“噢,玛丽安,快进来,我有话跟你说。”劳拉说。

“出了什么事,劳拉?是结婚协议的事吗?”

“不是。我简直没办法跟吉尔摩先生谈这件事。我真不好意思说出口,刚才我只是一个劲儿地哭,什么也没说。吉尔摩先生非常善良,玛丽安,他告诉我,他会帮我打理一切。我现在要告诉你的是,我再也受不了这种局面了,我必须结束这种状况。”

她的眼睛很亮,语气也很坚决。我感到有些害怕,“你想要做什么,亲爱的劳拉?你要解除同珀西瓦尔爵士的婚约吗?”

“不是的,”她回答,“我不能打破对父亲的承诺。但是,我要说出真话,我要告诉珀西瓦尔爵士我爱上了别人。”

“劳拉!他无权知道这件事!”我惊讶地说。

“我不能欺骗他,”她说,“我已经想好了。我把真相告诉他,让他决定该怎么办。”

我看着她纯洁、深情的眼神,一句话也说不出来。我伸手抱住她,尽量控制自己不哭出来。

“明天我就跟他说,你跟我去,好吗,玛丽安?”

我紧紧地抱着她,答应了她的请求——我也不清楚自己做的是对是错。我对什么都没了把握。我不明白为什么我没发觉她爱沃尔特·哈特里特爱得那么深。我第一次对她做出了错误的判断。现在我知道,她会一辈子爱着他。

*  *  *

第二天早晨发生的事让我一点儿也高兴不起来,可怜的沃尔特·哈特里特来信说他决定离开英国,问我能否帮他在国外找份工作。信后面的内容使我非常担心。他回伦敦以后,既没有见到安妮·凯瑟里克,也没有打听到她的任何消息,反而觉得有陌生人在盯他的梢。我担心他情绪不稳,赶忙给几个在伦敦的朋友写信,看他们能不能帮他在国外找到一份合适的工作。当然,劳拉对信的事一无所知。

珀西瓦尔爵士没有来同我们一起吃早餐,他捎话给我们说他会按约定11点来见我们。劳拉超乎寻常的冷静、镇定。我从未见她这样过,好像爱情使她更坚强了。

11点整,珀西瓦尔爵士敲门进来。他满脸紧张和不安。这次谈话将会决定他今后的生活,他显然非常清楚这一点。

“你可能会认为我是来请求与你解除婚约的,珀西瓦尔爵士,”劳拉冷静地说,“我不是来做这样的请求的,我非常尊重父亲的意愿。”

珀西瓦尔爵士的表情放松了一些,但我看到他的一只脚在紧张地敲打着地毯。

“我不会那样做的,如果我们两人要解除婚约的话,那一定是出于你的意愿,珀西瓦尔爵士,而不会是我的。”

“我的意愿?”他吃惊地说,“我能有什么理由解除婚约呢?”

“一个很难向你启齿的理由,我这里有了些变故。”劳拉回答。

珀西瓦尔的脸色变得煞白,双唇一点儿血色都没有。他把脸转向一侧。

“什么变故?”他尽量掩饰着自己的紧张。

“两年前约定婚事的时候,我的爱不属于任何人,”劳拉接着说,“如果我告诉你,珀西瓦尔爵士,我的爱现在属于另一个人,你会原谅我吗?”

她的眼泪流了下来。珀西瓦尔爵士用手捂住了脸,让人看不出他是怎么想的。他一句话也不说,我的直脾气可受不了了。

“珀西瓦尔爵士!”我大声问道,“你不想说点儿什么吗?你已经听到了本来你无权听到的事情。”

“可我并没有要求这权利。”他回避了我的问题。

“我想告诉你,”劳拉继续说,“我再也见不到那个人了。如果你和我分手,我会终身不嫁。我只请求你原谅我,并为我保守秘密。”

“两件事我都答应。”珀西瓦尔说完,看了看劳拉,似乎等着她再说些什么。

“我想我已经讲了足够的理由让你解除婚约。”劳拉平静地说。

“不,你说了这么多,我唯一的感觉是我一生最大的愿望就是同你结婚。”说着,他起身朝劳拉走过来。

劳拉惊讶得“咦”了一声,我倒是猜到了几分他会这么说。劳拉讲的每一句话都透出她的真诚和纯洁,但是这样良好的品德却毁掉了她解脱的希望。珀西瓦尔爵士很清楚,一个纯洁、真诚的女人是无价之宝。他为什么要放弃呢?

“我会尽一切所能去赢得你的爱,也许最终我会成功的。”珀西瓦尔说。

“永远也不会的!”劳拉看上去更美了,“我会是你忠实的妻子,但永远不会爱你。”

“这就足够了。我愿意接受你的忠贞和真诚。”说罢,他拿起劳拉的手吻了吻,然后默默地走出房间。

劳拉坐在那里一动不动,我伸出手搂住她。最后她开口道:“我必须退让,玛丽安。你给沃尔特写信时,不要告诉他我不开心。假如我比他先死了,你一定对他说,说我不能亲口对他说的话——我爱他!”

说完,她扑在沙发上放声痛哭,哭得好像心都碎了一样,最后她趴在那儿睡着了。

*  *  *

接下来的日子里,好像什么也阻止不了这桩不幸的婚姻。我力图让劳拉改变主意,但她却坚持要恪守诺言,履行义务。费尔利先生自然非常高兴,因为这场“家庭烦恼”终于画上了句号。他建议他的侄女越早结婚越好。这令我很气愤,但我把这话告诉劳拉后,她的平静反应倒让我吃了一惊。

“叔叔说的对,我给大家带来了太多麻烦。让珀西瓦尔爵士决定我们的结婚日期吧。”

珀西瓦尔爵士对此非常高兴,他离开庄园回汉普郡,准备迎接新娘。

我想换一个环境肯定对劳拉有好处,于是安排我们两人到约克郡的朋友那里呆一段时间。她同意了。我还给吉尔摩先生写了信,告诉他这桩婚事可以继续了。

第二天,我收到了沃尔特·哈特里特的来信,信中说我的朋友为他找到一份工作,要到中美洲长途旅行,他做随行的画家,11月21号动身,行程6个月。我衷心希望这是最好的安排。

劳拉和我动身前往约克郡。但是,刚刚在那里住了9天,我们就收到费尔利先生的信,让我们立即返回利默里奇。这意味着什么呢,我想不出。

一回来我就明白了。费尔利先生和珀西瓦尔爵士已经把婚礼的时间定在12月22日,就等劳拉点头同意了。费尔利先生问我可不可以说服劳拉同意这个日期,他本人神经不好,无法跟她谈。

我见到了我们的老朋友吉尔摩先生,他是来同费尔利先生谈有关结婚协议的事的。他当天就要离开庄园,着急想与我单独谈谈。

“哈尔库姆小姐,我对结婚协议中的财务安排非常不满意,”他对我说,“但是我一点儿办法也没有。我知道你多么爱你的妹妹,所以我认为你应该知道我为什么担心。

“你知道,”他接着说,“费尔利小姐继承的财产包括三部分。第一,费尔利先生死后,她会继承利默里奇的财产和土地以及由此产生的收入。如果她死后没有孩子,这份财产将转到她的一个亲戚名下,但财产的收入在她丈夫在世的时候将归他所有。如果她有个儿子,所有的财产和收入都归她的儿子。这一点没有任何问题。

“第二,明年3月费尔利小姐21岁的时候,她将得到10,000英镑的收入。如果费尔利小姐在她姑妈埃莉诺之前死去,这笔钱就归她姑妈,这当然不大可能。费尔利小姐的父亲之所以死的时候没有把这10,000英镑留给他的妹妹埃莉诺,是因为他强烈反对她嫁给一个外国人,虽然那个人是位意大利贵族,福斯科伯爵。”

“是的,劳拉跟我说过这件事。”我说。

“好吧,”吉尔摩先生接着说,“这一部分也没有问题。可是第三部分就不那么简单了。明年3月,她还将继承20,000英镑,这完全是属于她个人的一笔钱。如果她先于她丈夫死去,从这20,000英镑获得的收入将属于珀西瓦尔爵士,直至他去世;而这20,000英镑本金将归他们的孩子所有。假如没有孩子继承这笔钱,费尔利小姐死的时候,可以选择亲属或朋友继承。这是我的建议。但是,珀西瓦尔爵士的律师拒不接受这一点,他坚持认为,如果珀西瓦尔爵士死在他妻子后面,同时他们又没有孩子,珀西瓦尔就应该得到这笔钱。那样的话,费尔利家族的任何其他人,包括你在内,都得不到一分钱,哈尔库姆小姐。”

吉尔摩先生长叹了一口气,“我坚决反对这样。我极力争取,但还是无法让那位律师改变主意。我发现珀西瓦尔爵士长期欠债,急需现金。我最后的努力就是来这里试图说服费尔利先生反对珀西瓦尔爵士律师的要求,非常遗憾,我没有成功。对他侄女的这桩婚事费尔利先生什么也不想管。他说他侄女不会死在珀西瓦尔爵士前面的,又有什么可担心的呢?”

吉尔摩先生站起身,拿起帽子准备离开,“我会把协议拟好,并把它寄给你们。我没别的办法,我不这样做,费尔利先生也会再找一名律师这样做的。不过,我跟你说,哈尔库姆小姐,我是不会让我女儿根据我被迫为费尔利小姐准备的这样一份协议嫁人的。”

说完,他握了握我的手,一言不发地离开这里,去赶回伦敦的火车了。

吉尔摩先生走后,我尽量保持理智。费尔利先生是劳拉的监护人,如果他愿意接受这份协议,我做什么都无济于事。这是这桩可怕婚姻的又一个令人担忧的地方。现在更紧迫的事情是结婚日期。我把结婚的日期告诉劳拉以后,她的脸色立刻变白了,身体也开始发抖。

alt

“不要这么快!”她喊道,“噢,玛丽安,不要这么快!”

“好吧,那我去和费尔利先生说,”我这样说着,已经做好了为她去抗争的准备,“我会尽力去改变这个日期。”

“算了吧,”她有气无力地说,“一切都太晚了,玛丽安,太晚了!抗争只能带来更多的麻烦。去告诉我叔叔,我同意了。”

我要不是气愤至极,肯定就会哭出声来。我冲进费尔利先生的房间,大声喊道:“劳拉同意22日结婚!”——然后冲出去,很响地甩上门。但愿我能让他的神经一整天都不得安宁。

*  *  *

这以后,婚礼的准备工作开始了。整天都有裁缝进进出出;要收拾行李,做计划,进行各种安排。我们每天都能收到珀西瓦尔爵士的来信,他提议婚礼之后带劳拉到意大利住六个月,见一些珀西瓦尔的朋友,包括他最好的老朋友福斯科伯爵。福斯科伯爵的妻子当然就是劳拉的姑妈埃莉诺。这桩婚姻起码可以让劳拉和她的姑妈重逢,我这样想着。听起来伯爵本人倒是一个非常有趣的人,我也想有朝一日能见见他。

日子很快地过去了。珀西瓦尔爵士终于来了。他看上去有些疲倦和不安,但是有说有笑的仿佛世界上最幸福的男人就是他。他来的当天晚上去了村子里,打听是否有人知道安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。虽然没人给他提供什么消息,但我必须承认他继续寻求帮助她,这是善举。我决定努力改变对他不好的看法,说到底,我有什么理由不信任他呢?我相信如果真的努力尝试,我可能会喜欢他的。

喜欢他是很容易的。今天我同他说起劳拉与我的最大愿望——在劳拉结婚之后,我和她还能像以前一样住在一起。他立刻就答应了,而且很高兴能有这样的安排。他说我将是他妻子最理想、最合适的陪伴。是啊,我开始非常喜欢珀西瓦尔爵士了。

*  *  *

我恨珀西瓦尔爵士!他不善解人意,缺乏同情心,没有好心肠。昨天晚上,他跟劳拉耳语了些什么——劳拉不愿告诉我具体内容——她的脸色变得非常难看。而他却一点儿没在意。我以前对他所有的怀疑又出现了。现在,他是不是露出了他的本来面目?他变得比以往更加焦躁不安,经常言语尖刻,发脾气。我有个奇怪的想法,是不是会有什么事阻止这桩婚姻,而又非常害怕那样的结局。这是胡思乱想,我不能当真。

我们分别的日子一天天临近了,劳拉一刻也不肯离开我。为了她,我必须勇敢些,高兴起来。但是,我的担心没有消失。这桩婚姻会成为劳拉一生的大错吗?会成为我伤心、痛苦的根源吗?

*  *  *

22日到了。时间到了,不能再哭了。劳拉梳妆打扮完毕,我们要去教堂了。11点钟,婚礼就会结束。下午3点,他们就离开这里了。我已经哭得视线模糊,无法继续写下去了……

5
A document for signature

Six long, lonely months passed, and I had little to do but think of absent friends. I received a cheerful letter from Walter Hartright after he arrived in Honduras, and just before he set off with the expedition into the forest. Since then, I have heard nothing. There was no news of Anne Catherick or Mrs Clements. Poor Mr Gilmore fell very ill and had to give up work, but his business is continued by his partner, Mr Kyrle. Mrs Vesey has moved to London to live with her sister, and Mr Fairlie, I believe, is secretly delighted to have his house free of women.

Most of all, of course, I thought about Laura. Many letters came from her, but she said very little in them. She told me she was well, but hardly mentioned her husband, and wrote not a word about Count Fosco, whom they had met in Austria, not Italy. I understood from her silence that she did not like him. All she said was that her Aunt Eleanor, Madame Fosco, was quieter and more sensible than she had used to be.

*  *  *

On 11th June I arrived at Blackwater Park, Sir Percival's family home in Hampshire. The waiting was nearly over, and how happy I was! The next day Laura and her husband would return home, together with Count Fosco and his wife, who were going to spend the summer at Blackwater.

In the morning the housekeeper, Mrs Michelson, showed me round the house. It is very old, and much of it is dusty and unused; only one part of the enormous building is comfortable enough to live in.

Later I explored the gardens and the park. The gardens are small and not well kept, and there are so many trees that the house feels shut in by them. I found a path through the trees, which after half a mile brought me to a lake. It was a damp, lonely place. The still dark waters of the lake and the long shadows from the tall trees gave it a gloomy air. Near the lake there was an old boat-house with some seats in it, so I went in and sat down for a rest.

I am not a nervous person generally but when I heard the sound of quick breathing under my seat, I jumped to my feet in alarm. In fact, it was a dog — a small black and white dog, with a bullet wound in its side. I carried the poor creature back to the house and sent for Mrs Michelson to help me.

When she came in and saw the dog lying on the floor, she cried out at once, 'Oh! That must be Mrs Catherick's dog!'

'Whose?' I asked, amazed.

'Mrs Catherick's. Do you know her? She came here to ask for news of her daughter.'

'When?'

'Yesterday. She'd heard that her daughter Anne had been seen in the neighbourhood. But no one knew anything. I suppose the dog ran away into the woods and got shot by the park-keeper.'

I tried to make my voice sound politely interested. 'I suppose you've known Mrs Catherick for some years?'

'Oh no, Miss Halcombe, I never saw her before. She lives at Welmingham, twenty-five miles away. I had heard of her, because of Sir Percival paying for her daughter to go to an asylum. But yesterday, Mrs Catherick asked me not to mention her visit to Sir Percival. That was an odd thing to say, wasn't it, Miss?'

Odd, indeed! But then we had to turn our attention to the poor dog, which, despite our efforts, died a little while later. It was a sad thing to happen on my first day at Blackwater.

*  *  *

Later that evening the travellers returned. After my first happiness at meeting Laura, I felt there was a strangeness between us and I realized she had changed. I was sure we would soon get back to normal, but she had lost her innocent openness. She was unwilling to talk about her married life, and I saw that there were no warm feelings between her husband and her. It wasn't long before she asked me about Walter — 'Have you heard from him? Is he well and happy?' — and it was clear to me that she loved him as deeply as ever.

As for Sir Percival, his manners are sharper and less pleasant. On meeting me he simply said, 'Hello, Miss Halcombe. Glad to see you again,' — and then walked past me. Little things seem to annoy him a great deal. For example, the housekeeper told him a man had called to speak to him a week ago but had left no name. Sir Percival demanded a description of the man, which poor Mrs Michelson was unable to give, and Sir Percival stormed out of the room in great anger.

Laura was certainly right about Madame Fosco. Never have I seen such a change in a woman. As Eleanor Fairlie (aged thirty-seven), she wore bright clothes, was silly and foolish, and always talked nonsense. As Madame Fosco (aged forty-three), she wears only grey or black, and sits for hours in silence, doing needlework, rolling up cigarettes for the Count, or just looking at him with the eyes of a loyal dog.

And the man who has achieved this extraordinary change, the man who has tamed this wild Englishwoman? Yes, what can I say about the Count? He looks like a man who could tame anything. If he had married me, I would have made his cigarettes, as his wife does. I would have held my tongue when he looked at me, as she holds hers.

How can I explain the power, the attraction, the force that comes from this man? There are many unlikeable or unattractive things about him. For example, he is enormously fat; he seems to have false hair; he is at least sixty years old. He is lazy, jumps at the slightest sudden sound, and has a peculiar fondness for pet animals. He has brought with him a variety of birds and a whole family of white mice, which he often kisses and calls loving names, just as a child might do.

And yet, and yet... He is fat, but moves lightly and easily, like a dancer. There is a calmness and a strength about his smooth, unlined face, and his voice is persuasive, gentle, hard to resist. His knowledge of the English language is perfect and he is a well-known expert in chemical science. He speaks in baby language to his white mice, but he talks with intelligence and charm about books in every language, and brings to his conversation experience of life in half the capitals of Europe.

But it is his eyes that I shall always remember — his cold, clear, beautiful grey eyes, eyes which held such a frightening power that I shiver even now to think of it.

I could discover very little about his past from Sir Percival. I only learnt that he had not been to Italy for years; I wondered if this was for political reasons. It seemed he had saved Sir Percival from great danger in Rome once and they had been the closest of friends ever since. It was quite clear that Sir Percival was always anxious to please him and would never go against his wishes.

I wonder whether I am afraid of him too. I certainly never saw a man I would be more sorry to have as an enemy.

*  *  *

At lunchtime, a few days after they all returned, a man called Mr Merriman arrived, asking to see Sir Percival urgently. Sir Percival had clearly not expected the visit and looked both alarmed and angry as he left the table.

Neither Laura nor I had any idea who Mr Merriman was, but the Count told us he was Sir Percival's lawyer. I wondered what had happened, as a lawyer does not usually travel from London to Hampshire unless sent for. Mr Merriman must be the bringer of important news — either good or bad.

Count Fosco obviously read my thoughts and said softly to me, 'Yes, Miss Halcombe, something has happened.'

Later in the day I was coming from my room when I saw Sir Percival and his lawyer crossing the hall downstairs. They spoke quietly, but clearly enough for their words to reach my ears.

'Yes, Sir Percival,' I heard the lawyer say, 'it all depends on Lady Glyde.'

I immediately stopped when I heard Laura's name and, although I knew it was wrong, continued to listen.

'You understand, Sir Percival, Lady Glyde must sign her name in the presence of two witnesses. If this is done in a week's time, everything will be all right. If not, I may be able to get them to accept a document promising payment in three months. But how that money is to be obtained by then... '

They went into the library and I heard no more, but it seemed that Sir Percival had a serious debt and that the solution to it depended on Laura. I immediately went to tell Laura what I had heard. She did not seem surprised.

'I was afraid of something like this,' she said, 'when I heard about that strange gentleman who called, without leaving his name. He had probably come to ask for his money. But don't worry, Marian. I won't sign anything that I might later regret.'

In the evening Sir Percival was unusually polite and pleasant to all of us. What did this mean? I thought I could guess — I was afraid Laura could guess — and I was sure Count Fosco knew. I saw Sir Percival looking at him for approval more than once during the evening. The Count was certainly aware of Sir Percival's financial problems.

The next morning Sir Percival asked Count Fosco, Laura, and myself if we would go to the library for a minute after lunch for a small business matter. Before lunch, however, we all went for a walk to the lake, stopping at the boat-house for a rest.

'Some people call the lake pretty,' said Sir Percival, pointing to the view. 'I call it ugly. It looks just the place for a murder, doesn't it? What do you think, Fosco?'

'My dear Percival,' the Count protested, 'the water is too shallow to hide a body. Only a fool would murder someone here. A wise man would choose somewhere else.'

'Wise men do not murder,' said Laura, looking at him with dislike. 'I am sure you cannot give me an example of a wise man who has been a criminal.'

'My dear lady,' said the Count, 'it is impossible to give an example, because a wise man's crime is never found out.'

As he spoke, he was playing with his white mice in their little cage, and suddenly noticed that one of them was missing. A few seconds later he found the little animal under a seat, but also found something which seemed to shock him.

'Percival,' he said, 'come here. Look at this in the sand. Blood!'

Everyone seemed alarmed, so I had to explain about the wounded dog I had found.

'Whose dog was it?' asked Sir Percival.

'The housekeeper said it was Mrs Catherick's dog,' I replied, remembering too late that the visit was meant to be kept secret.

'What the devil was Mrs Catherick doing here?'

This question came with such rudeness and anger that I turned away. Count Fosco laid his hand on Sir Percival's arm.

'My dear Percival! Gently, gently!'

To my great surprise, Sir Percival apologized to me, and Count Fosco then said, 'Why not question the housekeeper, Percival, since she seems to know all about it?'

Sir Percival took the point, and immediately left us to return to the house.

The Count seemed fascinated by Mrs Catherick and wanted to know all about her visit. I tried to say as little as possible, but Laura asked questions too, and in the end the Count knew as much as we did about Mrs Catherick and her daughter Anne. I was quite sure, from his surprise at the story, that the Count had known nothing of Anne Catherick, and uneasily I wondered why Sir Percival had not told his closest friend.

When we went back to the house, Sir Percival came to greet us. 'I am sorry to say I have to leave you. I have to drive a long way and won't be back until tomorrow. First, though, I would like to finish that little business matter. Will you come into the library? It won't take a minute.'

In the library he got a document out of a cupboard and put it on the table. It was folded in such a way that all the writing was hidden and only the places to sign were visible.

Handing a pen to Laura, he said, 'Sign there. You and Fosco are to sign afterwards, Miss Halcombe.'

'What do you want me to sign?' Laura asked quietly.

'I have no time to explain. I have to leave. It's just business,' he said angrily. 'Women don't understand business. Just sign it.'

'But surely I ought to know what I am signing.'

'I see. So you're saying you don't trust me! Is that it? What kind of a wife is that?'

To help Laura, I said, 'I am afraid I cannot be a witness if she doesn't understand what she is signing.'

Sir Percival turned to me furiously. 'How dare you! You're a guest in my house and you take my wife's side against me!'

'Control your unfortunate temper, Percival,' said the Count, and I heard him whisper to him, 'You idiot!'

But Laura had put the pen down and moved to my side.

'Lady Glyde is right,' the Count then said. 'Let the signature wait until tomorrow.'

Sir Percival swore at him, but moved away from the table.

'All right, then,' he said, 'until tomorrow. Anyway, I have to go. But you will sign tomorrow or —' He gave his wife a cold, hard stare, then went out.

As Laura and I moved to the door, the Count approached us. 'You have just seen Sir Percival at his worst,' he said. 'As his old friend, I apologize for him and promise he won't behave like that tomorrow.'

I had begun to realize that I could not hope to remain at Blackwater Park now without the influence and support of the Count, so I answered by thanking him warmly. Then I led Laura out and took her up to my room for a rest.

While we were there, she told me how cruel Sir Percival had been to her since their marriage and how unhappy she was. I tried to calm her and to find a solution to the problem of the signature. Suddenly I had the idea of writing to Mr Gilmore's partner, Mr Kyrle, and asking for his advice. In my letter I also asked him to get a messenger to bring the reply by one o'clock the next day. I then put the letter in the post-bag in the hall. Just at that moment Madame Fosco appeared and asked to speak to me in the garden. She spoke to me for a full half-hour about how much sympathy she had for me. I found this very odd indeed since she had shown very little interest in me before.

When I finally returned, I saw the Count also putting a letter in the post-bag. For some reason I decided to check my letter was properly closed, so I got it out of the bag. This was lucky, as I found the envelope had come open. How strange, I thought. Perhaps there had been something wrong with it...

Or perhaps...

No! There could be no other explanation.


absent adj. not present 不在场的

free of not containing or subject to 没有

enormous adj. very large, huge 非常大的

gloomy adj. dismal, depressing 阴暗的;阴郁的

creature n. an animal 动物

neighbourhood n. the surrounding area 附近

odd adj. extraordinary, strange 反常的;奇怪的

storm v. move violently or angrily 气愤地走

tame v. make tame 驯服

hold one's tongue be silent 不说话

enormously adv. very, quite 非常

frightening adj. terrifying 使人害怕的

go against be contrary to 反对

urgently adv. requiring immediate action or attention 急迫地

obtain v. acquire, secure 得到;获得

library n. a room containing a collection of books 书房

aware adj. conscious or having knowledge 清楚;知道

murder n. killing unlawfully with a premeditated motive 谋杀

rudeness n. being impolite or offensive 无礼

fascinated adj. showing great interest in 非常感兴趣的

fold v. bend or close something over upon itself 折叠

furiously adv. extremely angry 极度气愤地

swear v. use indecent language 骂人

stare n. a staring gaze

messenger n. a person who carries a message 信使

properly adv. fittingly; suitably 适当地

5.需要签字的文件

漫长、孤寂的六个月过去了。除去思念不在身边的朋友们,我无所事事。我收到一封沃尔特·哈特里特的来信,是他到达洪都拉斯,进入林地之前写的。从那以后,他就没有了任何消息。安妮·凯瑟里克和克莱门茨太太没有任何音信。可怜的吉尔摩先生病得很厉害,不得不停止工作。他的工作由他的合伙人克尔先生代理。维西太太搬到了伦敦,和她妹妹住在一起。我想费尔利先生一定暗自高兴这庄园里没有了女人。

我最思念的当然是劳拉。她来过许多信,但是内容都非常简单。她说她挺好的,却只字不提她丈夫,也不提福斯科伯爵。他们是在奥地利相见的,而不是在意大利。从她的沉默我看得出,她不喜欢他。她只是说到埃莉诺姑妈,就是福斯科夫人,比以前话少了,也更理智了。

*  *  *

6月11日,我来到布莱克沃特庄园,珀西瓦尔爵士在汉普郡的家。等待终于快结束了,我异常兴奋。第二天,劳拉同她丈夫就要回来了,一同来的还有福斯科伯爵夫妇,他们要在布莱克沃特度过这个夏天。

早上,管家米切尔森太太领我参观了房子。这是一幢很古老的房子,多处是厚厚的尘土,没有人住。偌大的房子只有一部分还比较舒适,可以住人。

之后,我去看了看花园和园林。花园很小,维护得也不好。这周围树木非常多,遮蔽了房子。我发现了树林中的一条小路,沿着小路走了半英里之后是一个湖。这是一个潮湿僻静的地方。平静漆黑的湖水和长长的树影使这里笼上了一层阴暗、凄凉的色彩。湖的附近有一个破旧的船屋,里面有几个座位,我走进去坐下休息。

我并不是一个胆小的人,但是听见座位底下传来急促的喘息声,我还是惊得一下子跳了起来。其实,那是只狗——一只黑白相间的小狗,身子的一侧有子弹的伤痕。我把可怜的小东西带回房子里,叫来米切尔森太太帮我。

米切尔森太太进来看见地上躺着的小狗,马上大声说:“噢,这一定是凯瑟里克太太的狗!”

“是谁的狗?”我非常吃惊地问。

“凯瑟里克太太的。你认识她吗?她来这里打听过她女儿的消息。”

“什么时候?”

“就是昨天。她听说有人在附近看见过她女儿安妮。可是没人知道这件事。我想这条狗可能跑到树林里去,让看林人给打了。”

我尽量让自己听起来不是过分好奇,“你是不是认识凯瑟里克太太好多年了?”

“噢,也不是,哈尔库姆小姐。我以前没见过她。她住在离这里25英里远的韦明翰。我听说过她,因为珀西瓦尔爵士出钱送她女儿去精神病院。但是昨天,凯瑟里克太太让我别跟珀西瓦尔爵士讲她来过的事。这有点儿怪,是吧,小姐?”

奇怪,的确奇怪!但是,我们得把注意力集中到那只小狗身上,虽然我们尽力挽救,没过多久它还是死了。我第一天到布莱克沃特就发生了一件令人伤心的事。

*  *  *

当天晚上,旅行者们都回来了。我见到劳拉的高兴劲儿刚过,就觉得我们之间有一种奇怪的感觉,我意识到她变了。我相信,我们之间很快就会像从前一样。但是她好像失去了原来的纯真和坦诚。她不愿谈自己的婚后生活,而且我发现她同她丈夫之间毫无亲密可言。她很快就向我问起沃尔特:“你收到他的信了吗?他好吗?”显而易见,她还在深深地爱着他。

至于珀西瓦尔爵士,他的脾气变得越发暴躁,越发不讨人喜欢。见到我,他只是简单地说了声“你好,哈尔库姆小姐。很高兴又见到你。”然后就从我身边走过去了。一点点小事也会让他大为恼火。举个例子,米切尔森太太告诉他一个星期前有个男人来找他,但没有留下姓名。珀西瓦尔爵士问那人什么模样,可怜的米切尔森太太说不上来,于是珀西瓦尔爵士勃然大怒,气急败坏地走出房间。

关于福斯科夫人,劳拉说得很对。我从未见过哪个女人身上会发生如此大的变化。她是埃莉诺·费尔利小姐的时候(当时她37岁),经常穿鲜亮的衣服,说傻话,做傻事。她成了福斯科夫人以后(现在她43岁),只穿灰色和黑色的衣服,而且经常几个小时坐在那里一声不吭地做针线,给伯爵卷烟或者像一条忠诚的狗一样望着伯爵。

那么,那个导致了如此变化,驯服了这么一个桀骜不驯的英国女人的男人呢?对,我该怎么描述伯爵呢?他好像可以驯服一切。假如他娶了,我也会像他妻子一样给他卷烟,我也会像她一样被他看一眼就闭上嘴。

我应该怎么解释这个男人的魔力、魅力和影响呢?其实,他身上有许多不招人喜欢的地方。比方说,他体形肥胖,似乎还戴假发,而且少说也有60岁了。他人很懒,听到任何一点儿响动都会跳起来,还特别爱养宠物。他带来各种各样的鸟和一大窝白鼠。他就像小孩子一样,时常亲吻这些宠物,用昵称叫它们。

可是,可是……他身体肥胖,但动作像舞蹈演员一样轻巧灵便。他的脸很光滑,没有皱纹;表情沉稳庄重。他的声音很柔和,有一种难以抵挡的魅力。他精通英语,还是个化学家。他用儿语对白鼠讲话,但是谈到用任何语言写作的书籍,他都睿智机敏,滔滔不绝。他到过一半欧洲国家的首都。他经常谈起在那些城市的经历。

但让我铭记在心的是他的眼睛——一双冷酷、明亮、好看的灰眼睛。他的眼睛有一种慑人的威力,我现在想起来还会打哆嗦。

关于他的过去,我从珀西瓦尔爵士那儿知道的很少。我只知道他很多年没回意大利了,不知道是不是由于政治原因。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士在罗马遇到大难,伯爵帮助他脱离了危险。从那以后,他们成了密友。很明显,珀西瓦尔爵士总是力图讨好伯爵,从不跟他对着干。

我不知道自己是不是也害怕他。但是,他是我所见过的人中我最不愿与之成为敌人的。

*  *  *

他们旅行回来几天后,吃午饭的时候,一个叫梅里曼的人来了,要求马上见珀西瓦尔爵士。看得出,珀西瓦尔没想到这个人会来,他起身出去的时候显得既吃惊又生气。

劳拉和我都不知道梅里曼先生是何许人。伯爵告诉我们他是珀西瓦尔爵士的律师。我不知道出了什么事,因为除了被唤而来,律师是不会从伦敦到汉普郡来的。梅里曼先生一定带来了什么重要消息——不管是好消息还是坏消息。

福斯科伯爵显然看出了我的心事,轻声对我说:“没错,哈尔库姆小姐,确实出事了。”

后来,我从房里出来,看见珀西瓦尔爵士和律师正穿过楼下的大厅。他们说话的声音很低,但还是清晰地传进我的耳朵里。

“是的,珀西瓦尔爵士,”我听见律师说,“一切都取决于格莱德夫人了。”

听到劳拉的名字,我马上停住了脚步。我知道这样做不好,但还是接着往下听。

“你知道,珀西瓦尔爵士,格莱德夫人必须在两个证人在场的情况下签字,只要这件事在一星期之内办妥,一切都好说。如果不行,我可以准备一份文件,向他们保证三个月后付款。可是,三个月后怎么能弄到钱呢……?”

他们走进书房,下面的话我听不见了。好像珀西瓦尔爵士欠了一大笔债,而还债就取决于劳拉。我立即把刚刚听到的消息告诉了劳拉,她看上去一点儿也不惊讶。

“我料到会出这种事,”劳拉说,“在我听说来了一位没有留下姓名的陌生人时,我就料到了。那人很可能是来要钱的。不过别怕,玛丽安,任何今后我可能后悔的文件,我都不会签的。”

那天晚上,珀西瓦尔爵士对我们大家异乎寻常地客气。这说明什么呢?我想我能猜出来——劳拉也能猜出来——而且我敢肯定福斯科伯爵清楚其中的奥秘。我注意到珀西瓦尔有好几次都用眼神征求伯爵的意见。伯爵肯定清楚珀西瓦尔爵士的经济困境。

第二天早上,珀西瓦尔爵士让福斯科伯爵、劳拉还有我午饭后到书房来一下,谈一点事情。午饭前我们一同散步来到了湖边,在船屋里歇脚。

“有人说这湖很美,”珀西瓦尔爵士指着周围的景色说,“我觉得它很丑,像个发生凶案的地方,不是吗?你觉得呢,福斯科?”

“我亲爱的珀西瓦尔,”伯爵反对道,“这里的水太浅了,根本藏不住尸体,只有傻子才在这里谋杀。聪明人会选择别的地方。”

“聪明人不会去杀人的,”劳拉一面说着,一面不高兴地看着伯爵,“我相信你找不出一个聪明人犯罪的例子。”

“亲爱的夫人,”伯爵说,“我可找不出例子,因为聪明人犯罪不会让人知道。”

伯爵一边说着,一边摆弄着小笼子里的白鼠。他突然发现少了一只,但很快在一个座位底下找到了它,同时还发现了让他大吃一惊的东西。

“珀西瓦尔,快过来。你看这沙子,上面有血!”他说。

大家都很吃惊,我不得不告诉他们我发现那只受伤的狗的事情。

“谁的狗?”珀西瓦尔爵士问。

“管家说是凯瑟里克太太的。”我回答,忽然想起来这应该是秘密,可是太晚了。

“凯瑟里克太太到这儿来干什么?”

珀西瓦尔问得既气愤又无礼,我转过身去。福斯科伯爵拍了拍珀西瓦尔的胳膊。

“亲爱的珀西瓦尔!别着急,别着急!”

出乎我的意料,珀西瓦尔给我道了歉。伯爵接着说:“为什么不问问管家呢,珀西瓦尔?她好像知道事情的来龙去脉。”

珀西瓦尔爵士接受了这个建议,马上告辞回了庄园。

伯爵似乎对凯瑟里克太太非常感兴趣,想了解她那次来的所有情况。我尽量少透露信息,可是劳拉也问这问那。最后,我们知道的关于凯瑟里克太太以及她女儿安妮的情况,伯爵全都知道了。从伯爵惊讶的表情我可以断定,在这之前他对安妮·凯瑟里克一无所知。我很纳闷,为什么珀西瓦尔爵士不告诉他的好朋友这些事。

我们回到庄园,珀西瓦尔爵士过来同我们打招呼,“很抱歉,我得跟大家告辞。我要赶很长一段路,明天才能回来。不过,我想走之前了结那件小事。到书房来好吗?一会儿就好。”

来到书房,他从柜子里取出一份文件放到桌子上。文件是叠起来的,文字部分都遮住了,只能看见签字的部分。

他把一支笔递给劳拉,说:“在这儿签字吧。哈尔库姆小姐,你和福斯科等会儿再签。”

alt

“你要我签的是什么文件?”劳拉平静地问。

“我没时间解释,我得走了,就是一份公文,”珀西瓦尔很不高兴地说,“你们女人不懂,你就签字吧。”

“我当然有理由知道我签的是什么。”

“我明白了,你的意思是你不信任我!对吗?这叫什么妻子?”

我站在劳拉一边,说:“如果她不知道签的是什么,那我恐怕无法做证人。”

珀西瓦尔爵士愤怒地转向我,“你好大的胆子!你是我的客人,可却站在我妻子一边同我作对!”

“控制一下你的臭脾气,珀西瓦尔,”伯爵说,我听他对珀西瓦尔耳语:“你这笨蛋!”

劳拉放下笔,走到我身旁。

“格莱德夫人说的对,”伯爵说,“签字的事明天再说吧。”

珀西瓦尔爵士朝他破口大骂,但还是走开了。

“那好吧,”珀西瓦尔说,“那就等明天。不管怎样,我现在得走了。但是,你明天必须签字,否则——”他恶狠狠地瞪了他妻子一眼,然后走出了房间。

劳拉和我往外走的时候,伯爵走了过来。“你们刚才看到了珀西瓦尔爵士脾气最差的样子,”他说,“作为他的老朋友,我替他道歉。我保证他明天不会这样了。”

我开始明白,现在要是没有伯爵的帮助,我是不大可能接续呆在布莱克沃特庄园的。我真心地感谢了他。然后,我拉着劳拉上楼,到我的房间休息一会儿。

在我的房间里,劳拉告诉我结婚后珀西瓦尔爵士对待她多么冷酷,她多么不开心。我努力安慰她,帮她想办法解决签字的问题。忽然,我想到了给吉尔摩先生的合伙人克尔先生写信,问问他的意见。我在信里叫他派一个信使第二天1点之前把回信带过来。写完后,我把信放到了大厅的邮袋里。就在这时,福斯科夫人走过来,约我到花园里谈谈。她跟我足足说了半个小时她有多么同情我。我觉得非常奇怪,因为她以前根本就不在意我。

我回到屋里,看到福斯科伯爵也在往邮袋里放信。不知出于什么原因,我决定查看一下我的信是不是封好了。于是,我把我的那封信拿了出来。我还真做对了,我发现信封是开着的。好奇怪呀,我心里想。也许有人在捣鬼……

也许……

没错!不会是别的原因。

6
An appointment by the lake

After dinner that evening, Laura and I went for a walk down to the lake. The atmosphere was gloomy and depressing, but at least we were alone.

'I want to have no secrets from you, Marian,' Laura said, 'but I'm sure you have already guessed what my married life is like. Sir Percival said such cruel things to me in Italy that I turned for comfort to my memories of those happy days with Walter Hartright. And I have to tell you, Marian, Sir Percival now knows that Walter is the man I loved.'

I stared at her, and what little hope I had left began to die.

'It was at a party in Rome. Some people from London said I should have drawing lessons and recommended a Mr Hartright. I could not control myself when I heard his name and my husband noticed. "So it was him, was it?" he said, with a horrible smile. "Well, we will see about Mr Hartright. You will be sorry, and so will he, to the end of your lives." And Marian, he uses this knowledge like a whip to punish me, day in, day out.'

'Oh, Laura!' I said, putting my arms around her. This was my fault — yes, my fault! I remembered the white despair of Walter's face as I told him to leave, as I tore these two young hearts apart. And I had done this for Sir Percival Glyde.

For Sir Percival Glyde.

*  *  *

It was growing dark when we set out for home, and as we left Laura seized my arm. 'Marian, look!'

By the lake was a dark figure, half hidden by the evening mist rising off the water. We began to walk quickly.

'I'm sure it's following us,' whispered Laura. 'Is it a man or a woman?' She was shaking with fear.

'It's hard to tell in this light,' I said, then called out, 'Who's there?' There was no answer.

We hurried back through the wood, and when we reached home, I sent Laura upstairs and went to find out where everyone was. The Count and his wife, the servants, the housekeeper — all were inside. The figure by the lake was no one from the house. So who could it have been?

The next day Laura discovered she had lost her bracelet and thought she must have dropped it near the lake. She went off to look for it while I waited for the messenger from Mr Kyrle.

One o'clock came. By now I was so suspicious of everyone in the house that I decided to slip out and meet the messenger myself. Taking great care not to be seen, I went down to the main gate and a little way along the road. Soon a cab appeared. I stopped it and said, 'Are you going to Blackwater Park?'

A man put his head out and said, 'Yes, with a letter for Miss Halcombe.'

'You may give the letter to me,' I said. 'I am Miss Halcombe.'

I read the letter quickly.


Dear Miss Halcombe — Your letter has caused me great anxiety. It seems very likely that Lady Glyde's signature is needed so that a Loan of all or part of her £20,000 can be made to Sir Percival. This is almost certainly illegal, and Lady Glyde should not sign any document until I have examined it first.

Sincerely, William Kyrle.


I read this very thankfully and told the messenger to say that I understood the letter. As I spoke these words, Count Fosco came round the corner and suddenly appeared in front of me. Completely taken by surprise, I stared at him speechlessly. The messenger drove away in his cab, and the Count took my arm to walk home with me.

He talked pleasantly of this and that, and asked no questions about letters or messengers, so I assumed he had found out everything. He must have read my letter, returned it to the post-bag, and now knew that I had received an answer. There was no point in trying to deceive him so I said nothing, and just tried to seem quite cool and calm.

Back at the house we found that Sir Percival had returned, in an even worse mood than before, it seemed. When I told him Laura was out looking for her bracelet, he growled,

'Bracelet or no bracelet, I shall expect to see her in the library in half an hour.'

I turned to go into the house, but behind me heard the Count saying to Sir Percival, 'May I have five minutes' talk with you, here on the grass?'

They walked off together and I went inside to the sitting room, to think over all that had happened. Before long, however, the door opened softly and the Count looked in.

'Good news, Miss Halcombe,' he said. 'The business of the signature is put off for the moment. I'm sure you are relieved.'

He went out before I had recovered from my amazement. There could be no doubt that this change was due to his influence. His discovery of my writing to London and receiving an answer had caused him to interfere. Now there was even more to think about but, exhausted by worry and the heat of the day, my eyes closed and I fell into a little sleep.

I woke to find Laura's hand on my shoulder.

'Marian! The figure at the lake. I've just spoken to her! It's Anne Catherick. Look, she found my bracelet.'

Still half asleep, I stared at her stupidly. 'Anne Catherick?'

'Yes! I was searching in the boat-house,' Laura went on, 'when a woman in a white dress came in and said quietly, "Miss Fairlie. I have your bracelet. Your mother would not want you to lose it. "I jumped up, but her voice was so kind that I wasn't afraid. I asked her how she knew my mother. She said her name was Anne Catherick and asked me if I remembered as a little girl walking with her and my mother to the school in Limmeridge one day. I did remember. Suddenly I saw that we were like each other, but her face was pale and thin and tired. It was how my face might look after a long illness. "Why do you call me Miss Fairlie?" I asked, and she answered, "Because I love the name of Fairlie and hate the name of Glyde."'

'Did she say anything about your husband?' I asked.

'She said that after she wrote the letter, she did not have the courage to stay in Limmeridge to try to prevent my marriage to him. She was afraid he would find her and shut her up in the asylum again. But she was not afraid any more because she was so ill she thought she was dying. Then, Marian, she said that she and her mother knew a secret that my husband was afraid of.'

'Yes? Go on!' I said eagerly. 'What secret?'

'She was just going to tell me, when she thought she heard a noise outside. "We are not alone," she said, "someone is watching. Come here tomorrow at this time and I will tell you." Then she pushed me to one side and disappeared.'

'Oh, Laura, Laura, another chance lost! But you must keep the appointment tomorrow. It seems so important. I will follow you at a safe distance. She must not escape this time.'

We were silent for a time. Then Laura said anxiously, 'Why hasn't Sir Percival called us to the library to sign the document?'

'Oh yes! I forgot to tell you,' I said. 'Thanks to Count Fosco, the business of the signature has been postponed.'

'But why?' Laura said, amazed. 'If Sir Percival urgently needs money, how can it be postponed?'

'I heard Sir Percival's lawyer mention a second plan — to give a document promising payment in three months.'

'Oh, Marian!' she said. 'That would be such a relief.'

'Yes, it would. Let's hope that it's true.'

That evening Sir Percival was polite, even pleasant, especially to Laura. This must have been due to the Count's influence, and it worried me. What lay behind it? I was sure that Sir Percival's sudden journey yesterday had been to Welmingham, to question Mrs Catherick. What had he learnt? What were his plans? As the evening passed, I grew more and more uneasy, and I went to bed feeling very anxious about what the next day would bring.

*  *  *

I was not wrong to be anxious. The next day Laura and I arranged that after lunch she would go alone to the boat-house, and that I would follow a little later, taking great care that Anne Catherick did not see me, in case she was frightened by the appearance of another stranger.

Sir Percival had gone out earlier in the morning and did not appear even for lunch, so it was quite easy to put our plan into action. However, when I came quietly up to the back of the boat-house, I heard no voices, no sounds of movement, nothing. Soon I was searching inside the boat-house, and softly calling Laura's name. But no one answered and no one appeared. Outside, I searched the ground for signs, and found the footprints of two people in the sand — big footprints like a man's and small footprints, which I was sure were Laura's. There was also a little hole in the sand by the wall of the boat-house.

Desperate with worry, I hurried back to the house. The first person I met was Mrs Michelson, the housekeeper.

'Do you know,' I asked, 'whether Lady Glyde has come in?'

'Yes, she has, Miss Halcombe. And I am afraid something unfortunate has happened. Lady Glyde ran upstairs in tears and Sir Percival has told me to dismiss her servant, Fanny.'

My heart sank. Fanny was Laura's personal servant from Limmeridge, and the only person in the house we both trusted.

I ran upstairs to Laura's room. Her door was shut, and there was one of Sir Percival's house servants standing in front of it.

'Move away,' I said. 'Don't you see that I want to go in?'

'But you mustn't go in,' she answered. 'I have my orders.'

Wild with anger, I turned and went downstairs to find Sir Percival. He was in the library with the Count and Countess.

'Am I to understand that your wife's room is a prison?' I asked, staring him full in the face.

'Yes, that is what you are to understand,' he answered.

'Take care how you treat your wife!' I shouted furiously. 'There are laws to protect women, and I will use those laws.'

Instead of answering me, he turned to the Count. The Count looked at me with his calm, cold, grey eyes. But it was the Countess who spoke.

'Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Percival,' she said suddenly. 'But I cannot remain in a house where ladies are treated as your wife and Miss Halcombe have been treated today!'

Sir Percival stared at her in shocked silence, knowing, as I did, she would not have said this without the Count's permission.

'I agree with my wife,' the Count said quietly.

Sir Percival swore, then whispered angrily, 'All right, have your own way.' With these words he left the room.

'We have made the worst-tempered man in England see reason,' said the Count. 'Thanks to your courage, Miss Halcombe, this insulting situation is now ended.'

I tried to speak normally, but could not. The Count left the library, then returned a few minutes later to say that Lady Glyde had the freedom of her own house again. Immediately I rushed upstairs to Laura's room. She was alone inside and I was in such a hurry that I did not close the door properly behind me.

'Marian!' she said thankfully. 'How did you get here?'

'It was the Count's influence, of course,' I said.

'That horrible man!' she cried. 'He's a miserable spy!'

Just then we heard a knock on the door. It was the Countess, bringing me a handkerchief I had dropped. Her face was white, and I saw in her eyes that she had been listening at the door.

'Oh, Laura,' I said when she had gone, 'you shouldn't have called the Count a spy. We shall both regret it.'

'But he is a spy, Marian! There was someone watching me at the lake yesterday, and it was him. He told Sir Percival, who watched and waited all morning for me and Anne Catherick. But she didn't come — I found a note from her hidden in a hole in the sand. She said she'd been followed yesterday by a fat old man. He hadn't caught her, but she was afraid to come back this afternoon. She hid this note very early in the morning, and said she would see me again soon to tell me Sir Percival's secret.'

'What happened to the note?' I said. 'Have you got it?'

'No. While I was reading it, Sir Percival appeared. He took it from me and demanded to hear everything Anne Catherick had said. He held my arm so tightly! — look, see how he's bruised it. What could I do, Marian? I was helpless! I told him everything.'

I looked at the bruises on Laura's arm, and felt such furious hatred for Sir Percival that I dared not speak.

'But he didn't believe me,' Laura went on. 'He said he knew she had told me more and that he would lock me up until I had confessed the truth. Then he took me back to the house, gave orders for Fanny to leave, and locked me in my room. Oh, Marian, he was like a madman! What are we to do?'

'He is mad — mad with fear. He thinks you know his secret,' I said. 'I must act now to protect you — who knows how long I will be allowed to stay here?' I thought hard for a few minutes. 'I will write two letters and give them to Fanny to take with her. I can't trust the post-bag here any more. One for Mr Kyrle, telling him of your bruises and Sir Percival's violent behaviour.'

'And who is the other letter for?' asked Laura anxiously.

'For Mr Fairlie,' I said. 'Your lazy, selfish uncle. I'll make him invite you for a visit to Limmeridge, without your husband.'

I left her then and went to my room to write the letters. Fanny had already gone and was staying the night in the little hotel in the village, before beginning the long journey to Cumberland the next day. I decided I had time before dinner to walk to the village and back, so I slipped quietly out of the house and set off.

From time to time I looked behind me. Was I being followed? Or was my imagination playing tricks on me? By now I was suspicious of everything — every tiny sound, every shadow on the road, every breath of wind. Earlier, while writing the letters, I thought I had heard the rustle of a silk dress outside my door. I had even wondered if someone had been in my room, looking through the things in my desk. I hurried on, trying to put these thoughts out of my mind.

When I got to the little hotel, I saw Fanny in her room. She was very upset at leaving Laura, and started crying, but stopped when I told her that Lady Glyde and I needed her help.

'Here are two letters,' I said. 'Post the one addressed to Mr Kyrle in London tomorrow, and deliver the other to Mr Fairlie yourself when you get home to Limmeridge. Keep them safe!'

Fanny put the letters down the front of her dress. 'They'll stay there, miss,' she said, 'till I've done what you tell me.'


day in, day out one day after another 一天又一天地

seize v. take hold of forcibly or suddenly 紧紧抓住

illegal adj. contrary to law 不合法的

assume v. take or accept as being true, without proof 推想

growl v. murmur angrily 咕哝

put off postpone 推迟

exhaust v. use up the strength or resources of a person 筋疲力尽

postpone v. put off 推迟

footprint n. the impression left by a foot or shoe 脚印;鞋印

dismiss v. discharge from employment 辞退

hospitality n. the friendly and generous reception or entertainment of guests or strangers 热情款待

insulting adj. offending one self-respect or modesty 侮辱性的

bruise v. inflict a bruise on 使受淤伤

selfish adj. deficient in consideration for others 自私的

breath n. slight movement of air 轻风

6.湖畔之约

那天晚饭后,劳拉和我散步来到湖边。周围的环境昏暗而压抑,但至少我们可以单独在一起。

“我不愿对你有任何秘密,玛丽安,”劳拉开口说,“但是,我相信你已经猜到我婚后的生活是什么样子。在意大利,珀西瓦尔爵士跟我说了很多恶毒的话,我只能借助回忆同沃尔特·哈特里特在一起的幸福时光来寻求安慰。我得告诉你,玛丽安,珀西瓦尔爵士现在已经知道沃尔特是我所爱的人了。”

我的眼睛紧盯着她,心中仅存的一线希望也开始泯灭了。

“那是在罗马的一次聚会上,几个从伦敦来的朋友说我应该学学绘画,并向我推荐哈特里特先生。听到他的名字,我无法控制自己的感情,这些被我丈夫看到了。‘就是他,对吗?’他狞笑着问我,‘哈特里特先生的事我们走着瞧。你和他都会后悔一辈子的。’玛丽安,他抓住这件事一天又一天地折磨我。”

“噢,劳拉!”我搂住她。这都是我的错——是的,是我的错!我还记得我告诉沃尔特必须离开的时候,他脸上那惨淡绝望的表情。是我把两颗相爱的心拆开了。我这样做却成全了珀西瓦尔爵士。

成全了珀西瓦尔爵士。

*  *  *

天黑了下来,我们开始往回走。劳拉突然抓住我的胳膊,“玛丽安,你看!”

湖边有一个黑影,傍晚水面上升起的雾气遮住了我们的视线。我们开始加快脚步。

“我敢肯定有人跟踪我们,”劳拉低声说,“是男的还是女的?”她害怕得浑身发抖。

“在这样的光线里看不清,”我回答,然后大声喊道,“谁在那儿?”没有反应。

我们很快地穿过树林,回到家里。我把劳拉送上楼,然后就去查看家里的其他人都在哪儿。伯爵夫妇,仆人,管家——所有的人都在。湖边那个人影不是家里的人,那会是谁呢?

第二天,劳拉发现手镯丢了,她认为一定是丢在湖边了。她出去找手镯,我留在家里等克尔先生的信使。

1点到了。现在,我对家里的每个人都有怀疑,所以决定溜出去自己迎接信使。我尽量不让别人看见,独自来到大门口,又朝前走了一段。不一会儿,一辆马车过来了。我拦住车,问:“是去布莱克沃特庄园吗?”

一个男人探出头说:“是的,给哈尔库姆小姐送信。”

“把信给我吧,”我说,“我就是哈尔库姆小姐。”

我迫不及待地读了来信。

亲爱的哈尔库姆小姐,你的来信令我深感不安。情况很可能是只要有格莱德夫人的签字,珀西瓦尔爵士就可以借走她的20,000英镑或其中一部分,几乎可以肯定这是不合法的。任何我没有仔细看过的文件,格莱德夫人都不要签字。

此致,威廉·克尔

我满怀感激地读完信,告诉信使我明白了信的意思。正说着,福斯科伯爵突然从拐角那边走了出来,出现在我的面前。我没有任何思想准备,两眼盯着他,一句话也说不出来。信使赶车离开了,伯爵挽着我的手臂往回走。

路上,他兴致勃勃地说这说那,没有问任何关于信和信使的事,我想他已经什么都知道了。他肯定偷看了我的信,然后又放回到邮袋里,现在也知道我收到了回信。没有必要再瞒他什么,所以我什么话也不说,尽量表现得镇定。

回到庄园,我们发现珀西瓦尔爵士已经回来了,看上去情绪更加糟糕。我告诉他劳拉出去找手镯了,他生气地咕哝道:

“什么手镯不手镯的,我半小时后必须在书房见她。”

我转身朝屋里走,但听见身后伯爵对珀西瓦尔说:“我可以跟你在草坪上谈5分钟吗?”

他们俩一起走开了,我走进客厅,思考着刚发生的一切。不一会儿,门轻轻地开了,福斯科伯爵出现在门口。

“好消息,哈尔库姆小姐,”他说,“签字的事推迟了,我想你一定放心了吧。”

我还没来得及从惊讶中回过神来,他就出去了。毫无疑问,是他施加了影响才有现在的变化。他发现我给伦敦写信并且收到了回信,于是他开始干预。还有很多事需要考虑,但我实在累极了,再加上天热,我睁不开眼睛,就这么睡着了。

醒来后,我发现劳拉的一只手搭在我的肩上。

“玛丽安!湖边那个人影。我刚跟她谈过了!她是安妮·凯瑟里克。瞧,她找到了我的手镯。”

我还在半梦半醒之间,迷迷糊糊地看着她问:“安妮·凯瑟里克?”

“是的!我正在船屋里找手镯,”劳拉接着说,“一个穿白衣服的女人进来,轻声说:‘费尔利小姐,你的手镯在我这儿。你的母亲一定不希望你把它弄丢了。’我一下子跳了起来,但她的声音非常友善,我很快就不害怕了。我问她怎么认识我母亲。她告诉我她叫安妮·凯瑟里克,问我记不记得小时候有一天同她还有母亲一道去利默里奇的学校。我确实记得。我突然发现我们俩长得很相像,只是她的脸看上去苍白、消瘦、疲惫。我久病之后可能就是那个样子。‘你为什么叫我费尔利小姐?’我问她。她回答说:‘因为我喜欢费尔利这个姓,憎恨格莱德这个姓。’”

“她提到你丈夫了吗?”我问。

“她说她写完那封信以后,没有勇气再呆在利默里奇阻止我和他结婚。她害怕他找到她,再把她关进精神病院。但是现在她不怕了,因为她现在病得很厉害,就要死了。然后,玛丽安,她说她和她母亲知道一个令我丈夫非常害怕的秘密。”

“什么秘密?快说啊!”我急切地问,“什么秘密?”

“她刚要告诉我,就听见外面有响动。‘有人,’她说,‘有人在盯着我们。明天这个时间到这儿来,我再告诉你。’说完,她就推开我走了。”

“噢,劳拉,劳拉,又一个机会跑掉了!你明天一定要去,那个秘密一定非常重要。我跟你去,躲在远处不让她看见。这次可不能叫她再跑了。”

我们沉默了一会儿。然后,劳拉不安地问:“珀西瓦尔爵士怎么还没来叫我们去书房签字呢?”

“对了,我刚才忘了告诉你,”我说,“多亏了福斯科伯爵,签字的事推迟了。”

“为什么?”劳拉惊疑地问,“珀西瓦尔爵士那么急需钱,怎么会推迟呢?”

“我听珀西瓦尔爵士的律师提过另一个计划,要做一份保证三个月后还钱的文件。”

“噢,玛丽安!”她说,“那可太好了。”

“是很好,但愿这是真的。”

那天晚上,珀西瓦尔爵士对大家,尤其对劳拉,非常有礼貌,甚至可以说是非常好。这一定是伯爵的功劳,我对此很担心。这背后到底隐藏着什么?我想珀西瓦尔爵士昨天突然离开,肯定是去韦明翰找凯瑟里克太太了。他得到什么消息没有?他下一步想干什么?一个晚上,我越来越放心不下。睡觉时我对明天将要发生的事情异常担心。

*  *  *

我的担心没有错。第二天,劳拉和我商量好,午饭后她先一个人到船屋去,过一会儿我再去,尽量不让安妮·凯瑟里克看见我,以免她被我这个陌生人吓跑。

上午,珀西瓦尔爵士比往常出去得更早,连午饭也没来吃,因此我们实施计划也更容易一些。然而,我蹑手蹑脚来到船屋后面的时候,却听不到一点儿动静。我进去寻找,轻声叫着劳拉的名字。可是没有人回答,也没有人影。我来到屋外,仔细察看地面,发现沙地上有两个人的脚印——大一些的像是男人的,小一些的我敢肯定是劳拉的。船屋墙边的沙地上还有一个小坑。

我担心极了,赶忙回到庄园。我见到的第一个人是管家米切尔森太太。

“你知道格莱德夫人回来了吗?”我问。

“是的,她回来了,哈尔库姆小姐。可能出了什么不幸的事。格莱德夫人哭着跑上了楼,珀西瓦尔爵士叫我把她的仆人范妮辞退了。”

我的心一下子沉了下来。范妮是劳拉从利默里奇带来的贴身仆人,也是我们两人在这里唯一信任的人。

我跑上楼,来到劳拉的房门口。房门紧闭,珀西瓦尔的一个仆人站在门口。

“让开,”我大声说,“你没看见我要进去吗?”

“你不能进去,”仆人说,“我得听主人的吩咐。”

我肺都要气炸了,转身下楼去找珀西瓦尔爵士。他和伯爵夫妇正在书房。

“你妻子的房间是监狱吗?”我眼睛直盯着他问道。

“是的,你应该明白这点。”他回答。

“请注意你是如何对待你妻子的!”我愤怒地嚷着。“妇女受法律的保护,我会告你的。”

珀西瓦尔爵士没有接我的话,而是转向了伯爵。伯爵用他那平静、冷漠的灰眼睛看着我。但开口的是伯爵夫人。

“谢谢你的热情款待,珀西瓦尔爵士,”她突然说道。“但是,今天你的妻子和哈尔库姆小姐在这里受到如此的对待,我是不能再呆下去了!”

珀西瓦尔爵士目瞪口呆地盯着伯爵夫人,他跟我一样心里明白,没有伯爵的准许,她是不会说这番话的。

“我同意我妻子的话。”伯爵不紧不慢地说。

珀西瓦尔骂了一句,然后气哼哼地低声说:“好吧,你们要怎样就怎样吧。”说完,他走了出去。

“我们让英国脾气最坏的人明白道理了,”伯爵说,“多亏你的勇气,哈尔库姆小姐,这个令人难堪的局面终于结束了。”

我试图以正常的方式讲话,可是却做不到。伯爵走出了书房,几分钟后回来说,格莱德夫人在她自己的家里重获自由了。我立刻冲上楼来到劳拉的房间。她一个人在里面,我进去得太急了,没有关好门。

“玛丽安!”劳拉感激地说,“你是怎么进来的?”

“当然是伯爵帮的忙。”我回答。

“那个可怕的人!”她大声说,“他是个可恶的奸细!”

就在这时,我听到有人敲门。来的是伯爵夫人,她给我送刚才落在楼下的手绢。她脸色苍白,看了她的眼神,我就明白她一直在门口偷听。

“哦,劳拉,”伯爵夫人走了以后,我对劳拉说,“你不应该管伯爵叫奸细,我们都会后悔的。”

“他真的是奸细,玛丽安!昨天在湖边有人跟踪我,那人就是他。是他告诉珀西瓦尔的,珀西瓦尔整个上午都在等我和安妮·凯瑟里克。凯瑟里克没来,我在沙地小坑里找到一张纸条,上面说一个胖老头昨天跟踪她。那人没有抓住她,但是她今天下午不敢来了。她一大早就来藏了纸条,还说她会很快再来见我,告诉我珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。”

“那张纸条呢?”我问,“在你手里吗?”

“没有。我正在看的时候,珀西瓦尔爵士出现在我面前。他把纸条夺过去,要我告诉他安妮·凯瑟里克说了什么。他那么用力地抓我的手臂!——看,都青了。我能怎么办,玛丽安?我一点儿办法也没有,只好都告诉他了。”

我看着劳拉手臂上的伤,心里恨透了珀西瓦尔爵士却敢怒不敢言。

“可他还不相信我,”劳拉继续说道,“他说他知道凯瑟里克还告诉了我很多事,我不说实话,他就把我锁起来。然后他把我带回庄园,下令辞退范妮,还把我锁在房间里。噢,玛丽安,他简直像个疯子!我们该怎么办呢?”

“他是疯了——因为他害怕。他认为你知道了他的秘密,”我说,“我必须采取行动保护你——谁知道我还可以在这儿呆多久呢?”我冥思苦想了几分钟,“我要写两封信让范妮带走。我再也不能相信那个邮袋了。一封给克尔先生,告诉他你的伤和珀西瓦尔爵士的粗暴行为。”

“那另外一封呢?”劳拉迫不及待地问。

“给费尔利先生,”我回答,“你那懒惰、自私的叔叔。我要让他请你回一次利默里奇,不带你丈夫。”

离开劳拉,我回到自己的房间,开始写信。范妮已经离开了庄园,今晚住在村里的旅店,明天动身长途旅行去坎伯兰郡。我想我晚饭前有时间到旅店,然后再回来。所以,我悄悄地溜出庄园,朝村子走去。

我不时回头张望,看是否有人跟踪。或许是我的想象在作怪?现在,我开始怀疑一切——任何小的声响,路上的影子,一切风吹草动。刚才写信的时候,我觉得门外有丝绸衣服的响动。我甚至怀疑是否有人来我房间偷看过我桌子里的东西。我加快了脚步,尽量不去想这些。

来到小旅店,我在范妮的房间见到了她。离开劳拉让她难过得哭了起来。但是,当我告诉她格莱德夫人和我需要她的帮助时,她不哭了。

“这儿有两封信,”我说,“一封你明天到伦敦后寄给克尔先生,另一封你到利默里奇后亲手交给费尔利先生。一定把信收好。”

范妮把信塞到衣服里。“我把信放在这儿,小姐,”她说,“我会照你的吩咐去做。”

7
A conversation in the night

I arrived back at the house with only twenty minutes to get ready for dinner — and to slip into Laura's room to say that the letters were safely in Fanny's hands.

Laura looked pale. 'I'm not coming down to dinner,' she said. 'Sir Percival came to my door, shouting at me to tell him where Anne Catherick is.'

'At least that means he hasn't found her yet,' I said.

At dinner the Count looked hot and red in the face, and his clothes were a little untidy. Had he been out too, I wondered? He seemed troubled by some secret annoyance or anxiety, and was almost as silent as Sir Percival. At the end of the meal, when Madame Fosco and I left the table, the Count stood up too.

'Where are you going, Fosco?' Sir Percival said. 'Sit down and have another glass of wine. I want a quiet talk with you.'

'Not now, Percival. Later,' he answered.

Earlier in the day I had heard Sir Percival make the same request, and this was the second time the Count had postponed the talk. Why, I wondered? And what was it that Sir Percival wanted to discuss so urgently?

We went into the living room and Madame Fosco, usually so slow and deliberate in her movements, drank her tea at great speed and then slipped quietly out of the room. I began to leave too, but the Count stopped me, first by a request for more tea, then by asking my opinion on some music, and then by playing several noisy Italian songs on the piano. Eventually, I escaped from him and went up to Laura's room. Had she seen or heard anything of Madame Fosco, I asked? No, she had not. We talked together till ten o'clock, and then I went downstairs again to say goodnight. Sir Percival, the Count and his wife were sitting together in the living room. I noticed that Madame Fosco's face was now hot and red. Where had she been, and what had she been doing? As I looked at her, she gave a little smile, as though at some private joke.

I said goodnight to everybody, and as I left the room, I heard Sir Percival say impatiently to the Count, 'Come outside and have a smoke, Fosco.'

'With pleasure, Percival, when all the ladies have gone to bed,' replied the Count.

Up in my room, I could not stop myself thinking about this private discussion between Sir Percival and the Count, postponed all day and now, it seemed, about to take place in the silence and loneliness of the night. After a while, I went from my bedroom into my sitting room, and closed the door between the rooms. It was dark, as no candles were lit, and I looked out of the open window for some time, down into the blackness of the garden. There was a smell like rain in the still, heavy air.

Suddenly I saw two red points of light advancing in the dark and stopping below my bedroom window, inside which a candle was burning. One red point was small, the other was big. The Count smoking a cigarette, and Sir Percival smoking a cigar, I think. They could not see me in the darkness of my sitting room, so I waited to hear what they said.

'Why don't you come in and sit down?' Sir Percival said.

'Wait till we see that light go out,' replied the Count. 'When I know she's in bed, and I have checked the rooms on each side of the library, then we will talk.'

Such secrecy! I decided I must listen to this conversation, in spite of the Count's efforts to keep it private. The idea terrified me, but Laura's happiness — perhaps even her life — might depend on what I heard. How could I do it? I realized I could get out on to the flat verandah roof which ran past the bedrooms, about three feet below the windows. It was narrow, but there was room to move along it till I was above the library window. The Count and Sir Percival usually sat near the open window, smoking, and if they did, I would be able to hear them from above.

I went back to my bedroom, put on a long dark cloak with a hood, and put out the candle. Then, after a while, I returned to my sitting room and climbed out of the window on to the verandah roof. My heart began to beat very fast. I had to pass five windows — four were dark, but the fifth window was the Countess's room, and it looked out over the exact place above the library where I planned to sit. And there was still a light in it. I crept along the roof, then went down on my hands and knees to pass her window. As I passed, I looked up — and saw her shadow against the thin curtains at the window...

I stop breathing. Has she heard me? Will she look out? No, the shadow moves away, she's gone. Now I move to my position at the edge of the roof and begin to listen. Are they there, or have they gone elsewhere for their talk? Ah, I can hear the Count's voice.

'Miss Halcombe's light is out, the rooms next door are empty, the only window with a light in is my wife's — so now we may talk. We are at a serious crisis in our affairs, Percival, and we must decide about the future tonight.'

'It's a worse crisis than you think,' growls Sir Percival.

'Listen, Percival. This is our situation. We both came to this house in need of money and the only way of getting it was with the help of your wife. Now what did I tell you? I told you never to lose your temper with her, and especially never with her sister, Miss Halcombe. And have you remembered this? Not once. Your mad temper lost your wife's signature, lost the ready money, made Miss Halcombe write to the lawyer for the first time —'

'First time! Has she written again?'

'Yes, she has written again today.'

What! How does he know that? Did he follow me to the hotel? But even if he did, he couldn't have seen the letters — they went straight from my hand to Fanny's dress. So how does he know?

'You're lucky,' the Count continues, 'that you have me in the house to undo the harm that you do. Lucky that I said no when you were mad enough to make your wife a prisoner and keep her from Miss Halcombe. Can't you see that Miss Halcombe has the courage and understanding of a man? How I admire that woman! But she stands like a rock between us and that pretty little wife of yours. Now, the money. We have obtained a loan — a horribly expensive loan — by signing a document promising to repay it in three months. When the time comes, is there really no way to repay the money except by the help of your wife?'

'None.'

'What money do you actually get from your wife at present?'

'Only the income from her twenty thousand pounds.'

'Do you expect any more from your wife?'

'Absolutely nothing — except in the case of her death.'

'Aha! In the case of her death.'

A pause. It has begun to rain, and already I feel wet and cold.

Sir Percival again. 'If she leaves no children, I get her twenty thousand pounds.'

'Percival! Do you care about your wife?'

'Fosco! That's a very direct question.'

'Let's say your wife dies before the end of the summer — '

'Forget it, Fosco!'

'You would gain twenty thousand pounds.'

'Speak for yourself as well as for me, Fosco. You would also gain — my wife's death would be ten thousand pounds in your wife's pocket.'

'Percival, here is the position. If your wife lives, you pay that debt with her signature on the document. If your wife dies, you pay the debt with her death.'

The light in Madame Fosco's room goes out, and the verandah roof is now sunk in darkness. The rain continues. I Listen with every nerve in my body, memorizing word after word.

'Percival, you must now leave this matter in my hands. I have more than two months to find the solution, so let's not talk about it any more. Let me help you with your other difficulty — the difficulty that seems to have the name of Anne Catherick.'

'Look, Fosco, we may be friends, but we still have our secrets. This does not concern you. Please don't ask me about it.'

'My friend, I can respect a secret. So I won't ask you to tell me. But can I help you all the same?'

'If I don't find Anne Catherick, I'm a lost man. Both she and her mother know this — this secret. It could ruin me, Fosco. Anne Catherick has spoken to my wife and I'm sure she's told her.'

'But as your wife, surely it's in her interest to keep it a secret?'

'If she loved me, that would be true. But she's in love with someone she met before we married, a drawing teacher called Walter Hartright. And who helped Anne Catherick escape from the asylum? Hartright. Who saw her again in Cumberland? Hartright. He knows the secret, and my wife knows the secret. If they get together, they will use it against me.'

'Yes, yes, I see. Where is Mr Hartright?'

'Out of the country. He sailed for America.'

'Don't worry, then. I will deal with him if he ever comes back. Depend on it. But first we must find Anne Catherick. What about her mother? Can she be trusted?'

'It's in her interest not to tell anyone the secret.'

'Good. Now, how will I recognize Anne Catherick?'

'Easily. She's the pale, sickly likeness of my wife.'

A noise as a chair is pushed back. The Count has jumped to his feet and is walking about. He seems amazed.

'What!!! Are she and your wife related to each other?'

'Not at all.'

'And yet so alike? Well, I will know her when I see her.'

'What the devil are you laughing about, Fosco?'

'Just a thought, my good friend, just a thought. But enough for tonight. You will pay the debt and find Anne Catherick. I promise you. You can put your mind at rest, Percival.'

Not another word is spoken. I hear the library door close. I am wet to the skin, stiff and aching with the cold. At first I can't move, but slowly, painfully, I creep back to my window and climb in. As I fall on the floor, I hear the clock strike a quarter past one. Time passes. Somehow I manage to get up and put on dry clothes. I am burning hot — and shivering with cold. I know I must write down what I have heard, so I find paper and pen and write without stopping. The fever rises in me, burning, burning. I open the window for cool air...

Eight o'clock. Bright sunshine, which hammers at my eyes. My head aches, my bones ache, my skin burns, yet I cannot stop shivering. I lie down to sleep, my writing finished, and in my fever I see Count Fosco come into my room and read the pages I have written. He smiles. I am helpless — unable to move, speak, breathe... and I sink into the long, black night of illness...


untidy adj. not neat or orderly 不整齐的

deliberate adj. leisurely, unhurried 不慌不忙的

impatiently adv. lacking patience or tolerance 不耐烦地;着急地

go out put out 吹灭;熄灭

verandah n. an open area with a floor and a roof that is built on the side of a house on the ground floor 游廊

crisis n. time of danger or difficulty 危机

understanding n. the ability to understand or think 见识

memorize v. commit to memory 记住

in her interest as something that is advantageous to her 对她有利

hammer at inflict pain at 使疼痛

7.深夜密谈

我回到庄园时,只剩20分钟就要吃晚餐了——我还得溜进劳拉的房间,告诉她信已经安全地交给范妮了。

劳拉脸色苍白。“我不下楼吃晚饭了,”她说,“珀西瓦尔爵士刚来过,站在门口朝我大喊,要我告诉他安妮·凯瑟里克在哪儿。”

“这起码说明他还没找到她。”我说。

吃晚饭的时候,福斯科伯爵满脸通红,衣服也有些不整。他也出去了吗,我心里疑惑。他似乎有什么秘密的困扰,几乎和珀西瓦尔爵士一样一言不发。吃罢饭,伯爵夫人和我往外走的时候,伯爵也站起身。

“你去哪里,福斯科?”珀西瓦尔爵士问道,“坐下再喝一杯。我要同你单独谈一谈。”

“现在不行,珀西瓦尔。以后吧。”伯爵回答。

白天的时候我也听到珀西瓦尔爵士提出同样的要求,这是一天之内伯爵第二次推迟和珀西瓦尔谈话了。为什么呢?我不明白。珀西瓦尔爵士这么着急要和伯爵谈什么呢?

我们走进客厅,平常总是慢条斯理的伯爵夫人迅速地喝完茶,不声不响地走了出去。我也朝外面走,但是伯爵叫住了我。他先是要我帮他添茶,然后又问我对某些音乐的看法,还在钢琴上弹了几首闹哄哄的意大利曲子。最后,我才得以离开他,来到劳拉的房间。我问她有没有看见伯爵夫人或是听见她的动静?她说没有。我们俩一直聊到10点,我下楼跟大家道晚安。珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵夫妇都在客厅坐着。我注意到伯爵夫人的脸通红。她刚才去哪儿了,干什么去了?看到我在打量她,伯爵夫人笑了笑,好像我们两个私下开过什么玩笑似的。

我同大家道了晚安。离开客厅的时候,我听见珀西瓦尔爵士不耐烦地对伯爵说:“到外面来抽支烟,福斯科。”

“好的,珀西瓦尔。等女士们都去睡了以后。”伯爵说。

回到楼上的房间,我还在想珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵的密谈,拖了一天,到现在终于要在寂静的夜晚进行了。过了一会儿,我从卧室来到我的客厅,把房门关好。房间漆黑一片,没有点蜡烛。我透过窗子向外望了一会儿,外面的花园一片黑暗,宁静、潮湿的空气中有一种雨的味道。

突然,我看到黑暗中有两个红色的亮点在移动,然后在我卧室的窗下停住了,我卧室里点着一支蜡烛。一个亮点小,另一个大些。我想肯定是伯爵在抽烟卷,珀西瓦尔爵士在抽雪茄。我的客厅是黑的,他们看不见我。因此,我在客厅等着听他们说什么。

“为什么不进屋,坐下来谈?”珀西瓦尔爵士说。

“等到那蜡烛灭了再说,”伯爵说,“等她睡了,我再查看一下书房两边的房间,然后我们再谈。”

那么机密!不管伯爵怎样保密,我一定要听听这场谈话。这个想法使我很害怕,但是劳拉的幸福——甚或她的生命——可能都跟我听到的内容有关。我怎么去偷听呢?我想到可以从游廊的平顶上过去,平顶连着好几间卧室,比窗户大约低3英尺。顶子很窄,但还是可以过去,到达书房窗户的上面。伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士经常坐在敞开的窗子旁抽烟,如果是这样的话,我就可以从上面偷听他们的谈话了。

我回到卧室,穿上一件长长的带有兜帽的黑色斗篷,吹灭了蜡烛。呆了一会儿,我回到客厅,爬出窗户来到游廊的平顶上。我的心跳开始加速。我必须爬过五个窗子,其中四个已经没有了亮光,可第五个是伯爵夫人的房间,那儿恰好在书房上面,正是我要偷听的地方。而且,伯爵夫人的房间里还亮着烛光。我沿着平顶往前移动,然后手脚并用地爬过她的窗子。经过她窗下时,我抬头看了看——透过薄薄的窗帘看见她在窗前的身影……

我屏住呼吸。她是不是听见我在这儿了?她会向外看吗?没有,影子移开了,她走了。我来到平顶的边上,找好了偷听的位置。他们在这儿吗?会不会到别的地方去谈?啊,我听见伯爵的声音了。

“哈尔库姆小姐房间的蜡烛灭了,这两边的房间没人,唯一有亮光的窗户是我妻子的房间——好了,我们现在可以谈了。珀西瓦尔,我们的事现在出现了严重危机,今晚我们必须计划一下该怎么办。”

“事情比你想的还要糟。”珀西瓦尔爵士嘀咕着。

“听着,珀西瓦尔。这就是我们两人的处境。我们都是为了钱才到这个庄园来的,而得到钱的唯一途径是通过你的妻子。我跟你说过什么?我告诉你千万不要跟你妻子发脾气,尤其不能和她姐姐哈尔库姆小姐发脾气。可是你记住了吗?根本没有。你的坏脾气让我们失去了你妻子的签字,到手的钱没了,还让哈尔库姆小姐给律师写了第一封信——”

“第一封信?她又写信了吗?”

“是的,她今天又写信了。”

什么!他是怎么知道的?他是不是跟踪我去了旅店?但是就算他去了,也不会看到那两封信的——信是直接从我手里到了范妮的衣服里的。那他是怎么知道的呢?

“你很走运,”伯爵接着说,“有我在这儿帮你解决麻烦。你很走运,在你发疯一样把你的妻子当犯人关起来,不让她见哈尔库姆小姐的时候,我出来阻拦了你。你看不出来吗?哈尔库姆小姐具有男人一样的勇气和见识,我非常敬佩她!但是,她就像挡在我们和你那漂亮小妻子之间的一块巨石。现在说钱的问题。我们得到了一笔贷款——一笔代价极大的贷款——我们签了字,答应三个月后还钱。到时候,除了靠你妻子就没有任何办法还钱了吗?”

“没有。”

“你现在从你妻子那儿可以得到什么钱?”

“只有她那20,000英镑带来的收入。”

“你还能从你妻子身上得到更多的钱吗?”

“一分都没有——除非她死了”

“呵!除非她死了。”

谈话暂停了。天开始下雨,我感到身上又湿又冷。

珀西瓦尔爵士接着说:“如果她没留下孩子,我可以得到她那20,000英镑。”

“珀西瓦尔!你真的在乎你妻子吗?”

“福斯科!这个问题太直接了。”

“假如你妻子在夏末死去——”

“别说了,福斯科!”

“你会得到20,000英镑。”

“别光说我,还有你,福斯科。你也会受益,妻子死了,妻子口袋里就会装进10,000英镑。”

“珀西瓦尔,这就是现在的局面。如果你妻子活着,你需要得到她签字来还债;如果你妻子死了,你就用她的死来还债。”

福斯科夫人房间的烛光熄灭了,游廊顶上一团漆黑。雨还在下。我全神贯注地听着,把每个字都记在心里。

“珀西瓦尔,你现在必须把这件事交给我来办,我有两个多月的时间去想办法,现在咱们先不谈这个。让我来帮你解决另一个麻烦——那个好像和安妮·凯瑟里克这个名字有关的麻烦。”

“瞧,福斯科,我们或许是朋友,但我们都有各自的秘密。这件事与你无关。请你不要问我这件事。”

“我的朋友,我可以尊重你的秘密。我不问你的秘密是什么,但不管怎么说,我能帮你点儿什么吗?”

“假如找不到安妮·凯瑟里克,我就完了。她和她母亲都知道那个——那个秘密。那个秘密会毁了我,福斯科。安妮·凯瑟里克找过我妻子,我敢肯定她已经把秘密告诉我妻子了。”

“可是,作为你的妻子,保守这个秘密不也对她有好处吗?”

“如果她爱我,应该是这样的。但是,她爱上了一个她在我们结婚以前认识的人,一个叫沃尔特·哈特里特的绘画教师。是谁帮助安妮·凯瑟里克从精神病院逃走的?是哈特里特。又是谁在坎伯兰郡跟她见面?还是哈特里特。他知道这个秘密,我妻子也知道这个秘密。要是他们两个聚到一块儿,肯定利用这个秘密来对付我。”

“说的对,说的对,我明白了。哈特里特先生现在在哪儿?”

“在国外。他去美洲了。”

“那就不用担心了。他要是回来,我来对付他。你放心。不过我们还是要先找到安妮·凯瑟里克。她母亲呢?可信吗?”

“保守这个秘密对她有好处。”

“很好。不过我怎么才能认出安妮·凯瑟里克来?”

“这容易。她长得很像我妻子,只是脸色苍白,面容憔悴。”

我听见向后移动椅子的声响。伯爵站了起来,在屋里来回走动着,他显得非常惊讶。

alt

“什么!她跟你妻子有亲戚关系吗?”

“一点儿没有。”

“那就这么相像?我见到她会认出来的。”

“你到底在笑什么,福斯科?”

“只是一个想法,我的好朋友,一个想法而己。不过今晚就谈到这儿。你会还清债务,找到安妮·凯瑟里克的。我敢保证。你就放心吧,珀西瓦尔。”

谈话结束了。我听到书房的门关上了。我身上已经湿透,身体被冻得又僵又疼。起初整个人都动不了。我艰难地慢慢爬回我的窗边,爬进屋里。我跳到地板上时,听见钟响了,1点一刻。时间过得真快。我挣扎着起来,换上干衣服。我浑身发烫——同时也冷得打哆嗦。我明白我必须把听到的全都写下来,于是找出纸笔,开始不停地写起来。我烧得越来越厉害,浑身好像着了火。我打开窗户,让冷空气进来……

8点了。明媚的阳光使我的眼睛隐隐作痛。我头痛得非常厉害,全身酸痛,而且发烫,还不停地打哆嗦。我躺下睡觉,记录已经写完了。迷迷糊糊地,我看见福斯科伯爵进到我的房间,看了我写的东西。他笑了笑。我毫无办法——不能动,不能说话,不能呼吸……我陷入长长的昏迷,眼前一片黑暗……

8
Fever

While I lay unconscious in my illness, I knew nothing, of course, of the events happening around me. It was only much later that I learnt from other people what had happened.

When I eventually returned to Limmeridge, Fanny told me about the letters and the night she had left Blackwater.

'You left me at about seven, miss, and at nine o'clock I had another visitor — the Countess! Yes, I was so surprised. But she was very kind. She saw that I was upset at leaving and insisted on having some tea with me. So I drank my tea, and five minutes later I fainted — for the first time in my life! When I woke up, it was about half an hour later. A lady from the hotel was looking after me as the Countess had had to go home. I checked the letters in my dress, miss, and they were both there, quite safe.

'And just as you told me, in London I posted the letter to Mr Kyrle, and as soon as I got to Limmeridge, I delivered the other letter personally to Mr Fairlie. I told him all about being dismissed by Sir Percival and everything, and what had happened at the hotel, but, well, he didn't seem very interested, miss.'

That last piece of information did not surprise me in the least. Had Laura's uncle ever been interested in anybody except himself? When I went to talk to him, he was full of excuses.

'My nerves, dear Marian, remember my nerves! Yes, of course I will tell you about the letters, but please don't get excited and go around banging doors! Try to stay calm.'

'I suppose my letter about Laura upset you,' I said.

'Of course it did, dear Marian! What was I to do? You told me Laura needed to escape from her husband and to come to Limmeridge. But suppose Sir Percival had come after her? Think of the noise, the arguments, the banging of doors! That's why I wrote to you, to beg you to come here first by yourself, to talk the matter over with me.'

I never saw that letter, of course, as it arrived at Blackwater when I was unconscious with fever.

'And Mr Kyrle wrote to you as well, didn't he?' I said.

'Yes. He wrote to say he had received an envelope addressed to him in your handwriting, but which contained only a plain piece of paper without a word on it. He had written to you about it, and had received no reply. Why he expected me to explain this mystery, I had no idea. And that's what I told him.'

So helpful, I thought bitterly. But there was no point in saying anything. 'And were you surprised not to hear from me again?'

'Indeed I was, until my sister's foreign husband, that extraordinary Count Fosco, came to see me. Such a huge man!' said Mr Fairlie, his eyes closing at the memory. 'But surprisingly quiet on his feet. Anyway, he explained how ill you were, dear Marian, which was why you hadn't replied to my letter. I was extremely shocked and sorry to hear about your illness. But the Count did talk so much — I thought he would never leave!'

'And he persuaded you to write to Laura,' I said, trying to keep my voice calm and quiet.

'Yes, he urged me — in fact, practically ordered me — to invite Laura here at once. She was too nervous and upset to be of any use to you in the sick-room, he said, and the situation with Sir Percival was growing more dangerous every day. There was no trouble with the journey, because he and his wife had just rented a house in London. So Laura could travel up to London, stay the night with them, and travel on to Cumberland the next day.'

'So you wrote the letter and gave it to him,' I said.

'Where was the harm in it? In any case, I never for a moment thought that Laura would leave you alone when you were so ill. And how was I to know what shocking event was about to take place? No one could possibly say that I was to blame …'

*  *  *

I know now exactly who was to blame, but it took quite a time to put all the different pieces of information together. When I first began to be aware of my surroundings again during my recovery, I knew nothing, of course, about the letters. I knew only that I was not in my usual bedroom and there was a foreign lady looking after me. I had no idea who she was and she would not answer any of my questions. So I was very relieved a few days later when the familiar face of Mrs Michelson appeared.

'Oh, Mrs Michelson,' I said, 'I'm so glad to see you. Please tell me what's been happening.'

'You've had typhus fever, Miss Halcombe. You've been very ill. But you're getting stronger now, I'm happy to say.'

'Typhus! No wonder I feel so weak. And my sister, Lady Glyde — I do hope she didn't catch the infection?'

'No, no, she didn't.'

Mrs Michelson would not look me in the face, and I began to feel worried. Was she afraid to tell me something?

'Is my sister ill? Please, Mrs Michelson, I must know!'

'No, she's not ill. But... but she's not here. She went away yesterday to London, and is going on to Limmeridge today.'

I stared at her. Laura gone? I could not believe it. What did it mean? Had something terrible happened? I remembered the conversation I heard during the night on the verandah roof, and my heart filled with fear.

'And Sir Percival …?' I could not finish my question.

'Sir Percival left the house last night, to go abroad,' she said. 'The Count and Countess have gone to London, and the servants have all been dismissed, except for a cook and the gardener. You and I are the only people living in the house, Miss Halcombe.'

The shock of this news was so great that I felt faint. Mrs Michelson hurried to fetch me a glass of water.

'Oh, Miss Halcombe, I'm sorry,' she said. 'Try not to worry. You must rest now, and try to sleep a little.'

Later, when I felt stronger, we talked again. 'Tell me everything you can remember, from the day I fell ill,' I begged Mrs Michelson. 'I must know what happened.'

'Well, Miss Halcombe, on that first morning a servant found you, lying on your bed in a fever, holding a pen tightly in your hand. The doctor was called at once, a Mr Dawson, who said you were very ill. The Countess and I acted as your nurses — Lady Glyde wanted to help, but she was so upset at seeing you unconscious that she couldn't stop crying.

'Sir Percival and the Count were concerned about you too, though they seemed worried about something else as well. In fact, the Count spent three days down by the lake, at that old boat-house, and I remember he came in once when I was going through the hall. Sir Percival came rushing out of the library, saying, "Have you found her?" I didn't hear the answer and I have no idea who they were talking about.'

I had a very good idea who they were talking about, but it was obvious that Mrs Michelson didn't, so I said nothing.

'Your fever got worse,' Mrs Michelson went on. 'The Count said we needed a nurse to help us, so Madame Fosco took the train to London and came back with Mrs Rubelle.'

'Is that the foreign lady who was looking after me before you appeared, Mrs Michelson?' I asked.

'Yes, that's right. She didn't say very much, but she was a capable nurse. I had no complaints about her work. Mr Dawson, the doctor, was suspicious of her because she was recommended by the Count, and he didn't like the Count at all.'

'Why was that?' I asked.

'The Count had a lot of medical knowledge, you see, and he was always suggesting to Mr Dawson ways of reducing your fever. Mr Dawson called it interference and got quite angry about it. But in fact, miss, the Count recognized you had typhus fever before Mr Dawson did. He — the Count, that is — went away to London for a week, and when he came back, he took one look at you and said "Typhus". Mr Dawson sent to London for another doctor, who came and said the same thing. Then we had a very worrying ten days, when your life was in danger, but at last the doctor said you were through the worst and with good nursing care you would recover. Lady Glyde was so overcome by this happy news that she became ill herself and had to be put to bed.'

'My sister has always had delicate health,' I said.

'Yes, she's not strong. Anyway, Miss Halcombe, it was at this point that disturbing things started to happen. First, the Count and Mr Dawson argued again so fiercely that Mr Dawson left, saying he refused to offer his services any more. Next, Sir Percival told me that he was going to close the house. As soon as you and Lady Glyde were able to travel, he said, you would be going away for a change of air. He told me to dismiss all the servants, except a girl to do the cooking, and a gardener. Imagine! Just like that! I tell you, Miss Halcombe, if I hadn't felt so sorry for you and Lady Glyde, I would have resigned at once!

'The last thing was very strange indeed,' said Mrs Michelson, shaking her head. 'Sir Percival said that you and Lady Glyde would benefit from a stay at the seaside town of Torquay. He told me to go there to look for a suitable house to rent, and told me how much money I could pay. Well, I knew it wasn't enough, and I wish now that I hadn't gone, but he was my employer so I thought I had to obey his orders. I returned yesterday, after two days away, and told Sir Percival that it was impossible to find a house at such a low rent. Sir Percival showed no interest in my news at all. He just said that the Count and Countess had left Blackwater Park for their new house in London.'

Mrs Michelson looked at me anxiously. 'I think you'll find the next part of the story very upsetting,' she said. 'Poor Lady Glyde was cruelly deceived by her husband.'

'You don't surprise me,' I murmured. 'Please go on.'

'After seeing Sir Percival, I went upstairs to see you and Lady Glyde. Your sister, though still very weak, was feeling better and wanted to get up and go and visit you in your room. I helped her to dress and as we went down the passage, we met Sir Percival.

'"If you're going to see your sister, you won't find her," Sir Percival says. "She left the house yesterday with Fosco and his wife. She decided to go with them to London, on her way to Limmeridge. Mrs Rubelle went too, to look after her on the journey. You can look in her room if you don't believe me."

'I was shocked and amazed by this, and Lady Glyde's face went as white as a sheet. She almost ran down the passage and threw open the door to your room. It was empty.

'Then she cries out to Sir Percival, "Marian was much too ill to travel. Even if she did go, she would never leave without saying goodbye to me first. And why would she go to Limmeridge alone, leaving me here at Blackwater Park?"

'"Because your uncle won't receive you till he has seen your sister first," says Sir Percival. "Have you forgotten the letter he wrote to her at the beginning of her illness?"

'All through this interview, Miss Halcombe, I thought Sir Percival seemed very strange — jumpy and nervous, not at all his usual self. And now he just turned and walked away. Lady Glyde was shaking with fear, and looked at me with terror in her eyes. "Something's happened to my sister. I must follow her — I must see that she's alive and well with my own eyes. Please, Mrs Michelson, come down with me to Sir Percival. Stay with me, please!" She held my arm so tightly that I had to go with her.

'Sir Percival was in the dining room, drinking. He drank at least four glasses of wine while we were in there, Miss Halcombe. Lady Glyde was very brave, I thought. She said, "If my sister is well enough to travel, then so am I. Please allow me to follow her at once by the afternoon train."

'Sir Percival was so rude and rough with her. "You can go tomorrow," he said. "I'll write to Fosco. He can meet you at the station and you'll stay at his house overnight."

'Lady Glyde's hand began to tremble violently on my arm. "I would rather not stay at the Count's house," she said.

'Sir Percival then got very angry. "Why not?" he shouted." What's wrong with sleeping at your aunt's house? Your sister slept there last night to break her journey, and so will you. That's what your uncle, Mr Fairlie, wants you to do as well. Here — there's a letter from him. I forgot to send it up to you."

'Poor Lady Glyde was shaking so much that she gave me the letter to read to her. It was very short. I remember it, word for word: Dear Laura, please come whenever you like. Break the journey by sleeping at your aunt's house. Sorry to hear of Marian's illness. Your fond uncle, Frederick Fairlie.

'Lady Glyde didn't try to argue any more, and we went back upstairs. It seemed quite a sensible plan to me, Miss Halcombe, and I couldn't understand why Lady Glyde was so terrified of Count Fosco. She walked up and down her room, whispering, "Poor Marian — in that horrible man's power! I must find her, even if I have to follow her to Count Fosco's house."

'The next day I helped Lady Glyde get ready and went with her to the station. "If Marian has already left for Limmeridge, I won't stay at the Count's house," she told me. "I'll go and stay with Mrs Vesey, my old governess." As the train pulled away, I saw her pale, frightened face at the window. I felt so sad for her.

'Then I came back here. Imagine my surprise, Miss Halcombe, when I saw Mrs Rubelle walking in the garden! "What are you doing here?" I said. "You went to London with the Foscos and Miss Halcombe!" And then it all came out. You were still in the house. While I was out of the way in Torquay, they moved you to a room in an unused part of the house and kept you hidden. You must have been in a very deep sleep when they moved you. Perhaps they drugged you — I don't know. Then Sir Percival appeared and gave me this explanation. It was all for his wife's own good, he said. She needed a change of air, and would not have gone to Limmeridge if she had known that you were still in the house. He spoke in such a violent, angry way that I did not dare to express my opinion.

'So you see, Miss Halcombe, that was how poor Lady Glyde was deceived. It was wicked and cruel. I would have resigned my position immediately, but Sir Percival told me that Mrs Rubelle was leaving and there would be no one to look after you if I left too. So, naturally, I stayed. Sir Percival left last night, as I told you. The gardener said he seemed half mad. He called for his carriage, and drove away like an escaped criminal, saying his house was a prison and he would never return to it. I hope and pray, Miss Halcombe, that I never see that man again.'

Poor Laura — how she must have suffered! There was nothing I could do. I could not go after her as I was too weak even to stand. I hoped desperately that she had found out about the deception and would write soon to tell me that she was safe.

*  *  *

A letter came a few days later, but it was not for me, and not from Laura. It was for Mrs Michelson from Madame Fosco.

Mrs Michelson came into my room with the letter in her hand. Mr Dawson, who had agreed to be my doctor again now that the Count had gone, was behind her. I took one look at both their faces, and sat up in bed, terrified.

'What is it?' I gasped. 'You have some dreadful news for me. I can see it in your faces.'

Mrs Michelson sat down on the edge of the bed and took my hand. 'Your poor, dear sister, Lady Glyde...' she began.

The room began to darken around me, as though night was falling, and the words seemed to come from a great distance.

'... was taken seriously ill when she arrived at her aunt's house in London, and died the next day, very suddenly. She is to be buried at Limmeridge, in her mother's grave.'

*  *  *

Kind Mrs Michelson nursed me through my second illness, with Mr Dawson's help. I was not able to travel for more than three weeks, but eventually I found the strength to leave that hated house and return to Limmeridge. Mrs Michelson and I travelled together to London, where I went to see Mr Kyrle. To him I revealed the terrible suspicions in my mind about the circumstances of my sister's death. He was most concerned and promised to make enquiries for me.

I went on to Limmeridge House and a few days later Mr Kyrle wrote to me there. He had taken statements from several witnesses, he said, and was convinced that nothing suspicious had happened. He sent copies of the statements for my information. This was the one by the Count's cook, Mrs Hester Pinhorn:


I was recently employed as a cook by the Count and Countess Fosco at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. One day near the end of July, the Countess's niece, Lady Glyde, arrived at the house. She immediately fell ill. I saw her lying on the sofa, her face all white. I ran out for a doctor and came back with Mr Goodricke. He examined her and said she had a very serious heart disease. During the night she got worse. Then, at about five o'clock the next day, she lost consciousness. The doctor went in and, after putting his hand on her heart, announced that she was dead. He said that, as the Count was a foreigner, he himself would go to record the death at the district office. The Count and Countess were very badly affected by the lady's death. The lady's husband was abroad, so they arranged the funeral themselves, which took place in Cumberland.


I was still very weak from my long illness, and despair nearly overtook me at this point. I had no friend to turn to, and no idea what to do next. I went every day to the churchyard, to put flowers on the grave and to read again those sad, sad words.


In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde

Wife of Sir Percival Glyde, of Blackwater Park, Hampshire

Born 27th March 1829

Died 25th July 1850


personally adv. in person 亲自

practically adv. almost 几乎

rent v. use at a rent

typhus n. a serious infectious disease 斑疹伤寒

catch the infection be affected by the infectious disease 被传染

be through have passed 度过

fiercely adv. violently 激烈地

obey v. carry out a command 服从

jumpy adj. making sudden movements 躁动的

pull away (of a train ) leave (火车)离开;开走

drug v. to give someone a drug, esp in order to make them feel tired or go to sleep 用药麻醉

for one's good for one's interest 为了……的利益;为了……好

be convinced be certain that something is true 确信

announce v. make publicly known 宣布

overtake v. overwhelm 击垮

8.高烧

我在床上昏睡着,对周围发生了什么当然一无所知。很长时间以后,我才从别人那里得知出了什么事。

后来,我回到利默里奇,范妮告诉我那两封信的事以及她离开布莱克沃特那天晚上发生的事情。

“你从我那儿走的时候是7点钟,9点钟又来了一位客人——是伯爵夫人!没错,我非常吃惊。但她特别和善。她看出我在为离开而难过,就坚持要和我喝茶。我喝了茶,5分钟后就晕过去了——这可是我头一回晕过去!我醒的时候已经过了大约半小时。旅店的一位女士在照看我,伯爵夫人已经回去了。我检查衣服里的信,两封信都在,很安全。

“我照你说的,在伦敦把给克尔先生的信寄了出去,一到利默里奇,就把另一封信亲自交给了费尔利先生。我告诉他,我被珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了,还有在那边发生了什么以及旅店的事情,但是他好像对这些都没什么兴趣,小姐。”

对最后一点,我丝毫不觉得奇怪。劳拉的这个叔叔,除了对他自己的事还对什么有兴趣?我去找他谈的时候,他满嘴借口。

“我的神经,亲爱的玛丽安,别忘了我的神经不好!是的,我当然会告诉你信的事,可是请你不要激动,不要总那么使劲儿关门!请你保持冷静。”

“我想我写给你关于劳拉的信让你担心了吧。”我说。

“当然让我担心了,亲爱的玛丽安!我该怎么做呢?你说劳拉需要逃离她丈夫,回到利默里奇来。但是,如果珀西瓦尔爵士随后过来找她怎么办?想想那会有多少噪音、吵闹、摔门声!这就是我为什么给你写信,叫你自己先回来,跟我谈谈这件事。”

我当然没见过那封信,因为信到布莱克沃特的时候,我正发着高烧,昏睡不醒。

“克尔先生也给你写信了,是吗?”我问。

“是的,他写信给我说,他收到一个署名给他的信封,是你的笔迹,但是里面只有一张白纸,一个字也没有。他给你写过信,但没收到回音。我不明白他为什么叫解释这个迷,我就这么跟他说的。”

真是挺帮忙的,我心里恨恨地想。现在说什么也没用了。“再没接到我的来信,你不感到奇怪吗?”

“我的确感到奇怪,直到我的那个外国妹夫,福斯科伯爵过来看我,我才明白发生了什么。他可真胖!”费尔利先生闭上眼睛,陷入回忆之中,“但是他走路却很轻。他告诉我你病得非常厉害,所以没有回信。听说你生病我非常震惊,也很难过。可是,伯爵没完没了地跟我说话——我简直觉得他不想走了!”

“是他让你给劳拉写信的吧。”我尽量用平和的语气说。

“是的,他请求我——实际上是命令我——让劳拉马上回到这儿来。他说劳拉非常紧张害怕,在你的房间里也帮不了什么忙。而且珀西瓦尔爵士一天比一天危险。旅途中不会有问题,因为他和妻子刚刚在伦敦租了一栋房子,劳拉可以先到伦敦,在他们那里住一晚,第二天再赶往坎伯兰郡。”

“所以,你就写了那封信,让他拿走了?”我问。

“这有什么不好吗?不管怎样,我根本不相信劳拉会在你病重的时候丢下你不管。而且我怎么知道将要发生什么事?谁也不能把事情怪到我头上……”

*  *  *

现在我知道究竟是谁在搞鬼了,但是把各种消息都串起来颇费了一些时间。我刚从昏迷中醒来,注意到周围的时候,对信的事自然一无所知。我只知道自己不在原来的卧室,一位外国女士在旁边照顾我。我不知道她是谁,她也不回答我的任何问题。因此,几天后当米切尔森太太熟悉的脸出现在我面前时,我大大地松了一口气。

“噢,米切尔森太太,”我说,“见到你真是太高兴了。快告诉我到底发生了什么?”

“你得了斑疹伤寒,哈尔库姆小姐。你病得很厉害。不过,我很高兴你现在恢复得很好。”

“斑疹伤寒!怪不得我这么虚弱。我妹妹,格莱德夫人——我希望她没被传染吧?”

“没有,她没有被传染。”

米切尔森太太不敢正眼看我,我开始担心起来,她是不是害怕告诉我什么事情?

“我妹妹病了吗?米切尔森太太,我必须知道真相!”

“没有,她没病。不过……不过她已经不在这儿了。她昨天去了伦敦,准备今天去利默里奇。”

我盯着她。劳拉走了?我不信。这说明什么呢?出了可怕的事?我记起了在游廊顶上听到的谈话,心里充满了恐惧。

“那珀西瓦尔爵士……?”我无法把话讲完。

“珀西瓦尔爵士昨晚离开庄园,到国外去了,”她说,“伯爵夫妇去了伦敦,仆人们全都遣散了,就剩下一个厨师和一个园丁。庄园里只有你和我了,哈尔库姆小姐。”

这个消息对我的震动太大,我感到一阵眩晕,米切尔森太太赶忙去为我拿了杯水来。

“哦,哈尔库姆小姐,真抱歉,”米切尔森太太说,“你别担心,一定要好好休息,试着睡一会儿吧。”

后来,我身上有些力气了,我们又聊起来。“告诉我,自从我生病那天起都发生了什么?”我恳求米切尔森太太,“我一定要知道出了什么事。”

“好吧,哈尔库姆小姐。头一天早上,一个仆人发现你躺在床上,发着高烧,手里还紧紧握着钢笔。我们很快叫来了一位医生,道森先生。他说你病得很厉害。伯爵夫人和我一起照顾你——格莱德夫人也想帮忙,但是看到你昏迷的样子,她很难过,不住地哭。

“珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵也都为你担心,不过他们两人好像还在为别的事担心。实际上,伯爵在湖边呆了三天,就在那个老船屋里。我记得他有一次回来,我正路过大厅。这时,珀西瓦尔爵士从书房冲出来问他:‘找到她了吗?’我没听到回答,也不知道他们说的是谁。”

我非常清楚他们说的是谁,明显米切尔森太太不知道,所以我没有说话。

“你烧得越来越厉害,”米切尔森太太接着说,“伯爵说我们需要找一个护士帮忙,于是福斯科夫人坐火车去了伦敦,带回了鲁贝尔太太。”

“就是那位在你来之前照顾我的外国女士吗,米切尔森太太?”

“对,就是她。她很少说话,但很能干。我对她干活儿挑不出任何毛病。道森先生,那位医生,对她有怀疑,因为她是伯爵推荐的,而道森先生一点儿也不喜欢伯爵。”

“为什么呢?”我问。

“你知道伯爵懂得许多医学知识,他不断地向道森先生提出给你退烧的办法。道森先生非常生气,说这是干涉他的工作。但实际上,小姐,伯爵比道森先生更早地看出你得了斑疹伤寒。他——我是说伯爵——到伦敦去了一星期,回来后看了你一眼就说是‘斑疹伤寒’。道森先生从伦敦又请来一位医生,也说是斑疹伤寒。接下来的十天我们大家都非常担心,你当时有生命危险。不过最后,医生说你已经度过了危险期,只要得到精心照顾,就会好起来。听到这个好消息,格莱德夫人过于高兴,结果她自己病倒了,不得不卧床休息。”

“我妹妹的身体一直很弱。”我说。

“是的,她的身体不太好。不过,哈尔库姆小姐,就在这个时候,令人心烦的事接二连三地发生了。先是伯爵和道森先生大吵了一架,道森先生走了,他说不愿意再干了。然后,珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我他准备关闭庄园。他说等你和格莱德夫人能出门旅行了,就应该离开这里,换换环境。他让我辞退了所有的仆人,只留下一个女仆做饭,还有一个园丁。真是难以想象!就是这样!我跟你说,哈尔库姆小姐,要不是担心你和格莱德夫人,我当时马上就不干了!

“最后一件事非常奇怪,”米切尔森太太摇摇头接着说,“珀西瓦尔爵士说,你和格莱德夫人到海滨小城托基呆一段时间会对你们有好处。他叫我去那里找一栋合适的房子租下来,还告诉我只能花多少钱。唉,我知道钱不够。我现在真希望没去那个地方,但他是东家,我想我不能不听他的吩咐。我走了两天,昨天回来的。我告诉珀西瓦尔爵士用那么少的钱根本不可能租到房子。他对我的回复一点儿也不感兴趣,只是说伯爵夫妇已经离开布莱克沃特,去伦敦的新居了。”

米切尔森太太不安地看着我。“我想下面的事情一定会让你难过,”她说,“可怜的格莱德夫人让她丈夫骗惨了。”

“我不会感到惊讶的,”我轻声说,“请接着讲。”

“见过了珀西瓦尔爵士,我上楼去看你和格莱德夫人。你妹妹虽说还很虚弱,但已经好多了。她要起来到你的房间看你。我帮她穿好衣服。在走廊里我们碰到了珀西瓦尔爵士。

“‘如果你是去看你的姐姐,你不会找到她了,’珀西瓦尔爵士说,‘她昨天同福斯科夫妇离开了这里。她决定跟他们顺路到伦敦,然后去利默里奇。鲁贝尔太太也走了,她要在路上照看你姐姐。你要是不信我的话,可以到她的房间看看。’

“听到这些,我大吃一惊。格莱德夫人的脸变得煞白。她几乎在走廊里跑起来,一把推开你的房门,里面空无一人。

“然后她冲着珀西瓦尔爵士叫起来:‘玛丽安病得那么厉害,根本不能旅行。即使要去的话,她也不会不跟我道别就走。为什么她要一个人去利默里奇,把我留在布莱克沃特?’

“‘因为你叔叔要先跟你姐姐见面,再见你,’珀西瓦尔爵士说,‘难道你忘了在你姐姐刚病的时候,他写来的信了吗?’

“整个谈话中,哈尔库姆小姐,我觉得珀西瓦尔爵士显得很怪——又烦躁,又紧张,跟平时的他一点儿也不一样。说完,他就转身走开了。格莱德夫人害怕得直哆嗦,她看着我,眼睛里充满了恐惧。‘我姐姐出事了。我必须去找她,我必须亲眼看到她平安无事。米切尔森太太,请和我一起去找珀西瓦尔爵士。请陪我去!’她紧紧地抓着我的胳膊,我只好跟她一起下楼。

“珀西瓦尔爵士在餐厅喝酒,我们在的那一会儿,他就至少喝了四杯,哈尔库姆小姐。我觉得格莱德夫人很勇敢。她说:‘如果姐姐可以旅行,那我也可以。请允许我乘下午的火车去追她。’

“珀西瓦尔爵士对她非常无理、粗暴。‘你可以明天去,’他说,‘我会给福斯科写信。他会到车站接你,你晚上就住他那里。’

“格莱德夫人扶着我胳膊的手开始抖得很厉害。‘我不想住在伯爵家。’她说。

“珀西瓦尔爵士发怒了。‘为什么?’他大声嚷道,‘在你姑妈家过夜有什么不好?你姐姐昨天途中就是在那里过夜的,你也一样。这也是你叔叔费尔利先生的要求。给——这是他的信,我忘了给你了。’

“可怜的格莱德夫人哆嗦得很厉害,她把信交给我,让我念给她听。信很短,我还一字不差地记着:亲爱的劳拉,请在方便的时候回来。途中在姑妈家过夜。听说玛丽安病了,我非常难过。爱你的叔叔,弗雷德里克·费尔利。

“格莱德夫人没有再继续争下去,我们两人回到楼上。我觉得这样做很明智,哈尔库姆小姐,我不明白格莱德夫人为什么那么害怕福斯科伯爵。她在房间里走来走去,轻声自言自语:‘可怜的玛丽安——落到那个可怕的人手里!我一定要找到她,哪怕是到福斯科伯爵家里也要找到她。’

“第二天,我帮格莱德夫人准备好一切,陪她来到车站。‘如果玛丽安已经回利默里奇了,我就不住在伯爵家,’她告诉我,‘我会去找维西夫人,我原来的家庭教师。”火车开的时候,透过车窗我看到她苍白、恐慌的脸。我很为她难过。

“然后我回到这儿,竟然看到鲁贝尔太太在花园散步,哈尔库姆小姐,你知道我有多么惊讶!‘怎么在这儿?’我问,‘你不是和福斯科伯爵一家还有哈尔库姆小姐去伦敦了嘛!’后来事情慢慢都清楚了。你还在庄园。趁我去托基的时候,他们把你搬到了庄园里一个没人住的房间藏起来了。他们搬动你的时候,你肯定在昏睡。也许他们给你吃了药——我不清楚。这时,珀西瓦尔爵士过来给了我如下的解释。他说这一切都是为了他妻子好,她需要换个环境,假如她知道你还在庄园,是不会去利默里奇的。他说话时怒气冲冲的,我没敢说什么。

“你看,哈尔库姆小姐,这就是可怜的格莱德夫人受骗的经过。多么恶毒、多么不近人情。我本来要马上辞职的,但是珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我,鲁贝尔太太要走了,要是我也走的话,就没人照顾你了。这不,我就又留了下来。珀西瓦尔爵士是昨晚离开的,我刚才告诉过你。听园丁说,他跟疯了似的。他吩咐准备马车,然后仿佛落荒而逃的囚犯般驾车走了,嘴里还说什么这个家像个监狱,他再也不想回来了。我真的希望,哈尔库姆小姐,我再也不会见到那个人了。”

可怜的劳拉——她肯定受了很多罪!我现在一点儿办法也没有,也无法去追她,我现在虚弱得站都站不起来。我真的希望劳拉能够发现这个骗局,尽快地给我写信,告诉我她平安无事。

*  *  *

几天后来了一封信,但不是给我的,也不是劳拉写来的,而是福斯科夫人写给米切尔森太太的。

米切尔森太太拿着那封信走进我的房间,后面跟着道森先生,他同意继续为我看病,因为伯爵已经走了。我看到他们两人的神色,从床上坐起来,心里很害怕。

“出了什么事?”我急切地问,“你们有可怕的消息要告诉我。我从你们的脸上能看出来。”

米切尔森太太在我的床边坐下,握住我的手。“你那可怜的、亲爱的妹妹,格莱德夫人……”她说。

我的周围变得一团漆黑,就像夜色降临一样,下面的话似乎是从很遥远的地方传来的。

“……她到伦敦的姑妈家以后就病倒了,第二天就死了,死得非常突然。她将被安葬在利默里奇,她母亲的墓地。”

*  *  *

我又病倒了,好心的米切尔森太太在道森先生的帮助下精心地照顾我。三个多星期的时间里,我都无法出门旅行。但我终于恢复了体力,离开了那个令人憎恨的庄园,回到利默里奇。米切尔森太太和我一同来到伦敦,我去见了克尔先生,向他讲述了我心中对妹妹死因的怀疑。他对这件事很关心,答应为我调查。

我到利默里奇几天后,克尔先生的信也寄到了那里。他从几个证人那里获得了证词,他相信没有任何可疑的事发生。他把证词的副本寄给了我。下面是福斯科的厨师赫斯特·平霍恩太太的笔录:


我是最近受雇于福斯科伯爵夫妇的,他们住在圣约翰伍德,弗雷斯特街5号。快7月底的一天,伯爵夫人的侄女,格莱德夫人来到伯爵家。她很快就病了。我看见她躺在沙发上,脸色苍白。我跑去叫医生,找来了古德里克先生。他给她做了检查,说她得了严重的心脏病。当天夜里,她病情加重。大约第二天早上5点,她失去了知觉。医生进来,用手摸了摸她的胸口,说她已经死了。医生说,因为伯爵是外国人,所以他得亲自到地区办公室报告人口死亡。福斯科伯爵夫妇对格莱德夫人的死非常伤心。格莱德夫人的丈夫在国外,因此他们安排了葬礼的有关事宜,葬礼安排在坎伯兰郡举行。


由于长时间生病,我现在还非常虚弱,此时绝望几乎将我击垮。我找不到什么朋友可以倾诉,茫然不知下面该如何是好。每天我都去教堂墓地,去给劳拉的墓献花,一遍又一遍地读着那些令我心碎的文字。


爱妻劳拉·格莱德之墓

生于1829年3月27日

卒于1850年7月25日

汉普郡布莱克沃特庄园

珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士立

6.An appointment by the lake

PART TWO
THE STORY TOLD BY MARIAN HALCOMBE
第二部分 玛丽安·哈尔库姆的讲述

4
Arrangements for a marriage

It was a sad day when Walter Hartright left us. Laura stayed in her room all day, and I felt sad and depressed. Poor Mr Gilmore must have had a dull time, and the next morning, when Laura reappeared looking pale and ill, I thought he seemed rather anxious about her. I was anxious too. Laura is such a sensitive and loving person that it was no surprise to me to find that she had grown fond of Walter. Indeed, I have grown fond of him myself. But I honestly believe that time will cure Laura of these feelings.

Two days after Walter left, Sir Percival Glyde arrived. He is forty-five years old but seems younger. He is handsome, and only a little bald, has perfect manners, and is pleasant, agreeable, and respectful. I really must try to like him.

In the afternoon, while Laura was out of the room, Sir Percival referred to Anne Catherick's letter.

'I read Mr Gilmore's letter to my lawyer,' he said, 'and I want to give you a full explanation. Mrs Catherick, you see, worked for me and my family for many years. Her marriage was unfortunate, in that her husband deserted her, and her only child, a girl, became mentally ill and needed to be put in an asylum. So, in recognition of Mrs Catherick's services, I agreed to pay the expenses of a private asylum for the girl. Unfortunately, the girl discovered this and consequently developed a hatred for me. She recently escaped from the asylum and I'm sure she wrote this letter because of her hatred for me. It's all very sad.'

Mr Gilmore found this explanation perfectly satisfactory, and said so. He then looked at me for agreement, but I was struggling with a sense of unease that I could not explain, and hesitated before answering. Sir Percival noticed this at once.

'May I beg you, Miss Halcombe,' he said politely, 'to write to Mrs Catherick to ask if these facts are true?'

I did not want to agree to this, but how could I refuse, without making the situation even more embarrassing than it already was? So I went to the desk, wrote a note, and gave it to him. Without looking at it, he put it in an envelope and wrote the address.

'Now that is done,' he said, 'may I ask if Anne Catherick spoke to Miss Fairlie, or to you?'

'No. She spoke to nobody except Mr Hartright,' I replied.

'Ah, yes, the drawing teacher,' he said thoughtfully. 'And did you discover where Anne Catherick was staying?'

I described the farm to him.

'It is my duty to try to find her,' he continued. 'Tomorrow I will go to this farm and make enquiries.' Soon afterwards he left to go up to his room.

*  *  *

That evening and the next day Sir Percival took every opportunity to bring Laura into the conversation, but she hardly took any notice. He went to the farm to make his enquiries about Anne Catherick, but learnt nothing. Then on Wednesday a letter came from Mrs Catherick — a short, business-like letter, thanking me for my note and saying that everything Sir Percival had told me was completely correct.

Why did I still have doubts? This, surely, was enough proof for anyone, but how I wished that Walter Hartright had been there to give his opinion! At Sir Percival's request I now had to give Laura his explanation of Anne Catherick's letter. She listened quietly and showed no emotion, but I noticed that on the table near her hand was the little book of Hartright's drawings. I also had to tell her that the reason for Sir Percival's visit was to fix the day of their marriage.

'I'm afraid he will ask you to decide quite soon, Laura.'

'Oh no, Marian! I can't do that!' she said. 'Please ask him, beg him, to allow me more time. I promise to give him a final answer before the end of the year, but not yet, please, not yet.'

Sir Percival agreed to this request, and when Mr Gilmore heard about it, he arranged to have a private talk with Laura.

'I have to return to London tomorrow,' he said to me, 'and I need to discuss the financial side of this marriage with Miss Fairlie before I go. As you know, she will inherit a great deal of money and property when she becomes twenty-one next March, and I must include all this in the marriage agreement in a way that reflects Miss Fairlie's own wishes, and is also acceptable to Sir Percival.'

He had the meeting with Laura the next morning, and in the afternoon he left for London, looking rather sad and thoughtful. Wondering what had been said, I hurried up to Laura's room.

'Oh, Marian, come in,' she said. 'I need to talk to you.'

'What is it, Laura? Is it about the marriage agreement?'

'No. I couldn't even bear to discuss that with Mr Gilmore. I'm ashamed to say that all I could do was cry. He was very kind and good, Marian, and he said that he would look after everything for me. No, what I wanted to tell you was this. I cannot bear the situation any longer. I must end it.'

Her eyes were bright and she spoke with great energy. I began to feel alarmed. 'What do you wish to do, Laura darling? Do you want to be released from your promise to marry Sir Percival?'

'No,' she said simply. 'I cannot break my promise to my father. But I want to tell the truth, and I will confess to Sir Percival that I love someone else.'

'Laura! He has no right to know that!' I said in amazement.

'I cannot deceive him,' she said. 'I have thought it over carefully. After I have told him, let him do as he wishes.'

I looked into her innocent, loving eyes and could say nothing. I just put my arms around her, trying not to cry myself.

'May I speak to him tomorrow, in your presence, Marian?'

I held her tight and agreed — though I was not sure I was doing the right thing. Indeed, I was not sure of anything. I could not understand how I had failed to see how deeply she loved Walter Hartright. For the first time in my life I had made a mistake about her. Now I realized that she would love him all her life.

*  *  *

The first thing that happened the next morning did nothing to make me feel more cheerful. A letter arrived for me from poor Walter Hartright. He had decided to leave England and asked me if I could help him find employment abroad. I was then alarmed to read that since his return to London he had neither seen nor heard anything of Anne Catherick, but suspected he had been watched and followed by strange men. I was worried about his state of mind, so I immediately wrote to some friends in London to ask if they could help him find a suitable job in another country. Laura, of course, knew nothing about these letters.

Sir Percival did not join us for breakfast, but sent a message, saying he would meet us at eleven o'clock, as arranged. Laura seemed calm and unusually self-controlled. I had never seen her like this. It was almost as if love had created a new force in her character.

At exactly eleven Sir Percival knocked and entered, with anxiety and worry in every line of his face. This meeting would decide his future life, and he obviously knew it.

'You may wonder, Sir Percival,' said Laura calmly, 'if I am going to ask to be released from my promise to marry you. I am not going to ask this. I respect my father's wishes too much.'

His face relaxed a little, but I saw one of his feet nervously beating the carpet.

'No, if we are going to withdraw from our planned marriage, it will be because of your wish, Sir Percival, not mine.'

'Mine?' he said in great surprise. 'What reason could I have for withdrawing?'

'A reason that is very hard to tell you,' she answered. 'There is a change in me.'

His face went so pale that even his lips lost their colour. He turned his head to one side.

'What change?' he asked, trying to hide his nervousness.

'When the promise was made two years ago,' she said, 'my love did not belong to anyone. Will you forgive me, Sir Percival, if I tell you that it now belongs to another person?'

Her tears started to fall, and Sir Percival hid his face behind his hand, so that it was impossible to know what he was thinking. He made no answer, and my temper got the better of me.

'Sir Percival!' I said sharply. 'Have you nothing to say? You have already heard more than you have a right to hear.'

'But I didn't ask for that right,' he said, avoiding my question.

'I wish you to understand,' Laura continued, 'that I will never see this person again, and that if you leave me, you only allow me to remain a single woman for the rest of my life. All I ask is that you forgive me and keep my secret.'

'I will do both those things,' he said. Then he looked at Laura, as if he was waiting to hear more.

'I think I have said enough to give you reason to withdraw from our marriage,' she added quietly.

'No. You have said enough to make it the dearest wish of my life to marry you,' he said, getting up and advancing towards her.

Laura gave a cry of surprise, but I had more than half expected this. Every word she had spoken had shown her honesty and her innocence, but these fine qualities had destroyed her own hopes of a release. Sir Percival understood very well the priceless value of a pure and true woman. Why would he give her up now?

'I will do everything I can to earn your love,' he said, 'and perhaps in time I will win it.'

'Never!' she answered, looking more beautiful than ever. 'I will be your true and loyal wife, but never your loving wife.'

'That is enough for me. I accept your loyalty and your truth,' he said, then raised her hand to his lips and silently left the room.

Laura sat without moving. I put my arm around her. At last she said,' I must resign myself, Marian. If you write to Walter, don't tell him how unhappy I am. And if I die first, please say to him, say what I could never say myself — say I loved him!'

Then she threw herself on the sofa and cried as if her heart was breaking, until at last she fell asleep.

*  *  *

In the days that followed it seemed that nothing could prevent this miserable marriage from taking place. I tried to make Laura change her mind, but she was determined to keep her promise, and to do her duty. Mr Fairlie was, of course, very happy that the 'family worry' was now at an end and suggested that the sooner his niece got married the better. This made me very angry, but when I told Laura, I was surprised by her calm reply.

'My uncle is right. I have caused trouble and anxiety to everyone. Let Sir Percival decide on the day for our marriage.'

Sir Percival was delighted by this news, and he then left to prepare for the bride's reception at his house in Hampshire.

I thought that a change would do Laura good, so I arranged for us both to go and stay with some friends in Yorkshire. She passively agreed with my idea. I also wrote to Mr Gilmore, telling him this marriage would now take place.

The next day I received a letter from Walter Hartright, saying that my friends had got him a job on an expedition to Central America. He was going to be the artist for the expedition. He was leaving on 21st November and would be away for six months. I could only hope that this was for the best.

Laura and I then departed for Yorkshire but after only nine days there we received a letter from Mr Fairlie, calling us back to Limmeridge immediately. What could this mean, I wondered?

I found out as soon as we arrived. Mr Fairlie and Sir Percival had agreed on 22nd December for the wedding, provided that Laura also agreed. Would I please persuade her, said Mr Fairlie. His nerves were much too bad to talk to her himself.

I also found our old friend Mr Gilmore, who had come to talk to Mr Fairlie about the marriage agreement. He was leaving that day, and was anxious to speak to me alone before he left.

'I am not at all happy about the financial arrangements in the agreement, Miss Halcombe,' he said, 'but there is nothing I can do about it. I know how fond you are of your sister and I think you ought to know why I am concerned.

'As you will know,' he went on, 'there are three parts to Miss Fairlie's inheritance. Firstly, on Mr Fairlie's death, she will inherit the Limmeridge property and land, and the income from it. If she dies childless, this property will go to a cousin, but the income from it will go to her husband during his lifetime. If she has a son, everything — property and income — will go to the son. No problems there.

'Secondly, when Miss Fairlie reaches the age of twenty-one next March, she will receive the income from £10,000. This £10,000 will go to her aunt Eleanor, if Miss Fairlie dies before her aunt — which is not very likely. The reason Miss Fairlie's father did not leave the £10,000 to his sister Eleanor on his death was that he disapproved strongly of her marriage to a foreigner, even though the man was an Italian nobleman, Count Fosco.'

'Yes, Laura has told me about that,' I said.

'Well,' Mr Gilmore went on, 'there are no problems there either. But the third part of Miss Fairlie's inheritance is more difficult. Next March she will also inherit £20,000, which will be her own money completely. If she dies before her husband, the income from the £20,000 will go to Sir Percival for his lifetime, and the capital will go to their children. If there are no children to inherit the capital, Miss Fairlie can choose relations and friends to inherit the money when she dies. That's what I proposed, but Sir Percival's lawyer did not accept it. He insists that if Sir Percival survives his wife and there are no children, Sir Percival should receive the capital. In that case, nothing will go to any other member of the family, including you, Miss Halcombe.'

Mr Gilmore sighed deeply. 'I protested strongly. I tried every argument I could, but nothing would change the lawyer's mind. I've discovered, you see, that Sir Percival is always in debt and always in need of cash. My last effort has been to come here, to try and persuade Mr Fairlie to oppose this demand from Sir Percival's lawyer. I am sorry to say I have not succeeded. Mr Fairlie wishes to avoid all responsibility for his niece's marriage arrangements. He says that his niece will not die before Sir Percival anyway, so what is there to worry about?'

Mr Gilmore stood up to go and picked up his hat. 'I shall complete the agreement and send it in. I have no choice. If I don't do it, Mr Fairlie will find another lawyer who will. But I tell you, Miss Halcombe, no daughter of mine should be married to any man alive under such an agreement as I am forced to make for Miss Fairlie.'

With that, he shook my hand, and without another word he went away to catch his train back to London.

After he had gone, I tried to be sensible. Mr Fairlie was Laura's guardian and if he chose to accept this agreement, there was nothing I could do about it. It was just one more worry about this dreadful marriage. A more immediate worry was the date of the wedding. When I told Laura, she turned pale and trembled.

'Not so soon!' she cried. 'Oh, Marian, not so soon!'

'Well, let me speak to Mr Fairlie, then,' I said, ready to fight for her. 'I will try to change it.'

'No,' she said faintly. 'Too late, Marian, too late! It will only make more trouble. Please tell my uncle I agree.'

I think I would have cried if I had not been so angry. I rushed into Mr Fairlie's room and shouted loudly, 'Laura agrees to the twenty-second' — and rushed out again, banging the door noisily. I hoped I had destroyed his nerves for the whole day.

*  *  *

After this the wedding preparations began. The dressmakers came and went all the time; there was packing, and planning, and all kinds of arrangements to make. We heard every day from Sir Percival. After the wedding he proposed to take Laura to Italy for six months. They would meet a number of Sir Percival's friends there, including his best and oldest friend, Count Fosco, whose wife, of course, was Laura's Aunt Eleanor. At least this marriage would bring Laura and her aunt together again, I thought. The Count himself sounded a most interesting person, and I rather hoped that I would meet him one day.

All too quickly the days passed. Sir Percival arrived, looking a little tired and anxious but talking and laughing like the happiest of men. The evening after he arrived he went off to the village to ask if anyone had any news of Anne Catherick. No one had heard anything, but I had to admit that it was good of him to continue to try to help her. I have decided to try and think better of him. After all, what reason do I have to distrust him? I am sure that I could like him if I really tried.

It is getting quite easy to like him. Today I spoke to him about the dearest wish of both Laura and myself — that I should be able to live with Laura after her marriage, just as I had always lived with her before. He agreed instantly and seemed delighted with the plan. I would be the ideal, the perfect companion for his wife, he said. Yes, I am beginning to like Sir Percival very much.

*  *  *

I hate Sir Percival! He has no sensitivity, no kindness, no good feeling. Last night he whispered something in Laura's ear — she has refused to tell me what it was — and her face turned white with misery. He took no notice at all, and all my suspicions of him have returned. Is he now showing his true character? He seems more restless and nervous than before, and is often sharp and bad-tempered. I have this strange idea that something might happen to prevent the marriage — and that he is afraid of that. A foolish thought. I must forget it.

As the day of our separation grows nearer, Laura cannot bear to have me out of her sight. I must be brave and cheerful, for her sake, but my fear will not go away. Will this marriage be the one terrible mistake of her life, and the one hopeless sorrow of mine?

*  *  *

It is the twenty-second. No more time for tears. Laura is dressed, and we leave for the church. By eleven o'clock they are married. By three o'clock they are gone. I am blind with crying and can write no more...


cure v. restore to health 治愈

respectful adj. showing deference 有礼貌的

desert v. abandon 抛弃

private adj. independent; not connected with government, public service, etc. 私立的

hesitate v. show or feel uncertainty or indecision 犹豫

embarrassing adj. causing to feel awkward or self-conscious or ashamed 令人难堪的;使人尴尬的

thoughtfully adv. engaged in or given to meditation 沉思地;若有所思地

business-like adj. serious, formal 正式的

emotion n. a strong mental or instinctive feeling 情感

inherit v. receive by legal descent or succession 继承

presence n. the state or condition of being present 在场

release v. set free; liberate 解除

withdraw v. discontinue, cancel 撤出;退出

advance v. move forward 向前走

destroy v. spoil utterly 破坏

in time eventually 最终

loyal adj. true, faithful 忠贞的

resign v. give up 退让

passively adv. offering no objection 被动地;不反对

expedition n. a journey for a particular purpose 为特别目的的旅行

provided conj. on the condition that 只要

likely adj. probable 可能的

disapprove v. have or express an unfavourable opinion 反对

capital n. money used to produce more wealth 资金

protest v. make a protest against an action or proposal 抗议;反对

dreadful adj. terrible, inspiring fear or awe 可怕的

bang v. shut noisily 用力关上

distrust v. have no trust or confidence in, doubt 不相信;怀疑

instantly adv. occurring immediately 立即;即刻

ideal adj. perfect, excellent 最好的

4.准备婚事

沃尔特·哈特里特先生离开的那天,我们都很难过。劳拉一整天呆在自己的房间里不出来,我的心情也很沉闷。可怜的吉尔摩先生肯定觉得那天很无聊。第二天早晨,劳拉从房间出来的时候,面容憔悴,像是病了一场。我觉得吉尔摩先生似乎很为她担心,我也为她担心。劳拉是个敏感而深情的人,她喜欢上沃尔特我一点儿也不觉得奇怪。其实,我自己也喜欢他。但是,我真心希望时间能够治愈劳拉的情伤。

沃尔特离开两天以后,珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士来了。他45岁,但看上去比实际年龄要年轻一些。他很英俊,稍有些秃顶,举止优雅,温和有礼。我尽力让自己对这个人产生好感。

下午,劳拉不在房里的时候,珀西瓦尔爵士提到了安妮·凯瑟里克的那封信。

“我看了吉尔摩先生给我律师的信,”他说,“我想跟你们好好地解释一下。凯瑟里克太太为我和我的家庭工作了许多年,她的婚姻很不幸,她丈夫抛弃了她,她的独生女精神有毛病,需要送进精神病院。所以,为了感谢凯瑟里克太太多年来的服务,我答应承担送她女儿去一家私立精神病院的所有费用。但不幸的是,女孩知道以后,就开始对我怀恨在心。她不久前从精神病院逃走了,我敢肯定是她出于对我的仇恨写了这封信。这太让人伤心了。”

吉尔摩先生认为这个解释非常令人满意,他说完看了看我,希望我也同意他的说法。可是,我有一种说不清的不安的感觉,犹豫了一会儿,没有说话。珀西瓦尔爵士立刻注意到了我的反应。

“哈尔库姆小姐,能否请你给凯瑟里克太太写封信,问问她这些是不是真的呢?”他非常客气地说。

我不想答应他的要求,但是又怎么好拒绝呢?拒绝只能把事情弄得越来越尴尬。于是,我走到桌旁,写了封短信,然后交给了珀西瓦尔。他看也没看就把信装进信封,写上了地址。

“好了,这件事就这样了,”他说,“请问安妮·凯瑟里克跟费尔利小姐或者你谈过吗?”

“没有。她只跟哈特里特先生谈过。”我告诉他。

“噢,是了,那位绘画教师,”他若有所思地说,“你们找到安妮·凯瑟里克的住处了吗?”

我跟他讲了农场的情况。

“找到她是我的责任,”他接着说,“明天我就去农场问问。”不一会儿,他就上楼回他的房间去了。

*  *  *

那天晚上以及第二天,珀西瓦尔爵士努力寻找一切机会同劳拉讲话,但劳拉一直心不在焉。珀西瓦尔去农场调查,结果一无所获。星期三凯瑟里克太太来信了,那是一封简短而又正式的信。信中感谢我给她写信,并且说珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我的都是事实。

为什么我还是有疑问呢?这封信对谁来讲都是充分的证据,可我还是很希望沃尔特·哈特里特先生能在这儿发表一下他的看法。应珀西瓦尔爵士的要求,我得向劳拉解释一下安妮·凯瑟里克来信的事情。她静静地听着,脸上毫无表情。我注意到她手边的桌上放着哈特里特先生的画册。我还得告诉她,珀西瓦尔爵士此行的目的是要确定他们结婚的日期。

“恐怕他会让你马上做决定,劳拉。”

“噢,不行,玛丽安!我不能!”她说,“请帮我问问他,恳求他再给我些时间。我保证年底以前给他最终的答复,但是现在不行,现在不行。”

珀西瓦尔爵士答应了这个要求。吉尔摩先生得知事情的经过后,准备同劳拉单独谈谈。

“我明天必须回伦敦去,”吉尔摩先生对我说,“走之前,我需要和费尔利小姐谈一下这桩婚事的财务问题。你知道,明年3月她21岁的时候,她会继承一大笔财产,我必须把这些都写进结婚协议中去,让协议既能反映费尔利小姐的愿望,也能令珀西瓦尔爵士接受。”

转天上午,吉尔摩先生和劳拉谈了话。下午,他动身去伦敦时,看上去忧心忡忡。不知道他们都说了些什么,我连忙赶去劳拉的房间。

“噢,玛丽安,快进来,我有话跟你说。”劳拉说。

“出了什么事,劳拉?是结婚协议的事吗?”

“不是。我简直没办法跟吉尔摩先生谈这件事。我真不好意思说出口,刚才我只是一个劲儿地哭,什么也没说。吉尔摩先生非常善良,玛丽安,他告诉我,他会帮我打理一切。我现在要告诉你的是,我再也受不了这种局面了,我必须结束这种状况。”

她的眼睛很亮,语气也很坚决。我感到有些害怕,“你想要做什么,亲爱的劳拉?你要解除同珀西瓦尔爵士的婚约吗?”

“不是的,”她回答,“我不能打破对父亲的承诺。但是,我要说出真话,我要告诉珀西瓦尔爵士我爱上了别人。”

“劳拉!他无权知道这件事!”我惊讶地说。

“我不能欺骗他,”她说,“我已经想好了。我把真相告诉他,让他决定该怎么办。”

我看着她纯洁、深情的眼神,一句话也说不出来。我伸手抱住她,尽量控制自己不哭出来。

“明天我就跟他说,你跟我去,好吗,玛丽安?”

我紧紧地抱着她,答应了她的请求——我也不清楚自己做的是对是错。我对什么都没了把握。我不明白为什么我没发觉她爱沃尔特·哈特里特爱得那么深。我第一次对她做出了错误的判断。现在我知道,她会一辈子爱着他。

*  *  *

第二天早晨发生的事让我一点儿也高兴不起来,可怜的沃尔特·哈特里特来信说他决定离开英国,问我能否帮他在国外找份工作。信后面的内容使我非常担心。他回伦敦以后,既没有见到安妮·凯瑟里克,也没有打听到她的任何消息,反而觉得有陌生人在盯他的梢。我担心他情绪不稳,赶忙给几个在伦敦的朋友写信,看他们能不能帮他在国外找到一份合适的工作。当然,劳拉对信的事一无所知。

珀西瓦尔爵士没有来同我们一起吃早餐,他捎话给我们说他会按约定11点来见我们。劳拉超乎寻常的冷静、镇定。我从未见她这样过,好像爱情使她更坚强了。

11点整,珀西瓦尔爵士敲门进来。他满脸紧张和不安。这次谈话将会决定他今后的生活,他显然非常清楚这一点。

“你可能会认为我是来请求与你解除婚约的,珀西瓦尔爵士,”劳拉冷静地说,“我不是来做这样的请求的,我非常尊重父亲的意愿。”

珀西瓦尔爵士的表情放松了一些,但我看到他的一只脚在紧张地敲打着地毯。

“我不会那样做的,如果我们两人要解除婚约的话,那一定是出于你的意愿,珀西瓦尔爵士,而不会是我的。”

“我的意愿?”他吃惊地说,“我能有什么理由解除婚约呢?”

“一个很难向你启齿的理由,我这里有了些变故。”劳拉回答。

珀西瓦尔的脸色变得煞白,双唇一点儿血色都没有。他把脸转向一侧。

“什么变故?”他尽量掩饰着自己的紧张。

“两年前约定婚事的时候,我的爱不属于任何人,”劳拉接着说,“如果我告诉你,珀西瓦尔爵士,我的爱现在属于另一个人,你会原谅我吗?”

她的眼泪流了下来。珀西瓦尔爵士用手捂住了脸,让人看不出他是怎么想的。他一句话也不说,我的直脾气可受不了了。

“珀西瓦尔爵士!”我大声问道,“你不想说点儿什么吗?你已经听到了本来你无权听到的事情。”

“可我并没有要求这权利。”他回避了我的问题。

“我想告诉你,”劳拉继续说,“我再也见不到那个人了。如果你和我分手,我会终身不嫁。我只请求你原谅我,并为我保守秘密。”

“两件事我都答应。”珀西瓦尔说完,看了看劳拉,似乎等着她再说些什么。

“我想我已经讲了足够的理由让你解除婚约。”劳拉平静地说。

“不,你说了这么多,我唯一的感觉是我一生最大的愿望就是同你结婚。”说着,他起身朝劳拉走过来。

劳拉惊讶得“咦”了一声,我倒是猜到了几分他会这么说。劳拉讲的每一句话都透出她的真诚和纯洁,但是这样良好的品德却毁掉了她解脱的希望。珀西瓦尔爵士很清楚,一个纯洁、真诚的女人是无价之宝。他为什么要放弃呢?

“我会尽一切所能去赢得你的爱,也许最终我会成功的。”珀西瓦尔说。

“永远也不会的!”劳拉看上去更美了,“我会是你忠实的妻子,但永远不会爱你。”

“这就足够了。我愿意接受你的忠贞和真诚。”说罢,他拿起劳拉的手吻了吻,然后默默地走出房间。

劳拉坐在那里一动不动,我伸出手搂住她。最后她开口道:“我必须退让,玛丽安。你给沃尔特写信时,不要告诉他我不开心。假如我比他先死了,你一定对他说,说我不能亲口对他说的话——我爱他!”

说完,她扑在沙发上放声痛哭,哭得好像心都碎了一样,最后她趴在那儿睡着了。

*  *  *

接下来的日子里,好像什么也阻止不了这桩不幸的婚姻。我力图让劳拉改变主意,但她却坚持要恪守诺言,履行义务。费尔利先生自然非常高兴,因为这场“家庭烦恼”终于画上了句号。他建议他的侄女越早结婚越好。这令我很气愤,但我把这话告诉劳拉后,她的平静反应倒让我吃了一惊。

“叔叔说的对,我给大家带来了太多麻烦。让珀西瓦尔爵士决定我们的结婚日期吧。”

珀西瓦尔爵士对此非常高兴,他离开庄园回汉普郡,准备迎接新娘。

我想换一个环境肯定对劳拉有好处,于是安排我们两人到约克郡的朋友那里呆一段时间。她同意了。我还给吉尔摩先生写了信,告诉他这桩婚事可以继续了。

第二天,我收到了沃尔特·哈特里特的来信,信中说我的朋友为他找到一份工作,要到中美洲长途旅行,他做随行的画家,11月21号动身,行程6个月。我衷心希望这是最好的安排。

劳拉和我动身前往约克郡。但是,刚刚在那里住了9天,我们就收到费尔利先生的信,让我们立即返回利默里奇。这意味着什么呢,我想不出。

一回来我就明白了。费尔利先生和珀西瓦尔爵士已经把婚礼的时间定在12月22日,就等劳拉点头同意了。费尔利先生问我可不可以说服劳拉同意这个日期,他本人神经不好,无法跟她谈。

我见到了我们的老朋友吉尔摩先生,他是来同费尔利先生谈有关结婚协议的事的。他当天就要离开庄园,着急想与我单独谈谈。

“哈尔库姆小姐,我对结婚协议中的财务安排非常不满意,”他对我说,“但是我一点儿办法也没有。我知道你多么爱你的妹妹,所以我认为你应该知道我为什么担心。

“你知道,”他接着说,“费尔利小姐继承的财产包括三部分。第一,费尔利先生死后,她会继承利默里奇的财产和土地以及由此产生的收入。如果她死后没有孩子,这份财产将转到她的一个亲戚名下,但财产的收入在她丈夫在世的时候将归他所有。如果她有个儿子,所有的财产和收入都归她的儿子。这一点没有任何问题。

“第二,明年3月费尔利小姐21岁的时候,她将得到10,000英镑的收入。如果费尔利小姐在她姑妈埃莉诺之前死去,这笔钱就归她姑妈,这当然不大可能。费尔利小姐的父亲之所以死的时候没有把这10,000英镑留给他的妹妹埃莉诺,是因为他强烈反对她嫁给一个外国人,虽然那个人是位意大利贵族,福斯科伯爵。”

“是的,劳拉跟我说过这件事。”我说。

“好吧,”吉尔摩先生接着说,“这一部分也没有问题。可是第三部分就不那么简单了。明年3月,她还将继承20,000英镑,这完全是属于她个人的一笔钱。如果她先于她丈夫死去,从这20,000英镑获得的收入将属于珀西瓦尔爵士,直至他去世;而这20,000英镑本金将归他们的孩子所有。假如没有孩子继承这笔钱,费尔利小姐死的时候,可以选择亲属或朋友继承。这是我的建议。但是,珀西瓦尔爵士的律师拒不接受这一点,他坚持认为,如果珀西瓦尔爵士死在他妻子后面,同时他们又没有孩子,珀西瓦尔就应该得到这笔钱。那样的话,费尔利家族的任何其他人,包括你在内,都得不到一分钱,哈尔库姆小姐。”

吉尔摩先生长叹了一口气,“我坚决反对这样。我极力争取,但还是无法让那位律师改变主意。我发现珀西瓦尔爵士长期欠债,急需现金。我最后的努力就是来这里试图说服费尔利先生反对珀西瓦尔爵士律师的要求,非常遗憾,我没有成功。对他侄女的这桩婚事费尔利先生什么也不想管。他说他侄女不会死在珀西瓦尔爵士前面的,又有什么可担心的呢?”

吉尔摩先生站起身,拿起帽子准备离开,“我会把协议拟好,并把它寄给你们。我没别的办法,我不这样做,费尔利先生也会再找一名律师这样做的。不过,我跟你说,哈尔库姆小姐,我是不会让我女儿根据我被迫为费尔利小姐准备的这样一份协议嫁人的。”

说完,他握了握我的手,一言不发地离开这里,去赶回伦敦的火车了。

吉尔摩先生走后,我尽量保持理智。费尔利先生是劳拉的监护人,如果他愿意接受这份协议,我做什么都无济于事。这是这桩可怕婚姻的又一个令人担忧的地方。现在更紧迫的事情是结婚日期。我把结婚的日期告诉劳拉以后,她的脸色立刻变白了,身体也开始发抖。

alt

“不要这么快!”她喊道,“噢,玛丽安,不要这么快!”

“好吧,那我去和费尔利先生说,”我这样说着,已经做好了为她去抗争的准备,“我会尽力去改变这个日期。”

“算了吧,”她有气无力地说,“一切都太晚了,玛丽安,太晚了!抗争只能带来更多的麻烦。去告诉我叔叔,我同意了。”

我要不是气愤至极,肯定就会哭出声来。我冲进费尔利先生的房间,大声喊道:“劳拉同意22日结婚!”——然后冲出去,很响地甩上门。但愿我能让他的神经一整天都不得安宁。

*  *  *

这以后,婚礼的准备工作开始了。整天都有裁缝进进出出;要收拾行李,做计划,进行各种安排。我们每天都能收到珀西瓦尔爵士的来信,他提议婚礼之后带劳拉到意大利住六个月,见一些珀西瓦尔的朋友,包括他最好的老朋友福斯科伯爵。福斯科伯爵的妻子当然就是劳拉的姑妈埃莉诺。这桩婚姻起码可以让劳拉和她的姑妈重逢,我这样想着。听起来伯爵本人倒是一个非常有趣的人,我也想有朝一日能见见他。

日子很快地过去了。珀西瓦尔爵士终于来了。他看上去有些疲倦和不安,但是有说有笑的仿佛世界上最幸福的男人就是他。他来的当天晚上去了村子里,打听是否有人知道安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。虽然没人给他提供什么消息,但我必须承认他继续寻求帮助她,这是善举。我决定努力改变对他不好的看法,说到底,我有什么理由不信任他呢?我相信如果真的努力尝试,我可能会喜欢他的。

喜欢他是很容易的。今天我同他说起劳拉与我的最大愿望——在劳拉结婚之后,我和她还能像以前一样住在一起。他立刻就答应了,而且很高兴能有这样的安排。他说我将是他妻子最理想、最合适的陪伴。是啊,我开始非常喜欢珀西瓦尔爵士了。

*  *  *

我恨珀西瓦尔爵士!他不善解人意,缺乏同情心,没有好心肠。昨天晚上,他跟劳拉耳语了些什么——劳拉不愿告诉我具体内容——她的脸色变得非常难看。而他却一点儿没在意。我以前对他所有的怀疑又出现了。现在,他是不是露出了他的本来面目?他变得比以往更加焦躁不安,经常言语尖刻,发脾气。我有个奇怪的想法,是不是会有什么事阻止这桩婚姻,而又非常害怕那样的结局。这是胡思乱想,我不能当真。

我们分别的日子一天天临近了,劳拉一刻也不肯离开我。为了她,我必须勇敢些,高兴起来。但是,我的担心没有消失。这桩婚姻会成为劳拉一生的大错吗?会成为我伤心、痛苦的根源吗?

*  *  *

22日到了。时间到了,不能再哭了。劳拉梳妆打扮完毕,我们要去教堂了。11点钟,婚礼就会结束。下午3点,他们就离开这里了。我已经哭得视线模糊,无法继续写下去了……

5
A document for signature

Six long, lonely months passed, and I had little to do but think of absent friends. I received a cheerful letter from Walter Hartright after he arrived in Honduras, and just before he set off with the expedition into the forest. Since then, I have heard nothing. There was no news of Anne Catherick or Mrs Clements. Poor Mr Gilmore fell very ill and had to give up work, but his business is continued by his partner, Mr Kyrle. Mrs Vesey has moved to London to live with her sister, and Mr Fairlie, I believe, is secretly delighted to have his house free of women.

Most of all, of course, I thought about Laura. Many letters came from her, but she said very little in them. She told me she was well, but hardly mentioned her husband, and wrote not a word about Count Fosco, whom they had met in Austria, not Italy. I understood from her silence that she did not like him. All she said was that her Aunt Eleanor, Madame Fosco, was quieter and more sensible than she had used to be.

*  *  *

On 11th June I arrived at Blackwater Park, Sir Percival's family home in Hampshire. The waiting was nearly over, and how happy I was! The next day Laura and her husband would return home, together with Count Fosco and his wife, who were going to spend the summer at Blackwater.

In the morning the housekeeper, Mrs Michelson, showed me round the house. It is very old, and much of it is dusty and unused; only one part of the enormous building is comfortable enough to live in.

Later I explored the gardens and the park. The gardens are small and not well kept, and there are so many trees that the house feels shut in by them. I found a path through the trees, which after half a mile brought me to a lake. It was a damp, lonely place. The still dark waters of the lake and the long shadows from the tall trees gave it a gloomy air. Near the lake there was an old boat-house with some seats in it, so I went in and sat down for a rest.

I am not a nervous person generally but when I heard the sound of quick breathing under my seat, I jumped to my feet in alarm. In fact, it was a dog — a small black and white dog, with a bullet wound in its side. I carried the poor creature back to the house and sent for Mrs Michelson to help me.

When she came in and saw the dog lying on the floor, she cried out at once, 'Oh! That must be Mrs Catherick's dog!'

'Whose?' I asked, amazed.

'Mrs Catherick's. Do you know her? She came here to ask for news of her daughter.'

'When?'

'Yesterday. She'd heard that her daughter Anne had been seen in the neighbourhood. But no one knew anything. I suppose the dog ran away into the woods and got shot by the park-keeper.'

I tried to make my voice sound politely interested. 'I suppose you've known Mrs Catherick for some years?'

'Oh no, Miss Halcombe, I never saw her before. She lives at Welmingham, twenty-five miles away. I had heard of her, because of Sir Percival paying for her daughter to go to an asylum. But yesterday, Mrs Catherick asked me not to mention her visit to Sir Percival. That was an odd thing to say, wasn't it, Miss?'

Odd, indeed! But then we had to turn our attention to the poor dog, which, despite our efforts, died a little while later. It was a sad thing to happen on my first day at Blackwater.

*  *  *

Later that evening the travellers returned. After my first happiness at meeting Laura, I felt there was a strangeness between us and I realized she had changed. I was sure we would soon get back to normal, but she had lost her innocent openness. She was unwilling to talk about her married life, and I saw that there were no warm feelings between her husband and her. It wasn't long before she asked me about Walter — 'Have you heard from him? Is he well and happy?' — and it was clear to me that she loved him as deeply as ever.

As for Sir Percival, his manners are sharper and less pleasant. On meeting me he simply said, 'Hello, Miss Halcombe. Glad to see you again,' — and then walked past me. Little things seem to annoy him a great deal. For example, the housekeeper told him a man had called to speak to him a week ago but had left no name. Sir Percival demanded a description of the man, which poor Mrs Michelson was unable to give, and Sir Percival stormed out of the room in great anger.

Laura was certainly right about Madame Fosco. Never have I seen such a change in a woman. As Eleanor Fairlie (aged thirty-seven), she wore bright clothes, was silly and foolish, and always talked nonsense. As Madame Fosco (aged forty-three), she wears only grey or black, and sits for hours in silence, doing needlework, rolling up cigarettes for the Count, or just looking at him with the eyes of a loyal dog.

And the man who has achieved this extraordinary change, the man who has tamed this wild Englishwoman? Yes, what can I say about the Count? He looks like a man who could tame anything. If he had married me, I would have made his cigarettes, as his wife does. I would have held my tongue when he looked at me, as she holds hers.

How can I explain the power, the attraction, the force that comes from this man? There are many unlikeable or unattractive things about him. For example, he is enormously fat; he seems to have false hair; he is at least sixty years old. He is lazy, jumps at the slightest sudden sound, and has a peculiar fondness for pet animals. He has brought with him a variety of birds and a whole family of white mice, which he often kisses and calls loving names, just as a child might do.

And yet, and yet... He is fat, but moves lightly and easily, like a dancer. There is a calmness and a strength about his smooth, unlined face, and his voice is persuasive, gentle, hard to resist. His knowledge of the English language is perfect and he is a well-known expert in chemical science. He speaks in baby language to his white mice, but he talks with intelligence and charm about books in every language, and brings to his conversation experience of life in half the capitals of Europe.

But it is his eyes that I shall always remember — his cold, clear, beautiful grey eyes, eyes which held such a frightening power that I shiver even now to think of it.

I could discover very little about his past from Sir Percival. I only learnt that he had not been to Italy for years; I wondered if this was for political reasons. It seemed he had saved Sir Percival from great danger in Rome once and they had been the closest of friends ever since. It was quite clear that Sir Percival was always anxious to please him and would never go against his wishes.

I wonder whether I am afraid of him too. I certainly never saw a man I would be more sorry to have as an enemy.

*  *  *

At lunchtime, a few days after they all returned, a man called Mr Merriman arrived, asking to see Sir Percival urgently. Sir Percival had clearly not expected the visit and looked both alarmed and angry as he left the table.

Neither Laura nor I had any idea who Mr Merriman was, but the Count told us he was Sir Percival's lawyer. I wondered what had happened, as a lawyer does not usually travel from London to Hampshire unless sent for. Mr Merriman must be the bringer of important news — either good or bad.

Count Fosco obviously read my thoughts and said softly to me, 'Yes, Miss Halcombe, something has happened.'

Later in the day I was coming from my room when I saw Sir Percival and his lawyer crossing the hall downstairs. They spoke quietly, but clearly enough for their words to reach my ears.

'Yes, Sir Percival,' I heard the lawyer say, 'it all depends on Lady Glyde.'

I immediately stopped when I heard Laura's name and, although I knew it was wrong, continued to listen.

'You understand, Sir Percival, Lady Glyde must sign her name in the presence of two witnesses. If this is done in a week's time, everything will be all right. If not, I may be able to get them to accept a document promising payment in three months. But how that money is to be obtained by then... '

They went into the library and I heard no more, but it seemed that Sir Percival had a serious debt and that the solution to it depended on Laura. I immediately went to tell Laura what I had heard. She did not seem surprised.

'I was afraid of something like this,' she said, 'when I heard about that strange gentleman who called, without leaving his name. He had probably come to ask for his money. But don't worry, Marian. I won't sign anything that I might later regret.'

In the evening Sir Percival was unusually polite and pleasant to all of us. What did this mean? I thought I could guess — I was afraid Laura could guess — and I was sure Count Fosco knew. I saw Sir Percival looking at him for approval more than once during the evening. The Count was certainly aware of Sir Percival's financial problems.

The next morning Sir Percival asked Count Fosco, Laura, and myself if we would go to the library for a minute after lunch for a small business matter. Before lunch, however, we all went for a walk to the lake, stopping at the boat-house for a rest.

'Some people call the lake pretty,' said Sir Percival, pointing to the view. 'I call it ugly. It looks just the place for a murder, doesn't it? What do you think, Fosco?'

'My dear Percival,' the Count protested, 'the water is too shallow to hide a body. Only a fool would murder someone here. A wise man would choose somewhere else.'

'Wise men do not murder,' said Laura, looking at him with dislike. 'I am sure you cannot give me an example of a wise man who has been a criminal.'

'My dear lady,' said the Count, 'it is impossible to give an example, because a wise man's crime is never found out.'

As he spoke, he was playing with his white mice in their little cage, and suddenly noticed that one of them was missing. A few seconds later he found the little animal under a seat, but also found something which seemed to shock him.

'Percival,' he said, 'come here. Look at this in the sand. Blood!'

Everyone seemed alarmed, so I had to explain about the wounded dog I had found.

'Whose dog was it?' asked Sir Percival.

'The housekeeper said it was Mrs Catherick's dog,' I replied, remembering too late that the visit was meant to be kept secret.

'What the devil was Mrs Catherick doing here?'

This question came with such rudeness and anger that I turned away. Count Fosco laid his hand on Sir Percival's arm.

'My dear Percival! Gently, gently!'

To my great surprise, Sir Percival apologized to me, and Count Fosco then said, 'Why not question the housekeeper, Percival, since she seems to know all about it?'

Sir Percival took the point, and immediately left us to return to the house.

The Count seemed fascinated by Mrs Catherick and wanted to know all about her visit. I tried to say as little as possible, but Laura asked questions too, and in the end the Count knew as much as we did about Mrs Catherick and her daughter Anne. I was quite sure, from his surprise at the story, that the Count had known nothing of Anne Catherick, and uneasily I wondered why Sir Percival had not told his closest friend.

When we went back to the house, Sir Percival came to greet us. 'I am sorry to say I have to leave you. I have to drive a long way and won't be back until tomorrow. First, though, I would like to finish that little business matter. Will you come into the library? It won't take a minute.'

In the library he got a document out of a cupboard and put it on the table. It was folded in such a way that all the writing was hidden and only the places to sign were visible.

Handing a pen to Laura, he said, 'Sign there. You and Fosco are to sign afterwards, Miss Halcombe.'

'What do you want me to sign?' Laura asked quietly.

'I have no time to explain. I have to leave. It's just business,' he said angrily. 'Women don't understand business. Just sign it.'

'But surely I ought to know what I am signing.'

'I see. So you're saying you don't trust me! Is that it? What kind of a wife is that?'

To help Laura, I said, 'I am afraid I cannot be a witness if she doesn't understand what she is signing.'

Sir Percival turned to me furiously. 'How dare you! You're a guest in my house and you take my wife's side against me!'

'Control your unfortunate temper, Percival,' said the Count, and I heard him whisper to him, 'You idiot!'

But Laura had put the pen down and moved to my side.

'Lady Glyde is right,' the Count then said. 'Let the signature wait until tomorrow.'

Sir Percival swore at him, but moved away from the table.

'All right, then,' he said, 'until tomorrow. Anyway, I have to go. But you will sign tomorrow or —' He gave his wife a cold, hard stare, then went out.

As Laura and I moved to the door, the Count approached us. 'You have just seen Sir Percival at his worst,' he said. 'As his old friend, I apologize for him and promise he won't behave like that tomorrow.'

I had begun to realize that I could not hope to remain at Blackwater Park now without the influence and support of the Count, so I answered by thanking him warmly. Then I led Laura out and took her up to my room for a rest.

While we were there, she told me how cruel Sir Percival had been to her since their marriage and how unhappy she was. I tried to calm her and to find a solution to the problem of the signature. Suddenly I had the idea of writing to Mr Gilmore's partner, Mr Kyrle, and asking for his advice. In my letter I also asked him to get a messenger to bring the reply by one o'clock the next day. I then put the letter in the post-bag in the hall. Just at that moment Madame Fosco appeared and asked to speak to me in the garden. She spoke to me for a full half-hour about how much sympathy she had for me. I found this very odd indeed since she had shown very little interest in me before.

When I finally returned, I saw the Count also putting a letter in the post-bag. For some reason I decided to check my letter was properly closed, so I got it out of the bag. This was lucky, as I found the envelope had come open. How strange, I thought. Perhaps there had been something wrong with it...

Or perhaps...

No! There could be no other explanation.


absent adj. not present 不在场的

free of not containing or subject to 没有

enormous adj. very large, huge 非常大的

gloomy adj. dismal, depressing 阴暗的;阴郁的

creature n. an animal 动物

neighbourhood n. the surrounding area 附近

odd adj. extraordinary, strange 反常的;奇怪的

storm v. move violently or angrily 气愤地走

tame v. make tame 驯服

hold one's tongue be silent 不说话

enormously adv. very, quite 非常

frightening adj. terrifying 使人害怕的

go against be contrary to 反对

urgently adv. requiring immediate action or attention 急迫地

obtain v. acquire, secure 得到;获得

library n. a room containing a collection of books 书房

aware adj. conscious or having knowledge 清楚;知道

murder n. killing unlawfully with a premeditated motive 谋杀

rudeness n. being impolite or offensive 无礼

fascinated adj. showing great interest in 非常感兴趣的

fold v. bend or close something over upon itself 折叠

furiously adv. extremely angry 极度气愤地

swear v. use indecent language 骂人

stare n. a staring gaze

messenger n. a person who carries a message 信使

properly adv. fittingly; suitably 适当地

5.需要签字的文件

漫长、孤寂的六个月过去了。除去思念不在身边的朋友们,我无所事事。我收到一封沃尔特·哈特里特的来信,是他到达洪都拉斯,进入林地之前写的。从那以后,他就没有了任何消息。安妮·凯瑟里克和克莱门茨太太没有任何音信。可怜的吉尔摩先生病得很厉害,不得不停止工作。他的工作由他的合伙人克尔先生代理。维西太太搬到了伦敦,和她妹妹住在一起。我想费尔利先生一定暗自高兴这庄园里没有了女人。

我最思念的当然是劳拉。她来过许多信,但是内容都非常简单。她说她挺好的,却只字不提她丈夫,也不提福斯科伯爵。他们是在奥地利相见的,而不是在意大利。从她的沉默我看得出,她不喜欢他。她只是说到埃莉诺姑妈,就是福斯科夫人,比以前话少了,也更理智了。

*  *  *

6月11日,我来到布莱克沃特庄园,珀西瓦尔爵士在汉普郡的家。等待终于快结束了,我异常兴奋。第二天,劳拉同她丈夫就要回来了,一同来的还有福斯科伯爵夫妇,他们要在布莱克沃特度过这个夏天。

早上,管家米切尔森太太领我参观了房子。这是一幢很古老的房子,多处是厚厚的尘土,没有人住。偌大的房子只有一部分还比较舒适,可以住人。

之后,我去看了看花园和园林。花园很小,维护得也不好。这周围树木非常多,遮蔽了房子。我发现了树林中的一条小路,沿着小路走了半英里之后是一个湖。这是一个潮湿僻静的地方。平静漆黑的湖水和长长的树影使这里笼上了一层阴暗、凄凉的色彩。湖的附近有一个破旧的船屋,里面有几个座位,我走进去坐下休息。

我并不是一个胆小的人,但是听见座位底下传来急促的喘息声,我还是惊得一下子跳了起来。其实,那是只狗——一只黑白相间的小狗,身子的一侧有子弹的伤痕。我把可怜的小东西带回房子里,叫来米切尔森太太帮我。

米切尔森太太进来看见地上躺着的小狗,马上大声说:“噢,这一定是凯瑟里克太太的狗!”

“是谁的狗?”我非常吃惊地问。

“凯瑟里克太太的。你认识她吗?她来这里打听过她女儿的消息。”

“什么时候?”

“就是昨天。她听说有人在附近看见过她女儿安妮。可是没人知道这件事。我想这条狗可能跑到树林里去,让看林人给打了。”

我尽量让自己听起来不是过分好奇,“你是不是认识凯瑟里克太太好多年了?”

“噢,也不是,哈尔库姆小姐。我以前没见过她。她住在离这里25英里远的韦明翰。我听说过她,因为珀西瓦尔爵士出钱送她女儿去精神病院。但是昨天,凯瑟里克太太让我别跟珀西瓦尔爵士讲她来过的事。这有点儿怪,是吧,小姐?”

奇怪,的确奇怪!但是,我们得把注意力集中到那只小狗身上,虽然我们尽力挽救,没过多久它还是死了。我第一天到布莱克沃特就发生了一件令人伤心的事。

*  *  *

当天晚上,旅行者们都回来了。我见到劳拉的高兴劲儿刚过,就觉得我们之间有一种奇怪的感觉,我意识到她变了。我相信,我们之间很快就会像从前一样。但是她好像失去了原来的纯真和坦诚。她不愿谈自己的婚后生活,而且我发现她同她丈夫之间毫无亲密可言。她很快就向我问起沃尔特:“你收到他的信了吗?他好吗?”显而易见,她还在深深地爱着他。

至于珀西瓦尔爵士,他的脾气变得越发暴躁,越发不讨人喜欢。见到我,他只是简单地说了声“你好,哈尔库姆小姐。很高兴又见到你。”然后就从我身边走过去了。一点点小事也会让他大为恼火。举个例子,米切尔森太太告诉他一个星期前有个男人来找他,但没有留下姓名。珀西瓦尔爵士问那人什么模样,可怜的米切尔森太太说不上来,于是珀西瓦尔爵士勃然大怒,气急败坏地走出房间。

关于福斯科夫人,劳拉说得很对。我从未见过哪个女人身上会发生如此大的变化。她是埃莉诺·费尔利小姐的时候(当时她37岁),经常穿鲜亮的衣服,说傻话,做傻事。她成了福斯科夫人以后(现在她43岁),只穿灰色和黑色的衣服,而且经常几个小时坐在那里一声不吭地做针线,给伯爵卷烟或者像一条忠诚的狗一样望着伯爵。

那么,那个导致了如此变化,驯服了这么一个桀骜不驯的英国女人的男人呢?对,我该怎么描述伯爵呢?他好像可以驯服一切。假如他娶了,我也会像他妻子一样给他卷烟,我也会像她一样被他看一眼就闭上嘴。

我应该怎么解释这个男人的魔力、魅力和影响呢?其实,他身上有许多不招人喜欢的地方。比方说,他体形肥胖,似乎还戴假发,而且少说也有60岁了。他人很懒,听到任何一点儿响动都会跳起来,还特别爱养宠物。他带来各种各样的鸟和一大窝白鼠。他就像小孩子一样,时常亲吻这些宠物,用昵称叫它们。

可是,可是……他身体肥胖,但动作像舞蹈演员一样轻巧灵便。他的脸很光滑,没有皱纹;表情沉稳庄重。他的声音很柔和,有一种难以抵挡的魅力。他精通英语,还是个化学家。他用儿语对白鼠讲话,但是谈到用任何语言写作的书籍,他都睿智机敏,滔滔不绝。他到过一半欧洲国家的首都。他经常谈起在那些城市的经历。

但让我铭记在心的是他的眼睛——一双冷酷、明亮、好看的灰眼睛。他的眼睛有一种慑人的威力,我现在想起来还会打哆嗦。

关于他的过去,我从珀西瓦尔爵士那儿知道的很少。我只知道他很多年没回意大利了,不知道是不是由于政治原因。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士在罗马遇到大难,伯爵帮助他脱离了危险。从那以后,他们成了密友。很明显,珀西瓦尔爵士总是力图讨好伯爵,从不跟他对着干。

我不知道自己是不是也害怕他。但是,他是我所见过的人中我最不愿与之成为敌人的。

*  *  *

他们旅行回来几天后,吃午饭的时候,一个叫梅里曼的人来了,要求马上见珀西瓦尔爵士。看得出,珀西瓦尔没想到这个人会来,他起身出去的时候显得既吃惊又生气。

劳拉和我都不知道梅里曼先生是何许人。伯爵告诉我们他是珀西瓦尔爵士的律师。我不知道出了什么事,因为除了被唤而来,律师是不会从伦敦到汉普郡来的。梅里曼先生一定带来了什么重要消息——不管是好消息还是坏消息。

福斯科伯爵显然看出了我的心事,轻声对我说:“没错,哈尔库姆小姐,确实出事了。”

后来,我从房里出来,看见珀西瓦尔爵士和律师正穿过楼下的大厅。他们说话的声音很低,但还是清晰地传进我的耳朵里。

“是的,珀西瓦尔爵士,”我听见律师说,“一切都取决于格莱德夫人了。”

听到劳拉的名字,我马上停住了脚步。我知道这样做不好,但还是接着往下听。

“你知道,珀西瓦尔爵士,格莱德夫人必须在两个证人在场的情况下签字,只要这件事在一星期之内办妥,一切都好说。如果不行,我可以准备一份文件,向他们保证三个月后付款。可是,三个月后怎么能弄到钱呢……?”

他们走进书房,下面的话我听不见了。好像珀西瓦尔爵士欠了一大笔债,而还债就取决于劳拉。我立即把刚刚听到的消息告诉了劳拉,她看上去一点儿也不惊讶。

“我料到会出这种事,”劳拉说,“在我听说来了一位没有留下姓名的陌生人时,我就料到了。那人很可能是来要钱的。不过别怕,玛丽安,任何今后我可能后悔的文件,我都不会签的。”

那天晚上,珀西瓦尔爵士对我们大家异乎寻常地客气。这说明什么呢?我想我能猜出来——劳拉也能猜出来——而且我敢肯定福斯科伯爵清楚其中的奥秘。我注意到珀西瓦尔有好几次都用眼神征求伯爵的意见。伯爵肯定清楚珀西瓦尔爵士的经济困境。

第二天早上,珀西瓦尔爵士让福斯科伯爵、劳拉还有我午饭后到书房来一下,谈一点事情。午饭前我们一同散步来到了湖边,在船屋里歇脚。

“有人说这湖很美,”珀西瓦尔爵士指着周围的景色说,“我觉得它很丑,像个发生凶案的地方,不是吗?你觉得呢,福斯科?”

“我亲爱的珀西瓦尔,”伯爵反对道,“这里的水太浅了,根本藏不住尸体,只有傻子才在这里谋杀。聪明人会选择别的地方。”

“聪明人不会去杀人的,”劳拉一面说着,一面不高兴地看着伯爵,“我相信你找不出一个聪明人犯罪的例子。”

“亲爱的夫人,”伯爵说,“我可找不出例子,因为聪明人犯罪不会让人知道。”

伯爵一边说着,一边摆弄着小笼子里的白鼠。他突然发现少了一只,但很快在一个座位底下找到了它,同时还发现了让他大吃一惊的东西。

“珀西瓦尔,快过来。你看这沙子,上面有血!”他说。

大家都很吃惊,我不得不告诉他们我发现那只受伤的狗的事情。

“谁的狗?”珀西瓦尔爵士问。

“管家说是凯瑟里克太太的。”我回答,忽然想起来这应该是秘密,可是太晚了。

“凯瑟里克太太到这儿来干什么?”

珀西瓦尔问得既气愤又无礼,我转过身去。福斯科伯爵拍了拍珀西瓦尔的胳膊。

“亲爱的珀西瓦尔!别着急,别着急!”

出乎我的意料,珀西瓦尔给我道了歉。伯爵接着说:“为什么不问问管家呢,珀西瓦尔?她好像知道事情的来龙去脉。”

珀西瓦尔爵士接受了这个建议,马上告辞回了庄园。

伯爵似乎对凯瑟里克太太非常感兴趣,想了解她那次来的所有情况。我尽量少透露信息,可是劳拉也问这问那。最后,我们知道的关于凯瑟里克太太以及她女儿安妮的情况,伯爵全都知道了。从伯爵惊讶的表情我可以断定,在这之前他对安妮·凯瑟里克一无所知。我很纳闷,为什么珀西瓦尔爵士不告诉他的好朋友这些事。

我们回到庄园,珀西瓦尔爵士过来同我们打招呼,“很抱歉,我得跟大家告辞。我要赶很长一段路,明天才能回来。不过,我想走之前了结那件小事。到书房来好吗?一会儿就好。”

来到书房,他从柜子里取出一份文件放到桌子上。文件是叠起来的,文字部分都遮住了,只能看见签字的部分。

他把一支笔递给劳拉,说:“在这儿签字吧。哈尔库姆小姐,你和福斯科等会儿再签。”

alt

“你要我签的是什么文件?”劳拉平静地问。

“我没时间解释,我得走了,就是一份公文,”珀西瓦尔很不高兴地说,“你们女人不懂,你就签字吧。”

“我当然有理由知道我签的是什么。”

“我明白了,你的意思是你不信任我!对吗?这叫什么妻子?”

我站在劳拉一边,说:“如果她不知道签的是什么,那我恐怕无法做证人。”

珀西瓦尔爵士愤怒地转向我,“你好大的胆子!你是我的客人,可却站在我妻子一边同我作对!”

“控制一下你的臭脾气,珀西瓦尔,”伯爵说,我听他对珀西瓦尔耳语:“你这笨蛋!”

劳拉放下笔,走到我身旁。

“格莱德夫人说的对,”伯爵说,“签字的事明天再说吧。”

珀西瓦尔爵士朝他破口大骂,但还是走开了。

“那好吧,”珀西瓦尔说,“那就等明天。不管怎样,我现在得走了。但是,你明天必须签字,否则——”他恶狠狠地瞪了他妻子一眼,然后走出了房间。

劳拉和我往外走的时候,伯爵走了过来。“你们刚才看到了珀西瓦尔爵士脾气最差的样子,”他说,“作为他的老朋友,我替他道歉。我保证他明天不会这样了。”

我开始明白,现在要是没有伯爵的帮助,我是不大可能接续呆在布莱克沃特庄园的。我真心地感谢了他。然后,我拉着劳拉上楼,到我的房间休息一会儿。

在我的房间里,劳拉告诉我结婚后珀西瓦尔爵士对待她多么冷酷,她多么不开心。我努力安慰她,帮她想办法解决签字的问题。忽然,我想到了给吉尔摩先生的合伙人克尔先生写信,问问他的意见。我在信里叫他派一个信使第二天1点之前把回信带过来。写完后,我把信放到了大厅的邮袋里。就在这时,福斯科夫人走过来,约我到花园里谈谈。她跟我足足说了半个小时她有多么同情我。我觉得非常奇怪,因为她以前根本就不在意我。

我回到屋里,看到福斯科伯爵也在往邮袋里放信。不知出于什么原因,我决定查看一下我的信是不是封好了。于是,我把我的那封信拿了出来。我还真做对了,我发现信封是开着的。好奇怪呀,我心里想。也许有人在捣鬼……

也许……

没错!不会是别的原因。

6
An appointment by the lake

After dinner that evening, Laura and I went for a walk down to the lake. The atmosphere was gloomy and depressing, but at least we were alone.

'I want to have no secrets from you, Marian,' Laura said, 'but I'm sure you have already guessed what my married life is like. Sir Percival said such cruel things to me in Italy that I turned for comfort to my memories of those happy days with Walter Hartright. And I have to tell you, Marian, Sir Percival now knows that Walter is the man I loved.'

I stared at her, and what little hope I had left began to die.

'It was at a party in Rome. Some people from London said I should have drawing lessons and recommended a Mr Hartright. I could not control myself when I heard his name and my husband noticed. "So it was him, was it?" he said, with a horrible smile. "Well, we will see about Mr Hartright. You will be sorry, and so will he, to the end of your lives." And Marian, he uses this knowledge like a whip to punish me, day in, day out.'

'Oh, Laura!' I said, putting my arms around her. This was my fault — yes, my fault! I remembered the white despair of Walter's face as I told him to leave, as I tore these two young hearts apart. And I had done this for Sir Percival Glyde.

For Sir Percival Glyde.

*  *  *

It was growing dark when we set out for home, and as we left Laura seized my arm. 'Marian, look!'

By the lake was a dark figure, half hidden by the evening mist rising off the water. We began to walk quickly.

'I'm sure it's following us,' whispered Laura. 'Is it a man or a woman?' She was shaking with fear.

'It's hard to tell in this light,' I said, then called out, 'Who's there?' There was no answer.

We hurried back through the wood, and when we reached home, I sent Laura upstairs and went to find out where everyone was. The Count and his wife, the servants, the housekeeper — all were inside. The figure by the lake was no one from the house. So who could it have been?

The next day Laura discovered she had lost her bracelet and thought she must have dropped it near the lake. She went off to look for it while I waited for the messenger from Mr Kyrle.

One o'clock came. By now I was so suspicious of everyone in the house that I decided to slip out and meet the messenger myself. Taking great care not to be seen, I went down to the main gate and a little way along the road. Soon a cab appeared. I stopped it and said, 'Are you going to Blackwater Park?'

A man put his head out and said, 'Yes, with a letter for Miss Halcombe.'

'You may give the letter to me,' I said. 'I am Miss Halcombe.'

I read the letter quickly.


Dear Miss Halcombe — Your letter has caused me great anxiety. It seems very likely that Lady Glyde's signature is needed so that a Loan of all or part of her £20,000 can be made to Sir Percival. This is almost certainly illegal, and Lady Glyde should not sign any document until I have examined it first.

Sincerely, William Kyrle.


I read this very thankfully and told the messenger to say that I understood the letter. As I spoke these words, Count Fosco came round the corner and suddenly appeared in front of me. Completely taken by surprise, I stared at him speechlessly. The messenger drove away in his cab, and the Count took my arm to walk home with me.

He talked pleasantly of this and that, and asked no questions about letters or messengers, so I assumed he had found out everything. He must have read my letter, returned it to the post-bag, and now knew that I had received an answer. There was no point in trying to deceive him so I said nothing, and just tried to seem quite cool and calm.

Back at the house we found that Sir Percival had returned, in an even worse mood than before, it seemed. When I told him Laura was out looking for her bracelet, he growled,

'Bracelet or no bracelet, I shall expect to see her in the library in half an hour.'

I turned to go into the house, but behind me heard the Count saying to Sir Percival, 'May I have five minutes' talk with you, here on the grass?'

They walked off together and I went inside to the sitting room, to think over all that had happened. Before long, however, the door opened softly and the Count looked in.

'Good news, Miss Halcombe,' he said. 'The business of the signature is put off for the moment. I'm sure you are relieved.'

He went out before I had recovered from my amazement. There could be no doubt that this change was due to his influence. His discovery of my writing to London and receiving an answer had caused him to interfere. Now there was even more to think about but, exhausted by worry and the heat of the day, my eyes closed and I fell into a little sleep.

I woke to find Laura's hand on my shoulder.

'Marian! The figure at the lake. I've just spoken to her! It's Anne Catherick. Look, she found my bracelet.'

Still half asleep, I stared at her stupidly. 'Anne Catherick?'

'Yes! I was searching in the boat-house,' Laura went on, 'when a woman in a white dress came in and said quietly, "Miss Fairlie. I have your bracelet. Your mother would not want you to lose it. "I jumped up, but her voice was so kind that I wasn't afraid. I asked her how she knew my mother. She said her name was Anne Catherick and asked me if I remembered as a little girl walking with her and my mother to the school in Limmeridge one day. I did remember. Suddenly I saw that we were like each other, but her face was pale and thin and tired. It was how my face might look after a long illness. "Why do you call me Miss Fairlie?" I asked, and she answered, "Because I love the name of Fairlie and hate the name of Glyde."'

'Did she say anything about your husband?' I asked.

'She said that after she wrote the letter, she did not have the courage to stay in Limmeridge to try to prevent my marriage to him. She was afraid he would find her and shut her up in the asylum again. But she was not afraid any more because she was so ill she thought she was dying. Then, Marian, she said that she and her mother knew a secret that my husband was afraid of.'

'Yes? Go on!' I said eagerly. 'What secret?'

'She was just going to tell me, when she thought she heard a noise outside. "We are not alone," she said, "someone is watching. Come here tomorrow at this time and I will tell you." Then she pushed me to one side and disappeared.'

'Oh, Laura, Laura, another chance lost! But you must keep the appointment tomorrow. It seems so important. I will follow you at a safe distance. She must not escape this time.'

We were silent for a time. Then Laura said anxiously, 'Why hasn't Sir Percival called us to the library to sign the document?'

'Oh yes! I forgot to tell you,' I said. 'Thanks to Count Fosco, the business of the signature has been postponed.'

'But why?' Laura said, amazed. 'If Sir Percival urgently needs money, how can it be postponed?'

'I heard Sir Percival's lawyer mention a second plan — to give a document promising payment in three months.'

'Oh, Marian!' she said. 'That would be such a relief.'

'Yes, it would. Let's hope that it's true.'

That evening Sir Percival was polite, even pleasant, especially to Laura. This must have been due to the Count's influence, and it worried me. What lay behind it? I was sure that Sir Percival's sudden journey yesterday had been to Welmingham, to question Mrs Catherick. What had he learnt? What were his plans? As the evening passed, I grew more and more uneasy, and I went to bed feeling very anxious about what the next day would bring.

*  *  *

I was not wrong to be anxious. The next day Laura and I arranged that after lunch she would go alone to the boat-house, and that I would follow a little later, taking great care that Anne Catherick did not see me, in case she was frightened by the appearance of another stranger.

Sir Percival had gone out earlier in the morning and did not appear even for lunch, so it was quite easy to put our plan into action. However, when I came quietly up to the back of the boat-house, I heard no voices, no sounds of movement, nothing. Soon I was searching inside the boat-house, and softly calling Laura's name. But no one answered and no one appeared. Outside, I searched the ground for signs, and found the footprints of two people in the sand — big footprints like a man's and small footprints, which I was sure were Laura's. There was also a little hole in the sand by the wall of the boat-house.

Desperate with worry, I hurried back to the house. The first person I met was Mrs Michelson, the housekeeper.

'Do you know,' I asked, 'whether Lady Glyde has come in?'

'Yes, she has, Miss Halcombe. And I am afraid something unfortunate has happened. Lady Glyde ran upstairs in tears and Sir Percival has told me to dismiss her servant, Fanny.'

My heart sank. Fanny was Laura's personal servant from Limmeridge, and the only person in the house we both trusted.

I ran upstairs to Laura's room. Her door was shut, and there was one of Sir Percival's house servants standing in front of it.

'Move away,' I said. 'Don't you see that I want to go in?'

'But you mustn't go in,' she answered. 'I have my orders.'

Wild with anger, I turned and went downstairs to find Sir Percival. He was in the library with the Count and Countess.

'Am I to understand that your wife's room is a prison?' I asked, staring him full in the face.

'Yes, that is what you are to understand,' he answered.

'Take care how you treat your wife!' I shouted furiously. 'There are laws to protect women, and I will use those laws.'

Instead of answering me, he turned to the Count. The Count looked at me with his calm, cold, grey eyes. But it was the Countess who spoke.

'Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Percival,' she said suddenly. 'But I cannot remain in a house where ladies are treated as your wife and Miss Halcombe have been treated today!'

Sir Percival stared at her in shocked silence, knowing, as I did, she would not have said this without the Count's permission.

'I agree with my wife,' the Count said quietly.

Sir Percival swore, then whispered angrily, 'All right, have your own way.' With these words he left the room.

'We have made the worst-tempered man in England see reason,' said the Count. 'Thanks to your courage, Miss Halcombe, this insulting situation is now ended.'

I tried to speak normally, but could not. The Count left the library, then returned a few minutes later to say that Lady Glyde had the freedom of her own house again. Immediately I rushed upstairs to Laura's room. She was alone inside and I was in such a hurry that I did not close the door properly behind me.

'Marian!' she said thankfully. 'How did you get here?'

'It was the Count's influence, of course,' I said.

'That horrible man!' she cried. 'He's a miserable spy!'

Just then we heard a knock on the door. It was the Countess, bringing me a handkerchief I had dropped. Her face was white, and I saw in her eyes that she had been listening at the door.

'Oh, Laura,' I said when she had gone, 'you shouldn't have called the Count a spy. We shall both regret it.'

'But he is a spy, Marian! There was someone watching me at the lake yesterday, and it was him. He told Sir Percival, who watched and waited all morning for me and Anne Catherick. But she didn't come — I found a note from her hidden in a hole in the sand. She said she'd been followed yesterday by a fat old man. He hadn't caught her, but she was afraid to come back this afternoon. She hid this note very early in the morning, and said she would see me again soon to tell me Sir Percival's secret.'

'What happened to the note?' I said. 'Have you got it?'

'No. While I was reading it, Sir Percival appeared. He took it from me and demanded to hear everything Anne Catherick had said. He held my arm so tightly! — look, see how he's bruised it. What could I do, Marian? I was helpless! I told him everything.'

I looked at the bruises on Laura's arm, and felt such furious hatred for Sir Percival that I dared not speak.

'But he didn't believe me,' Laura went on. 'He said he knew she had told me more and that he would lock me up until I had confessed the truth. Then he took me back to the house, gave orders for Fanny to leave, and locked me in my room. Oh, Marian, he was like a madman! What are we to do?'

'He is mad — mad with fear. He thinks you know his secret,' I said. 'I must act now to protect you — who knows how long I will be allowed to stay here?' I thought hard for a few minutes. 'I will write two letters and give them to Fanny to take with her. I can't trust the post-bag here any more. One for Mr Kyrle, telling him of your bruises and Sir Percival's violent behaviour.'

'And who is the other letter for?' asked Laura anxiously.

'For Mr Fairlie,' I said. 'Your lazy, selfish uncle. I'll make him invite you for a visit to Limmeridge, without your husband.'

I left her then and went to my room to write the letters. Fanny had already gone and was staying the night in the little hotel in the village, before beginning the long journey to Cumberland the next day. I decided I had time before dinner to walk to the village and back, so I slipped quietly out of the house and set off.

From time to time I looked behind me. Was I being followed? Or was my imagination playing tricks on me? By now I was suspicious of everything — every tiny sound, every shadow on the road, every breath of wind. Earlier, while writing the letters, I thought I had heard the rustle of a silk dress outside my door. I had even wondered if someone had been in my room, looking through the things in my desk. I hurried on, trying to put these thoughts out of my mind.

When I got to the little hotel, I saw Fanny in her room. She was very upset at leaving Laura, and started crying, but stopped when I told her that Lady Glyde and I needed her help.

'Here are two letters,' I said. 'Post the one addressed to Mr Kyrle in London tomorrow, and deliver the other to Mr Fairlie yourself when you get home to Limmeridge. Keep them safe!'

Fanny put the letters down the front of her dress. 'They'll stay there, miss,' she said, 'till I've done what you tell me.'


day in, day out one day after another 一天又一天地

seize v. take hold of forcibly or suddenly 紧紧抓住

illegal adj. contrary to law 不合法的

assume v. take or accept as being true, without proof 推想

growl v. murmur angrily 咕哝

put off postpone 推迟

exhaust v. use up the strength or resources of a person 筋疲力尽

postpone v. put off 推迟

footprint n. the impression left by a foot or shoe 脚印;鞋印

dismiss v. discharge from employment 辞退

hospitality n. the friendly and generous reception or entertainment of guests or strangers 热情款待

insulting adj. offending one self-respect or modesty 侮辱性的

bruise v. inflict a bruise on 使受淤伤

selfish adj. deficient in consideration for others 自私的

breath n. slight movement of air 轻风

6.湖畔之约

那天晚饭后,劳拉和我散步来到湖边。周围的环境昏暗而压抑,但至少我们可以单独在一起。

“我不愿对你有任何秘密,玛丽安,”劳拉开口说,“但是,我相信你已经猜到我婚后的生活是什么样子。在意大利,珀西瓦尔爵士跟我说了很多恶毒的话,我只能借助回忆同沃尔特·哈特里特在一起的幸福时光来寻求安慰。我得告诉你,玛丽安,珀西瓦尔爵士现在已经知道沃尔特是我所爱的人了。”

我的眼睛紧盯着她,心中仅存的一线希望也开始泯灭了。

“那是在罗马的一次聚会上,几个从伦敦来的朋友说我应该学学绘画,并向我推荐哈特里特先生。听到他的名字,我无法控制自己的感情,这些被我丈夫看到了。‘就是他,对吗?’他狞笑着问我,‘哈特里特先生的事我们走着瞧。你和他都会后悔一辈子的。’玛丽安,他抓住这件事一天又一天地折磨我。”

“噢,劳拉!”我搂住她。这都是我的错——是的,是我的错!我还记得我告诉沃尔特必须离开的时候,他脸上那惨淡绝望的表情。是我把两颗相爱的心拆开了。我这样做却成全了珀西瓦尔爵士。

成全了珀西瓦尔爵士。

*  *  *

天黑了下来,我们开始往回走。劳拉突然抓住我的胳膊,“玛丽安,你看!”

湖边有一个黑影,傍晚水面上升起的雾气遮住了我们的视线。我们开始加快脚步。

“我敢肯定有人跟踪我们,”劳拉低声说,“是男的还是女的?”她害怕得浑身发抖。

“在这样的光线里看不清,”我回答,然后大声喊道,“谁在那儿?”没有反应。

我们很快地穿过树林,回到家里。我把劳拉送上楼,然后就去查看家里的其他人都在哪儿。伯爵夫妇,仆人,管家——所有的人都在。湖边那个人影不是家里的人,那会是谁呢?

第二天,劳拉发现手镯丢了,她认为一定是丢在湖边了。她出去找手镯,我留在家里等克尔先生的信使。

1点到了。现在,我对家里的每个人都有怀疑,所以决定溜出去自己迎接信使。我尽量不让别人看见,独自来到大门口,又朝前走了一段。不一会儿,一辆马车过来了。我拦住车,问:“是去布莱克沃特庄园吗?”

一个男人探出头说:“是的,给哈尔库姆小姐送信。”

“把信给我吧,”我说,“我就是哈尔库姆小姐。”

我迫不及待地读了来信。

亲爱的哈尔库姆小姐,你的来信令我深感不安。情况很可能是只要有格莱德夫人的签字,珀西瓦尔爵士就可以借走她的20,000英镑或其中一部分,几乎可以肯定这是不合法的。任何我没有仔细看过的文件,格莱德夫人都不要签字。

此致,威廉·克尔

我满怀感激地读完信,告诉信使我明白了信的意思。正说着,福斯科伯爵突然从拐角那边走了出来,出现在我的面前。我没有任何思想准备,两眼盯着他,一句话也说不出来。信使赶车离开了,伯爵挽着我的手臂往回走。

路上,他兴致勃勃地说这说那,没有问任何关于信和信使的事,我想他已经什么都知道了。他肯定偷看了我的信,然后又放回到邮袋里,现在也知道我收到了回信。没有必要再瞒他什么,所以我什么话也不说,尽量表现得镇定。

回到庄园,我们发现珀西瓦尔爵士已经回来了,看上去情绪更加糟糕。我告诉他劳拉出去找手镯了,他生气地咕哝道:

“什么手镯不手镯的,我半小时后必须在书房见她。”

我转身朝屋里走,但听见身后伯爵对珀西瓦尔说:“我可以跟你在草坪上谈5分钟吗?”

他们俩一起走开了,我走进客厅,思考着刚发生的一切。不一会儿,门轻轻地开了,福斯科伯爵出现在门口。

“好消息,哈尔库姆小姐,”他说,“签字的事推迟了,我想你一定放心了吧。”

我还没来得及从惊讶中回过神来,他就出去了。毫无疑问,是他施加了影响才有现在的变化。他发现我给伦敦写信并且收到了回信,于是他开始干预。还有很多事需要考虑,但我实在累极了,再加上天热,我睁不开眼睛,就这么睡着了。

醒来后,我发现劳拉的一只手搭在我的肩上。

“玛丽安!湖边那个人影。我刚跟她谈过了!她是安妮·凯瑟里克。瞧,她找到了我的手镯。”

我还在半梦半醒之间,迷迷糊糊地看着她问:“安妮·凯瑟里克?”

“是的!我正在船屋里找手镯,”劳拉接着说,“一个穿白衣服的女人进来,轻声说:‘费尔利小姐,你的手镯在我这儿。你的母亲一定不希望你把它弄丢了。’我一下子跳了起来,但她的声音非常友善,我很快就不害怕了。我问她怎么认识我母亲。她告诉我她叫安妮·凯瑟里克,问我记不记得小时候有一天同她还有母亲一道去利默里奇的学校。我确实记得。我突然发现我们俩长得很相像,只是她的脸看上去苍白、消瘦、疲惫。我久病之后可能就是那个样子。‘你为什么叫我费尔利小姐?’我问她。她回答说:‘因为我喜欢费尔利这个姓,憎恨格莱德这个姓。’”

“她提到你丈夫了吗?”我问。

“她说她写完那封信以后,没有勇气再呆在利默里奇阻止我和他结婚。她害怕他找到她,再把她关进精神病院。但是现在她不怕了,因为她现在病得很厉害,就要死了。然后,玛丽安,她说她和她母亲知道一个令我丈夫非常害怕的秘密。”

“什么秘密?快说啊!”我急切地问,“什么秘密?”

“她刚要告诉我,就听见外面有响动。‘有人,’她说,‘有人在盯着我们。明天这个时间到这儿来,我再告诉你。’说完,她就推开我走了。”

“噢,劳拉,劳拉,又一个机会跑掉了!你明天一定要去,那个秘密一定非常重要。我跟你去,躲在远处不让她看见。这次可不能叫她再跑了。”

我们沉默了一会儿。然后,劳拉不安地问:“珀西瓦尔爵士怎么还没来叫我们去书房签字呢?”

“对了,我刚才忘了告诉你,”我说,“多亏了福斯科伯爵,签字的事推迟了。”

“为什么?”劳拉惊疑地问,“珀西瓦尔爵士那么急需钱,怎么会推迟呢?”

“我听珀西瓦尔爵士的律师提过另一个计划,要做一份保证三个月后还钱的文件。”

“噢,玛丽安!”她说,“那可太好了。”

“是很好,但愿这是真的。”

那天晚上,珀西瓦尔爵士对大家,尤其对劳拉,非常有礼貌,甚至可以说是非常好。这一定是伯爵的功劳,我对此很担心。这背后到底隐藏着什么?我想珀西瓦尔爵士昨天突然离开,肯定是去韦明翰找凯瑟里克太太了。他得到什么消息没有?他下一步想干什么?一个晚上,我越来越放心不下。睡觉时我对明天将要发生的事情异常担心。

*  *  *

我的担心没有错。第二天,劳拉和我商量好,午饭后她先一个人到船屋去,过一会儿我再去,尽量不让安妮·凯瑟里克看见我,以免她被我这个陌生人吓跑。

上午,珀西瓦尔爵士比往常出去得更早,连午饭也没来吃,因此我们实施计划也更容易一些。然而,我蹑手蹑脚来到船屋后面的时候,却听不到一点儿动静。我进去寻找,轻声叫着劳拉的名字。可是没有人回答,也没有人影。我来到屋外,仔细察看地面,发现沙地上有两个人的脚印——大一些的像是男人的,小一些的我敢肯定是劳拉的。船屋墙边的沙地上还有一个小坑。

我担心极了,赶忙回到庄园。我见到的第一个人是管家米切尔森太太。

“你知道格莱德夫人回来了吗?”我问。

“是的,她回来了,哈尔库姆小姐。可能出了什么不幸的事。格莱德夫人哭着跑上了楼,珀西瓦尔爵士叫我把她的仆人范妮辞退了。”

我的心一下子沉了下来。范妮是劳拉从利默里奇带来的贴身仆人,也是我们两人在这里唯一信任的人。

我跑上楼,来到劳拉的房门口。房门紧闭,珀西瓦尔的一个仆人站在门口。

“让开,”我大声说,“你没看见我要进去吗?”

“你不能进去,”仆人说,“我得听主人的吩咐。”

我肺都要气炸了,转身下楼去找珀西瓦尔爵士。他和伯爵夫妇正在书房。

“你妻子的房间是监狱吗?”我眼睛直盯着他问道。

“是的,你应该明白这点。”他回答。

“请注意你是如何对待你妻子的!”我愤怒地嚷着。“妇女受法律的保护,我会告你的。”

珀西瓦尔爵士没有接我的话,而是转向了伯爵。伯爵用他那平静、冷漠的灰眼睛看着我。但开口的是伯爵夫人。

“谢谢你的热情款待,珀西瓦尔爵士,”她突然说道。“但是,今天你的妻子和哈尔库姆小姐在这里受到如此的对待,我是不能再呆下去了!”

珀西瓦尔爵士目瞪口呆地盯着伯爵夫人,他跟我一样心里明白,没有伯爵的准许,她是不会说这番话的。

“我同意我妻子的话。”伯爵不紧不慢地说。

珀西瓦尔骂了一句,然后气哼哼地低声说:“好吧,你们要怎样就怎样吧。”说完,他走了出去。

“我们让英国脾气最坏的人明白道理了,”伯爵说,“多亏你的勇气,哈尔库姆小姐,这个令人难堪的局面终于结束了。”

我试图以正常的方式讲话,可是却做不到。伯爵走出了书房,几分钟后回来说,格莱德夫人在她自己的家里重获自由了。我立刻冲上楼来到劳拉的房间。她一个人在里面,我进去得太急了,没有关好门。

“玛丽安!”劳拉感激地说,“你是怎么进来的?”

“当然是伯爵帮的忙。”我回答。

“那个可怕的人!”她大声说,“他是个可恶的奸细!”

就在这时,我听到有人敲门。来的是伯爵夫人,她给我送刚才落在楼下的手绢。她脸色苍白,看了她的眼神,我就明白她一直在门口偷听。

“哦,劳拉,”伯爵夫人走了以后,我对劳拉说,“你不应该管伯爵叫奸细,我们都会后悔的。”

“他真的是奸细,玛丽安!昨天在湖边有人跟踪我,那人就是他。是他告诉珀西瓦尔的,珀西瓦尔整个上午都在等我和安妮·凯瑟里克。凯瑟里克没来,我在沙地小坑里找到一张纸条,上面说一个胖老头昨天跟踪她。那人没有抓住她,但是她今天下午不敢来了。她一大早就来藏了纸条,还说她会很快再来见我,告诉我珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。”

“那张纸条呢?”我问,“在你手里吗?”

“没有。我正在看的时候,珀西瓦尔爵士出现在我面前。他把纸条夺过去,要我告诉他安妮·凯瑟里克说了什么。他那么用力地抓我的手臂!——看,都青了。我能怎么办,玛丽安?我一点儿办法也没有,只好都告诉他了。”

我看着劳拉手臂上的伤,心里恨透了珀西瓦尔爵士却敢怒不敢言。

“可他还不相信我,”劳拉继续说道,“他说他知道凯瑟里克还告诉了我很多事,我不说实话,他就把我锁起来。然后他把我带回庄园,下令辞退范妮,还把我锁在房间里。噢,玛丽安,他简直像个疯子!我们该怎么办呢?”

“他是疯了——因为他害怕。他认为你知道了他的秘密,”我说,“我必须采取行动保护你——谁知道我还可以在这儿呆多久呢?”我冥思苦想了几分钟,“我要写两封信让范妮带走。我再也不能相信那个邮袋了。一封给克尔先生,告诉他你的伤和珀西瓦尔爵士的粗暴行为。”

“那另外一封呢?”劳拉迫不及待地问。

“给费尔利先生,”我回答,“你那懒惰、自私的叔叔。我要让他请你回一次利默里奇,不带你丈夫。”

离开劳拉,我回到自己的房间,开始写信。范妮已经离开了庄园,今晚住在村里的旅店,明天动身长途旅行去坎伯兰郡。我想我晚饭前有时间到旅店,然后再回来。所以,我悄悄地溜出庄园,朝村子走去。

我不时回头张望,看是否有人跟踪。或许是我的想象在作怪?现在,我开始怀疑一切——任何小的声响,路上的影子,一切风吹草动。刚才写信的时候,我觉得门外有丝绸衣服的响动。我甚至怀疑是否有人来我房间偷看过我桌子里的东西。我加快了脚步,尽量不去想这些。

来到小旅店,我在范妮的房间见到了她。离开劳拉让她难过得哭了起来。但是,当我告诉她格莱德夫人和我需要她的帮助时,她不哭了。

“这儿有两封信,”我说,“一封你明天到伦敦后寄给克尔先生,另一封你到利默里奇后亲手交给费尔利先生。一定把信收好。”

范妮把信塞到衣服里。“我把信放在这儿,小姐,”她说,“我会照你的吩咐去做。”

7
A conversation in the night

I arrived back at the house with only twenty minutes to get ready for dinner — and to slip into Laura's room to say that the letters were safely in Fanny's hands.

Laura looked pale. 'I'm not coming down to dinner,' she said. 'Sir Percival came to my door, shouting at me to tell him where Anne Catherick is.'

'At least that means he hasn't found her yet,' I said.

At dinner the Count looked hot and red in the face, and his clothes were a little untidy. Had he been out too, I wondered? He seemed troubled by some secret annoyance or anxiety, and was almost as silent as Sir Percival. At the end of the meal, when Madame Fosco and I left the table, the Count stood up too.

'Where are you going, Fosco?' Sir Percival said. 'Sit down and have another glass of wine. I want a quiet talk with you.'

'Not now, Percival. Later,' he answered.

Earlier in the day I had heard Sir Percival make the same request, and this was the second time the Count had postponed the talk. Why, I wondered? And what was it that Sir Percival wanted to discuss so urgently?

We went into the living room and Madame Fosco, usually so slow and deliberate in her movements, drank her tea at great speed and then slipped quietly out of the room. I began to leave too, but the Count stopped me, first by a request for more tea, then by asking my opinion on some music, and then by playing several noisy Italian songs on the piano. Eventually, I escaped from him and went up to Laura's room. Had she seen or heard anything of Madame Fosco, I asked? No, she had not. We talked together till ten o'clock, and then I went downstairs again to say goodnight. Sir Percival, the Count and his wife were sitting together in the living room. I noticed that Madame Fosco's face was now hot and red. Where had she been, and what had she been doing? As I looked at her, she gave a little smile, as though at some private joke.

I said goodnight to everybody, and as I left the room, I heard Sir Percival say impatiently to the Count, 'Come outside and have a smoke, Fosco.'

'With pleasure, Percival, when all the ladies have gone to bed,' replied the Count.

Up in my room, I could not stop myself thinking about this private discussion between Sir Percival and the Count, postponed all day and now, it seemed, about to take place in the silence and loneliness of the night. After a while, I went from my bedroom into my sitting room, and closed the door between the rooms. It was dark, as no candles were lit, and I looked out of the open window for some time, down into the blackness of the garden. There was a smell like rain in the still, heavy air.

Suddenly I saw two red points of light advancing in the dark and stopping below my bedroom window, inside which a candle was burning. One red point was small, the other was big. The Count smoking a cigarette, and Sir Percival smoking a cigar, I think. They could not see me in the darkness of my sitting room, so I waited to hear what they said.

'Why don't you come in and sit down?' Sir Percival said.

'Wait till we see that light go out,' replied the Count. 'When I know she's in bed, and I have checked the rooms on each side of the library, then we will talk.'

Such secrecy! I decided I must listen to this conversation, in spite of the Count's efforts to keep it private. The idea terrified me, but Laura's happiness — perhaps even her life — might depend on what I heard. How could I do it? I realized I could get out on to the flat verandah roof which ran past the bedrooms, about three feet below the windows. It was narrow, but there was room to move along it till I was above the library window. The Count and Sir Percival usually sat near the open window, smoking, and if they did, I would be able to hear them from above.

I went back to my bedroom, put on a long dark cloak with a hood, and put out the candle. Then, after a while, I returned to my sitting room and climbed out of the window on to the verandah roof. My heart began to beat very fast. I had to pass five windows — four were dark, but the fifth window was the Countess's room, and it looked out over the exact place above the library where I planned to sit. And there was still a light in it. I crept along the roof, then went down on my hands and knees to pass her window. As I passed, I looked up — and saw her shadow against the thin curtains at the window...

I stop breathing. Has she heard me? Will she look out? No, the shadow moves away, she's gone. Now I move to my position at the edge of the roof and begin to listen. Are they there, or have they gone elsewhere for their talk? Ah, I can hear the Count's voice.

'Miss Halcombe's light is out, the rooms next door are empty, the only window with a light in is my wife's — so now we may talk. We are at a serious crisis in our affairs, Percival, and we must decide about the future tonight.'

'It's a worse crisis than you think,' growls Sir Percival.

'Listen, Percival. This is our situation. We both came to this house in need of money and the only way of getting it was with the help of your wife. Now what did I tell you? I told you never to lose your temper with her, and especially never with her sister, Miss Halcombe. And have you remembered this? Not once. Your mad temper lost your wife's signature, lost the ready money, made Miss Halcombe write to the lawyer for the first time —'

'First time! Has she written again?'

'Yes, she has written again today.'

What! How does he know that? Did he follow me to the hotel? But even if he did, he couldn't have seen the letters — they went straight from my hand to Fanny's dress. So how does he know?

'You're lucky,' the Count continues, 'that you have me in the house to undo the harm that you do. Lucky that I said no when you were mad enough to make your wife a prisoner and keep her from Miss Halcombe. Can't you see that Miss Halcombe has the courage and understanding of a man? How I admire that woman! But she stands like a rock between us and that pretty little wife of yours. Now, the money. We have obtained a loan — a horribly expensive loan — by signing a document promising to repay it in three months. When the time comes, is there really no way to repay the money except by the help of your wife?'

'None.'

'What money do you actually get from your wife at present?'

'Only the income from her twenty thousand pounds.'

'Do you expect any more from your wife?'

'Absolutely nothing — except in the case of her death.'

'Aha! In the case of her death.'

A pause. It has begun to rain, and already I feel wet and cold.

Sir Percival again. 'If she leaves no children, I get her twenty thousand pounds.'

'Percival! Do you care about your wife?'

'Fosco! That's a very direct question.'

'Let's say your wife dies before the end of the summer — '

'Forget it, Fosco!'

'You would gain twenty thousand pounds.'

'Speak for yourself as well as for me, Fosco. You would also gain — my wife's death would be ten thousand pounds in your wife's pocket.'

'Percival, here is the position. If your wife lives, you pay that debt with her signature on the document. If your wife dies, you pay the debt with her death.'

The light in Madame Fosco's room goes out, and the verandah roof is now sunk in darkness. The rain continues. I Listen with every nerve in my body, memorizing word after word.

'Percival, you must now leave this matter in my hands. I have more than two months to find the solution, so let's not talk about it any more. Let me help you with your other difficulty — the difficulty that seems to have the name of Anne Catherick.'

'Look, Fosco, we may be friends, but we still have our secrets. This does not concern you. Please don't ask me about it.'

'My friend, I can respect a secret. So I won't ask you to tell me. But can I help you all the same?'

'If I don't find Anne Catherick, I'm a lost man. Both she and her mother know this — this secret. It could ruin me, Fosco. Anne Catherick has spoken to my wife and I'm sure she's told her.'

'But as your wife, surely it's in her interest to keep it a secret?'

'If she loved me, that would be true. But she's in love with someone she met before we married, a drawing teacher called Walter Hartright. And who helped Anne Catherick escape from the asylum? Hartright. Who saw her again in Cumberland? Hartright. He knows the secret, and my wife knows the secret. If they get together, they will use it against me.'

'Yes, yes, I see. Where is Mr Hartright?'

'Out of the country. He sailed for America.'

'Don't worry, then. I will deal with him if he ever comes back. Depend on it. But first we must find Anne Catherick. What about her mother? Can she be trusted?'

'It's in her interest not to tell anyone the secret.'

'Good. Now, how will I recognize Anne Catherick?'

'Easily. She's the pale, sickly likeness of my wife.'

A noise as a chair is pushed back. The Count has jumped to his feet and is walking about. He seems amazed.

'What!!! Are she and your wife related to each other?'

'Not at all.'

'And yet so alike? Well, I will know her when I see her.'

'What the devil are you laughing about, Fosco?'

'Just a thought, my good friend, just a thought. But enough for tonight. You will pay the debt and find Anne Catherick. I promise you. You can put your mind at rest, Percival.'

Not another word is spoken. I hear the library door close. I am wet to the skin, stiff and aching with the cold. At first I can't move, but slowly, painfully, I creep back to my window and climb in. As I fall on the floor, I hear the clock strike a quarter past one. Time passes. Somehow I manage to get up and put on dry clothes. I am burning hot — and shivering with cold. I know I must write down what I have heard, so I find paper and pen and write without stopping. The fever rises in me, burning, burning. I open the window for cool air...

Eight o'clock. Bright sunshine, which hammers at my eyes. My head aches, my bones ache, my skin burns, yet I cannot stop shivering. I lie down to sleep, my writing finished, and in my fever I see Count Fosco come into my room and read the pages I have written. He smiles. I am helpless — unable to move, speak, breathe... and I sink into the long, black night of illness...


untidy adj. not neat or orderly 不整齐的

deliberate adj. leisurely, unhurried 不慌不忙的

impatiently adv. lacking patience or tolerance 不耐烦地;着急地

go out put out 吹灭;熄灭

verandah n. an open area with a floor and a roof that is built on the side of a house on the ground floor 游廊

crisis n. time of danger or difficulty 危机

understanding n. the ability to understand or think 见识

memorize v. commit to memory 记住

in her interest as something that is advantageous to her 对她有利

hammer at inflict pain at 使疼痛

7.深夜密谈

我回到庄园时,只剩20分钟就要吃晚餐了——我还得溜进劳拉的房间,告诉她信已经安全地交给范妮了。

劳拉脸色苍白。“我不下楼吃晚饭了,”她说,“珀西瓦尔爵士刚来过,站在门口朝我大喊,要我告诉他安妮·凯瑟里克在哪儿。”

“这起码说明他还没找到她。”我说。

吃晚饭的时候,福斯科伯爵满脸通红,衣服也有些不整。他也出去了吗,我心里疑惑。他似乎有什么秘密的困扰,几乎和珀西瓦尔爵士一样一言不发。吃罢饭,伯爵夫人和我往外走的时候,伯爵也站起身。

“你去哪里,福斯科?”珀西瓦尔爵士问道,“坐下再喝一杯。我要同你单独谈一谈。”

“现在不行,珀西瓦尔。以后吧。”伯爵回答。

白天的时候我也听到珀西瓦尔爵士提出同样的要求,这是一天之内伯爵第二次推迟和珀西瓦尔谈话了。为什么呢?我不明白。珀西瓦尔爵士这么着急要和伯爵谈什么呢?

我们走进客厅,平常总是慢条斯理的伯爵夫人迅速地喝完茶,不声不响地走了出去。我也朝外面走,但是伯爵叫住了我。他先是要我帮他添茶,然后又问我对某些音乐的看法,还在钢琴上弹了几首闹哄哄的意大利曲子。最后,我才得以离开他,来到劳拉的房间。我问她有没有看见伯爵夫人或是听见她的动静?她说没有。我们俩一直聊到10点,我下楼跟大家道晚安。珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵夫妇都在客厅坐着。我注意到伯爵夫人的脸通红。她刚才去哪儿了,干什么去了?看到我在打量她,伯爵夫人笑了笑,好像我们两个私下开过什么玩笑似的。

我同大家道了晚安。离开客厅的时候,我听见珀西瓦尔爵士不耐烦地对伯爵说:“到外面来抽支烟,福斯科。”

“好的,珀西瓦尔。等女士们都去睡了以后。”伯爵说。

回到楼上的房间,我还在想珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵的密谈,拖了一天,到现在终于要在寂静的夜晚进行了。过了一会儿,我从卧室来到我的客厅,把房门关好。房间漆黑一片,没有点蜡烛。我透过窗子向外望了一会儿,外面的花园一片黑暗,宁静、潮湿的空气中有一种雨的味道。

突然,我看到黑暗中有两个红色的亮点在移动,然后在我卧室的窗下停住了,我卧室里点着一支蜡烛。一个亮点小,另一个大些。我想肯定是伯爵在抽烟卷,珀西瓦尔爵士在抽雪茄。我的客厅是黑的,他们看不见我。因此,我在客厅等着听他们说什么。

“为什么不进屋,坐下来谈?”珀西瓦尔爵士说。

“等到那蜡烛灭了再说,”伯爵说,“等她睡了,我再查看一下书房两边的房间,然后我们再谈。”

那么机密!不管伯爵怎样保密,我一定要听听这场谈话。这个想法使我很害怕,但是劳拉的幸福——甚或她的生命——可能都跟我听到的内容有关。我怎么去偷听呢?我想到可以从游廊的平顶上过去,平顶连着好几间卧室,比窗户大约低3英尺。顶子很窄,但还是可以过去,到达书房窗户的上面。伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士经常坐在敞开的窗子旁抽烟,如果是这样的话,我就可以从上面偷听他们的谈话了。

我回到卧室,穿上一件长长的带有兜帽的黑色斗篷,吹灭了蜡烛。呆了一会儿,我回到客厅,爬出窗户来到游廊的平顶上。我的心跳开始加速。我必须爬过五个窗子,其中四个已经没有了亮光,可第五个是伯爵夫人的房间,那儿恰好在书房上面,正是我要偷听的地方。而且,伯爵夫人的房间里还亮着烛光。我沿着平顶往前移动,然后手脚并用地爬过她的窗子。经过她窗下时,我抬头看了看——透过薄薄的窗帘看见她在窗前的身影……

我屏住呼吸。她是不是听见我在这儿了?她会向外看吗?没有,影子移开了,她走了。我来到平顶的边上,找好了偷听的位置。他们在这儿吗?会不会到别的地方去谈?啊,我听见伯爵的声音了。

“哈尔库姆小姐房间的蜡烛灭了,这两边的房间没人,唯一有亮光的窗户是我妻子的房间——好了,我们现在可以谈了。珀西瓦尔,我们的事现在出现了严重危机,今晚我们必须计划一下该怎么办。”

“事情比你想的还要糟。”珀西瓦尔爵士嘀咕着。

“听着,珀西瓦尔。这就是我们两人的处境。我们都是为了钱才到这个庄园来的,而得到钱的唯一途径是通过你的妻子。我跟你说过什么?我告诉你千万不要跟你妻子发脾气,尤其不能和她姐姐哈尔库姆小姐发脾气。可是你记住了吗?根本没有。你的坏脾气让我们失去了你妻子的签字,到手的钱没了,还让哈尔库姆小姐给律师写了第一封信——”

“第一封信?她又写信了吗?”

“是的,她今天又写信了。”

什么!他是怎么知道的?他是不是跟踪我去了旅店?但是就算他去了,也不会看到那两封信的——信是直接从我手里到了范妮的衣服里的。那他是怎么知道的呢?

“你很走运,”伯爵接着说,“有我在这儿帮你解决麻烦。你很走运,在你发疯一样把你的妻子当犯人关起来,不让她见哈尔库姆小姐的时候,我出来阻拦了你。你看不出来吗?哈尔库姆小姐具有男人一样的勇气和见识,我非常敬佩她!但是,她就像挡在我们和你那漂亮小妻子之间的一块巨石。现在说钱的问题。我们得到了一笔贷款——一笔代价极大的贷款——我们签了字,答应三个月后还钱。到时候,除了靠你妻子就没有任何办法还钱了吗?”

“没有。”

“你现在从你妻子那儿可以得到什么钱?”

“只有她那20,000英镑带来的收入。”

“你还能从你妻子身上得到更多的钱吗?”

“一分都没有——除非她死了”

“呵!除非她死了。”

谈话暂停了。天开始下雨,我感到身上又湿又冷。

珀西瓦尔爵士接着说:“如果她没留下孩子,我可以得到她那20,000英镑。”

“珀西瓦尔!你真的在乎你妻子吗?”

“福斯科!这个问题太直接了。”

“假如你妻子在夏末死去——”

“别说了,福斯科!”

“你会得到20,000英镑。”

“别光说我,还有你,福斯科。你也会受益,妻子死了,妻子口袋里就会装进10,000英镑。”

“珀西瓦尔,这就是现在的局面。如果你妻子活着,你需要得到她签字来还债;如果你妻子死了,你就用她的死来还债。”

福斯科夫人房间的烛光熄灭了,游廊顶上一团漆黑。雨还在下。我全神贯注地听着,把每个字都记在心里。

“珀西瓦尔,你现在必须把这件事交给我来办,我有两个多月的时间去想办法,现在咱们先不谈这个。让我来帮你解决另一个麻烦——那个好像和安妮·凯瑟里克这个名字有关的麻烦。”

“瞧,福斯科,我们或许是朋友,但我们都有各自的秘密。这件事与你无关。请你不要问我这件事。”

“我的朋友,我可以尊重你的秘密。我不问你的秘密是什么,但不管怎么说,我能帮你点儿什么吗?”

“假如找不到安妮·凯瑟里克,我就完了。她和她母亲都知道那个——那个秘密。那个秘密会毁了我,福斯科。安妮·凯瑟里克找过我妻子,我敢肯定她已经把秘密告诉我妻子了。”

“可是,作为你的妻子,保守这个秘密不也对她有好处吗?”

“如果她爱我,应该是这样的。但是,她爱上了一个她在我们结婚以前认识的人,一个叫沃尔特·哈特里特的绘画教师。是谁帮助安妮·凯瑟里克从精神病院逃走的?是哈特里特。又是谁在坎伯兰郡跟她见面?还是哈特里特。他知道这个秘密,我妻子也知道这个秘密。要是他们两个聚到一块儿,肯定利用这个秘密来对付我。”

“说的对,说的对,我明白了。哈特里特先生现在在哪儿?”

“在国外。他去美洲了。”

“那就不用担心了。他要是回来,我来对付他。你放心。不过我们还是要先找到安妮·凯瑟里克。她母亲呢?可信吗?”

“保守这个秘密对她有好处。”

“很好。不过我怎么才能认出安妮·凯瑟里克来?”

“这容易。她长得很像我妻子,只是脸色苍白,面容憔悴。”

我听见向后移动椅子的声响。伯爵站了起来,在屋里来回走动着,他显得非常惊讶。

alt

“什么!她跟你妻子有亲戚关系吗?”

“一点儿没有。”

“那就这么相像?我见到她会认出来的。”

“你到底在笑什么,福斯科?”

“只是一个想法,我的好朋友,一个想法而己。不过今晚就谈到这儿。你会还清债务,找到安妮·凯瑟里克的。我敢保证。你就放心吧,珀西瓦尔。”

谈话结束了。我听到书房的门关上了。我身上已经湿透,身体被冻得又僵又疼。起初整个人都动不了。我艰难地慢慢爬回我的窗边,爬进屋里。我跳到地板上时,听见钟响了,1点一刻。时间过得真快。我挣扎着起来,换上干衣服。我浑身发烫——同时也冷得打哆嗦。我明白我必须把听到的全都写下来,于是找出纸笔,开始不停地写起来。我烧得越来越厉害,浑身好像着了火。我打开窗户,让冷空气进来……

8点了。明媚的阳光使我的眼睛隐隐作痛。我头痛得非常厉害,全身酸痛,而且发烫,还不停地打哆嗦。我躺下睡觉,记录已经写完了。迷迷糊糊地,我看见福斯科伯爵进到我的房间,看了我写的东西。他笑了笑。我毫无办法——不能动,不能说话,不能呼吸……我陷入长长的昏迷,眼前一片黑暗……

8
Fever

While I lay unconscious in my illness, I knew nothing, of course, of the events happening around me. It was only much later that I learnt from other people what had happened.

When I eventually returned to Limmeridge, Fanny told me about the letters and the night she had left Blackwater.

'You left me at about seven, miss, and at nine o'clock I had another visitor — the Countess! Yes, I was so surprised. But she was very kind. She saw that I was upset at leaving and insisted on having some tea with me. So I drank my tea, and five minutes later I fainted — for the first time in my life! When I woke up, it was about half an hour later. A lady from the hotel was looking after me as the Countess had had to go home. I checked the letters in my dress, miss, and they were both there, quite safe.

'And just as you told me, in London I posted the letter to Mr Kyrle, and as soon as I got to Limmeridge, I delivered the other letter personally to Mr Fairlie. I told him all about being dismissed by Sir Percival and everything, and what had happened at the hotel, but, well, he didn't seem very interested, miss.'

That last piece of information did not surprise me in the least. Had Laura's uncle ever been interested in anybody except himself? When I went to talk to him, he was full of excuses.

'My nerves, dear Marian, remember my nerves! Yes, of course I will tell you about the letters, but please don't get excited and go around banging doors! Try to stay calm.'

'I suppose my letter about Laura upset you,' I said.

'Of course it did, dear Marian! What was I to do? You told me Laura needed to escape from her husband and to come to Limmeridge. But suppose Sir Percival had come after her? Think of the noise, the arguments, the banging of doors! That's why I wrote to you, to beg you to come here first by yourself, to talk the matter over with me.'

I never saw that letter, of course, as it arrived at Blackwater when I was unconscious with fever.

'And Mr Kyrle wrote to you as well, didn't he?' I said.

'Yes. He wrote to say he had received an envelope addressed to him in your handwriting, but which contained only a plain piece of paper without a word on it. He had written to you about it, and had received no reply. Why he expected me to explain this mystery, I had no idea. And that's what I told him.'

So helpful, I thought bitterly. But there was no point in saying anything. 'And were you surprised not to hear from me again?'

'Indeed I was, until my sister's foreign husband, that extraordinary Count Fosco, came to see me. Such a huge man!' said Mr Fairlie, his eyes closing at the memory. 'But surprisingly quiet on his feet. Anyway, he explained how ill you were, dear Marian, which was why you hadn't replied to my letter. I was extremely shocked and sorry to hear about your illness. But the Count did talk so much — I thought he would never leave!'

'And he persuaded you to write to Laura,' I said, trying to keep my voice calm and quiet.

'Yes, he urged me — in fact, practically ordered me — to invite Laura here at once. She was too nervous and upset to be of any use to you in the sick-room, he said, and the situation with Sir Percival was growing more dangerous every day. There was no trouble with the journey, because he and his wife had just rented a house in London. So Laura could travel up to London, stay the night with them, and travel on to Cumberland the next day.'

'So you wrote the letter and gave it to him,' I said.

'Where was the harm in it? In any case, I never for a moment thought that Laura would leave you alone when you were so ill. And how was I to know what shocking event was about to take place? No one could possibly say that I was to blame …'

*  *  *

I know now exactly who was to blame, but it took quite a time to put all the different pieces of information together. When I first began to be aware of my surroundings again during my recovery, I knew nothing, of course, about the letters. I knew only that I was not in my usual bedroom and there was a foreign lady looking after me. I had no idea who she was and she would not answer any of my questions. So I was very relieved a few days later when the familiar face of Mrs Michelson appeared.

'Oh, Mrs Michelson,' I said, 'I'm so glad to see you. Please tell me what's been happening.'

'You've had typhus fever, Miss Halcombe. You've been very ill. But you're getting stronger now, I'm happy to say.'

'Typhus! No wonder I feel so weak. And my sister, Lady Glyde — I do hope she didn't catch the infection?'

'No, no, she didn't.'

Mrs Michelson would not look me in the face, and I began to feel worried. Was she afraid to tell me something?

'Is my sister ill? Please, Mrs Michelson, I must know!'

'No, she's not ill. But... but she's not here. She went away yesterday to London, and is going on to Limmeridge today.'

I stared at her. Laura gone? I could not believe it. What did it mean? Had something terrible happened? I remembered the conversation I heard during the night on the verandah roof, and my heart filled with fear.

'And Sir Percival …?' I could not finish my question.

'Sir Percival left the house last night, to go abroad,' she said. 'The Count and Countess have gone to London, and the servants have all been dismissed, except for a cook and the gardener. You and I are the only people living in the house, Miss Halcombe.'

The shock of this news was so great that I felt faint. Mrs Michelson hurried to fetch me a glass of water.

'Oh, Miss Halcombe, I'm sorry,' she said. 'Try not to worry. You must rest now, and try to sleep a little.'

Later, when I felt stronger, we talked again. 'Tell me everything you can remember, from the day I fell ill,' I begged Mrs Michelson. 'I must know what happened.'

'Well, Miss Halcombe, on that first morning a servant found you, lying on your bed in a fever, holding a pen tightly in your hand. The doctor was called at once, a Mr Dawson, who said you were very ill. The Countess and I acted as your nurses — Lady Glyde wanted to help, but she was so upset at seeing you unconscious that she couldn't stop crying.

'Sir Percival and the Count were concerned about you too, though they seemed worried about something else as well. In fact, the Count spent three days down by the lake, at that old boat-house, and I remember he came in once when I was going through the hall. Sir Percival came rushing out of the library, saying, "Have you found her?" I didn't hear the answer and I have no idea who they were talking about.'

I had a very good idea who they were talking about, but it was obvious that Mrs Michelson didn't, so I said nothing.

'Your fever got worse,' Mrs Michelson went on. 'The Count said we needed a nurse to help us, so Madame Fosco took the train to London and came back with Mrs Rubelle.'

'Is that the foreign lady who was looking after me before you appeared, Mrs Michelson?' I asked.

'Yes, that's right. She didn't say very much, but she was a capable nurse. I had no complaints about her work. Mr Dawson, the doctor, was suspicious of her because she was recommended by the Count, and he didn't like the Count at all.'

'Why was that?' I asked.

'The Count had a lot of medical knowledge, you see, and he was always suggesting to Mr Dawson ways of reducing your fever. Mr Dawson called it interference and got quite angry about it. But in fact, miss, the Count recognized you had typhus fever before Mr Dawson did. He — the Count, that is — went away to London for a week, and when he came back, he took one look at you and said "Typhus". Mr Dawson sent to London for another doctor, who came and said the same thing. Then we had a very worrying ten days, when your life was in danger, but at last the doctor said you were through the worst and with good nursing care you would recover. Lady Glyde was so overcome by this happy news that she became ill herself and had to be put to bed.'

'My sister has always had delicate health,' I said.

'Yes, she's not strong. Anyway, Miss Halcombe, it was at this point that disturbing things started to happen. First, the Count and Mr Dawson argued again so fiercely that Mr Dawson left, saying he refused to offer his services any more. Next, Sir Percival told me that he was going to close the house. As soon as you and Lady Glyde were able to travel, he said, you would be going away for a change of air. He told me to dismiss all the servants, except a girl to do the cooking, and a gardener. Imagine! Just like that! I tell you, Miss Halcombe, if I hadn't felt so sorry for you and Lady Glyde, I would have resigned at once!

'The last thing was very strange indeed,' said Mrs Michelson, shaking her head. 'Sir Percival said that you and Lady Glyde would benefit from a stay at the seaside town of Torquay. He told me to go there to look for a suitable house to rent, and told me how much money I could pay. Well, I knew it wasn't enough, and I wish now that I hadn't gone, but he was my employer so I thought I had to obey his orders. I returned yesterday, after two days away, and told Sir Percival that it was impossible to find a house at such a low rent. Sir Percival showed no interest in my news at all. He just said that the Count and Countess had left Blackwater Park for their new house in London.'

Mrs Michelson looked at me anxiously. 'I think you'll find the next part of the story very upsetting,' she said. 'Poor Lady Glyde was cruelly deceived by her husband.'

'You don't surprise me,' I murmured. 'Please go on.'

'After seeing Sir Percival, I went upstairs to see you and Lady Glyde. Your sister, though still very weak, was feeling better and wanted to get up and go and visit you in your room. I helped her to dress and as we went down the passage, we met Sir Percival.

'"If you're going to see your sister, you won't find her," Sir Percival says. "She left the house yesterday with Fosco and his wife. She decided to go with them to London, on her way to Limmeridge. Mrs Rubelle went too, to look after her on the journey. You can look in her room if you don't believe me."

'I was shocked and amazed by this, and Lady Glyde's face went as white as a sheet. She almost ran down the passage and threw open the door to your room. It was empty.

'Then she cries out to Sir Percival, "Marian was much too ill to travel. Even if she did go, she would never leave without saying goodbye to me first. And why would she go to Limmeridge alone, leaving me here at Blackwater Park?"

'"Because your uncle won't receive you till he has seen your sister first," says Sir Percival. "Have you forgotten the letter he wrote to her at the beginning of her illness?"

'All through this interview, Miss Halcombe, I thought Sir Percival seemed very strange — jumpy and nervous, not at all his usual self. And now he just turned and walked away. Lady Glyde was shaking with fear, and looked at me with terror in her eyes. "Something's happened to my sister. I must follow her — I must see that she's alive and well with my own eyes. Please, Mrs Michelson, come down with me to Sir Percival. Stay with me, please!" She held my arm so tightly that I had to go with her.

'Sir Percival was in the dining room, drinking. He drank at least four glasses of wine while we were in there, Miss Halcombe. Lady Glyde was very brave, I thought. She said, "If my sister is well enough to travel, then so am I. Please allow me to follow her at once by the afternoon train."

'Sir Percival was so rude and rough with her. "You can go tomorrow," he said. "I'll write to Fosco. He can meet you at the station and you'll stay at his house overnight."

'Lady Glyde's hand began to tremble violently on my arm. "I would rather not stay at the Count's house," she said.

'Sir Percival then got very angry. "Why not?" he shouted." What's wrong with sleeping at your aunt's house? Your sister slept there last night to break her journey, and so will you. That's what your uncle, Mr Fairlie, wants you to do as well. Here — there's a letter from him. I forgot to send it up to you."

'Poor Lady Glyde was shaking so much that she gave me the letter to read to her. It was very short. I remember it, word for word: Dear Laura, please come whenever you like. Break the journey by sleeping at your aunt's house. Sorry to hear of Marian's illness. Your fond uncle, Frederick Fairlie.

'Lady Glyde didn't try to argue any more, and we went back upstairs. It seemed quite a sensible plan to me, Miss Halcombe, and I couldn't understand why Lady Glyde was so terrified of Count Fosco. She walked up and down her room, whispering, "Poor Marian — in that horrible man's power! I must find her, even if I have to follow her to Count Fosco's house."

'The next day I helped Lady Glyde get ready and went with her to the station. "If Marian has already left for Limmeridge, I won't stay at the Count's house," she told me. "I'll go and stay with Mrs Vesey, my old governess." As the train pulled away, I saw her pale, frightened face at the window. I felt so sad for her.

'Then I came back here. Imagine my surprise, Miss Halcombe, when I saw Mrs Rubelle walking in the garden! "What are you doing here?" I said. "You went to London with the Foscos and Miss Halcombe!" And then it all came out. You were still in the house. While I was out of the way in Torquay, they moved you to a room in an unused part of the house and kept you hidden. You must have been in a very deep sleep when they moved you. Perhaps they drugged you — I don't know. Then Sir Percival appeared and gave me this explanation. It was all for his wife's own good, he said. She needed a change of air, and would not have gone to Limmeridge if she had known that you were still in the house. He spoke in such a violent, angry way that I did not dare to express my opinion.

'So you see, Miss Halcombe, that was how poor Lady Glyde was deceived. It was wicked and cruel. I would have resigned my position immediately, but Sir Percival told me that Mrs Rubelle was leaving and there would be no one to look after you if I left too. So, naturally, I stayed. Sir Percival left last night, as I told you. The gardener said he seemed half mad. He called for his carriage, and drove away like an escaped criminal, saying his house was a prison and he would never return to it. I hope and pray, Miss Halcombe, that I never see that man again.'

Poor Laura — how she must have suffered! There was nothing I could do. I could not go after her as I was too weak even to stand. I hoped desperately that she had found out about the deception and would write soon to tell me that she was safe.

*  *  *

A letter came a few days later, but it was not for me, and not from Laura. It was for Mrs Michelson from Madame Fosco.

Mrs Michelson came into my room with the letter in her hand. Mr Dawson, who had agreed to be my doctor again now that the Count had gone, was behind her. I took one look at both their faces, and sat up in bed, terrified.

'What is it?' I gasped. 'You have some dreadful news for me. I can see it in your faces.'

Mrs Michelson sat down on the edge of the bed and took my hand. 'Your poor, dear sister, Lady Glyde...' she began.

The room began to darken around me, as though night was falling, and the words seemed to come from a great distance.

'... was taken seriously ill when she arrived at her aunt's house in London, and died the next day, very suddenly. She is to be buried at Limmeridge, in her mother's grave.'

*  *  *

Kind Mrs Michelson nursed me through my second illness, with Mr Dawson's help. I was not able to travel for more than three weeks, but eventually I found the strength to leave that hated house and return to Limmeridge. Mrs Michelson and I travelled together to London, where I went to see Mr Kyrle. To him I revealed the terrible suspicions in my mind about the circumstances of my sister's death. He was most concerned and promised to make enquiries for me.

I went on to Limmeridge House and a few days later Mr Kyrle wrote to me there. He had taken statements from several witnesses, he said, and was convinced that nothing suspicious had happened. He sent copies of the statements for my information. This was the one by the Count's cook, Mrs Hester Pinhorn:


I was recently employed as a cook by the Count and Countess Fosco at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. One day near the end of July, the Countess's niece, Lady Glyde, arrived at the house. She immediately fell ill. I saw her lying on the sofa, her face all white. I ran out for a doctor and came back with Mr Goodricke. He examined her and said she had a very serious heart disease. During the night she got worse. Then, at about five o'clock the next day, she lost consciousness. The doctor went in and, after putting his hand on her heart, announced that she was dead. He said that, as the Count was a foreigner, he himself would go to record the death at the district office. The Count and Countess were very badly affected by the lady's death. The lady's husband was abroad, so they arranged the funeral themselves, which took place in Cumberland.


I was still very weak from my long illness, and despair nearly overtook me at this point. I had no friend to turn to, and no idea what to do next. I went every day to the churchyard, to put flowers on the grave and to read again those sad, sad words.


In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde

Wife of Sir Percival Glyde, of Blackwater Park, Hampshire

Born 27th March 1829

Died 25th July 1850


personally adv. in person 亲自

practically adv. almost 几乎

rent v. use at a rent

typhus n. a serious infectious disease 斑疹伤寒

catch the infection be affected by the infectious disease 被传染

be through have passed 度过

fiercely adv. violently 激烈地

obey v. carry out a command 服从

jumpy adj. making sudden movements 躁动的

pull away (of a train ) leave (火车)离开;开走

drug v. to give someone a drug, esp in order to make them feel tired or go to sleep 用药麻醉

for one's good for one's interest 为了……的利益;为了……好

be convinced be certain that something is true 确信

announce v. make publicly known 宣布

overtake v. overwhelm 击垮

8.高烧

我在床上昏睡着,对周围发生了什么当然一无所知。很长时间以后,我才从别人那里得知出了什么事。

后来,我回到利默里奇,范妮告诉我那两封信的事以及她离开布莱克沃特那天晚上发生的事情。

“你从我那儿走的时候是7点钟,9点钟又来了一位客人——是伯爵夫人!没错,我非常吃惊。但她特别和善。她看出我在为离开而难过,就坚持要和我喝茶。我喝了茶,5分钟后就晕过去了——这可是我头一回晕过去!我醒的时候已经过了大约半小时。旅店的一位女士在照看我,伯爵夫人已经回去了。我检查衣服里的信,两封信都在,很安全。

“我照你说的,在伦敦把给克尔先生的信寄了出去,一到利默里奇,就把另一封信亲自交给了费尔利先生。我告诉他,我被珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了,还有在那边发生了什么以及旅店的事情,但是他好像对这些都没什么兴趣,小姐。”

对最后一点,我丝毫不觉得奇怪。劳拉的这个叔叔,除了对他自己的事还对什么有兴趣?我去找他谈的时候,他满嘴借口。

“我的神经,亲爱的玛丽安,别忘了我的神经不好!是的,我当然会告诉你信的事,可是请你不要激动,不要总那么使劲儿关门!请你保持冷静。”

“我想我写给你关于劳拉的信让你担心了吧。”我说。

“当然让我担心了,亲爱的玛丽安!我该怎么做呢?你说劳拉需要逃离她丈夫,回到利默里奇来。但是,如果珀西瓦尔爵士随后过来找她怎么办?想想那会有多少噪音、吵闹、摔门声!这就是我为什么给你写信,叫你自己先回来,跟我谈谈这件事。”

我当然没见过那封信,因为信到布莱克沃特的时候,我正发着高烧,昏睡不醒。

“克尔先生也给你写信了,是吗?”我问。

“是的,他写信给我说,他收到一个署名给他的信封,是你的笔迹,但是里面只有一张白纸,一个字也没有。他给你写过信,但没收到回音。我不明白他为什么叫解释这个迷,我就这么跟他说的。”

真是挺帮忙的,我心里恨恨地想。现在说什么也没用了。“再没接到我的来信,你不感到奇怪吗?”

“我的确感到奇怪,直到我的那个外国妹夫,福斯科伯爵过来看我,我才明白发生了什么。他可真胖!”费尔利先生闭上眼睛,陷入回忆之中,“但是他走路却很轻。他告诉我你病得非常厉害,所以没有回信。听说你生病我非常震惊,也很难过。可是,伯爵没完没了地跟我说话——我简直觉得他不想走了!”

“是他让你给劳拉写信的吧。”我尽量用平和的语气说。

“是的,他请求我——实际上是命令我——让劳拉马上回到这儿来。他说劳拉非常紧张害怕,在你的房间里也帮不了什么忙。而且珀西瓦尔爵士一天比一天危险。旅途中不会有问题,因为他和妻子刚刚在伦敦租了一栋房子,劳拉可以先到伦敦,在他们那里住一晚,第二天再赶往坎伯兰郡。”

“所以,你就写了那封信,让他拿走了?”我问。

“这有什么不好吗?不管怎样,我根本不相信劳拉会在你病重的时候丢下你不管。而且我怎么知道将要发生什么事?谁也不能把事情怪到我头上……”

*  *  *

现在我知道究竟是谁在搞鬼了,但是把各种消息都串起来颇费了一些时间。我刚从昏迷中醒来,注意到周围的时候,对信的事自然一无所知。我只知道自己不在原来的卧室,一位外国女士在旁边照顾我。我不知道她是谁,她也不回答我的任何问题。因此,几天后当米切尔森太太熟悉的脸出现在我面前时,我大大地松了一口气。

“噢,米切尔森太太,”我说,“见到你真是太高兴了。快告诉我到底发生了什么?”

“你得了斑疹伤寒,哈尔库姆小姐。你病得很厉害。不过,我很高兴你现在恢复得很好。”

“斑疹伤寒!怪不得我这么虚弱。我妹妹,格莱德夫人——我希望她没被传染吧?”

“没有,她没有被传染。”

米切尔森太太不敢正眼看我,我开始担心起来,她是不是害怕告诉我什么事情?

“我妹妹病了吗?米切尔森太太,我必须知道真相!”

“没有,她没病。不过……不过她已经不在这儿了。她昨天去了伦敦,准备今天去利默里奇。”

我盯着她。劳拉走了?我不信。这说明什么呢?出了可怕的事?我记起了在游廊顶上听到的谈话,心里充满了恐惧。

“那珀西瓦尔爵士……?”我无法把话讲完。

“珀西瓦尔爵士昨晚离开庄园,到国外去了,”她说,“伯爵夫妇去了伦敦,仆人们全都遣散了,就剩下一个厨师和一个园丁。庄园里只有你和我了,哈尔库姆小姐。”

这个消息对我的震动太大,我感到一阵眩晕,米切尔森太太赶忙去为我拿了杯水来。

“哦,哈尔库姆小姐,真抱歉,”米切尔森太太说,“你别担心,一定要好好休息,试着睡一会儿吧。”

后来,我身上有些力气了,我们又聊起来。“告诉我,自从我生病那天起都发生了什么?”我恳求米切尔森太太,“我一定要知道出了什么事。”

“好吧,哈尔库姆小姐。头一天早上,一个仆人发现你躺在床上,发着高烧,手里还紧紧握着钢笔。我们很快叫来了一位医生,道森先生。他说你病得很厉害。伯爵夫人和我一起照顾你——格莱德夫人也想帮忙,但是看到你昏迷的样子,她很难过,不住地哭。

“珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵也都为你担心,不过他们两人好像还在为别的事担心。实际上,伯爵在湖边呆了三天,就在那个老船屋里。我记得他有一次回来,我正路过大厅。这时,珀西瓦尔爵士从书房冲出来问他:‘找到她了吗?’我没听到回答,也不知道他们说的是谁。”

我非常清楚他们说的是谁,明显米切尔森太太不知道,所以我没有说话。

“你烧得越来越厉害,”米切尔森太太接着说,“伯爵说我们需要找一个护士帮忙,于是福斯科夫人坐火车去了伦敦,带回了鲁贝尔太太。”

“就是那位在你来之前照顾我的外国女士吗,米切尔森太太?”

“对,就是她。她很少说话,但很能干。我对她干活儿挑不出任何毛病。道森先生,那位医生,对她有怀疑,因为她是伯爵推荐的,而道森先生一点儿也不喜欢伯爵。”

“为什么呢?”我问。

“你知道伯爵懂得许多医学知识,他不断地向道森先生提出给你退烧的办法。道森先生非常生气,说这是干涉他的工作。但实际上,小姐,伯爵比道森先生更早地看出你得了斑疹伤寒。他——我是说伯爵——到伦敦去了一星期,回来后看了你一眼就说是‘斑疹伤寒’。道森先生从伦敦又请来一位医生,也说是斑疹伤寒。接下来的十天我们大家都非常担心,你当时有生命危险。不过最后,医生说你已经度过了危险期,只要得到精心照顾,就会好起来。听到这个好消息,格莱德夫人过于高兴,结果她自己病倒了,不得不卧床休息。”

“我妹妹的身体一直很弱。”我说。

“是的,她的身体不太好。不过,哈尔库姆小姐,就在这个时候,令人心烦的事接二连三地发生了。先是伯爵和道森先生大吵了一架,道森先生走了,他说不愿意再干了。然后,珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我他准备关闭庄园。他说等你和格莱德夫人能出门旅行了,就应该离开这里,换换环境。他让我辞退了所有的仆人,只留下一个女仆做饭,还有一个园丁。真是难以想象!就是这样!我跟你说,哈尔库姆小姐,要不是担心你和格莱德夫人,我当时马上就不干了!

“最后一件事非常奇怪,”米切尔森太太摇摇头接着说,“珀西瓦尔爵士说,你和格莱德夫人到海滨小城托基呆一段时间会对你们有好处。他叫我去那里找一栋合适的房子租下来,还告诉我只能花多少钱。唉,我知道钱不够。我现在真希望没去那个地方,但他是东家,我想我不能不听他的吩咐。我走了两天,昨天回来的。我告诉珀西瓦尔爵士用那么少的钱根本不可能租到房子。他对我的回复一点儿也不感兴趣,只是说伯爵夫妇已经离开布莱克沃特,去伦敦的新居了。”

米切尔森太太不安地看着我。“我想下面的事情一定会让你难过,”她说,“可怜的格莱德夫人让她丈夫骗惨了。”

“我不会感到惊讶的,”我轻声说,“请接着讲。”

“见过了珀西瓦尔爵士,我上楼去看你和格莱德夫人。你妹妹虽说还很虚弱,但已经好多了。她要起来到你的房间看你。我帮她穿好衣服。在走廊里我们碰到了珀西瓦尔爵士。

“‘如果你是去看你的姐姐,你不会找到她了,’珀西瓦尔爵士说,‘她昨天同福斯科夫妇离开了这里。她决定跟他们顺路到伦敦,然后去利默里奇。鲁贝尔太太也走了,她要在路上照看你姐姐。你要是不信我的话,可以到她的房间看看。’

“听到这些,我大吃一惊。格莱德夫人的脸变得煞白。她几乎在走廊里跑起来,一把推开你的房门,里面空无一人。

“然后她冲着珀西瓦尔爵士叫起来:‘玛丽安病得那么厉害,根本不能旅行。即使要去的话,她也不会不跟我道别就走。为什么她要一个人去利默里奇,把我留在布莱克沃特?’

“‘因为你叔叔要先跟你姐姐见面,再见你,’珀西瓦尔爵士说,‘难道你忘了在你姐姐刚病的时候,他写来的信了吗?’

“整个谈话中,哈尔库姆小姐,我觉得珀西瓦尔爵士显得很怪——又烦躁,又紧张,跟平时的他一点儿也不一样。说完,他就转身走开了。格莱德夫人害怕得直哆嗦,她看着我,眼睛里充满了恐惧。‘我姐姐出事了。我必须去找她,我必须亲眼看到她平安无事。米切尔森太太,请和我一起去找珀西瓦尔爵士。请陪我去!’她紧紧地抓着我的胳膊,我只好跟她一起下楼。

“珀西瓦尔爵士在餐厅喝酒,我们在的那一会儿,他就至少喝了四杯,哈尔库姆小姐。我觉得格莱德夫人很勇敢。她说:‘如果姐姐可以旅行,那我也可以。请允许我乘下午的火车去追她。’

“珀西瓦尔爵士对她非常无理、粗暴。‘你可以明天去,’他说,‘我会给福斯科写信。他会到车站接你,你晚上就住他那里。’

“格莱德夫人扶着我胳膊的手开始抖得很厉害。‘我不想住在伯爵家。’她说。

“珀西瓦尔爵士发怒了。‘为什么?’他大声嚷道,‘在你姑妈家过夜有什么不好?你姐姐昨天途中就是在那里过夜的,你也一样。这也是你叔叔费尔利先生的要求。给——这是他的信,我忘了给你了。’

“可怜的格莱德夫人哆嗦得很厉害,她把信交给我,让我念给她听。信很短,我还一字不差地记着:亲爱的劳拉,请在方便的时候回来。途中在姑妈家过夜。听说玛丽安病了,我非常难过。爱你的叔叔,弗雷德里克·费尔利。

“格莱德夫人没有再继续争下去,我们两人回到楼上。我觉得这样做很明智,哈尔库姆小姐,我不明白格莱德夫人为什么那么害怕福斯科伯爵。她在房间里走来走去,轻声自言自语:‘可怜的玛丽安——落到那个可怕的人手里!我一定要找到她,哪怕是到福斯科伯爵家里也要找到她。’

“第二天,我帮格莱德夫人准备好一切,陪她来到车站。‘如果玛丽安已经回利默里奇了,我就不住在伯爵家,’她告诉我,‘我会去找维西夫人,我原来的家庭教师。”火车开的时候,透过车窗我看到她苍白、恐慌的脸。我很为她难过。

“然后我回到这儿,竟然看到鲁贝尔太太在花园散步,哈尔库姆小姐,你知道我有多么惊讶!‘怎么在这儿?’我问,‘你不是和福斯科伯爵一家还有哈尔库姆小姐去伦敦了嘛!’后来事情慢慢都清楚了。你还在庄园。趁我去托基的时候,他们把你搬到了庄园里一个没人住的房间藏起来了。他们搬动你的时候,你肯定在昏睡。也许他们给你吃了药——我不清楚。这时,珀西瓦尔爵士过来给了我如下的解释。他说这一切都是为了他妻子好,她需要换个环境,假如她知道你还在庄园,是不会去利默里奇的。他说话时怒气冲冲的,我没敢说什么。

“你看,哈尔库姆小姐,这就是可怜的格莱德夫人受骗的经过。多么恶毒、多么不近人情。我本来要马上辞职的,但是珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我,鲁贝尔太太要走了,要是我也走的话,就没人照顾你了。这不,我就又留了下来。珀西瓦尔爵士是昨晚离开的,我刚才告诉过你。听园丁说,他跟疯了似的。他吩咐准备马车,然后仿佛落荒而逃的囚犯般驾车走了,嘴里还说什么这个家像个监狱,他再也不想回来了。我真的希望,哈尔库姆小姐,我再也不会见到那个人了。”

可怜的劳拉——她肯定受了很多罪!我现在一点儿办法也没有,也无法去追她,我现在虚弱得站都站不起来。我真的希望劳拉能够发现这个骗局,尽快地给我写信,告诉我她平安无事。

*  *  *

几天后来了一封信,但不是给我的,也不是劳拉写来的,而是福斯科夫人写给米切尔森太太的。

米切尔森太太拿着那封信走进我的房间,后面跟着道森先生,他同意继续为我看病,因为伯爵已经走了。我看到他们两人的神色,从床上坐起来,心里很害怕。

“出了什么事?”我急切地问,“你们有可怕的消息要告诉我。我从你们的脸上能看出来。”

米切尔森太太在我的床边坐下,握住我的手。“你那可怜的、亲爱的妹妹,格莱德夫人……”她说。

我的周围变得一团漆黑,就像夜色降临一样,下面的话似乎是从很遥远的地方传来的。

“……她到伦敦的姑妈家以后就病倒了,第二天就死了,死得非常突然。她将被安葬在利默里奇,她母亲的墓地。”

*  *  *

我又病倒了,好心的米切尔森太太在道森先生的帮助下精心地照顾我。三个多星期的时间里,我都无法出门旅行。但我终于恢复了体力,离开了那个令人憎恨的庄园,回到利默里奇。米切尔森太太和我一同来到伦敦,我去见了克尔先生,向他讲述了我心中对妹妹死因的怀疑。他对这件事很关心,答应为我调查。

我到利默里奇几天后,克尔先生的信也寄到了那里。他从几个证人那里获得了证词,他相信没有任何可疑的事发生。他把证词的副本寄给了我。下面是福斯科的厨师赫斯特·平霍恩太太的笔录:


我是最近受雇于福斯科伯爵夫妇的,他们住在圣约翰伍德,弗雷斯特街5号。快7月底的一天,伯爵夫人的侄女,格莱德夫人来到伯爵家。她很快就病了。我看见她躺在沙发上,脸色苍白。我跑去叫医生,找来了古德里克先生。他给她做了检查,说她得了严重的心脏病。当天夜里,她病情加重。大约第二天早上5点,她失去了知觉。医生进来,用手摸了摸她的胸口,说她已经死了。医生说,因为伯爵是外国人,所以他得亲自到地区办公室报告人口死亡。福斯科伯爵夫妇对格莱德夫人的死非常伤心。格莱德夫人的丈夫在国外,因此他们安排了葬礼的有关事宜,葬礼安排在坎伯兰郡举行。


由于长时间生病,我现在还非常虚弱,此时绝望几乎将我击垮。我找不到什么朋友可以倾诉,茫然不知下面该如何是好。每天我都去教堂墓地,去给劳拉的墓献花,一遍又一遍地读着那些令我心碎的文字。


爱妻劳拉·格莱德之墓

生于1829年3月27日

卒于1850年7月25日

汉普郡布莱克沃特庄园

珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士立

湖畔之约

PART TWO
THE STORY TOLD BY MARIAN HALCOMBE
第二部分 玛丽安·哈尔库姆的讲述

4
Arrangements for a marriage

It was a sad day when Walter Hartright left us. Laura stayed in her room all day, and I felt sad and depressed. Poor Mr Gilmore must have had a dull time, and the next morning, when Laura reappeared looking pale and ill, I thought he seemed rather anxious about her. I was anxious too. Laura is such a sensitive and loving person that it was no surprise to me to find that she had grown fond of Walter. Indeed, I have grown fond of him myself. But I honestly believe that time will cure Laura of these feelings.

Two days after Walter left, Sir Percival Glyde arrived. He is forty-five years old but seems younger. He is handsome, and only a little bald, has perfect manners, and is pleasant, agreeable, and respectful. I really must try to like him.

In the afternoon, while Laura was out of the room, Sir Percival referred to Anne Catherick's letter.

'I read Mr Gilmore's letter to my lawyer,' he said, 'and I want to give you a full explanation. Mrs Catherick, you see, worked for me and my family for many years. Her marriage was unfortunate, in that her husband deserted her, and her only child, a girl, became mentally ill and needed to be put in an asylum. So, in recognition of Mrs Catherick's services, I agreed to pay the expenses of a private asylum for the girl. Unfortunately, the girl discovered this and consequently developed a hatred for me. She recently escaped from the asylum and I'm sure she wrote this letter because of her hatred for me. It's all very sad.'

Mr Gilmore found this explanation perfectly satisfactory, and said so. He then looked at me for agreement, but I was struggling with a sense of unease that I could not explain, and hesitated before answering. Sir Percival noticed this at once.

'May I beg you, Miss Halcombe,' he said politely, 'to write to Mrs Catherick to ask if these facts are true?'

I did not want to agree to this, but how could I refuse, without making the situation even more embarrassing than it already was? So I went to the desk, wrote a note, and gave it to him. Without looking at it, he put it in an envelope and wrote the address.

'Now that is done,' he said, 'may I ask if Anne Catherick spoke to Miss Fairlie, or to you?'

'No. She spoke to nobody except Mr Hartright,' I replied.

'Ah, yes, the drawing teacher,' he said thoughtfully. 'And did you discover where Anne Catherick was staying?'

I described the farm to him.

'It is my duty to try to find her,' he continued. 'Tomorrow I will go to this farm and make enquiries.' Soon afterwards he left to go up to his room.

*  *  *

That evening and the next day Sir Percival took every opportunity to bring Laura into the conversation, but she hardly took any notice. He went to the farm to make his enquiries about Anne Catherick, but learnt nothing. Then on Wednesday a letter came from Mrs Catherick — a short, business-like letter, thanking me for my note and saying that everything Sir Percival had told me was completely correct.

Why did I still have doubts? This, surely, was enough proof for anyone, but how I wished that Walter Hartright had been there to give his opinion! At Sir Percival's request I now had to give Laura his explanation of Anne Catherick's letter. She listened quietly and showed no emotion, but I noticed that on the table near her hand was the little book of Hartright's drawings. I also had to tell her that the reason for Sir Percival's visit was to fix the day of their marriage.

'I'm afraid he will ask you to decide quite soon, Laura.'

'Oh no, Marian! I can't do that!' she said. 'Please ask him, beg him, to allow me more time. I promise to give him a final answer before the end of the year, but not yet, please, not yet.'

Sir Percival agreed to this request, and when Mr Gilmore heard about it, he arranged to have a private talk with Laura.

'I have to return to London tomorrow,' he said to me, 'and I need to discuss the financial side of this marriage with Miss Fairlie before I go. As you know, she will inherit a great deal of money and property when she becomes twenty-one next March, and I must include all this in the marriage agreement in a way that reflects Miss Fairlie's own wishes, and is also acceptable to Sir Percival.'

He had the meeting with Laura the next morning, and in the afternoon he left for London, looking rather sad and thoughtful. Wondering what had been said, I hurried up to Laura's room.

'Oh, Marian, come in,' she said. 'I need to talk to you.'

'What is it, Laura? Is it about the marriage agreement?'

'No. I couldn't even bear to discuss that with Mr Gilmore. I'm ashamed to say that all I could do was cry. He was very kind and good, Marian, and he said that he would look after everything for me. No, what I wanted to tell you was this. I cannot bear the situation any longer. I must end it.'

Her eyes were bright and she spoke with great energy. I began to feel alarmed. 'What do you wish to do, Laura darling? Do you want to be released from your promise to marry Sir Percival?'

'No,' she said simply. 'I cannot break my promise to my father. But I want to tell the truth, and I will confess to Sir Percival that I love someone else.'

'Laura! He has no right to know that!' I said in amazement.

'I cannot deceive him,' she said. 'I have thought it over carefully. After I have told him, let him do as he wishes.'

I looked into her innocent, loving eyes and could say nothing. I just put my arms around her, trying not to cry myself.

'May I speak to him tomorrow, in your presence, Marian?'

I held her tight and agreed — though I was not sure I was doing the right thing. Indeed, I was not sure of anything. I could not understand how I had failed to see how deeply she loved Walter Hartright. For the first time in my life I had made a mistake about her. Now I realized that she would love him all her life.

*  *  *

The first thing that happened the next morning did nothing to make me feel more cheerful. A letter arrived for me from poor Walter Hartright. He had decided to leave England and asked me if I could help him find employment abroad. I was then alarmed to read that since his return to London he had neither seen nor heard anything of Anne Catherick, but suspected he had been watched and followed by strange men. I was worried about his state of mind, so I immediately wrote to some friends in London to ask if they could help him find a suitable job in another country. Laura, of course, knew nothing about these letters.

Sir Percival did not join us for breakfast, but sent a message, saying he would meet us at eleven o'clock, as arranged. Laura seemed calm and unusually self-controlled. I had never seen her like this. It was almost as if love had created a new force in her character.

At exactly eleven Sir Percival knocked and entered, with anxiety and worry in every line of his face. This meeting would decide his future life, and he obviously knew it.

'You may wonder, Sir Percival,' said Laura calmly, 'if I am going to ask to be released from my promise to marry you. I am not going to ask this. I respect my father's wishes too much.'

His face relaxed a little, but I saw one of his feet nervously beating the carpet.

'No, if we are going to withdraw from our planned marriage, it will be because of your wish, Sir Percival, not mine.'

'Mine?' he said in great surprise. 'What reason could I have for withdrawing?'

'A reason that is very hard to tell you,' she answered. 'There is a change in me.'

His face went so pale that even his lips lost their colour. He turned his head to one side.

'What change?' he asked, trying to hide his nervousness.

'When the promise was made two years ago,' she said, 'my love did not belong to anyone. Will you forgive me, Sir Percival, if I tell you that it now belongs to another person?'

Her tears started to fall, and Sir Percival hid his face behind his hand, so that it was impossible to know what he was thinking. He made no answer, and my temper got the better of me.

'Sir Percival!' I said sharply. 'Have you nothing to say? You have already heard more than you have a right to hear.'

'But I didn't ask for that right,' he said, avoiding my question.

'I wish you to understand,' Laura continued, 'that I will never see this person again, and that if you leave me, you only allow me to remain a single woman for the rest of my life. All I ask is that you forgive me and keep my secret.'

'I will do both those things,' he said. Then he looked at Laura, as if he was waiting to hear more.

'I think I have said enough to give you reason to withdraw from our marriage,' she added quietly.

'No. You have said enough to make it the dearest wish of my life to marry you,' he said, getting up and advancing towards her.

Laura gave a cry of surprise, but I had more than half expected this. Every word she had spoken had shown her honesty and her innocence, but these fine qualities had destroyed her own hopes of a release. Sir Percival understood very well the priceless value of a pure and true woman. Why would he give her up now?

'I will do everything I can to earn your love,' he said, 'and perhaps in time I will win it.'

'Never!' she answered, looking more beautiful than ever. 'I will be your true and loyal wife, but never your loving wife.'

'That is enough for me. I accept your loyalty and your truth,' he said, then raised her hand to his lips and silently left the room.

Laura sat without moving. I put my arm around her. At last she said,' I must resign myself, Marian. If you write to Walter, don't tell him how unhappy I am. And if I die first, please say to him, say what I could never say myself — say I loved him!'

Then she threw herself on the sofa and cried as if her heart was breaking, until at last she fell asleep.

*  *  *

In the days that followed it seemed that nothing could prevent this miserable marriage from taking place. I tried to make Laura change her mind, but she was determined to keep her promise, and to do her duty. Mr Fairlie was, of course, very happy that the 'family worry' was now at an end and suggested that the sooner his niece got married the better. This made me very angry, but when I told Laura, I was surprised by her calm reply.

'My uncle is right. I have caused trouble and anxiety to everyone. Let Sir Percival decide on the day for our marriage.'

Sir Percival was delighted by this news, and he then left to prepare for the bride's reception at his house in Hampshire.

I thought that a change would do Laura good, so I arranged for us both to go and stay with some friends in Yorkshire. She passively agreed with my idea. I also wrote to Mr Gilmore, telling him this marriage would now take place.

The next day I received a letter from Walter Hartright, saying that my friends had got him a job on an expedition to Central America. He was going to be the artist for the expedition. He was leaving on 21st November and would be away for six months. I could only hope that this was for the best.

Laura and I then departed for Yorkshire but after only nine days there we received a letter from Mr Fairlie, calling us back to Limmeridge immediately. What could this mean, I wondered?

I found out as soon as we arrived. Mr Fairlie and Sir Percival had agreed on 22nd December for the wedding, provided that Laura also agreed. Would I please persuade her, said Mr Fairlie. His nerves were much too bad to talk to her himself.

I also found our old friend Mr Gilmore, who had come to talk to Mr Fairlie about the marriage agreement. He was leaving that day, and was anxious to speak to me alone before he left.

'I am not at all happy about the financial arrangements in the agreement, Miss Halcombe,' he said, 'but there is nothing I can do about it. I know how fond you are of your sister and I think you ought to know why I am concerned.

'As you will know,' he went on, 'there are three parts to Miss Fairlie's inheritance. Firstly, on Mr Fairlie's death, she will inherit the Limmeridge property and land, and the income from it. If she dies childless, this property will go to a cousin, but the income from it will go to her husband during his lifetime. If she has a son, everything — property and income — will go to the son. No problems there.

'Secondly, when Miss Fairlie reaches the age of twenty-one next March, she will receive the income from £10,000. This £10,000 will go to her aunt Eleanor, if Miss Fairlie dies before her aunt — which is not very likely. The reason Miss Fairlie's father did not leave the £10,000 to his sister Eleanor on his death was that he disapproved strongly of her marriage to a foreigner, even though the man was an Italian nobleman, Count Fosco.'

'Yes, Laura has told me about that,' I said.

'Well,' Mr Gilmore went on, 'there are no problems there either. But the third part of Miss Fairlie's inheritance is more difficult. Next March she will also inherit £20,000, which will be her own money completely. If she dies before her husband, the income from the £20,000 will go to Sir Percival for his lifetime, and the capital will go to their children. If there are no children to inherit the capital, Miss Fairlie can choose relations and friends to inherit the money when she dies. That's what I proposed, but Sir Percival's lawyer did not accept it. He insists that if Sir Percival survives his wife and there are no children, Sir Percival should receive the capital. In that case, nothing will go to any other member of the family, including you, Miss Halcombe.'

Mr Gilmore sighed deeply. 'I protested strongly. I tried every argument I could, but nothing would change the lawyer's mind. I've discovered, you see, that Sir Percival is always in debt and always in need of cash. My last effort has been to come here, to try and persuade Mr Fairlie to oppose this demand from Sir Percival's lawyer. I am sorry to say I have not succeeded. Mr Fairlie wishes to avoid all responsibility for his niece's marriage arrangements. He says that his niece will not die before Sir Percival anyway, so what is there to worry about?'

Mr Gilmore stood up to go and picked up his hat. 'I shall complete the agreement and send it in. I have no choice. If I don't do it, Mr Fairlie will find another lawyer who will. But I tell you, Miss Halcombe, no daughter of mine should be married to any man alive under such an agreement as I am forced to make for Miss Fairlie.'

With that, he shook my hand, and without another word he went away to catch his train back to London.

After he had gone, I tried to be sensible. Mr Fairlie was Laura's guardian and if he chose to accept this agreement, there was nothing I could do about it. It was just one more worry about this dreadful marriage. A more immediate worry was the date of the wedding. When I told Laura, she turned pale and trembled.

'Not so soon!' she cried. 'Oh, Marian, not so soon!'

'Well, let me speak to Mr Fairlie, then,' I said, ready to fight for her. 'I will try to change it.'

'No,' she said faintly. 'Too late, Marian, too late! It will only make more trouble. Please tell my uncle I agree.'

I think I would have cried if I had not been so angry. I rushed into Mr Fairlie's room and shouted loudly, 'Laura agrees to the twenty-second' — and rushed out again, banging the door noisily. I hoped I had destroyed his nerves for the whole day.

*  *  *

After this the wedding preparations began. The dressmakers came and went all the time; there was packing, and planning, and all kinds of arrangements to make. We heard every day from Sir Percival. After the wedding he proposed to take Laura to Italy for six months. They would meet a number of Sir Percival's friends there, including his best and oldest friend, Count Fosco, whose wife, of course, was Laura's Aunt Eleanor. At least this marriage would bring Laura and her aunt together again, I thought. The Count himself sounded a most interesting person, and I rather hoped that I would meet him one day.

All too quickly the days passed. Sir Percival arrived, looking a little tired and anxious but talking and laughing like the happiest of men. The evening after he arrived he went off to the village to ask if anyone had any news of Anne Catherick. No one had heard anything, but I had to admit that it was good of him to continue to try to help her. I have decided to try and think better of him. After all, what reason do I have to distrust him? I am sure that I could like him if I really tried.

It is getting quite easy to like him. Today I spoke to him about the dearest wish of both Laura and myself — that I should be able to live with Laura after her marriage, just as I had always lived with her before. He agreed instantly and seemed delighted with the plan. I would be the ideal, the perfect companion for his wife, he said. Yes, I am beginning to like Sir Percival very much.

*  *  *

I hate Sir Percival! He has no sensitivity, no kindness, no good feeling. Last night he whispered something in Laura's ear — she has refused to tell me what it was — and her face turned white with misery. He took no notice at all, and all my suspicions of him have returned. Is he now showing his true character? He seems more restless and nervous than before, and is often sharp and bad-tempered. I have this strange idea that something might happen to prevent the marriage — and that he is afraid of that. A foolish thought. I must forget it.

As the day of our separation grows nearer, Laura cannot bear to have me out of her sight. I must be brave and cheerful, for her sake, but my fear will not go away. Will this marriage be the one terrible mistake of her life, and the one hopeless sorrow of mine?

*  *  *

It is the twenty-second. No more time for tears. Laura is dressed, and we leave for the church. By eleven o'clock they are married. By three o'clock they are gone. I am blind with crying and can write no more...


cure v. restore to health 治愈

respectful adj. showing deference 有礼貌的

desert v. abandon 抛弃

private adj. independent; not connected with government, public service, etc. 私立的

hesitate v. show or feel uncertainty or indecision 犹豫

embarrassing adj. causing to feel awkward or self-conscious or ashamed 令人难堪的;使人尴尬的

thoughtfully adv. engaged in or given to meditation 沉思地;若有所思地

business-like adj. serious, formal 正式的

emotion n. a strong mental or instinctive feeling 情感

inherit v. receive by legal descent or succession 继承

presence n. the state or condition of being present 在场

release v. set free; liberate 解除

withdraw v. discontinue, cancel 撤出;退出

advance v. move forward 向前走

destroy v. spoil utterly 破坏

in time eventually 最终

loyal adj. true, faithful 忠贞的

resign v. give up 退让

passively adv. offering no objection 被动地;不反对

expedition n. a journey for a particular purpose 为特别目的的旅行

provided conj. on the condition that 只要

likely adj. probable 可能的

disapprove v. have or express an unfavourable opinion 反对

capital n. money used to produce more wealth 资金

protest v. make a protest against an action or proposal 抗议;反对

dreadful adj. terrible, inspiring fear or awe 可怕的

bang v. shut noisily 用力关上

distrust v. have no trust or confidence in, doubt 不相信;怀疑

instantly adv. occurring immediately 立即;即刻

ideal adj. perfect, excellent 最好的

4.准备婚事

沃尔特·哈特里特先生离开的那天,我们都很难过。劳拉一整天呆在自己的房间里不出来,我的心情也很沉闷。可怜的吉尔摩先生肯定觉得那天很无聊。第二天早晨,劳拉从房间出来的时候,面容憔悴,像是病了一场。我觉得吉尔摩先生似乎很为她担心,我也为她担心。劳拉是个敏感而深情的人,她喜欢上沃尔特我一点儿也不觉得奇怪。其实,我自己也喜欢他。但是,我真心希望时间能够治愈劳拉的情伤。

沃尔特离开两天以后,珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士来了。他45岁,但看上去比实际年龄要年轻一些。他很英俊,稍有些秃顶,举止优雅,温和有礼。我尽力让自己对这个人产生好感。

下午,劳拉不在房里的时候,珀西瓦尔爵士提到了安妮·凯瑟里克的那封信。

“我看了吉尔摩先生给我律师的信,”他说,“我想跟你们好好地解释一下。凯瑟里克太太为我和我的家庭工作了许多年,她的婚姻很不幸,她丈夫抛弃了她,她的独生女精神有毛病,需要送进精神病院。所以,为了感谢凯瑟里克太太多年来的服务,我答应承担送她女儿去一家私立精神病院的所有费用。但不幸的是,女孩知道以后,就开始对我怀恨在心。她不久前从精神病院逃走了,我敢肯定是她出于对我的仇恨写了这封信。这太让人伤心了。”

吉尔摩先生认为这个解释非常令人满意,他说完看了看我,希望我也同意他的说法。可是,我有一种说不清的不安的感觉,犹豫了一会儿,没有说话。珀西瓦尔爵士立刻注意到了我的反应。

“哈尔库姆小姐,能否请你给凯瑟里克太太写封信,问问她这些是不是真的呢?”他非常客气地说。

我不想答应他的要求,但是又怎么好拒绝呢?拒绝只能把事情弄得越来越尴尬。于是,我走到桌旁,写了封短信,然后交给了珀西瓦尔。他看也没看就把信装进信封,写上了地址。

“好了,这件事就这样了,”他说,“请问安妮·凯瑟里克跟费尔利小姐或者你谈过吗?”

“没有。她只跟哈特里特先生谈过。”我告诉他。

“噢,是了,那位绘画教师,”他若有所思地说,“你们找到安妮·凯瑟里克的住处了吗?”

我跟他讲了农场的情况。

“找到她是我的责任,”他接着说,“明天我就去农场问问。”不一会儿,他就上楼回他的房间去了。

*  *  *

那天晚上以及第二天,珀西瓦尔爵士努力寻找一切机会同劳拉讲话,但劳拉一直心不在焉。珀西瓦尔去农场调查,结果一无所获。星期三凯瑟里克太太来信了,那是一封简短而又正式的信。信中感谢我给她写信,并且说珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我的都是事实。

为什么我还是有疑问呢?这封信对谁来讲都是充分的证据,可我还是很希望沃尔特·哈特里特先生能在这儿发表一下他的看法。应珀西瓦尔爵士的要求,我得向劳拉解释一下安妮·凯瑟里克来信的事情。她静静地听着,脸上毫无表情。我注意到她手边的桌上放着哈特里特先生的画册。我还得告诉她,珀西瓦尔爵士此行的目的是要确定他们结婚的日期。

“恐怕他会让你马上做决定,劳拉。”

“噢,不行,玛丽安!我不能!”她说,“请帮我问问他,恳求他再给我些时间。我保证年底以前给他最终的答复,但是现在不行,现在不行。”

珀西瓦尔爵士答应了这个要求。吉尔摩先生得知事情的经过后,准备同劳拉单独谈谈。

“我明天必须回伦敦去,”吉尔摩先生对我说,“走之前,我需要和费尔利小姐谈一下这桩婚事的财务问题。你知道,明年3月她21岁的时候,她会继承一大笔财产,我必须把这些都写进结婚协议中去,让协议既能反映费尔利小姐的愿望,也能令珀西瓦尔爵士接受。”

转天上午,吉尔摩先生和劳拉谈了话。下午,他动身去伦敦时,看上去忧心忡忡。不知道他们都说了些什么,我连忙赶去劳拉的房间。

“噢,玛丽安,快进来,我有话跟你说。”劳拉说。

“出了什么事,劳拉?是结婚协议的事吗?”

“不是。我简直没办法跟吉尔摩先生谈这件事。我真不好意思说出口,刚才我只是一个劲儿地哭,什么也没说。吉尔摩先生非常善良,玛丽安,他告诉我,他会帮我打理一切。我现在要告诉你的是,我再也受不了这种局面了,我必须结束这种状况。”

她的眼睛很亮,语气也很坚决。我感到有些害怕,“你想要做什么,亲爱的劳拉?你要解除同珀西瓦尔爵士的婚约吗?”

“不是的,”她回答,“我不能打破对父亲的承诺。但是,我要说出真话,我要告诉珀西瓦尔爵士我爱上了别人。”

“劳拉!他无权知道这件事!”我惊讶地说。

“我不能欺骗他,”她说,“我已经想好了。我把真相告诉他,让他决定该怎么办。”

我看着她纯洁、深情的眼神,一句话也说不出来。我伸手抱住她,尽量控制自己不哭出来。

“明天我就跟他说,你跟我去,好吗,玛丽安?”

我紧紧地抱着她,答应了她的请求——我也不清楚自己做的是对是错。我对什么都没了把握。我不明白为什么我没发觉她爱沃尔特·哈特里特爱得那么深。我第一次对她做出了错误的判断。现在我知道,她会一辈子爱着他。

*  *  *

第二天早晨发生的事让我一点儿也高兴不起来,可怜的沃尔特·哈特里特来信说他决定离开英国,问我能否帮他在国外找份工作。信后面的内容使我非常担心。他回伦敦以后,既没有见到安妮·凯瑟里克,也没有打听到她的任何消息,反而觉得有陌生人在盯他的梢。我担心他情绪不稳,赶忙给几个在伦敦的朋友写信,看他们能不能帮他在国外找到一份合适的工作。当然,劳拉对信的事一无所知。

珀西瓦尔爵士没有来同我们一起吃早餐,他捎话给我们说他会按约定11点来见我们。劳拉超乎寻常的冷静、镇定。我从未见她这样过,好像爱情使她更坚强了。

11点整,珀西瓦尔爵士敲门进来。他满脸紧张和不安。这次谈话将会决定他今后的生活,他显然非常清楚这一点。

“你可能会认为我是来请求与你解除婚约的,珀西瓦尔爵士,”劳拉冷静地说,“我不是来做这样的请求的,我非常尊重父亲的意愿。”

珀西瓦尔爵士的表情放松了一些,但我看到他的一只脚在紧张地敲打着地毯。

“我不会那样做的,如果我们两人要解除婚约的话,那一定是出于你的意愿,珀西瓦尔爵士,而不会是我的。”

“我的意愿?”他吃惊地说,“我能有什么理由解除婚约呢?”

“一个很难向你启齿的理由,我这里有了些变故。”劳拉回答。

珀西瓦尔的脸色变得煞白,双唇一点儿血色都没有。他把脸转向一侧。

“什么变故?”他尽量掩饰着自己的紧张。

“两年前约定婚事的时候,我的爱不属于任何人,”劳拉接着说,“如果我告诉你,珀西瓦尔爵士,我的爱现在属于另一个人,你会原谅我吗?”

她的眼泪流了下来。珀西瓦尔爵士用手捂住了脸,让人看不出他是怎么想的。他一句话也不说,我的直脾气可受不了了。

“珀西瓦尔爵士!”我大声问道,“你不想说点儿什么吗?你已经听到了本来你无权听到的事情。”

“可我并没有要求这权利。”他回避了我的问题。

“我想告诉你,”劳拉继续说,“我再也见不到那个人了。如果你和我分手,我会终身不嫁。我只请求你原谅我,并为我保守秘密。”

“两件事我都答应。”珀西瓦尔说完,看了看劳拉,似乎等着她再说些什么。

“我想我已经讲了足够的理由让你解除婚约。”劳拉平静地说。

“不,你说了这么多,我唯一的感觉是我一生最大的愿望就是同你结婚。”说着,他起身朝劳拉走过来。

劳拉惊讶得“咦”了一声,我倒是猜到了几分他会这么说。劳拉讲的每一句话都透出她的真诚和纯洁,但是这样良好的品德却毁掉了她解脱的希望。珀西瓦尔爵士很清楚,一个纯洁、真诚的女人是无价之宝。他为什么要放弃呢?

“我会尽一切所能去赢得你的爱,也许最终我会成功的。”珀西瓦尔说。

“永远也不会的!”劳拉看上去更美了,“我会是你忠实的妻子,但永远不会爱你。”

“这就足够了。我愿意接受你的忠贞和真诚。”说罢,他拿起劳拉的手吻了吻,然后默默地走出房间。

劳拉坐在那里一动不动,我伸出手搂住她。最后她开口道:“我必须退让,玛丽安。你给沃尔特写信时,不要告诉他我不开心。假如我比他先死了,你一定对他说,说我不能亲口对他说的话——我爱他!”

说完,她扑在沙发上放声痛哭,哭得好像心都碎了一样,最后她趴在那儿睡着了。

*  *  *

接下来的日子里,好像什么也阻止不了这桩不幸的婚姻。我力图让劳拉改变主意,但她却坚持要恪守诺言,履行义务。费尔利先生自然非常高兴,因为这场“家庭烦恼”终于画上了句号。他建议他的侄女越早结婚越好。这令我很气愤,但我把这话告诉劳拉后,她的平静反应倒让我吃了一惊。

“叔叔说的对,我给大家带来了太多麻烦。让珀西瓦尔爵士决定我们的结婚日期吧。”

珀西瓦尔爵士对此非常高兴,他离开庄园回汉普郡,准备迎接新娘。

我想换一个环境肯定对劳拉有好处,于是安排我们两人到约克郡的朋友那里呆一段时间。她同意了。我还给吉尔摩先生写了信,告诉他这桩婚事可以继续了。

第二天,我收到了沃尔特·哈特里特的来信,信中说我的朋友为他找到一份工作,要到中美洲长途旅行,他做随行的画家,11月21号动身,行程6个月。我衷心希望这是最好的安排。

劳拉和我动身前往约克郡。但是,刚刚在那里住了9天,我们就收到费尔利先生的信,让我们立即返回利默里奇。这意味着什么呢,我想不出。

一回来我就明白了。费尔利先生和珀西瓦尔爵士已经把婚礼的时间定在12月22日,就等劳拉点头同意了。费尔利先生问我可不可以说服劳拉同意这个日期,他本人神经不好,无法跟她谈。

我见到了我们的老朋友吉尔摩先生,他是来同费尔利先生谈有关结婚协议的事的。他当天就要离开庄园,着急想与我单独谈谈。

“哈尔库姆小姐,我对结婚协议中的财务安排非常不满意,”他对我说,“但是我一点儿办法也没有。我知道你多么爱你的妹妹,所以我认为你应该知道我为什么担心。

“你知道,”他接着说,“费尔利小姐继承的财产包括三部分。第一,费尔利先生死后,她会继承利默里奇的财产和土地以及由此产生的收入。如果她死后没有孩子,这份财产将转到她的一个亲戚名下,但财产的收入在她丈夫在世的时候将归他所有。如果她有个儿子,所有的财产和收入都归她的儿子。这一点没有任何问题。

“第二,明年3月费尔利小姐21岁的时候,她将得到10,000英镑的收入。如果费尔利小姐在她姑妈埃莉诺之前死去,这笔钱就归她姑妈,这当然不大可能。费尔利小姐的父亲之所以死的时候没有把这10,000英镑留给他的妹妹埃莉诺,是因为他强烈反对她嫁给一个外国人,虽然那个人是位意大利贵族,福斯科伯爵。”

“是的,劳拉跟我说过这件事。”我说。

“好吧,”吉尔摩先生接着说,“这一部分也没有问题。可是第三部分就不那么简单了。明年3月,她还将继承20,000英镑,这完全是属于她个人的一笔钱。如果她先于她丈夫死去,从这20,000英镑获得的收入将属于珀西瓦尔爵士,直至他去世;而这20,000英镑本金将归他们的孩子所有。假如没有孩子继承这笔钱,费尔利小姐死的时候,可以选择亲属或朋友继承。这是我的建议。但是,珀西瓦尔爵士的律师拒不接受这一点,他坚持认为,如果珀西瓦尔爵士死在他妻子后面,同时他们又没有孩子,珀西瓦尔就应该得到这笔钱。那样的话,费尔利家族的任何其他人,包括你在内,都得不到一分钱,哈尔库姆小姐。”

吉尔摩先生长叹了一口气,“我坚决反对这样。我极力争取,但还是无法让那位律师改变主意。我发现珀西瓦尔爵士长期欠债,急需现金。我最后的努力就是来这里试图说服费尔利先生反对珀西瓦尔爵士律师的要求,非常遗憾,我没有成功。对他侄女的这桩婚事费尔利先生什么也不想管。他说他侄女不会死在珀西瓦尔爵士前面的,又有什么可担心的呢?”

吉尔摩先生站起身,拿起帽子准备离开,“我会把协议拟好,并把它寄给你们。我没别的办法,我不这样做,费尔利先生也会再找一名律师这样做的。不过,我跟你说,哈尔库姆小姐,我是不会让我女儿根据我被迫为费尔利小姐准备的这样一份协议嫁人的。”

说完,他握了握我的手,一言不发地离开这里,去赶回伦敦的火车了。

吉尔摩先生走后,我尽量保持理智。费尔利先生是劳拉的监护人,如果他愿意接受这份协议,我做什么都无济于事。这是这桩可怕婚姻的又一个令人担忧的地方。现在更紧迫的事情是结婚日期。我把结婚的日期告诉劳拉以后,她的脸色立刻变白了,身体也开始发抖。

alt

“不要这么快!”她喊道,“噢,玛丽安,不要这么快!”

“好吧,那我去和费尔利先生说,”我这样说着,已经做好了为她去抗争的准备,“我会尽力去改变这个日期。”

“算了吧,”她有气无力地说,“一切都太晚了,玛丽安,太晚了!抗争只能带来更多的麻烦。去告诉我叔叔,我同意了。”

我要不是气愤至极,肯定就会哭出声来。我冲进费尔利先生的房间,大声喊道:“劳拉同意22日结婚!”——然后冲出去,很响地甩上门。但愿我能让他的神经一整天都不得安宁。

*  *  *

这以后,婚礼的准备工作开始了。整天都有裁缝进进出出;要收拾行李,做计划,进行各种安排。我们每天都能收到珀西瓦尔爵士的来信,他提议婚礼之后带劳拉到意大利住六个月,见一些珀西瓦尔的朋友,包括他最好的老朋友福斯科伯爵。福斯科伯爵的妻子当然就是劳拉的姑妈埃莉诺。这桩婚姻起码可以让劳拉和她的姑妈重逢,我这样想着。听起来伯爵本人倒是一个非常有趣的人,我也想有朝一日能见见他。

日子很快地过去了。珀西瓦尔爵士终于来了。他看上去有些疲倦和不安,但是有说有笑的仿佛世界上最幸福的男人就是他。他来的当天晚上去了村子里,打听是否有人知道安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。虽然没人给他提供什么消息,但我必须承认他继续寻求帮助她,这是善举。我决定努力改变对他不好的看法,说到底,我有什么理由不信任他呢?我相信如果真的努力尝试,我可能会喜欢他的。

喜欢他是很容易的。今天我同他说起劳拉与我的最大愿望——在劳拉结婚之后,我和她还能像以前一样住在一起。他立刻就答应了,而且很高兴能有这样的安排。他说我将是他妻子最理想、最合适的陪伴。是啊,我开始非常喜欢珀西瓦尔爵士了。

*  *  *

我恨珀西瓦尔爵士!他不善解人意,缺乏同情心,没有好心肠。昨天晚上,他跟劳拉耳语了些什么——劳拉不愿告诉我具体内容——她的脸色变得非常难看。而他却一点儿没在意。我以前对他所有的怀疑又出现了。现在,他是不是露出了他的本来面目?他变得比以往更加焦躁不安,经常言语尖刻,发脾气。我有个奇怪的想法,是不是会有什么事阻止这桩婚姻,而又非常害怕那样的结局。这是胡思乱想,我不能当真。

我们分别的日子一天天临近了,劳拉一刻也不肯离开我。为了她,我必须勇敢些,高兴起来。但是,我的担心没有消失。这桩婚姻会成为劳拉一生的大错吗?会成为我伤心、痛苦的根源吗?

*  *  *

22日到了。时间到了,不能再哭了。劳拉梳妆打扮完毕,我们要去教堂了。11点钟,婚礼就会结束。下午3点,他们就离开这里了。我已经哭得视线模糊,无法继续写下去了……

5
A document for signature

Six long, lonely months passed, and I had little to do but think of absent friends. I received a cheerful letter from Walter Hartright after he arrived in Honduras, and just before he set off with the expedition into the forest. Since then, I have heard nothing. There was no news of Anne Catherick or Mrs Clements. Poor Mr Gilmore fell very ill and had to give up work, but his business is continued by his partner, Mr Kyrle. Mrs Vesey has moved to London to live with her sister, and Mr Fairlie, I believe, is secretly delighted to have his house free of women.

Most of all, of course, I thought about Laura. Many letters came from her, but she said very little in them. She told me she was well, but hardly mentioned her husband, and wrote not a word about Count Fosco, whom they had met in Austria, not Italy. I understood from her silence that she did not like him. All she said was that her Aunt Eleanor, Madame Fosco, was quieter and more sensible than she had used to be.

*  *  *

On 11th June I arrived at Blackwater Park, Sir Percival's family home in Hampshire. The waiting was nearly over, and how happy I was! The next day Laura and her husband would return home, together with Count Fosco and his wife, who were going to spend the summer at Blackwater.

In the morning the housekeeper, Mrs Michelson, showed me round the house. It is very old, and much of it is dusty and unused; only one part of the enormous building is comfortable enough to live in.

Later I explored the gardens and the park. The gardens are small and not well kept, and there are so many trees that the house feels shut in by them. I found a path through the trees, which after half a mile brought me to a lake. It was a damp, lonely place. The still dark waters of the lake and the long shadows from the tall trees gave it a gloomy air. Near the lake there was an old boat-house with some seats in it, so I went in and sat down for a rest.

I am not a nervous person generally but when I heard the sound of quick breathing under my seat, I jumped to my feet in alarm. In fact, it was a dog — a small black and white dog, with a bullet wound in its side. I carried the poor creature back to the house and sent for Mrs Michelson to help me.

When she came in and saw the dog lying on the floor, she cried out at once, 'Oh! That must be Mrs Catherick's dog!'

'Whose?' I asked, amazed.

'Mrs Catherick's. Do you know her? She came here to ask for news of her daughter.'

'When?'

'Yesterday. She'd heard that her daughter Anne had been seen in the neighbourhood. But no one knew anything. I suppose the dog ran away into the woods and got shot by the park-keeper.'

I tried to make my voice sound politely interested. 'I suppose you've known Mrs Catherick for some years?'

'Oh no, Miss Halcombe, I never saw her before. She lives at Welmingham, twenty-five miles away. I had heard of her, because of Sir Percival paying for her daughter to go to an asylum. But yesterday, Mrs Catherick asked me not to mention her visit to Sir Percival. That was an odd thing to say, wasn't it, Miss?'

Odd, indeed! But then we had to turn our attention to the poor dog, which, despite our efforts, died a little while later. It was a sad thing to happen on my first day at Blackwater.

*  *  *

Later that evening the travellers returned. After my first happiness at meeting Laura, I felt there was a strangeness between us and I realized she had changed. I was sure we would soon get back to normal, but she had lost her innocent openness. She was unwilling to talk about her married life, and I saw that there were no warm feelings between her husband and her. It wasn't long before she asked me about Walter — 'Have you heard from him? Is he well and happy?' — and it was clear to me that she loved him as deeply as ever.

As for Sir Percival, his manners are sharper and less pleasant. On meeting me he simply said, 'Hello, Miss Halcombe. Glad to see you again,' — and then walked past me. Little things seem to annoy him a great deal. For example, the housekeeper told him a man had called to speak to him a week ago but had left no name. Sir Percival demanded a description of the man, which poor Mrs Michelson was unable to give, and Sir Percival stormed out of the room in great anger.

Laura was certainly right about Madame Fosco. Never have I seen such a change in a woman. As Eleanor Fairlie (aged thirty-seven), she wore bright clothes, was silly and foolish, and always talked nonsense. As Madame Fosco (aged forty-three), she wears only grey or black, and sits for hours in silence, doing needlework, rolling up cigarettes for the Count, or just looking at him with the eyes of a loyal dog.

And the man who has achieved this extraordinary change, the man who has tamed this wild Englishwoman? Yes, what can I say about the Count? He looks like a man who could tame anything. If he had married me, I would have made his cigarettes, as his wife does. I would have held my tongue when he looked at me, as she holds hers.

How can I explain the power, the attraction, the force that comes from this man? There are many unlikeable or unattractive things about him. For example, he is enormously fat; he seems to have false hair; he is at least sixty years old. He is lazy, jumps at the slightest sudden sound, and has a peculiar fondness for pet animals. He has brought with him a variety of birds and a whole family of white mice, which he often kisses and calls loving names, just as a child might do.

And yet, and yet... He is fat, but moves lightly and easily, like a dancer. There is a calmness and a strength about his smooth, unlined face, and his voice is persuasive, gentle, hard to resist. His knowledge of the English language is perfect and he is a well-known expert in chemical science. He speaks in baby language to his white mice, but he talks with intelligence and charm about books in every language, and brings to his conversation experience of life in half the capitals of Europe.

But it is his eyes that I shall always remember — his cold, clear, beautiful grey eyes, eyes which held such a frightening power that I shiver even now to think of it.

I could discover very little about his past from Sir Percival. I only learnt that he had not been to Italy for years; I wondered if this was for political reasons. It seemed he had saved Sir Percival from great danger in Rome once and they had been the closest of friends ever since. It was quite clear that Sir Percival was always anxious to please him and would never go against his wishes.

I wonder whether I am afraid of him too. I certainly never saw a man I would be more sorry to have as an enemy.

*  *  *

At lunchtime, a few days after they all returned, a man called Mr Merriman arrived, asking to see Sir Percival urgently. Sir Percival had clearly not expected the visit and looked both alarmed and angry as he left the table.

Neither Laura nor I had any idea who Mr Merriman was, but the Count told us he was Sir Percival's lawyer. I wondered what had happened, as a lawyer does not usually travel from London to Hampshire unless sent for. Mr Merriman must be the bringer of important news — either good or bad.

Count Fosco obviously read my thoughts and said softly to me, 'Yes, Miss Halcombe, something has happened.'

Later in the day I was coming from my room when I saw Sir Percival and his lawyer crossing the hall downstairs. They spoke quietly, but clearly enough for their words to reach my ears.

'Yes, Sir Percival,' I heard the lawyer say, 'it all depends on Lady Glyde.'

I immediately stopped when I heard Laura's name and, although I knew it was wrong, continued to listen.

'You understand, Sir Percival, Lady Glyde must sign her name in the presence of two witnesses. If this is done in a week's time, everything will be all right. If not, I may be able to get them to accept a document promising payment in three months. But how that money is to be obtained by then... '

They went into the library and I heard no more, but it seemed that Sir Percival had a serious debt and that the solution to it depended on Laura. I immediately went to tell Laura what I had heard. She did not seem surprised.

'I was afraid of something like this,' she said, 'when I heard about that strange gentleman who called, without leaving his name. He had probably come to ask for his money. But don't worry, Marian. I won't sign anything that I might later regret.'

In the evening Sir Percival was unusually polite and pleasant to all of us. What did this mean? I thought I could guess — I was afraid Laura could guess — and I was sure Count Fosco knew. I saw Sir Percival looking at him for approval more than once during the evening. The Count was certainly aware of Sir Percival's financial problems.

The next morning Sir Percival asked Count Fosco, Laura, and myself if we would go to the library for a minute after lunch for a small business matter. Before lunch, however, we all went for a walk to the lake, stopping at the boat-house for a rest.

'Some people call the lake pretty,' said Sir Percival, pointing to the view. 'I call it ugly. It looks just the place for a murder, doesn't it? What do you think, Fosco?'

'My dear Percival,' the Count protested, 'the water is too shallow to hide a body. Only a fool would murder someone here. A wise man would choose somewhere else.'

'Wise men do not murder,' said Laura, looking at him with dislike. 'I am sure you cannot give me an example of a wise man who has been a criminal.'

'My dear lady,' said the Count, 'it is impossible to give an example, because a wise man's crime is never found out.'

As he spoke, he was playing with his white mice in their little cage, and suddenly noticed that one of them was missing. A few seconds later he found the little animal under a seat, but also found something which seemed to shock him.

'Percival,' he said, 'come here. Look at this in the sand. Blood!'

Everyone seemed alarmed, so I had to explain about the wounded dog I had found.

'Whose dog was it?' asked Sir Percival.

'The housekeeper said it was Mrs Catherick's dog,' I replied, remembering too late that the visit was meant to be kept secret.

'What the devil was Mrs Catherick doing here?'

This question came with such rudeness and anger that I turned away. Count Fosco laid his hand on Sir Percival's arm.

'My dear Percival! Gently, gently!'

To my great surprise, Sir Percival apologized to me, and Count Fosco then said, 'Why not question the housekeeper, Percival, since she seems to know all about it?'

Sir Percival took the point, and immediately left us to return to the house.

The Count seemed fascinated by Mrs Catherick and wanted to know all about her visit. I tried to say as little as possible, but Laura asked questions too, and in the end the Count knew as much as we did about Mrs Catherick and her daughter Anne. I was quite sure, from his surprise at the story, that the Count had known nothing of Anne Catherick, and uneasily I wondered why Sir Percival had not told his closest friend.

When we went back to the house, Sir Percival came to greet us. 'I am sorry to say I have to leave you. I have to drive a long way and won't be back until tomorrow. First, though, I would like to finish that little business matter. Will you come into the library? It won't take a minute.'

In the library he got a document out of a cupboard and put it on the table. It was folded in such a way that all the writing was hidden and only the places to sign were visible.

Handing a pen to Laura, he said, 'Sign there. You and Fosco are to sign afterwards, Miss Halcombe.'

'What do you want me to sign?' Laura asked quietly.

'I have no time to explain. I have to leave. It's just business,' he said angrily. 'Women don't understand business. Just sign it.'

'But surely I ought to know what I am signing.'

'I see. So you're saying you don't trust me! Is that it? What kind of a wife is that?'

To help Laura, I said, 'I am afraid I cannot be a witness if she doesn't understand what she is signing.'

Sir Percival turned to me furiously. 'How dare you! You're a guest in my house and you take my wife's side against me!'

'Control your unfortunate temper, Percival,' said the Count, and I heard him whisper to him, 'You idiot!'

But Laura had put the pen down and moved to my side.

'Lady Glyde is right,' the Count then said. 'Let the signature wait until tomorrow.'

Sir Percival swore at him, but moved away from the table.

'All right, then,' he said, 'until tomorrow. Anyway, I have to go. But you will sign tomorrow or —' He gave his wife a cold, hard stare, then went out.

As Laura and I moved to the door, the Count approached us. 'You have just seen Sir Percival at his worst,' he said. 'As his old friend, I apologize for him and promise he won't behave like that tomorrow.'

I had begun to realize that I could not hope to remain at Blackwater Park now without the influence and support of the Count, so I answered by thanking him warmly. Then I led Laura out and took her up to my room for a rest.

While we were there, she told me how cruel Sir Percival had been to her since their marriage and how unhappy she was. I tried to calm her and to find a solution to the problem of the signature. Suddenly I had the idea of writing to Mr Gilmore's partner, Mr Kyrle, and asking for his advice. In my letter I also asked him to get a messenger to bring the reply by one o'clock the next day. I then put the letter in the post-bag in the hall. Just at that moment Madame Fosco appeared and asked to speak to me in the garden. She spoke to me for a full half-hour about how much sympathy she had for me. I found this very odd indeed since she had shown very little interest in me before.

When I finally returned, I saw the Count also putting a letter in the post-bag. For some reason I decided to check my letter was properly closed, so I got it out of the bag. This was lucky, as I found the envelope had come open. How strange, I thought. Perhaps there had been something wrong with it...

Or perhaps...

No! There could be no other explanation.


absent adj. not present 不在场的

free of not containing or subject to 没有

enormous adj. very large, huge 非常大的

gloomy adj. dismal, depressing 阴暗的;阴郁的

creature n. an animal 动物

neighbourhood n. the surrounding area 附近

odd adj. extraordinary, strange 反常的;奇怪的

storm v. move violently or angrily 气愤地走

tame v. make tame 驯服

hold one's tongue be silent 不说话

enormously adv. very, quite 非常

frightening adj. terrifying 使人害怕的

go against be contrary to 反对

urgently adv. requiring immediate action or attention 急迫地

obtain v. acquire, secure 得到;获得

library n. a room containing a collection of books 书房

aware adj. conscious or having knowledge 清楚;知道

murder n. killing unlawfully with a premeditated motive 谋杀

rudeness n. being impolite or offensive 无礼

fascinated adj. showing great interest in 非常感兴趣的

fold v. bend or close something over upon itself 折叠

furiously adv. extremely angry 极度气愤地

swear v. use indecent language 骂人

stare n. a staring gaze

messenger n. a person who carries a message 信使

properly adv. fittingly; suitably 适当地

5.需要签字的文件

漫长、孤寂的六个月过去了。除去思念不在身边的朋友们,我无所事事。我收到一封沃尔特·哈特里特的来信,是他到达洪都拉斯,进入林地之前写的。从那以后,他就没有了任何消息。安妮·凯瑟里克和克莱门茨太太没有任何音信。可怜的吉尔摩先生病得很厉害,不得不停止工作。他的工作由他的合伙人克尔先生代理。维西太太搬到了伦敦,和她妹妹住在一起。我想费尔利先生一定暗自高兴这庄园里没有了女人。

我最思念的当然是劳拉。她来过许多信,但是内容都非常简单。她说她挺好的,却只字不提她丈夫,也不提福斯科伯爵。他们是在奥地利相见的,而不是在意大利。从她的沉默我看得出,她不喜欢他。她只是说到埃莉诺姑妈,就是福斯科夫人,比以前话少了,也更理智了。

*  *  *

6月11日,我来到布莱克沃特庄园,珀西瓦尔爵士在汉普郡的家。等待终于快结束了,我异常兴奋。第二天,劳拉同她丈夫就要回来了,一同来的还有福斯科伯爵夫妇,他们要在布莱克沃特度过这个夏天。

早上,管家米切尔森太太领我参观了房子。这是一幢很古老的房子,多处是厚厚的尘土,没有人住。偌大的房子只有一部分还比较舒适,可以住人。

之后,我去看了看花园和园林。花园很小,维护得也不好。这周围树木非常多,遮蔽了房子。我发现了树林中的一条小路,沿着小路走了半英里之后是一个湖。这是一个潮湿僻静的地方。平静漆黑的湖水和长长的树影使这里笼上了一层阴暗、凄凉的色彩。湖的附近有一个破旧的船屋,里面有几个座位,我走进去坐下休息。

我并不是一个胆小的人,但是听见座位底下传来急促的喘息声,我还是惊得一下子跳了起来。其实,那是只狗——一只黑白相间的小狗,身子的一侧有子弹的伤痕。我把可怜的小东西带回房子里,叫来米切尔森太太帮我。

米切尔森太太进来看见地上躺着的小狗,马上大声说:“噢,这一定是凯瑟里克太太的狗!”

“是谁的狗?”我非常吃惊地问。

“凯瑟里克太太的。你认识她吗?她来这里打听过她女儿的消息。”

“什么时候?”

“就是昨天。她听说有人在附近看见过她女儿安妮。可是没人知道这件事。我想这条狗可能跑到树林里去,让看林人给打了。”

我尽量让自己听起来不是过分好奇,“你是不是认识凯瑟里克太太好多年了?”

“噢,也不是,哈尔库姆小姐。我以前没见过她。她住在离这里25英里远的韦明翰。我听说过她,因为珀西瓦尔爵士出钱送她女儿去精神病院。但是昨天,凯瑟里克太太让我别跟珀西瓦尔爵士讲她来过的事。这有点儿怪,是吧,小姐?”

奇怪,的确奇怪!但是,我们得把注意力集中到那只小狗身上,虽然我们尽力挽救,没过多久它还是死了。我第一天到布莱克沃特就发生了一件令人伤心的事。

*  *  *

当天晚上,旅行者们都回来了。我见到劳拉的高兴劲儿刚过,就觉得我们之间有一种奇怪的感觉,我意识到她变了。我相信,我们之间很快就会像从前一样。但是她好像失去了原来的纯真和坦诚。她不愿谈自己的婚后生活,而且我发现她同她丈夫之间毫无亲密可言。她很快就向我问起沃尔特:“你收到他的信了吗?他好吗?”显而易见,她还在深深地爱着他。

至于珀西瓦尔爵士,他的脾气变得越发暴躁,越发不讨人喜欢。见到我,他只是简单地说了声“你好,哈尔库姆小姐。很高兴又见到你。”然后就从我身边走过去了。一点点小事也会让他大为恼火。举个例子,米切尔森太太告诉他一个星期前有个男人来找他,但没有留下姓名。珀西瓦尔爵士问那人什么模样,可怜的米切尔森太太说不上来,于是珀西瓦尔爵士勃然大怒,气急败坏地走出房间。

关于福斯科夫人,劳拉说得很对。我从未见过哪个女人身上会发生如此大的变化。她是埃莉诺·费尔利小姐的时候(当时她37岁),经常穿鲜亮的衣服,说傻话,做傻事。她成了福斯科夫人以后(现在她43岁),只穿灰色和黑色的衣服,而且经常几个小时坐在那里一声不吭地做针线,给伯爵卷烟或者像一条忠诚的狗一样望着伯爵。

那么,那个导致了如此变化,驯服了这么一个桀骜不驯的英国女人的男人呢?对,我该怎么描述伯爵呢?他好像可以驯服一切。假如他娶了,我也会像他妻子一样给他卷烟,我也会像她一样被他看一眼就闭上嘴。

我应该怎么解释这个男人的魔力、魅力和影响呢?其实,他身上有许多不招人喜欢的地方。比方说,他体形肥胖,似乎还戴假发,而且少说也有60岁了。他人很懒,听到任何一点儿响动都会跳起来,还特别爱养宠物。他带来各种各样的鸟和一大窝白鼠。他就像小孩子一样,时常亲吻这些宠物,用昵称叫它们。

可是,可是……他身体肥胖,但动作像舞蹈演员一样轻巧灵便。他的脸很光滑,没有皱纹;表情沉稳庄重。他的声音很柔和,有一种难以抵挡的魅力。他精通英语,还是个化学家。他用儿语对白鼠讲话,但是谈到用任何语言写作的书籍,他都睿智机敏,滔滔不绝。他到过一半欧洲国家的首都。他经常谈起在那些城市的经历。

但让我铭记在心的是他的眼睛——一双冷酷、明亮、好看的灰眼睛。他的眼睛有一种慑人的威力,我现在想起来还会打哆嗦。

关于他的过去,我从珀西瓦尔爵士那儿知道的很少。我只知道他很多年没回意大利了,不知道是不是由于政治原因。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士在罗马遇到大难,伯爵帮助他脱离了危险。从那以后,他们成了密友。很明显,珀西瓦尔爵士总是力图讨好伯爵,从不跟他对着干。

我不知道自己是不是也害怕他。但是,他是我所见过的人中我最不愿与之成为敌人的。

*  *  *

他们旅行回来几天后,吃午饭的时候,一个叫梅里曼的人来了,要求马上见珀西瓦尔爵士。看得出,珀西瓦尔没想到这个人会来,他起身出去的时候显得既吃惊又生气。

劳拉和我都不知道梅里曼先生是何许人。伯爵告诉我们他是珀西瓦尔爵士的律师。我不知道出了什么事,因为除了被唤而来,律师是不会从伦敦到汉普郡来的。梅里曼先生一定带来了什么重要消息——不管是好消息还是坏消息。

福斯科伯爵显然看出了我的心事,轻声对我说:“没错,哈尔库姆小姐,确实出事了。”

后来,我从房里出来,看见珀西瓦尔爵士和律师正穿过楼下的大厅。他们说话的声音很低,但还是清晰地传进我的耳朵里。

“是的,珀西瓦尔爵士,”我听见律师说,“一切都取决于格莱德夫人了。”

听到劳拉的名字,我马上停住了脚步。我知道这样做不好,但还是接着往下听。

“你知道,珀西瓦尔爵士,格莱德夫人必须在两个证人在场的情况下签字,只要这件事在一星期之内办妥,一切都好说。如果不行,我可以准备一份文件,向他们保证三个月后付款。可是,三个月后怎么能弄到钱呢……?”

他们走进书房,下面的话我听不见了。好像珀西瓦尔爵士欠了一大笔债,而还债就取决于劳拉。我立即把刚刚听到的消息告诉了劳拉,她看上去一点儿也不惊讶。

“我料到会出这种事,”劳拉说,“在我听说来了一位没有留下姓名的陌生人时,我就料到了。那人很可能是来要钱的。不过别怕,玛丽安,任何今后我可能后悔的文件,我都不会签的。”

那天晚上,珀西瓦尔爵士对我们大家异乎寻常地客气。这说明什么呢?我想我能猜出来——劳拉也能猜出来——而且我敢肯定福斯科伯爵清楚其中的奥秘。我注意到珀西瓦尔有好几次都用眼神征求伯爵的意见。伯爵肯定清楚珀西瓦尔爵士的经济困境。

第二天早上,珀西瓦尔爵士让福斯科伯爵、劳拉还有我午饭后到书房来一下,谈一点事情。午饭前我们一同散步来到了湖边,在船屋里歇脚。

“有人说这湖很美,”珀西瓦尔爵士指着周围的景色说,“我觉得它很丑,像个发生凶案的地方,不是吗?你觉得呢,福斯科?”

“我亲爱的珀西瓦尔,”伯爵反对道,“这里的水太浅了,根本藏不住尸体,只有傻子才在这里谋杀。聪明人会选择别的地方。”

“聪明人不会去杀人的,”劳拉一面说着,一面不高兴地看着伯爵,“我相信你找不出一个聪明人犯罪的例子。”

“亲爱的夫人,”伯爵说,“我可找不出例子,因为聪明人犯罪不会让人知道。”

伯爵一边说着,一边摆弄着小笼子里的白鼠。他突然发现少了一只,但很快在一个座位底下找到了它,同时还发现了让他大吃一惊的东西。

“珀西瓦尔,快过来。你看这沙子,上面有血!”他说。

大家都很吃惊,我不得不告诉他们我发现那只受伤的狗的事情。

“谁的狗?”珀西瓦尔爵士问。

“管家说是凯瑟里克太太的。”我回答,忽然想起来这应该是秘密,可是太晚了。

“凯瑟里克太太到这儿来干什么?”

珀西瓦尔问得既气愤又无礼,我转过身去。福斯科伯爵拍了拍珀西瓦尔的胳膊。

“亲爱的珀西瓦尔!别着急,别着急!”

出乎我的意料,珀西瓦尔给我道了歉。伯爵接着说:“为什么不问问管家呢,珀西瓦尔?她好像知道事情的来龙去脉。”

珀西瓦尔爵士接受了这个建议,马上告辞回了庄园。

伯爵似乎对凯瑟里克太太非常感兴趣,想了解她那次来的所有情况。我尽量少透露信息,可是劳拉也问这问那。最后,我们知道的关于凯瑟里克太太以及她女儿安妮的情况,伯爵全都知道了。从伯爵惊讶的表情我可以断定,在这之前他对安妮·凯瑟里克一无所知。我很纳闷,为什么珀西瓦尔爵士不告诉他的好朋友这些事。

我们回到庄园,珀西瓦尔爵士过来同我们打招呼,“很抱歉,我得跟大家告辞。我要赶很长一段路,明天才能回来。不过,我想走之前了结那件小事。到书房来好吗?一会儿就好。”

来到书房,他从柜子里取出一份文件放到桌子上。文件是叠起来的,文字部分都遮住了,只能看见签字的部分。

他把一支笔递给劳拉,说:“在这儿签字吧。哈尔库姆小姐,你和福斯科等会儿再签。”

alt

“你要我签的是什么文件?”劳拉平静地问。

“我没时间解释,我得走了,就是一份公文,”珀西瓦尔很不高兴地说,“你们女人不懂,你就签字吧。”

“我当然有理由知道我签的是什么。”

“我明白了,你的意思是你不信任我!对吗?这叫什么妻子?”

我站在劳拉一边,说:“如果她不知道签的是什么,那我恐怕无法做证人。”

珀西瓦尔爵士愤怒地转向我,“你好大的胆子!你是我的客人,可却站在我妻子一边同我作对!”

“控制一下你的臭脾气,珀西瓦尔,”伯爵说,我听他对珀西瓦尔耳语:“你这笨蛋!”

劳拉放下笔,走到我身旁。

“格莱德夫人说的对,”伯爵说,“签字的事明天再说吧。”

珀西瓦尔爵士朝他破口大骂,但还是走开了。

“那好吧,”珀西瓦尔说,“那就等明天。不管怎样,我现在得走了。但是,你明天必须签字,否则——”他恶狠狠地瞪了他妻子一眼,然后走出了房间。

劳拉和我往外走的时候,伯爵走了过来。“你们刚才看到了珀西瓦尔爵士脾气最差的样子,”他说,“作为他的老朋友,我替他道歉。我保证他明天不会这样了。”

我开始明白,现在要是没有伯爵的帮助,我是不大可能接续呆在布莱克沃特庄园的。我真心地感谢了他。然后,我拉着劳拉上楼,到我的房间休息一会儿。

在我的房间里,劳拉告诉我结婚后珀西瓦尔爵士对待她多么冷酷,她多么不开心。我努力安慰她,帮她想办法解决签字的问题。忽然,我想到了给吉尔摩先生的合伙人克尔先生写信,问问他的意见。我在信里叫他派一个信使第二天1点之前把回信带过来。写完后,我把信放到了大厅的邮袋里。就在这时,福斯科夫人走过来,约我到花园里谈谈。她跟我足足说了半个小时她有多么同情我。我觉得非常奇怪,因为她以前根本就不在意我。

我回到屋里,看到福斯科伯爵也在往邮袋里放信。不知出于什么原因,我决定查看一下我的信是不是封好了。于是,我把我的那封信拿了出来。我还真做对了,我发现信封是开着的。好奇怪呀,我心里想。也许有人在捣鬼……

也许……

没错!不会是别的原因。

6
An appointment by the lake

After dinner that evening, Laura and I went for a walk down to the lake. The atmosphere was gloomy and depressing, but at least we were alone.

'I want to have no secrets from you, Marian,' Laura said, 'but I'm sure you have already guessed what my married life is like. Sir Percival said such cruel things to me in Italy that I turned for comfort to my memories of those happy days with Walter Hartright. And I have to tell you, Marian, Sir Percival now knows that Walter is the man I loved.'

I stared at her, and what little hope I had left began to die.

'It was at a party in Rome. Some people from London said I should have drawing lessons and recommended a Mr Hartright. I could not control myself when I heard his name and my husband noticed. "So it was him, was it?" he said, with a horrible smile. "Well, we will see about Mr Hartright. You will be sorry, and so will he, to the end of your lives." And Marian, he uses this knowledge like a whip to punish me, day in, day out.'

'Oh, Laura!' I said, putting my arms around her. This was my fault — yes, my fault! I remembered the white despair of Walter's face as I told him to leave, as I tore these two young hearts apart. And I had done this for Sir Percival Glyde.

For Sir Percival Glyde.

*  *  *

It was growing dark when we set out for home, and as we left Laura seized my arm. 'Marian, look!'

By the lake was a dark figure, half hidden by the evening mist rising off the water. We began to walk quickly.

'I'm sure it's following us,' whispered Laura. 'Is it a man or a woman?' She was shaking with fear.

'It's hard to tell in this light,' I said, then called out, 'Who's there?' There was no answer.

We hurried back through the wood, and when we reached home, I sent Laura upstairs and went to find out where everyone was. The Count and his wife, the servants, the housekeeper — all were inside. The figure by the lake was no one from the house. So who could it have been?

The next day Laura discovered she had lost her bracelet and thought she must have dropped it near the lake. She went off to look for it while I waited for the messenger from Mr Kyrle.

One o'clock came. By now I was so suspicious of everyone in the house that I decided to slip out and meet the messenger myself. Taking great care not to be seen, I went down to the main gate and a little way along the road. Soon a cab appeared. I stopped it and said, 'Are you going to Blackwater Park?'

A man put his head out and said, 'Yes, with a letter for Miss Halcombe.'

'You may give the letter to me,' I said. 'I am Miss Halcombe.'

I read the letter quickly.


Dear Miss Halcombe — Your letter has caused me great anxiety. It seems very likely that Lady Glyde's signature is needed so that a Loan of all or part of her £20,000 can be made to Sir Percival. This is almost certainly illegal, and Lady Glyde should not sign any document until I have examined it first.

Sincerely, William Kyrle.


I read this very thankfully and told the messenger to say that I understood the letter. As I spoke these words, Count Fosco came round the corner and suddenly appeared in front of me. Completely taken by surprise, I stared at him speechlessly. The messenger drove away in his cab, and the Count took my arm to walk home with me.

He talked pleasantly of this and that, and asked no questions about letters or messengers, so I assumed he had found out everything. He must have read my letter, returned it to the post-bag, and now knew that I had received an answer. There was no point in trying to deceive him so I said nothing, and just tried to seem quite cool and calm.

Back at the house we found that Sir Percival had returned, in an even worse mood than before, it seemed. When I told him Laura was out looking for her bracelet, he growled,

'Bracelet or no bracelet, I shall expect to see her in the library in half an hour.'

I turned to go into the house, but behind me heard the Count saying to Sir Percival, 'May I have five minutes' talk with you, here on the grass?'

They walked off together and I went inside to the sitting room, to think over all that had happened. Before long, however, the door opened softly and the Count looked in.

'Good news, Miss Halcombe,' he said. 'The business of the signature is put off for the moment. I'm sure you are relieved.'

He went out before I had recovered from my amazement. There could be no doubt that this change was due to his influence. His discovery of my writing to London and receiving an answer had caused him to interfere. Now there was even more to think about but, exhausted by worry and the heat of the day, my eyes closed and I fell into a little sleep.

I woke to find Laura's hand on my shoulder.

'Marian! The figure at the lake. I've just spoken to her! It's Anne Catherick. Look, she found my bracelet.'

Still half asleep, I stared at her stupidly. 'Anne Catherick?'

'Yes! I was searching in the boat-house,' Laura went on, 'when a woman in a white dress came in and said quietly, "Miss Fairlie. I have your bracelet. Your mother would not want you to lose it. "I jumped up, but her voice was so kind that I wasn't afraid. I asked her how she knew my mother. She said her name was Anne Catherick and asked me if I remembered as a little girl walking with her and my mother to the school in Limmeridge one day. I did remember. Suddenly I saw that we were like each other, but her face was pale and thin and tired. It was how my face might look after a long illness. "Why do you call me Miss Fairlie?" I asked, and she answered, "Because I love the name of Fairlie and hate the name of Glyde."'

'Did she say anything about your husband?' I asked.

'She said that after she wrote the letter, she did not have the courage to stay in Limmeridge to try to prevent my marriage to him. She was afraid he would find her and shut her up in the asylum again. But she was not afraid any more because she was so ill she thought she was dying. Then, Marian, she said that she and her mother knew a secret that my husband was afraid of.'

'Yes? Go on!' I said eagerly. 'What secret?'

'She was just going to tell me, when she thought she heard a noise outside. "We are not alone," she said, "someone is watching. Come here tomorrow at this time and I will tell you." Then she pushed me to one side and disappeared.'

'Oh, Laura, Laura, another chance lost! But you must keep the appointment tomorrow. It seems so important. I will follow you at a safe distance. She must not escape this time.'

We were silent for a time. Then Laura said anxiously, 'Why hasn't Sir Percival called us to the library to sign the document?'

'Oh yes! I forgot to tell you,' I said. 'Thanks to Count Fosco, the business of the signature has been postponed.'

'But why?' Laura said, amazed. 'If Sir Percival urgently needs money, how can it be postponed?'

'I heard Sir Percival's lawyer mention a second plan — to give a document promising payment in three months.'

'Oh, Marian!' she said. 'That would be such a relief.'

'Yes, it would. Let's hope that it's true.'

That evening Sir Percival was polite, even pleasant, especially to Laura. This must have been due to the Count's influence, and it worried me. What lay behind it? I was sure that Sir Percival's sudden journey yesterday had been to Welmingham, to question Mrs Catherick. What had he learnt? What were his plans? As the evening passed, I grew more and more uneasy, and I went to bed feeling very anxious about what the next day would bring.

*  *  *

I was not wrong to be anxious. The next day Laura and I arranged that after lunch she would go alone to the boat-house, and that I would follow a little later, taking great care that Anne Catherick did not see me, in case she was frightened by the appearance of another stranger.

Sir Percival had gone out earlier in the morning and did not appear even for lunch, so it was quite easy to put our plan into action. However, when I came quietly up to the back of the boat-house, I heard no voices, no sounds of movement, nothing. Soon I was searching inside the boat-house, and softly calling Laura's name. But no one answered and no one appeared. Outside, I searched the ground for signs, and found the footprints of two people in the sand — big footprints like a man's and small footprints, which I was sure were Laura's. There was also a little hole in the sand by the wall of the boat-house.

Desperate with worry, I hurried back to the house. The first person I met was Mrs Michelson, the housekeeper.

'Do you know,' I asked, 'whether Lady Glyde has come in?'

'Yes, she has, Miss Halcombe. And I am afraid something unfortunate has happened. Lady Glyde ran upstairs in tears and Sir Percival has told me to dismiss her servant, Fanny.'

My heart sank. Fanny was Laura's personal servant from Limmeridge, and the only person in the house we both trusted.

I ran upstairs to Laura's room. Her door was shut, and there was one of Sir Percival's house servants standing in front of it.

'Move away,' I said. 'Don't you see that I want to go in?'

'But you mustn't go in,' she answered. 'I have my orders.'

Wild with anger, I turned and went downstairs to find Sir Percival. He was in the library with the Count and Countess.

'Am I to understand that your wife's room is a prison?' I asked, staring him full in the face.

'Yes, that is what you are to understand,' he answered.

'Take care how you treat your wife!' I shouted furiously. 'There are laws to protect women, and I will use those laws.'

Instead of answering me, he turned to the Count. The Count looked at me with his calm, cold, grey eyes. But it was the Countess who spoke.

'Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Percival,' she said suddenly. 'But I cannot remain in a house where ladies are treated as your wife and Miss Halcombe have been treated today!'

Sir Percival stared at her in shocked silence, knowing, as I did, she would not have said this without the Count's permission.

'I agree with my wife,' the Count said quietly.

Sir Percival swore, then whispered angrily, 'All right, have your own way.' With these words he left the room.

'We have made the worst-tempered man in England see reason,' said the Count. 'Thanks to your courage, Miss Halcombe, this insulting situation is now ended.'

I tried to speak normally, but could not. The Count left the library, then returned a few minutes later to say that Lady Glyde had the freedom of her own house again. Immediately I rushed upstairs to Laura's room. She was alone inside and I was in such a hurry that I did not close the door properly behind me.

'Marian!' she said thankfully. 'How did you get here?'

'It was the Count's influence, of course,' I said.

'That horrible man!' she cried. 'He's a miserable spy!'

Just then we heard a knock on the door. It was the Countess, bringing me a handkerchief I had dropped. Her face was white, and I saw in her eyes that she had been listening at the door.

'Oh, Laura,' I said when she had gone, 'you shouldn't have called the Count a spy. We shall both regret it.'

'But he is a spy, Marian! There was someone watching me at the lake yesterday, and it was him. He told Sir Percival, who watched and waited all morning for me and Anne Catherick. But she didn't come — I found a note from her hidden in a hole in the sand. She said she'd been followed yesterday by a fat old man. He hadn't caught her, but she was afraid to come back this afternoon. She hid this note very early in the morning, and said she would see me again soon to tell me Sir Percival's secret.'

'What happened to the note?' I said. 'Have you got it?'

'No. While I was reading it, Sir Percival appeared. He took it from me and demanded to hear everything Anne Catherick had said. He held my arm so tightly! — look, see how he's bruised it. What could I do, Marian? I was helpless! I told him everything.'

I looked at the bruises on Laura's arm, and felt such furious hatred for Sir Percival that I dared not speak.

'But he didn't believe me,' Laura went on. 'He said he knew she had told me more and that he would lock me up until I had confessed the truth. Then he took me back to the house, gave orders for Fanny to leave, and locked me in my room. Oh, Marian, he was like a madman! What are we to do?'

'He is mad — mad with fear. He thinks you know his secret,' I said. 'I must act now to protect you — who knows how long I will be allowed to stay here?' I thought hard for a few minutes. 'I will write two letters and give them to Fanny to take with her. I can't trust the post-bag here any more. One for Mr Kyrle, telling him of your bruises and Sir Percival's violent behaviour.'

'And who is the other letter for?' asked Laura anxiously.

'For Mr Fairlie,' I said. 'Your lazy, selfish uncle. I'll make him invite you for a visit to Limmeridge, without your husband.'

I left her then and went to my room to write the letters. Fanny had already gone and was staying the night in the little hotel in the village, before beginning the long journey to Cumberland the next day. I decided I had time before dinner to walk to the village and back, so I slipped quietly out of the house and set off.

From time to time I looked behind me. Was I being followed? Or was my imagination playing tricks on me? By now I was suspicious of everything — every tiny sound, every shadow on the road, every breath of wind. Earlier, while writing the letters, I thought I had heard the rustle of a silk dress outside my door. I had even wondered if someone had been in my room, looking through the things in my desk. I hurried on, trying to put these thoughts out of my mind.

When I got to the little hotel, I saw Fanny in her room. She was very upset at leaving Laura, and started crying, but stopped when I told her that Lady Glyde and I needed her help.

'Here are two letters,' I said. 'Post the one addressed to Mr Kyrle in London tomorrow, and deliver the other to Mr Fairlie yourself when you get home to Limmeridge. Keep them safe!'

Fanny put the letters down the front of her dress. 'They'll stay there, miss,' she said, 'till I've done what you tell me.'


day in, day out one day after another 一天又一天地

seize v. take hold of forcibly or suddenly 紧紧抓住

illegal adj. contrary to law 不合法的

assume v. take or accept as being true, without proof 推想

growl v. murmur angrily 咕哝

put off postpone 推迟

exhaust v. use up the strength or resources of a person 筋疲力尽

postpone v. put off 推迟

footprint n. the impression left by a foot or shoe 脚印;鞋印

dismiss v. discharge from employment 辞退

hospitality n. the friendly and generous reception or entertainment of guests or strangers 热情款待

insulting adj. offending one self-respect or modesty 侮辱性的

bruise v. inflict a bruise on 使受淤伤

selfish adj. deficient in consideration for others 自私的

breath n. slight movement of air 轻风

6.湖畔之约

那天晚饭后,劳拉和我散步来到湖边。周围的环境昏暗而压抑,但至少我们可以单独在一起。

“我不愿对你有任何秘密,玛丽安,”劳拉开口说,“但是,我相信你已经猜到我婚后的生活是什么样子。在意大利,珀西瓦尔爵士跟我说了很多恶毒的话,我只能借助回忆同沃尔特·哈特里特在一起的幸福时光来寻求安慰。我得告诉你,玛丽安,珀西瓦尔爵士现在已经知道沃尔特是我所爱的人了。”

我的眼睛紧盯着她,心中仅存的一线希望也开始泯灭了。

“那是在罗马的一次聚会上,几个从伦敦来的朋友说我应该学学绘画,并向我推荐哈特里特先生。听到他的名字,我无法控制自己的感情,这些被我丈夫看到了。‘就是他,对吗?’他狞笑着问我,‘哈特里特先生的事我们走着瞧。你和他都会后悔一辈子的。’玛丽安,他抓住这件事一天又一天地折磨我。”

“噢,劳拉!”我搂住她。这都是我的错——是的,是我的错!我还记得我告诉沃尔特必须离开的时候,他脸上那惨淡绝望的表情。是我把两颗相爱的心拆开了。我这样做却成全了珀西瓦尔爵士。

成全了珀西瓦尔爵士。

*  *  *

天黑了下来,我们开始往回走。劳拉突然抓住我的胳膊,“玛丽安,你看!”

湖边有一个黑影,傍晚水面上升起的雾气遮住了我们的视线。我们开始加快脚步。

“我敢肯定有人跟踪我们,”劳拉低声说,“是男的还是女的?”她害怕得浑身发抖。

“在这样的光线里看不清,”我回答,然后大声喊道,“谁在那儿?”没有反应。

我们很快地穿过树林,回到家里。我把劳拉送上楼,然后就去查看家里的其他人都在哪儿。伯爵夫妇,仆人,管家——所有的人都在。湖边那个人影不是家里的人,那会是谁呢?

第二天,劳拉发现手镯丢了,她认为一定是丢在湖边了。她出去找手镯,我留在家里等克尔先生的信使。

1点到了。现在,我对家里的每个人都有怀疑,所以决定溜出去自己迎接信使。我尽量不让别人看见,独自来到大门口,又朝前走了一段。不一会儿,一辆马车过来了。我拦住车,问:“是去布莱克沃特庄园吗?”

一个男人探出头说:“是的,给哈尔库姆小姐送信。”

“把信给我吧,”我说,“我就是哈尔库姆小姐。”

我迫不及待地读了来信。

亲爱的哈尔库姆小姐,你的来信令我深感不安。情况很可能是只要有格莱德夫人的签字,珀西瓦尔爵士就可以借走她的20,000英镑或其中一部分,几乎可以肯定这是不合法的。任何我没有仔细看过的文件,格莱德夫人都不要签字。

此致,威廉·克尔

我满怀感激地读完信,告诉信使我明白了信的意思。正说着,福斯科伯爵突然从拐角那边走了出来,出现在我的面前。我没有任何思想准备,两眼盯着他,一句话也说不出来。信使赶车离开了,伯爵挽着我的手臂往回走。

路上,他兴致勃勃地说这说那,没有问任何关于信和信使的事,我想他已经什么都知道了。他肯定偷看了我的信,然后又放回到邮袋里,现在也知道我收到了回信。没有必要再瞒他什么,所以我什么话也不说,尽量表现得镇定。

回到庄园,我们发现珀西瓦尔爵士已经回来了,看上去情绪更加糟糕。我告诉他劳拉出去找手镯了,他生气地咕哝道:

“什么手镯不手镯的,我半小时后必须在书房见她。”

我转身朝屋里走,但听见身后伯爵对珀西瓦尔说:“我可以跟你在草坪上谈5分钟吗?”

他们俩一起走开了,我走进客厅,思考着刚发生的一切。不一会儿,门轻轻地开了,福斯科伯爵出现在门口。

“好消息,哈尔库姆小姐,”他说,“签字的事推迟了,我想你一定放心了吧。”

我还没来得及从惊讶中回过神来,他就出去了。毫无疑问,是他施加了影响才有现在的变化。他发现我给伦敦写信并且收到了回信,于是他开始干预。还有很多事需要考虑,但我实在累极了,再加上天热,我睁不开眼睛,就这么睡着了。

醒来后,我发现劳拉的一只手搭在我的肩上。

“玛丽安!湖边那个人影。我刚跟她谈过了!她是安妮·凯瑟里克。瞧,她找到了我的手镯。”

我还在半梦半醒之间,迷迷糊糊地看着她问:“安妮·凯瑟里克?”

“是的!我正在船屋里找手镯,”劳拉接着说,“一个穿白衣服的女人进来,轻声说:‘费尔利小姐,你的手镯在我这儿。你的母亲一定不希望你把它弄丢了。’我一下子跳了起来,但她的声音非常友善,我很快就不害怕了。我问她怎么认识我母亲。她告诉我她叫安妮·凯瑟里克,问我记不记得小时候有一天同她还有母亲一道去利默里奇的学校。我确实记得。我突然发现我们俩长得很相像,只是她的脸看上去苍白、消瘦、疲惫。我久病之后可能就是那个样子。‘你为什么叫我费尔利小姐?’我问她。她回答说:‘因为我喜欢费尔利这个姓,憎恨格莱德这个姓。’”

“她提到你丈夫了吗?”我问。

“她说她写完那封信以后,没有勇气再呆在利默里奇阻止我和他结婚。她害怕他找到她,再把她关进精神病院。但是现在她不怕了,因为她现在病得很厉害,就要死了。然后,玛丽安,她说她和她母亲知道一个令我丈夫非常害怕的秘密。”

“什么秘密?快说啊!”我急切地问,“什么秘密?”

“她刚要告诉我,就听见外面有响动。‘有人,’她说,‘有人在盯着我们。明天这个时间到这儿来,我再告诉你。’说完,她就推开我走了。”

“噢,劳拉,劳拉,又一个机会跑掉了!你明天一定要去,那个秘密一定非常重要。我跟你去,躲在远处不让她看见。这次可不能叫她再跑了。”

我们沉默了一会儿。然后,劳拉不安地问:“珀西瓦尔爵士怎么还没来叫我们去书房签字呢?”

“对了,我刚才忘了告诉你,”我说,“多亏了福斯科伯爵,签字的事推迟了。”

“为什么?”劳拉惊疑地问,“珀西瓦尔爵士那么急需钱,怎么会推迟呢?”

“我听珀西瓦尔爵士的律师提过另一个计划,要做一份保证三个月后还钱的文件。”

“噢,玛丽安!”她说,“那可太好了。”

“是很好,但愿这是真的。”

那天晚上,珀西瓦尔爵士对大家,尤其对劳拉,非常有礼貌,甚至可以说是非常好。这一定是伯爵的功劳,我对此很担心。这背后到底隐藏着什么?我想珀西瓦尔爵士昨天突然离开,肯定是去韦明翰找凯瑟里克太太了。他得到什么消息没有?他下一步想干什么?一个晚上,我越来越放心不下。睡觉时我对明天将要发生的事情异常担心。

*  *  *

我的担心没有错。第二天,劳拉和我商量好,午饭后她先一个人到船屋去,过一会儿我再去,尽量不让安妮·凯瑟里克看见我,以免她被我这个陌生人吓跑。

上午,珀西瓦尔爵士比往常出去得更早,连午饭也没来吃,因此我们实施计划也更容易一些。然而,我蹑手蹑脚来到船屋后面的时候,却听不到一点儿动静。我进去寻找,轻声叫着劳拉的名字。可是没有人回答,也没有人影。我来到屋外,仔细察看地面,发现沙地上有两个人的脚印——大一些的像是男人的,小一些的我敢肯定是劳拉的。船屋墙边的沙地上还有一个小坑。

我担心极了,赶忙回到庄园。我见到的第一个人是管家米切尔森太太。

“你知道格莱德夫人回来了吗?”我问。

“是的,她回来了,哈尔库姆小姐。可能出了什么不幸的事。格莱德夫人哭着跑上了楼,珀西瓦尔爵士叫我把她的仆人范妮辞退了。”

我的心一下子沉了下来。范妮是劳拉从利默里奇带来的贴身仆人,也是我们两人在这里唯一信任的人。

我跑上楼,来到劳拉的房门口。房门紧闭,珀西瓦尔的一个仆人站在门口。

“让开,”我大声说,“你没看见我要进去吗?”

“你不能进去,”仆人说,“我得听主人的吩咐。”

我肺都要气炸了,转身下楼去找珀西瓦尔爵士。他和伯爵夫妇正在书房。

“你妻子的房间是监狱吗?”我眼睛直盯着他问道。

“是的,你应该明白这点。”他回答。

“请注意你是如何对待你妻子的!”我愤怒地嚷着。“妇女受法律的保护,我会告你的。”

珀西瓦尔爵士没有接我的话,而是转向了伯爵。伯爵用他那平静、冷漠的灰眼睛看着我。但开口的是伯爵夫人。

“谢谢你的热情款待,珀西瓦尔爵士,”她突然说道。“但是,今天你的妻子和哈尔库姆小姐在这里受到如此的对待,我是不能再呆下去了!”

珀西瓦尔爵士目瞪口呆地盯着伯爵夫人,他跟我一样心里明白,没有伯爵的准许,她是不会说这番话的。

“我同意我妻子的话。”伯爵不紧不慢地说。

珀西瓦尔骂了一句,然后气哼哼地低声说:“好吧,你们要怎样就怎样吧。”说完,他走了出去。

“我们让英国脾气最坏的人明白道理了,”伯爵说,“多亏你的勇气,哈尔库姆小姐,这个令人难堪的局面终于结束了。”

我试图以正常的方式讲话,可是却做不到。伯爵走出了书房,几分钟后回来说,格莱德夫人在她自己的家里重获自由了。我立刻冲上楼来到劳拉的房间。她一个人在里面,我进去得太急了,没有关好门。

“玛丽安!”劳拉感激地说,“你是怎么进来的?”

“当然是伯爵帮的忙。”我回答。

“那个可怕的人!”她大声说,“他是个可恶的奸细!”

就在这时,我听到有人敲门。来的是伯爵夫人,她给我送刚才落在楼下的手绢。她脸色苍白,看了她的眼神,我就明白她一直在门口偷听。

“哦,劳拉,”伯爵夫人走了以后,我对劳拉说,“你不应该管伯爵叫奸细,我们都会后悔的。”

“他真的是奸细,玛丽安!昨天在湖边有人跟踪我,那人就是他。是他告诉珀西瓦尔的,珀西瓦尔整个上午都在等我和安妮·凯瑟里克。凯瑟里克没来,我在沙地小坑里找到一张纸条,上面说一个胖老头昨天跟踪她。那人没有抓住她,但是她今天下午不敢来了。她一大早就来藏了纸条,还说她会很快再来见我,告诉我珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。”

“那张纸条呢?”我问,“在你手里吗?”

“没有。我正在看的时候,珀西瓦尔爵士出现在我面前。他把纸条夺过去,要我告诉他安妮·凯瑟里克说了什么。他那么用力地抓我的手臂!——看,都青了。我能怎么办,玛丽安?我一点儿办法也没有,只好都告诉他了。”

我看着劳拉手臂上的伤,心里恨透了珀西瓦尔爵士却敢怒不敢言。

“可他还不相信我,”劳拉继续说道,“他说他知道凯瑟里克还告诉了我很多事,我不说实话,他就把我锁起来。然后他把我带回庄园,下令辞退范妮,还把我锁在房间里。噢,玛丽安,他简直像个疯子!我们该怎么办呢?”

“他是疯了——因为他害怕。他认为你知道了他的秘密,”我说,“我必须采取行动保护你——谁知道我还可以在这儿呆多久呢?”我冥思苦想了几分钟,“我要写两封信让范妮带走。我再也不能相信那个邮袋了。一封给克尔先生,告诉他你的伤和珀西瓦尔爵士的粗暴行为。”

“那另外一封呢?”劳拉迫不及待地问。

“给费尔利先生,”我回答,“你那懒惰、自私的叔叔。我要让他请你回一次利默里奇,不带你丈夫。”

离开劳拉,我回到自己的房间,开始写信。范妮已经离开了庄园,今晚住在村里的旅店,明天动身长途旅行去坎伯兰郡。我想我晚饭前有时间到旅店,然后再回来。所以,我悄悄地溜出庄园,朝村子走去。

我不时回头张望,看是否有人跟踪。或许是我的想象在作怪?现在,我开始怀疑一切——任何小的声响,路上的影子,一切风吹草动。刚才写信的时候,我觉得门外有丝绸衣服的响动。我甚至怀疑是否有人来我房间偷看过我桌子里的东西。我加快了脚步,尽量不去想这些。

来到小旅店,我在范妮的房间见到了她。离开劳拉让她难过得哭了起来。但是,当我告诉她格莱德夫人和我需要她的帮助时,她不哭了。

“这儿有两封信,”我说,“一封你明天到伦敦后寄给克尔先生,另一封你到利默里奇后亲手交给费尔利先生。一定把信收好。”

范妮把信塞到衣服里。“我把信放在这儿,小姐,”她说,“我会照你的吩咐去做。”

7
A conversation in the night

I arrived back at the house with only twenty minutes to get ready for dinner — and to slip into Laura's room to say that the letters were safely in Fanny's hands.

Laura looked pale. 'I'm not coming down to dinner,' she said. 'Sir Percival came to my door, shouting at me to tell him where Anne Catherick is.'

'At least that means he hasn't found her yet,' I said.

At dinner the Count looked hot and red in the face, and his clothes were a little untidy. Had he been out too, I wondered? He seemed troubled by some secret annoyance or anxiety, and was almost as silent as Sir Percival. At the end of the meal, when Madame Fosco and I left the table, the Count stood up too.

'Where are you going, Fosco?' Sir Percival said. 'Sit down and have another glass of wine. I want a quiet talk with you.'

'Not now, Percival. Later,' he answered.

Earlier in the day I had heard Sir Percival make the same request, and this was the second time the Count had postponed the talk. Why, I wondered? And what was it that Sir Percival wanted to discuss so urgently?

We went into the living room and Madame Fosco, usually so slow and deliberate in her movements, drank her tea at great speed and then slipped quietly out of the room. I began to leave too, but the Count stopped me, first by a request for more tea, then by asking my opinion on some music, and then by playing several noisy Italian songs on the piano. Eventually, I escaped from him and went up to Laura's room. Had she seen or heard anything of Madame Fosco, I asked? No, she had not. We talked together till ten o'clock, and then I went downstairs again to say goodnight. Sir Percival, the Count and his wife were sitting together in the living room. I noticed that Madame Fosco's face was now hot and red. Where had she been, and what had she been doing? As I looked at her, she gave a little smile, as though at some private joke.

I said goodnight to everybody, and as I left the room, I heard Sir Percival say impatiently to the Count, 'Come outside and have a smoke, Fosco.'

'With pleasure, Percival, when all the ladies have gone to bed,' replied the Count.

Up in my room, I could not stop myself thinking about this private discussion between Sir Percival and the Count, postponed all day and now, it seemed, about to take place in the silence and loneliness of the night. After a while, I went from my bedroom into my sitting room, and closed the door between the rooms. It was dark, as no candles were lit, and I looked out of the open window for some time, down into the blackness of the garden. There was a smell like rain in the still, heavy air.

Suddenly I saw two red points of light advancing in the dark and stopping below my bedroom window, inside which a candle was burning. One red point was small, the other was big. The Count smoking a cigarette, and Sir Percival smoking a cigar, I think. They could not see me in the darkness of my sitting room, so I waited to hear what they said.

'Why don't you come in and sit down?' Sir Percival said.

'Wait till we see that light go out,' replied the Count. 'When I know she's in bed, and I have checked the rooms on each side of the library, then we will talk.'

Such secrecy! I decided I must listen to this conversation, in spite of the Count's efforts to keep it private. The idea terrified me, but Laura's happiness — perhaps even her life — might depend on what I heard. How could I do it? I realized I could get out on to the flat verandah roof which ran past the bedrooms, about three feet below the windows. It was narrow, but there was room to move along it till I was above the library window. The Count and Sir Percival usually sat near the open window, smoking, and if they did, I would be able to hear them from above.

I went back to my bedroom, put on a long dark cloak with a hood, and put out the candle. Then, after a while, I returned to my sitting room and climbed out of the window on to the verandah roof. My heart began to beat very fast. I had to pass five windows — four were dark, but the fifth window was the Countess's room, and it looked out over the exact place above the library where I planned to sit. And there was still a light in it. I crept along the roof, then went down on my hands and knees to pass her window. As I passed, I looked up — and saw her shadow against the thin curtains at the window...

I stop breathing. Has she heard me? Will she look out? No, the shadow moves away, she's gone. Now I move to my position at the edge of the roof and begin to listen. Are they there, or have they gone elsewhere for their talk? Ah, I can hear the Count's voice.

'Miss Halcombe's light is out, the rooms next door are empty, the only window with a light in is my wife's — so now we may talk. We are at a serious crisis in our affairs, Percival, and we must decide about the future tonight.'

'It's a worse crisis than you think,' growls Sir Percival.

'Listen, Percival. This is our situation. We both came to this house in need of money and the only way of getting it was with the help of your wife. Now what did I tell you? I told you never to lose your temper with her, and especially never with her sister, Miss Halcombe. And have you remembered this? Not once. Your mad temper lost your wife's signature, lost the ready money, made Miss Halcombe write to the lawyer for the first time —'

'First time! Has she written again?'

'Yes, she has written again today.'

What! How does he know that? Did he follow me to the hotel? But even if he did, he couldn't have seen the letters — they went straight from my hand to Fanny's dress. So how does he know?

'You're lucky,' the Count continues, 'that you have me in the house to undo the harm that you do. Lucky that I said no when you were mad enough to make your wife a prisoner and keep her from Miss Halcombe. Can't you see that Miss Halcombe has the courage and understanding of a man? How I admire that woman! But she stands like a rock between us and that pretty little wife of yours. Now, the money. We have obtained a loan — a horribly expensive loan — by signing a document promising to repay it in three months. When the time comes, is there really no way to repay the money except by the help of your wife?'

'None.'

'What money do you actually get from your wife at present?'

'Only the income from her twenty thousand pounds.'

'Do you expect any more from your wife?'

'Absolutely nothing — except in the case of her death.'

'Aha! In the case of her death.'

A pause. It has begun to rain, and already I feel wet and cold.

Sir Percival again. 'If she leaves no children, I get her twenty thousand pounds.'

'Percival! Do you care about your wife?'

'Fosco! That's a very direct question.'

'Let's say your wife dies before the end of the summer — '

'Forget it, Fosco!'

'You would gain twenty thousand pounds.'

'Speak for yourself as well as for me, Fosco. You would also gain — my wife's death would be ten thousand pounds in your wife's pocket.'

'Percival, here is the position. If your wife lives, you pay that debt with her signature on the document. If your wife dies, you pay the debt with her death.'

The light in Madame Fosco's room goes out, and the verandah roof is now sunk in darkness. The rain continues. I Listen with every nerve in my body, memorizing word after word.

'Percival, you must now leave this matter in my hands. I have more than two months to find the solution, so let's not talk about it any more. Let me help you with your other difficulty — the difficulty that seems to have the name of Anne Catherick.'

'Look, Fosco, we may be friends, but we still have our secrets. This does not concern you. Please don't ask me about it.'

'My friend, I can respect a secret. So I won't ask you to tell me. But can I help you all the same?'

'If I don't find Anne Catherick, I'm a lost man. Both she and her mother know this — this secret. It could ruin me, Fosco. Anne Catherick has spoken to my wife and I'm sure she's told her.'

'But as your wife, surely it's in her interest to keep it a secret?'

'If she loved me, that would be true. But she's in love with someone she met before we married, a drawing teacher called Walter Hartright. And who helped Anne Catherick escape from the asylum? Hartright. Who saw her again in Cumberland? Hartright. He knows the secret, and my wife knows the secret. If they get together, they will use it against me.'

'Yes, yes, I see. Where is Mr Hartright?'

'Out of the country. He sailed for America.'

'Don't worry, then. I will deal with him if he ever comes back. Depend on it. But first we must find Anne Catherick. What about her mother? Can she be trusted?'

'It's in her interest not to tell anyone the secret.'

'Good. Now, how will I recognize Anne Catherick?'

'Easily. She's the pale, sickly likeness of my wife.'

A noise as a chair is pushed back. The Count has jumped to his feet and is walking about. He seems amazed.

'What!!! Are she and your wife related to each other?'

'Not at all.'

'And yet so alike? Well, I will know her when I see her.'

'What the devil are you laughing about, Fosco?'

'Just a thought, my good friend, just a thought. But enough for tonight. You will pay the debt and find Anne Catherick. I promise you. You can put your mind at rest, Percival.'

Not another word is spoken. I hear the library door close. I am wet to the skin, stiff and aching with the cold. At first I can't move, but slowly, painfully, I creep back to my window and climb in. As I fall on the floor, I hear the clock strike a quarter past one. Time passes. Somehow I manage to get up and put on dry clothes. I am burning hot — and shivering with cold. I know I must write down what I have heard, so I find paper and pen and write without stopping. The fever rises in me, burning, burning. I open the window for cool air...

Eight o'clock. Bright sunshine, which hammers at my eyes. My head aches, my bones ache, my skin burns, yet I cannot stop shivering. I lie down to sleep, my writing finished, and in my fever I see Count Fosco come into my room and read the pages I have written. He smiles. I am helpless — unable to move, speak, breathe... and I sink into the long, black night of illness...


untidy adj. not neat or orderly 不整齐的

deliberate adj. leisurely, unhurried 不慌不忙的

impatiently adv. lacking patience or tolerance 不耐烦地;着急地

go out put out 吹灭;熄灭

verandah n. an open area with a floor and a roof that is built on the side of a house on the ground floor 游廊

crisis n. time of danger or difficulty 危机

understanding n. the ability to understand or think 见识

memorize v. commit to memory 记住

in her interest as something that is advantageous to her 对她有利

hammer at inflict pain at 使疼痛

7.深夜密谈

我回到庄园时,只剩20分钟就要吃晚餐了——我还得溜进劳拉的房间,告诉她信已经安全地交给范妮了。

劳拉脸色苍白。“我不下楼吃晚饭了,”她说,“珀西瓦尔爵士刚来过,站在门口朝我大喊,要我告诉他安妮·凯瑟里克在哪儿。”

“这起码说明他还没找到她。”我说。

吃晚饭的时候,福斯科伯爵满脸通红,衣服也有些不整。他也出去了吗,我心里疑惑。他似乎有什么秘密的困扰,几乎和珀西瓦尔爵士一样一言不发。吃罢饭,伯爵夫人和我往外走的时候,伯爵也站起身。

“你去哪里,福斯科?”珀西瓦尔爵士问道,“坐下再喝一杯。我要同你单独谈一谈。”

“现在不行,珀西瓦尔。以后吧。”伯爵回答。

白天的时候我也听到珀西瓦尔爵士提出同样的要求,这是一天之内伯爵第二次推迟和珀西瓦尔谈话了。为什么呢?我不明白。珀西瓦尔爵士这么着急要和伯爵谈什么呢?

我们走进客厅,平常总是慢条斯理的伯爵夫人迅速地喝完茶,不声不响地走了出去。我也朝外面走,但是伯爵叫住了我。他先是要我帮他添茶,然后又问我对某些音乐的看法,还在钢琴上弹了几首闹哄哄的意大利曲子。最后,我才得以离开他,来到劳拉的房间。我问她有没有看见伯爵夫人或是听见她的动静?她说没有。我们俩一直聊到10点,我下楼跟大家道晚安。珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵夫妇都在客厅坐着。我注意到伯爵夫人的脸通红。她刚才去哪儿了,干什么去了?看到我在打量她,伯爵夫人笑了笑,好像我们两个私下开过什么玩笑似的。

我同大家道了晚安。离开客厅的时候,我听见珀西瓦尔爵士不耐烦地对伯爵说:“到外面来抽支烟,福斯科。”

“好的,珀西瓦尔。等女士们都去睡了以后。”伯爵说。

回到楼上的房间,我还在想珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵的密谈,拖了一天,到现在终于要在寂静的夜晚进行了。过了一会儿,我从卧室来到我的客厅,把房门关好。房间漆黑一片,没有点蜡烛。我透过窗子向外望了一会儿,外面的花园一片黑暗,宁静、潮湿的空气中有一种雨的味道。

突然,我看到黑暗中有两个红色的亮点在移动,然后在我卧室的窗下停住了,我卧室里点着一支蜡烛。一个亮点小,另一个大些。我想肯定是伯爵在抽烟卷,珀西瓦尔爵士在抽雪茄。我的客厅是黑的,他们看不见我。因此,我在客厅等着听他们说什么。

“为什么不进屋,坐下来谈?”珀西瓦尔爵士说。

“等到那蜡烛灭了再说,”伯爵说,“等她睡了,我再查看一下书房两边的房间,然后我们再谈。”

那么机密!不管伯爵怎样保密,我一定要听听这场谈话。这个想法使我很害怕,但是劳拉的幸福——甚或她的生命——可能都跟我听到的内容有关。我怎么去偷听呢?我想到可以从游廊的平顶上过去,平顶连着好几间卧室,比窗户大约低3英尺。顶子很窄,但还是可以过去,到达书房窗户的上面。伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士经常坐在敞开的窗子旁抽烟,如果是这样的话,我就可以从上面偷听他们的谈话了。

我回到卧室,穿上一件长长的带有兜帽的黑色斗篷,吹灭了蜡烛。呆了一会儿,我回到客厅,爬出窗户来到游廊的平顶上。我的心跳开始加速。我必须爬过五个窗子,其中四个已经没有了亮光,可第五个是伯爵夫人的房间,那儿恰好在书房上面,正是我要偷听的地方。而且,伯爵夫人的房间里还亮着烛光。我沿着平顶往前移动,然后手脚并用地爬过她的窗子。经过她窗下时,我抬头看了看——透过薄薄的窗帘看见她在窗前的身影……

我屏住呼吸。她是不是听见我在这儿了?她会向外看吗?没有,影子移开了,她走了。我来到平顶的边上,找好了偷听的位置。他们在这儿吗?会不会到别的地方去谈?啊,我听见伯爵的声音了。

“哈尔库姆小姐房间的蜡烛灭了,这两边的房间没人,唯一有亮光的窗户是我妻子的房间——好了,我们现在可以谈了。珀西瓦尔,我们的事现在出现了严重危机,今晚我们必须计划一下该怎么办。”

“事情比你想的还要糟。”珀西瓦尔爵士嘀咕着。

“听着,珀西瓦尔。这就是我们两人的处境。我们都是为了钱才到这个庄园来的,而得到钱的唯一途径是通过你的妻子。我跟你说过什么?我告诉你千万不要跟你妻子发脾气,尤其不能和她姐姐哈尔库姆小姐发脾气。可是你记住了吗?根本没有。你的坏脾气让我们失去了你妻子的签字,到手的钱没了,还让哈尔库姆小姐给律师写了第一封信——”

“第一封信?她又写信了吗?”

“是的,她今天又写信了。”

什么!他是怎么知道的?他是不是跟踪我去了旅店?但是就算他去了,也不会看到那两封信的——信是直接从我手里到了范妮的衣服里的。那他是怎么知道的呢?

“你很走运,”伯爵接着说,“有我在这儿帮你解决麻烦。你很走运,在你发疯一样把你的妻子当犯人关起来,不让她见哈尔库姆小姐的时候,我出来阻拦了你。你看不出来吗?哈尔库姆小姐具有男人一样的勇气和见识,我非常敬佩她!但是,她就像挡在我们和你那漂亮小妻子之间的一块巨石。现在说钱的问题。我们得到了一笔贷款——一笔代价极大的贷款——我们签了字,答应三个月后还钱。到时候,除了靠你妻子就没有任何办法还钱了吗?”

“没有。”

“你现在从你妻子那儿可以得到什么钱?”

“只有她那20,000英镑带来的收入。”

“你还能从你妻子身上得到更多的钱吗?”

“一分都没有——除非她死了”

“呵!除非她死了。”

谈话暂停了。天开始下雨,我感到身上又湿又冷。

珀西瓦尔爵士接着说:“如果她没留下孩子,我可以得到她那20,000英镑。”

“珀西瓦尔!你真的在乎你妻子吗?”

“福斯科!这个问题太直接了。”

“假如你妻子在夏末死去——”

“别说了,福斯科!”

“你会得到20,000英镑。”

“别光说我,还有你,福斯科。你也会受益,妻子死了,妻子口袋里就会装进10,000英镑。”

“珀西瓦尔,这就是现在的局面。如果你妻子活着,你需要得到她签字来还债;如果你妻子死了,你就用她的死来还债。”

福斯科夫人房间的烛光熄灭了,游廊顶上一团漆黑。雨还在下。我全神贯注地听着,把每个字都记在心里。

“珀西瓦尔,你现在必须把这件事交给我来办,我有两个多月的时间去想办法,现在咱们先不谈这个。让我来帮你解决另一个麻烦——那个好像和安妮·凯瑟里克这个名字有关的麻烦。”

“瞧,福斯科,我们或许是朋友,但我们都有各自的秘密。这件事与你无关。请你不要问我这件事。”

“我的朋友,我可以尊重你的秘密。我不问你的秘密是什么,但不管怎么说,我能帮你点儿什么吗?”

“假如找不到安妮·凯瑟里克,我就完了。她和她母亲都知道那个——那个秘密。那个秘密会毁了我,福斯科。安妮·凯瑟里克找过我妻子,我敢肯定她已经把秘密告诉我妻子了。”

“可是,作为你的妻子,保守这个秘密不也对她有好处吗?”

“如果她爱我,应该是这样的。但是,她爱上了一个她在我们结婚以前认识的人,一个叫沃尔特·哈特里特的绘画教师。是谁帮助安妮·凯瑟里克从精神病院逃走的?是哈特里特。又是谁在坎伯兰郡跟她见面?还是哈特里特。他知道这个秘密,我妻子也知道这个秘密。要是他们两个聚到一块儿,肯定利用这个秘密来对付我。”

“说的对,说的对,我明白了。哈特里特先生现在在哪儿?”

“在国外。他去美洲了。”

“那就不用担心了。他要是回来,我来对付他。你放心。不过我们还是要先找到安妮·凯瑟里克。她母亲呢?可信吗?”

“保守这个秘密对她有好处。”

“很好。不过我怎么才能认出安妮·凯瑟里克来?”

“这容易。她长得很像我妻子,只是脸色苍白,面容憔悴。”

我听见向后移动椅子的声响。伯爵站了起来,在屋里来回走动着,他显得非常惊讶。

alt

“什么!她跟你妻子有亲戚关系吗?”

“一点儿没有。”

“那就这么相像?我见到她会认出来的。”

“你到底在笑什么,福斯科?”

“只是一个想法,我的好朋友,一个想法而己。不过今晚就谈到这儿。你会还清债务,找到安妮·凯瑟里克的。我敢保证。你就放心吧,珀西瓦尔。”

谈话结束了。我听到书房的门关上了。我身上已经湿透,身体被冻得又僵又疼。起初整个人都动不了。我艰难地慢慢爬回我的窗边,爬进屋里。我跳到地板上时,听见钟响了,1点一刻。时间过得真快。我挣扎着起来,换上干衣服。我浑身发烫——同时也冷得打哆嗦。我明白我必须把听到的全都写下来,于是找出纸笔,开始不停地写起来。我烧得越来越厉害,浑身好像着了火。我打开窗户,让冷空气进来……

8点了。明媚的阳光使我的眼睛隐隐作痛。我头痛得非常厉害,全身酸痛,而且发烫,还不停地打哆嗦。我躺下睡觉,记录已经写完了。迷迷糊糊地,我看见福斯科伯爵进到我的房间,看了我写的东西。他笑了笑。我毫无办法——不能动,不能说话,不能呼吸……我陷入长长的昏迷,眼前一片黑暗……

8
Fever

While I lay unconscious in my illness, I knew nothing, of course, of the events happening around me. It was only much later that I learnt from other people what had happened.

When I eventually returned to Limmeridge, Fanny told me about the letters and the night she had left Blackwater.

'You left me at about seven, miss, and at nine o'clock I had another visitor — the Countess! Yes, I was so surprised. But she was very kind. She saw that I was upset at leaving and insisted on having some tea with me. So I drank my tea, and five minutes later I fainted — for the first time in my life! When I woke up, it was about half an hour later. A lady from the hotel was looking after me as the Countess had had to go home. I checked the letters in my dress, miss, and they were both there, quite safe.

'And just as you told me, in London I posted the letter to Mr Kyrle, and as soon as I got to Limmeridge, I delivered the other letter personally to Mr Fairlie. I told him all about being dismissed by Sir Percival and everything, and what had happened at the hotel, but, well, he didn't seem very interested, miss.'

That last piece of information did not surprise me in the least. Had Laura's uncle ever been interested in anybody except himself? When I went to talk to him, he was full of excuses.

'My nerves, dear Marian, remember my nerves! Yes, of course I will tell you about the letters, but please don't get excited and go around banging doors! Try to stay calm.'

'I suppose my letter about Laura upset you,' I said.

'Of course it did, dear Marian! What was I to do? You told me Laura needed to escape from her husband and to come to Limmeridge. But suppose Sir Percival had come after her? Think of the noise, the arguments, the banging of doors! That's why I wrote to you, to beg you to come here first by yourself, to talk the matter over with me.'

I never saw that letter, of course, as it arrived at Blackwater when I was unconscious with fever.

'And Mr Kyrle wrote to you as well, didn't he?' I said.

'Yes. He wrote to say he had received an envelope addressed to him in your handwriting, but which contained only a plain piece of paper without a word on it. He had written to you about it, and had received no reply. Why he expected me to explain this mystery, I had no idea. And that's what I told him.'

So helpful, I thought bitterly. But there was no point in saying anything. 'And were you surprised not to hear from me again?'

'Indeed I was, until my sister's foreign husband, that extraordinary Count Fosco, came to see me. Such a huge man!' said Mr Fairlie, his eyes closing at the memory. 'But surprisingly quiet on his feet. Anyway, he explained how ill you were, dear Marian, which was why you hadn't replied to my letter. I was extremely shocked and sorry to hear about your illness. But the Count did talk so much — I thought he would never leave!'

'And he persuaded you to write to Laura,' I said, trying to keep my voice calm and quiet.

'Yes, he urged me — in fact, practically ordered me — to invite Laura here at once. She was too nervous and upset to be of any use to you in the sick-room, he said, and the situation with Sir Percival was growing more dangerous every day. There was no trouble with the journey, because he and his wife had just rented a house in London. So Laura could travel up to London, stay the night with them, and travel on to Cumberland the next day.'

'So you wrote the letter and gave it to him,' I said.

'Where was the harm in it? In any case, I never for a moment thought that Laura would leave you alone when you were so ill. And how was I to know what shocking event was about to take place? No one could possibly say that I was to blame …'

*  *  *

I know now exactly who was to blame, but it took quite a time to put all the different pieces of information together. When I first began to be aware of my surroundings again during my recovery, I knew nothing, of course, about the letters. I knew only that I was not in my usual bedroom and there was a foreign lady looking after me. I had no idea who she was and she would not answer any of my questions. So I was very relieved a few days later when the familiar face of Mrs Michelson appeared.

'Oh, Mrs Michelson,' I said, 'I'm so glad to see you. Please tell me what's been happening.'

'You've had typhus fever, Miss Halcombe. You've been very ill. But you're getting stronger now, I'm happy to say.'

'Typhus! No wonder I feel so weak. And my sister, Lady Glyde — I do hope she didn't catch the infection?'

'No, no, she didn't.'

Mrs Michelson would not look me in the face, and I began to feel worried. Was she afraid to tell me something?

'Is my sister ill? Please, Mrs Michelson, I must know!'

'No, she's not ill. But... but she's not here. She went away yesterday to London, and is going on to Limmeridge today.'

I stared at her. Laura gone? I could not believe it. What did it mean? Had something terrible happened? I remembered the conversation I heard during the night on the verandah roof, and my heart filled with fear.

'And Sir Percival …?' I could not finish my question.

'Sir Percival left the house last night, to go abroad,' she said. 'The Count and Countess have gone to London, and the servants have all been dismissed, except for a cook and the gardener. You and I are the only people living in the house, Miss Halcombe.'

The shock of this news was so great that I felt faint. Mrs Michelson hurried to fetch me a glass of water.

'Oh, Miss Halcombe, I'm sorry,' she said. 'Try not to worry. You must rest now, and try to sleep a little.'

Later, when I felt stronger, we talked again. 'Tell me everything you can remember, from the day I fell ill,' I begged Mrs Michelson. 'I must know what happened.'

'Well, Miss Halcombe, on that first morning a servant found you, lying on your bed in a fever, holding a pen tightly in your hand. The doctor was called at once, a Mr Dawson, who said you were very ill. The Countess and I acted as your nurses — Lady Glyde wanted to help, but she was so upset at seeing you unconscious that she couldn't stop crying.

'Sir Percival and the Count were concerned about you too, though they seemed worried about something else as well. In fact, the Count spent three days down by the lake, at that old boat-house, and I remember he came in once when I was going through the hall. Sir Percival came rushing out of the library, saying, "Have you found her?" I didn't hear the answer and I have no idea who they were talking about.'

I had a very good idea who they were talking about, but it was obvious that Mrs Michelson didn't, so I said nothing.

'Your fever got worse,' Mrs Michelson went on. 'The Count said we needed a nurse to help us, so Madame Fosco took the train to London and came back with Mrs Rubelle.'

'Is that the foreign lady who was looking after me before you appeared, Mrs Michelson?' I asked.

'Yes, that's right. She didn't say very much, but she was a capable nurse. I had no complaints about her work. Mr Dawson, the doctor, was suspicious of her because she was recommended by the Count, and he didn't like the Count at all.'

'Why was that?' I asked.

'The Count had a lot of medical knowledge, you see, and he was always suggesting to Mr Dawson ways of reducing your fever. Mr Dawson called it interference and got quite angry about it. But in fact, miss, the Count recognized you had typhus fever before Mr Dawson did. He — the Count, that is — went away to London for a week, and when he came back, he took one look at you and said "Typhus". Mr Dawson sent to London for another doctor, who came and said the same thing. Then we had a very worrying ten days, when your life was in danger, but at last the doctor said you were through the worst and with good nursing care you would recover. Lady Glyde was so overcome by this happy news that she became ill herself and had to be put to bed.'

'My sister has always had delicate health,' I said.

'Yes, she's not strong. Anyway, Miss Halcombe, it was at this point that disturbing things started to happen. First, the Count and Mr Dawson argued again so fiercely that Mr Dawson left, saying he refused to offer his services any more. Next, Sir Percival told me that he was going to close the house. As soon as you and Lady Glyde were able to travel, he said, you would be going away for a change of air. He told me to dismiss all the servants, except a girl to do the cooking, and a gardener. Imagine! Just like that! I tell you, Miss Halcombe, if I hadn't felt so sorry for you and Lady Glyde, I would have resigned at once!

'The last thing was very strange indeed,' said Mrs Michelson, shaking her head. 'Sir Percival said that you and Lady Glyde would benefit from a stay at the seaside town of Torquay. He told me to go there to look for a suitable house to rent, and told me how much money I could pay. Well, I knew it wasn't enough, and I wish now that I hadn't gone, but he was my employer so I thought I had to obey his orders. I returned yesterday, after two days away, and told Sir Percival that it was impossible to find a house at such a low rent. Sir Percival showed no interest in my news at all. He just said that the Count and Countess had left Blackwater Park for their new house in London.'

Mrs Michelson looked at me anxiously. 'I think you'll find the next part of the story very upsetting,' she said. 'Poor Lady Glyde was cruelly deceived by her husband.'

'You don't surprise me,' I murmured. 'Please go on.'

'After seeing Sir Percival, I went upstairs to see you and Lady Glyde. Your sister, though still very weak, was feeling better and wanted to get up and go and visit you in your room. I helped her to dress and as we went down the passage, we met Sir Percival.

'"If you're going to see your sister, you won't find her," Sir Percival says. "She left the house yesterday with Fosco and his wife. She decided to go with them to London, on her way to Limmeridge. Mrs Rubelle went too, to look after her on the journey. You can look in her room if you don't believe me."

'I was shocked and amazed by this, and Lady Glyde's face went as white as a sheet. She almost ran down the passage and threw open the door to your room. It was empty.

'Then she cries out to Sir Percival, "Marian was much too ill to travel. Even if she did go, she would never leave without saying goodbye to me first. And why would she go to Limmeridge alone, leaving me here at Blackwater Park?"

'"Because your uncle won't receive you till he has seen your sister first," says Sir Percival. "Have you forgotten the letter he wrote to her at the beginning of her illness?"

'All through this interview, Miss Halcombe, I thought Sir Percival seemed very strange — jumpy and nervous, not at all his usual self. And now he just turned and walked away. Lady Glyde was shaking with fear, and looked at me with terror in her eyes. "Something's happened to my sister. I must follow her — I must see that she's alive and well with my own eyes. Please, Mrs Michelson, come down with me to Sir Percival. Stay with me, please!" She held my arm so tightly that I had to go with her.

'Sir Percival was in the dining room, drinking. He drank at least four glasses of wine while we were in there, Miss Halcombe. Lady Glyde was very brave, I thought. She said, "If my sister is well enough to travel, then so am I. Please allow me to follow her at once by the afternoon train."

'Sir Percival was so rude and rough with her. "You can go tomorrow," he said. "I'll write to Fosco. He can meet you at the station and you'll stay at his house overnight."

'Lady Glyde's hand began to tremble violently on my arm. "I would rather not stay at the Count's house," she said.

'Sir Percival then got very angry. "Why not?" he shouted." What's wrong with sleeping at your aunt's house? Your sister slept there last night to break her journey, and so will you. That's what your uncle, Mr Fairlie, wants you to do as well. Here — there's a letter from him. I forgot to send it up to you."

'Poor Lady Glyde was shaking so much that she gave me the letter to read to her. It was very short. I remember it, word for word: Dear Laura, please come whenever you like. Break the journey by sleeping at your aunt's house. Sorry to hear of Marian's illness. Your fond uncle, Frederick Fairlie.

'Lady Glyde didn't try to argue any more, and we went back upstairs. It seemed quite a sensible plan to me, Miss Halcombe, and I couldn't understand why Lady Glyde was so terrified of Count Fosco. She walked up and down her room, whispering, "Poor Marian — in that horrible man's power! I must find her, even if I have to follow her to Count Fosco's house."

'The next day I helped Lady Glyde get ready and went with her to the station. "If Marian has already left for Limmeridge, I won't stay at the Count's house," she told me. "I'll go and stay with Mrs Vesey, my old governess." As the train pulled away, I saw her pale, frightened face at the window. I felt so sad for her.

'Then I came back here. Imagine my surprise, Miss Halcombe, when I saw Mrs Rubelle walking in the garden! "What are you doing here?" I said. "You went to London with the Foscos and Miss Halcombe!" And then it all came out. You were still in the house. While I was out of the way in Torquay, they moved you to a room in an unused part of the house and kept you hidden. You must have been in a very deep sleep when they moved you. Perhaps they drugged you — I don't know. Then Sir Percival appeared and gave me this explanation. It was all for his wife's own good, he said. She needed a change of air, and would not have gone to Limmeridge if she had known that you were still in the house. He spoke in such a violent, angry way that I did not dare to express my opinion.

'So you see, Miss Halcombe, that was how poor Lady Glyde was deceived. It was wicked and cruel. I would have resigned my position immediately, but Sir Percival told me that Mrs Rubelle was leaving and there would be no one to look after you if I left too. So, naturally, I stayed. Sir Percival left last night, as I told you. The gardener said he seemed half mad. He called for his carriage, and drove away like an escaped criminal, saying his house was a prison and he would never return to it. I hope and pray, Miss Halcombe, that I never see that man again.'

Poor Laura — how she must have suffered! There was nothing I could do. I could not go after her as I was too weak even to stand. I hoped desperately that she had found out about the deception and would write soon to tell me that she was safe.

*  *  *

A letter came a few days later, but it was not for me, and not from Laura. It was for Mrs Michelson from Madame Fosco.

Mrs Michelson came into my room with the letter in her hand. Mr Dawson, who had agreed to be my doctor again now that the Count had gone, was behind her. I took one look at both their faces, and sat up in bed, terrified.

'What is it?' I gasped. 'You have some dreadful news for me. I can see it in your faces.'

Mrs Michelson sat down on the edge of the bed and took my hand. 'Your poor, dear sister, Lady Glyde...' she began.

The room began to darken around me, as though night was falling, and the words seemed to come from a great distance.

'... was taken seriously ill when she arrived at her aunt's house in London, and died the next day, very suddenly. She is to be buried at Limmeridge, in her mother's grave.'

*  *  *

Kind Mrs Michelson nursed me through my second illness, with Mr Dawson's help. I was not able to travel for more than three weeks, but eventually I found the strength to leave that hated house and return to Limmeridge. Mrs Michelson and I travelled together to London, where I went to see Mr Kyrle. To him I revealed the terrible suspicions in my mind about the circumstances of my sister's death. He was most concerned and promised to make enquiries for me.

I went on to Limmeridge House and a few days later Mr Kyrle wrote to me there. He had taken statements from several witnesses, he said, and was convinced that nothing suspicious had happened. He sent copies of the statements for my information. This was the one by the Count's cook, Mrs Hester Pinhorn:


I was recently employed as a cook by the Count and Countess Fosco at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. One day near the end of July, the Countess's niece, Lady Glyde, arrived at the house. She immediately fell ill. I saw her lying on the sofa, her face all white. I ran out for a doctor and came back with Mr Goodricke. He examined her and said she had a very serious heart disease. During the night she got worse. Then, at about five o'clock the next day, she lost consciousness. The doctor went in and, after putting his hand on her heart, announced that she was dead. He said that, as the Count was a foreigner, he himself would go to record the death at the district office. The Count and Countess were very badly affected by the lady's death. The lady's husband was abroad, so they arranged the funeral themselves, which took place in Cumberland.


I was still very weak from my long illness, and despair nearly overtook me at this point. I had no friend to turn to, and no idea what to do next. I went every day to the churchyard, to put flowers on the grave and to read again those sad, sad words.


In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde

Wife of Sir Percival Glyde, of Blackwater Park, Hampshire

Born 27th March 1829

Died 25th July 1850


personally adv. in person 亲自

practically adv. almost 几乎

rent v. use at a rent

typhus n. a serious infectious disease 斑疹伤寒

catch the infection be affected by the infectious disease 被传染

be through have passed 度过

fiercely adv. violently 激烈地

obey v. carry out a command 服从

jumpy adj. making sudden movements 躁动的

pull away (of a train ) leave (火车)离开;开走

drug v. to give someone a drug, esp in order to make them feel tired or go to sleep 用药麻醉

for one's good for one's interest 为了……的利益;为了……好

be convinced be certain that something is true 确信

announce v. make publicly known 宣布

overtake v. overwhelm 击垮

8.高烧

我在床上昏睡着,对周围发生了什么当然一无所知。很长时间以后,我才从别人那里得知出了什么事。

后来,我回到利默里奇,范妮告诉我那两封信的事以及她离开布莱克沃特那天晚上发生的事情。

“你从我那儿走的时候是7点钟,9点钟又来了一位客人——是伯爵夫人!没错,我非常吃惊。但她特别和善。她看出我在为离开而难过,就坚持要和我喝茶。我喝了茶,5分钟后就晕过去了——这可是我头一回晕过去!我醒的时候已经过了大约半小时。旅店的一位女士在照看我,伯爵夫人已经回去了。我检查衣服里的信,两封信都在,很安全。

“我照你说的,在伦敦把给克尔先生的信寄了出去,一到利默里奇,就把另一封信亲自交给了费尔利先生。我告诉他,我被珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了,还有在那边发生了什么以及旅店的事情,但是他好像对这些都没什么兴趣,小姐。”

对最后一点,我丝毫不觉得奇怪。劳拉的这个叔叔,除了对他自己的事还对什么有兴趣?我去找他谈的时候,他满嘴借口。

“我的神经,亲爱的玛丽安,别忘了我的神经不好!是的,我当然会告诉你信的事,可是请你不要激动,不要总那么使劲儿关门!请你保持冷静。”

“我想我写给你关于劳拉的信让你担心了吧。”我说。

“当然让我担心了,亲爱的玛丽安!我该怎么做呢?你说劳拉需要逃离她丈夫,回到利默里奇来。但是,如果珀西瓦尔爵士随后过来找她怎么办?想想那会有多少噪音、吵闹、摔门声!这就是我为什么给你写信,叫你自己先回来,跟我谈谈这件事。”

我当然没见过那封信,因为信到布莱克沃特的时候,我正发着高烧,昏睡不醒。

“克尔先生也给你写信了,是吗?”我问。

“是的,他写信给我说,他收到一个署名给他的信封,是你的笔迹,但是里面只有一张白纸,一个字也没有。他给你写过信,但没收到回音。我不明白他为什么叫解释这个迷,我就这么跟他说的。”

真是挺帮忙的,我心里恨恨地想。现在说什么也没用了。“再没接到我的来信,你不感到奇怪吗?”

“我的确感到奇怪,直到我的那个外国妹夫,福斯科伯爵过来看我,我才明白发生了什么。他可真胖!”费尔利先生闭上眼睛,陷入回忆之中,“但是他走路却很轻。他告诉我你病得非常厉害,所以没有回信。听说你生病我非常震惊,也很难过。可是,伯爵没完没了地跟我说话——我简直觉得他不想走了!”

“是他让你给劳拉写信的吧。”我尽量用平和的语气说。

“是的,他请求我——实际上是命令我——让劳拉马上回到这儿来。他说劳拉非常紧张害怕,在你的房间里也帮不了什么忙。而且珀西瓦尔爵士一天比一天危险。旅途中不会有问题,因为他和妻子刚刚在伦敦租了一栋房子,劳拉可以先到伦敦,在他们那里住一晚,第二天再赶往坎伯兰郡。”

“所以,你就写了那封信,让他拿走了?”我问。

“这有什么不好吗?不管怎样,我根本不相信劳拉会在你病重的时候丢下你不管。而且我怎么知道将要发生什么事?谁也不能把事情怪到我头上……”

*  *  *

现在我知道究竟是谁在搞鬼了,但是把各种消息都串起来颇费了一些时间。我刚从昏迷中醒来,注意到周围的时候,对信的事自然一无所知。我只知道自己不在原来的卧室,一位外国女士在旁边照顾我。我不知道她是谁,她也不回答我的任何问题。因此,几天后当米切尔森太太熟悉的脸出现在我面前时,我大大地松了一口气。

“噢,米切尔森太太,”我说,“见到你真是太高兴了。快告诉我到底发生了什么?”

“你得了斑疹伤寒,哈尔库姆小姐。你病得很厉害。不过,我很高兴你现在恢复得很好。”

“斑疹伤寒!怪不得我这么虚弱。我妹妹,格莱德夫人——我希望她没被传染吧?”

“没有,她没有被传染。”

米切尔森太太不敢正眼看我,我开始担心起来,她是不是害怕告诉我什么事情?

“我妹妹病了吗?米切尔森太太,我必须知道真相!”

“没有,她没病。不过……不过她已经不在这儿了。她昨天去了伦敦,准备今天去利默里奇。”

我盯着她。劳拉走了?我不信。这说明什么呢?出了可怕的事?我记起了在游廊顶上听到的谈话,心里充满了恐惧。

“那珀西瓦尔爵士……?”我无法把话讲完。

“珀西瓦尔爵士昨晚离开庄园,到国外去了,”她说,“伯爵夫妇去了伦敦,仆人们全都遣散了,就剩下一个厨师和一个园丁。庄园里只有你和我了,哈尔库姆小姐。”

这个消息对我的震动太大,我感到一阵眩晕,米切尔森太太赶忙去为我拿了杯水来。

“哦,哈尔库姆小姐,真抱歉,”米切尔森太太说,“你别担心,一定要好好休息,试着睡一会儿吧。”

后来,我身上有些力气了,我们又聊起来。“告诉我,自从我生病那天起都发生了什么?”我恳求米切尔森太太,“我一定要知道出了什么事。”

“好吧,哈尔库姆小姐。头一天早上,一个仆人发现你躺在床上,发着高烧,手里还紧紧握着钢笔。我们很快叫来了一位医生,道森先生。他说你病得很厉害。伯爵夫人和我一起照顾你——格莱德夫人也想帮忙,但是看到你昏迷的样子,她很难过,不住地哭。

“珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵也都为你担心,不过他们两人好像还在为别的事担心。实际上,伯爵在湖边呆了三天,就在那个老船屋里。我记得他有一次回来,我正路过大厅。这时,珀西瓦尔爵士从书房冲出来问他:‘找到她了吗?’我没听到回答,也不知道他们说的是谁。”

我非常清楚他们说的是谁,明显米切尔森太太不知道,所以我没有说话。

“你烧得越来越厉害,”米切尔森太太接着说,“伯爵说我们需要找一个护士帮忙,于是福斯科夫人坐火车去了伦敦,带回了鲁贝尔太太。”

“就是那位在你来之前照顾我的外国女士吗,米切尔森太太?”

“对,就是她。她很少说话,但很能干。我对她干活儿挑不出任何毛病。道森先生,那位医生,对她有怀疑,因为她是伯爵推荐的,而道森先生一点儿也不喜欢伯爵。”

“为什么呢?”我问。

“你知道伯爵懂得许多医学知识,他不断地向道森先生提出给你退烧的办法。道森先生非常生气,说这是干涉他的工作。但实际上,小姐,伯爵比道森先生更早地看出你得了斑疹伤寒。他——我是说伯爵——到伦敦去了一星期,回来后看了你一眼就说是‘斑疹伤寒’。道森先生从伦敦又请来一位医生,也说是斑疹伤寒。接下来的十天我们大家都非常担心,你当时有生命危险。不过最后,医生说你已经度过了危险期,只要得到精心照顾,就会好起来。听到这个好消息,格莱德夫人过于高兴,结果她自己病倒了,不得不卧床休息。”

“我妹妹的身体一直很弱。”我说。

“是的,她的身体不太好。不过,哈尔库姆小姐,就在这个时候,令人心烦的事接二连三地发生了。先是伯爵和道森先生大吵了一架,道森先生走了,他说不愿意再干了。然后,珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我他准备关闭庄园。他说等你和格莱德夫人能出门旅行了,就应该离开这里,换换环境。他让我辞退了所有的仆人,只留下一个女仆做饭,还有一个园丁。真是难以想象!就是这样!我跟你说,哈尔库姆小姐,要不是担心你和格莱德夫人,我当时马上就不干了!

“最后一件事非常奇怪,”米切尔森太太摇摇头接着说,“珀西瓦尔爵士说,你和格莱德夫人到海滨小城托基呆一段时间会对你们有好处。他叫我去那里找一栋合适的房子租下来,还告诉我只能花多少钱。唉,我知道钱不够。我现在真希望没去那个地方,但他是东家,我想我不能不听他的吩咐。我走了两天,昨天回来的。我告诉珀西瓦尔爵士用那么少的钱根本不可能租到房子。他对我的回复一点儿也不感兴趣,只是说伯爵夫妇已经离开布莱克沃特,去伦敦的新居了。”

米切尔森太太不安地看着我。“我想下面的事情一定会让你难过,”她说,“可怜的格莱德夫人让她丈夫骗惨了。”

“我不会感到惊讶的,”我轻声说,“请接着讲。”

“见过了珀西瓦尔爵士,我上楼去看你和格莱德夫人。你妹妹虽说还很虚弱,但已经好多了。她要起来到你的房间看你。我帮她穿好衣服。在走廊里我们碰到了珀西瓦尔爵士。

“‘如果你是去看你的姐姐,你不会找到她了,’珀西瓦尔爵士说,‘她昨天同福斯科夫妇离开了这里。她决定跟他们顺路到伦敦,然后去利默里奇。鲁贝尔太太也走了,她要在路上照看你姐姐。你要是不信我的话,可以到她的房间看看。’

“听到这些,我大吃一惊。格莱德夫人的脸变得煞白。她几乎在走廊里跑起来,一把推开你的房门,里面空无一人。

“然后她冲着珀西瓦尔爵士叫起来:‘玛丽安病得那么厉害,根本不能旅行。即使要去的话,她也不会不跟我道别就走。为什么她要一个人去利默里奇,把我留在布莱克沃特?’

“‘因为你叔叔要先跟你姐姐见面,再见你,’珀西瓦尔爵士说,‘难道你忘了在你姐姐刚病的时候,他写来的信了吗?’

“整个谈话中,哈尔库姆小姐,我觉得珀西瓦尔爵士显得很怪——又烦躁,又紧张,跟平时的他一点儿也不一样。说完,他就转身走开了。格莱德夫人害怕得直哆嗦,她看着我,眼睛里充满了恐惧。‘我姐姐出事了。我必须去找她,我必须亲眼看到她平安无事。米切尔森太太,请和我一起去找珀西瓦尔爵士。请陪我去!’她紧紧地抓着我的胳膊,我只好跟她一起下楼。

“珀西瓦尔爵士在餐厅喝酒,我们在的那一会儿,他就至少喝了四杯,哈尔库姆小姐。我觉得格莱德夫人很勇敢。她说:‘如果姐姐可以旅行,那我也可以。请允许我乘下午的火车去追她。’

“珀西瓦尔爵士对她非常无理、粗暴。‘你可以明天去,’他说,‘我会给福斯科写信。他会到车站接你,你晚上就住他那里。’

“格莱德夫人扶着我胳膊的手开始抖得很厉害。‘我不想住在伯爵家。’她说。

“珀西瓦尔爵士发怒了。‘为什么?’他大声嚷道,‘在你姑妈家过夜有什么不好?你姐姐昨天途中就是在那里过夜的,你也一样。这也是你叔叔费尔利先生的要求。给——这是他的信,我忘了给你了。’

“可怜的格莱德夫人哆嗦得很厉害,她把信交给我,让我念给她听。信很短,我还一字不差地记着:亲爱的劳拉,请在方便的时候回来。途中在姑妈家过夜。听说玛丽安病了,我非常难过。爱你的叔叔,弗雷德里克·费尔利。

“格莱德夫人没有再继续争下去,我们两人回到楼上。我觉得这样做很明智,哈尔库姆小姐,我不明白格莱德夫人为什么那么害怕福斯科伯爵。她在房间里走来走去,轻声自言自语:‘可怜的玛丽安——落到那个可怕的人手里!我一定要找到她,哪怕是到福斯科伯爵家里也要找到她。’

“第二天,我帮格莱德夫人准备好一切,陪她来到车站。‘如果玛丽安已经回利默里奇了,我就不住在伯爵家,’她告诉我,‘我会去找维西夫人,我原来的家庭教师。”火车开的时候,透过车窗我看到她苍白、恐慌的脸。我很为她难过。

“然后我回到这儿,竟然看到鲁贝尔太太在花园散步,哈尔库姆小姐,你知道我有多么惊讶!‘怎么在这儿?’我问,‘你不是和福斯科伯爵一家还有哈尔库姆小姐去伦敦了嘛!’后来事情慢慢都清楚了。你还在庄园。趁我去托基的时候,他们把你搬到了庄园里一个没人住的房间藏起来了。他们搬动你的时候,你肯定在昏睡。也许他们给你吃了药——我不清楚。这时,珀西瓦尔爵士过来给了我如下的解释。他说这一切都是为了他妻子好,她需要换个环境,假如她知道你还在庄园,是不会去利默里奇的。他说话时怒气冲冲的,我没敢说什么。

“你看,哈尔库姆小姐,这就是可怜的格莱德夫人受骗的经过。多么恶毒、多么不近人情。我本来要马上辞职的,但是珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我,鲁贝尔太太要走了,要是我也走的话,就没人照顾你了。这不,我就又留了下来。珀西瓦尔爵士是昨晚离开的,我刚才告诉过你。听园丁说,他跟疯了似的。他吩咐准备马车,然后仿佛落荒而逃的囚犯般驾车走了,嘴里还说什么这个家像个监狱,他再也不想回来了。我真的希望,哈尔库姆小姐,我再也不会见到那个人了。”

可怜的劳拉——她肯定受了很多罪!我现在一点儿办法也没有,也无法去追她,我现在虚弱得站都站不起来。我真的希望劳拉能够发现这个骗局,尽快地给我写信,告诉我她平安无事。

*  *  *

几天后来了一封信,但不是给我的,也不是劳拉写来的,而是福斯科夫人写给米切尔森太太的。

米切尔森太太拿着那封信走进我的房间,后面跟着道森先生,他同意继续为我看病,因为伯爵已经走了。我看到他们两人的神色,从床上坐起来,心里很害怕。

“出了什么事?”我急切地问,“你们有可怕的消息要告诉我。我从你们的脸上能看出来。”

米切尔森太太在我的床边坐下,握住我的手。“你那可怜的、亲爱的妹妹,格莱德夫人……”她说。

我的周围变得一团漆黑,就像夜色降临一样,下面的话似乎是从很遥远的地方传来的。

“……她到伦敦的姑妈家以后就病倒了,第二天就死了,死得非常突然。她将被安葬在利默里奇,她母亲的墓地。”

*  *  *

我又病倒了,好心的米切尔森太太在道森先生的帮助下精心地照顾我。三个多星期的时间里,我都无法出门旅行。但我终于恢复了体力,离开了那个令人憎恨的庄园,回到利默里奇。米切尔森太太和我一同来到伦敦,我去见了克尔先生,向他讲述了我心中对妹妹死因的怀疑。他对这件事很关心,答应为我调查。

我到利默里奇几天后,克尔先生的信也寄到了那里。他从几个证人那里获得了证词,他相信没有任何可疑的事发生。他把证词的副本寄给了我。下面是福斯科的厨师赫斯特·平霍恩太太的笔录:


我是最近受雇于福斯科伯爵夫妇的,他们住在圣约翰伍德,弗雷斯特街5号。快7月底的一天,伯爵夫人的侄女,格莱德夫人来到伯爵家。她很快就病了。我看见她躺在沙发上,脸色苍白。我跑去叫医生,找来了古德里克先生。他给她做了检查,说她得了严重的心脏病。当天夜里,她病情加重。大约第二天早上5点,她失去了知觉。医生进来,用手摸了摸她的胸口,说她已经死了。医生说,因为伯爵是外国人,所以他得亲自到地区办公室报告人口死亡。福斯科伯爵夫妇对格莱德夫人的死非常伤心。格莱德夫人的丈夫在国外,因此他们安排了葬礼的有关事宜,葬礼安排在坎伯兰郡举行。


由于长时间生病,我现在还非常虚弱,此时绝望几乎将我击垮。我找不到什么朋友可以倾诉,茫然不知下面该如何是好。每天我都去教堂墓地,去给劳拉的墓献花,一遍又一遍地读着那些令我心碎的文字。


爱妻劳拉·格莱德之墓

生于1829年3月27日

卒于1850年7月25日

汉普郡布莱克沃特庄园

珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士立

7.A conversation in the night

PART TWO
THE STORY TOLD BY MARIAN HALCOMBE
第二部分 玛丽安·哈尔库姆的讲述

4
Arrangements for a marriage

It was a sad day when Walter Hartright left us. Laura stayed in her room all day, and I felt sad and depressed. Poor Mr Gilmore must have had a dull time, and the next morning, when Laura reappeared looking pale and ill, I thought he seemed rather anxious about her. I was anxious too. Laura is such a sensitive and loving person that it was no surprise to me to find that she had grown fond of Walter. Indeed, I have grown fond of him myself. But I honestly believe that time will cure Laura of these feelings.

Two days after Walter left, Sir Percival Glyde arrived. He is forty-five years old but seems younger. He is handsome, and only a little bald, has perfect manners, and is pleasant, agreeable, and respectful. I really must try to like him.

In the afternoon, while Laura was out of the room, Sir Percival referred to Anne Catherick's letter.

'I read Mr Gilmore's letter to my lawyer,' he said, 'and I want to give you a full explanation. Mrs Catherick, you see, worked for me and my family for many years. Her marriage was unfortunate, in that her husband deserted her, and her only child, a girl, became mentally ill and needed to be put in an asylum. So, in recognition of Mrs Catherick's services, I agreed to pay the expenses of a private asylum for the girl. Unfortunately, the girl discovered this and consequently developed a hatred for me. She recently escaped from the asylum and I'm sure she wrote this letter because of her hatred for me. It's all very sad.'

Mr Gilmore found this explanation perfectly satisfactory, and said so. He then looked at me for agreement, but I was struggling with a sense of unease that I could not explain, and hesitated before answering. Sir Percival noticed this at once.

'May I beg you, Miss Halcombe,' he said politely, 'to write to Mrs Catherick to ask if these facts are true?'

I did not want to agree to this, but how could I refuse, without making the situation even more embarrassing than it already was? So I went to the desk, wrote a note, and gave it to him. Without looking at it, he put it in an envelope and wrote the address.

'Now that is done,' he said, 'may I ask if Anne Catherick spoke to Miss Fairlie, or to you?'

'No. She spoke to nobody except Mr Hartright,' I replied.

'Ah, yes, the drawing teacher,' he said thoughtfully. 'And did you discover where Anne Catherick was staying?'

I described the farm to him.

'It is my duty to try to find her,' he continued. 'Tomorrow I will go to this farm and make enquiries.' Soon afterwards he left to go up to his room.

*  *  *

That evening and the next day Sir Percival took every opportunity to bring Laura into the conversation, but she hardly took any notice. He went to the farm to make his enquiries about Anne Catherick, but learnt nothing. Then on Wednesday a letter came from Mrs Catherick — a short, business-like letter, thanking me for my note and saying that everything Sir Percival had told me was completely correct.

Why did I still have doubts? This, surely, was enough proof for anyone, but how I wished that Walter Hartright had been there to give his opinion! At Sir Percival's request I now had to give Laura his explanation of Anne Catherick's letter. She listened quietly and showed no emotion, but I noticed that on the table near her hand was the little book of Hartright's drawings. I also had to tell her that the reason for Sir Percival's visit was to fix the day of their marriage.

'I'm afraid he will ask you to decide quite soon, Laura.'

'Oh no, Marian! I can't do that!' she said. 'Please ask him, beg him, to allow me more time. I promise to give him a final answer before the end of the year, but not yet, please, not yet.'

Sir Percival agreed to this request, and when Mr Gilmore heard about it, he arranged to have a private talk with Laura.

'I have to return to London tomorrow,' he said to me, 'and I need to discuss the financial side of this marriage with Miss Fairlie before I go. As you know, she will inherit a great deal of money and property when she becomes twenty-one next March, and I must include all this in the marriage agreement in a way that reflects Miss Fairlie's own wishes, and is also acceptable to Sir Percival.'

He had the meeting with Laura the next morning, and in the afternoon he left for London, looking rather sad and thoughtful. Wondering what had been said, I hurried up to Laura's room.

'Oh, Marian, come in,' she said. 'I need to talk to you.'

'What is it, Laura? Is it about the marriage agreement?'

'No. I couldn't even bear to discuss that with Mr Gilmore. I'm ashamed to say that all I could do was cry. He was very kind and good, Marian, and he said that he would look after everything for me. No, what I wanted to tell you was this. I cannot bear the situation any longer. I must end it.'

Her eyes were bright and she spoke with great energy. I began to feel alarmed. 'What do you wish to do, Laura darling? Do you want to be released from your promise to marry Sir Percival?'

'No,' she said simply. 'I cannot break my promise to my father. But I want to tell the truth, and I will confess to Sir Percival that I love someone else.'

'Laura! He has no right to know that!' I said in amazement.

'I cannot deceive him,' she said. 'I have thought it over carefully. After I have told him, let him do as he wishes.'

I looked into her innocent, loving eyes and could say nothing. I just put my arms around her, trying not to cry myself.

'May I speak to him tomorrow, in your presence, Marian?'

I held her tight and agreed — though I was not sure I was doing the right thing. Indeed, I was not sure of anything. I could not understand how I had failed to see how deeply she loved Walter Hartright. For the first time in my life I had made a mistake about her. Now I realized that she would love him all her life.

*  *  *

The first thing that happened the next morning did nothing to make me feel more cheerful. A letter arrived for me from poor Walter Hartright. He had decided to leave England and asked me if I could help him find employment abroad. I was then alarmed to read that since his return to London he had neither seen nor heard anything of Anne Catherick, but suspected he had been watched and followed by strange men. I was worried about his state of mind, so I immediately wrote to some friends in London to ask if they could help him find a suitable job in another country. Laura, of course, knew nothing about these letters.

Sir Percival did not join us for breakfast, but sent a message, saying he would meet us at eleven o'clock, as arranged. Laura seemed calm and unusually self-controlled. I had never seen her like this. It was almost as if love had created a new force in her character.

At exactly eleven Sir Percival knocked and entered, with anxiety and worry in every line of his face. This meeting would decide his future life, and he obviously knew it.

'You may wonder, Sir Percival,' said Laura calmly, 'if I am going to ask to be released from my promise to marry you. I am not going to ask this. I respect my father's wishes too much.'

His face relaxed a little, but I saw one of his feet nervously beating the carpet.

'No, if we are going to withdraw from our planned marriage, it will be because of your wish, Sir Percival, not mine.'

'Mine?' he said in great surprise. 'What reason could I have for withdrawing?'

'A reason that is very hard to tell you,' she answered. 'There is a change in me.'

His face went so pale that even his lips lost their colour. He turned his head to one side.

'What change?' he asked, trying to hide his nervousness.

'When the promise was made two years ago,' she said, 'my love did not belong to anyone. Will you forgive me, Sir Percival, if I tell you that it now belongs to another person?'

Her tears started to fall, and Sir Percival hid his face behind his hand, so that it was impossible to know what he was thinking. He made no answer, and my temper got the better of me.

'Sir Percival!' I said sharply. 'Have you nothing to say? You have already heard more than you have a right to hear.'

'But I didn't ask for that right,' he said, avoiding my question.

'I wish you to understand,' Laura continued, 'that I will never see this person again, and that if you leave me, you only allow me to remain a single woman for the rest of my life. All I ask is that you forgive me and keep my secret.'

'I will do both those things,' he said. Then he looked at Laura, as if he was waiting to hear more.

'I think I have said enough to give you reason to withdraw from our marriage,' she added quietly.

'No. You have said enough to make it the dearest wish of my life to marry you,' he said, getting up and advancing towards her.

Laura gave a cry of surprise, but I had more than half expected this. Every word she had spoken had shown her honesty and her innocence, but these fine qualities had destroyed her own hopes of a release. Sir Percival understood very well the priceless value of a pure and true woman. Why would he give her up now?

'I will do everything I can to earn your love,' he said, 'and perhaps in time I will win it.'

'Never!' she answered, looking more beautiful than ever. 'I will be your true and loyal wife, but never your loving wife.'

'That is enough for me. I accept your loyalty and your truth,' he said, then raised her hand to his lips and silently left the room.

Laura sat without moving. I put my arm around her. At last she said,' I must resign myself, Marian. If you write to Walter, don't tell him how unhappy I am. And if I die first, please say to him, say what I could never say myself — say I loved him!'

Then she threw herself on the sofa and cried as if her heart was breaking, until at last she fell asleep.

*  *  *

In the days that followed it seemed that nothing could prevent this miserable marriage from taking place. I tried to make Laura change her mind, but she was determined to keep her promise, and to do her duty. Mr Fairlie was, of course, very happy that the 'family worry' was now at an end and suggested that the sooner his niece got married the better. This made me very angry, but when I told Laura, I was surprised by her calm reply.

'My uncle is right. I have caused trouble and anxiety to everyone. Let Sir Percival decide on the day for our marriage.'

Sir Percival was delighted by this news, and he then left to prepare for the bride's reception at his house in Hampshire.

I thought that a change would do Laura good, so I arranged for us both to go and stay with some friends in Yorkshire. She passively agreed with my idea. I also wrote to Mr Gilmore, telling him this marriage would now take place.

The next day I received a letter from Walter Hartright, saying that my friends had got him a job on an expedition to Central America. He was going to be the artist for the expedition. He was leaving on 21st November and would be away for six months. I could only hope that this was for the best.

Laura and I then departed for Yorkshire but after only nine days there we received a letter from Mr Fairlie, calling us back to Limmeridge immediately. What could this mean, I wondered?

I found out as soon as we arrived. Mr Fairlie and Sir Percival had agreed on 22nd December for the wedding, provided that Laura also agreed. Would I please persuade her, said Mr Fairlie. His nerves were much too bad to talk to her himself.

I also found our old friend Mr Gilmore, who had come to talk to Mr Fairlie about the marriage agreement. He was leaving that day, and was anxious to speak to me alone before he left.

'I am not at all happy about the financial arrangements in the agreement, Miss Halcombe,' he said, 'but there is nothing I can do about it. I know how fond you are of your sister and I think you ought to know why I am concerned.

'As you will know,' he went on, 'there are three parts to Miss Fairlie's inheritance. Firstly, on Mr Fairlie's death, she will inherit the Limmeridge property and land, and the income from it. If she dies childless, this property will go to a cousin, but the income from it will go to her husband during his lifetime. If she has a son, everything — property and income — will go to the son. No problems there.

'Secondly, when Miss Fairlie reaches the age of twenty-one next March, she will receive the income from £10,000. This £10,000 will go to her aunt Eleanor, if Miss Fairlie dies before her aunt — which is not very likely. The reason Miss Fairlie's father did not leave the £10,000 to his sister Eleanor on his death was that he disapproved strongly of her marriage to a foreigner, even though the man was an Italian nobleman, Count Fosco.'

'Yes, Laura has told me about that,' I said.

'Well,' Mr Gilmore went on, 'there are no problems there either. But the third part of Miss Fairlie's inheritance is more difficult. Next March she will also inherit £20,000, which will be her own money completely. If she dies before her husband, the income from the £20,000 will go to Sir Percival for his lifetime, and the capital will go to their children. If there are no children to inherit the capital, Miss Fairlie can choose relations and friends to inherit the money when she dies. That's what I proposed, but Sir Percival's lawyer did not accept it. He insists that if Sir Percival survives his wife and there are no children, Sir Percival should receive the capital. In that case, nothing will go to any other member of the family, including you, Miss Halcombe.'

Mr Gilmore sighed deeply. 'I protested strongly. I tried every argument I could, but nothing would change the lawyer's mind. I've discovered, you see, that Sir Percival is always in debt and always in need of cash. My last effort has been to come here, to try and persuade Mr Fairlie to oppose this demand from Sir Percival's lawyer. I am sorry to say I have not succeeded. Mr Fairlie wishes to avoid all responsibility for his niece's marriage arrangements. He says that his niece will not die before Sir Percival anyway, so what is there to worry about?'

Mr Gilmore stood up to go and picked up his hat. 'I shall complete the agreement and send it in. I have no choice. If I don't do it, Mr Fairlie will find another lawyer who will. But I tell you, Miss Halcombe, no daughter of mine should be married to any man alive under such an agreement as I am forced to make for Miss Fairlie.'

With that, he shook my hand, and without another word he went away to catch his train back to London.

After he had gone, I tried to be sensible. Mr Fairlie was Laura's guardian and if he chose to accept this agreement, there was nothing I could do about it. It was just one more worry about this dreadful marriage. A more immediate worry was the date of the wedding. When I told Laura, she turned pale and trembled.

'Not so soon!' she cried. 'Oh, Marian, not so soon!'

'Well, let me speak to Mr Fairlie, then,' I said, ready to fight for her. 'I will try to change it.'

'No,' she said faintly. 'Too late, Marian, too late! It will only make more trouble. Please tell my uncle I agree.'

I think I would have cried if I had not been so angry. I rushed into Mr Fairlie's room and shouted loudly, 'Laura agrees to the twenty-second' — and rushed out again, banging the door noisily. I hoped I had destroyed his nerves for the whole day.

*  *  *

After this the wedding preparations began. The dressmakers came and went all the time; there was packing, and planning, and all kinds of arrangements to make. We heard every day from Sir Percival. After the wedding he proposed to take Laura to Italy for six months. They would meet a number of Sir Percival's friends there, including his best and oldest friend, Count Fosco, whose wife, of course, was Laura's Aunt Eleanor. At least this marriage would bring Laura and her aunt together again, I thought. The Count himself sounded a most interesting person, and I rather hoped that I would meet him one day.

All too quickly the days passed. Sir Percival arrived, looking a little tired and anxious but talking and laughing like the happiest of men. The evening after he arrived he went off to the village to ask if anyone had any news of Anne Catherick. No one had heard anything, but I had to admit that it was good of him to continue to try to help her. I have decided to try and think better of him. After all, what reason do I have to distrust him? I am sure that I could like him if I really tried.

It is getting quite easy to like him. Today I spoke to him about the dearest wish of both Laura and myself — that I should be able to live with Laura after her marriage, just as I had always lived with her before. He agreed instantly and seemed delighted with the plan. I would be the ideal, the perfect companion for his wife, he said. Yes, I am beginning to like Sir Percival very much.

*  *  *

I hate Sir Percival! He has no sensitivity, no kindness, no good feeling. Last night he whispered something in Laura's ear — she has refused to tell me what it was — and her face turned white with misery. He took no notice at all, and all my suspicions of him have returned. Is he now showing his true character? He seems more restless and nervous than before, and is often sharp and bad-tempered. I have this strange idea that something might happen to prevent the marriage — and that he is afraid of that. A foolish thought. I must forget it.

As the day of our separation grows nearer, Laura cannot bear to have me out of her sight. I must be brave and cheerful, for her sake, but my fear will not go away. Will this marriage be the one terrible mistake of her life, and the one hopeless sorrow of mine?

*  *  *

It is the twenty-second. No more time for tears. Laura is dressed, and we leave for the church. By eleven o'clock they are married. By three o'clock they are gone. I am blind with crying and can write no more...


cure v. restore to health 治愈

respectful adj. showing deference 有礼貌的

desert v. abandon 抛弃

private adj. independent; not connected with government, public service, etc. 私立的

hesitate v. show or feel uncertainty or indecision 犹豫

embarrassing adj. causing to feel awkward or self-conscious or ashamed 令人难堪的;使人尴尬的

thoughtfully adv. engaged in or given to meditation 沉思地;若有所思地

business-like adj. serious, formal 正式的

emotion n. a strong mental or instinctive feeling 情感

inherit v. receive by legal descent or succession 继承

presence n. the state or condition of being present 在场

release v. set free; liberate 解除

withdraw v. discontinue, cancel 撤出;退出

advance v. move forward 向前走

destroy v. spoil utterly 破坏

in time eventually 最终

loyal adj. true, faithful 忠贞的

resign v. give up 退让

passively adv. offering no objection 被动地;不反对

expedition n. a journey for a particular purpose 为特别目的的旅行

provided conj. on the condition that 只要

likely adj. probable 可能的

disapprove v. have or express an unfavourable opinion 反对

capital n. money used to produce more wealth 资金

protest v. make a protest against an action or proposal 抗议;反对

dreadful adj. terrible, inspiring fear or awe 可怕的

bang v. shut noisily 用力关上

distrust v. have no trust or confidence in, doubt 不相信;怀疑

instantly adv. occurring immediately 立即;即刻

ideal adj. perfect, excellent 最好的

4.准备婚事

沃尔特·哈特里特先生离开的那天,我们都很难过。劳拉一整天呆在自己的房间里不出来,我的心情也很沉闷。可怜的吉尔摩先生肯定觉得那天很无聊。第二天早晨,劳拉从房间出来的时候,面容憔悴,像是病了一场。我觉得吉尔摩先生似乎很为她担心,我也为她担心。劳拉是个敏感而深情的人,她喜欢上沃尔特我一点儿也不觉得奇怪。其实,我自己也喜欢他。但是,我真心希望时间能够治愈劳拉的情伤。

沃尔特离开两天以后,珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士来了。他45岁,但看上去比实际年龄要年轻一些。他很英俊,稍有些秃顶,举止优雅,温和有礼。我尽力让自己对这个人产生好感。

下午,劳拉不在房里的时候,珀西瓦尔爵士提到了安妮·凯瑟里克的那封信。

“我看了吉尔摩先生给我律师的信,”他说,“我想跟你们好好地解释一下。凯瑟里克太太为我和我的家庭工作了许多年,她的婚姻很不幸,她丈夫抛弃了她,她的独生女精神有毛病,需要送进精神病院。所以,为了感谢凯瑟里克太太多年来的服务,我答应承担送她女儿去一家私立精神病院的所有费用。但不幸的是,女孩知道以后,就开始对我怀恨在心。她不久前从精神病院逃走了,我敢肯定是她出于对我的仇恨写了这封信。这太让人伤心了。”

吉尔摩先生认为这个解释非常令人满意,他说完看了看我,希望我也同意他的说法。可是,我有一种说不清的不安的感觉,犹豫了一会儿,没有说话。珀西瓦尔爵士立刻注意到了我的反应。

“哈尔库姆小姐,能否请你给凯瑟里克太太写封信,问问她这些是不是真的呢?”他非常客气地说。

我不想答应他的要求,但是又怎么好拒绝呢?拒绝只能把事情弄得越来越尴尬。于是,我走到桌旁,写了封短信,然后交给了珀西瓦尔。他看也没看就把信装进信封,写上了地址。

“好了,这件事就这样了,”他说,“请问安妮·凯瑟里克跟费尔利小姐或者你谈过吗?”

“没有。她只跟哈特里特先生谈过。”我告诉他。

“噢,是了,那位绘画教师,”他若有所思地说,“你们找到安妮·凯瑟里克的住处了吗?”

我跟他讲了农场的情况。

“找到她是我的责任,”他接着说,“明天我就去农场问问。”不一会儿,他就上楼回他的房间去了。

*  *  *

那天晚上以及第二天,珀西瓦尔爵士努力寻找一切机会同劳拉讲话,但劳拉一直心不在焉。珀西瓦尔去农场调查,结果一无所获。星期三凯瑟里克太太来信了,那是一封简短而又正式的信。信中感谢我给她写信,并且说珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我的都是事实。

为什么我还是有疑问呢?这封信对谁来讲都是充分的证据,可我还是很希望沃尔特·哈特里特先生能在这儿发表一下他的看法。应珀西瓦尔爵士的要求,我得向劳拉解释一下安妮·凯瑟里克来信的事情。她静静地听着,脸上毫无表情。我注意到她手边的桌上放着哈特里特先生的画册。我还得告诉她,珀西瓦尔爵士此行的目的是要确定他们结婚的日期。

“恐怕他会让你马上做决定,劳拉。”

“噢,不行,玛丽安!我不能!”她说,“请帮我问问他,恳求他再给我些时间。我保证年底以前给他最终的答复,但是现在不行,现在不行。”

珀西瓦尔爵士答应了这个要求。吉尔摩先生得知事情的经过后,准备同劳拉单独谈谈。

“我明天必须回伦敦去,”吉尔摩先生对我说,“走之前,我需要和费尔利小姐谈一下这桩婚事的财务问题。你知道,明年3月她21岁的时候,她会继承一大笔财产,我必须把这些都写进结婚协议中去,让协议既能反映费尔利小姐的愿望,也能令珀西瓦尔爵士接受。”

转天上午,吉尔摩先生和劳拉谈了话。下午,他动身去伦敦时,看上去忧心忡忡。不知道他们都说了些什么,我连忙赶去劳拉的房间。

“噢,玛丽安,快进来,我有话跟你说。”劳拉说。

“出了什么事,劳拉?是结婚协议的事吗?”

“不是。我简直没办法跟吉尔摩先生谈这件事。我真不好意思说出口,刚才我只是一个劲儿地哭,什么也没说。吉尔摩先生非常善良,玛丽安,他告诉我,他会帮我打理一切。我现在要告诉你的是,我再也受不了这种局面了,我必须结束这种状况。”

她的眼睛很亮,语气也很坚决。我感到有些害怕,“你想要做什么,亲爱的劳拉?你要解除同珀西瓦尔爵士的婚约吗?”

“不是的,”她回答,“我不能打破对父亲的承诺。但是,我要说出真话,我要告诉珀西瓦尔爵士我爱上了别人。”

“劳拉!他无权知道这件事!”我惊讶地说。

“我不能欺骗他,”她说,“我已经想好了。我把真相告诉他,让他决定该怎么办。”

我看着她纯洁、深情的眼神,一句话也说不出来。我伸手抱住她,尽量控制自己不哭出来。

“明天我就跟他说,你跟我去,好吗,玛丽安?”

我紧紧地抱着她,答应了她的请求——我也不清楚自己做的是对是错。我对什么都没了把握。我不明白为什么我没发觉她爱沃尔特·哈特里特爱得那么深。我第一次对她做出了错误的判断。现在我知道,她会一辈子爱着他。

*  *  *

第二天早晨发生的事让我一点儿也高兴不起来,可怜的沃尔特·哈特里特来信说他决定离开英国,问我能否帮他在国外找份工作。信后面的内容使我非常担心。他回伦敦以后,既没有见到安妮·凯瑟里克,也没有打听到她的任何消息,反而觉得有陌生人在盯他的梢。我担心他情绪不稳,赶忙给几个在伦敦的朋友写信,看他们能不能帮他在国外找到一份合适的工作。当然,劳拉对信的事一无所知。

珀西瓦尔爵士没有来同我们一起吃早餐,他捎话给我们说他会按约定11点来见我们。劳拉超乎寻常的冷静、镇定。我从未见她这样过,好像爱情使她更坚强了。

11点整,珀西瓦尔爵士敲门进来。他满脸紧张和不安。这次谈话将会决定他今后的生活,他显然非常清楚这一点。

“你可能会认为我是来请求与你解除婚约的,珀西瓦尔爵士,”劳拉冷静地说,“我不是来做这样的请求的,我非常尊重父亲的意愿。”

珀西瓦尔爵士的表情放松了一些,但我看到他的一只脚在紧张地敲打着地毯。

“我不会那样做的,如果我们两人要解除婚约的话,那一定是出于你的意愿,珀西瓦尔爵士,而不会是我的。”

“我的意愿?”他吃惊地说,“我能有什么理由解除婚约呢?”

“一个很难向你启齿的理由,我这里有了些变故。”劳拉回答。

珀西瓦尔的脸色变得煞白,双唇一点儿血色都没有。他把脸转向一侧。

“什么变故?”他尽量掩饰着自己的紧张。

“两年前约定婚事的时候,我的爱不属于任何人,”劳拉接着说,“如果我告诉你,珀西瓦尔爵士,我的爱现在属于另一个人,你会原谅我吗?”

她的眼泪流了下来。珀西瓦尔爵士用手捂住了脸,让人看不出他是怎么想的。他一句话也不说,我的直脾气可受不了了。

“珀西瓦尔爵士!”我大声问道,“你不想说点儿什么吗?你已经听到了本来你无权听到的事情。”

“可我并没有要求这权利。”他回避了我的问题。

“我想告诉你,”劳拉继续说,“我再也见不到那个人了。如果你和我分手,我会终身不嫁。我只请求你原谅我,并为我保守秘密。”

“两件事我都答应。”珀西瓦尔说完,看了看劳拉,似乎等着她再说些什么。

“我想我已经讲了足够的理由让你解除婚约。”劳拉平静地说。

“不,你说了这么多,我唯一的感觉是我一生最大的愿望就是同你结婚。”说着,他起身朝劳拉走过来。

劳拉惊讶得“咦”了一声,我倒是猜到了几分他会这么说。劳拉讲的每一句话都透出她的真诚和纯洁,但是这样良好的品德却毁掉了她解脱的希望。珀西瓦尔爵士很清楚,一个纯洁、真诚的女人是无价之宝。他为什么要放弃呢?

“我会尽一切所能去赢得你的爱,也许最终我会成功的。”珀西瓦尔说。

“永远也不会的!”劳拉看上去更美了,“我会是你忠实的妻子,但永远不会爱你。”

“这就足够了。我愿意接受你的忠贞和真诚。”说罢,他拿起劳拉的手吻了吻,然后默默地走出房间。

劳拉坐在那里一动不动,我伸出手搂住她。最后她开口道:“我必须退让,玛丽安。你给沃尔特写信时,不要告诉他我不开心。假如我比他先死了,你一定对他说,说我不能亲口对他说的话——我爱他!”

说完,她扑在沙发上放声痛哭,哭得好像心都碎了一样,最后她趴在那儿睡着了。

*  *  *

接下来的日子里,好像什么也阻止不了这桩不幸的婚姻。我力图让劳拉改变主意,但她却坚持要恪守诺言,履行义务。费尔利先生自然非常高兴,因为这场“家庭烦恼”终于画上了句号。他建议他的侄女越早结婚越好。这令我很气愤,但我把这话告诉劳拉后,她的平静反应倒让我吃了一惊。

“叔叔说的对,我给大家带来了太多麻烦。让珀西瓦尔爵士决定我们的结婚日期吧。”

珀西瓦尔爵士对此非常高兴,他离开庄园回汉普郡,准备迎接新娘。

我想换一个环境肯定对劳拉有好处,于是安排我们两人到约克郡的朋友那里呆一段时间。她同意了。我还给吉尔摩先生写了信,告诉他这桩婚事可以继续了。

第二天,我收到了沃尔特·哈特里特的来信,信中说我的朋友为他找到一份工作,要到中美洲长途旅行,他做随行的画家,11月21号动身,行程6个月。我衷心希望这是最好的安排。

劳拉和我动身前往约克郡。但是,刚刚在那里住了9天,我们就收到费尔利先生的信,让我们立即返回利默里奇。这意味着什么呢,我想不出。

一回来我就明白了。费尔利先生和珀西瓦尔爵士已经把婚礼的时间定在12月22日,就等劳拉点头同意了。费尔利先生问我可不可以说服劳拉同意这个日期,他本人神经不好,无法跟她谈。

我见到了我们的老朋友吉尔摩先生,他是来同费尔利先生谈有关结婚协议的事的。他当天就要离开庄园,着急想与我单独谈谈。

“哈尔库姆小姐,我对结婚协议中的财务安排非常不满意,”他对我说,“但是我一点儿办法也没有。我知道你多么爱你的妹妹,所以我认为你应该知道我为什么担心。

“你知道,”他接着说,“费尔利小姐继承的财产包括三部分。第一,费尔利先生死后,她会继承利默里奇的财产和土地以及由此产生的收入。如果她死后没有孩子,这份财产将转到她的一个亲戚名下,但财产的收入在她丈夫在世的时候将归他所有。如果她有个儿子,所有的财产和收入都归她的儿子。这一点没有任何问题。

“第二,明年3月费尔利小姐21岁的时候,她将得到10,000英镑的收入。如果费尔利小姐在她姑妈埃莉诺之前死去,这笔钱就归她姑妈,这当然不大可能。费尔利小姐的父亲之所以死的时候没有把这10,000英镑留给他的妹妹埃莉诺,是因为他强烈反对她嫁给一个外国人,虽然那个人是位意大利贵族,福斯科伯爵。”

“是的,劳拉跟我说过这件事。”我说。

“好吧,”吉尔摩先生接着说,“这一部分也没有问题。可是第三部分就不那么简单了。明年3月,她还将继承20,000英镑,这完全是属于她个人的一笔钱。如果她先于她丈夫死去,从这20,000英镑获得的收入将属于珀西瓦尔爵士,直至他去世;而这20,000英镑本金将归他们的孩子所有。假如没有孩子继承这笔钱,费尔利小姐死的时候,可以选择亲属或朋友继承。这是我的建议。但是,珀西瓦尔爵士的律师拒不接受这一点,他坚持认为,如果珀西瓦尔爵士死在他妻子后面,同时他们又没有孩子,珀西瓦尔就应该得到这笔钱。那样的话,费尔利家族的任何其他人,包括你在内,都得不到一分钱,哈尔库姆小姐。”

吉尔摩先生长叹了一口气,“我坚决反对这样。我极力争取,但还是无法让那位律师改变主意。我发现珀西瓦尔爵士长期欠债,急需现金。我最后的努力就是来这里试图说服费尔利先生反对珀西瓦尔爵士律师的要求,非常遗憾,我没有成功。对他侄女的这桩婚事费尔利先生什么也不想管。他说他侄女不会死在珀西瓦尔爵士前面的,又有什么可担心的呢?”

吉尔摩先生站起身,拿起帽子准备离开,“我会把协议拟好,并把它寄给你们。我没别的办法,我不这样做,费尔利先生也会再找一名律师这样做的。不过,我跟你说,哈尔库姆小姐,我是不会让我女儿根据我被迫为费尔利小姐准备的这样一份协议嫁人的。”

说完,他握了握我的手,一言不发地离开这里,去赶回伦敦的火车了。

吉尔摩先生走后,我尽量保持理智。费尔利先生是劳拉的监护人,如果他愿意接受这份协议,我做什么都无济于事。这是这桩可怕婚姻的又一个令人担忧的地方。现在更紧迫的事情是结婚日期。我把结婚的日期告诉劳拉以后,她的脸色立刻变白了,身体也开始发抖。

alt

“不要这么快!”她喊道,“噢,玛丽安,不要这么快!”

“好吧,那我去和费尔利先生说,”我这样说着,已经做好了为她去抗争的准备,“我会尽力去改变这个日期。”

“算了吧,”她有气无力地说,“一切都太晚了,玛丽安,太晚了!抗争只能带来更多的麻烦。去告诉我叔叔,我同意了。”

我要不是气愤至极,肯定就会哭出声来。我冲进费尔利先生的房间,大声喊道:“劳拉同意22日结婚!”——然后冲出去,很响地甩上门。但愿我能让他的神经一整天都不得安宁。

*  *  *

这以后,婚礼的准备工作开始了。整天都有裁缝进进出出;要收拾行李,做计划,进行各种安排。我们每天都能收到珀西瓦尔爵士的来信,他提议婚礼之后带劳拉到意大利住六个月,见一些珀西瓦尔的朋友,包括他最好的老朋友福斯科伯爵。福斯科伯爵的妻子当然就是劳拉的姑妈埃莉诺。这桩婚姻起码可以让劳拉和她的姑妈重逢,我这样想着。听起来伯爵本人倒是一个非常有趣的人,我也想有朝一日能见见他。

日子很快地过去了。珀西瓦尔爵士终于来了。他看上去有些疲倦和不安,但是有说有笑的仿佛世界上最幸福的男人就是他。他来的当天晚上去了村子里,打听是否有人知道安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。虽然没人给他提供什么消息,但我必须承认他继续寻求帮助她,这是善举。我决定努力改变对他不好的看法,说到底,我有什么理由不信任他呢?我相信如果真的努力尝试,我可能会喜欢他的。

喜欢他是很容易的。今天我同他说起劳拉与我的最大愿望——在劳拉结婚之后,我和她还能像以前一样住在一起。他立刻就答应了,而且很高兴能有这样的安排。他说我将是他妻子最理想、最合适的陪伴。是啊,我开始非常喜欢珀西瓦尔爵士了。

*  *  *

我恨珀西瓦尔爵士!他不善解人意,缺乏同情心,没有好心肠。昨天晚上,他跟劳拉耳语了些什么——劳拉不愿告诉我具体内容——她的脸色变得非常难看。而他却一点儿没在意。我以前对他所有的怀疑又出现了。现在,他是不是露出了他的本来面目?他变得比以往更加焦躁不安,经常言语尖刻,发脾气。我有个奇怪的想法,是不是会有什么事阻止这桩婚姻,而又非常害怕那样的结局。这是胡思乱想,我不能当真。

我们分别的日子一天天临近了,劳拉一刻也不肯离开我。为了她,我必须勇敢些,高兴起来。但是,我的担心没有消失。这桩婚姻会成为劳拉一生的大错吗?会成为我伤心、痛苦的根源吗?

*  *  *

22日到了。时间到了,不能再哭了。劳拉梳妆打扮完毕,我们要去教堂了。11点钟,婚礼就会结束。下午3点,他们就离开这里了。我已经哭得视线模糊,无法继续写下去了……

5
A document for signature

Six long, lonely months passed, and I had little to do but think of absent friends. I received a cheerful letter from Walter Hartright after he arrived in Honduras, and just before he set off with the expedition into the forest. Since then, I have heard nothing. There was no news of Anne Catherick or Mrs Clements. Poor Mr Gilmore fell very ill and had to give up work, but his business is continued by his partner, Mr Kyrle. Mrs Vesey has moved to London to live with her sister, and Mr Fairlie, I believe, is secretly delighted to have his house free of women.

Most of all, of course, I thought about Laura. Many letters came from her, but she said very little in them. She told me she was well, but hardly mentioned her husband, and wrote not a word about Count Fosco, whom they had met in Austria, not Italy. I understood from her silence that she did not like him. All she said was that her Aunt Eleanor, Madame Fosco, was quieter and more sensible than she had used to be.

*  *  *

On 11th June I arrived at Blackwater Park, Sir Percival's family home in Hampshire. The waiting was nearly over, and how happy I was! The next day Laura and her husband would return home, together with Count Fosco and his wife, who were going to spend the summer at Blackwater.

In the morning the housekeeper, Mrs Michelson, showed me round the house. It is very old, and much of it is dusty and unused; only one part of the enormous building is comfortable enough to live in.

Later I explored the gardens and the park. The gardens are small and not well kept, and there are so many trees that the house feels shut in by them. I found a path through the trees, which after half a mile brought me to a lake. It was a damp, lonely place. The still dark waters of the lake and the long shadows from the tall trees gave it a gloomy air. Near the lake there was an old boat-house with some seats in it, so I went in and sat down for a rest.

I am not a nervous person generally but when I heard the sound of quick breathing under my seat, I jumped to my feet in alarm. In fact, it was a dog — a small black and white dog, with a bullet wound in its side. I carried the poor creature back to the house and sent for Mrs Michelson to help me.

When she came in and saw the dog lying on the floor, she cried out at once, 'Oh! That must be Mrs Catherick's dog!'

'Whose?' I asked, amazed.

'Mrs Catherick's. Do you know her? She came here to ask for news of her daughter.'

'When?'

'Yesterday. She'd heard that her daughter Anne had been seen in the neighbourhood. But no one knew anything. I suppose the dog ran away into the woods and got shot by the park-keeper.'

I tried to make my voice sound politely interested. 'I suppose you've known Mrs Catherick for some years?'

'Oh no, Miss Halcombe, I never saw her before. She lives at Welmingham, twenty-five miles away. I had heard of her, because of Sir Percival paying for her daughter to go to an asylum. But yesterday, Mrs Catherick asked me not to mention her visit to Sir Percival. That was an odd thing to say, wasn't it, Miss?'

Odd, indeed! But then we had to turn our attention to the poor dog, which, despite our efforts, died a little while later. It was a sad thing to happen on my first day at Blackwater.

*  *  *

Later that evening the travellers returned. After my first happiness at meeting Laura, I felt there was a strangeness between us and I realized she had changed. I was sure we would soon get back to normal, but she had lost her innocent openness. She was unwilling to talk about her married life, and I saw that there were no warm feelings between her husband and her. It wasn't long before she asked me about Walter — 'Have you heard from him? Is he well and happy?' — and it was clear to me that she loved him as deeply as ever.

As for Sir Percival, his manners are sharper and less pleasant. On meeting me he simply said, 'Hello, Miss Halcombe. Glad to see you again,' — and then walked past me. Little things seem to annoy him a great deal. For example, the housekeeper told him a man had called to speak to him a week ago but had left no name. Sir Percival demanded a description of the man, which poor Mrs Michelson was unable to give, and Sir Percival stormed out of the room in great anger.

Laura was certainly right about Madame Fosco. Never have I seen such a change in a woman. As Eleanor Fairlie (aged thirty-seven), she wore bright clothes, was silly and foolish, and always talked nonsense. As Madame Fosco (aged forty-three), she wears only grey or black, and sits for hours in silence, doing needlework, rolling up cigarettes for the Count, or just looking at him with the eyes of a loyal dog.

And the man who has achieved this extraordinary change, the man who has tamed this wild Englishwoman? Yes, what can I say about the Count? He looks like a man who could tame anything. If he had married me, I would have made his cigarettes, as his wife does. I would have held my tongue when he looked at me, as she holds hers.

How can I explain the power, the attraction, the force that comes from this man? There are many unlikeable or unattractive things about him. For example, he is enormously fat; he seems to have false hair; he is at least sixty years old. He is lazy, jumps at the slightest sudden sound, and has a peculiar fondness for pet animals. He has brought with him a variety of birds and a whole family of white mice, which he often kisses and calls loving names, just as a child might do.

And yet, and yet... He is fat, but moves lightly and easily, like a dancer. There is a calmness and a strength about his smooth, unlined face, and his voice is persuasive, gentle, hard to resist. His knowledge of the English language is perfect and he is a well-known expert in chemical science. He speaks in baby language to his white mice, but he talks with intelligence and charm about books in every language, and brings to his conversation experience of life in half the capitals of Europe.

But it is his eyes that I shall always remember — his cold, clear, beautiful grey eyes, eyes which held such a frightening power that I shiver even now to think of it.

I could discover very little about his past from Sir Percival. I only learnt that he had not been to Italy for years; I wondered if this was for political reasons. It seemed he had saved Sir Percival from great danger in Rome once and they had been the closest of friends ever since. It was quite clear that Sir Percival was always anxious to please him and would never go against his wishes.

I wonder whether I am afraid of him too. I certainly never saw a man I would be more sorry to have as an enemy.

*  *  *

At lunchtime, a few days after they all returned, a man called Mr Merriman arrived, asking to see Sir Percival urgently. Sir Percival had clearly not expected the visit and looked both alarmed and angry as he left the table.

Neither Laura nor I had any idea who Mr Merriman was, but the Count told us he was Sir Percival's lawyer. I wondered what had happened, as a lawyer does not usually travel from London to Hampshire unless sent for. Mr Merriman must be the bringer of important news — either good or bad.

Count Fosco obviously read my thoughts and said softly to me, 'Yes, Miss Halcombe, something has happened.'

Later in the day I was coming from my room when I saw Sir Percival and his lawyer crossing the hall downstairs. They spoke quietly, but clearly enough for their words to reach my ears.

'Yes, Sir Percival,' I heard the lawyer say, 'it all depends on Lady Glyde.'

I immediately stopped when I heard Laura's name and, although I knew it was wrong, continued to listen.

'You understand, Sir Percival, Lady Glyde must sign her name in the presence of two witnesses. If this is done in a week's time, everything will be all right. If not, I may be able to get them to accept a document promising payment in three months. But how that money is to be obtained by then... '

They went into the library and I heard no more, but it seemed that Sir Percival had a serious debt and that the solution to it depended on Laura. I immediately went to tell Laura what I had heard. She did not seem surprised.

'I was afraid of something like this,' she said, 'when I heard about that strange gentleman who called, without leaving his name. He had probably come to ask for his money. But don't worry, Marian. I won't sign anything that I might later regret.'

In the evening Sir Percival was unusually polite and pleasant to all of us. What did this mean? I thought I could guess — I was afraid Laura could guess — and I was sure Count Fosco knew. I saw Sir Percival looking at him for approval more than once during the evening. The Count was certainly aware of Sir Percival's financial problems.

The next morning Sir Percival asked Count Fosco, Laura, and myself if we would go to the library for a minute after lunch for a small business matter. Before lunch, however, we all went for a walk to the lake, stopping at the boat-house for a rest.

'Some people call the lake pretty,' said Sir Percival, pointing to the view. 'I call it ugly. It looks just the place for a murder, doesn't it? What do you think, Fosco?'

'My dear Percival,' the Count protested, 'the water is too shallow to hide a body. Only a fool would murder someone here. A wise man would choose somewhere else.'

'Wise men do not murder,' said Laura, looking at him with dislike. 'I am sure you cannot give me an example of a wise man who has been a criminal.'

'My dear lady,' said the Count, 'it is impossible to give an example, because a wise man's crime is never found out.'

As he spoke, he was playing with his white mice in their little cage, and suddenly noticed that one of them was missing. A few seconds later he found the little animal under a seat, but also found something which seemed to shock him.

'Percival,' he said, 'come here. Look at this in the sand. Blood!'

Everyone seemed alarmed, so I had to explain about the wounded dog I had found.

'Whose dog was it?' asked Sir Percival.

'The housekeeper said it was Mrs Catherick's dog,' I replied, remembering too late that the visit was meant to be kept secret.

'What the devil was Mrs Catherick doing here?'

This question came with such rudeness and anger that I turned away. Count Fosco laid his hand on Sir Percival's arm.

'My dear Percival! Gently, gently!'

To my great surprise, Sir Percival apologized to me, and Count Fosco then said, 'Why not question the housekeeper, Percival, since she seems to know all about it?'

Sir Percival took the point, and immediately left us to return to the house.

The Count seemed fascinated by Mrs Catherick and wanted to know all about her visit. I tried to say as little as possible, but Laura asked questions too, and in the end the Count knew as much as we did about Mrs Catherick and her daughter Anne. I was quite sure, from his surprise at the story, that the Count had known nothing of Anne Catherick, and uneasily I wondered why Sir Percival had not told his closest friend.

When we went back to the house, Sir Percival came to greet us. 'I am sorry to say I have to leave you. I have to drive a long way and won't be back until tomorrow. First, though, I would like to finish that little business matter. Will you come into the library? It won't take a minute.'

In the library he got a document out of a cupboard and put it on the table. It was folded in such a way that all the writing was hidden and only the places to sign were visible.

Handing a pen to Laura, he said, 'Sign there. You and Fosco are to sign afterwards, Miss Halcombe.'

'What do you want me to sign?' Laura asked quietly.

'I have no time to explain. I have to leave. It's just business,' he said angrily. 'Women don't understand business. Just sign it.'

'But surely I ought to know what I am signing.'

'I see. So you're saying you don't trust me! Is that it? What kind of a wife is that?'

To help Laura, I said, 'I am afraid I cannot be a witness if she doesn't understand what she is signing.'

Sir Percival turned to me furiously. 'How dare you! You're a guest in my house and you take my wife's side against me!'

'Control your unfortunate temper, Percival,' said the Count, and I heard him whisper to him, 'You idiot!'

But Laura had put the pen down and moved to my side.

'Lady Glyde is right,' the Count then said. 'Let the signature wait until tomorrow.'

Sir Percival swore at him, but moved away from the table.

'All right, then,' he said, 'until tomorrow. Anyway, I have to go. But you will sign tomorrow or —' He gave his wife a cold, hard stare, then went out.

As Laura and I moved to the door, the Count approached us. 'You have just seen Sir Percival at his worst,' he said. 'As his old friend, I apologize for him and promise he won't behave like that tomorrow.'

I had begun to realize that I could not hope to remain at Blackwater Park now without the influence and support of the Count, so I answered by thanking him warmly. Then I led Laura out and took her up to my room for a rest.

While we were there, she told me how cruel Sir Percival had been to her since their marriage and how unhappy she was. I tried to calm her and to find a solution to the problem of the signature. Suddenly I had the idea of writing to Mr Gilmore's partner, Mr Kyrle, and asking for his advice. In my letter I also asked him to get a messenger to bring the reply by one o'clock the next day. I then put the letter in the post-bag in the hall. Just at that moment Madame Fosco appeared and asked to speak to me in the garden. She spoke to me for a full half-hour about how much sympathy she had for me. I found this very odd indeed since she had shown very little interest in me before.

When I finally returned, I saw the Count also putting a letter in the post-bag. For some reason I decided to check my letter was properly closed, so I got it out of the bag. This was lucky, as I found the envelope had come open. How strange, I thought. Perhaps there had been something wrong with it...

Or perhaps...

No! There could be no other explanation.


absent adj. not present 不在场的

free of not containing or subject to 没有

enormous adj. very large, huge 非常大的

gloomy adj. dismal, depressing 阴暗的;阴郁的

creature n. an animal 动物

neighbourhood n. the surrounding area 附近

odd adj. extraordinary, strange 反常的;奇怪的

storm v. move violently or angrily 气愤地走

tame v. make tame 驯服

hold one's tongue be silent 不说话

enormously adv. very, quite 非常

frightening adj. terrifying 使人害怕的

go against be contrary to 反对

urgently adv. requiring immediate action or attention 急迫地

obtain v. acquire, secure 得到;获得

library n. a room containing a collection of books 书房

aware adj. conscious or having knowledge 清楚;知道

murder n. killing unlawfully with a premeditated motive 谋杀

rudeness n. being impolite or offensive 无礼

fascinated adj. showing great interest in 非常感兴趣的

fold v. bend or close something over upon itself 折叠

furiously adv. extremely angry 极度气愤地

swear v. use indecent language 骂人

stare n. a staring gaze

messenger n. a person who carries a message 信使

properly adv. fittingly; suitably 适当地

5.需要签字的文件

漫长、孤寂的六个月过去了。除去思念不在身边的朋友们,我无所事事。我收到一封沃尔特·哈特里特的来信,是他到达洪都拉斯,进入林地之前写的。从那以后,他就没有了任何消息。安妮·凯瑟里克和克莱门茨太太没有任何音信。可怜的吉尔摩先生病得很厉害,不得不停止工作。他的工作由他的合伙人克尔先生代理。维西太太搬到了伦敦,和她妹妹住在一起。我想费尔利先生一定暗自高兴这庄园里没有了女人。

我最思念的当然是劳拉。她来过许多信,但是内容都非常简单。她说她挺好的,却只字不提她丈夫,也不提福斯科伯爵。他们是在奥地利相见的,而不是在意大利。从她的沉默我看得出,她不喜欢他。她只是说到埃莉诺姑妈,就是福斯科夫人,比以前话少了,也更理智了。

*  *  *

6月11日,我来到布莱克沃特庄园,珀西瓦尔爵士在汉普郡的家。等待终于快结束了,我异常兴奋。第二天,劳拉同她丈夫就要回来了,一同来的还有福斯科伯爵夫妇,他们要在布莱克沃特度过这个夏天。

早上,管家米切尔森太太领我参观了房子。这是一幢很古老的房子,多处是厚厚的尘土,没有人住。偌大的房子只有一部分还比较舒适,可以住人。

之后,我去看了看花园和园林。花园很小,维护得也不好。这周围树木非常多,遮蔽了房子。我发现了树林中的一条小路,沿着小路走了半英里之后是一个湖。这是一个潮湿僻静的地方。平静漆黑的湖水和长长的树影使这里笼上了一层阴暗、凄凉的色彩。湖的附近有一个破旧的船屋,里面有几个座位,我走进去坐下休息。

我并不是一个胆小的人,但是听见座位底下传来急促的喘息声,我还是惊得一下子跳了起来。其实,那是只狗——一只黑白相间的小狗,身子的一侧有子弹的伤痕。我把可怜的小东西带回房子里,叫来米切尔森太太帮我。

米切尔森太太进来看见地上躺着的小狗,马上大声说:“噢,这一定是凯瑟里克太太的狗!”

“是谁的狗?”我非常吃惊地问。

“凯瑟里克太太的。你认识她吗?她来这里打听过她女儿的消息。”

“什么时候?”

“就是昨天。她听说有人在附近看见过她女儿安妮。可是没人知道这件事。我想这条狗可能跑到树林里去,让看林人给打了。”

我尽量让自己听起来不是过分好奇,“你是不是认识凯瑟里克太太好多年了?”

“噢,也不是,哈尔库姆小姐。我以前没见过她。她住在离这里25英里远的韦明翰。我听说过她,因为珀西瓦尔爵士出钱送她女儿去精神病院。但是昨天,凯瑟里克太太让我别跟珀西瓦尔爵士讲她来过的事。这有点儿怪,是吧,小姐?”

奇怪,的确奇怪!但是,我们得把注意力集中到那只小狗身上,虽然我们尽力挽救,没过多久它还是死了。我第一天到布莱克沃特就发生了一件令人伤心的事。

*  *  *

当天晚上,旅行者们都回来了。我见到劳拉的高兴劲儿刚过,就觉得我们之间有一种奇怪的感觉,我意识到她变了。我相信,我们之间很快就会像从前一样。但是她好像失去了原来的纯真和坦诚。她不愿谈自己的婚后生活,而且我发现她同她丈夫之间毫无亲密可言。她很快就向我问起沃尔特:“你收到他的信了吗?他好吗?”显而易见,她还在深深地爱着他。

至于珀西瓦尔爵士,他的脾气变得越发暴躁,越发不讨人喜欢。见到我,他只是简单地说了声“你好,哈尔库姆小姐。很高兴又见到你。”然后就从我身边走过去了。一点点小事也会让他大为恼火。举个例子,米切尔森太太告诉他一个星期前有个男人来找他,但没有留下姓名。珀西瓦尔爵士问那人什么模样,可怜的米切尔森太太说不上来,于是珀西瓦尔爵士勃然大怒,气急败坏地走出房间。

关于福斯科夫人,劳拉说得很对。我从未见过哪个女人身上会发生如此大的变化。她是埃莉诺·费尔利小姐的时候(当时她37岁),经常穿鲜亮的衣服,说傻话,做傻事。她成了福斯科夫人以后(现在她43岁),只穿灰色和黑色的衣服,而且经常几个小时坐在那里一声不吭地做针线,给伯爵卷烟或者像一条忠诚的狗一样望着伯爵。

那么,那个导致了如此变化,驯服了这么一个桀骜不驯的英国女人的男人呢?对,我该怎么描述伯爵呢?他好像可以驯服一切。假如他娶了,我也会像他妻子一样给他卷烟,我也会像她一样被他看一眼就闭上嘴。

我应该怎么解释这个男人的魔力、魅力和影响呢?其实,他身上有许多不招人喜欢的地方。比方说,他体形肥胖,似乎还戴假发,而且少说也有60岁了。他人很懒,听到任何一点儿响动都会跳起来,还特别爱养宠物。他带来各种各样的鸟和一大窝白鼠。他就像小孩子一样,时常亲吻这些宠物,用昵称叫它们。

可是,可是……他身体肥胖,但动作像舞蹈演员一样轻巧灵便。他的脸很光滑,没有皱纹;表情沉稳庄重。他的声音很柔和,有一种难以抵挡的魅力。他精通英语,还是个化学家。他用儿语对白鼠讲话,但是谈到用任何语言写作的书籍,他都睿智机敏,滔滔不绝。他到过一半欧洲国家的首都。他经常谈起在那些城市的经历。

但让我铭记在心的是他的眼睛——一双冷酷、明亮、好看的灰眼睛。他的眼睛有一种慑人的威力,我现在想起来还会打哆嗦。

关于他的过去,我从珀西瓦尔爵士那儿知道的很少。我只知道他很多年没回意大利了,不知道是不是由于政治原因。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士在罗马遇到大难,伯爵帮助他脱离了危险。从那以后,他们成了密友。很明显,珀西瓦尔爵士总是力图讨好伯爵,从不跟他对着干。

我不知道自己是不是也害怕他。但是,他是我所见过的人中我最不愿与之成为敌人的。

*  *  *

他们旅行回来几天后,吃午饭的时候,一个叫梅里曼的人来了,要求马上见珀西瓦尔爵士。看得出,珀西瓦尔没想到这个人会来,他起身出去的时候显得既吃惊又生气。

劳拉和我都不知道梅里曼先生是何许人。伯爵告诉我们他是珀西瓦尔爵士的律师。我不知道出了什么事,因为除了被唤而来,律师是不会从伦敦到汉普郡来的。梅里曼先生一定带来了什么重要消息——不管是好消息还是坏消息。

福斯科伯爵显然看出了我的心事,轻声对我说:“没错,哈尔库姆小姐,确实出事了。”

后来,我从房里出来,看见珀西瓦尔爵士和律师正穿过楼下的大厅。他们说话的声音很低,但还是清晰地传进我的耳朵里。

“是的,珀西瓦尔爵士,”我听见律师说,“一切都取决于格莱德夫人了。”

听到劳拉的名字,我马上停住了脚步。我知道这样做不好,但还是接着往下听。

“你知道,珀西瓦尔爵士,格莱德夫人必须在两个证人在场的情况下签字,只要这件事在一星期之内办妥,一切都好说。如果不行,我可以准备一份文件,向他们保证三个月后付款。可是,三个月后怎么能弄到钱呢……?”

他们走进书房,下面的话我听不见了。好像珀西瓦尔爵士欠了一大笔债,而还债就取决于劳拉。我立即把刚刚听到的消息告诉了劳拉,她看上去一点儿也不惊讶。

“我料到会出这种事,”劳拉说,“在我听说来了一位没有留下姓名的陌生人时,我就料到了。那人很可能是来要钱的。不过别怕,玛丽安,任何今后我可能后悔的文件,我都不会签的。”

那天晚上,珀西瓦尔爵士对我们大家异乎寻常地客气。这说明什么呢?我想我能猜出来——劳拉也能猜出来——而且我敢肯定福斯科伯爵清楚其中的奥秘。我注意到珀西瓦尔有好几次都用眼神征求伯爵的意见。伯爵肯定清楚珀西瓦尔爵士的经济困境。

第二天早上,珀西瓦尔爵士让福斯科伯爵、劳拉还有我午饭后到书房来一下,谈一点事情。午饭前我们一同散步来到了湖边,在船屋里歇脚。

“有人说这湖很美,”珀西瓦尔爵士指着周围的景色说,“我觉得它很丑,像个发生凶案的地方,不是吗?你觉得呢,福斯科?”

“我亲爱的珀西瓦尔,”伯爵反对道,“这里的水太浅了,根本藏不住尸体,只有傻子才在这里谋杀。聪明人会选择别的地方。”

“聪明人不会去杀人的,”劳拉一面说着,一面不高兴地看着伯爵,“我相信你找不出一个聪明人犯罪的例子。”

“亲爱的夫人,”伯爵说,“我可找不出例子,因为聪明人犯罪不会让人知道。”

伯爵一边说着,一边摆弄着小笼子里的白鼠。他突然发现少了一只,但很快在一个座位底下找到了它,同时还发现了让他大吃一惊的东西。

“珀西瓦尔,快过来。你看这沙子,上面有血!”他说。

大家都很吃惊,我不得不告诉他们我发现那只受伤的狗的事情。

“谁的狗?”珀西瓦尔爵士问。

“管家说是凯瑟里克太太的。”我回答,忽然想起来这应该是秘密,可是太晚了。

“凯瑟里克太太到这儿来干什么?”

珀西瓦尔问得既气愤又无礼,我转过身去。福斯科伯爵拍了拍珀西瓦尔的胳膊。

“亲爱的珀西瓦尔!别着急,别着急!”

出乎我的意料,珀西瓦尔给我道了歉。伯爵接着说:“为什么不问问管家呢,珀西瓦尔?她好像知道事情的来龙去脉。”

珀西瓦尔爵士接受了这个建议,马上告辞回了庄园。

伯爵似乎对凯瑟里克太太非常感兴趣,想了解她那次来的所有情况。我尽量少透露信息,可是劳拉也问这问那。最后,我们知道的关于凯瑟里克太太以及她女儿安妮的情况,伯爵全都知道了。从伯爵惊讶的表情我可以断定,在这之前他对安妮·凯瑟里克一无所知。我很纳闷,为什么珀西瓦尔爵士不告诉他的好朋友这些事。

我们回到庄园,珀西瓦尔爵士过来同我们打招呼,“很抱歉,我得跟大家告辞。我要赶很长一段路,明天才能回来。不过,我想走之前了结那件小事。到书房来好吗?一会儿就好。”

来到书房,他从柜子里取出一份文件放到桌子上。文件是叠起来的,文字部分都遮住了,只能看见签字的部分。

他把一支笔递给劳拉,说:“在这儿签字吧。哈尔库姆小姐,你和福斯科等会儿再签。”

alt

“你要我签的是什么文件?”劳拉平静地问。

“我没时间解释,我得走了,就是一份公文,”珀西瓦尔很不高兴地说,“你们女人不懂,你就签字吧。”

“我当然有理由知道我签的是什么。”

“我明白了,你的意思是你不信任我!对吗?这叫什么妻子?”

我站在劳拉一边,说:“如果她不知道签的是什么,那我恐怕无法做证人。”

珀西瓦尔爵士愤怒地转向我,“你好大的胆子!你是我的客人,可却站在我妻子一边同我作对!”

“控制一下你的臭脾气,珀西瓦尔,”伯爵说,我听他对珀西瓦尔耳语:“你这笨蛋!”

劳拉放下笔,走到我身旁。

“格莱德夫人说的对,”伯爵说,“签字的事明天再说吧。”

珀西瓦尔爵士朝他破口大骂,但还是走开了。

“那好吧,”珀西瓦尔说,“那就等明天。不管怎样,我现在得走了。但是,你明天必须签字,否则——”他恶狠狠地瞪了他妻子一眼,然后走出了房间。

劳拉和我往外走的时候,伯爵走了过来。“你们刚才看到了珀西瓦尔爵士脾气最差的样子,”他说,“作为他的老朋友,我替他道歉。我保证他明天不会这样了。”

我开始明白,现在要是没有伯爵的帮助,我是不大可能接续呆在布莱克沃特庄园的。我真心地感谢了他。然后,我拉着劳拉上楼,到我的房间休息一会儿。

在我的房间里,劳拉告诉我结婚后珀西瓦尔爵士对待她多么冷酷,她多么不开心。我努力安慰她,帮她想办法解决签字的问题。忽然,我想到了给吉尔摩先生的合伙人克尔先生写信,问问他的意见。我在信里叫他派一个信使第二天1点之前把回信带过来。写完后,我把信放到了大厅的邮袋里。就在这时,福斯科夫人走过来,约我到花园里谈谈。她跟我足足说了半个小时她有多么同情我。我觉得非常奇怪,因为她以前根本就不在意我。

我回到屋里,看到福斯科伯爵也在往邮袋里放信。不知出于什么原因,我决定查看一下我的信是不是封好了。于是,我把我的那封信拿了出来。我还真做对了,我发现信封是开着的。好奇怪呀,我心里想。也许有人在捣鬼……

也许……

没错!不会是别的原因。

6
An appointment by the lake

After dinner that evening, Laura and I went for a walk down to the lake. The atmosphere was gloomy and depressing, but at least we were alone.

'I want to have no secrets from you, Marian,' Laura said, 'but I'm sure you have already guessed what my married life is like. Sir Percival said such cruel things to me in Italy that I turned for comfort to my memories of those happy days with Walter Hartright. And I have to tell you, Marian, Sir Percival now knows that Walter is the man I loved.'

I stared at her, and what little hope I had left began to die.

'It was at a party in Rome. Some people from London said I should have drawing lessons and recommended a Mr Hartright. I could not control myself when I heard his name and my husband noticed. "So it was him, was it?" he said, with a horrible smile. "Well, we will see about Mr Hartright. You will be sorry, and so will he, to the end of your lives." And Marian, he uses this knowledge like a whip to punish me, day in, day out.'

'Oh, Laura!' I said, putting my arms around her. This was my fault — yes, my fault! I remembered the white despair of Walter's face as I told him to leave, as I tore these two young hearts apart. And I had done this for Sir Percival Glyde.

For Sir Percival Glyde.

*  *  *

It was growing dark when we set out for home, and as we left Laura seized my arm. 'Marian, look!'

By the lake was a dark figure, half hidden by the evening mist rising off the water. We began to walk quickly.

'I'm sure it's following us,' whispered Laura. 'Is it a man or a woman?' She was shaking with fear.

'It's hard to tell in this light,' I said, then called out, 'Who's there?' There was no answer.

We hurried back through the wood, and when we reached home, I sent Laura upstairs and went to find out where everyone was. The Count and his wife, the servants, the housekeeper — all were inside. The figure by the lake was no one from the house. So who could it have been?

The next day Laura discovered she had lost her bracelet and thought she must have dropped it near the lake. She went off to look for it while I waited for the messenger from Mr Kyrle.

One o'clock came. By now I was so suspicious of everyone in the house that I decided to slip out and meet the messenger myself. Taking great care not to be seen, I went down to the main gate and a little way along the road. Soon a cab appeared. I stopped it and said, 'Are you going to Blackwater Park?'

A man put his head out and said, 'Yes, with a letter for Miss Halcombe.'

'You may give the letter to me,' I said. 'I am Miss Halcombe.'

I read the letter quickly.


Dear Miss Halcombe — Your letter has caused me great anxiety. It seems very likely that Lady Glyde's signature is needed so that a Loan of all or part of her £20,000 can be made to Sir Percival. This is almost certainly illegal, and Lady Glyde should not sign any document until I have examined it first.

Sincerely, William Kyrle.


I read this very thankfully and told the messenger to say that I understood the letter. As I spoke these words, Count Fosco came round the corner and suddenly appeared in front of me. Completely taken by surprise, I stared at him speechlessly. The messenger drove away in his cab, and the Count took my arm to walk home with me.

He talked pleasantly of this and that, and asked no questions about letters or messengers, so I assumed he had found out everything. He must have read my letter, returned it to the post-bag, and now knew that I had received an answer. There was no point in trying to deceive him so I said nothing, and just tried to seem quite cool and calm.

Back at the house we found that Sir Percival had returned, in an even worse mood than before, it seemed. When I told him Laura was out looking for her bracelet, he growled,

'Bracelet or no bracelet, I shall expect to see her in the library in half an hour.'

I turned to go into the house, but behind me heard the Count saying to Sir Percival, 'May I have five minutes' talk with you, here on the grass?'

They walked off together and I went inside to the sitting room, to think over all that had happened. Before long, however, the door opened softly and the Count looked in.

'Good news, Miss Halcombe,' he said. 'The business of the signature is put off for the moment. I'm sure you are relieved.'

He went out before I had recovered from my amazement. There could be no doubt that this change was due to his influence. His discovery of my writing to London and receiving an answer had caused him to interfere. Now there was even more to think about but, exhausted by worry and the heat of the day, my eyes closed and I fell into a little sleep.

I woke to find Laura's hand on my shoulder.

'Marian! The figure at the lake. I've just spoken to her! It's Anne Catherick. Look, she found my bracelet.'

Still half asleep, I stared at her stupidly. 'Anne Catherick?'

'Yes! I was searching in the boat-house,' Laura went on, 'when a woman in a white dress came in and said quietly, "Miss Fairlie. I have your bracelet. Your mother would not want you to lose it. "I jumped up, but her voice was so kind that I wasn't afraid. I asked her how she knew my mother. She said her name was Anne Catherick and asked me if I remembered as a little girl walking with her and my mother to the school in Limmeridge one day. I did remember. Suddenly I saw that we were like each other, but her face was pale and thin and tired. It was how my face might look after a long illness. "Why do you call me Miss Fairlie?" I asked, and she answered, "Because I love the name of Fairlie and hate the name of Glyde."'

'Did she say anything about your husband?' I asked.

'She said that after she wrote the letter, she did not have the courage to stay in Limmeridge to try to prevent my marriage to him. She was afraid he would find her and shut her up in the asylum again. But she was not afraid any more because she was so ill she thought she was dying. Then, Marian, she said that she and her mother knew a secret that my husband was afraid of.'

'Yes? Go on!' I said eagerly. 'What secret?'

'She was just going to tell me, when she thought she heard a noise outside. "We are not alone," she said, "someone is watching. Come here tomorrow at this time and I will tell you." Then she pushed me to one side and disappeared.'

'Oh, Laura, Laura, another chance lost! But you must keep the appointment tomorrow. It seems so important. I will follow you at a safe distance. She must not escape this time.'

We were silent for a time. Then Laura said anxiously, 'Why hasn't Sir Percival called us to the library to sign the document?'

'Oh yes! I forgot to tell you,' I said. 'Thanks to Count Fosco, the business of the signature has been postponed.'

'But why?' Laura said, amazed. 'If Sir Percival urgently needs money, how can it be postponed?'

'I heard Sir Percival's lawyer mention a second plan — to give a document promising payment in three months.'

'Oh, Marian!' she said. 'That would be such a relief.'

'Yes, it would. Let's hope that it's true.'

That evening Sir Percival was polite, even pleasant, especially to Laura. This must have been due to the Count's influence, and it worried me. What lay behind it? I was sure that Sir Percival's sudden journey yesterday had been to Welmingham, to question Mrs Catherick. What had he learnt? What were his plans? As the evening passed, I grew more and more uneasy, and I went to bed feeling very anxious about what the next day would bring.

*  *  *

I was not wrong to be anxious. The next day Laura and I arranged that after lunch she would go alone to the boat-house, and that I would follow a little later, taking great care that Anne Catherick did not see me, in case she was frightened by the appearance of another stranger.

Sir Percival had gone out earlier in the morning and did not appear even for lunch, so it was quite easy to put our plan into action. However, when I came quietly up to the back of the boat-house, I heard no voices, no sounds of movement, nothing. Soon I was searching inside the boat-house, and softly calling Laura's name. But no one answered and no one appeared. Outside, I searched the ground for signs, and found the footprints of two people in the sand — big footprints like a man's and small footprints, which I was sure were Laura's. There was also a little hole in the sand by the wall of the boat-house.

Desperate with worry, I hurried back to the house. The first person I met was Mrs Michelson, the housekeeper.

'Do you know,' I asked, 'whether Lady Glyde has come in?'

'Yes, she has, Miss Halcombe. And I am afraid something unfortunate has happened. Lady Glyde ran upstairs in tears and Sir Percival has told me to dismiss her servant, Fanny.'

My heart sank. Fanny was Laura's personal servant from Limmeridge, and the only person in the house we both trusted.

I ran upstairs to Laura's room. Her door was shut, and there was one of Sir Percival's house servants standing in front of it.

'Move away,' I said. 'Don't you see that I want to go in?'

'But you mustn't go in,' she answered. 'I have my orders.'

Wild with anger, I turned and went downstairs to find Sir Percival. He was in the library with the Count and Countess.

'Am I to understand that your wife's room is a prison?' I asked, staring him full in the face.

'Yes, that is what you are to understand,' he answered.

'Take care how you treat your wife!' I shouted furiously. 'There are laws to protect women, and I will use those laws.'

Instead of answering me, he turned to the Count. The Count looked at me with his calm, cold, grey eyes. But it was the Countess who spoke.

'Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Percival,' she said suddenly. 'But I cannot remain in a house where ladies are treated as your wife and Miss Halcombe have been treated today!'

Sir Percival stared at her in shocked silence, knowing, as I did, she would not have said this without the Count's permission.

'I agree with my wife,' the Count said quietly.

Sir Percival swore, then whispered angrily, 'All right, have your own way.' With these words he left the room.

'We have made the worst-tempered man in England see reason,' said the Count. 'Thanks to your courage, Miss Halcombe, this insulting situation is now ended.'

I tried to speak normally, but could not. The Count left the library, then returned a few minutes later to say that Lady Glyde had the freedom of her own house again. Immediately I rushed upstairs to Laura's room. She was alone inside and I was in such a hurry that I did not close the door properly behind me.

'Marian!' she said thankfully. 'How did you get here?'

'It was the Count's influence, of course,' I said.

'That horrible man!' she cried. 'He's a miserable spy!'

Just then we heard a knock on the door. It was the Countess, bringing me a handkerchief I had dropped. Her face was white, and I saw in her eyes that she had been listening at the door.

'Oh, Laura,' I said when she had gone, 'you shouldn't have called the Count a spy. We shall both regret it.'

'But he is a spy, Marian! There was someone watching me at the lake yesterday, and it was him. He told Sir Percival, who watched and waited all morning for me and Anne Catherick. But she didn't come — I found a note from her hidden in a hole in the sand. She said she'd been followed yesterday by a fat old man. He hadn't caught her, but she was afraid to come back this afternoon. She hid this note very early in the morning, and said she would see me again soon to tell me Sir Percival's secret.'

'What happened to the note?' I said. 'Have you got it?'

'No. While I was reading it, Sir Percival appeared. He took it from me and demanded to hear everything Anne Catherick had said. He held my arm so tightly! — look, see how he's bruised it. What could I do, Marian? I was helpless! I told him everything.'

I looked at the bruises on Laura's arm, and felt such furious hatred for Sir Percival that I dared not speak.

'But he didn't believe me,' Laura went on. 'He said he knew she had told me more and that he would lock me up until I had confessed the truth. Then he took me back to the house, gave orders for Fanny to leave, and locked me in my room. Oh, Marian, he was like a madman! What are we to do?'

'He is mad — mad with fear. He thinks you know his secret,' I said. 'I must act now to protect you — who knows how long I will be allowed to stay here?' I thought hard for a few minutes. 'I will write two letters and give them to Fanny to take with her. I can't trust the post-bag here any more. One for Mr Kyrle, telling him of your bruises and Sir Percival's violent behaviour.'

'And who is the other letter for?' asked Laura anxiously.

'For Mr Fairlie,' I said. 'Your lazy, selfish uncle. I'll make him invite you for a visit to Limmeridge, without your husband.'

I left her then and went to my room to write the letters. Fanny had already gone and was staying the night in the little hotel in the village, before beginning the long journey to Cumberland the next day. I decided I had time before dinner to walk to the village and back, so I slipped quietly out of the house and set off.

From time to time I looked behind me. Was I being followed? Or was my imagination playing tricks on me? By now I was suspicious of everything — every tiny sound, every shadow on the road, every breath of wind. Earlier, while writing the letters, I thought I had heard the rustle of a silk dress outside my door. I had even wondered if someone had been in my room, looking through the things in my desk. I hurried on, trying to put these thoughts out of my mind.

When I got to the little hotel, I saw Fanny in her room. She was very upset at leaving Laura, and started crying, but stopped when I told her that Lady Glyde and I needed her help.

'Here are two letters,' I said. 'Post the one addressed to Mr Kyrle in London tomorrow, and deliver the other to Mr Fairlie yourself when you get home to Limmeridge. Keep them safe!'

Fanny put the letters down the front of her dress. 'They'll stay there, miss,' she said, 'till I've done what you tell me.'


day in, day out one day after another 一天又一天地

seize v. take hold of forcibly or suddenly 紧紧抓住

illegal adj. contrary to law 不合法的

assume v. take or accept as being true, without proof 推想

growl v. murmur angrily 咕哝

put off postpone 推迟

exhaust v. use up the strength or resources of a person 筋疲力尽

postpone v. put off 推迟

footprint n. the impression left by a foot or shoe 脚印;鞋印

dismiss v. discharge from employment 辞退

hospitality n. the friendly and generous reception or entertainment of guests or strangers 热情款待

insulting adj. offending one self-respect or modesty 侮辱性的

bruise v. inflict a bruise on 使受淤伤

selfish adj. deficient in consideration for others 自私的

breath n. slight movement of air 轻风

6.湖畔之约

那天晚饭后,劳拉和我散步来到湖边。周围的环境昏暗而压抑,但至少我们可以单独在一起。

“我不愿对你有任何秘密,玛丽安,”劳拉开口说,“但是,我相信你已经猜到我婚后的生活是什么样子。在意大利,珀西瓦尔爵士跟我说了很多恶毒的话,我只能借助回忆同沃尔特·哈特里特在一起的幸福时光来寻求安慰。我得告诉你,玛丽安,珀西瓦尔爵士现在已经知道沃尔特是我所爱的人了。”

我的眼睛紧盯着她,心中仅存的一线希望也开始泯灭了。

“那是在罗马的一次聚会上,几个从伦敦来的朋友说我应该学学绘画,并向我推荐哈特里特先生。听到他的名字,我无法控制自己的感情,这些被我丈夫看到了。‘就是他,对吗?’他狞笑着问我,‘哈特里特先生的事我们走着瞧。你和他都会后悔一辈子的。’玛丽安,他抓住这件事一天又一天地折磨我。”

“噢,劳拉!”我搂住她。这都是我的错——是的,是我的错!我还记得我告诉沃尔特必须离开的时候,他脸上那惨淡绝望的表情。是我把两颗相爱的心拆开了。我这样做却成全了珀西瓦尔爵士。

成全了珀西瓦尔爵士。

*  *  *

天黑了下来,我们开始往回走。劳拉突然抓住我的胳膊,“玛丽安,你看!”

湖边有一个黑影,傍晚水面上升起的雾气遮住了我们的视线。我们开始加快脚步。

“我敢肯定有人跟踪我们,”劳拉低声说,“是男的还是女的?”她害怕得浑身发抖。

“在这样的光线里看不清,”我回答,然后大声喊道,“谁在那儿?”没有反应。

我们很快地穿过树林,回到家里。我把劳拉送上楼,然后就去查看家里的其他人都在哪儿。伯爵夫妇,仆人,管家——所有的人都在。湖边那个人影不是家里的人,那会是谁呢?

第二天,劳拉发现手镯丢了,她认为一定是丢在湖边了。她出去找手镯,我留在家里等克尔先生的信使。

1点到了。现在,我对家里的每个人都有怀疑,所以决定溜出去自己迎接信使。我尽量不让别人看见,独自来到大门口,又朝前走了一段。不一会儿,一辆马车过来了。我拦住车,问:“是去布莱克沃特庄园吗?”

一个男人探出头说:“是的,给哈尔库姆小姐送信。”

“把信给我吧,”我说,“我就是哈尔库姆小姐。”

我迫不及待地读了来信。

亲爱的哈尔库姆小姐,你的来信令我深感不安。情况很可能是只要有格莱德夫人的签字,珀西瓦尔爵士就可以借走她的20,000英镑或其中一部分,几乎可以肯定这是不合法的。任何我没有仔细看过的文件,格莱德夫人都不要签字。

此致,威廉·克尔

我满怀感激地读完信,告诉信使我明白了信的意思。正说着,福斯科伯爵突然从拐角那边走了出来,出现在我的面前。我没有任何思想准备,两眼盯着他,一句话也说不出来。信使赶车离开了,伯爵挽着我的手臂往回走。

路上,他兴致勃勃地说这说那,没有问任何关于信和信使的事,我想他已经什么都知道了。他肯定偷看了我的信,然后又放回到邮袋里,现在也知道我收到了回信。没有必要再瞒他什么,所以我什么话也不说,尽量表现得镇定。

回到庄园,我们发现珀西瓦尔爵士已经回来了,看上去情绪更加糟糕。我告诉他劳拉出去找手镯了,他生气地咕哝道:

“什么手镯不手镯的,我半小时后必须在书房见她。”

我转身朝屋里走,但听见身后伯爵对珀西瓦尔说:“我可以跟你在草坪上谈5分钟吗?”

他们俩一起走开了,我走进客厅,思考着刚发生的一切。不一会儿,门轻轻地开了,福斯科伯爵出现在门口。

“好消息,哈尔库姆小姐,”他说,“签字的事推迟了,我想你一定放心了吧。”

我还没来得及从惊讶中回过神来,他就出去了。毫无疑问,是他施加了影响才有现在的变化。他发现我给伦敦写信并且收到了回信,于是他开始干预。还有很多事需要考虑,但我实在累极了,再加上天热,我睁不开眼睛,就这么睡着了。

醒来后,我发现劳拉的一只手搭在我的肩上。

“玛丽安!湖边那个人影。我刚跟她谈过了!她是安妮·凯瑟里克。瞧,她找到了我的手镯。”

我还在半梦半醒之间,迷迷糊糊地看着她问:“安妮·凯瑟里克?”

“是的!我正在船屋里找手镯,”劳拉接着说,“一个穿白衣服的女人进来,轻声说:‘费尔利小姐,你的手镯在我这儿。你的母亲一定不希望你把它弄丢了。’我一下子跳了起来,但她的声音非常友善,我很快就不害怕了。我问她怎么认识我母亲。她告诉我她叫安妮·凯瑟里克,问我记不记得小时候有一天同她还有母亲一道去利默里奇的学校。我确实记得。我突然发现我们俩长得很相像,只是她的脸看上去苍白、消瘦、疲惫。我久病之后可能就是那个样子。‘你为什么叫我费尔利小姐?’我问她。她回答说:‘因为我喜欢费尔利这个姓,憎恨格莱德这个姓。’”

“她提到你丈夫了吗?”我问。

“她说她写完那封信以后,没有勇气再呆在利默里奇阻止我和他结婚。她害怕他找到她,再把她关进精神病院。但是现在她不怕了,因为她现在病得很厉害,就要死了。然后,玛丽安,她说她和她母亲知道一个令我丈夫非常害怕的秘密。”

“什么秘密?快说啊!”我急切地问,“什么秘密?”

“她刚要告诉我,就听见外面有响动。‘有人,’她说,‘有人在盯着我们。明天这个时间到这儿来,我再告诉你。’说完,她就推开我走了。”

“噢,劳拉,劳拉,又一个机会跑掉了!你明天一定要去,那个秘密一定非常重要。我跟你去,躲在远处不让她看见。这次可不能叫她再跑了。”

我们沉默了一会儿。然后,劳拉不安地问:“珀西瓦尔爵士怎么还没来叫我们去书房签字呢?”

“对了,我刚才忘了告诉你,”我说,“多亏了福斯科伯爵,签字的事推迟了。”

“为什么?”劳拉惊疑地问,“珀西瓦尔爵士那么急需钱,怎么会推迟呢?”

“我听珀西瓦尔爵士的律师提过另一个计划,要做一份保证三个月后还钱的文件。”

“噢,玛丽安!”她说,“那可太好了。”

“是很好,但愿这是真的。”

那天晚上,珀西瓦尔爵士对大家,尤其对劳拉,非常有礼貌,甚至可以说是非常好。这一定是伯爵的功劳,我对此很担心。这背后到底隐藏着什么?我想珀西瓦尔爵士昨天突然离开,肯定是去韦明翰找凯瑟里克太太了。他得到什么消息没有?他下一步想干什么?一个晚上,我越来越放心不下。睡觉时我对明天将要发生的事情异常担心。

*  *  *

我的担心没有错。第二天,劳拉和我商量好,午饭后她先一个人到船屋去,过一会儿我再去,尽量不让安妮·凯瑟里克看见我,以免她被我这个陌生人吓跑。

上午,珀西瓦尔爵士比往常出去得更早,连午饭也没来吃,因此我们实施计划也更容易一些。然而,我蹑手蹑脚来到船屋后面的时候,却听不到一点儿动静。我进去寻找,轻声叫着劳拉的名字。可是没有人回答,也没有人影。我来到屋外,仔细察看地面,发现沙地上有两个人的脚印——大一些的像是男人的,小一些的我敢肯定是劳拉的。船屋墙边的沙地上还有一个小坑。

我担心极了,赶忙回到庄园。我见到的第一个人是管家米切尔森太太。

“你知道格莱德夫人回来了吗?”我问。

“是的,她回来了,哈尔库姆小姐。可能出了什么不幸的事。格莱德夫人哭着跑上了楼,珀西瓦尔爵士叫我把她的仆人范妮辞退了。”

我的心一下子沉了下来。范妮是劳拉从利默里奇带来的贴身仆人,也是我们两人在这里唯一信任的人。

我跑上楼,来到劳拉的房门口。房门紧闭,珀西瓦尔的一个仆人站在门口。

“让开,”我大声说,“你没看见我要进去吗?”

“你不能进去,”仆人说,“我得听主人的吩咐。”

我肺都要气炸了,转身下楼去找珀西瓦尔爵士。他和伯爵夫妇正在书房。

“你妻子的房间是监狱吗?”我眼睛直盯着他问道。

“是的,你应该明白这点。”他回答。

“请注意你是如何对待你妻子的!”我愤怒地嚷着。“妇女受法律的保护,我会告你的。”

珀西瓦尔爵士没有接我的话,而是转向了伯爵。伯爵用他那平静、冷漠的灰眼睛看着我。但开口的是伯爵夫人。

“谢谢你的热情款待,珀西瓦尔爵士,”她突然说道。“但是,今天你的妻子和哈尔库姆小姐在这里受到如此的对待,我是不能再呆下去了!”

珀西瓦尔爵士目瞪口呆地盯着伯爵夫人,他跟我一样心里明白,没有伯爵的准许,她是不会说这番话的。

“我同意我妻子的话。”伯爵不紧不慢地说。

珀西瓦尔骂了一句,然后气哼哼地低声说:“好吧,你们要怎样就怎样吧。”说完,他走了出去。

“我们让英国脾气最坏的人明白道理了,”伯爵说,“多亏你的勇气,哈尔库姆小姐,这个令人难堪的局面终于结束了。”

我试图以正常的方式讲话,可是却做不到。伯爵走出了书房,几分钟后回来说,格莱德夫人在她自己的家里重获自由了。我立刻冲上楼来到劳拉的房间。她一个人在里面,我进去得太急了,没有关好门。

“玛丽安!”劳拉感激地说,“你是怎么进来的?”

“当然是伯爵帮的忙。”我回答。

“那个可怕的人!”她大声说,“他是个可恶的奸细!”

就在这时,我听到有人敲门。来的是伯爵夫人,她给我送刚才落在楼下的手绢。她脸色苍白,看了她的眼神,我就明白她一直在门口偷听。

“哦,劳拉,”伯爵夫人走了以后,我对劳拉说,“你不应该管伯爵叫奸细,我们都会后悔的。”

“他真的是奸细,玛丽安!昨天在湖边有人跟踪我,那人就是他。是他告诉珀西瓦尔的,珀西瓦尔整个上午都在等我和安妮·凯瑟里克。凯瑟里克没来,我在沙地小坑里找到一张纸条,上面说一个胖老头昨天跟踪她。那人没有抓住她,但是她今天下午不敢来了。她一大早就来藏了纸条,还说她会很快再来见我,告诉我珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。”

“那张纸条呢?”我问,“在你手里吗?”

“没有。我正在看的时候,珀西瓦尔爵士出现在我面前。他把纸条夺过去,要我告诉他安妮·凯瑟里克说了什么。他那么用力地抓我的手臂!——看,都青了。我能怎么办,玛丽安?我一点儿办法也没有,只好都告诉他了。”

我看着劳拉手臂上的伤,心里恨透了珀西瓦尔爵士却敢怒不敢言。

“可他还不相信我,”劳拉继续说道,“他说他知道凯瑟里克还告诉了我很多事,我不说实话,他就把我锁起来。然后他把我带回庄园,下令辞退范妮,还把我锁在房间里。噢,玛丽安,他简直像个疯子!我们该怎么办呢?”

“他是疯了——因为他害怕。他认为你知道了他的秘密,”我说,“我必须采取行动保护你——谁知道我还可以在这儿呆多久呢?”我冥思苦想了几分钟,“我要写两封信让范妮带走。我再也不能相信那个邮袋了。一封给克尔先生,告诉他你的伤和珀西瓦尔爵士的粗暴行为。”

“那另外一封呢?”劳拉迫不及待地问。

“给费尔利先生,”我回答,“你那懒惰、自私的叔叔。我要让他请你回一次利默里奇,不带你丈夫。”

离开劳拉,我回到自己的房间,开始写信。范妮已经离开了庄园,今晚住在村里的旅店,明天动身长途旅行去坎伯兰郡。我想我晚饭前有时间到旅店,然后再回来。所以,我悄悄地溜出庄园,朝村子走去。

我不时回头张望,看是否有人跟踪。或许是我的想象在作怪?现在,我开始怀疑一切——任何小的声响,路上的影子,一切风吹草动。刚才写信的时候,我觉得门外有丝绸衣服的响动。我甚至怀疑是否有人来我房间偷看过我桌子里的东西。我加快了脚步,尽量不去想这些。

来到小旅店,我在范妮的房间见到了她。离开劳拉让她难过得哭了起来。但是,当我告诉她格莱德夫人和我需要她的帮助时,她不哭了。

“这儿有两封信,”我说,“一封你明天到伦敦后寄给克尔先生,另一封你到利默里奇后亲手交给费尔利先生。一定把信收好。”

范妮把信塞到衣服里。“我把信放在这儿,小姐,”她说,“我会照你的吩咐去做。”

7
A conversation in the night

I arrived back at the house with only twenty minutes to get ready for dinner — and to slip into Laura's room to say that the letters were safely in Fanny's hands.

Laura looked pale. 'I'm not coming down to dinner,' she said. 'Sir Percival came to my door, shouting at me to tell him where Anne Catherick is.'

'At least that means he hasn't found her yet,' I said.

At dinner the Count looked hot and red in the face, and his clothes were a little untidy. Had he been out too, I wondered? He seemed troubled by some secret annoyance or anxiety, and was almost as silent as Sir Percival. At the end of the meal, when Madame Fosco and I left the table, the Count stood up too.

'Where are you going, Fosco?' Sir Percival said. 'Sit down and have another glass of wine. I want a quiet talk with you.'

'Not now, Percival. Later,' he answered.

Earlier in the day I had heard Sir Percival make the same request, and this was the second time the Count had postponed the talk. Why, I wondered? And what was it that Sir Percival wanted to discuss so urgently?

We went into the living room and Madame Fosco, usually so slow and deliberate in her movements, drank her tea at great speed and then slipped quietly out of the room. I began to leave too, but the Count stopped me, first by a request for more tea, then by asking my opinion on some music, and then by playing several noisy Italian songs on the piano. Eventually, I escaped from him and went up to Laura's room. Had she seen or heard anything of Madame Fosco, I asked? No, she had not. We talked together till ten o'clock, and then I went downstairs again to say goodnight. Sir Percival, the Count and his wife were sitting together in the living room. I noticed that Madame Fosco's face was now hot and red. Where had she been, and what had she been doing? As I looked at her, she gave a little smile, as though at some private joke.

I said goodnight to everybody, and as I left the room, I heard Sir Percival say impatiently to the Count, 'Come outside and have a smoke, Fosco.'

'With pleasure, Percival, when all the ladies have gone to bed,' replied the Count.

Up in my room, I could not stop myself thinking about this private discussion between Sir Percival and the Count, postponed all day and now, it seemed, about to take place in the silence and loneliness of the night. After a while, I went from my bedroom into my sitting room, and closed the door between the rooms. It was dark, as no candles were lit, and I looked out of the open window for some time, down into the blackness of the garden. There was a smell like rain in the still, heavy air.

Suddenly I saw two red points of light advancing in the dark and stopping below my bedroom window, inside which a candle was burning. One red point was small, the other was big. The Count smoking a cigarette, and Sir Percival smoking a cigar, I think. They could not see me in the darkness of my sitting room, so I waited to hear what they said.

'Why don't you come in and sit down?' Sir Percival said.

'Wait till we see that light go out,' replied the Count. 'When I know she's in bed, and I have checked the rooms on each side of the library, then we will talk.'

Such secrecy! I decided I must listen to this conversation, in spite of the Count's efforts to keep it private. The idea terrified me, but Laura's happiness — perhaps even her life — might depend on what I heard. How could I do it? I realized I could get out on to the flat verandah roof which ran past the bedrooms, about three feet below the windows. It was narrow, but there was room to move along it till I was above the library window. The Count and Sir Percival usually sat near the open window, smoking, and if they did, I would be able to hear them from above.

I went back to my bedroom, put on a long dark cloak with a hood, and put out the candle. Then, after a while, I returned to my sitting room and climbed out of the window on to the verandah roof. My heart began to beat very fast. I had to pass five windows — four were dark, but the fifth window was the Countess's room, and it looked out over the exact place above the library where I planned to sit. And there was still a light in it. I crept along the roof, then went down on my hands and knees to pass her window. As I passed, I looked up — and saw her shadow against the thin curtains at the window...

I stop breathing. Has she heard me? Will she look out? No, the shadow moves away, she's gone. Now I move to my position at the edge of the roof and begin to listen. Are they there, or have they gone elsewhere for their talk? Ah, I can hear the Count's voice.

'Miss Halcombe's light is out, the rooms next door are empty, the only window with a light in is my wife's — so now we may talk. We are at a serious crisis in our affairs, Percival, and we must decide about the future tonight.'

'It's a worse crisis than you think,' growls Sir Percival.

'Listen, Percival. This is our situation. We both came to this house in need of money and the only way of getting it was with the help of your wife. Now what did I tell you? I told you never to lose your temper with her, and especially never with her sister, Miss Halcombe. And have you remembered this? Not once. Your mad temper lost your wife's signature, lost the ready money, made Miss Halcombe write to the lawyer for the first time —'

'First time! Has she written again?'

'Yes, she has written again today.'

What! How does he know that? Did he follow me to the hotel? But even if he did, he couldn't have seen the letters — they went straight from my hand to Fanny's dress. So how does he know?

'You're lucky,' the Count continues, 'that you have me in the house to undo the harm that you do. Lucky that I said no when you were mad enough to make your wife a prisoner and keep her from Miss Halcombe. Can't you see that Miss Halcombe has the courage and understanding of a man? How I admire that woman! But she stands like a rock between us and that pretty little wife of yours. Now, the money. We have obtained a loan — a horribly expensive loan — by signing a document promising to repay it in three months. When the time comes, is there really no way to repay the money except by the help of your wife?'

'None.'

'What money do you actually get from your wife at present?'

'Only the income from her twenty thousand pounds.'

'Do you expect any more from your wife?'

'Absolutely nothing — except in the case of her death.'

'Aha! In the case of her death.'

A pause. It has begun to rain, and already I feel wet and cold.

Sir Percival again. 'If she leaves no children, I get her twenty thousand pounds.'

'Percival! Do you care about your wife?'

'Fosco! That's a very direct question.'

'Let's say your wife dies before the end of the summer — '

'Forget it, Fosco!'

'You would gain twenty thousand pounds.'

'Speak for yourself as well as for me, Fosco. You would also gain — my wife's death would be ten thousand pounds in your wife's pocket.'

'Percival, here is the position. If your wife lives, you pay that debt with her signature on the document. If your wife dies, you pay the debt with her death.'

The light in Madame Fosco's room goes out, and the verandah roof is now sunk in darkness. The rain continues. I Listen with every nerve in my body, memorizing word after word.

'Percival, you must now leave this matter in my hands. I have more than two months to find the solution, so let's not talk about it any more. Let me help you with your other difficulty — the difficulty that seems to have the name of Anne Catherick.'

'Look, Fosco, we may be friends, but we still have our secrets. This does not concern you. Please don't ask me about it.'

'My friend, I can respect a secret. So I won't ask you to tell me. But can I help you all the same?'

'If I don't find Anne Catherick, I'm a lost man. Both she and her mother know this — this secret. It could ruin me, Fosco. Anne Catherick has spoken to my wife and I'm sure she's told her.'

'But as your wife, surely it's in her interest to keep it a secret?'

'If she loved me, that would be true. But she's in love with someone she met before we married, a drawing teacher called Walter Hartright. And who helped Anne Catherick escape from the asylum? Hartright. Who saw her again in Cumberland? Hartright. He knows the secret, and my wife knows the secret. If they get together, they will use it against me.'

'Yes, yes, I see. Where is Mr Hartright?'

'Out of the country. He sailed for America.'

'Don't worry, then. I will deal with him if he ever comes back. Depend on it. But first we must find Anne Catherick. What about her mother? Can she be trusted?'

'It's in her interest not to tell anyone the secret.'

'Good. Now, how will I recognize Anne Catherick?'

'Easily. She's the pale, sickly likeness of my wife.'

A noise as a chair is pushed back. The Count has jumped to his feet and is walking about. He seems amazed.

'What!!! Are she and your wife related to each other?'

'Not at all.'

'And yet so alike? Well, I will know her when I see her.'

'What the devil are you laughing about, Fosco?'

'Just a thought, my good friend, just a thought. But enough for tonight. You will pay the debt and find Anne Catherick. I promise you. You can put your mind at rest, Percival.'

Not another word is spoken. I hear the library door close. I am wet to the skin, stiff and aching with the cold. At first I can't move, but slowly, painfully, I creep back to my window and climb in. As I fall on the floor, I hear the clock strike a quarter past one. Time passes. Somehow I manage to get up and put on dry clothes. I am burning hot — and shivering with cold. I know I must write down what I have heard, so I find paper and pen and write without stopping. The fever rises in me, burning, burning. I open the window for cool air...

Eight o'clock. Bright sunshine, which hammers at my eyes. My head aches, my bones ache, my skin burns, yet I cannot stop shivering. I lie down to sleep, my writing finished, and in my fever I see Count Fosco come into my room and read the pages I have written. He smiles. I am helpless — unable to move, speak, breathe... and I sink into the long, black night of illness...


untidy adj. not neat or orderly 不整齐的

deliberate adj. leisurely, unhurried 不慌不忙的

impatiently adv. lacking patience or tolerance 不耐烦地;着急地

go out put out 吹灭;熄灭

verandah n. an open area with a floor and a roof that is built on the side of a house on the ground floor 游廊

crisis n. time of danger or difficulty 危机

understanding n. the ability to understand or think 见识

memorize v. commit to memory 记住

in her interest as something that is advantageous to her 对她有利

hammer at inflict pain at 使疼痛

7.深夜密谈

我回到庄园时,只剩20分钟就要吃晚餐了——我还得溜进劳拉的房间,告诉她信已经安全地交给范妮了。

劳拉脸色苍白。“我不下楼吃晚饭了,”她说,“珀西瓦尔爵士刚来过,站在门口朝我大喊,要我告诉他安妮·凯瑟里克在哪儿。”

“这起码说明他还没找到她。”我说。

吃晚饭的时候,福斯科伯爵满脸通红,衣服也有些不整。他也出去了吗,我心里疑惑。他似乎有什么秘密的困扰,几乎和珀西瓦尔爵士一样一言不发。吃罢饭,伯爵夫人和我往外走的时候,伯爵也站起身。

“你去哪里,福斯科?”珀西瓦尔爵士问道,“坐下再喝一杯。我要同你单独谈一谈。”

“现在不行,珀西瓦尔。以后吧。”伯爵回答。

白天的时候我也听到珀西瓦尔爵士提出同样的要求,这是一天之内伯爵第二次推迟和珀西瓦尔谈话了。为什么呢?我不明白。珀西瓦尔爵士这么着急要和伯爵谈什么呢?

我们走进客厅,平常总是慢条斯理的伯爵夫人迅速地喝完茶,不声不响地走了出去。我也朝外面走,但是伯爵叫住了我。他先是要我帮他添茶,然后又问我对某些音乐的看法,还在钢琴上弹了几首闹哄哄的意大利曲子。最后,我才得以离开他,来到劳拉的房间。我问她有没有看见伯爵夫人或是听见她的动静?她说没有。我们俩一直聊到10点,我下楼跟大家道晚安。珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵夫妇都在客厅坐着。我注意到伯爵夫人的脸通红。她刚才去哪儿了,干什么去了?看到我在打量她,伯爵夫人笑了笑,好像我们两个私下开过什么玩笑似的。

我同大家道了晚安。离开客厅的时候,我听见珀西瓦尔爵士不耐烦地对伯爵说:“到外面来抽支烟,福斯科。”

“好的,珀西瓦尔。等女士们都去睡了以后。”伯爵说。

回到楼上的房间,我还在想珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵的密谈,拖了一天,到现在终于要在寂静的夜晚进行了。过了一会儿,我从卧室来到我的客厅,把房门关好。房间漆黑一片,没有点蜡烛。我透过窗子向外望了一会儿,外面的花园一片黑暗,宁静、潮湿的空气中有一种雨的味道。

突然,我看到黑暗中有两个红色的亮点在移动,然后在我卧室的窗下停住了,我卧室里点着一支蜡烛。一个亮点小,另一个大些。我想肯定是伯爵在抽烟卷,珀西瓦尔爵士在抽雪茄。我的客厅是黑的,他们看不见我。因此,我在客厅等着听他们说什么。

“为什么不进屋,坐下来谈?”珀西瓦尔爵士说。

“等到那蜡烛灭了再说,”伯爵说,“等她睡了,我再查看一下书房两边的房间,然后我们再谈。”

那么机密!不管伯爵怎样保密,我一定要听听这场谈话。这个想法使我很害怕,但是劳拉的幸福——甚或她的生命——可能都跟我听到的内容有关。我怎么去偷听呢?我想到可以从游廊的平顶上过去,平顶连着好几间卧室,比窗户大约低3英尺。顶子很窄,但还是可以过去,到达书房窗户的上面。伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士经常坐在敞开的窗子旁抽烟,如果是这样的话,我就可以从上面偷听他们的谈话了。

我回到卧室,穿上一件长长的带有兜帽的黑色斗篷,吹灭了蜡烛。呆了一会儿,我回到客厅,爬出窗户来到游廊的平顶上。我的心跳开始加速。我必须爬过五个窗子,其中四个已经没有了亮光,可第五个是伯爵夫人的房间,那儿恰好在书房上面,正是我要偷听的地方。而且,伯爵夫人的房间里还亮着烛光。我沿着平顶往前移动,然后手脚并用地爬过她的窗子。经过她窗下时,我抬头看了看——透过薄薄的窗帘看见她在窗前的身影……

我屏住呼吸。她是不是听见我在这儿了?她会向外看吗?没有,影子移开了,她走了。我来到平顶的边上,找好了偷听的位置。他们在这儿吗?会不会到别的地方去谈?啊,我听见伯爵的声音了。

“哈尔库姆小姐房间的蜡烛灭了,这两边的房间没人,唯一有亮光的窗户是我妻子的房间——好了,我们现在可以谈了。珀西瓦尔,我们的事现在出现了严重危机,今晚我们必须计划一下该怎么办。”

“事情比你想的还要糟。”珀西瓦尔爵士嘀咕着。

“听着,珀西瓦尔。这就是我们两人的处境。我们都是为了钱才到这个庄园来的,而得到钱的唯一途径是通过你的妻子。我跟你说过什么?我告诉你千万不要跟你妻子发脾气,尤其不能和她姐姐哈尔库姆小姐发脾气。可是你记住了吗?根本没有。你的坏脾气让我们失去了你妻子的签字,到手的钱没了,还让哈尔库姆小姐给律师写了第一封信——”

“第一封信?她又写信了吗?”

“是的,她今天又写信了。”

什么!他是怎么知道的?他是不是跟踪我去了旅店?但是就算他去了,也不会看到那两封信的——信是直接从我手里到了范妮的衣服里的。那他是怎么知道的呢?

“你很走运,”伯爵接着说,“有我在这儿帮你解决麻烦。你很走运,在你发疯一样把你的妻子当犯人关起来,不让她见哈尔库姆小姐的时候,我出来阻拦了你。你看不出来吗?哈尔库姆小姐具有男人一样的勇气和见识,我非常敬佩她!但是,她就像挡在我们和你那漂亮小妻子之间的一块巨石。现在说钱的问题。我们得到了一笔贷款——一笔代价极大的贷款——我们签了字,答应三个月后还钱。到时候,除了靠你妻子就没有任何办法还钱了吗?”

“没有。”

“你现在从你妻子那儿可以得到什么钱?”

“只有她那20,000英镑带来的收入。”

“你还能从你妻子身上得到更多的钱吗?”

“一分都没有——除非她死了”

“呵!除非她死了。”

谈话暂停了。天开始下雨,我感到身上又湿又冷。

珀西瓦尔爵士接着说:“如果她没留下孩子,我可以得到她那20,000英镑。”

“珀西瓦尔!你真的在乎你妻子吗?”

“福斯科!这个问题太直接了。”

“假如你妻子在夏末死去——”

“别说了,福斯科!”

“你会得到20,000英镑。”

“别光说我,还有你,福斯科。你也会受益,妻子死了,妻子口袋里就会装进10,000英镑。”

“珀西瓦尔,这就是现在的局面。如果你妻子活着,你需要得到她签字来还债;如果你妻子死了,你就用她的死来还债。”

福斯科夫人房间的烛光熄灭了,游廊顶上一团漆黑。雨还在下。我全神贯注地听着,把每个字都记在心里。

“珀西瓦尔,你现在必须把这件事交给我来办,我有两个多月的时间去想办法,现在咱们先不谈这个。让我来帮你解决另一个麻烦——那个好像和安妮·凯瑟里克这个名字有关的麻烦。”

“瞧,福斯科,我们或许是朋友,但我们都有各自的秘密。这件事与你无关。请你不要问我这件事。”

“我的朋友,我可以尊重你的秘密。我不问你的秘密是什么,但不管怎么说,我能帮你点儿什么吗?”

“假如找不到安妮·凯瑟里克,我就完了。她和她母亲都知道那个——那个秘密。那个秘密会毁了我,福斯科。安妮·凯瑟里克找过我妻子,我敢肯定她已经把秘密告诉我妻子了。”

“可是,作为你的妻子,保守这个秘密不也对她有好处吗?”

“如果她爱我,应该是这样的。但是,她爱上了一个她在我们结婚以前认识的人,一个叫沃尔特·哈特里特的绘画教师。是谁帮助安妮·凯瑟里克从精神病院逃走的?是哈特里特。又是谁在坎伯兰郡跟她见面?还是哈特里特。他知道这个秘密,我妻子也知道这个秘密。要是他们两个聚到一块儿,肯定利用这个秘密来对付我。”

“说的对,说的对,我明白了。哈特里特先生现在在哪儿?”

“在国外。他去美洲了。”

“那就不用担心了。他要是回来,我来对付他。你放心。不过我们还是要先找到安妮·凯瑟里克。她母亲呢?可信吗?”

“保守这个秘密对她有好处。”

“很好。不过我怎么才能认出安妮·凯瑟里克来?”

“这容易。她长得很像我妻子,只是脸色苍白,面容憔悴。”

我听见向后移动椅子的声响。伯爵站了起来,在屋里来回走动着,他显得非常惊讶。

alt

“什么!她跟你妻子有亲戚关系吗?”

“一点儿没有。”

“那就这么相像?我见到她会认出来的。”

“你到底在笑什么,福斯科?”

“只是一个想法,我的好朋友,一个想法而己。不过今晚就谈到这儿。你会还清债务,找到安妮·凯瑟里克的。我敢保证。你就放心吧,珀西瓦尔。”

谈话结束了。我听到书房的门关上了。我身上已经湿透,身体被冻得又僵又疼。起初整个人都动不了。我艰难地慢慢爬回我的窗边,爬进屋里。我跳到地板上时,听见钟响了,1点一刻。时间过得真快。我挣扎着起来,换上干衣服。我浑身发烫——同时也冷得打哆嗦。我明白我必须把听到的全都写下来,于是找出纸笔,开始不停地写起来。我烧得越来越厉害,浑身好像着了火。我打开窗户,让冷空气进来……

8点了。明媚的阳光使我的眼睛隐隐作痛。我头痛得非常厉害,全身酸痛,而且发烫,还不停地打哆嗦。我躺下睡觉,记录已经写完了。迷迷糊糊地,我看见福斯科伯爵进到我的房间,看了我写的东西。他笑了笑。我毫无办法——不能动,不能说话,不能呼吸……我陷入长长的昏迷,眼前一片黑暗……

8
Fever

While I lay unconscious in my illness, I knew nothing, of course, of the events happening around me. It was only much later that I learnt from other people what had happened.

When I eventually returned to Limmeridge, Fanny told me about the letters and the night she had left Blackwater.

'You left me at about seven, miss, and at nine o'clock I had another visitor — the Countess! Yes, I was so surprised. But she was very kind. She saw that I was upset at leaving and insisted on having some tea with me. So I drank my tea, and five minutes later I fainted — for the first time in my life! When I woke up, it was about half an hour later. A lady from the hotel was looking after me as the Countess had had to go home. I checked the letters in my dress, miss, and they were both there, quite safe.

'And just as you told me, in London I posted the letter to Mr Kyrle, and as soon as I got to Limmeridge, I delivered the other letter personally to Mr Fairlie. I told him all about being dismissed by Sir Percival and everything, and what had happened at the hotel, but, well, he didn't seem very interested, miss.'

That last piece of information did not surprise me in the least. Had Laura's uncle ever been interested in anybody except himself? When I went to talk to him, he was full of excuses.

'My nerves, dear Marian, remember my nerves! Yes, of course I will tell you about the letters, but please don't get excited and go around banging doors! Try to stay calm.'

'I suppose my letter about Laura upset you,' I said.

'Of course it did, dear Marian! What was I to do? You told me Laura needed to escape from her husband and to come to Limmeridge. But suppose Sir Percival had come after her? Think of the noise, the arguments, the banging of doors! That's why I wrote to you, to beg you to come here first by yourself, to talk the matter over with me.'

I never saw that letter, of course, as it arrived at Blackwater when I was unconscious with fever.

'And Mr Kyrle wrote to you as well, didn't he?' I said.

'Yes. He wrote to say he had received an envelope addressed to him in your handwriting, but which contained only a plain piece of paper without a word on it. He had written to you about it, and had received no reply. Why he expected me to explain this mystery, I had no idea. And that's what I told him.'

So helpful, I thought bitterly. But there was no point in saying anything. 'And were you surprised not to hear from me again?'

'Indeed I was, until my sister's foreign husband, that extraordinary Count Fosco, came to see me. Such a huge man!' said Mr Fairlie, his eyes closing at the memory. 'But surprisingly quiet on his feet. Anyway, he explained how ill you were, dear Marian, which was why you hadn't replied to my letter. I was extremely shocked and sorry to hear about your illness. But the Count did talk so much — I thought he would never leave!'

'And he persuaded you to write to Laura,' I said, trying to keep my voice calm and quiet.

'Yes, he urged me — in fact, practically ordered me — to invite Laura here at once. She was too nervous and upset to be of any use to you in the sick-room, he said, and the situation with Sir Percival was growing more dangerous every day. There was no trouble with the journey, because he and his wife had just rented a house in London. So Laura could travel up to London, stay the night with them, and travel on to Cumberland the next day.'

'So you wrote the letter and gave it to him,' I said.

'Where was the harm in it? In any case, I never for a moment thought that Laura would leave you alone when you were so ill. And how was I to know what shocking event was about to take place? No one could possibly say that I was to blame …'

*  *  *

I know now exactly who was to blame, but it took quite a time to put all the different pieces of information together. When I first began to be aware of my surroundings again during my recovery, I knew nothing, of course, about the letters. I knew only that I was not in my usual bedroom and there was a foreign lady looking after me. I had no idea who she was and she would not answer any of my questions. So I was very relieved a few days later when the familiar face of Mrs Michelson appeared.

'Oh, Mrs Michelson,' I said, 'I'm so glad to see you. Please tell me what's been happening.'

'You've had typhus fever, Miss Halcombe. You've been very ill. But you're getting stronger now, I'm happy to say.'

'Typhus! No wonder I feel so weak. And my sister, Lady Glyde — I do hope she didn't catch the infection?'

'No, no, she didn't.'

Mrs Michelson would not look me in the face, and I began to feel worried. Was she afraid to tell me something?

'Is my sister ill? Please, Mrs Michelson, I must know!'

'No, she's not ill. But... but she's not here. She went away yesterday to London, and is going on to Limmeridge today.'

I stared at her. Laura gone? I could not believe it. What did it mean? Had something terrible happened? I remembered the conversation I heard during the night on the verandah roof, and my heart filled with fear.

'And Sir Percival …?' I could not finish my question.

'Sir Percival left the house last night, to go abroad,' she said. 'The Count and Countess have gone to London, and the servants have all been dismissed, except for a cook and the gardener. You and I are the only people living in the house, Miss Halcombe.'

The shock of this news was so great that I felt faint. Mrs Michelson hurried to fetch me a glass of water.

'Oh, Miss Halcombe, I'm sorry,' she said. 'Try not to worry. You must rest now, and try to sleep a little.'

Later, when I felt stronger, we talked again. 'Tell me everything you can remember, from the day I fell ill,' I begged Mrs Michelson. 'I must know what happened.'

'Well, Miss Halcombe, on that first morning a servant found you, lying on your bed in a fever, holding a pen tightly in your hand. The doctor was called at once, a Mr Dawson, who said you were very ill. The Countess and I acted as your nurses — Lady Glyde wanted to help, but she was so upset at seeing you unconscious that she couldn't stop crying.

'Sir Percival and the Count were concerned about you too, though they seemed worried about something else as well. In fact, the Count spent three days down by the lake, at that old boat-house, and I remember he came in once when I was going through the hall. Sir Percival came rushing out of the library, saying, "Have you found her?" I didn't hear the answer and I have no idea who they were talking about.'

I had a very good idea who they were talking about, but it was obvious that Mrs Michelson didn't, so I said nothing.

'Your fever got worse,' Mrs Michelson went on. 'The Count said we needed a nurse to help us, so Madame Fosco took the train to London and came back with Mrs Rubelle.'

'Is that the foreign lady who was looking after me before you appeared, Mrs Michelson?' I asked.

'Yes, that's right. She didn't say very much, but she was a capable nurse. I had no complaints about her work. Mr Dawson, the doctor, was suspicious of her because she was recommended by the Count, and he didn't like the Count at all.'

'Why was that?' I asked.

'The Count had a lot of medical knowledge, you see, and he was always suggesting to Mr Dawson ways of reducing your fever. Mr Dawson called it interference and got quite angry about it. But in fact, miss, the Count recognized you had typhus fever before Mr Dawson did. He — the Count, that is — went away to London for a week, and when he came back, he took one look at you and said "Typhus". Mr Dawson sent to London for another doctor, who came and said the same thing. Then we had a very worrying ten days, when your life was in danger, but at last the doctor said you were through the worst and with good nursing care you would recover. Lady Glyde was so overcome by this happy news that she became ill herself and had to be put to bed.'

'My sister has always had delicate health,' I said.

'Yes, she's not strong. Anyway, Miss Halcombe, it was at this point that disturbing things started to happen. First, the Count and Mr Dawson argued again so fiercely that Mr Dawson left, saying he refused to offer his services any more. Next, Sir Percival told me that he was going to close the house. As soon as you and Lady Glyde were able to travel, he said, you would be going away for a change of air. He told me to dismiss all the servants, except a girl to do the cooking, and a gardener. Imagine! Just like that! I tell you, Miss Halcombe, if I hadn't felt so sorry for you and Lady Glyde, I would have resigned at once!

'The last thing was very strange indeed,' said Mrs Michelson, shaking her head. 'Sir Percival said that you and Lady Glyde would benefit from a stay at the seaside town of Torquay. He told me to go there to look for a suitable house to rent, and told me how much money I could pay. Well, I knew it wasn't enough, and I wish now that I hadn't gone, but he was my employer so I thought I had to obey his orders. I returned yesterday, after two days away, and told Sir Percival that it was impossible to find a house at such a low rent. Sir Percival showed no interest in my news at all. He just said that the Count and Countess had left Blackwater Park for their new house in London.'

Mrs Michelson looked at me anxiously. 'I think you'll find the next part of the story very upsetting,' she said. 'Poor Lady Glyde was cruelly deceived by her husband.'

'You don't surprise me,' I murmured. 'Please go on.'

'After seeing Sir Percival, I went upstairs to see you and Lady Glyde. Your sister, though still very weak, was feeling better and wanted to get up and go and visit you in your room. I helped her to dress and as we went down the passage, we met Sir Percival.

'"If you're going to see your sister, you won't find her," Sir Percival says. "She left the house yesterday with Fosco and his wife. She decided to go with them to London, on her way to Limmeridge. Mrs Rubelle went too, to look after her on the journey. You can look in her room if you don't believe me."

'I was shocked and amazed by this, and Lady Glyde's face went as white as a sheet. She almost ran down the passage and threw open the door to your room. It was empty.

'Then she cries out to Sir Percival, "Marian was much too ill to travel. Even if she did go, she would never leave without saying goodbye to me first. And why would she go to Limmeridge alone, leaving me here at Blackwater Park?"

'"Because your uncle won't receive you till he has seen your sister first," says Sir Percival. "Have you forgotten the letter he wrote to her at the beginning of her illness?"

'All through this interview, Miss Halcombe, I thought Sir Percival seemed very strange — jumpy and nervous, not at all his usual self. And now he just turned and walked away. Lady Glyde was shaking with fear, and looked at me with terror in her eyes. "Something's happened to my sister. I must follow her — I must see that she's alive and well with my own eyes. Please, Mrs Michelson, come down with me to Sir Percival. Stay with me, please!" She held my arm so tightly that I had to go with her.

'Sir Percival was in the dining room, drinking. He drank at least four glasses of wine while we were in there, Miss Halcombe. Lady Glyde was very brave, I thought. She said, "If my sister is well enough to travel, then so am I. Please allow me to follow her at once by the afternoon train."

'Sir Percival was so rude and rough with her. "You can go tomorrow," he said. "I'll write to Fosco. He can meet you at the station and you'll stay at his house overnight."

'Lady Glyde's hand began to tremble violently on my arm. "I would rather not stay at the Count's house," she said.

'Sir Percival then got very angry. "Why not?" he shouted." What's wrong with sleeping at your aunt's house? Your sister slept there last night to break her journey, and so will you. That's what your uncle, Mr Fairlie, wants you to do as well. Here — there's a letter from him. I forgot to send it up to you."

'Poor Lady Glyde was shaking so much that she gave me the letter to read to her. It was very short. I remember it, word for word: Dear Laura, please come whenever you like. Break the journey by sleeping at your aunt's house. Sorry to hear of Marian's illness. Your fond uncle, Frederick Fairlie.

'Lady Glyde didn't try to argue any more, and we went back upstairs. It seemed quite a sensible plan to me, Miss Halcombe, and I couldn't understand why Lady Glyde was so terrified of Count Fosco. She walked up and down her room, whispering, "Poor Marian — in that horrible man's power! I must find her, even if I have to follow her to Count Fosco's house."

'The next day I helped Lady Glyde get ready and went with her to the station. "If Marian has already left for Limmeridge, I won't stay at the Count's house," she told me. "I'll go and stay with Mrs Vesey, my old governess." As the train pulled away, I saw her pale, frightened face at the window. I felt so sad for her.

'Then I came back here. Imagine my surprise, Miss Halcombe, when I saw Mrs Rubelle walking in the garden! "What are you doing here?" I said. "You went to London with the Foscos and Miss Halcombe!" And then it all came out. You were still in the house. While I was out of the way in Torquay, they moved you to a room in an unused part of the house and kept you hidden. You must have been in a very deep sleep when they moved you. Perhaps they drugged you — I don't know. Then Sir Percival appeared and gave me this explanation. It was all for his wife's own good, he said. She needed a change of air, and would not have gone to Limmeridge if she had known that you were still in the house. He spoke in such a violent, angry way that I did not dare to express my opinion.

'So you see, Miss Halcombe, that was how poor Lady Glyde was deceived. It was wicked and cruel. I would have resigned my position immediately, but Sir Percival told me that Mrs Rubelle was leaving and there would be no one to look after you if I left too. So, naturally, I stayed. Sir Percival left last night, as I told you. The gardener said he seemed half mad. He called for his carriage, and drove away like an escaped criminal, saying his house was a prison and he would never return to it. I hope and pray, Miss Halcombe, that I never see that man again.'

Poor Laura — how she must have suffered! There was nothing I could do. I could not go after her as I was too weak even to stand. I hoped desperately that she had found out about the deception and would write soon to tell me that she was safe.

*  *  *

A letter came a few days later, but it was not for me, and not from Laura. It was for Mrs Michelson from Madame Fosco.

Mrs Michelson came into my room with the letter in her hand. Mr Dawson, who had agreed to be my doctor again now that the Count had gone, was behind her. I took one look at both their faces, and sat up in bed, terrified.

'What is it?' I gasped. 'You have some dreadful news for me. I can see it in your faces.'

Mrs Michelson sat down on the edge of the bed and took my hand. 'Your poor, dear sister, Lady Glyde...' she began.

The room began to darken around me, as though night was falling, and the words seemed to come from a great distance.

'... was taken seriously ill when she arrived at her aunt's house in London, and died the next day, very suddenly. She is to be buried at Limmeridge, in her mother's grave.'

*  *  *

Kind Mrs Michelson nursed me through my second illness, with Mr Dawson's help. I was not able to travel for more than three weeks, but eventually I found the strength to leave that hated house and return to Limmeridge. Mrs Michelson and I travelled together to London, where I went to see Mr Kyrle. To him I revealed the terrible suspicions in my mind about the circumstances of my sister's death. He was most concerned and promised to make enquiries for me.

I went on to Limmeridge House and a few days later Mr Kyrle wrote to me there. He had taken statements from several witnesses, he said, and was convinced that nothing suspicious had happened. He sent copies of the statements for my information. This was the one by the Count's cook, Mrs Hester Pinhorn:


I was recently employed as a cook by the Count and Countess Fosco at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. One day near the end of July, the Countess's niece, Lady Glyde, arrived at the house. She immediately fell ill. I saw her lying on the sofa, her face all white. I ran out for a doctor and came back with Mr Goodricke. He examined her and said she had a very serious heart disease. During the night she got worse. Then, at about five o'clock the next day, she lost consciousness. The doctor went in and, after putting his hand on her heart, announced that she was dead. He said that, as the Count was a foreigner, he himself would go to record the death at the district office. The Count and Countess were very badly affected by the lady's death. The lady's husband was abroad, so they arranged the funeral themselves, which took place in Cumberland.


I was still very weak from my long illness, and despair nearly overtook me at this point. I had no friend to turn to, and no idea what to do next. I went every day to the churchyard, to put flowers on the grave and to read again those sad, sad words.


In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde

Wife of Sir Percival Glyde, of Blackwater Park, Hampshire

Born 27th March 1829

Died 25th July 1850


personally adv. in person 亲自

practically adv. almost 几乎

rent v. use at a rent

typhus n. a serious infectious disease 斑疹伤寒

catch the infection be affected by the infectious disease 被传染

be through have passed 度过

fiercely adv. violently 激烈地

obey v. carry out a command 服从

jumpy adj. making sudden movements 躁动的

pull away (of a train ) leave (火车)离开;开走

drug v. to give someone a drug, esp in order to make them feel tired or go to sleep 用药麻醉

for one's good for one's interest 为了……的利益;为了……好

be convinced be certain that something is true 确信

announce v. make publicly known 宣布

overtake v. overwhelm 击垮

8.高烧

我在床上昏睡着,对周围发生了什么当然一无所知。很长时间以后,我才从别人那里得知出了什么事。

后来,我回到利默里奇,范妮告诉我那两封信的事以及她离开布莱克沃特那天晚上发生的事情。

“你从我那儿走的时候是7点钟,9点钟又来了一位客人——是伯爵夫人!没错,我非常吃惊。但她特别和善。她看出我在为离开而难过,就坚持要和我喝茶。我喝了茶,5分钟后就晕过去了——这可是我头一回晕过去!我醒的时候已经过了大约半小时。旅店的一位女士在照看我,伯爵夫人已经回去了。我检查衣服里的信,两封信都在,很安全。

“我照你说的,在伦敦把给克尔先生的信寄了出去,一到利默里奇,就把另一封信亲自交给了费尔利先生。我告诉他,我被珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了,还有在那边发生了什么以及旅店的事情,但是他好像对这些都没什么兴趣,小姐。”

对最后一点,我丝毫不觉得奇怪。劳拉的这个叔叔,除了对他自己的事还对什么有兴趣?我去找他谈的时候,他满嘴借口。

“我的神经,亲爱的玛丽安,别忘了我的神经不好!是的,我当然会告诉你信的事,可是请你不要激动,不要总那么使劲儿关门!请你保持冷静。”

“我想我写给你关于劳拉的信让你担心了吧。”我说。

“当然让我担心了,亲爱的玛丽安!我该怎么做呢?你说劳拉需要逃离她丈夫,回到利默里奇来。但是,如果珀西瓦尔爵士随后过来找她怎么办?想想那会有多少噪音、吵闹、摔门声!这就是我为什么给你写信,叫你自己先回来,跟我谈谈这件事。”

我当然没见过那封信,因为信到布莱克沃特的时候,我正发着高烧,昏睡不醒。

“克尔先生也给你写信了,是吗?”我问。

“是的,他写信给我说,他收到一个署名给他的信封,是你的笔迹,但是里面只有一张白纸,一个字也没有。他给你写过信,但没收到回音。我不明白他为什么叫解释这个迷,我就这么跟他说的。”

真是挺帮忙的,我心里恨恨地想。现在说什么也没用了。“再没接到我的来信,你不感到奇怪吗?”

“我的确感到奇怪,直到我的那个外国妹夫,福斯科伯爵过来看我,我才明白发生了什么。他可真胖!”费尔利先生闭上眼睛,陷入回忆之中,“但是他走路却很轻。他告诉我你病得非常厉害,所以没有回信。听说你生病我非常震惊,也很难过。可是,伯爵没完没了地跟我说话——我简直觉得他不想走了!”

“是他让你给劳拉写信的吧。”我尽量用平和的语气说。

“是的,他请求我——实际上是命令我——让劳拉马上回到这儿来。他说劳拉非常紧张害怕,在你的房间里也帮不了什么忙。而且珀西瓦尔爵士一天比一天危险。旅途中不会有问题,因为他和妻子刚刚在伦敦租了一栋房子,劳拉可以先到伦敦,在他们那里住一晚,第二天再赶往坎伯兰郡。”

“所以,你就写了那封信,让他拿走了?”我问。

“这有什么不好吗?不管怎样,我根本不相信劳拉会在你病重的时候丢下你不管。而且我怎么知道将要发生什么事?谁也不能把事情怪到我头上……”

*  *  *

现在我知道究竟是谁在搞鬼了,但是把各种消息都串起来颇费了一些时间。我刚从昏迷中醒来,注意到周围的时候,对信的事自然一无所知。我只知道自己不在原来的卧室,一位外国女士在旁边照顾我。我不知道她是谁,她也不回答我的任何问题。因此,几天后当米切尔森太太熟悉的脸出现在我面前时,我大大地松了一口气。

“噢,米切尔森太太,”我说,“见到你真是太高兴了。快告诉我到底发生了什么?”

“你得了斑疹伤寒,哈尔库姆小姐。你病得很厉害。不过,我很高兴你现在恢复得很好。”

“斑疹伤寒!怪不得我这么虚弱。我妹妹,格莱德夫人——我希望她没被传染吧?”

“没有,她没有被传染。”

米切尔森太太不敢正眼看我,我开始担心起来,她是不是害怕告诉我什么事情?

“我妹妹病了吗?米切尔森太太,我必须知道真相!”

“没有,她没病。不过……不过她已经不在这儿了。她昨天去了伦敦,准备今天去利默里奇。”

我盯着她。劳拉走了?我不信。这说明什么呢?出了可怕的事?我记起了在游廊顶上听到的谈话,心里充满了恐惧。

“那珀西瓦尔爵士……?”我无法把话讲完。

“珀西瓦尔爵士昨晚离开庄园,到国外去了,”她说,“伯爵夫妇去了伦敦,仆人们全都遣散了,就剩下一个厨师和一个园丁。庄园里只有你和我了,哈尔库姆小姐。”

这个消息对我的震动太大,我感到一阵眩晕,米切尔森太太赶忙去为我拿了杯水来。

“哦,哈尔库姆小姐,真抱歉,”米切尔森太太说,“你别担心,一定要好好休息,试着睡一会儿吧。”

后来,我身上有些力气了,我们又聊起来。“告诉我,自从我生病那天起都发生了什么?”我恳求米切尔森太太,“我一定要知道出了什么事。”

“好吧,哈尔库姆小姐。头一天早上,一个仆人发现你躺在床上,发着高烧,手里还紧紧握着钢笔。我们很快叫来了一位医生,道森先生。他说你病得很厉害。伯爵夫人和我一起照顾你——格莱德夫人也想帮忙,但是看到你昏迷的样子,她很难过,不住地哭。

“珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵也都为你担心,不过他们两人好像还在为别的事担心。实际上,伯爵在湖边呆了三天,就在那个老船屋里。我记得他有一次回来,我正路过大厅。这时,珀西瓦尔爵士从书房冲出来问他:‘找到她了吗?’我没听到回答,也不知道他们说的是谁。”

我非常清楚他们说的是谁,明显米切尔森太太不知道,所以我没有说话。

“你烧得越来越厉害,”米切尔森太太接着说,“伯爵说我们需要找一个护士帮忙,于是福斯科夫人坐火车去了伦敦,带回了鲁贝尔太太。”

“就是那位在你来之前照顾我的外国女士吗,米切尔森太太?”

“对,就是她。她很少说话,但很能干。我对她干活儿挑不出任何毛病。道森先生,那位医生,对她有怀疑,因为她是伯爵推荐的,而道森先生一点儿也不喜欢伯爵。”

“为什么呢?”我问。

“你知道伯爵懂得许多医学知识,他不断地向道森先生提出给你退烧的办法。道森先生非常生气,说这是干涉他的工作。但实际上,小姐,伯爵比道森先生更早地看出你得了斑疹伤寒。他——我是说伯爵——到伦敦去了一星期,回来后看了你一眼就说是‘斑疹伤寒’。道森先生从伦敦又请来一位医生,也说是斑疹伤寒。接下来的十天我们大家都非常担心,你当时有生命危险。不过最后,医生说你已经度过了危险期,只要得到精心照顾,就会好起来。听到这个好消息,格莱德夫人过于高兴,结果她自己病倒了,不得不卧床休息。”

“我妹妹的身体一直很弱。”我说。

“是的,她的身体不太好。不过,哈尔库姆小姐,就在这个时候,令人心烦的事接二连三地发生了。先是伯爵和道森先生大吵了一架,道森先生走了,他说不愿意再干了。然后,珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我他准备关闭庄园。他说等你和格莱德夫人能出门旅行了,就应该离开这里,换换环境。他让我辞退了所有的仆人,只留下一个女仆做饭,还有一个园丁。真是难以想象!就是这样!我跟你说,哈尔库姆小姐,要不是担心你和格莱德夫人,我当时马上就不干了!

“最后一件事非常奇怪,”米切尔森太太摇摇头接着说,“珀西瓦尔爵士说,你和格莱德夫人到海滨小城托基呆一段时间会对你们有好处。他叫我去那里找一栋合适的房子租下来,还告诉我只能花多少钱。唉,我知道钱不够。我现在真希望没去那个地方,但他是东家,我想我不能不听他的吩咐。我走了两天,昨天回来的。我告诉珀西瓦尔爵士用那么少的钱根本不可能租到房子。他对我的回复一点儿也不感兴趣,只是说伯爵夫妇已经离开布莱克沃特,去伦敦的新居了。”

米切尔森太太不安地看着我。“我想下面的事情一定会让你难过,”她说,“可怜的格莱德夫人让她丈夫骗惨了。”

“我不会感到惊讶的,”我轻声说,“请接着讲。”

“见过了珀西瓦尔爵士,我上楼去看你和格莱德夫人。你妹妹虽说还很虚弱,但已经好多了。她要起来到你的房间看你。我帮她穿好衣服。在走廊里我们碰到了珀西瓦尔爵士。

“‘如果你是去看你的姐姐,你不会找到她了,’珀西瓦尔爵士说,‘她昨天同福斯科夫妇离开了这里。她决定跟他们顺路到伦敦,然后去利默里奇。鲁贝尔太太也走了,她要在路上照看你姐姐。你要是不信我的话,可以到她的房间看看。’

“听到这些,我大吃一惊。格莱德夫人的脸变得煞白。她几乎在走廊里跑起来,一把推开你的房门,里面空无一人。

“然后她冲着珀西瓦尔爵士叫起来:‘玛丽安病得那么厉害,根本不能旅行。即使要去的话,她也不会不跟我道别就走。为什么她要一个人去利默里奇,把我留在布莱克沃特?’

“‘因为你叔叔要先跟你姐姐见面,再见你,’珀西瓦尔爵士说,‘难道你忘了在你姐姐刚病的时候,他写来的信了吗?’

“整个谈话中,哈尔库姆小姐,我觉得珀西瓦尔爵士显得很怪——又烦躁,又紧张,跟平时的他一点儿也不一样。说完,他就转身走开了。格莱德夫人害怕得直哆嗦,她看着我,眼睛里充满了恐惧。‘我姐姐出事了。我必须去找她,我必须亲眼看到她平安无事。米切尔森太太,请和我一起去找珀西瓦尔爵士。请陪我去!’她紧紧地抓着我的胳膊,我只好跟她一起下楼。

“珀西瓦尔爵士在餐厅喝酒,我们在的那一会儿,他就至少喝了四杯,哈尔库姆小姐。我觉得格莱德夫人很勇敢。她说:‘如果姐姐可以旅行,那我也可以。请允许我乘下午的火车去追她。’

“珀西瓦尔爵士对她非常无理、粗暴。‘你可以明天去,’他说,‘我会给福斯科写信。他会到车站接你,你晚上就住他那里。’

“格莱德夫人扶着我胳膊的手开始抖得很厉害。‘我不想住在伯爵家。’她说。

“珀西瓦尔爵士发怒了。‘为什么?’他大声嚷道,‘在你姑妈家过夜有什么不好?你姐姐昨天途中就是在那里过夜的,你也一样。这也是你叔叔费尔利先生的要求。给——这是他的信,我忘了给你了。’

“可怜的格莱德夫人哆嗦得很厉害,她把信交给我,让我念给她听。信很短,我还一字不差地记着:亲爱的劳拉,请在方便的时候回来。途中在姑妈家过夜。听说玛丽安病了,我非常难过。爱你的叔叔,弗雷德里克·费尔利。

“格莱德夫人没有再继续争下去,我们两人回到楼上。我觉得这样做很明智,哈尔库姆小姐,我不明白格莱德夫人为什么那么害怕福斯科伯爵。她在房间里走来走去,轻声自言自语:‘可怜的玛丽安——落到那个可怕的人手里!我一定要找到她,哪怕是到福斯科伯爵家里也要找到她。’

“第二天,我帮格莱德夫人准备好一切,陪她来到车站。‘如果玛丽安已经回利默里奇了,我就不住在伯爵家,’她告诉我,‘我会去找维西夫人,我原来的家庭教师。”火车开的时候,透过车窗我看到她苍白、恐慌的脸。我很为她难过。

“然后我回到这儿,竟然看到鲁贝尔太太在花园散步,哈尔库姆小姐,你知道我有多么惊讶!‘怎么在这儿?’我问,‘你不是和福斯科伯爵一家还有哈尔库姆小姐去伦敦了嘛!’后来事情慢慢都清楚了。你还在庄园。趁我去托基的时候,他们把你搬到了庄园里一个没人住的房间藏起来了。他们搬动你的时候,你肯定在昏睡。也许他们给你吃了药——我不清楚。这时,珀西瓦尔爵士过来给了我如下的解释。他说这一切都是为了他妻子好,她需要换个环境,假如她知道你还在庄园,是不会去利默里奇的。他说话时怒气冲冲的,我没敢说什么。

“你看,哈尔库姆小姐,这就是可怜的格莱德夫人受骗的经过。多么恶毒、多么不近人情。我本来要马上辞职的,但是珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我,鲁贝尔太太要走了,要是我也走的话,就没人照顾你了。这不,我就又留了下来。珀西瓦尔爵士是昨晚离开的,我刚才告诉过你。听园丁说,他跟疯了似的。他吩咐准备马车,然后仿佛落荒而逃的囚犯般驾车走了,嘴里还说什么这个家像个监狱,他再也不想回来了。我真的希望,哈尔库姆小姐,我再也不会见到那个人了。”

可怜的劳拉——她肯定受了很多罪!我现在一点儿办法也没有,也无法去追她,我现在虚弱得站都站不起来。我真的希望劳拉能够发现这个骗局,尽快地给我写信,告诉我她平安无事。

*  *  *

几天后来了一封信,但不是给我的,也不是劳拉写来的,而是福斯科夫人写给米切尔森太太的。

米切尔森太太拿着那封信走进我的房间,后面跟着道森先生,他同意继续为我看病,因为伯爵已经走了。我看到他们两人的神色,从床上坐起来,心里很害怕。

“出了什么事?”我急切地问,“你们有可怕的消息要告诉我。我从你们的脸上能看出来。”

米切尔森太太在我的床边坐下,握住我的手。“你那可怜的、亲爱的妹妹,格莱德夫人……”她说。

我的周围变得一团漆黑,就像夜色降临一样,下面的话似乎是从很遥远的地方传来的。

“……她到伦敦的姑妈家以后就病倒了,第二天就死了,死得非常突然。她将被安葬在利默里奇,她母亲的墓地。”

*  *  *

我又病倒了,好心的米切尔森太太在道森先生的帮助下精心地照顾我。三个多星期的时间里,我都无法出门旅行。但我终于恢复了体力,离开了那个令人憎恨的庄园,回到利默里奇。米切尔森太太和我一同来到伦敦,我去见了克尔先生,向他讲述了我心中对妹妹死因的怀疑。他对这件事很关心,答应为我调查。

我到利默里奇几天后,克尔先生的信也寄到了那里。他从几个证人那里获得了证词,他相信没有任何可疑的事发生。他把证词的副本寄给了我。下面是福斯科的厨师赫斯特·平霍恩太太的笔录:


我是最近受雇于福斯科伯爵夫妇的,他们住在圣约翰伍德,弗雷斯特街5号。快7月底的一天,伯爵夫人的侄女,格莱德夫人来到伯爵家。她很快就病了。我看见她躺在沙发上,脸色苍白。我跑去叫医生,找来了古德里克先生。他给她做了检查,说她得了严重的心脏病。当天夜里,她病情加重。大约第二天早上5点,她失去了知觉。医生进来,用手摸了摸她的胸口,说她已经死了。医生说,因为伯爵是外国人,所以他得亲自到地区办公室报告人口死亡。福斯科伯爵夫妇对格莱德夫人的死非常伤心。格莱德夫人的丈夫在国外,因此他们安排了葬礼的有关事宜,葬礼安排在坎伯兰郡举行。


由于长时间生病,我现在还非常虚弱,此时绝望几乎将我击垮。我找不到什么朋友可以倾诉,茫然不知下面该如何是好。每天我都去教堂墓地,去给劳拉的墓献花,一遍又一遍地读着那些令我心碎的文字。


爱妻劳拉·格莱德之墓

生于1829年3月27日

卒于1850年7月25日

汉普郡布莱克沃特庄园

珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士立

深夜密谈

PART TWO
THE STORY TOLD BY MARIAN HALCOMBE
第二部分 玛丽安·哈尔库姆的讲述

4
Arrangements for a marriage

It was a sad day when Walter Hartright left us. Laura stayed in her room all day, and I felt sad and depressed. Poor Mr Gilmore must have had a dull time, and the next morning, when Laura reappeared looking pale and ill, I thought he seemed rather anxious about her. I was anxious too. Laura is such a sensitive and loving person that it was no surprise to me to find that she had grown fond of Walter. Indeed, I have grown fond of him myself. But I honestly believe that time will cure Laura of these feelings.

Two days after Walter left, Sir Percival Glyde arrived. He is forty-five years old but seems younger. He is handsome, and only a little bald, has perfect manners, and is pleasant, agreeable, and respectful. I really must try to like him.

In the afternoon, while Laura was out of the room, Sir Percival referred to Anne Catherick's letter.

'I read Mr Gilmore's letter to my lawyer,' he said, 'and I want to give you a full explanation. Mrs Catherick, you see, worked for me and my family for many years. Her marriage was unfortunate, in that her husband deserted her, and her only child, a girl, became mentally ill and needed to be put in an asylum. So, in recognition of Mrs Catherick's services, I agreed to pay the expenses of a private asylum for the girl. Unfortunately, the girl discovered this and consequently developed a hatred for me. She recently escaped from the asylum and I'm sure she wrote this letter because of her hatred for me. It's all very sad.'

Mr Gilmore found this explanation perfectly satisfactory, and said so. He then looked at me for agreement, but I was struggling with a sense of unease that I could not explain, and hesitated before answering. Sir Percival noticed this at once.

'May I beg you, Miss Halcombe,' he said politely, 'to write to Mrs Catherick to ask if these facts are true?'

I did not want to agree to this, but how could I refuse, without making the situation even more embarrassing than it already was? So I went to the desk, wrote a note, and gave it to him. Without looking at it, he put it in an envelope and wrote the address.

'Now that is done,' he said, 'may I ask if Anne Catherick spoke to Miss Fairlie, or to you?'

'No. She spoke to nobody except Mr Hartright,' I replied.

'Ah, yes, the drawing teacher,' he said thoughtfully. 'And did you discover where Anne Catherick was staying?'

I described the farm to him.

'It is my duty to try to find her,' he continued. 'Tomorrow I will go to this farm and make enquiries.' Soon afterwards he left to go up to his room.

*  *  *

That evening and the next day Sir Percival took every opportunity to bring Laura into the conversation, but she hardly took any notice. He went to the farm to make his enquiries about Anne Catherick, but learnt nothing. Then on Wednesday a letter came from Mrs Catherick — a short, business-like letter, thanking me for my note and saying that everything Sir Percival had told me was completely correct.

Why did I still have doubts? This, surely, was enough proof for anyone, but how I wished that Walter Hartright had been there to give his opinion! At Sir Percival's request I now had to give Laura his explanation of Anne Catherick's letter. She listened quietly and showed no emotion, but I noticed that on the table near her hand was the little book of Hartright's drawings. I also had to tell her that the reason for Sir Percival's visit was to fix the day of their marriage.

'I'm afraid he will ask you to decide quite soon, Laura.'

'Oh no, Marian! I can't do that!' she said. 'Please ask him, beg him, to allow me more time. I promise to give him a final answer before the end of the year, but not yet, please, not yet.'

Sir Percival agreed to this request, and when Mr Gilmore heard about it, he arranged to have a private talk with Laura.

'I have to return to London tomorrow,' he said to me, 'and I need to discuss the financial side of this marriage with Miss Fairlie before I go. As you know, she will inherit a great deal of money and property when she becomes twenty-one next March, and I must include all this in the marriage agreement in a way that reflects Miss Fairlie's own wishes, and is also acceptable to Sir Percival.'

He had the meeting with Laura the next morning, and in the afternoon he left for London, looking rather sad and thoughtful. Wondering what had been said, I hurried up to Laura's room.

'Oh, Marian, come in,' she said. 'I need to talk to you.'

'What is it, Laura? Is it about the marriage agreement?'

'No. I couldn't even bear to discuss that with Mr Gilmore. I'm ashamed to say that all I could do was cry. He was very kind and good, Marian, and he said that he would look after everything for me. No, what I wanted to tell you was this. I cannot bear the situation any longer. I must end it.'

Her eyes were bright and she spoke with great energy. I began to feel alarmed. 'What do you wish to do, Laura darling? Do you want to be released from your promise to marry Sir Percival?'

'No,' she said simply. 'I cannot break my promise to my father. But I want to tell the truth, and I will confess to Sir Percival that I love someone else.'

'Laura! He has no right to know that!' I said in amazement.

'I cannot deceive him,' she said. 'I have thought it over carefully. After I have told him, let him do as he wishes.'

I looked into her innocent, loving eyes and could say nothing. I just put my arms around her, trying not to cry myself.

'May I speak to him tomorrow, in your presence, Marian?'

I held her tight and agreed — though I was not sure I was doing the right thing. Indeed, I was not sure of anything. I could not understand how I had failed to see how deeply she loved Walter Hartright. For the first time in my life I had made a mistake about her. Now I realized that she would love him all her life.

*  *  *

The first thing that happened the next morning did nothing to make me feel more cheerful. A letter arrived for me from poor Walter Hartright. He had decided to leave England and asked me if I could help him find employment abroad. I was then alarmed to read that since his return to London he had neither seen nor heard anything of Anne Catherick, but suspected he had been watched and followed by strange men. I was worried about his state of mind, so I immediately wrote to some friends in London to ask if they could help him find a suitable job in another country. Laura, of course, knew nothing about these letters.

Sir Percival did not join us for breakfast, but sent a message, saying he would meet us at eleven o'clock, as arranged. Laura seemed calm and unusually self-controlled. I had never seen her like this. It was almost as if love had created a new force in her character.

At exactly eleven Sir Percival knocked and entered, with anxiety and worry in every line of his face. This meeting would decide his future life, and he obviously knew it.

'You may wonder, Sir Percival,' said Laura calmly, 'if I am going to ask to be released from my promise to marry you. I am not going to ask this. I respect my father's wishes too much.'

His face relaxed a little, but I saw one of his feet nervously beating the carpet.

'No, if we are going to withdraw from our planned marriage, it will be because of your wish, Sir Percival, not mine.'

'Mine?' he said in great surprise. 'What reason could I have for withdrawing?'

'A reason that is very hard to tell you,' she answered. 'There is a change in me.'

His face went so pale that even his lips lost their colour. He turned his head to one side.

'What change?' he asked, trying to hide his nervousness.

'When the promise was made two years ago,' she said, 'my love did not belong to anyone. Will you forgive me, Sir Percival, if I tell you that it now belongs to another person?'

Her tears started to fall, and Sir Percival hid his face behind his hand, so that it was impossible to know what he was thinking. He made no answer, and my temper got the better of me.

'Sir Percival!' I said sharply. 'Have you nothing to say? You have already heard more than you have a right to hear.'

'But I didn't ask for that right,' he said, avoiding my question.

'I wish you to understand,' Laura continued, 'that I will never see this person again, and that if you leave me, you only allow me to remain a single woman for the rest of my life. All I ask is that you forgive me and keep my secret.'

'I will do both those things,' he said. Then he looked at Laura, as if he was waiting to hear more.

'I think I have said enough to give you reason to withdraw from our marriage,' she added quietly.

'No. You have said enough to make it the dearest wish of my life to marry you,' he said, getting up and advancing towards her.

Laura gave a cry of surprise, but I had more than half expected this. Every word she had spoken had shown her honesty and her innocence, but these fine qualities had destroyed her own hopes of a release. Sir Percival understood very well the priceless value of a pure and true woman. Why would he give her up now?

'I will do everything I can to earn your love,' he said, 'and perhaps in time I will win it.'

'Never!' she answered, looking more beautiful than ever. 'I will be your true and loyal wife, but never your loving wife.'

'That is enough for me. I accept your loyalty and your truth,' he said, then raised her hand to his lips and silently left the room.

Laura sat without moving. I put my arm around her. At last she said,' I must resign myself, Marian. If you write to Walter, don't tell him how unhappy I am. And if I die first, please say to him, say what I could never say myself — say I loved him!'

Then she threw herself on the sofa and cried as if her heart was breaking, until at last she fell asleep.

*  *  *

In the days that followed it seemed that nothing could prevent this miserable marriage from taking place. I tried to make Laura change her mind, but she was determined to keep her promise, and to do her duty. Mr Fairlie was, of course, very happy that the 'family worry' was now at an end and suggested that the sooner his niece got married the better. This made me very angry, but when I told Laura, I was surprised by her calm reply.

'My uncle is right. I have caused trouble and anxiety to everyone. Let Sir Percival decide on the day for our marriage.'

Sir Percival was delighted by this news, and he then left to prepare for the bride's reception at his house in Hampshire.

I thought that a change would do Laura good, so I arranged for us both to go and stay with some friends in Yorkshire. She passively agreed with my idea. I also wrote to Mr Gilmore, telling him this marriage would now take place.

The next day I received a letter from Walter Hartright, saying that my friends had got him a job on an expedition to Central America. He was going to be the artist for the expedition. He was leaving on 21st November and would be away for six months. I could only hope that this was for the best.

Laura and I then departed for Yorkshire but after only nine days there we received a letter from Mr Fairlie, calling us back to Limmeridge immediately. What could this mean, I wondered?

I found out as soon as we arrived. Mr Fairlie and Sir Percival had agreed on 22nd December for the wedding, provided that Laura also agreed. Would I please persuade her, said Mr Fairlie. His nerves were much too bad to talk to her himself.

I also found our old friend Mr Gilmore, who had come to talk to Mr Fairlie about the marriage agreement. He was leaving that day, and was anxious to speak to me alone before he left.

'I am not at all happy about the financial arrangements in the agreement, Miss Halcombe,' he said, 'but there is nothing I can do about it. I know how fond you are of your sister and I think you ought to know why I am concerned.

'As you will know,' he went on, 'there are three parts to Miss Fairlie's inheritance. Firstly, on Mr Fairlie's death, she will inherit the Limmeridge property and land, and the income from it. If she dies childless, this property will go to a cousin, but the income from it will go to her husband during his lifetime. If she has a son, everything — property and income — will go to the son. No problems there.

'Secondly, when Miss Fairlie reaches the age of twenty-one next March, she will receive the income from £10,000. This £10,000 will go to her aunt Eleanor, if Miss Fairlie dies before her aunt — which is not very likely. The reason Miss Fairlie's father did not leave the £10,000 to his sister Eleanor on his death was that he disapproved strongly of her marriage to a foreigner, even though the man was an Italian nobleman, Count Fosco.'

'Yes, Laura has told me about that,' I said.

'Well,' Mr Gilmore went on, 'there are no problems there either. But the third part of Miss Fairlie's inheritance is more difficult. Next March she will also inherit £20,000, which will be her own money completely. If she dies before her husband, the income from the £20,000 will go to Sir Percival for his lifetime, and the capital will go to their children. If there are no children to inherit the capital, Miss Fairlie can choose relations and friends to inherit the money when she dies. That's what I proposed, but Sir Percival's lawyer did not accept it. He insists that if Sir Percival survives his wife and there are no children, Sir Percival should receive the capital. In that case, nothing will go to any other member of the family, including you, Miss Halcombe.'

Mr Gilmore sighed deeply. 'I protested strongly. I tried every argument I could, but nothing would change the lawyer's mind. I've discovered, you see, that Sir Percival is always in debt and always in need of cash. My last effort has been to come here, to try and persuade Mr Fairlie to oppose this demand from Sir Percival's lawyer. I am sorry to say I have not succeeded. Mr Fairlie wishes to avoid all responsibility for his niece's marriage arrangements. He says that his niece will not die before Sir Percival anyway, so what is there to worry about?'

Mr Gilmore stood up to go and picked up his hat. 'I shall complete the agreement and send it in. I have no choice. If I don't do it, Mr Fairlie will find another lawyer who will. But I tell you, Miss Halcombe, no daughter of mine should be married to any man alive under such an agreement as I am forced to make for Miss Fairlie.'

With that, he shook my hand, and without another word he went away to catch his train back to London.

After he had gone, I tried to be sensible. Mr Fairlie was Laura's guardian and if he chose to accept this agreement, there was nothing I could do about it. It was just one more worry about this dreadful marriage. A more immediate worry was the date of the wedding. When I told Laura, she turned pale and trembled.

'Not so soon!' she cried. 'Oh, Marian, not so soon!'

'Well, let me speak to Mr Fairlie, then,' I said, ready to fight for her. 'I will try to change it.'

'No,' she said faintly. 'Too late, Marian, too late! It will only make more trouble. Please tell my uncle I agree.'

I think I would have cried if I had not been so angry. I rushed into Mr Fairlie's room and shouted loudly, 'Laura agrees to the twenty-second' — and rushed out again, banging the door noisily. I hoped I had destroyed his nerves for the whole day.

*  *  *

After this the wedding preparations began. The dressmakers came and went all the time; there was packing, and planning, and all kinds of arrangements to make. We heard every day from Sir Percival. After the wedding he proposed to take Laura to Italy for six months. They would meet a number of Sir Percival's friends there, including his best and oldest friend, Count Fosco, whose wife, of course, was Laura's Aunt Eleanor. At least this marriage would bring Laura and her aunt together again, I thought. The Count himself sounded a most interesting person, and I rather hoped that I would meet him one day.

All too quickly the days passed. Sir Percival arrived, looking a little tired and anxious but talking and laughing like the happiest of men. The evening after he arrived he went off to the village to ask if anyone had any news of Anne Catherick. No one had heard anything, but I had to admit that it was good of him to continue to try to help her. I have decided to try and think better of him. After all, what reason do I have to distrust him? I am sure that I could like him if I really tried.

It is getting quite easy to like him. Today I spoke to him about the dearest wish of both Laura and myself — that I should be able to live with Laura after her marriage, just as I had always lived with her before. He agreed instantly and seemed delighted with the plan. I would be the ideal, the perfect companion for his wife, he said. Yes, I am beginning to like Sir Percival very much.

*  *  *

I hate Sir Percival! He has no sensitivity, no kindness, no good feeling. Last night he whispered something in Laura's ear — she has refused to tell me what it was — and her face turned white with misery. He took no notice at all, and all my suspicions of him have returned. Is he now showing his true character? He seems more restless and nervous than before, and is often sharp and bad-tempered. I have this strange idea that something might happen to prevent the marriage — and that he is afraid of that. A foolish thought. I must forget it.

As the day of our separation grows nearer, Laura cannot bear to have me out of her sight. I must be brave and cheerful, for her sake, but my fear will not go away. Will this marriage be the one terrible mistake of her life, and the one hopeless sorrow of mine?

*  *  *

It is the twenty-second. No more time for tears. Laura is dressed, and we leave for the church. By eleven o'clock they are married. By three o'clock they are gone. I am blind with crying and can write no more...


cure v. restore to health 治愈

respectful adj. showing deference 有礼貌的

desert v. abandon 抛弃

private adj. independent; not connected with government, public service, etc. 私立的

hesitate v. show or feel uncertainty or indecision 犹豫

embarrassing adj. causing to feel awkward or self-conscious or ashamed 令人难堪的;使人尴尬的

thoughtfully adv. engaged in or given to meditation 沉思地;若有所思地

business-like adj. serious, formal 正式的

emotion n. a strong mental or instinctive feeling 情感

inherit v. receive by legal descent or succession 继承

presence n. the state or condition of being present 在场

release v. set free; liberate 解除

withdraw v. discontinue, cancel 撤出;退出

advance v. move forward 向前走

destroy v. spoil utterly 破坏

in time eventually 最终

loyal adj. true, faithful 忠贞的

resign v. give up 退让

passively adv. offering no objection 被动地;不反对

expedition n. a journey for a particular purpose 为特别目的的旅行

provided conj. on the condition that 只要

likely adj. probable 可能的

disapprove v. have or express an unfavourable opinion 反对

capital n. money used to produce more wealth 资金

protest v. make a protest against an action or proposal 抗议;反对

dreadful adj. terrible, inspiring fear or awe 可怕的

bang v. shut noisily 用力关上

distrust v. have no trust or confidence in, doubt 不相信;怀疑

instantly adv. occurring immediately 立即;即刻

ideal adj. perfect, excellent 最好的

4.准备婚事

沃尔特·哈特里特先生离开的那天,我们都很难过。劳拉一整天呆在自己的房间里不出来,我的心情也很沉闷。可怜的吉尔摩先生肯定觉得那天很无聊。第二天早晨,劳拉从房间出来的时候,面容憔悴,像是病了一场。我觉得吉尔摩先生似乎很为她担心,我也为她担心。劳拉是个敏感而深情的人,她喜欢上沃尔特我一点儿也不觉得奇怪。其实,我自己也喜欢他。但是,我真心希望时间能够治愈劳拉的情伤。

沃尔特离开两天以后,珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士来了。他45岁,但看上去比实际年龄要年轻一些。他很英俊,稍有些秃顶,举止优雅,温和有礼。我尽力让自己对这个人产生好感。

下午,劳拉不在房里的时候,珀西瓦尔爵士提到了安妮·凯瑟里克的那封信。

“我看了吉尔摩先生给我律师的信,”他说,“我想跟你们好好地解释一下。凯瑟里克太太为我和我的家庭工作了许多年,她的婚姻很不幸,她丈夫抛弃了她,她的独生女精神有毛病,需要送进精神病院。所以,为了感谢凯瑟里克太太多年来的服务,我答应承担送她女儿去一家私立精神病院的所有费用。但不幸的是,女孩知道以后,就开始对我怀恨在心。她不久前从精神病院逃走了,我敢肯定是她出于对我的仇恨写了这封信。这太让人伤心了。”

吉尔摩先生认为这个解释非常令人满意,他说完看了看我,希望我也同意他的说法。可是,我有一种说不清的不安的感觉,犹豫了一会儿,没有说话。珀西瓦尔爵士立刻注意到了我的反应。

“哈尔库姆小姐,能否请你给凯瑟里克太太写封信,问问她这些是不是真的呢?”他非常客气地说。

我不想答应他的要求,但是又怎么好拒绝呢?拒绝只能把事情弄得越来越尴尬。于是,我走到桌旁,写了封短信,然后交给了珀西瓦尔。他看也没看就把信装进信封,写上了地址。

“好了,这件事就这样了,”他说,“请问安妮·凯瑟里克跟费尔利小姐或者你谈过吗?”

“没有。她只跟哈特里特先生谈过。”我告诉他。

“噢,是了,那位绘画教师,”他若有所思地说,“你们找到安妮·凯瑟里克的住处了吗?”

我跟他讲了农场的情况。

“找到她是我的责任,”他接着说,“明天我就去农场问问。”不一会儿,他就上楼回他的房间去了。

*  *  *

那天晚上以及第二天,珀西瓦尔爵士努力寻找一切机会同劳拉讲话,但劳拉一直心不在焉。珀西瓦尔去农场调查,结果一无所获。星期三凯瑟里克太太来信了,那是一封简短而又正式的信。信中感谢我给她写信,并且说珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我的都是事实。

为什么我还是有疑问呢?这封信对谁来讲都是充分的证据,可我还是很希望沃尔特·哈特里特先生能在这儿发表一下他的看法。应珀西瓦尔爵士的要求,我得向劳拉解释一下安妮·凯瑟里克来信的事情。她静静地听着,脸上毫无表情。我注意到她手边的桌上放着哈特里特先生的画册。我还得告诉她,珀西瓦尔爵士此行的目的是要确定他们结婚的日期。

“恐怕他会让你马上做决定,劳拉。”

“噢,不行,玛丽安!我不能!”她说,“请帮我问问他,恳求他再给我些时间。我保证年底以前给他最终的答复,但是现在不行,现在不行。”

珀西瓦尔爵士答应了这个要求。吉尔摩先生得知事情的经过后,准备同劳拉单独谈谈。

“我明天必须回伦敦去,”吉尔摩先生对我说,“走之前,我需要和费尔利小姐谈一下这桩婚事的财务问题。你知道,明年3月她21岁的时候,她会继承一大笔财产,我必须把这些都写进结婚协议中去,让协议既能反映费尔利小姐的愿望,也能令珀西瓦尔爵士接受。”

转天上午,吉尔摩先生和劳拉谈了话。下午,他动身去伦敦时,看上去忧心忡忡。不知道他们都说了些什么,我连忙赶去劳拉的房间。

“噢,玛丽安,快进来,我有话跟你说。”劳拉说。

“出了什么事,劳拉?是结婚协议的事吗?”

“不是。我简直没办法跟吉尔摩先生谈这件事。我真不好意思说出口,刚才我只是一个劲儿地哭,什么也没说。吉尔摩先生非常善良,玛丽安,他告诉我,他会帮我打理一切。我现在要告诉你的是,我再也受不了这种局面了,我必须结束这种状况。”

她的眼睛很亮,语气也很坚决。我感到有些害怕,“你想要做什么,亲爱的劳拉?你要解除同珀西瓦尔爵士的婚约吗?”

“不是的,”她回答,“我不能打破对父亲的承诺。但是,我要说出真话,我要告诉珀西瓦尔爵士我爱上了别人。”

“劳拉!他无权知道这件事!”我惊讶地说。

“我不能欺骗他,”她说,“我已经想好了。我把真相告诉他,让他决定该怎么办。”

我看着她纯洁、深情的眼神,一句话也说不出来。我伸手抱住她,尽量控制自己不哭出来。

“明天我就跟他说,你跟我去,好吗,玛丽安?”

我紧紧地抱着她,答应了她的请求——我也不清楚自己做的是对是错。我对什么都没了把握。我不明白为什么我没发觉她爱沃尔特·哈特里特爱得那么深。我第一次对她做出了错误的判断。现在我知道,她会一辈子爱着他。

*  *  *

第二天早晨发生的事让我一点儿也高兴不起来,可怜的沃尔特·哈特里特来信说他决定离开英国,问我能否帮他在国外找份工作。信后面的内容使我非常担心。他回伦敦以后,既没有见到安妮·凯瑟里克,也没有打听到她的任何消息,反而觉得有陌生人在盯他的梢。我担心他情绪不稳,赶忙给几个在伦敦的朋友写信,看他们能不能帮他在国外找到一份合适的工作。当然,劳拉对信的事一无所知。

珀西瓦尔爵士没有来同我们一起吃早餐,他捎话给我们说他会按约定11点来见我们。劳拉超乎寻常的冷静、镇定。我从未见她这样过,好像爱情使她更坚强了。

11点整,珀西瓦尔爵士敲门进来。他满脸紧张和不安。这次谈话将会决定他今后的生活,他显然非常清楚这一点。

“你可能会认为我是来请求与你解除婚约的,珀西瓦尔爵士,”劳拉冷静地说,“我不是来做这样的请求的,我非常尊重父亲的意愿。”

珀西瓦尔爵士的表情放松了一些,但我看到他的一只脚在紧张地敲打着地毯。

“我不会那样做的,如果我们两人要解除婚约的话,那一定是出于你的意愿,珀西瓦尔爵士,而不会是我的。”

“我的意愿?”他吃惊地说,“我能有什么理由解除婚约呢?”

“一个很难向你启齿的理由,我这里有了些变故。”劳拉回答。

珀西瓦尔的脸色变得煞白,双唇一点儿血色都没有。他把脸转向一侧。

“什么变故?”他尽量掩饰着自己的紧张。

“两年前约定婚事的时候,我的爱不属于任何人,”劳拉接着说,“如果我告诉你,珀西瓦尔爵士,我的爱现在属于另一个人,你会原谅我吗?”

她的眼泪流了下来。珀西瓦尔爵士用手捂住了脸,让人看不出他是怎么想的。他一句话也不说,我的直脾气可受不了了。

“珀西瓦尔爵士!”我大声问道,“你不想说点儿什么吗?你已经听到了本来你无权听到的事情。”

“可我并没有要求这权利。”他回避了我的问题。

“我想告诉你,”劳拉继续说,“我再也见不到那个人了。如果你和我分手,我会终身不嫁。我只请求你原谅我,并为我保守秘密。”

“两件事我都答应。”珀西瓦尔说完,看了看劳拉,似乎等着她再说些什么。

“我想我已经讲了足够的理由让你解除婚约。”劳拉平静地说。

“不,你说了这么多,我唯一的感觉是我一生最大的愿望就是同你结婚。”说着,他起身朝劳拉走过来。

劳拉惊讶得“咦”了一声,我倒是猜到了几分他会这么说。劳拉讲的每一句话都透出她的真诚和纯洁,但是这样良好的品德却毁掉了她解脱的希望。珀西瓦尔爵士很清楚,一个纯洁、真诚的女人是无价之宝。他为什么要放弃呢?

“我会尽一切所能去赢得你的爱,也许最终我会成功的。”珀西瓦尔说。

“永远也不会的!”劳拉看上去更美了,“我会是你忠实的妻子,但永远不会爱你。”

“这就足够了。我愿意接受你的忠贞和真诚。”说罢,他拿起劳拉的手吻了吻,然后默默地走出房间。

劳拉坐在那里一动不动,我伸出手搂住她。最后她开口道:“我必须退让,玛丽安。你给沃尔特写信时,不要告诉他我不开心。假如我比他先死了,你一定对他说,说我不能亲口对他说的话——我爱他!”

说完,她扑在沙发上放声痛哭,哭得好像心都碎了一样,最后她趴在那儿睡着了。

*  *  *

接下来的日子里,好像什么也阻止不了这桩不幸的婚姻。我力图让劳拉改变主意,但她却坚持要恪守诺言,履行义务。费尔利先生自然非常高兴,因为这场“家庭烦恼”终于画上了句号。他建议他的侄女越早结婚越好。这令我很气愤,但我把这话告诉劳拉后,她的平静反应倒让我吃了一惊。

“叔叔说的对,我给大家带来了太多麻烦。让珀西瓦尔爵士决定我们的结婚日期吧。”

珀西瓦尔爵士对此非常高兴,他离开庄园回汉普郡,准备迎接新娘。

我想换一个环境肯定对劳拉有好处,于是安排我们两人到约克郡的朋友那里呆一段时间。她同意了。我还给吉尔摩先生写了信,告诉他这桩婚事可以继续了。

第二天,我收到了沃尔特·哈特里特的来信,信中说我的朋友为他找到一份工作,要到中美洲长途旅行,他做随行的画家,11月21号动身,行程6个月。我衷心希望这是最好的安排。

劳拉和我动身前往约克郡。但是,刚刚在那里住了9天,我们就收到费尔利先生的信,让我们立即返回利默里奇。这意味着什么呢,我想不出。

一回来我就明白了。费尔利先生和珀西瓦尔爵士已经把婚礼的时间定在12月22日,就等劳拉点头同意了。费尔利先生问我可不可以说服劳拉同意这个日期,他本人神经不好,无法跟她谈。

我见到了我们的老朋友吉尔摩先生,他是来同费尔利先生谈有关结婚协议的事的。他当天就要离开庄园,着急想与我单独谈谈。

“哈尔库姆小姐,我对结婚协议中的财务安排非常不满意,”他对我说,“但是我一点儿办法也没有。我知道你多么爱你的妹妹,所以我认为你应该知道我为什么担心。

“你知道,”他接着说,“费尔利小姐继承的财产包括三部分。第一,费尔利先生死后,她会继承利默里奇的财产和土地以及由此产生的收入。如果她死后没有孩子,这份财产将转到她的一个亲戚名下,但财产的收入在她丈夫在世的时候将归他所有。如果她有个儿子,所有的财产和收入都归她的儿子。这一点没有任何问题。

“第二,明年3月费尔利小姐21岁的时候,她将得到10,000英镑的收入。如果费尔利小姐在她姑妈埃莉诺之前死去,这笔钱就归她姑妈,这当然不大可能。费尔利小姐的父亲之所以死的时候没有把这10,000英镑留给他的妹妹埃莉诺,是因为他强烈反对她嫁给一个外国人,虽然那个人是位意大利贵族,福斯科伯爵。”

“是的,劳拉跟我说过这件事。”我说。

“好吧,”吉尔摩先生接着说,“这一部分也没有问题。可是第三部分就不那么简单了。明年3月,她还将继承20,000英镑,这完全是属于她个人的一笔钱。如果她先于她丈夫死去,从这20,000英镑获得的收入将属于珀西瓦尔爵士,直至他去世;而这20,000英镑本金将归他们的孩子所有。假如没有孩子继承这笔钱,费尔利小姐死的时候,可以选择亲属或朋友继承。这是我的建议。但是,珀西瓦尔爵士的律师拒不接受这一点,他坚持认为,如果珀西瓦尔爵士死在他妻子后面,同时他们又没有孩子,珀西瓦尔就应该得到这笔钱。那样的话,费尔利家族的任何其他人,包括你在内,都得不到一分钱,哈尔库姆小姐。”

吉尔摩先生长叹了一口气,“我坚决反对这样。我极力争取,但还是无法让那位律师改变主意。我发现珀西瓦尔爵士长期欠债,急需现金。我最后的努力就是来这里试图说服费尔利先生反对珀西瓦尔爵士律师的要求,非常遗憾,我没有成功。对他侄女的这桩婚事费尔利先生什么也不想管。他说他侄女不会死在珀西瓦尔爵士前面的,又有什么可担心的呢?”

吉尔摩先生站起身,拿起帽子准备离开,“我会把协议拟好,并把它寄给你们。我没别的办法,我不这样做,费尔利先生也会再找一名律师这样做的。不过,我跟你说,哈尔库姆小姐,我是不会让我女儿根据我被迫为费尔利小姐准备的这样一份协议嫁人的。”

说完,他握了握我的手,一言不发地离开这里,去赶回伦敦的火车了。

吉尔摩先生走后,我尽量保持理智。费尔利先生是劳拉的监护人,如果他愿意接受这份协议,我做什么都无济于事。这是这桩可怕婚姻的又一个令人担忧的地方。现在更紧迫的事情是结婚日期。我把结婚的日期告诉劳拉以后,她的脸色立刻变白了,身体也开始发抖。

alt

“不要这么快!”她喊道,“噢,玛丽安,不要这么快!”

“好吧,那我去和费尔利先生说,”我这样说着,已经做好了为她去抗争的准备,“我会尽力去改变这个日期。”

“算了吧,”她有气无力地说,“一切都太晚了,玛丽安,太晚了!抗争只能带来更多的麻烦。去告诉我叔叔,我同意了。”

我要不是气愤至极,肯定就会哭出声来。我冲进费尔利先生的房间,大声喊道:“劳拉同意22日结婚!”——然后冲出去,很响地甩上门。但愿我能让他的神经一整天都不得安宁。

*  *  *

这以后,婚礼的准备工作开始了。整天都有裁缝进进出出;要收拾行李,做计划,进行各种安排。我们每天都能收到珀西瓦尔爵士的来信,他提议婚礼之后带劳拉到意大利住六个月,见一些珀西瓦尔的朋友,包括他最好的老朋友福斯科伯爵。福斯科伯爵的妻子当然就是劳拉的姑妈埃莉诺。这桩婚姻起码可以让劳拉和她的姑妈重逢,我这样想着。听起来伯爵本人倒是一个非常有趣的人,我也想有朝一日能见见他。

日子很快地过去了。珀西瓦尔爵士终于来了。他看上去有些疲倦和不安,但是有说有笑的仿佛世界上最幸福的男人就是他。他来的当天晚上去了村子里,打听是否有人知道安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。虽然没人给他提供什么消息,但我必须承认他继续寻求帮助她,这是善举。我决定努力改变对他不好的看法,说到底,我有什么理由不信任他呢?我相信如果真的努力尝试,我可能会喜欢他的。

喜欢他是很容易的。今天我同他说起劳拉与我的最大愿望——在劳拉结婚之后,我和她还能像以前一样住在一起。他立刻就答应了,而且很高兴能有这样的安排。他说我将是他妻子最理想、最合适的陪伴。是啊,我开始非常喜欢珀西瓦尔爵士了。

*  *  *

我恨珀西瓦尔爵士!他不善解人意,缺乏同情心,没有好心肠。昨天晚上,他跟劳拉耳语了些什么——劳拉不愿告诉我具体内容——她的脸色变得非常难看。而他却一点儿没在意。我以前对他所有的怀疑又出现了。现在,他是不是露出了他的本来面目?他变得比以往更加焦躁不安,经常言语尖刻,发脾气。我有个奇怪的想法,是不是会有什么事阻止这桩婚姻,而又非常害怕那样的结局。这是胡思乱想,我不能当真。

我们分别的日子一天天临近了,劳拉一刻也不肯离开我。为了她,我必须勇敢些,高兴起来。但是,我的担心没有消失。这桩婚姻会成为劳拉一生的大错吗?会成为我伤心、痛苦的根源吗?

*  *  *

22日到了。时间到了,不能再哭了。劳拉梳妆打扮完毕,我们要去教堂了。11点钟,婚礼就会结束。下午3点,他们就离开这里了。我已经哭得视线模糊,无法继续写下去了……

5
A document for signature

Six long, lonely months passed, and I had little to do but think of absent friends. I received a cheerful letter from Walter Hartright after he arrived in Honduras, and just before he set off with the expedition into the forest. Since then, I have heard nothing. There was no news of Anne Catherick or Mrs Clements. Poor Mr Gilmore fell very ill and had to give up work, but his business is continued by his partner, Mr Kyrle. Mrs Vesey has moved to London to live with her sister, and Mr Fairlie, I believe, is secretly delighted to have his house free of women.

Most of all, of course, I thought about Laura. Many letters came from her, but she said very little in them. She told me she was well, but hardly mentioned her husband, and wrote not a word about Count Fosco, whom they had met in Austria, not Italy. I understood from her silence that she did not like him. All she said was that her Aunt Eleanor, Madame Fosco, was quieter and more sensible than she had used to be.

*  *  *

On 11th June I arrived at Blackwater Park, Sir Percival's family home in Hampshire. The waiting was nearly over, and how happy I was! The next day Laura and her husband would return home, together with Count Fosco and his wife, who were going to spend the summer at Blackwater.

In the morning the housekeeper, Mrs Michelson, showed me round the house. It is very old, and much of it is dusty and unused; only one part of the enormous building is comfortable enough to live in.

Later I explored the gardens and the park. The gardens are small and not well kept, and there are so many trees that the house feels shut in by them. I found a path through the trees, which after half a mile brought me to a lake. It was a damp, lonely place. The still dark waters of the lake and the long shadows from the tall trees gave it a gloomy air. Near the lake there was an old boat-house with some seats in it, so I went in and sat down for a rest.

I am not a nervous person generally but when I heard the sound of quick breathing under my seat, I jumped to my feet in alarm. In fact, it was a dog — a small black and white dog, with a bullet wound in its side. I carried the poor creature back to the house and sent for Mrs Michelson to help me.

When she came in and saw the dog lying on the floor, she cried out at once, 'Oh! That must be Mrs Catherick's dog!'

'Whose?' I asked, amazed.

'Mrs Catherick's. Do you know her? She came here to ask for news of her daughter.'

'When?'

'Yesterday. She'd heard that her daughter Anne had been seen in the neighbourhood. But no one knew anything. I suppose the dog ran away into the woods and got shot by the park-keeper.'

I tried to make my voice sound politely interested. 'I suppose you've known Mrs Catherick for some years?'

'Oh no, Miss Halcombe, I never saw her before. She lives at Welmingham, twenty-five miles away. I had heard of her, because of Sir Percival paying for her daughter to go to an asylum. But yesterday, Mrs Catherick asked me not to mention her visit to Sir Percival. That was an odd thing to say, wasn't it, Miss?'

Odd, indeed! But then we had to turn our attention to the poor dog, which, despite our efforts, died a little while later. It was a sad thing to happen on my first day at Blackwater.

*  *  *

Later that evening the travellers returned. After my first happiness at meeting Laura, I felt there was a strangeness between us and I realized she had changed. I was sure we would soon get back to normal, but she had lost her innocent openness. She was unwilling to talk about her married life, and I saw that there were no warm feelings between her husband and her. It wasn't long before she asked me about Walter — 'Have you heard from him? Is he well and happy?' — and it was clear to me that she loved him as deeply as ever.

As for Sir Percival, his manners are sharper and less pleasant. On meeting me he simply said, 'Hello, Miss Halcombe. Glad to see you again,' — and then walked past me. Little things seem to annoy him a great deal. For example, the housekeeper told him a man had called to speak to him a week ago but had left no name. Sir Percival demanded a description of the man, which poor Mrs Michelson was unable to give, and Sir Percival stormed out of the room in great anger.

Laura was certainly right about Madame Fosco. Never have I seen such a change in a woman. As Eleanor Fairlie (aged thirty-seven), she wore bright clothes, was silly and foolish, and always talked nonsense. As Madame Fosco (aged forty-three), she wears only grey or black, and sits for hours in silence, doing needlework, rolling up cigarettes for the Count, or just looking at him with the eyes of a loyal dog.

And the man who has achieved this extraordinary change, the man who has tamed this wild Englishwoman? Yes, what can I say about the Count? He looks like a man who could tame anything. If he had married me, I would have made his cigarettes, as his wife does. I would have held my tongue when he looked at me, as she holds hers.

How can I explain the power, the attraction, the force that comes from this man? There are many unlikeable or unattractive things about him. For example, he is enormously fat; he seems to have false hair; he is at least sixty years old. He is lazy, jumps at the slightest sudden sound, and has a peculiar fondness for pet animals. He has brought with him a variety of birds and a whole family of white mice, which he often kisses and calls loving names, just as a child might do.

And yet, and yet... He is fat, but moves lightly and easily, like a dancer. There is a calmness and a strength about his smooth, unlined face, and his voice is persuasive, gentle, hard to resist. His knowledge of the English language is perfect and he is a well-known expert in chemical science. He speaks in baby language to his white mice, but he talks with intelligence and charm about books in every language, and brings to his conversation experience of life in half the capitals of Europe.

But it is his eyes that I shall always remember — his cold, clear, beautiful grey eyes, eyes which held such a frightening power that I shiver even now to think of it.

I could discover very little about his past from Sir Percival. I only learnt that he had not been to Italy for years; I wondered if this was for political reasons. It seemed he had saved Sir Percival from great danger in Rome once and they had been the closest of friends ever since. It was quite clear that Sir Percival was always anxious to please him and would never go against his wishes.

I wonder whether I am afraid of him too. I certainly never saw a man I would be more sorry to have as an enemy.

*  *  *

At lunchtime, a few days after they all returned, a man called Mr Merriman arrived, asking to see Sir Percival urgently. Sir Percival had clearly not expected the visit and looked both alarmed and angry as he left the table.

Neither Laura nor I had any idea who Mr Merriman was, but the Count told us he was Sir Percival's lawyer. I wondered what had happened, as a lawyer does not usually travel from London to Hampshire unless sent for. Mr Merriman must be the bringer of important news — either good or bad.

Count Fosco obviously read my thoughts and said softly to me, 'Yes, Miss Halcombe, something has happened.'

Later in the day I was coming from my room when I saw Sir Percival and his lawyer crossing the hall downstairs. They spoke quietly, but clearly enough for their words to reach my ears.

'Yes, Sir Percival,' I heard the lawyer say, 'it all depends on Lady Glyde.'

I immediately stopped when I heard Laura's name and, although I knew it was wrong, continued to listen.

'You understand, Sir Percival, Lady Glyde must sign her name in the presence of two witnesses. If this is done in a week's time, everything will be all right. If not, I may be able to get them to accept a document promising payment in three months. But how that money is to be obtained by then... '

They went into the library and I heard no more, but it seemed that Sir Percival had a serious debt and that the solution to it depended on Laura. I immediately went to tell Laura what I had heard. She did not seem surprised.

'I was afraid of something like this,' she said, 'when I heard about that strange gentleman who called, without leaving his name. He had probably come to ask for his money. But don't worry, Marian. I won't sign anything that I might later regret.'

In the evening Sir Percival was unusually polite and pleasant to all of us. What did this mean? I thought I could guess — I was afraid Laura could guess — and I was sure Count Fosco knew. I saw Sir Percival looking at him for approval more than once during the evening. The Count was certainly aware of Sir Percival's financial problems.

The next morning Sir Percival asked Count Fosco, Laura, and myself if we would go to the library for a minute after lunch for a small business matter. Before lunch, however, we all went for a walk to the lake, stopping at the boat-house for a rest.

'Some people call the lake pretty,' said Sir Percival, pointing to the view. 'I call it ugly. It looks just the place for a murder, doesn't it? What do you think, Fosco?'

'My dear Percival,' the Count protested, 'the water is too shallow to hide a body. Only a fool would murder someone here. A wise man would choose somewhere else.'

'Wise men do not murder,' said Laura, looking at him with dislike. 'I am sure you cannot give me an example of a wise man who has been a criminal.'

'My dear lady,' said the Count, 'it is impossible to give an example, because a wise man's crime is never found out.'

As he spoke, he was playing with his white mice in their little cage, and suddenly noticed that one of them was missing. A few seconds later he found the little animal under a seat, but also found something which seemed to shock him.

'Percival,' he said, 'come here. Look at this in the sand. Blood!'

Everyone seemed alarmed, so I had to explain about the wounded dog I had found.

'Whose dog was it?' asked Sir Percival.

'The housekeeper said it was Mrs Catherick's dog,' I replied, remembering too late that the visit was meant to be kept secret.

'What the devil was Mrs Catherick doing here?'

This question came with such rudeness and anger that I turned away. Count Fosco laid his hand on Sir Percival's arm.

'My dear Percival! Gently, gently!'

To my great surprise, Sir Percival apologized to me, and Count Fosco then said, 'Why not question the housekeeper, Percival, since she seems to know all about it?'

Sir Percival took the point, and immediately left us to return to the house.

The Count seemed fascinated by Mrs Catherick and wanted to know all about her visit. I tried to say as little as possible, but Laura asked questions too, and in the end the Count knew as much as we did about Mrs Catherick and her daughter Anne. I was quite sure, from his surprise at the story, that the Count had known nothing of Anne Catherick, and uneasily I wondered why Sir Percival had not told his closest friend.

When we went back to the house, Sir Percival came to greet us. 'I am sorry to say I have to leave you. I have to drive a long way and won't be back until tomorrow. First, though, I would like to finish that little business matter. Will you come into the library? It won't take a minute.'

In the library he got a document out of a cupboard and put it on the table. It was folded in such a way that all the writing was hidden and only the places to sign were visible.

Handing a pen to Laura, he said, 'Sign there. You and Fosco are to sign afterwards, Miss Halcombe.'

'What do you want me to sign?' Laura asked quietly.

'I have no time to explain. I have to leave. It's just business,' he said angrily. 'Women don't understand business. Just sign it.'

'But surely I ought to know what I am signing.'

'I see. So you're saying you don't trust me! Is that it? What kind of a wife is that?'

To help Laura, I said, 'I am afraid I cannot be a witness if she doesn't understand what she is signing.'

Sir Percival turned to me furiously. 'How dare you! You're a guest in my house and you take my wife's side against me!'

'Control your unfortunate temper, Percival,' said the Count, and I heard him whisper to him, 'You idiot!'

But Laura had put the pen down and moved to my side.

'Lady Glyde is right,' the Count then said. 'Let the signature wait until tomorrow.'

Sir Percival swore at him, but moved away from the table.

'All right, then,' he said, 'until tomorrow. Anyway, I have to go. But you will sign tomorrow or —' He gave his wife a cold, hard stare, then went out.

As Laura and I moved to the door, the Count approached us. 'You have just seen Sir Percival at his worst,' he said. 'As his old friend, I apologize for him and promise he won't behave like that tomorrow.'

I had begun to realize that I could not hope to remain at Blackwater Park now without the influence and support of the Count, so I answered by thanking him warmly. Then I led Laura out and took her up to my room for a rest.

While we were there, she told me how cruel Sir Percival had been to her since their marriage and how unhappy she was. I tried to calm her and to find a solution to the problem of the signature. Suddenly I had the idea of writing to Mr Gilmore's partner, Mr Kyrle, and asking for his advice. In my letter I also asked him to get a messenger to bring the reply by one o'clock the next day. I then put the letter in the post-bag in the hall. Just at that moment Madame Fosco appeared and asked to speak to me in the garden. She spoke to me for a full half-hour about how much sympathy she had for me. I found this very odd indeed since she had shown very little interest in me before.

When I finally returned, I saw the Count also putting a letter in the post-bag. For some reason I decided to check my letter was properly closed, so I got it out of the bag. This was lucky, as I found the envelope had come open. How strange, I thought. Perhaps there had been something wrong with it...

Or perhaps...

No! There could be no other explanation.


absent adj. not present 不在场的

free of not containing or subject to 没有

enormous adj. very large, huge 非常大的

gloomy adj. dismal, depressing 阴暗的;阴郁的

creature n. an animal 动物

neighbourhood n. the surrounding area 附近

odd adj. extraordinary, strange 反常的;奇怪的

storm v. move violently or angrily 气愤地走

tame v. make tame 驯服

hold one's tongue be silent 不说话

enormously adv. very, quite 非常

frightening adj. terrifying 使人害怕的

go against be contrary to 反对

urgently adv. requiring immediate action or attention 急迫地

obtain v. acquire, secure 得到;获得

library n. a room containing a collection of books 书房

aware adj. conscious or having knowledge 清楚;知道

murder n. killing unlawfully with a premeditated motive 谋杀

rudeness n. being impolite or offensive 无礼

fascinated adj. showing great interest in 非常感兴趣的

fold v. bend or close something over upon itself 折叠

furiously adv. extremely angry 极度气愤地

swear v. use indecent language 骂人

stare n. a staring gaze

messenger n. a person who carries a message 信使

properly adv. fittingly; suitably 适当地

5.需要签字的文件

漫长、孤寂的六个月过去了。除去思念不在身边的朋友们,我无所事事。我收到一封沃尔特·哈特里特的来信,是他到达洪都拉斯,进入林地之前写的。从那以后,他就没有了任何消息。安妮·凯瑟里克和克莱门茨太太没有任何音信。可怜的吉尔摩先生病得很厉害,不得不停止工作。他的工作由他的合伙人克尔先生代理。维西太太搬到了伦敦,和她妹妹住在一起。我想费尔利先生一定暗自高兴这庄园里没有了女人。

我最思念的当然是劳拉。她来过许多信,但是内容都非常简单。她说她挺好的,却只字不提她丈夫,也不提福斯科伯爵。他们是在奥地利相见的,而不是在意大利。从她的沉默我看得出,她不喜欢他。她只是说到埃莉诺姑妈,就是福斯科夫人,比以前话少了,也更理智了。

*  *  *

6月11日,我来到布莱克沃特庄园,珀西瓦尔爵士在汉普郡的家。等待终于快结束了,我异常兴奋。第二天,劳拉同她丈夫就要回来了,一同来的还有福斯科伯爵夫妇,他们要在布莱克沃特度过这个夏天。

早上,管家米切尔森太太领我参观了房子。这是一幢很古老的房子,多处是厚厚的尘土,没有人住。偌大的房子只有一部分还比较舒适,可以住人。

之后,我去看了看花园和园林。花园很小,维护得也不好。这周围树木非常多,遮蔽了房子。我发现了树林中的一条小路,沿着小路走了半英里之后是一个湖。这是一个潮湿僻静的地方。平静漆黑的湖水和长长的树影使这里笼上了一层阴暗、凄凉的色彩。湖的附近有一个破旧的船屋,里面有几个座位,我走进去坐下休息。

我并不是一个胆小的人,但是听见座位底下传来急促的喘息声,我还是惊得一下子跳了起来。其实,那是只狗——一只黑白相间的小狗,身子的一侧有子弹的伤痕。我把可怜的小东西带回房子里,叫来米切尔森太太帮我。

米切尔森太太进来看见地上躺着的小狗,马上大声说:“噢,这一定是凯瑟里克太太的狗!”

“是谁的狗?”我非常吃惊地问。

“凯瑟里克太太的。你认识她吗?她来这里打听过她女儿的消息。”

“什么时候?”

“就是昨天。她听说有人在附近看见过她女儿安妮。可是没人知道这件事。我想这条狗可能跑到树林里去,让看林人给打了。”

我尽量让自己听起来不是过分好奇,“你是不是认识凯瑟里克太太好多年了?”

“噢,也不是,哈尔库姆小姐。我以前没见过她。她住在离这里25英里远的韦明翰。我听说过她,因为珀西瓦尔爵士出钱送她女儿去精神病院。但是昨天,凯瑟里克太太让我别跟珀西瓦尔爵士讲她来过的事。这有点儿怪,是吧,小姐?”

奇怪,的确奇怪!但是,我们得把注意力集中到那只小狗身上,虽然我们尽力挽救,没过多久它还是死了。我第一天到布莱克沃特就发生了一件令人伤心的事。

*  *  *

当天晚上,旅行者们都回来了。我见到劳拉的高兴劲儿刚过,就觉得我们之间有一种奇怪的感觉,我意识到她变了。我相信,我们之间很快就会像从前一样。但是她好像失去了原来的纯真和坦诚。她不愿谈自己的婚后生活,而且我发现她同她丈夫之间毫无亲密可言。她很快就向我问起沃尔特:“你收到他的信了吗?他好吗?”显而易见,她还在深深地爱着他。

至于珀西瓦尔爵士,他的脾气变得越发暴躁,越发不讨人喜欢。见到我,他只是简单地说了声“你好,哈尔库姆小姐。很高兴又见到你。”然后就从我身边走过去了。一点点小事也会让他大为恼火。举个例子,米切尔森太太告诉他一个星期前有个男人来找他,但没有留下姓名。珀西瓦尔爵士问那人什么模样,可怜的米切尔森太太说不上来,于是珀西瓦尔爵士勃然大怒,气急败坏地走出房间。

关于福斯科夫人,劳拉说得很对。我从未见过哪个女人身上会发生如此大的变化。她是埃莉诺·费尔利小姐的时候(当时她37岁),经常穿鲜亮的衣服,说傻话,做傻事。她成了福斯科夫人以后(现在她43岁),只穿灰色和黑色的衣服,而且经常几个小时坐在那里一声不吭地做针线,给伯爵卷烟或者像一条忠诚的狗一样望着伯爵。

那么,那个导致了如此变化,驯服了这么一个桀骜不驯的英国女人的男人呢?对,我该怎么描述伯爵呢?他好像可以驯服一切。假如他娶了,我也会像他妻子一样给他卷烟,我也会像她一样被他看一眼就闭上嘴。

我应该怎么解释这个男人的魔力、魅力和影响呢?其实,他身上有许多不招人喜欢的地方。比方说,他体形肥胖,似乎还戴假发,而且少说也有60岁了。他人很懒,听到任何一点儿响动都会跳起来,还特别爱养宠物。他带来各种各样的鸟和一大窝白鼠。他就像小孩子一样,时常亲吻这些宠物,用昵称叫它们。

可是,可是……他身体肥胖,但动作像舞蹈演员一样轻巧灵便。他的脸很光滑,没有皱纹;表情沉稳庄重。他的声音很柔和,有一种难以抵挡的魅力。他精通英语,还是个化学家。他用儿语对白鼠讲话,但是谈到用任何语言写作的书籍,他都睿智机敏,滔滔不绝。他到过一半欧洲国家的首都。他经常谈起在那些城市的经历。

但让我铭记在心的是他的眼睛——一双冷酷、明亮、好看的灰眼睛。他的眼睛有一种慑人的威力,我现在想起来还会打哆嗦。

关于他的过去,我从珀西瓦尔爵士那儿知道的很少。我只知道他很多年没回意大利了,不知道是不是由于政治原因。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士在罗马遇到大难,伯爵帮助他脱离了危险。从那以后,他们成了密友。很明显,珀西瓦尔爵士总是力图讨好伯爵,从不跟他对着干。

我不知道自己是不是也害怕他。但是,他是我所见过的人中我最不愿与之成为敌人的。

*  *  *

他们旅行回来几天后,吃午饭的时候,一个叫梅里曼的人来了,要求马上见珀西瓦尔爵士。看得出,珀西瓦尔没想到这个人会来,他起身出去的时候显得既吃惊又生气。

劳拉和我都不知道梅里曼先生是何许人。伯爵告诉我们他是珀西瓦尔爵士的律师。我不知道出了什么事,因为除了被唤而来,律师是不会从伦敦到汉普郡来的。梅里曼先生一定带来了什么重要消息——不管是好消息还是坏消息。

福斯科伯爵显然看出了我的心事,轻声对我说:“没错,哈尔库姆小姐,确实出事了。”

后来,我从房里出来,看见珀西瓦尔爵士和律师正穿过楼下的大厅。他们说话的声音很低,但还是清晰地传进我的耳朵里。

“是的,珀西瓦尔爵士,”我听见律师说,“一切都取决于格莱德夫人了。”

听到劳拉的名字,我马上停住了脚步。我知道这样做不好,但还是接着往下听。

“你知道,珀西瓦尔爵士,格莱德夫人必须在两个证人在场的情况下签字,只要这件事在一星期之内办妥,一切都好说。如果不行,我可以准备一份文件,向他们保证三个月后付款。可是,三个月后怎么能弄到钱呢……?”

他们走进书房,下面的话我听不见了。好像珀西瓦尔爵士欠了一大笔债,而还债就取决于劳拉。我立即把刚刚听到的消息告诉了劳拉,她看上去一点儿也不惊讶。

“我料到会出这种事,”劳拉说,“在我听说来了一位没有留下姓名的陌生人时,我就料到了。那人很可能是来要钱的。不过别怕,玛丽安,任何今后我可能后悔的文件,我都不会签的。”

那天晚上,珀西瓦尔爵士对我们大家异乎寻常地客气。这说明什么呢?我想我能猜出来——劳拉也能猜出来——而且我敢肯定福斯科伯爵清楚其中的奥秘。我注意到珀西瓦尔有好几次都用眼神征求伯爵的意见。伯爵肯定清楚珀西瓦尔爵士的经济困境。

第二天早上,珀西瓦尔爵士让福斯科伯爵、劳拉还有我午饭后到书房来一下,谈一点事情。午饭前我们一同散步来到了湖边,在船屋里歇脚。

“有人说这湖很美,”珀西瓦尔爵士指着周围的景色说,“我觉得它很丑,像个发生凶案的地方,不是吗?你觉得呢,福斯科?”

“我亲爱的珀西瓦尔,”伯爵反对道,“这里的水太浅了,根本藏不住尸体,只有傻子才在这里谋杀。聪明人会选择别的地方。”

“聪明人不会去杀人的,”劳拉一面说着,一面不高兴地看着伯爵,“我相信你找不出一个聪明人犯罪的例子。”

“亲爱的夫人,”伯爵说,“我可找不出例子,因为聪明人犯罪不会让人知道。”

伯爵一边说着,一边摆弄着小笼子里的白鼠。他突然发现少了一只,但很快在一个座位底下找到了它,同时还发现了让他大吃一惊的东西。

“珀西瓦尔,快过来。你看这沙子,上面有血!”他说。

大家都很吃惊,我不得不告诉他们我发现那只受伤的狗的事情。

“谁的狗?”珀西瓦尔爵士问。

“管家说是凯瑟里克太太的。”我回答,忽然想起来这应该是秘密,可是太晚了。

“凯瑟里克太太到这儿来干什么?”

珀西瓦尔问得既气愤又无礼,我转过身去。福斯科伯爵拍了拍珀西瓦尔的胳膊。

“亲爱的珀西瓦尔!别着急,别着急!”

出乎我的意料,珀西瓦尔给我道了歉。伯爵接着说:“为什么不问问管家呢,珀西瓦尔?她好像知道事情的来龙去脉。”

珀西瓦尔爵士接受了这个建议,马上告辞回了庄园。

伯爵似乎对凯瑟里克太太非常感兴趣,想了解她那次来的所有情况。我尽量少透露信息,可是劳拉也问这问那。最后,我们知道的关于凯瑟里克太太以及她女儿安妮的情况,伯爵全都知道了。从伯爵惊讶的表情我可以断定,在这之前他对安妮·凯瑟里克一无所知。我很纳闷,为什么珀西瓦尔爵士不告诉他的好朋友这些事。

我们回到庄园,珀西瓦尔爵士过来同我们打招呼,“很抱歉,我得跟大家告辞。我要赶很长一段路,明天才能回来。不过,我想走之前了结那件小事。到书房来好吗?一会儿就好。”

来到书房,他从柜子里取出一份文件放到桌子上。文件是叠起来的,文字部分都遮住了,只能看见签字的部分。

他把一支笔递给劳拉,说:“在这儿签字吧。哈尔库姆小姐,你和福斯科等会儿再签。”

alt

“你要我签的是什么文件?”劳拉平静地问。

“我没时间解释,我得走了,就是一份公文,”珀西瓦尔很不高兴地说,“你们女人不懂,你就签字吧。”

“我当然有理由知道我签的是什么。”

“我明白了,你的意思是你不信任我!对吗?这叫什么妻子?”

我站在劳拉一边,说:“如果她不知道签的是什么,那我恐怕无法做证人。”

珀西瓦尔爵士愤怒地转向我,“你好大的胆子!你是我的客人,可却站在我妻子一边同我作对!”

“控制一下你的臭脾气,珀西瓦尔,”伯爵说,我听他对珀西瓦尔耳语:“你这笨蛋!”

劳拉放下笔,走到我身旁。

“格莱德夫人说的对,”伯爵说,“签字的事明天再说吧。”

珀西瓦尔爵士朝他破口大骂,但还是走开了。

“那好吧,”珀西瓦尔说,“那就等明天。不管怎样,我现在得走了。但是,你明天必须签字,否则——”他恶狠狠地瞪了他妻子一眼,然后走出了房间。

劳拉和我往外走的时候,伯爵走了过来。“你们刚才看到了珀西瓦尔爵士脾气最差的样子,”他说,“作为他的老朋友,我替他道歉。我保证他明天不会这样了。”

我开始明白,现在要是没有伯爵的帮助,我是不大可能接续呆在布莱克沃特庄园的。我真心地感谢了他。然后,我拉着劳拉上楼,到我的房间休息一会儿。

在我的房间里,劳拉告诉我结婚后珀西瓦尔爵士对待她多么冷酷,她多么不开心。我努力安慰她,帮她想办法解决签字的问题。忽然,我想到了给吉尔摩先生的合伙人克尔先生写信,问问他的意见。我在信里叫他派一个信使第二天1点之前把回信带过来。写完后,我把信放到了大厅的邮袋里。就在这时,福斯科夫人走过来,约我到花园里谈谈。她跟我足足说了半个小时她有多么同情我。我觉得非常奇怪,因为她以前根本就不在意我。

我回到屋里,看到福斯科伯爵也在往邮袋里放信。不知出于什么原因,我决定查看一下我的信是不是封好了。于是,我把我的那封信拿了出来。我还真做对了,我发现信封是开着的。好奇怪呀,我心里想。也许有人在捣鬼……

也许……

没错!不会是别的原因。

6
An appointment by the lake

After dinner that evening, Laura and I went for a walk down to the lake. The atmosphere was gloomy and depressing, but at least we were alone.

'I want to have no secrets from you, Marian,' Laura said, 'but I'm sure you have already guessed what my married life is like. Sir Percival said such cruel things to me in Italy that I turned for comfort to my memories of those happy days with Walter Hartright. And I have to tell you, Marian, Sir Percival now knows that Walter is the man I loved.'

I stared at her, and what little hope I had left began to die.

'It was at a party in Rome. Some people from London said I should have drawing lessons and recommended a Mr Hartright. I could not control myself when I heard his name and my husband noticed. "So it was him, was it?" he said, with a horrible smile. "Well, we will see about Mr Hartright. You will be sorry, and so will he, to the end of your lives." And Marian, he uses this knowledge like a whip to punish me, day in, day out.'

'Oh, Laura!' I said, putting my arms around her. This was my fault — yes, my fault! I remembered the white despair of Walter's face as I told him to leave, as I tore these two young hearts apart. And I had done this for Sir Percival Glyde.

For Sir Percival Glyde.

*  *  *

It was growing dark when we set out for home, and as we left Laura seized my arm. 'Marian, look!'

By the lake was a dark figure, half hidden by the evening mist rising off the water. We began to walk quickly.

'I'm sure it's following us,' whispered Laura. 'Is it a man or a woman?' She was shaking with fear.

'It's hard to tell in this light,' I said, then called out, 'Who's there?' There was no answer.

We hurried back through the wood, and when we reached home, I sent Laura upstairs and went to find out where everyone was. The Count and his wife, the servants, the housekeeper — all were inside. The figure by the lake was no one from the house. So who could it have been?

The next day Laura discovered she had lost her bracelet and thought she must have dropped it near the lake. She went off to look for it while I waited for the messenger from Mr Kyrle.

One o'clock came. By now I was so suspicious of everyone in the house that I decided to slip out and meet the messenger myself. Taking great care not to be seen, I went down to the main gate and a little way along the road. Soon a cab appeared. I stopped it and said, 'Are you going to Blackwater Park?'

A man put his head out and said, 'Yes, with a letter for Miss Halcombe.'

'You may give the letter to me,' I said. 'I am Miss Halcombe.'

I read the letter quickly.


Dear Miss Halcombe — Your letter has caused me great anxiety. It seems very likely that Lady Glyde's signature is needed so that a Loan of all or part of her £20,000 can be made to Sir Percival. This is almost certainly illegal, and Lady Glyde should not sign any document until I have examined it first.

Sincerely, William Kyrle.


I read this very thankfully and told the messenger to say that I understood the letter. As I spoke these words, Count Fosco came round the corner and suddenly appeared in front of me. Completely taken by surprise, I stared at him speechlessly. The messenger drove away in his cab, and the Count took my arm to walk home with me.

He talked pleasantly of this and that, and asked no questions about letters or messengers, so I assumed he had found out everything. He must have read my letter, returned it to the post-bag, and now knew that I had received an answer. There was no point in trying to deceive him so I said nothing, and just tried to seem quite cool and calm.

Back at the house we found that Sir Percival had returned, in an even worse mood than before, it seemed. When I told him Laura was out looking for her bracelet, he growled,

'Bracelet or no bracelet, I shall expect to see her in the library in half an hour.'

I turned to go into the house, but behind me heard the Count saying to Sir Percival, 'May I have five minutes' talk with you, here on the grass?'

They walked off together and I went inside to the sitting room, to think over all that had happened. Before long, however, the door opened softly and the Count looked in.

'Good news, Miss Halcombe,' he said. 'The business of the signature is put off for the moment. I'm sure you are relieved.'

He went out before I had recovered from my amazement. There could be no doubt that this change was due to his influence. His discovery of my writing to London and receiving an answer had caused him to interfere. Now there was even more to think about but, exhausted by worry and the heat of the day, my eyes closed and I fell into a little sleep.

I woke to find Laura's hand on my shoulder.

'Marian! The figure at the lake. I've just spoken to her! It's Anne Catherick. Look, she found my bracelet.'

Still half asleep, I stared at her stupidly. 'Anne Catherick?'

'Yes! I was searching in the boat-house,' Laura went on, 'when a woman in a white dress came in and said quietly, "Miss Fairlie. I have your bracelet. Your mother would not want you to lose it. "I jumped up, but her voice was so kind that I wasn't afraid. I asked her how she knew my mother. She said her name was Anne Catherick and asked me if I remembered as a little girl walking with her and my mother to the school in Limmeridge one day. I did remember. Suddenly I saw that we were like each other, but her face was pale and thin and tired. It was how my face might look after a long illness. "Why do you call me Miss Fairlie?" I asked, and she answered, "Because I love the name of Fairlie and hate the name of Glyde."'

'Did she say anything about your husband?' I asked.

'She said that after she wrote the letter, she did not have the courage to stay in Limmeridge to try to prevent my marriage to him. She was afraid he would find her and shut her up in the asylum again. But she was not afraid any more because she was so ill she thought she was dying. Then, Marian, she said that she and her mother knew a secret that my husband was afraid of.'

'Yes? Go on!' I said eagerly. 'What secret?'

'She was just going to tell me, when she thought she heard a noise outside. "We are not alone," she said, "someone is watching. Come here tomorrow at this time and I will tell you." Then she pushed me to one side and disappeared.'

'Oh, Laura, Laura, another chance lost! But you must keep the appointment tomorrow. It seems so important. I will follow you at a safe distance. She must not escape this time.'

We were silent for a time. Then Laura said anxiously, 'Why hasn't Sir Percival called us to the library to sign the document?'

'Oh yes! I forgot to tell you,' I said. 'Thanks to Count Fosco, the business of the signature has been postponed.'

'But why?' Laura said, amazed. 'If Sir Percival urgently needs money, how can it be postponed?'

'I heard Sir Percival's lawyer mention a second plan — to give a document promising payment in three months.'

'Oh, Marian!' she said. 'That would be such a relief.'

'Yes, it would. Let's hope that it's true.'

That evening Sir Percival was polite, even pleasant, especially to Laura. This must have been due to the Count's influence, and it worried me. What lay behind it? I was sure that Sir Percival's sudden journey yesterday had been to Welmingham, to question Mrs Catherick. What had he learnt? What were his plans? As the evening passed, I grew more and more uneasy, and I went to bed feeling very anxious about what the next day would bring.

*  *  *

I was not wrong to be anxious. The next day Laura and I arranged that after lunch she would go alone to the boat-house, and that I would follow a little later, taking great care that Anne Catherick did not see me, in case she was frightened by the appearance of another stranger.

Sir Percival had gone out earlier in the morning and did not appear even for lunch, so it was quite easy to put our plan into action. However, when I came quietly up to the back of the boat-house, I heard no voices, no sounds of movement, nothing. Soon I was searching inside the boat-house, and softly calling Laura's name. But no one answered and no one appeared. Outside, I searched the ground for signs, and found the footprints of two people in the sand — big footprints like a man's and small footprints, which I was sure were Laura's. There was also a little hole in the sand by the wall of the boat-house.

Desperate with worry, I hurried back to the house. The first person I met was Mrs Michelson, the housekeeper.

'Do you know,' I asked, 'whether Lady Glyde has come in?'

'Yes, she has, Miss Halcombe. And I am afraid something unfortunate has happened. Lady Glyde ran upstairs in tears and Sir Percival has told me to dismiss her servant, Fanny.'

My heart sank. Fanny was Laura's personal servant from Limmeridge, and the only person in the house we both trusted.

I ran upstairs to Laura's room. Her door was shut, and there was one of Sir Percival's house servants standing in front of it.

'Move away,' I said. 'Don't you see that I want to go in?'

'But you mustn't go in,' she answered. 'I have my orders.'

Wild with anger, I turned and went downstairs to find Sir Percival. He was in the library with the Count and Countess.

'Am I to understand that your wife's room is a prison?' I asked, staring him full in the face.

'Yes, that is what you are to understand,' he answered.

'Take care how you treat your wife!' I shouted furiously. 'There are laws to protect women, and I will use those laws.'

Instead of answering me, he turned to the Count. The Count looked at me with his calm, cold, grey eyes. But it was the Countess who spoke.

'Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Percival,' she said suddenly. 'But I cannot remain in a house where ladies are treated as your wife and Miss Halcombe have been treated today!'

Sir Percival stared at her in shocked silence, knowing, as I did, she would not have said this without the Count's permission.

'I agree with my wife,' the Count said quietly.

Sir Percival swore, then whispered angrily, 'All right, have your own way.' With these words he left the room.

'We have made the worst-tempered man in England see reason,' said the Count. 'Thanks to your courage, Miss Halcombe, this insulting situation is now ended.'

I tried to speak normally, but could not. The Count left the library, then returned a few minutes later to say that Lady Glyde had the freedom of her own house again. Immediately I rushed upstairs to Laura's room. She was alone inside and I was in such a hurry that I did not close the door properly behind me.

'Marian!' she said thankfully. 'How did you get here?'

'It was the Count's influence, of course,' I said.

'That horrible man!' she cried. 'He's a miserable spy!'

Just then we heard a knock on the door. It was the Countess, bringing me a handkerchief I had dropped. Her face was white, and I saw in her eyes that she had been listening at the door.

'Oh, Laura,' I said when she had gone, 'you shouldn't have called the Count a spy. We shall both regret it.'

'But he is a spy, Marian! There was someone watching me at the lake yesterday, and it was him. He told Sir Percival, who watched and waited all morning for me and Anne Catherick. But she didn't come — I found a note from her hidden in a hole in the sand. She said she'd been followed yesterday by a fat old man. He hadn't caught her, but she was afraid to come back this afternoon. She hid this note very early in the morning, and said she would see me again soon to tell me Sir Percival's secret.'

'What happened to the note?' I said. 'Have you got it?'

'No. While I was reading it, Sir Percival appeared. He took it from me and demanded to hear everything Anne Catherick had said. He held my arm so tightly! — look, see how he's bruised it. What could I do, Marian? I was helpless! I told him everything.'

I looked at the bruises on Laura's arm, and felt such furious hatred for Sir Percival that I dared not speak.

'But he didn't believe me,' Laura went on. 'He said he knew she had told me more and that he would lock me up until I had confessed the truth. Then he took me back to the house, gave orders for Fanny to leave, and locked me in my room. Oh, Marian, he was like a madman! What are we to do?'

'He is mad — mad with fear. He thinks you know his secret,' I said. 'I must act now to protect you — who knows how long I will be allowed to stay here?' I thought hard for a few minutes. 'I will write two letters and give them to Fanny to take with her. I can't trust the post-bag here any more. One for Mr Kyrle, telling him of your bruises and Sir Percival's violent behaviour.'

'And who is the other letter for?' asked Laura anxiously.

'For Mr Fairlie,' I said. 'Your lazy, selfish uncle. I'll make him invite you for a visit to Limmeridge, without your husband.'

I left her then and went to my room to write the letters. Fanny had already gone and was staying the night in the little hotel in the village, before beginning the long journey to Cumberland the next day. I decided I had time before dinner to walk to the village and back, so I slipped quietly out of the house and set off.

From time to time I looked behind me. Was I being followed? Or was my imagination playing tricks on me? By now I was suspicious of everything — every tiny sound, every shadow on the road, every breath of wind. Earlier, while writing the letters, I thought I had heard the rustle of a silk dress outside my door. I had even wondered if someone had been in my room, looking through the things in my desk. I hurried on, trying to put these thoughts out of my mind.

When I got to the little hotel, I saw Fanny in her room. She was very upset at leaving Laura, and started crying, but stopped when I told her that Lady Glyde and I needed her help.

'Here are two letters,' I said. 'Post the one addressed to Mr Kyrle in London tomorrow, and deliver the other to Mr Fairlie yourself when you get home to Limmeridge. Keep them safe!'

Fanny put the letters down the front of her dress. 'They'll stay there, miss,' she said, 'till I've done what you tell me.'


day in, day out one day after another 一天又一天地

seize v. take hold of forcibly or suddenly 紧紧抓住

illegal adj. contrary to law 不合法的

assume v. take or accept as being true, without proof 推想

growl v. murmur angrily 咕哝

put off postpone 推迟

exhaust v. use up the strength or resources of a person 筋疲力尽

postpone v. put off 推迟

footprint n. the impression left by a foot or shoe 脚印;鞋印

dismiss v. discharge from employment 辞退

hospitality n. the friendly and generous reception or entertainment of guests or strangers 热情款待

insulting adj. offending one self-respect or modesty 侮辱性的

bruise v. inflict a bruise on 使受淤伤

selfish adj. deficient in consideration for others 自私的

breath n. slight movement of air 轻风

6.湖畔之约

那天晚饭后,劳拉和我散步来到湖边。周围的环境昏暗而压抑,但至少我们可以单独在一起。

“我不愿对你有任何秘密,玛丽安,”劳拉开口说,“但是,我相信你已经猜到我婚后的生活是什么样子。在意大利,珀西瓦尔爵士跟我说了很多恶毒的话,我只能借助回忆同沃尔特·哈特里特在一起的幸福时光来寻求安慰。我得告诉你,玛丽安,珀西瓦尔爵士现在已经知道沃尔特是我所爱的人了。”

我的眼睛紧盯着她,心中仅存的一线希望也开始泯灭了。

“那是在罗马的一次聚会上,几个从伦敦来的朋友说我应该学学绘画,并向我推荐哈特里特先生。听到他的名字,我无法控制自己的感情,这些被我丈夫看到了。‘就是他,对吗?’他狞笑着问我,‘哈特里特先生的事我们走着瞧。你和他都会后悔一辈子的。’玛丽安,他抓住这件事一天又一天地折磨我。”

“噢,劳拉!”我搂住她。这都是我的错——是的,是我的错!我还记得我告诉沃尔特必须离开的时候,他脸上那惨淡绝望的表情。是我把两颗相爱的心拆开了。我这样做却成全了珀西瓦尔爵士。

成全了珀西瓦尔爵士。

*  *  *

天黑了下来,我们开始往回走。劳拉突然抓住我的胳膊,“玛丽安,你看!”

湖边有一个黑影,傍晚水面上升起的雾气遮住了我们的视线。我们开始加快脚步。

“我敢肯定有人跟踪我们,”劳拉低声说,“是男的还是女的?”她害怕得浑身发抖。

“在这样的光线里看不清,”我回答,然后大声喊道,“谁在那儿?”没有反应。

我们很快地穿过树林,回到家里。我把劳拉送上楼,然后就去查看家里的其他人都在哪儿。伯爵夫妇,仆人,管家——所有的人都在。湖边那个人影不是家里的人,那会是谁呢?

第二天,劳拉发现手镯丢了,她认为一定是丢在湖边了。她出去找手镯,我留在家里等克尔先生的信使。

1点到了。现在,我对家里的每个人都有怀疑,所以决定溜出去自己迎接信使。我尽量不让别人看见,独自来到大门口,又朝前走了一段。不一会儿,一辆马车过来了。我拦住车,问:“是去布莱克沃特庄园吗?”

一个男人探出头说:“是的,给哈尔库姆小姐送信。”

“把信给我吧,”我说,“我就是哈尔库姆小姐。”

我迫不及待地读了来信。

亲爱的哈尔库姆小姐,你的来信令我深感不安。情况很可能是只要有格莱德夫人的签字,珀西瓦尔爵士就可以借走她的20,000英镑或其中一部分,几乎可以肯定这是不合法的。任何我没有仔细看过的文件,格莱德夫人都不要签字。

此致,威廉·克尔

我满怀感激地读完信,告诉信使我明白了信的意思。正说着,福斯科伯爵突然从拐角那边走了出来,出现在我的面前。我没有任何思想准备,两眼盯着他,一句话也说不出来。信使赶车离开了,伯爵挽着我的手臂往回走。

路上,他兴致勃勃地说这说那,没有问任何关于信和信使的事,我想他已经什么都知道了。他肯定偷看了我的信,然后又放回到邮袋里,现在也知道我收到了回信。没有必要再瞒他什么,所以我什么话也不说,尽量表现得镇定。

回到庄园,我们发现珀西瓦尔爵士已经回来了,看上去情绪更加糟糕。我告诉他劳拉出去找手镯了,他生气地咕哝道:

“什么手镯不手镯的,我半小时后必须在书房见她。”

我转身朝屋里走,但听见身后伯爵对珀西瓦尔说:“我可以跟你在草坪上谈5分钟吗?”

他们俩一起走开了,我走进客厅,思考着刚发生的一切。不一会儿,门轻轻地开了,福斯科伯爵出现在门口。

“好消息,哈尔库姆小姐,”他说,“签字的事推迟了,我想你一定放心了吧。”

我还没来得及从惊讶中回过神来,他就出去了。毫无疑问,是他施加了影响才有现在的变化。他发现我给伦敦写信并且收到了回信,于是他开始干预。还有很多事需要考虑,但我实在累极了,再加上天热,我睁不开眼睛,就这么睡着了。

醒来后,我发现劳拉的一只手搭在我的肩上。

“玛丽安!湖边那个人影。我刚跟她谈过了!她是安妮·凯瑟里克。瞧,她找到了我的手镯。”

我还在半梦半醒之间,迷迷糊糊地看着她问:“安妮·凯瑟里克?”

“是的!我正在船屋里找手镯,”劳拉接着说,“一个穿白衣服的女人进来,轻声说:‘费尔利小姐,你的手镯在我这儿。你的母亲一定不希望你把它弄丢了。’我一下子跳了起来,但她的声音非常友善,我很快就不害怕了。我问她怎么认识我母亲。她告诉我她叫安妮·凯瑟里克,问我记不记得小时候有一天同她还有母亲一道去利默里奇的学校。我确实记得。我突然发现我们俩长得很相像,只是她的脸看上去苍白、消瘦、疲惫。我久病之后可能就是那个样子。‘你为什么叫我费尔利小姐?’我问她。她回答说:‘因为我喜欢费尔利这个姓,憎恨格莱德这个姓。’”

“她提到你丈夫了吗?”我问。

“她说她写完那封信以后,没有勇气再呆在利默里奇阻止我和他结婚。她害怕他找到她,再把她关进精神病院。但是现在她不怕了,因为她现在病得很厉害,就要死了。然后,玛丽安,她说她和她母亲知道一个令我丈夫非常害怕的秘密。”

“什么秘密?快说啊!”我急切地问,“什么秘密?”

“她刚要告诉我,就听见外面有响动。‘有人,’她说,‘有人在盯着我们。明天这个时间到这儿来,我再告诉你。’说完,她就推开我走了。”

“噢,劳拉,劳拉,又一个机会跑掉了!你明天一定要去,那个秘密一定非常重要。我跟你去,躲在远处不让她看见。这次可不能叫她再跑了。”

我们沉默了一会儿。然后,劳拉不安地问:“珀西瓦尔爵士怎么还没来叫我们去书房签字呢?”

“对了,我刚才忘了告诉你,”我说,“多亏了福斯科伯爵,签字的事推迟了。”

“为什么?”劳拉惊疑地问,“珀西瓦尔爵士那么急需钱,怎么会推迟呢?”

“我听珀西瓦尔爵士的律师提过另一个计划,要做一份保证三个月后还钱的文件。”

“噢,玛丽安!”她说,“那可太好了。”

“是很好,但愿这是真的。”

那天晚上,珀西瓦尔爵士对大家,尤其对劳拉,非常有礼貌,甚至可以说是非常好。这一定是伯爵的功劳,我对此很担心。这背后到底隐藏着什么?我想珀西瓦尔爵士昨天突然离开,肯定是去韦明翰找凯瑟里克太太了。他得到什么消息没有?他下一步想干什么?一个晚上,我越来越放心不下。睡觉时我对明天将要发生的事情异常担心。

*  *  *

我的担心没有错。第二天,劳拉和我商量好,午饭后她先一个人到船屋去,过一会儿我再去,尽量不让安妮·凯瑟里克看见我,以免她被我这个陌生人吓跑。

上午,珀西瓦尔爵士比往常出去得更早,连午饭也没来吃,因此我们实施计划也更容易一些。然而,我蹑手蹑脚来到船屋后面的时候,却听不到一点儿动静。我进去寻找,轻声叫着劳拉的名字。可是没有人回答,也没有人影。我来到屋外,仔细察看地面,发现沙地上有两个人的脚印——大一些的像是男人的,小一些的我敢肯定是劳拉的。船屋墙边的沙地上还有一个小坑。

我担心极了,赶忙回到庄园。我见到的第一个人是管家米切尔森太太。

“你知道格莱德夫人回来了吗?”我问。

“是的,她回来了,哈尔库姆小姐。可能出了什么不幸的事。格莱德夫人哭着跑上了楼,珀西瓦尔爵士叫我把她的仆人范妮辞退了。”

我的心一下子沉了下来。范妮是劳拉从利默里奇带来的贴身仆人,也是我们两人在这里唯一信任的人。

我跑上楼,来到劳拉的房门口。房门紧闭,珀西瓦尔的一个仆人站在门口。

“让开,”我大声说,“你没看见我要进去吗?”

“你不能进去,”仆人说,“我得听主人的吩咐。”

我肺都要气炸了,转身下楼去找珀西瓦尔爵士。他和伯爵夫妇正在书房。

“你妻子的房间是监狱吗?”我眼睛直盯着他问道。

“是的,你应该明白这点。”他回答。

“请注意你是如何对待你妻子的!”我愤怒地嚷着。“妇女受法律的保护,我会告你的。”

珀西瓦尔爵士没有接我的话,而是转向了伯爵。伯爵用他那平静、冷漠的灰眼睛看着我。但开口的是伯爵夫人。

“谢谢你的热情款待,珀西瓦尔爵士,”她突然说道。“但是,今天你的妻子和哈尔库姆小姐在这里受到如此的对待,我是不能再呆下去了!”

珀西瓦尔爵士目瞪口呆地盯着伯爵夫人,他跟我一样心里明白,没有伯爵的准许,她是不会说这番话的。

“我同意我妻子的话。”伯爵不紧不慢地说。

珀西瓦尔骂了一句,然后气哼哼地低声说:“好吧,你们要怎样就怎样吧。”说完,他走了出去。

“我们让英国脾气最坏的人明白道理了,”伯爵说,“多亏你的勇气,哈尔库姆小姐,这个令人难堪的局面终于结束了。”

我试图以正常的方式讲话,可是却做不到。伯爵走出了书房,几分钟后回来说,格莱德夫人在她自己的家里重获自由了。我立刻冲上楼来到劳拉的房间。她一个人在里面,我进去得太急了,没有关好门。

“玛丽安!”劳拉感激地说,“你是怎么进来的?”

“当然是伯爵帮的忙。”我回答。

“那个可怕的人!”她大声说,“他是个可恶的奸细!”

就在这时,我听到有人敲门。来的是伯爵夫人,她给我送刚才落在楼下的手绢。她脸色苍白,看了她的眼神,我就明白她一直在门口偷听。

“哦,劳拉,”伯爵夫人走了以后,我对劳拉说,“你不应该管伯爵叫奸细,我们都会后悔的。”

“他真的是奸细,玛丽安!昨天在湖边有人跟踪我,那人就是他。是他告诉珀西瓦尔的,珀西瓦尔整个上午都在等我和安妮·凯瑟里克。凯瑟里克没来,我在沙地小坑里找到一张纸条,上面说一个胖老头昨天跟踪她。那人没有抓住她,但是她今天下午不敢来了。她一大早就来藏了纸条,还说她会很快再来见我,告诉我珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。”

“那张纸条呢?”我问,“在你手里吗?”

“没有。我正在看的时候,珀西瓦尔爵士出现在我面前。他把纸条夺过去,要我告诉他安妮·凯瑟里克说了什么。他那么用力地抓我的手臂!——看,都青了。我能怎么办,玛丽安?我一点儿办法也没有,只好都告诉他了。”

我看着劳拉手臂上的伤,心里恨透了珀西瓦尔爵士却敢怒不敢言。

“可他还不相信我,”劳拉继续说道,“他说他知道凯瑟里克还告诉了我很多事,我不说实话,他就把我锁起来。然后他把我带回庄园,下令辞退范妮,还把我锁在房间里。噢,玛丽安,他简直像个疯子!我们该怎么办呢?”

“他是疯了——因为他害怕。他认为你知道了他的秘密,”我说,“我必须采取行动保护你——谁知道我还可以在这儿呆多久呢?”我冥思苦想了几分钟,“我要写两封信让范妮带走。我再也不能相信那个邮袋了。一封给克尔先生,告诉他你的伤和珀西瓦尔爵士的粗暴行为。”

“那另外一封呢?”劳拉迫不及待地问。

“给费尔利先生,”我回答,“你那懒惰、自私的叔叔。我要让他请你回一次利默里奇,不带你丈夫。”

离开劳拉,我回到自己的房间,开始写信。范妮已经离开了庄园,今晚住在村里的旅店,明天动身长途旅行去坎伯兰郡。我想我晚饭前有时间到旅店,然后再回来。所以,我悄悄地溜出庄园,朝村子走去。

我不时回头张望,看是否有人跟踪。或许是我的想象在作怪?现在,我开始怀疑一切——任何小的声响,路上的影子,一切风吹草动。刚才写信的时候,我觉得门外有丝绸衣服的响动。我甚至怀疑是否有人来我房间偷看过我桌子里的东西。我加快了脚步,尽量不去想这些。

来到小旅店,我在范妮的房间见到了她。离开劳拉让她难过得哭了起来。但是,当我告诉她格莱德夫人和我需要她的帮助时,她不哭了。

“这儿有两封信,”我说,“一封你明天到伦敦后寄给克尔先生,另一封你到利默里奇后亲手交给费尔利先生。一定把信收好。”

范妮把信塞到衣服里。“我把信放在这儿,小姐,”她说,“我会照你的吩咐去做。”

7
A conversation in the night

I arrived back at the house with only twenty minutes to get ready for dinner — and to slip into Laura's room to say that the letters were safely in Fanny's hands.

Laura looked pale. 'I'm not coming down to dinner,' she said. 'Sir Percival came to my door, shouting at me to tell him where Anne Catherick is.'

'At least that means he hasn't found her yet,' I said.

At dinner the Count looked hot and red in the face, and his clothes were a little untidy. Had he been out too, I wondered? He seemed troubled by some secret annoyance or anxiety, and was almost as silent as Sir Percival. At the end of the meal, when Madame Fosco and I left the table, the Count stood up too.

'Where are you going, Fosco?' Sir Percival said. 'Sit down and have another glass of wine. I want a quiet talk with you.'

'Not now, Percival. Later,' he answered.

Earlier in the day I had heard Sir Percival make the same request, and this was the second time the Count had postponed the talk. Why, I wondered? And what was it that Sir Percival wanted to discuss so urgently?

We went into the living room and Madame Fosco, usually so slow and deliberate in her movements, drank her tea at great speed and then slipped quietly out of the room. I began to leave too, but the Count stopped me, first by a request for more tea, then by asking my opinion on some music, and then by playing several noisy Italian songs on the piano. Eventually, I escaped from him and went up to Laura's room. Had she seen or heard anything of Madame Fosco, I asked? No, she had not. We talked together till ten o'clock, and then I went downstairs again to say goodnight. Sir Percival, the Count and his wife were sitting together in the living room. I noticed that Madame Fosco's face was now hot and red. Where had she been, and what had she been doing? As I looked at her, she gave a little smile, as though at some private joke.

I said goodnight to everybody, and as I left the room, I heard Sir Percival say impatiently to the Count, 'Come outside and have a smoke, Fosco.'

'With pleasure, Percival, when all the ladies have gone to bed,' replied the Count.

Up in my room, I could not stop myself thinking about this private discussion between Sir Percival and the Count, postponed all day and now, it seemed, about to take place in the silence and loneliness of the night. After a while, I went from my bedroom into my sitting room, and closed the door between the rooms. It was dark, as no candles were lit, and I looked out of the open window for some time, down into the blackness of the garden. There was a smell like rain in the still, heavy air.

Suddenly I saw two red points of light advancing in the dark and stopping below my bedroom window, inside which a candle was burning. One red point was small, the other was big. The Count smoking a cigarette, and Sir Percival smoking a cigar, I think. They could not see me in the darkness of my sitting room, so I waited to hear what they said.

'Why don't you come in and sit down?' Sir Percival said.

'Wait till we see that light go out,' replied the Count. 'When I know she's in bed, and I have checked the rooms on each side of the library, then we will talk.'

Such secrecy! I decided I must listen to this conversation, in spite of the Count's efforts to keep it private. The idea terrified me, but Laura's happiness — perhaps even her life — might depend on what I heard. How could I do it? I realized I could get out on to the flat verandah roof which ran past the bedrooms, about three feet below the windows. It was narrow, but there was room to move along it till I was above the library window. The Count and Sir Percival usually sat near the open window, smoking, and if they did, I would be able to hear them from above.

I went back to my bedroom, put on a long dark cloak with a hood, and put out the candle. Then, after a while, I returned to my sitting room and climbed out of the window on to the verandah roof. My heart began to beat very fast. I had to pass five windows — four were dark, but the fifth window was the Countess's room, and it looked out over the exact place above the library where I planned to sit. And there was still a light in it. I crept along the roof, then went down on my hands and knees to pass her window. As I passed, I looked up — and saw her shadow against the thin curtains at the window...

I stop breathing. Has she heard me? Will she look out? No, the shadow moves away, she's gone. Now I move to my position at the edge of the roof and begin to listen. Are they there, or have they gone elsewhere for their talk? Ah, I can hear the Count's voice.

'Miss Halcombe's light is out, the rooms next door are empty, the only window with a light in is my wife's — so now we may talk. We are at a serious crisis in our affairs, Percival, and we must decide about the future tonight.'

'It's a worse crisis than you think,' growls Sir Percival.

'Listen, Percival. This is our situation. We both came to this house in need of money and the only way of getting it was with the help of your wife. Now what did I tell you? I told you never to lose your temper with her, and especially never with her sister, Miss Halcombe. And have you remembered this? Not once. Your mad temper lost your wife's signature, lost the ready money, made Miss Halcombe write to the lawyer for the first time —'

'First time! Has she written again?'

'Yes, she has written again today.'

What! How does he know that? Did he follow me to the hotel? But even if he did, he couldn't have seen the letters — they went straight from my hand to Fanny's dress. So how does he know?

'You're lucky,' the Count continues, 'that you have me in the house to undo the harm that you do. Lucky that I said no when you were mad enough to make your wife a prisoner and keep her from Miss Halcombe. Can't you see that Miss Halcombe has the courage and understanding of a man? How I admire that woman! But she stands like a rock between us and that pretty little wife of yours. Now, the money. We have obtained a loan — a horribly expensive loan — by signing a document promising to repay it in three months. When the time comes, is there really no way to repay the money except by the help of your wife?'

'None.'

'What money do you actually get from your wife at present?'

'Only the income from her twenty thousand pounds.'

'Do you expect any more from your wife?'

'Absolutely nothing — except in the case of her death.'

'Aha! In the case of her death.'

A pause. It has begun to rain, and already I feel wet and cold.

Sir Percival again. 'If she leaves no children, I get her twenty thousand pounds.'

'Percival! Do you care about your wife?'

'Fosco! That's a very direct question.'

'Let's say your wife dies before the end of the summer — '

'Forget it, Fosco!'

'You would gain twenty thousand pounds.'

'Speak for yourself as well as for me, Fosco. You would also gain — my wife's death would be ten thousand pounds in your wife's pocket.'

'Percival, here is the position. If your wife lives, you pay that debt with her signature on the document. If your wife dies, you pay the debt with her death.'

The light in Madame Fosco's room goes out, and the verandah roof is now sunk in darkness. The rain continues. I Listen with every nerve in my body, memorizing word after word.

'Percival, you must now leave this matter in my hands. I have more than two months to find the solution, so let's not talk about it any more. Let me help you with your other difficulty — the difficulty that seems to have the name of Anne Catherick.'

'Look, Fosco, we may be friends, but we still have our secrets. This does not concern you. Please don't ask me about it.'

'My friend, I can respect a secret. So I won't ask you to tell me. But can I help you all the same?'

'If I don't find Anne Catherick, I'm a lost man. Both she and her mother know this — this secret. It could ruin me, Fosco. Anne Catherick has spoken to my wife and I'm sure she's told her.'

'But as your wife, surely it's in her interest to keep it a secret?'

'If she loved me, that would be true. But she's in love with someone she met before we married, a drawing teacher called Walter Hartright. And who helped Anne Catherick escape from the asylum? Hartright. Who saw her again in Cumberland? Hartright. He knows the secret, and my wife knows the secret. If they get together, they will use it against me.'

'Yes, yes, I see. Where is Mr Hartright?'

'Out of the country. He sailed for America.'

'Don't worry, then. I will deal with him if he ever comes back. Depend on it. But first we must find Anne Catherick. What about her mother? Can she be trusted?'

'It's in her interest not to tell anyone the secret.'

'Good. Now, how will I recognize Anne Catherick?'

'Easily. She's the pale, sickly likeness of my wife.'

A noise as a chair is pushed back. The Count has jumped to his feet and is walking about. He seems amazed.

'What!!! Are she and your wife related to each other?'

'Not at all.'

'And yet so alike? Well, I will know her when I see her.'

'What the devil are you laughing about, Fosco?'

'Just a thought, my good friend, just a thought. But enough for tonight. You will pay the debt and find Anne Catherick. I promise you. You can put your mind at rest, Percival.'

Not another word is spoken. I hear the library door close. I am wet to the skin, stiff and aching with the cold. At first I can't move, but slowly, painfully, I creep back to my window and climb in. As I fall on the floor, I hear the clock strike a quarter past one. Time passes. Somehow I manage to get up and put on dry clothes. I am burning hot — and shivering with cold. I know I must write down what I have heard, so I find paper and pen and write without stopping. The fever rises in me, burning, burning. I open the window for cool air...

Eight o'clock. Bright sunshine, which hammers at my eyes. My head aches, my bones ache, my skin burns, yet I cannot stop shivering. I lie down to sleep, my writing finished, and in my fever I see Count Fosco come into my room and read the pages I have written. He smiles. I am helpless — unable to move, speak, breathe... and I sink into the long, black night of illness...


untidy adj. not neat or orderly 不整齐的

deliberate adj. leisurely, unhurried 不慌不忙的

impatiently adv. lacking patience or tolerance 不耐烦地;着急地

go out put out 吹灭;熄灭

verandah n. an open area with a floor and a roof that is built on the side of a house on the ground floor 游廊

crisis n. time of danger or difficulty 危机

understanding n. the ability to understand or think 见识

memorize v. commit to memory 记住

in her interest as something that is advantageous to her 对她有利

hammer at inflict pain at 使疼痛

7.深夜密谈

我回到庄园时,只剩20分钟就要吃晚餐了——我还得溜进劳拉的房间,告诉她信已经安全地交给范妮了。

劳拉脸色苍白。“我不下楼吃晚饭了,”她说,“珀西瓦尔爵士刚来过,站在门口朝我大喊,要我告诉他安妮·凯瑟里克在哪儿。”

“这起码说明他还没找到她。”我说。

吃晚饭的时候,福斯科伯爵满脸通红,衣服也有些不整。他也出去了吗,我心里疑惑。他似乎有什么秘密的困扰,几乎和珀西瓦尔爵士一样一言不发。吃罢饭,伯爵夫人和我往外走的时候,伯爵也站起身。

“你去哪里,福斯科?”珀西瓦尔爵士问道,“坐下再喝一杯。我要同你单独谈一谈。”

“现在不行,珀西瓦尔。以后吧。”伯爵回答。

白天的时候我也听到珀西瓦尔爵士提出同样的要求,这是一天之内伯爵第二次推迟和珀西瓦尔谈话了。为什么呢?我不明白。珀西瓦尔爵士这么着急要和伯爵谈什么呢?

我们走进客厅,平常总是慢条斯理的伯爵夫人迅速地喝完茶,不声不响地走了出去。我也朝外面走,但是伯爵叫住了我。他先是要我帮他添茶,然后又问我对某些音乐的看法,还在钢琴上弹了几首闹哄哄的意大利曲子。最后,我才得以离开他,来到劳拉的房间。我问她有没有看见伯爵夫人或是听见她的动静?她说没有。我们俩一直聊到10点,我下楼跟大家道晚安。珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵夫妇都在客厅坐着。我注意到伯爵夫人的脸通红。她刚才去哪儿了,干什么去了?看到我在打量她,伯爵夫人笑了笑,好像我们两个私下开过什么玩笑似的。

我同大家道了晚安。离开客厅的时候,我听见珀西瓦尔爵士不耐烦地对伯爵说:“到外面来抽支烟,福斯科。”

“好的,珀西瓦尔。等女士们都去睡了以后。”伯爵说。

回到楼上的房间,我还在想珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵的密谈,拖了一天,到现在终于要在寂静的夜晚进行了。过了一会儿,我从卧室来到我的客厅,把房门关好。房间漆黑一片,没有点蜡烛。我透过窗子向外望了一会儿,外面的花园一片黑暗,宁静、潮湿的空气中有一种雨的味道。

突然,我看到黑暗中有两个红色的亮点在移动,然后在我卧室的窗下停住了,我卧室里点着一支蜡烛。一个亮点小,另一个大些。我想肯定是伯爵在抽烟卷,珀西瓦尔爵士在抽雪茄。我的客厅是黑的,他们看不见我。因此,我在客厅等着听他们说什么。

“为什么不进屋,坐下来谈?”珀西瓦尔爵士说。

“等到那蜡烛灭了再说,”伯爵说,“等她睡了,我再查看一下书房两边的房间,然后我们再谈。”

那么机密!不管伯爵怎样保密,我一定要听听这场谈话。这个想法使我很害怕,但是劳拉的幸福——甚或她的生命——可能都跟我听到的内容有关。我怎么去偷听呢?我想到可以从游廊的平顶上过去,平顶连着好几间卧室,比窗户大约低3英尺。顶子很窄,但还是可以过去,到达书房窗户的上面。伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士经常坐在敞开的窗子旁抽烟,如果是这样的话,我就可以从上面偷听他们的谈话了。

我回到卧室,穿上一件长长的带有兜帽的黑色斗篷,吹灭了蜡烛。呆了一会儿,我回到客厅,爬出窗户来到游廊的平顶上。我的心跳开始加速。我必须爬过五个窗子,其中四个已经没有了亮光,可第五个是伯爵夫人的房间,那儿恰好在书房上面,正是我要偷听的地方。而且,伯爵夫人的房间里还亮着烛光。我沿着平顶往前移动,然后手脚并用地爬过她的窗子。经过她窗下时,我抬头看了看——透过薄薄的窗帘看见她在窗前的身影……

我屏住呼吸。她是不是听见我在这儿了?她会向外看吗?没有,影子移开了,她走了。我来到平顶的边上,找好了偷听的位置。他们在这儿吗?会不会到别的地方去谈?啊,我听见伯爵的声音了。

“哈尔库姆小姐房间的蜡烛灭了,这两边的房间没人,唯一有亮光的窗户是我妻子的房间——好了,我们现在可以谈了。珀西瓦尔,我们的事现在出现了严重危机,今晚我们必须计划一下该怎么办。”

“事情比你想的还要糟。”珀西瓦尔爵士嘀咕着。

“听着,珀西瓦尔。这就是我们两人的处境。我们都是为了钱才到这个庄园来的,而得到钱的唯一途径是通过你的妻子。我跟你说过什么?我告诉你千万不要跟你妻子发脾气,尤其不能和她姐姐哈尔库姆小姐发脾气。可是你记住了吗?根本没有。你的坏脾气让我们失去了你妻子的签字,到手的钱没了,还让哈尔库姆小姐给律师写了第一封信——”

“第一封信?她又写信了吗?”

“是的,她今天又写信了。”

什么!他是怎么知道的?他是不是跟踪我去了旅店?但是就算他去了,也不会看到那两封信的——信是直接从我手里到了范妮的衣服里的。那他是怎么知道的呢?

“你很走运,”伯爵接着说,“有我在这儿帮你解决麻烦。你很走运,在你发疯一样把你的妻子当犯人关起来,不让她见哈尔库姆小姐的时候,我出来阻拦了你。你看不出来吗?哈尔库姆小姐具有男人一样的勇气和见识,我非常敬佩她!但是,她就像挡在我们和你那漂亮小妻子之间的一块巨石。现在说钱的问题。我们得到了一笔贷款——一笔代价极大的贷款——我们签了字,答应三个月后还钱。到时候,除了靠你妻子就没有任何办法还钱了吗?”

“没有。”

“你现在从你妻子那儿可以得到什么钱?”

“只有她那20,000英镑带来的收入。”

“你还能从你妻子身上得到更多的钱吗?”

“一分都没有——除非她死了”

“呵!除非她死了。”

谈话暂停了。天开始下雨,我感到身上又湿又冷。

珀西瓦尔爵士接着说:“如果她没留下孩子,我可以得到她那20,000英镑。”

“珀西瓦尔!你真的在乎你妻子吗?”

“福斯科!这个问题太直接了。”

“假如你妻子在夏末死去——”

“别说了,福斯科!”

“你会得到20,000英镑。”

“别光说我,还有你,福斯科。你也会受益,妻子死了,妻子口袋里就会装进10,000英镑。”

“珀西瓦尔,这就是现在的局面。如果你妻子活着,你需要得到她签字来还债;如果你妻子死了,你就用她的死来还债。”

福斯科夫人房间的烛光熄灭了,游廊顶上一团漆黑。雨还在下。我全神贯注地听着,把每个字都记在心里。

“珀西瓦尔,你现在必须把这件事交给我来办,我有两个多月的时间去想办法,现在咱们先不谈这个。让我来帮你解决另一个麻烦——那个好像和安妮·凯瑟里克这个名字有关的麻烦。”

“瞧,福斯科,我们或许是朋友,但我们都有各自的秘密。这件事与你无关。请你不要问我这件事。”

“我的朋友,我可以尊重你的秘密。我不问你的秘密是什么,但不管怎么说,我能帮你点儿什么吗?”

“假如找不到安妮·凯瑟里克,我就完了。她和她母亲都知道那个——那个秘密。那个秘密会毁了我,福斯科。安妮·凯瑟里克找过我妻子,我敢肯定她已经把秘密告诉我妻子了。”

“可是,作为你的妻子,保守这个秘密不也对她有好处吗?”

“如果她爱我,应该是这样的。但是,她爱上了一个她在我们结婚以前认识的人,一个叫沃尔特·哈特里特的绘画教师。是谁帮助安妮·凯瑟里克从精神病院逃走的?是哈特里特。又是谁在坎伯兰郡跟她见面?还是哈特里特。他知道这个秘密,我妻子也知道这个秘密。要是他们两个聚到一块儿,肯定利用这个秘密来对付我。”

“说的对,说的对,我明白了。哈特里特先生现在在哪儿?”

“在国外。他去美洲了。”

“那就不用担心了。他要是回来,我来对付他。你放心。不过我们还是要先找到安妮·凯瑟里克。她母亲呢?可信吗?”

“保守这个秘密对她有好处。”

“很好。不过我怎么才能认出安妮·凯瑟里克来?”

“这容易。她长得很像我妻子,只是脸色苍白,面容憔悴。”

我听见向后移动椅子的声响。伯爵站了起来,在屋里来回走动着,他显得非常惊讶。

alt

“什么!她跟你妻子有亲戚关系吗?”

“一点儿没有。”

“那就这么相像?我见到她会认出来的。”

“你到底在笑什么,福斯科?”

“只是一个想法,我的好朋友,一个想法而己。不过今晚就谈到这儿。你会还清债务,找到安妮·凯瑟里克的。我敢保证。你就放心吧,珀西瓦尔。”

谈话结束了。我听到书房的门关上了。我身上已经湿透,身体被冻得又僵又疼。起初整个人都动不了。我艰难地慢慢爬回我的窗边,爬进屋里。我跳到地板上时,听见钟响了,1点一刻。时间过得真快。我挣扎着起来,换上干衣服。我浑身发烫——同时也冷得打哆嗦。我明白我必须把听到的全都写下来,于是找出纸笔,开始不停地写起来。我烧得越来越厉害,浑身好像着了火。我打开窗户,让冷空气进来……

8点了。明媚的阳光使我的眼睛隐隐作痛。我头痛得非常厉害,全身酸痛,而且发烫,还不停地打哆嗦。我躺下睡觉,记录已经写完了。迷迷糊糊地,我看见福斯科伯爵进到我的房间,看了我写的东西。他笑了笑。我毫无办法——不能动,不能说话,不能呼吸……我陷入长长的昏迷,眼前一片黑暗……

8
Fever

While I lay unconscious in my illness, I knew nothing, of course, of the events happening around me. It was only much later that I learnt from other people what had happened.

When I eventually returned to Limmeridge, Fanny told me about the letters and the night she had left Blackwater.

'You left me at about seven, miss, and at nine o'clock I had another visitor — the Countess! Yes, I was so surprised. But she was very kind. She saw that I was upset at leaving and insisted on having some tea with me. So I drank my tea, and five minutes later I fainted — for the first time in my life! When I woke up, it was about half an hour later. A lady from the hotel was looking after me as the Countess had had to go home. I checked the letters in my dress, miss, and they were both there, quite safe.

'And just as you told me, in London I posted the letter to Mr Kyrle, and as soon as I got to Limmeridge, I delivered the other letter personally to Mr Fairlie. I told him all about being dismissed by Sir Percival and everything, and what had happened at the hotel, but, well, he didn't seem very interested, miss.'

That last piece of information did not surprise me in the least. Had Laura's uncle ever been interested in anybody except himself? When I went to talk to him, he was full of excuses.

'My nerves, dear Marian, remember my nerves! Yes, of course I will tell you about the letters, but please don't get excited and go around banging doors! Try to stay calm.'

'I suppose my letter about Laura upset you,' I said.

'Of course it did, dear Marian! What was I to do? You told me Laura needed to escape from her husband and to come to Limmeridge. But suppose Sir Percival had come after her? Think of the noise, the arguments, the banging of doors! That's why I wrote to you, to beg you to come here first by yourself, to talk the matter over with me.'

I never saw that letter, of course, as it arrived at Blackwater when I was unconscious with fever.

'And Mr Kyrle wrote to you as well, didn't he?' I said.

'Yes. He wrote to say he had received an envelope addressed to him in your handwriting, but which contained only a plain piece of paper without a word on it. He had written to you about it, and had received no reply. Why he expected me to explain this mystery, I had no idea. And that's what I told him.'

So helpful, I thought bitterly. But there was no point in saying anything. 'And were you surprised not to hear from me again?'

'Indeed I was, until my sister's foreign husband, that extraordinary Count Fosco, came to see me. Such a huge man!' said Mr Fairlie, his eyes closing at the memory. 'But surprisingly quiet on his feet. Anyway, he explained how ill you were, dear Marian, which was why you hadn't replied to my letter. I was extremely shocked and sorry to hear about your illness. But the Count did talk so much — I thought he would never leave!'

'And he persuaded you to write to Laura,' I said, trying to keep my voice calm and quiet.

'Yes, he urged me — in fact, practically ordered me — to invite Laura here at once. She was too nervous and upset to be of any use to you in the sick-room, he said, and the situation with Sir Percival was growing more dangerous every day. There was no trouble with the journey, because he and his wife had just rented a house in London. So Laura could travel up to London, stay the night with them, and travel on to Cumberland the next day.'

'So you wrote the letter and gave it to him,' I said.

'Where was the harm in it? In any case, I never for a moment thought that Laura would leave you alone when you were so ill. And how was I to know what shocking event was about to take place? No one could possibly say that I was to blame …'

*  *  *

I know now exactly who was to blame, but it took quite a time to put all the different pieces of information together. When I first began to be aware of my surroundings again during my recovery, I knew nothing, of course, about the letters. I knew only that I was not in my usual bedroom and there was a foreign lady looking after me. I had no idea who she was and she would not answer any of my questions. So I was very relieved a few days later when the familiar face of Mrs Michelson appeared.

'Oh, Mrs Michelson,' I said, 'I'm so glad to see you. Please tell me what's been happening.'

'You've had typhus fever, Miss Halcombe. You've been very ill. But you're getting stronger now, I'm happy to say.'

'Typhus! No wonder I feel so weak. And my sister, Lady Glyde — I do hope she didn't catch the infection?'

'No, no, she didn't.'

Mrs Michelson would not look me in the face, and I began to feel worried. Was she afraid to tell me something?

'Is my sister ill? Please, Mrs Michelson, I must know!'

'No, she's not ill. But... but she's not here. She went away yesterday to London, and is going on to Limmeridge today.'

I stared at her. Laura gone? I could not believe it. What did it mean? Had something terrible happened? I remembered the conversation I heard during the night on the verandah roof, and my heart filled with fear.

'And Sir Percival …?' I could not finish my question.

'Sir Percival left the house last night, to go abroad,' she said. 'The Count and Countess have gone to London, and the servants have all been dismissed, except for a cook and the gardener. You and I are the only people living in the house, Miss Halcombe.'

The shock of this news was so great that I felt faint. Mrs Michelson hurried to fetch me a glass of water.

'Oh, Miss Halcombe, I'm sorry,' she said. 'Try not to worry. You must rest now, and try to sleep a little.'

Later, when I felt stronger, we talked again. 'Tell me everything you can remember, from the day I fell ill,' I begged Mrs Michelson. 'I must know what happened.'

'Well, Miss Halcombe, on that first morning a servant found you, lying on your bed in a fever, holding a pen tightly in your hand. The doctor was called at once, a Mr Dawson, who said you were very ill. The Countess and I acted as your nurses — Lady Glyde wanted to help, but she was so upset at seeing you unconscious that she couldn't stop crying.

'Sir Percival and the Count were concerned about you too, though they seemed worried about something else as well. In fact, the Count spent three days down by the lake, at that old boat-house, and I remember he came in once when I was going through the hall. Sir Percival came rushing out of the library, saying, "Have you found her?" I didn't hear the answer and I have no idea who they were talking about.'

I had a very good idea who they were talking about, but it was obvious that Mrs Michelson didn't, so I said nothing.

'Your fever got worse,' Mrs Michelson went on. 'The Count said we needed a nurse to help us, so Madame Fosco took the train to London and came back with Mrs Rubelle.'

'Is that the foreign lady who was looking after me before you appeared, Mrs Michelson?' I asked.

'Yes, that's right. She didn't say very much, but she was a capable nurse. I had no complaints about her work. Mr Dawson, the doctor, was suspicious of her because she was recommended by the Count, and he didn't like the Count at all.'

'Why was that?' I asked.

'The Count had a lot of medical knowledge, you see, and he was always suggesting to Mr Dawson ways of reducing your fever. Mr Dawson called it interference and got quite angry about it. But in fact, miss, the Count recognized you had typhus fever before Mr Dawson did. He — the Count, that is — went away to London for a week, and when he came back, he took one look at you and said "Typhus". Mr Dawson sent to London for another doctor, who came and said the same thing. Then we had a very worrying ten days, when your life was in danger, but at last the doctor said you were through the worst and with good nursing care you would recover. Lady Glyde was so overcome by this happy news that she became ill herself and had to be put to bed.'

'My sister has always had delicate health,' I said.

'Yes, she's not strong. Anyway, Miss Halcombe, it was at this point that disturbing things started to happen. First, the Count and Mr Dawson argued again so fiercely that Mr Dawson left, saying he refused to offer his services any more. Next, Sir Percival told me that he was going to close the house. As soon as you and Lady Glyde were able to travel, he said, you would be going away for a change of air. He told me to dismiss all the servants, except a girl to do the cooking, and a gardener. Imagine! Just like that! I tell you, Miss Halcombe, if I hadn't felt so sorry for you and Lady Glyde, I would have resigned at once!

'The last thing was very strange indeed,' said Mrs Michelson, shaking her head. 'Sir Percival said that you and Lady Glyde would benefit from a stay at the seaside town of Torquay. He told me to go there to look for a suitable house to rent, and told me how much money I could pay. Well, I knew it wasn't enough, and I wish now that I hadn't gone, but he was my employer so I thought I had to obey his orders. I returned yesterday, after two days away, and told Sir Percival that it was impossible to find a house at such a low rent. Sir Percival showed no interest in my news at all. He just said that the Count and Countess had left Blackwater Park for their new house in London.'

Mrs Michelson looked at me anxiously. 'I think you'll find the next part of the story very upsetting,' she said. 'Poor Lady Glyde was cruelly deceived by her husband.'

'You don't surprise me,' I murmured. 'Please go on.'

'After seeing Sir Percival, I went upstairs to see you and Lady Glyde. Your sister, though still very weak, was feeling better and wanted to get up and go and visit you in your room. I helped her to dress and as we went down the passage, we met Sir Percival.

'"If you're going to see your sister, you won't find her," Sir Percival says. "She left the house yesterday with Fosco and his wife. She decided to go with them to London, on her way to Limmeridge. Mrs Rubelle went too, to look after her on the journey. You can look in her room if you don't believe me."

'I was shocked and amazed by this, and Lady Glyde's face went as white as a sheet. She almost ran down the passage and threw open the door to your room. It was empty.

'Then she cries out to Sir Percival, "Marian was much too ill to travel. Even if she did go, she would never leave without saying goodbye to me first. And why would she go to Limmeridge alone, leaving me here at Blackwater Park?"

'"Because your uncle won't receive you till he has seen your sister first," says Sir Percival. "Have you forgotten the letter he wrote to her at the beginning of her illness?"

'All through this interview, Miss Halcombe, I thought Sir Percival seemed very strange — jumpy and nervous, not at all his usual self. And now he just turned and walked away. Lady Glyde was shaking with fear, and looked at me with terror in her eyes. "Something's happened to my sister. I must follow her — I must see that she's alive and well with my own eyes. Please, Mrs Michelson, come down with me to Sir Percival. Stay with me, please!" She held my arm so tightly that I had to go with her.

'Sir Percival was in the dining room, drinking. He drank at least four glasses of wine while we were in there, Miss Halcombe. Lady Glyde was very brave, I thought. She said, "If my sister is well enough to travel, then so am I. Please allow me to follow her at once by the afternoon train."

'Sir Percival was so rude and rough with her. "You can go tomorrow," he said. "I'll write to Fosco. He can meet you at the station and you'll stay at his house overnight."

'Lady Glyde's hand began to tremble violently on my arm. "I would rather not stay at the Count's house," she said.

'Sir Percival then got very angry. "Why not?" he shouted." What's wrong with sleeping at your aunt's house? Your sister slept there last night to break her journey, and so will you. That's what your uncle, Mr Fairlie, wants you to do as well. Here — there's a letter from him. I forgot to send it up to you."

'Poor Lady Glyde was shaking so much that she gave me the letter to read to her. It was very short. I remember it, word for word: Dear Laura, please come whenever you like. Break the journey by sleeping at your aunt's house. Sorry to hear of Marian's illness. Your fond uncle, Frederick Fairlie.

'Lady Glyde didn't try to argue any more, and we went back upstairs. It seemed quite a sensible plan to me, Miss Halcombe, and I couldn't understand why Lady Glyde was so terrified of Count Fosco. She walked up and down her room, whispering, "Poor Marian — in that horrible man's power! I must find her, even if I have to follow her to Count Fosco's house."

'The next day I helped Lady Glyde get ready and went with her to the station. "If Marian has already left for Limmeridge, I won't stay at the Count's house," she told me. "I'll go and stay with Mrs Vesey, my old governess." As the train pulled away, I saw her pale, frightened face at the window. I felt so sad for her.

'Then I came back here. Imagine my surprise, Miss Halcombe, when I saw Mrs Rubelle walking in the garden! "What are you doing here?" I said. "You went to London with the Foscos and Miss Halcombe!" And then it all came out. You were still in the house. While I was out of the way in Torquay, they moved you to a room in an unused part of the house and kept you hidden. You must have been in a very deep sleep when they moved you. Perhaps they drugged you — I don't know. Then Sir Percival appeared and gave me this explanation. It was all for his wife's own good, he said. She needed a change of air, and would not have gone to Limmeridge if she had known that you were still in the house. He spoke in such a violent, angry way that I did not dare to express my opinion.

'So you see, Miss Halcombe, that was how poor Lady Glyde was deceived. It was wicked and cruel. I would have resigned my position immediately, but Sir Percival told me that Mrs Rubelle was leaving and there would be no one to look after you if I left too. So, naturally, I stayed. Sir Percival left last night, as I told you. The gardener said he seemed half mad. He called for his carriage, and drove away like an escaped criminal, saying his house was a prison and he would never return to it. I hope and pray, Miss Halcombe, that I never see that man again.'

Poor Laura — how she must have suffered! There was nothing I could do. I could not go after her as I was too weak even to stand. I hoped desperately that she had found out about the deception and would write soon to tell me that she was safe.

*  *  *

A letter came a few days later, but it was not for me, and not from Laura. It was for Mrs Michelson from Madame Fosco.

Mrs Michelson came into my room with the letter in her hand. Mr Dawson, who had agreed to be my doctor again now that the Count had gone, was behind her. I took one look at both their faces, and sat up in bed, terrified.

'What is it?' I gasped. 'You have some dreadful news for me. I can see it in your faces.'

Mrs Michelson sat down on the edge of the bed and took my hand. 'Your poor, dear sister, Lady Glyde...' she began.

The room began to darken around me, as though night was falling, and the words seemed to come from a great distance.

'... was taken seriously ill when she arrived at her aunt's house in London, and died the next day, very suddenly. She is to be buried at Limmeridge, in her mother's grave.'

*  *  *

Kind Mrs Michelson nursed me through my second illness, with Mr Dawson's help. I was not able to travel for more than three weeks, but eventually I found the strength to leave that hated house and return to Limmeridge. Mrs Michelson and I travelled together to London, where I went to see Mr Kyrle. To him I revealed the terrible suspicions in my mind about the circumstances of my sister's death. He was most concerned and promised to make enquiries for me.

I went on to Limmeridge House and a few days later Mr Kyrle wrote to me there. He had taken statements from several witnesses, he said, and was convinced that nothing suspicious had happened. He sent copies of the statements for my information. This was the one by the Count's cook, Mrs Hester Pinhorn:


I was recently employed as a cook by the Count and Countess Fosco at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. One day near the end of July, the Countess's niece, Lady Glyde, arrived at the house. She immediately fell ill. I saw her lying on the sofa, her face all white. I ran out for a doctor and came back with Mr Goodricke. He examined her and said she had a very serious heart disease. During the night she got worse. Then, at about five o'clock the next day, she lost consciousness. The doctor went in and, after putting his hand on her heart, announced that she was dead. He said that, as the Count was a foreigner, he himself would go to record the death at the district office. The Count and Countess were very badly affected by the lady's death. The lady's husband was abroad, so they arranged the funeral themselves, which took place in Cumberland.


I was still very weak from my long illness, and despair nearly overtook me at this point. I had no friend to turn to, and no idea what to do next. I went every day to the churchyard, to put flowers on the grave and to read again those sad, sad words.


In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde

Wife of Sir Percival Glyde, of Blackwater Park, Hampshire

Born 27th March 1829

Died 25th July 1850


personally adv. in person 亲自

practically adv. almost 几乎

rent v. use at a rent

typhus n. a serious infectious disease 斑疹伤寒

catch the infection be affected by the infectious disease 被传染

be through have passed 度过

fiercely adv. violently 激烈地

obey v. carry out a command 服从

jumpy adj. making sudden movements 躁动的

pull away (of a train ) leave (火车)离开;开走

drug v. to give someone a drug, esp in order to make them feel tired or go to sleep 用药麻醉

for one's good for one's interest 为了……的利益;为了……好

be convinced be certain that something is true 确信

announce v. make publicly known 宣布

overtake v. overwhelm 击垮

8.高烧

我在床上昏睡着,对周围发生了什么当然一无所知。很长时间以后,我才从别人那里得知出了什么事。

后来,我回到利默里奇,范妮告诉我那两封信的事以及她离开布莱克沃特那天晚上发生的事情。

“你从我那儿走的时候是7点钟,9点钟又来了一位客人——是伯爵夫人!没错,我非常吃惊。但她特别和善。她看出我在为离开而难过,就坚持要和我喝茶。我喝了茶,5分钟后就晕过去了——这可是我头一回晕过去!我醒的时候已经过了大约半小时。旅店的一位女士在照看我,伯爵夫人已经回去了。我检查衣服里的信,两封信都在,很安全。

“我照你说的,在伦敦把给克尔先生的信寄了出去,一到利默里奇,就把另一封信亲自交给了费尔利先生。我告诉他,我被珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了,还有在那边发生了什么以及旅店的事情,但是他好像对这些都没什么兴趣,小姐。”

对最后一点,我丝毫不觉得奇怪。劳拉的这个叔叔,除了对他自己的事还对什么有兴趣?我去找他谈的时候,他满嘴借口。

“我的神经,亲爱的玛丽安,别忘了我的神经不好!是的,我当然会告诉你信的事,可是请你不要激动,不要总那么使劲儿关门!请你保持冷静。”

“我想我写给你关于劳拉的信让你担心了吧。”我说。

“当然让我担心了,亲爱的玛丽安!我该怎么做呢?你说劳拉需要逃离她丈夫,回到利默里奇来。但是,如果珀西瓦尔爵士随后过来找她怎么办?想想那会有多少噪音、吵闹、摔门声!这就是我为什么给你写信,叫你自己先回来,跟我谈谈这件事。”

我当然没见过那封信,因为信到布莱克沃特的时候,我正发着高烧,昏睡不醒。

“克尔先生也给你写信了,是吗?”我问。

“是的,他写信给我说,他收到一个署名给他的信封,是你的笔迹,但是里面只有一张白纸,一个字也没有。他给你写过信,但没收到回音。我不明白他为什么叫解释这个迷,我就这么跟他说的。”

真是挺帮忙的,我心里恨恨地想。现在说什么也没用了。“再没接到我的来信,你不感到奇怪吗?”

“我的确感到奇怪,直到我的那个外国妹夫,福斯科伯爵过来看我,我才明白发生了什么。他可真胖!”费尔利先生闭上眼睛,陷入回忆之中,“但是他走路却很轻。他告诉我你病得非常厉害,所以没有回信。听说你生病我非常震惊,也很难过。可是,伯爵没完没了地跟我说话——我简直觉得他不想走了!”

“是他让你给劳拉写信的吧。”我尽量用平和的语气说。

“是的,他请求我——实际上是命令我——让劳拉马上回到这儿来。他说劳拉非常紧张害怕,在你的房间里也帮不了什么忙。而且珀西瓦尔爵士一天比一天危险。旅途中不会有问题,因为他和妻子刚刚在伦敦租了一栋房子,劳拉可以先到伦敦,在他们那里住一晚,第二天再赶往坎伯兰郡。”

“所以,你就写了那封信,让他拿走了?”我问。

“这有什么不好吗?不管怎样,我根本不相信劳拉会在你病重的时候丢下你不管。而且我怎么知道将要发生什么事?谁也不能把事情怪到我头上……”

*  *  *

现在我知道究竟是谁在搞鬼了,但是把各种消息都串起来颇费了一些时间。我刚从昏迷中醒来,注意到周围的时候,对信的事自然一无所知。我只知道自己不在原来的卧室,一位外国女士在旁边照顾我。我不知道她是谁,她也不回答我的任何问题。因此,几天后当米切尔森太太熟悉的脸出现在我面前时,我大大地松了一口气。

“噢,米切尔森太太,”我说,“见到你真是太高兴了。快告诉我到底发生了什么?”

“你得了斑疹伤寒,哈尔库姆小姐。你病得很厉害。不过,我很高兴你现在恢复得很好。”

“斑疹伤寒!怪不得我这么虚弱。我妹妹,格莱德夫人——我希望她没被传染吧?”

“没有,她没有被传染。”

米切尔森太太不敢正眼看我,我开始担心起来,她是不是害怕告诉我什么事情?

“我妹妹病了吗?米切尔森太太,我必须知道真相!”

“没有,她没病。不过……不过她已经不在这儿了。她昨天去了伦敦,准备今天去利默里奇。”

我盯着她。劳拉走了?我不信。这说明什么呢?出了可怕的事?我记起了在游廊顶上听到的谈话,心里充满了恐惧。

“那珀西瓦尔爵士……?”我无法把话讲完。

“珀西瓦尔爵士昨晚离开庄园,到国外去了,”她说,“伯爵夫妇去了伦敦,仆人们全都遣散了,就剩下一个厨师和一个园丁。庄园里只有你和我了,哈尔库姆小姐。”

这个消息对我的震动太大,我感到一阵眩晕,米切尔森太太赶忙去为我拿了杯水来。

“哦,哈尔库姆小姐,真抱歉,”米切尔森太太说,“你别担心,一定要好好休息,试着睡一会儿吧。”

后来,我身上有些力气了,我们又聊起来。“告诉我,自从我生病那天起都发生了什么?”我恳求米切尔森太太,“我一定要知道出了什么事。”

“好吧,哈尔库姆小姐。头一天早上,一个仆人发现你躺在床上,发着高烧,手里还紧紧握着钢笔。我们很快叫来了一位医生,道森先生。他说你病得很厉害。伯爵夫人和我一起照顾你——格莱德夫人也想帮忙,但是看到你昏迷的样子,她很难过,不住地哭。

“珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵也都为你担心,不过他们两人好像还在为别的事担心。实际上,伯爵在湖边呆了三天,就在那个老船屋里。我记得他有一次回来,我正路过大厅。这时,珀西瓦尔爵士从书房冲出来问他:‘找到她了吗?’我没听到回答,也不知道他们说的是谁。”

我非常清楚他们说的是谁,明显米切尔森太太不知道,所以我没有说话。

“你烧得越来越厉害,”米切尔森太太接着说,“伯爵说我们需要找一个护士帮忙,于是福斯科夫人坐火车去了伦敦,带回了鲁贝尔太太。”

“就是那位在你来之前照顾我的外国女士吗,米切尔森太太?”

“对,就是她。她很少说话,但很能干。我对她干活儿挑不出任何毛病。道森先生,那位医生,对她有怀疑,因为她是伯爵推荐的,而道森先生一点儿也不喜欢伯爵。”

“为什么呢?”我问。

“你知道伯爵懂得许多医学知识,他不断地向道森先生提出给你退烧的办法。道森先生非常生气,说这是干涉他的工作。但实际上,小姐,伯爵比道森先生更早地看出你得了斑疹伤寒。他——我是说伯爵——到伦敦去了一星期,回来后看了你一眼就说是‘斑疹伤寒’。道森先生从伦敦又请来一位医生,也说是斑疹伤寒。接下来的十天我们大家都非常担心,你当时有生命危险。不过最后,医生说你已经度过了危险期,只要得到精心照顾,就会好起来。听到这个好消息,格莱德夫人过于高兴,结果她自己病倒了,不得不卧床休息。”

“我妹妹的身体一直很弱。”我说。

“是的,她的身体不太好。不过,哈尔库姆小姐,就在这个时候,令人心烦的事接二连三地发生了。先是伯爵和道森先生大吵了一架,道森先生走了,他说不愿意再干了。然后,珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我他准备关闭庄园。他说等你和格莱德夫人能出门旅行了,就应该离开这里,换换环境。他让我辞退了所有的仆人,只留下一个女仆做饭,还有一个园丁。真是难以想象!就是这样!我跟你说,哈尔库姆小姐,要不是担心你和格莱德夫人,我当时马上就不干了!

“最后一件事非常奇怪,”米切尔森太太摇摇头接着说,“珀西瓦尔爵士说,你和格莱德夫人到海滨小城托基呆一段时间会对你们有好处。他叫我去那里找一栋合适的房子租下来,还告诉我只能花多少钱。唉,我知道钱不够。我现在真希望没去那个地方,但他是东家,我想我不能不听他的吩咐。我走了两天,昨天回来的。我告诉珀西瓦尔爵士用那么少的钱根本不可能租到房子。他对我的回复一点儿也不感兴趣,只是说伯爵夫妇已经离开布莱克沃特,去伦敦的新居了。”

米切尔森太太不安地看着我。“我想下面的事情一定会让你难过,”她说,“可怜的格莱德夫人让她丈夫骗惨了。”

“我不会感到惊讶的,”我轻声说,“请接着讲。”

“见过了珀西瓦尔爵士,我上楼去看你和格莱德夫人。你妹妹虽说还很虚弱,但已经好多了。她要起来到你的房间看你。我帮她穿好衣服。在走廊里我们碰到了珀西瓦尔爵士。

“‘如果你是去看你的姐姐,你不会找到她了,’珀西瓦尔爵士说,‘她昨天同福斯科夫妇离开了这里。她决定跟他们顺路到伦敦,然后去利默里奇。鲁贝尔太太也走了,她要在路上照看你姐姐。你要是不信我的话,可以到她的房间看看。’

“听到这些,我大吃一惊。格莱德夫人的脸变得煞白。她几乎在走廊里跑起来,一把推开你的房门,里面空无一人。

“然后她冲着珀西瓦尔爵士叫起来:‘玛丽安病得那么厉害,根本不能旅行。即使要去的话,她也不会不跟我道别就走。为什么她要一个人去利默里奇,把我留在布莱克沃特?’

“‘因为你叔叔要先跟你姐姐见面,再见你,’珀西瓦尔爵士说,‘难道你忘了在你姐姐刚病的时候,他写来的信了吗?’

“整个谈话中,哈尔库姆小姐,我觉得珀西瓦尔爵士显得很怪——又烦躁,又紧张,跟平时的他一点儿也不一样。说完,他就转身走开了。格莱德夫人害怕得直哆嗦,她看着我,眼睛里充满了恐惧。‘我姐姐出事了。我必须去找她,我必须亲眼看到她平安无事。米切尔森太太,请和我一起去找珀西瓦尔爵士。请陪我去!’她紧紧地抓着我的胳膊,我只好跟她一起下楼。

“珀西瓦尔爵士在餐厅喝酒,我们在的那一会儿,他就至少喝了四杯,哈尔库姆小姐。我觉得格莱德夫人很勇敢。她说:‘如果姐姐可以旅行,那我也可以。请允许我乘下午的火车去追她。’

“珀西瓦尔爵士对她非常无理、粗暴。‘你可以明天去,’他说,‘我会给福斯科写信。他会到车站接你,你晚上就住他那里。’

“格莱德夫人扶着我胳膊的手开始抖得很厉害。‘我不想住在伯爵家。’她说。

“珀西瓦尔爵士发怒了。‘为什么?’他大声嚷道,‘在你姑妈家过夜有什么不好?你姐姐昨天途中就是在那里过夜的,你也一样。这也是你叔叔费尔利先生的要求。给——这是他的信,我忘了给你了。’

“可怜的格莱德夫人哆嗦得很厉害,她把信交给我,让我念给她听。信很短,我还一字不差地记着:亲爱的劳拉,请在方便的时候回来。途中在姑妈家过夜。听说玛丽安病了,我非常难过。爱你的叔叔,弗雷德里克·费尔利。

“格莱德夫人没有再继续争下去,我们两人回到楼上。我觉得这样做很明智,哈尔库姆小姐,我不明白格莱德夫人为什么那么害怕福斯科伯爵。她在房间里走来走去,轻声自言自语:‘可怜的玛丽安——落到那个可怕的人手里!我一定要找到她,哪怕是到福斯科伯爵家里也要找到她。’

“第二天,我帮格莱德夫人准备好一切,陪她来到车站。‘如果玛丽安已经回利默里奇了,我就不住在伯爵家,’她告诉我,‘我会去找维西夫人,我原来的家庭教师。”火车开的时候,透过车窗我看到她苍白、恐慌的脸。我很为她难过。

“然后我回到这儿,竟然看到鲁贝尔太太在花园散步,哈尔库姆小姐,你知道我有多么惊讶!‘怎么在这儿?’我问,‘你不是和福斯科伯爵一家还有哈尔库姆小姐去伦敦了嘛!’后来事情慢慢都清楚了。你还在庄园。趁我去托基的时候,他们把你搬到了庄园里一个没人住的房间藏起来了。他们搬动你的时候,你肯定在昏睡。也许他们给你吃了药——我不清楚。这时,珀西瓦尔爵士过来给了我如下的解释。他说这一切都是为了他妻子好,她需要换个环境,假如她知道你还在庄园,是不会去利默里奇的。他说话时怒气冲冲的,我没敢说什么。

“你看,哈尔库姆小姐,这就是可怜的格莱德夫人受骗的经过。多么恶毒、多么不近人情。我本来要马上辞职的,但是珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我,鲁贝尔太太要走了,要是我也走的话,就没人照顾你了。这不,我就又留了下来。珀西瓦尔爵士是昨晚离开的,我刚才告诉过你。听园丁说,他跟疯了似的。他吩咐准备马车,然后仿佛落荒而逃的囚犯般驾车走了,嘴里还说什么这个家像个监狱,他再也不想回来了。我真的希望,哈尔库姆小姐,我再也不会见到那个人了。”

可怜的劳拉——她肯定受了很多罪!我现在一点儿办法也没有,也无法去追她,我现在虚弱得站都站不起来。我真的希望劳拉能够发现这个骗局,尽快地给我写信,告诉我她平安无事。

*  *  *

几天后来了一封信,但不是给我的,也不是劳拉写来的,而是福斯科夫人写给米切尔森太太的。

米切尔森太太拿着那封信走进我的房间,后面跟着道森先生,他同意继续为我看病,因为伯爵已经走了。我看到他们两人的神色,从床上坐起来,心里很害怕。

“出了什么事?”我急切地问,“你们有可怕的消息要告诉我。我从你们的脸上能看出来。”

米切尔森太太在我的床边坐下,握住我的手。“你那可怜的、亲爱的妹妹,格莱德夫人……”她说。

我的周围变得一团漆黑,就像夜色降临一样,下面的话似乎是从很遥远的地方传来的。

“……她到伦敦的姑妈家以后就病倒了,第二天就死了,死得非常突然。她将被安葬在利默里奇,她母亲的墓地。”

*  *  *

我又病倒了,好心的米切尔森太太在道森先生的帮助下精心地照顾我。三个多星期的时间里,我都无法出门旅行。但我终于恢复了体力,离开了那个令人憎恨的庄园,回到利默里奇。米切尔森太太和我一同来到伦敦,我去见了克尔先生,向他讲述了我心中对妹妹死因的怀疑。他对这件事很关心,答应为我调查。

我到利默里奇几天后,克尔先生的信也寄到了那里。他从几个证人那里获得了证词,他相信没有任何可疑的事发生。他把证词的副本寄给了我。下面是福斯科的厨师赫斯特·平霍恩太太的笔录:


我是最近受雇于福斯科伯爵夫妇的,他们住在圣约翰伍德,弗雷斯特街5号。快7月底的一天,伯爵夫人的侄女,格莱德夫人来到伯爵家。她很快就病了。我看见她躺在沙发上,脸色苍白。我跑去叫医生,找来了古德里克先生。他给她做了检查,说她得了严重的心脏病。当天夜里,她病情加重。大约第二天早上5点,她失去了知觉。医生进来,用手摸了摸她的胸口,说她已经死了。医生说,因为伯爵是外国人,所以他得亲自到地区办公室报告人口死亡。福斯科伯爵夫妇对格莱德夫人的死非常伤心。格莱德夫人的丈夫在国外,因此他们安排了葬礼的有关事宜,葬礼安排在坎伯兰郡举行。


由于长时间生病,我现在还非常虚弱,此时绝望几乎将我击垮。我找不到什么朋友可以倾诉,茫然不知下面该如何是好。每天我都去教堂墓地,去给劳拉的墓献花,一遍又一遍地读着那些令我心碎的文字。


爱妻劳拉·格莱德之墓

生于1829年3月27日

卒于1850年7月25日

汉普郡布莱克沃特庄园

珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士立

8.Fever

PART TWO
THE STORY TOLD BY MARIAN HALCOMBE
第二部分 玛丽安·哈尔库姆的讲述

4
Arrangements for a marriage

It was a sad day when Walter Hartright left us. Laura stayed in her room all day, and I felt sad and depressed. Poor Mr Gilmore must have had a dull time, and the next morning, when Laura reappeared looking pale and ill, I thought he seemed rather anxious about her. I was anxious too. Laura is such a sensitive and loving person that it was no surprise to me to find that she had grown fond of Walter. Indeed, I have grown fond of him myself. But I honestly believe that time will cure Laura of these feelings.

Two days after Walter left, Sir Percival Glyde arrived. He is forty-five years old but seems younger. He is handsome, and only a little bald, has perfect manners, and is pleasant, agreeable, and respectful. I really must try to like him.

In the afternoon, while Laura was out of the room, Sir Percival referred to Anne Catherick's letter.

'I read Mr Gilmore's letter to my lawyer,' he said, 'and I want to give you a full explanation. Mrs Catherick, you see, worked for me and my family for many years. Her marriage was unfortunate, in that her husband deserted her, and her only child, a girl, became mentally ill and needed to be put in an asylum. So, in recognition of Mrs Catherick's services, I agreed to pay the expenses of a private asylum for the girl. Unfortunately, the girl discovered this and consequently developed a hatred for me. She recently escaped from the asylum and I'm sure she wrote this letter because of her hatred for me. It's all very sad.'

Mr Gilmore found this explanation perfectly satisfactory, and said so. He then looked at me for agreement, but I was struggling with a sense of unease that I could not explain, and hesitated before answering. Sir Percival noticed this at once.

'May I beg you, Miss Halcombe,' he said politely, 'to write to Mrs Catherick to ask if these facts are true?'

I did not want to agree to this, but how could I refuse, without making the situation even more embarrassing than it already was? So I went to the desk, wrote a note, and gave it to him. Without looking at it, he put it in an envelope and wrote the address.

'Now that is done,' he said, 'may I ask if Anne Catherick spoke to Miss Fairlie, or to you?'

'No. She spoke to nobody except Mr Hartright,' I replied.

'Ah, yes, the drawing teacher,' he said thoughtfully. 'And did you discover where Anne Catherick was staying?'

I described the farm to him.

'It is my duty to try to find her,' he continued. 'Tomorrow I will go to this farm and make enquiries.' Soon afterwards he left to go up to his room.

*  *  *

That evening and the next day Sir Percival took every opportunity to bring Laura into the conversation, but she hardly took any notice. He went to the farm to make his enquiries about Anne Catherick, but learnt nothing. Then on Wednesday a letter came from Mrs Catherick — a short, business-like letter, thanking me for my note and saying that everything Sir Percival had told me was completely correct.

Why did I still have doubts? This, surely, was enough proof for anyone, but how I wished that Walter Hartright had been there to give his opinion! At Sir Percival's request I now had to give Laura his explanation of Anne Catherick's letter. She listened quietly and showed no emotion, but I noticed that on the table near her hand was the little book of Hartright's drawings. I also had to tell her that the reason for Sir Percival's visit was to fix the day of their marriage.

'I'm afraid he will ask you to decide quite soon, Laura.'

'Oh no, Marian! I can't do that!' she said. 'Please ask him, beg him, to allow me more time. I promise to give him a final answer before the end of the year, but not yet, please, not yet.'

Sir Percival agreed to this request, and when Mr Gilmore heard about it, he arranged to have a private talk with Laura.

'I have to return to London tomorrow,' he said to me, 'and I need to discuss the financial side of this marriage with Miss Fairlie before I go. As you know, she will inherit a great deal of money and property when she becomes twenty-one next March, and I must include all this in the marriage agreement in a way that reflects Miss Fairlie's own wishes, and is also acceptable to Sir Percival.'

He had the meeting with Laura the next morning, and in the afternoon he left for London, looking rather sad and thoughtful. Wondering what had been said, I hurried up to Laura's room.

'Oh, Marian, come in,' she said. 'I need to talk to you.'

'What is it, Laura? Is it about the marriage agreement?'

'No. I couldn't even bear to discuss that with Mr Gilmore. I'm ashamed to say that all I could do was cry. He was very kind and good, Marian, and he said that he would look after everything for me. No, what I wanted to tell you was this. I cannot bear the situation any longer. I must end it.'

Her eyes were bright and she spoke with great energy. I began to feel alarmed. 'What do you wish to do, Laura darling? Do you want to be released from your promise to marry Sir Percival?'

'No,' she said simply. 'I cannot break my promise to my father. But I want to tell the truth, and I will confess to Sir Percival that I love someone else.'

'Laura! He has no right to know that!' I said in amazement.

'I cannot deceive him,' she said. 'I have thought it over carefully. After I have told him, let him do as he wishes.'

I looked into her innocent, loving eyes and could say nothing. I just put my arms around her, trying not to cry myself.

'May I speak to him tomorrow, in your presence, Marian?'

I held her tight and agreed — though I was not sure I was doing the right thing. Indeed, I was not sure of anything. I could not understand how I had failed to see how deeply she loved Walter Hartright. For the first time in my life I had made a mistake about her. Now I realized that she would love him all her life.

*  *  *

The first thing that happened the next morning did nothing to make me feel more cheerful. A letter arrived for me from poor Walter Hartright. He had decided to leave England and asked me if I could help him find employment abroad. I was then alarmed to read that since his return to London he had neither seen nor heard anything of Anne Catherick, but suspected he had been watched and followed by strange men. I was worried about his state of mind, so I immediately wrote to some friends in London to ask if they could help him find a suitable job in another country. Laura, of course, knew nothing about these letters.

Sir Percival did not join us for breakfast, but sent a message, saying he would meet us at eleven o'clock, as arranged. Laura seemed calm and unusually self-controlled. I had never seen her like this. It was almost as if love had created a new force in her character.

At exactly eleven Sir Percival knocked and entered, with anxiety and worry in every line of his face. This meeting would decide his future life, and he obviously knew it.

'You may wonder, Sir Percival,' said Laura calmly, 'if I am going to ask to be released from my promise to marry you. I am not going to ask this. I respect my father's wishes too much.'

His face relaxed a little, but I saw one of his feet nervously beating the carpet.

'No, if we are going to withdraw from our planned marriage, it will be because of your wish, Sir Percival, not mine.'

'Mine?' he said in great surprise. 'What reason could I have for withdrawing?'

'A reason that is very hard to tell you,' she answered. 'There is a change in me.'

His face went so pale that even his lips lost their colour. He turned his head to one side.

'What change?' he asked, trying to hide his nervousness.

'When the promise was made two years ago,' she said, 'my love did not belong to anyone. Will you forgive me, Sir Percival, if I tell you that it now belongs to another person?'

Her tears started to fall, and Sir Percival hid his face behind his hand, so that it was impossible to know what he was thinking. He made no answer, and my temper got the better of me.

'Sir Percival!' I said sharply. 'Have you nothing to say? You have already heard more than you have a right to hear.'

'But I didn't ask for that right,' he said, avoiding my question.

'I wish you to understand,' Laura continued, 'that I will never see this person again, and that if you leave me, you only allow me to remain a single woman for the rest of my life. All I ask is that you forgive me and keep my secret.'

'I will do both those things,' he said. Then he looked at Laura, as if he was waiting to hear more.

'I think I have said enough to give you reason to withdraw from our marriage,' she added quietly.

'No. You have said enough to make it the dearest wish of my life to marry you,' he said, getting up and advancing towards her.

Laura gave a cry of surprise, but I had more than half expected this. Every word she had spoken had shown her honesty and her innocence, but these fine qualities had destroyed her own hopes of a release. Sir Percival understood very well the priceless value of a pure and true woman. Why would he give her up now?

'I will do everything I can to earn your love,' he said, 'and perhaps in time I will win it.'

'Never!' she answered, looking more beautiful than ever. 'I will be your true and loyal wife, but never your loving wife.'

'That is enough for me. I accept your loyalty and your truth,' he said, then raised her hand to his lips and silently left the room.

Laura sat without moving. I put my arm around her. At last she said,' I must resign myself, Marian. If you write to Walter, don't tell him how unhappy I am. And if I die first, please say to him, say what I could never say myself — say I loved him!'

Then she threw herself on the sofa and cried as if her heart was breaking, until at last she fell asleep.

*  *  *

In the days that followed it seemed that nothing could prevent this miserable marriage from taking place. I tried to make Laura change her mind, but she was determined to keep her promise, and to do her duty. Mr Fairlie was, of course, very happy that the 'family worry' was now at an end and suggested that the sooner his niece got married the better. This made me very angry, but when I told Laura, I was surprised by her calm reply.

'My uncle is right. I have caused trouble and anxiety to everyone. Let Sir Percival decide on the day for our marriage.'

Sir Percival was delighted by this news, and he then left to prepare for the bride's reception at his house in Hampshire.

I thought that a change would do Laura good, so I arranged for us both to go and stay with some friends in Yorkshire. She passively agreed with my idea. I also wrote to Mr Gilmore, telling him this marriage would now take place.

The next day I received a letter from Walter Hartright, saying that my friends had got him a job on an expedition to Central America. He was going to be the artist for the expedition. He was leaving on 21st November and would be away for six months. I could only hope that this was for the best.

Laura and I then departed for Yorkshire but after only nine days there we received a letter from Mr Fairlie, calling us back to Limmeridge immediately. What could this mean, I wondered?

I found out as soon as we arrived. Mr Fairlie and Sir Percival had agreed on 22nd December for the wedding, provided that Laura also agreed. Would I please persuade her, said Mr Fairlie. His nerves were much too bad to talk to her himself.

I also found our old friend Mr Gilmore, who had come to talk to Mr Fairlie about the marriage agreement. He was leaving that day, and was anxious to speak to me alone before he left.

'I am not at all happy about the financial arrangements in the agreement, Miss Halcombe,' he said, 'but there is nothing I can do about it. I know how fond you are of your sister and I think you ought to know why I am concerned.

'As you will know,' he went on, 'there are three parts to Miss Fairlie's inheritance. Firstly, on Mr Fairlie's death, she will inherit the Limmeridge property and land, and the income from it. If she dies childless, this property will go to a cousin, but the income from it will go to her husband during his lifetime. If she has a son, everything — property and income — will go to the son. No problems there.

'Secondly, when Miss Fairlie reaches the age of twenty-one next March, she will receive the income from £10,000. This £10,000 will go to her aunt Eleanor, if Miss Fairlie dies before her aunt — which is not very likely. The reason Miss Fairlie's father did not leave the £10,000 to his sister Eleanor on his death was that he disapproved strongly of her marriage to a foreigner, even though the man was an Italian nobleman, Count Fosco.'

'Yes, Laura has told me about that,' I said.

'Well,' Mr Gilmore went on, 'there are no problems there either. But the third part of Miss Fairlie's inheritance is more difficult. Next March she will also inherit £20,000, which will be her own money completely. If she dies before her husband, the income from the £20,000 will go to Sir Percival for his lifetime, and the capital will go to their children. If there are no children to inherit the capital, Miss Fairlie can choose relations and friends to inherit the money when she dies. That's what I proposed, but Sir Percival's lawyer did not accept it. He insists that if Sir Percival survives his wife and there are no children, Sir Percival should receive the capital. In that case, nothing will go to any other member of the family, including you, Miss Halcombe.'

Mr Gilmore sighed deeply. 'I protested strongly. I tried every argument I could, but nothing would change the lawyer's mind. I've discovered, you see, that Sir Percival is always in debt and always in need of cash. My last effort has been to come here, to try and persuade Mr Fairlie to oppose this demand from Sir Percival's lawyer. I am sorry to say I have not succeeded. Mr Fairlie wishes to avoid all responsibility for his niece's marriage arrangements. He says that his niece will not die before Sir Percival anyway, so what is there to worry about?'

Mr Gilmore stood up to go and picked up his hat. 'I shall complete the agreement and send it in. I have no choice. If I don't do it, Mr Fairlie will find another lawyer who will. But I tell you, Miss Halcombe, no daughter of mine should be married to any man alive under such an agreement as I am forced to make for Miss Fairlie.'

With that, he shook my hand, and without another word he went away to catch his train back to London.

After he had gone, I tried to be sensible. Mr Fairlie was Laura's guardian and if he chose to accept this agreement, there was nothing I could do about it. It was just one more worry about this dreadful marriage. A more immediate worry was the date of the wedding. When I told Laura, she turned pale and trembled.

'Not so soon!' she cried. 'Oh, Marian, not so soon!'

'Well, let me speak to Mr Fairlie, then,' I said, ready to fight for her. 'I will try to change it.'

'No,' she said faintly. 'Too late, Marian, too late! It will only make more trouble. Please tell my uncle I agree.'

I think I would have cried if I had not been so angry. I rushed into Mr Fairlie's room and shouted loudly, 'Laura agrees to the twenty-second' — and rushed out again, banging the door noisily. I hoped I had destroyed his nerves for the whole day.

*  *  *

After this the wedding preparations began. The dressmakers came and went all the time; there was packing, and planning, and all kinds of arrangements to make. We heard every day from Sir Percival. After the wedding he proposed to take Laura to Italy for six months. They would meet a number of Sir Percival's friends there, including his best and oldest friend, Count Fosco, whose wife, of course, was Laura's Aunt Eleanor. At least this marriage would bring Laura and her aunt together again, I thought. The Count himself sounded a most interesting person, and I rather hoped that I would meet him one day.

All too quickly the days passed. Sir Percival arrived, looking a little tired and anxious but talking and laughing like the happiest of men. The evening after he arrived he went off to the village to ask if anyone had any news of Anne Catherick. No one had heard anything, but I had to admit that it was good of him to continue to try to help her. I have decided to try and think better of him. After all, what reason do I have to distrust him? I am sure that I could like him if I really tried.

It is getting quite easy to like him. Today I spoke to him about the dearest wish of both Laura and myself — that I should be able to live with Laura after her marriage, just as I had always lived with her before. He agreed instantly and seemed delighted with the plan. I would be the ideal, the perfect companion for his wife, he said. Yes, I am beginning to like Sir Percival very much.

*  *  *

I hate Sir Percival! He has no sensitivity, no kindness, no good feeling. Last night he whispered something in Laura's ear — she has refused to tell me what it was — and her face turned white with misery. He took no notice at all, and all my suspicions of him have returned. Is he now showing his true character? He seems more restless and nervous than before, and is often sharp and bad-tempered. I have this strange idea that something might happen to prevent the marriage — and that he is afraid of that. A foolish thought. I must forget it.

As the day of our separation grows nearer, Laura cannot bear to have me out of her sight. I must be brave and cheerful, for her sake, but my fear will not go away. Will this marriage be the one terrible mistake of her life, and the one hopeless sorrow of mine?

*  *  *

It is the twenty-second. No more time for tears. Laura is dressed, and we leave for the church. By eleven o'clock they are married. By three o'clock they are gone. I am blind with crying and can write no more...


cure v. restore to health 治愈

respectful adj. showing deference 有礼貌的

desert v. abandon 抛弃

private adj. independent; not connected with government, public service, etc. 私立的

hesitate v. show or feel uncertainty or indecision 犹豫

embarrassing adj. causing to feel awkward or self-conscious or ashamed 令人难堪的;使人尴尬的

thoughtfully adv. engaged in or given to meditation 沉思地;若有所思地

business-like adj. serious, formal 正式的

emotion n. a strong mental or instinctive feeling 情感

inherit v. receive by legal descent or succession 继承

presence n. the state or condition of being present 在场

release v. set free; liberate 解除

withdraw v. discontinue, cancel 撤出;退出

advance v. move forward 向前走

destroy v. spoil utterly 破坏

in time eventually 最终

loyal adj. true, faithful 忠贞的

resign v. give up 退让

passively adv. offering no objection 被动地;不反对

expedition n. a journey for a particular purpose 为特别目的的旅行

provided conj. on the condition that 只要

likely adj. probable 可能的

disapprove v. have or express an unfavourable opinion 反对

capital n. money used to produce more wealth 资金

protest v. make a protest against an action or proposal 抗议;反对

dreadful adj. terrible, inspiring fear or awe 可怕的

bang v. shut noisily 用力关上

distrust v. have no trust or confidence in, doubt 不相信;怀疑

instantly adv. occurring immediately 立即;即刻

ideal adj. perfect, excellent 最好的

4.准备婚事

沃尔特·哈特里特先生离开的那天,我们都很难过。劳拉一整天呆在自己的房间里不出来,我的心情也很沉闷。可怜的吉尔摩先生肯定觉得那天很无聊。第二天早晨,劳拉从房间出来的时候,面容憔悴,像是病了一场。我觉得吉尔摩先生似乎很为她担心,我也为她担心。劳拉是个敏感而深情的人,她喜欢上沃尔特我一点儿也不觉得奇怪。其实,我自己也喜欢他。但是,我真心希望时间能够治愈劳拉的情伤。

沃尔特离开两天以后,珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士来了。他45岁,但看上去比实际年龄要年轻一些。他很英俊,稍有些秃顶,举止优雅,温和有礼。我尽力让自己对这个人产生好感。

下午,劳拉不在房里的时候,珀西瓦尔爵士提到了安妮·凯瑟里克的那封信。

“我看了吉尔摩先生给我律师的信,”他说,“我想跟你们好好地解释一下。凯瑟里克太太为我和我的家庭工作了许多年,她的婚姻很不幸,她丈夫抛弃了她,她的独生女精神有毛病,需要送进精神病院。所以,为了感谢凯瑟里克太太多年来的服务,我答应承担送她女儿去一家私立精神病院的所有费用。但不幸的是,女孩知道以后,就开始对我怀恨在心。她不久前从精神病院逃走了,我敢肯定是她出于对我的仇恨写了这封信。这太让人伤心了。”

吉尔摩先生认为这个解释非常令人满意,他说完看了看我,希望我也同意他的说法。可是,我有一种说不清的不安的感觉,犹豫了一会儿,没有说话。珀西瓦尔爵士立刻注意到了我的反应。

“哈尔库姆小姐,能否请你给凯瑟里克太太写封信,问问她这些是不是真的呢?”他非常客气地说。

我不想答应他的要求,但是又怎么好拒绝呢?拒绝只能把事情弄得越来越尴尬。于是,我走到桌旁,写了封短信,然后交给了珀西瓦尔。他看也没看就把信装进信封,写上了地址。

“好了,这件事就这样了,”他说,“请问安妮·凯瑟里克跟费尔利小姐或者你谈过吗?”

“没有。她只跟哈特里特先生谈过。”我告诉他。

“噢,是了,那位绘画教师,”他若有所思地说,“你们找到安妮·凯瑟里克的住处了吗?”

我跟他讲了农场的情况。

“找到她是我的责任,”他接着说,“明天我就去农场问问。”不一会儿,他就上楼回他的房间去了。

*  *  *

那天晚上以及第二天,珀西瓦尔爵士努力寻找一切机会同劳拉讲话,但劳拉一直心不在焉。珀西瓦尔去农场调查,结果一无所获。星期三凯瑟里克太太来信了,那是一封简短而又正式的信。信中感谢我给她写信,并且说珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我的都是事实。

为什么我还是有疑问呢?这封信对谁来讲都是充分的证据,可我还是很希望沃尔特·哈特里特先生能在这儿发表一下他的看法。应珀西瓦尔爵士的要求,我得向劳拉解释一下安妮·凯瑟里克来信的事情。她静静地听着,脸上毫无表情。我注意到她手边的桌上放着哈特里特先生的画册。我还得告诉她,珀西瓦尔爵士此行的目的是要确定他们结婚的日期。

“恐怕他会让你马上做决定,劳拉。”

“噢,不行,玛丽安!我不能!”她说,“请帮我问问他,恳求他再给我些时间。我保证年底以前给他最终的答复,但是现在不行,现在不行。”

珀西瓦尔爵士答应了这个要求。吉尔摩先生得知事情的经过后,准备同劳拉单独谈谈。

“我明天必须回伦敦去,”吉尔摩先生对我说,“走之前,我需要和费尔利小姐谈一下这桩婚事的财务问题。你知道,明年3月她21岁的时候,她会继承一大笔财产,我必须把这些都写进结婚协议中去,让协议既能反映费尔利小姐的愿望,也能令珀西瓦尔爵士接受。”

转天上午,吉尔摩先生和劳拉谈了话。下午,他动身去伦敦时,看上去忧心忡忡。不知道他们都说了些什么,我连忙赶去劳拉的房间。

“噢,玛丽安,快进来,我有话跟你说。”劳拉说。

“出了什么事,劳拉?是结婚协议的事吗?”

“不是。我简直没办法跟吉尔摩先生谈这件事。我真不好意思说出口,刚才我只是一个劲儿地哭,什么也没说。吉尔摩先生非常善良,玛丽安,他告诉我,他会帮我打理一切。我现在要告诉你的是,我再也受不了这种局面了,我必须结束这种状况。”

她的眼睛很亮,语气也很坚决。我感到有些害怕,“你想要做什么,亲爱的劳拉?你要解除同珀西瓦尔爵士的婚约吗?”

“不是的,”她回答,“我不能打破对父亲的承诺。但是,我要说出真话,我要告诉珀西瓦尔爵士我爱上了别人。”

“劳拉!他无权知道这件事!”我惊讶地说。

“我不能欺骗他,”她说,“我已经想好了。我把真相告诉他,让他决定该怎么办。”

我看着她纯洁、深情的眼神,一句话也说不出来。我伸手抱住她,尽量控制自己不哭出来。

“明天我就跟他说,你跟我去,好吗,玛丽安?”

我紧紧地抱着她,答应了她的请求——我也不清楚自己做的是对是错。我对什么都没了把握。我不明白为什么我没发觉她爱沃尔特·哈特里特爱得那么深。我第一次对她做出了错误的判断。现在我知道,她会一辈子爱着他。

*  *  *

第二天早晨发生的事让我一点儿也高兴不起来,可怜的沃尔特·哈特里特来信说他决定离开英国,问我能否帮他在国外找份工作。信后面的内容使我非常担心。他回伦敦以后,既没有见到安妮·凯瑟里克,也没有打听到她的任何消息,反而觉得有陌生人在盯他的梢。我担心他情绪不稳,赶忙给几个在伦敦的朋友写信,看他们能不能帮他在国外找到一份合适的工作。当然,劳拉对信的事一无所知。

珀西瓦尔爵士没有来同我们一起吃早餐,他捎话给我们说他会按约定11点来见我们。劳拉超乎寻常的冷静、镇定。我从未见她这样过,好像爱情使她更坚强了。

11点整,珀西瓦尔爵士敲门进来。他满脸紧张和不安。这次谈话将会决定他今后的生活,他显然非常清楚这一点。

“你可能会认为我是来请求与你解除婚约的,珀西瓦尔爵士,”劳拉冷静地说,“我不是来做这样的请求的,我非常尊重父亲的意愿。”

珀西瓦尔爵士的表情放松了一些,但我看到他的一只脚在紧张地敲打着地毯。

“我不会那样做的,如果我们两人要解除婚约的话,那一定是出于你的意愿,珀西瓦尔爵士,而不会是我的。”

“我的意愿?”他吃惊地说,“我能有什么理由解除婚约呢?”

“一个很难向你启齿的理由,我这里有了些变故。”劳拉回答。

珀西瓦尔的脸色变得煞白,双唇一点儿血色都没有。他把脸转向一侧。

“什么变故?”他尽量掩饰着自己的紧张。

“两年前约定婚事的时候,我的爱不属于任何人,”劳拉接着说,“如果我告诉你,珀西瓦尔爵士,我的爱现在属于另一个人,你会原谅我吗?”

她的眼泪流了下来。珀西瓦尔爵士用手捂住了脸,让人看不出他是怎么想的。他一句话也不说,我的直脾气可受不了了。

“珀西瓦尔爵士!”我大声问道,“你不想说点儿什么吗?你已经听到了本来你无权听到的事情。”

“可我并没有要求这权利。”他回避了我的问题。

“我想告诉你,”劳拉继续说,“我再也见不到那个人了。如果你和我分手,我会终身不嫁。我只请求你原谅我,并为我保守秘密。”

“两件事我都答应。”珀西瓦尔说完,看了看劳拉,似乎等着她再说些什么。

“我想我已经讲了足够的理由让你解除婚约。”劳拉平静地说。

“不,你说了这么多,我唯一的感觉是我一生最大的愿望就是同你结婚。”说着,他起身朝劳拉走过来。

劳拉惊讶得“咦”了一声,我倒是猜到了几分他会这么说。劳拉讲的每一句话都透出她的真诚和纯洁,但是这样良好的品德却毁掉了她解脱的希望。珀西瓦尔爵士很清楚,一个纯洁、真诚的女人是无价之宝。他为什么要放弃呢?

“我会尽一切所能去赢得你的爱,也许最终我会成功的。”珀西瓦尔说。

“永远也不会的!”劳拉看上去更美了,“我会是你忠实的妻子,但永远不会爱你。”

“这就足够了。我愿意接受你的忠贞和真诚。”说罢,他拿起劳拉的手吻了吻,然后默默地走出房间。

劳拉坐在那里一动不动,我伸出手搂住她。最后她开口道:“我必须退让,玛丽安。你给沃尔特写信时,不要告诉他我不开心。假如我比他先死了,你一定对他说,说我不能亲口对他说的话——我爱他!”

说完,她扑在沙发上放声痛哭,哭得好像心都碎了一样,最后她趴在那儿睡着了。

*  *  *

接下来的日子里,好像什么也阻止不了这桩不幸的婚姻。我力图让劳拉改变主意,但她却坚持要恪守诺言,履行义务。费尔利先生自然非常高兴,因为这场“家庭烦恼”终于画上了句号。他建议他的侄女越早结婚越好。这令我很气愤,但我把这话告诉劳拉后,她的平静反应倒让我吃了一惊。

“叔叔说的对,我给大家带来了太多麻烦。让珀西瓦尔爵士决定我们的结婚日期吧。”

珀西瓦尔爵士对此非常高兴,他离开庄园回汉普郡,准备迎接新娘。

我想换一个环境肯定对劳拉有好处,于是安排我们两人到约克郡的朋友那里呆一段时间。她同意了。我还给吉尔摩先生写了信,告诉他这桩婚事可以继续了。

第二天,我收到了沃尔特·哈特里特的来信,信中说我的朋友为他找到一份工作,要到中美洲长途旅行,他做随行的画家,11月21号动身,行程6个月。我衷心希望这是最好的安排。

劳拉和我动身前往约克郡。但是,刚刚在那里住了9天,我们就收到费尔利先生的信,让我们立即返回利默里奇。这意味着什么呢,我想不出。

一回来我就明白了。费尔利先生和珀西瓦尔爵士已经把婚礼的时间定在12月22日,就等劳拉点头同意了。费尔利先生问我可不可以说服劳拉同意这个日期,他本人神经不好,无法跟她谈。

我见到了我们的老朋友吉尔摩先生,他是来同费尔利先生谈有关结婚协议的事的。他当天就要离开庄园,着急想与我单独谈谈。

“哈尔库姆小姐,我对结婚协议中的财务安排非常不满意,”他对我说,“但是我一点儿办法也没有。我知道你多么爱你的妹妹,所以我认为你应该知道我为什么担心。

“你知道,”他接着说,“费尔利小姐继承的财产包括三部分。第一,费尔利先生死后,她会继承利默里奇的财产和土地以及由此产生的收入。如果她死后没有孩子,这份财产将转到她的一个亲戚名下,但财产的收入在她丈夫在世的时候将归他所有。如果她有个儿子,所有的财产和收入都归她的儿子。这一点没有任何问题。

“第二,明年3月费尔利小姐21岁的时候,她将得到10,000英镑的收入。如果费尔利小姐在她姑妈埃莉诺之前死去,这笔钱就归她姑妈,这当然不大可能。费尔利小姐的父亲之所以死的时候没有把这10,000英镑留给他的妹妹埃莉诺,是因为他强烈反对她嫁给一个外国人,虽然那个人是位意大利贵族,福斯科伯爵。”

“是的,劳拉跟我说过这件事。”我说。

“好吧,”吉尔摩先生接着说,“这一部分也没有问题。可是第三部分就不那么简单了。明年3月,她还将继承20,000英镑,这完全是属于她个人的一笔钱。如果她先于她丈夫死去,从这20,000英镑获得的收入将属于珀西瓦尔爵士,直至他去世;而这20,000英镑本金将归他们的孩子所有。假如没有孩子继承这笔钱,费尔利小姐死的时候,可以选择亲属或朋友继承。这是我的建议。但是,珀西瓦尔爵士的律师拒不接受这一点,他坚持认为,如果珀西瓦尔爵士死在他妻子后面,同时他们又没有孩子,珀西瓦尔就应该得到这笔钱。那样的话,费尔利家族的任何其他人,包括你在内,都得不到一分钱,哈尔库姆小姐。”

吉尔摩先生长叹了一口气,“我坚决反对这样。我极力争取,但还是无法让那位律师改变主意。我发现珀西瓦尔爵士长期欠债,急需现金。我最后的努力就是来这里试图说服费尔利先生反对珀西瓦尔爵士律师的要求,非常遗憾,我没有成功。对他侄女的这桩婚事费尔利先生什么也不想管。他说他侄女不会死在珀西瓦尔爵士前面的,又有什么可担心的呢?”

吉尔摩先生站起身,拿起帽子准备离开,“我会把协议拟好,并把它寄给你们。我没别的办法,我不这样做,费尔利先生也会再找一名律师这样做的。不过,我跟你说,哈尔库姆小姐,我是不会让我女儿根据我被迫为费尔利小姐准备的这样一份协议嫁人的。”

说完,他握了握我的手,一言不发地离开这里,去赶回伦敦的火车了。

吉尔摩先生走后,我尽量保持理智。费尔利先生是劳拉的监护人,如果他愿意接受这份协议,我做什么都无济于事。这是这桩可怕婚姻的又一个令人担忧的地方。现在更紧迫的事情是结婚日期。我把结婚的日期告诉劳拉以后,她的脸色立刻变白了,身体也开始发抖。

alt

“不要这么快!”她喊道,“噢,玛丽安,不要这么快!”

“好吧,那我去和费尔利先生说,”我这样说着,已经做好了为她去抗争的准备,“我会尽力去改变这个日期。”

“算了吧,”她有气无力地说,“一切都太晚了,玛丽安,太晚了!抗争只能带来更多的麻烦。去告诉我叔叔,我同意了。”

我要不是气愤至极,肯定就会哭出声来。我冲进费尔利先生的房间,大声喊道:“劳拉同意22日结婚!”——然后冲出去,很响地甩上门。但愿我能让他的神经一整天都不得安宁。

*  *  *

这以后,婚礼的准备工作开始了。整天都有裁缝进进出出;要收拾行李,做计划,进行各种安排。我们每天都能收到珀西瓦尔爵士的来信,他提议婚礼之后带劳拉到意大利住六个月,见一些珀西瓦尔的朋友,包括他最好的老朋友福斯科伯爵。福斯科伯爵的妻子当然就是劳拉的姑妈埃莉诺。这桩婚姻起码可以让劳拉和她的姑妈重逢,我这样想着。听起来伯爵本人倒是一个非常有趣的人,我也想有朝一日能见见他。

日子很快地过去了。珀西瓦尔爵士终于来了。他看上去有些疲倦和不安,但是有说有笑的仿佛世界上最幸福的男人就是他。他来的当天晚上去了村子里,打听是否有人知道安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。虽然没人给他提供什么消息,但我必须承认他继续寻求帮助她,这是善举。我决定努力改变对他不好的看法,说到底,我有什么理由不信任他呢?我相信如果真的努力尝试,我可能会喜欢他的。

喜欢他是很容易的。今天我同他说起劳拉与我的最大愿望——在劳拉结婚之后,我和她还能像以前一样住在一起。他立刻就答应了,而且很高兴能有这样的安排。他说我将是他妻子最理想、最合适的陪伴。是啊,我开始非常喜欢珀西瓦尔爵士了。

*  *  *

我恨珀西瓦尔爵士!他不善解人意,缺乏同情心,没有好心肠。昨天晚上,他跟劳拉耳语了些什么——劳拉不愿告诉我具体内容——她的脸色变得非常难看。而他却一点儿没在意。我以前对他所有的怀疑又出现了。现在,他是不是露出了他的本来面目?他变得比以往更加焦躁不安,经常言语尖刻,发脾气。我有个奇怪的想法,是不是会有什么事阻止这桩婚姻,而又非常害怕那样的结局。这是胡思乱想,我不能当真。

我们分别的日子一天天临近了,劳拉一刻也不肯离开我。为了她,我必须勇敢些,高兴起来。但是,我的担心没有消失。这桩婚姻会成为劳拉一生的大错吗?会成为我伤心、痛苦的根源吗?

*  *  *

22日到了。时间到了,不能再哭了。劳拉梳妆打扮完毕,我们要去教堂了。11点钟,婚礼就会结束。下午3点,他们就离开这里了。我已经哭得视线模糊,无法继续写下去了……

5
A document for signature

Six long, lonely months passed, and I had little to do but think of absent friends. I received a cheerful letter from Walter Hartright after he arrived in Honduras, and just before he set off with the expedition into the forest. Since then, I have heard nothing. There was no news of Anne Catherick or Mrs Clements. Poor Mr Gilmore fell very ill and had to give up work, but his business is continued by his partner, Mr Kyrle. Mrs Vesey has moved to London to live with her sister, and Mr Fairlie, I believe, is secretly delighted to have his house free of women.

Most of all, of course, I thought about Laura. Many letters came from her, but she said very little in them. She told me she was well, but hardly mentioned her husband, and wrote not a word about Count Fosco, whom they had met in Austria, not Italy. I understood from her silence that she did not like him. All she said was that her Aunt Eleanor, Madame Fosco, was quieter and more sensible than she had used to be.

*  *  *

On 11th June I arrived at Blackwater Park, Sir Percival's family home in Hampshire. The waiting was nearly over, and how happy I was! The next day Laura and her husband would return home, together with Count Fosco and his wife, who were going to spend the summer at Blackwater.

In the morning the housekeeper, Mrs Michelson, showed me round the house. It is very old, and much of it is dusty and unused; only one part of the enormous building is comfortable enough to live in.

Later I explored the gardens and the park. The gardens are small and not well kept, and there are so many trees that the house feels shut in by them. I found a path through the trees, which after half a mile brought me to a lake. It was a damp, lonely place. The still dark waters of the lake and the long shadows from the tall trees gave it a gloomy air. Near the lake there was an old boat-house with some seats in it, so I went in and sat down for a rest.

I am not a nervous person generally but when I heard the sound of quick breathing under my seat, I jumped to my feet in alarm. In fact, it was a dog — a small black and white dog, with a bullet wound in its side. I carried the poor creature back to the house and sent for Mrs Michelson to help me.

When she came in and saw the dog lying on the floor, she cried out at once, 'Oh! That must be Mrs Catherick's dog!'

'Whose?' I asked, amazed.

'Mrs Catherick's. Do you know her? She came here to ask for news of her daughter.'

'When?'

'Yesterday. She'd heard that her daughter Anne had been seen in the neighbourhood. But no one knew anything. I suppose the dog ran away into the woods and got shot by the park-keeper.'

I tried to make my voice sound politely interested. 'I suppose you've known Mrs Catherick for some years?'

'Oh no, Miss Halcombe, I never saw her before. She lives at Welmingham, twenty-five miles away. I had heard of her, because of Sir Percival paying for her daughter to go to an asylum. But yesterday, Mrs Catherick asked me not to mention her visit to Sir Percival. That was an odd thing to say, wasn't it, Miss?'

Odd, indeed! But then we had to turn our attention to the poor dog, which, despite our efforts, died a little while later. It was a sad thing to happen on my first day at Blackwater.

*  *  *

Later that evening the travellers returned. After my first happiness at meeting Laura, I felt there was a strangeness between us and I realized she had changed. I was sure we would soon get back to normal, but she had lost her innocent openness. She was unwilling to talk about her married life, and I saw that there were no warm feelings between her husband and her. It wasn't long before she asked me about Walter — 'Have you heard from him? Is he well and happy?' — and it was clear to me that she loved him as deeply as ever.

As for Sir Percival, his manners are sharper and less pleasant. On meeting me he simply said, 'Hello, Miss Halcombe. Glad to see you again,' — and then walked past me. Little things seem to annoy him a great deal. For example, the housekeeper told him a man had called to speak to him a week ago but had left no name. Sir Percival demanded a description of the man, which poor Mrs Michelson was unable to give, and Sir Percival stormed out of the room in great anger.

Laura was certainly right about Madame Fosco. Never have I seen such a change in a woman. As Eleanor Fairlie (aged thirty-seven), she wore bright clothes, was silly and foolish, and always talked nonsense. As Madame Fosco (aged forty-three), she wears only grey or black, and sits for hours in silence, doing needlework, rolling up cigarettes for the Count, or just looking at him with the eyes of a loyal dog.

And the man who has achieved this extraordinary change, the man who has tamed this wild Englishwoman? Yes, what can I say about the Count? He looks like a man who could tame anything. If he had married me, I would have made his cigarettes, as his wife does. I would have held my tongue when he looked at me, as she holds hers.

How can I explain the power, the attraction, the force that comes from this man? There are many unlikeable or unattractive things about him. For example, he is enormously fat; he seems to have false hair; he is at least sixty years old. He is lazy, jumps at the slightest sudden sound, and has a peculiar fondness for pet animals. He has brought with him a variety of birds and a whole family of white mice, which he often kisses and calls loving names, just as a child might do.

And yet, and yet... He is fat, but moves lightly and easily, like a dancer. There is a calmness and a strength about his smooth, unlined face, and his voice is persuasive, gentle, hard to resist. His knowledge of the English language is perfect and he is a well-known expert in chemical science. He speaks in baby language to his white mice, but he talks with intelligence and charm about books in every language, and brings to his conversation experience of life in half the capitals of Europe.

But it is his eyes that I shall always remember — his cold, clear, beautiful grey eyes, eyes which held such a frightening power that I shiver even now to think of it.

I could discover very little about his past from Sir Percival. I only learnt that he had not been to Italy for years; I wondered if this was for political reasons. It seemed he had saved Sir Percival from great danger in Rome once and they had been the closest of friends ever since. It was quite clear that Sir Percival was always anxious to please him and would never go against his wishes.

I wonder whether I am afraid of him too. I certainly never saw a man I would be more sorry to have as an enemy.

*  *  *

At lunchtime, a few days after they all returned, a man called Mr Merriman arrived, asking to see Sir Percival urgently. Sir Percival had clearly not expected the visit and looked both alarmed and angry as he left the table.

Neither Laura nor I had any idea who Mr Merriman was, but the Count told us he was Sir Percival's lawyer. I wondered what had happened, as a lawyer does not usually travel from London to Hampshire unless sent for. Mr Merriman must be the bringer of important news — either good or bad.

Count Fosco obviously read my thoughts and said softly to me, 'Yes, Miss Halcombe, something has happened.'

Later in the day I was coming from my room when I saw Sir Percival and his lawyer crossing the hall downstairs. They spoke quietly, but clearly enough for their words to reach my ears.

'Yes, Sir Percival,' I heard the lawyer say, 'it all depends on Lady Glyde.'

I immediately stopped when I heard Laura's name and, although I knew it was wrong, continued to listen.

'You understand, Sir Percival, Lady Glyde must sign her name in the presence of two witnesses. If this is done in a week's time, everything will be all right. If not, I may be able to get them to accept a document promising payment in three months. But how that money is to be obtained by then... '

They went into the library and I heard no more, but it seemed that Sir Percival had a serious debt and that the solution to it depended on Laura. I immediately went to tell Laura what I had heard. She did not seem surprised.

'I was afraid of something like this,' she said, 'when I heard about that strange gentleman who called, without leaving his name. He had probably come to ask for his money. But don't worry, Marian. I won't sign anything that I might later regret.'

In the evening Sir Percival was unusually polite and pleasant to all of us. What did this mean? I thought I could guess — I was afraid Laura could guess — and I was sure Count Fosco knew. I saw Sir Percival looking at him for approval more than once during the evening. The Count was certainly aware of Sir Percival's financial problems.

The next morning Sir Percival asked Count Fosco, Laura, and myself if we would go to the library for a minute after lunch for a small business matter. Before lunch, however, we all went for a walk to the lake, stopping at the boat-house for a rest.

'Some people call the lake pretty,' said Sir Percival, pointing to the view. 'I call it ugly. It looks just the place for a murder, doesn't it? What do you think, Fosco?'

'My dear Percival,' the Count protested, 'the water is too shallow to hide a body. Only a fool would murder someone here. A wise man would choose somewhere else.'

'Wise men do not murder,' said Laura, looking at him with dislike. 'I am sure you cannot give me an example of a wise man who has been a criminal.'

'My dear lady,' said the Count, 'it is impossible to give an example, because a wise man's crime is never found out.'

As he spoke, he was playing with his white mice in their little cage, and suddenly noticed that one of them was missing. A few seconds later he found the little animal under a seat, but also found something which seemed to shock him.

'Percival,' he said, 'come here. Look at this in the sand. Blood!'

Everyone seemed alarmed, so I had to explain about the wounded dog I had found.

'Whose dog was it?' asked Sir Percival.

'The housekeeper said it was Mrs Catherick's dog,' I replied, remembering too late that the visit was meant to be kept secret.

'What the devil was Mrs Catherick doing here?'

This question came with such rudeness and anger that I turned away. Count Fosco laid his hand on Sir Percival's arm.

'My dear Percival! Gently, gently!'

To my great surprise, Sir Percival apologized to me, and Count Fosco then said, 'Why not question the housekeeper, Percival, since she seems to know all about it?'

Sir Percival took the point, and immediately left us to return to the house.

The Count seemed fascinated by Mrs Catherick and wanted to know all about her visit. I tried to say as little as possible, but Laura asked questions too, and in the end the Count knew as much as we did about Mrs Catherick and her daughter Anne. I was quite sure, from his surprise at the story, that the Count had known nothing of Anne Catherick, and uneasily I wondered why Sir Percival had not told his closest friend.

When we went back to the house, Sir Percival came to greet us. 'I am sorry to say I have to leave you. I have to drive a long way and won't be back until tomorrow. First, though, I would like to finish that little business matter. Will you come into the library? It won't take a minute.'

In the library he got a document out of a cupboard and put it on the table. It was folded in such a way that all the writing was hidden and only the places to sign were visible.

Handing a pen to Laura, he said, 'Sign there. You and Fosco are to sign afterwards, Miss Halcombe.'

'What do you want me to sign?' Laura asked quietly.

'I have no time to explain. I have to leave. It's just business,' he said angrily. 'Women don't understand business. Just sign it.'

'But surely I ought to know what I am signing.'

'I see. So you're saying you don't trust me! Is that it? What kind of a wife is that?'

To help Laura, I said, 'I am afraid I cannot be a witness if she doesn't understand what she is signing.'

Sir Percival turned to me furiously. 'How dare you! You're a guest in my house and you take my wife's side against me!'

'Control your unfortunate temper, Percival,' said the Count, and I heard him whisper to him, 'You idiot!'

But Laura had put the pen down and moved to my side.

'Lady Glyde is right,' the Count then said. 'Let the signature wait until tomorrow.'

Sir Percival swore at him, but moved away from the table.

'All right, then,' he said, 'until tomorrow. Anyway, I have to go. But you will sign tomorrow or —' He gave his wife a cold, hard stare, then went out.

As Laura and I moved to the door, the Count approached us. 'You have just seen Sir Percival at his worst,' he said. 'As his old friend, I apologize for him and promise he won't behave like that tomorrow.'

I had begun to realize that I could not hope to remain at Blackwater Park now without the influence and support of the Count, so I answered by thanking him warmly. Then I led Laura out and took her up to my room for a rest.

While we were there, she told me how cruel Sir Percival had been to her since their marriage and how unhappy she was. I tried to calm her and to find a solution to the problem of the signature. Suddenly I had the idea of writing to Mr Gilmore's partner, Mr Kyrle, and asking for his advice. In my letter I also asked him to get a messenger to bring the reply by one o'clock the next day. I then put the letter in the post-bag in the hall. Just at that moment Madame Fosco appeared and asked to speak to me in the garden. She spoke to me for a full half-hour about how much sympathy she had for me. I found this very odd indeed since she had shown very little interest in me before.

When I finally returned, I saw the Count also putting a letter in the post-bag. For some reason I decided to check my letter was properly closed, so I got it out of the bag. This was lucky, as I found the envelope had come open. How strange, I thought. Perhaps there had been something wrong with it...

Or perhaps...

No! There could be no other explanation.


absent adj. not present 不在场的

free of not containing or subject to 没有

enormous adj. very large, huge 非常大的

gloomy adj. dismal, depressing 阴暗的;阴郁的

creature n. an animal 动物

neighbourhood n. the surrounding area 附近

odd adj. extraordinary, strange 反常的;奇怪的

storm v. move violently or angrily 气愤地走

tame v. make tame 驯服

hold one's tongue be silent 不说话

enormously adv. very, quite 非常

frightening adj. terrifying 使人害怕的

go against be contrary to 反对

urgently adv. requiring immediate action or attention 急迫地

obtain v. acquire, secure 得到;获得

library n. a room containing a collection of books 书房

aware adj. conscious or having knowledge 清楚;知道

murder n. killing unlawfully with a premeditated motive 谋杀

rudeness n. being impolite or offensive 无礼

fascinated adj. showing great interest in 非常感兴趣的

fold v. bend or close something over upon itself 折叠

furiously adv. extremely angry 极度气愤地

swear v. use indecent language 骂人

stare n. a staring gaze

messenger n. a person who carries a message 信使

properly adv. fittingly; suitably 适当地

5.需要签字的文件

漫长、孤寂的六个月过去了。除去思念不在身边的朋友们,我无所事事。我收到一封沃尔特·哈特里特的来信,是他到达洪都拉斯,进入林地之前写的。从那以后,他就没有了任何消息。安妮·凯瑟里克和克莱门茨太太没有任何音信。可怜的吉尔摩先生病得很厉害,不得不停止工作。他的工作由他的合伙人克尔先生代理。维西太太搬到了伦敦,和她妹妹住在一起。我想费尔利先生一定暗自高兴这庄园里没有了女人。

我最思念的当然是劳拉。她来过许多信,但是内容都非常简单。她说她挺好的,却只字不提她丈夫,也不提福斯科伯爵。他们是在奥地利相见的,而不是在意大利。从她的沉默我看得出,她不喜欢他。她只是说到埃莉诺姑妈,就是福斯科夫人,比以前话少了,也更理智了。

*  *  *

6月11日,我来到布莱克沃特庄园,珀西瓦尔爵士在汉普郡的家。等待终于快结束了,我异常兴奋。第二天,劳拉同她丈夫就要回来了,一同来的还有福斯科伯爵夫妇,他们要在布莱克沃特度过这个夏天。

早上,管家米切尔森太太领我参观了房子。这是一幢很古老的房子,多处是厚厚的尘土,没有人住。偌大的房子只有一部分还比较舒适,可以住人。

之后,我去看了看花园和园林。花园很小,维护得也不好。这周围树木非常多,遮蔽了房子。我发现了树林中的一条小路,沿着小路走了半英里之后是一个湖。这是一个潮湿僻静的地方。平静漆黑的湖水和长长的树影使这里笼上了一层阴暗、凄凉的色彩。湖的附近有一个破旧的船屋,里面有几个座位,我走进去坐下休息。

我并不是一个胆小的人,但是听见座位底下传来急促的喘息声,我还是惊得一下子跳了起来。其实,那是只狗——一只黑白相间的小狗,身子的一侧有子弹的伤痕。我把可怜的小东西带回房子里,叫来米切尔森太太帮我。

米切尔森太太进来看见地上躺着的小狗,马上大声说:“噢,这一定是凯瑟里克太太的狗!”

“是谁的狗?”我非常吃惊地问。

“凯瑟里克太太的。你认识她吗?她来这里打听过她女儿的消息。”

“什么时候?”

“就是昨天。她听说有人在附近看见过她女儿安妮。可是没人知道这件事。我想这条狗可能跑到树林里去,让看林人给打了。”

我尽量让自己听起来不是过分好奇,“你是不是认识凯瑟里克太太好多年了?”

“噢,也不是,哈尔库姆小姐。我以前没见过她。她住在离这里25英里远的韦明翰。我听说过她,因为珀西瓦尔爵士出钱送她女儿去精神病院。但是昨天,凯瑟里克太太让我别跟珀西瓦尔爵士讲她来过的事。这有点儿怪,是吧,小姐?”

奇怪,的确奇怪!但是,我们得把注意力集中到那只小狗身上,虽然我们尽力挽救,没过多久它还是死了。我第一天到布莱克沃特就发生了一件令人伤心的事。

*  *  *

当天晚上,旅行者们都回来了。我见到劳拉的高兴劲儿刚过,就觉得我们之间有一种奇怪的感觉,我意识到她变了。我相信,我们之间很快就会像从前一样。但是她好像失去了原来的纯真和坦诚。她不愿谈自己的婚后生活,而且我发现她同她丈夫之间毫无亲密可言。她很快就向我问起沃尔特:“你收到他的信了吗?他好吗?”显而易见,她还在深深地爱着他。

至于珀西瓦尔爵士,他的脾气变得越发暴躁,越发不讨人喜欢。见到我,他只是简单地说了声“你好,哈尔库姆小姐。很高兴又见到你。”然后就从我身边走过去了。一点点小事也会让他大为恼火。举个例子,米切尔森太太告诉他一个星期前有个男人来找他,但没有留下姓名。珀西瓦尔爵士问那人什么模样,可怜的米切尔森太太说不上来,于是珀西瓦尔爵士勃然大怒,气急败坏地走出房间。

关于福斯科夫人,劳拉说得很对。我从未见过哪个女人身上会发生如此大的变化。她是埃莉诺·费尔利小姐的时候(当时她37岁),经常穿鲜亮的衣服,说傻话,做傻事。她成了福斯科夫人以后(现在她43岁),只穿灰色和黑色的衣服,而且经常几个小时坐在那里一声不吭地做针线,给伯爵卷烟或者像一条忠诚的狗一样望着伯爵。

那么,那个导致了如此变化,驯服了这么一个桀骜不驯的英国女人的男人呢?对,我该怎么描述伯爵呢?他好像可以驯服一切。假如他娶了,我也会像他妻子一样给他卷烟,我也会像她一样被他看一眼就闭上嘴。

我应该怎么解释这个男人的魔力、魅力和影响呢?其实,他身上有许多不招人喜欢的地方。比方说,他体形肥胖,似乎还戴假发,而且少说也有60岁了。他人很懒,听到任何一点儿响动都会跳起来,还特别爱养宠物。他带来各种各样的鸟和一大窝白鼠。他就像小孩子一样,时常亲吻这些宠物,用昵称叫它们。

可是,可是……他身体肥胖,但动作像舞蹈演员一样轻巧灵便。他的脸很光滑,没有皱纹;表情沉稳庄重。他的声音很柔和,有一种难以抵挡的魅力。他精通英语,还是个化学家。他用儿语对白鼠讲话,但是谈到用任何语言写作的书籍,他都睿智机敏,滔滔不绝。他到过一半欧洲国家的首都。他经常谈起在那些城市的经历。

但让我铭记在心的是他的眼睛——一双冷酷、明亮、好看的灰眼睛。他的眼睛有一种慑人的威力,我现在想起来还会打哆嗦。

关于他的过去,我从珀西瓦尔爵士那儿知道的很少。我只知道他很多年没回意大利了,不知道是不是由于政治原因。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士在罗马遇到大难,伯爵帮助他脱离了危险。从那以后,他们成了密友。很明显,珀西瓦尔爵士总是力图讨好伯爵,从不跟他对着干。

我不知道自己是不是也害怕他。但是,他是我所见过的人中我最不愿与之成为敌人的。

*  *  *

他们旅行回来几天后,吃午饭的时候,一个叫梅里曼的人来了,要求马上见珀西瓦尔爵士。看得出,珀西瓦尔没想到这个人会来,他起身出去的时候显得既吃惊又生气。

劳拉和我都不知道梅里曼先生是何许人。伯爵告诉我们他是珀西瓦尔爵士的律师。我不知道出了什么事,因为除了被唤而来,律师是不会从伦敦到汉普郡来的。梅里曼先生一定带来了什么重要消息——不管是好消息还是坏消息。

福斯科伯爵显然看出了我的心事,轻声对我说:“没错,哈尔库姆小姐,确实出事了。”

后来,我从房里出来,看见珀西瓦尔爵士和律师正穿过楼下的大厅。他们说话的声音很低,但还是清晰地传进我的耳朵里。

“是的,珀西瓦尔爵士,”我听见律师说,“一切都取决于格莱德夫人了。”

听到劳拉的名字,我马上停住了脚步。我知道这样做不好,但还是接着往下听。

“你知道,珀西瓦尔爵士,格莱德夫人必须在两个证人在场的情况下签字,只要这件事在一星期之内办妥,一切都好说。如果不行,我可以准备一份文件,向他们保证三个月后付款。可是,三个月后怎么能弄到钱呢……?”

他们走进书房,下面的话我听不见了。好像珀西瓦尔爵士欠了一大笔债,而还债就取决于劳拉。我立即把刚刚听到的消息告诉了劳拉,她看上去一点儿也不惊讶。

“我料到会出这种事,”劳拉说,“在我听说来了一位没有留下姓名的陌生人时,我就料到了。那人很可能是来要钱的。不过别怕,玛丽安,任何今后我可能后悔的文件,我都不会签的。”

那天晚上,珀西瓦尔爵士对我们大家异乎寻常地客气。这说明什么呢?我想我能猜出来——劳拉也能猜出来——而且我敢肯定福斯科伯爵清楚其中的奥秘。我注意到珀西瓦尔有好几次都用眼神征求伯爵的意见。伯爵肯定清楚珀西瓦尔爵士的经济困境。

第二天早上,珀西瓦尔爵士让福斯科伯爵、劳拉还有我午饭后到书房来一下,谈一点事情。午饭前我们一同散步来到了湖边,在船屋里歇脚。

“有人说这湖很美,”珀西瓦尔爵士指着周围的景色说,“我觉得它很丑,像个发生凶案的地方,不是吗?你觉得呢,福斯科?”

“我亲爱的珀西瓦尔,”伯爵反对道,“这里的水太浅了,根本藏不住尸体,只有傻子才在这里谋杀。聪明人会选择别的地方。”

“聪明人不会去杀人的,”劳拉一面说着,一面不高兴地看着伯爵,“我相信你找不出一个聪明人犯罪的例子。”

“亲爱的夫人,”伯爵说,“我可找不出例子,因为聪明人犯罪不会让人知道。”

伯爵一边说着,一边摆弄着小笼子里的白鼠。他突然发现少了一只,但很快在一个座位底下找到了它,同时还发现了让他大吃一惊的东西。

“珀西瓦尔,快过来。你看这沙子,上面有血!”他说。

大家都很吃惊,我不得不告诉他们我发现那只受伤的狗的事情。

“谁的狗?”珀西瓦尔爵士问。

“管家说是凯瑟里克太太的。”我回答,忽然想起来这应该是秘密,可是太晚了。

“凯瑟里克太太到这儿来干什么?”

珀西瓦尔问得既气愤又无礼,我转过身去。福斯科伯爵拍了拍珀西瓦尔的胳膊。

“亲爱的珀西瓦尔!别着急,别着急!”

出乎我的意料,珀西瓦尔给我道了歉。伯爵接着说:“为什么不问问管家呢,珀西瓦尔?她好像知道事情的来龙去脉。”

珀西瓦尔爵士接受了这个建议,马上告辞回了庄园。

伯爵似乎对凯瑟里克太太非常感兴趣,想了解她那次来的所有情况。我尽量少透露信息,可是劳拉也问这问那。最后,我们知道的关于凯瑟里克太太以及她女儿安妮的情况,伯爵全都知道了。从伯爵惊讶的表情我可以断定,在这之前他对安妮·凯瑟里克一无所知。我很纳闷,为什么珀西瓦尔爵士不告诉他的好朋友这些事。

我们回到庄园,珀西瓦尔爵士过来同我们打招呼,“很抱歉,我得跟大家告辞。我要赶很长一段路,明天才能回来。不过,我想走之前了结那件小事。到书房来好吗?一会儿就好。”

来到书房,他从柜子里取出一份文件放到桌子上。文件是叠起来的,文字部分都遮住了,只能看见签字的部分。

他把一支笔递给劳拉,说:“在这儿签字吧。哈尔库姆小姐,你和福斯科等会儿再签。”

alt

“你要我签的是什么文件?”劳拉平静地问。

“我没时间解释,我得走了,就是一份公文,”珀西瓦尔很不高兴地说,“你们女人不懂,你就签字吧。”

“我当然有理由知道我签的是什么。”

“我明白了,你的意思是你不信任我!对吗?这叫什么妻子?”

我站在劳拉一边,说:“如果她不知道签的是什么,那我恐怕无法做证人。”

珀西瓦尔爵士愤怒地转向我,“你好大的胆子!你是我的客人,可却站在我妻子一边同我作对!”

“控制一下你的臭脾气,珀西瓦尔,”伯爵说,我听他对珀西瓦尔耳语:“你这笨蛋!”

劳拉放下笔,走到我身旁。

“格莱德夫人说的对,”伯爵说,“签字的事明天再说吧。”

珀西瓦尔爵士朝他破口大骂,但还是走开了。

“那好吧,”珀西瓦尔说,“那就等明天。不管怎样,我现在得走了。但是,你明天必须签字,否则——”他恶狠狠地瞪了他妻子一眼,然后走出了房间。

劳拉和我往外走的时候,伯爵走了过来。“你们刚才看到了珀西瓦尔爵士脾气最差的样子,”他说,“作为他的老朋友,我替他道歉。我保证他明天不会这样了。”

我开始明白,现在要是没有伯爵的帮助,我是不大可能接续呆在布莱克沃特庄园的。我真心地感谢了他。然后,我拉着劳拉上楼,到我的房间休息一会儿。

在我的房间里,劳拉告诉我结婚后珀西瓦尔爵士对待她多么冷酷,她多么不开心。我努力安慰她,帮她想办法解决签字的问题。忽然,我想到了给吉尔摩先生的合伙人克尔先生写信,问问他的意见。我在信里叫他派一个信使第二天1点之前把回信带过来。写完后,我把信放到了大厅的邮袋里。就在这时,福斯科夫人走过来,约我到花园里谈谈。她跟我足足说了半个小时她有多么同情我。我觉得非常奇怪,因为她以前根本就不在意我。

我回到屋里,看到福斯科伯爵也在往邮袋里放信。不知出于什么原因,我决定查看一下我的信是不是封好了。于是,我把我的那封信拿了出来。我还真做对了,我发现信封是开着的。好奇怪呀,我心里想。也许有人在捣鬼……

也许……

没错!不会是别的原因。

6
An appointment by the lake

After dinner that evening, Laura and I went for a walk down to the lake. The atmosphere was gloomy and depressing, but at least we were alone.

'I want to have no secrets from you, Marian,' Laura said, 'but I'm sure you have already guessed what my married life is like. Sir Percival said such cruel things to me in Italy that I turned for comfort to my memories of those happy days with Walter Hartright. And I have to tell you, Marian, Sir Percival now knows that Walter is the man I loved.'

I stared at her, and what little hope I had left began to die.

'It was at a party in Rome. Some people from London said I should have drawing lessons and recommended a Mr Hartright. I could not control myself when I heard his name and my husband noticed. "So it was him, was it?" he said, with a horrible smile. "Well, we will see about Mr Hartright. You will be sorry, and so will he, to the end of your lives." And Marian, he uses this knowledge like a whip to punish me, day in, day out.'

'Oh, Laura!' I said, putting my arms around her. This was my fault — yes, my fault! I remembered the white despair of Walter's face as I told him to leave, as I tore these two young hearts apart. And I had done this for Sir Percival Glyde.

For Sir Percival Glyde.

*  *  *

It was growing dark when we set out for home, and as we left Laura seized my arm. 'Marian, look!'

By the lake was a dark figure, half hidden by the evening mist rising off the water. We began to walk quickly.

'I'm sure it's following us,' whispered Laura. 'Is it a man or a woman?' She was shaking with fear.

'It's hard to tell in this light,' I said, then called out, 'Who's there?' There was no answer.

We hurried back through the wood, and when we reached home, I sent Laura upstairs and went to find out where everyone was. The Count and his wife, the servants, the housekeeper — all were inside. The figure by the lake was no one from the house. So who could it have been?

The next day Laura discovered she had lost her bracelet and thought she must have dropped it near the lake. She went off to look for it while I waited for the messenger from Mr Kyrle.

One o'clock came. By now I was so suspicious of everyone in the house that I decided to slip out and meet the messenger myself. Taking great care not to be seen, I went down to the main gate and a little way along the road. Soon a cab appeared. I stopped it and said, 'Are you going to Blackwater Park?'

A man put his head out and said, 'Yes, with a letter for Miss Halcombe.'

'You may give the letter to me,' I said. 'I am Miss Halcombe.'

I read the letter quickly.


Dear Miss Halcombe — Your letter has caused me great anxiety. It seems very likely that Lady Glyde's signature is needed so that a Loan of all or part of her £20,000 can be made to Sir Percival. This is almost certainly illegal, and Lady Glyde should not sign any document until I have examined it first.

Sincerely, William Kyrle.


I read this very thankfully and told the messenger to say that I understood the letter. As I spoke these words, Count Fosco came round the corner and suddenly appeared in front of me. Completely taken by surprise, I stared at him speechlessly. The messenger drove away in his cab, and the Count took my arm to walk home with me.

He talked pleasantly of this and that, and asked no questions about letters or messengers, so I assumed he had found out everything. He must have read my letter, returned it to the post-bag, and now knew that I had received an answer. There was no point in trying to deceive him so I said nothing, and just tried to seem quite cool and calm.

Back at the house we found that Sir Percival had returned, in an even worse mood than before, it seemed. When I told him Laura was out looking for her bracelet, he growled,

'Bracelet or no bracelet, I shall expect to see her in the library in half an hour.'

I turned to go into the house, but behind me heard the Count saying to Sir Percival, 'May I have five minutes' talk with you, here on the grass?'

They walked off together and I went inside to the sitting room, to think over all that had happened. Before long, however, the door opened softly and the Count looked in.

'Good news, Miss Halcombe,' he said. 'The business of the signature is put off for the moment. I'm sure you are relieved.'

He went out before I had recovered from my amazement. There could be no doubt that this change was due to his influence. His discovery of my writing to London and receiving an answer had caused him to interfere. Now there was even more to think about but, exhausted by worry and the heat of the day, my eyes closed and I fell into a little sleep.

I woke to find Laura's hand on my shoulder.

'Marian! The figure at the lake. I've just spoken to her! It's Anne Catherick. Look, she found my bracelet.'

Still half asleep, I stared at her stupidly. 'Anne Catherick?'

'Yes! I was searching in the boat-house,' Laura went on, 'when a woman in a white dress came in and said quietly, "Miss Fairlie. I have your bracelet. Your mother would not want you to lose it. "I jumped up, but her voice was so kind that I wasn't afraid. I asked her how she knew my mother. She said her name was Anne Catherick and asked me if I remembered as a little girl walking with her and my mother to the school in Limmeridge one day. I did remember. Suddenly I saw that we were like each other, but her face was pale and thin and tired. It was how my face might look after a long illness. "Why do you call me Miss Fairlie?" I asked, and she answered, "Because I love the name of Fairlie and hate the name of Glyde."'

'Did she say anything about your husband?' I asked.

'She said that after she wrote the letter, she did not have the courage to stay in Limmeridge to try to prevent my marriage to him. She was afraid he would find her and shut her up in the asylum again. But she was not afraid any more because she was so ill she thought she was dying. Then, Marian, she said that she and her mother knew a secret that my husband was afraid of.'

'Yes? Go on!' I said eagerly. 'What secret?'

'She was just going to tell me, when she thought she heard a noise outside. "We are not alone," she said, "someone is watching. Come here tomorrow at this time and I will tell you." Then she pushed me to one side and disappeared.'

'Oh, Laura, Laura, another chance lost! But you must keep the appointment tomorrow. It seems so important. I will follow you at a safe distance. She must not escape this time.'

We were silent for a time. Then Laura said anxiously, 'Why hasn't Sir Percival called us to the library to sign the document?'

'Oh yes! I forgot to tell you,' I said. 'Thanks to Count Fosco, the business of the signature has been postponed.'

'But why?' Laura said, amazed. 'If Sir Percival urgently needs money, how can it be postponed?'

'I heard Sir Percival's lawyer mention a second plan — to give a document promising payment in three months.'

'Oh, Marian!' she said. 'That would be such a relief.'

'Yes, it would. Let's hope that it's true.'

That evening Sir Percival was polite, even pleasant, especially to Laura. This must have been due to the Count's influence, and it worried me. What lay behind it? I was sure that Sir Percival's sudden journey yesterday had been to Welmingham, to question Mrs Catherick. What had he learnt? What were his plans? As the evening passed, I grew more and more uneasy, and I went to bed feeling very anxious about what the next day would bring.

*  *  *

I was not wrong to be anxious. The next day Laura and I arranged that after lunch she would go alone to the boat-house, and that I would follow a little later, taking great care that Anne Catherick did not see me, in case she was frightened by the appearance of another stranger.

Sir Percival had gone out earlier in the morning and did not appear even for lunch, so it was quite easy to put our plan into action. However, when I came quietly up to the back of the boat-house, I heard no voices, no sounds of movement, nothing. Soon I was searching inside the boat-house, and softly calling Laura's name. But no one answered and no one appeared. Outside, I searched the ground for signs, and found the footprints of two people in the sand — big footprints like a man's and small footprints, which I was sure were Laura's. There was also a little hole in the sand by the wall of the boat-house.

Desperate with worry, I hurried back to the house. The first person I met was Mrs Michelson, the housekeeper.

'Do you know,' I asked, 'whether Lady Glyde has come in?'

'Yes, she has, Miss Halcombe. And I am afraid something unfortunate has happened. Lady Glyde ran upstairs in tears and Sir Percival has told me to dismiss her servant, Fanny.'

My heart sank. Fanny was Laura's personal servant from Limmeridge, and the only person in the house we both trusted.

I ran upstairs to Laura's room. Her door was shut, and there was one of Sir Percival's house servants standing in front of it.

'Move away,' I said. 'Don't you see that I want to go in?'

'But you mustn't go in,' she answered. 'I have my orders.'

Wild with anger, I turned and went downstairs to find Sir Percival. He was in the library with the Count and Countess.

'Am I to understand that your wife's room is a prison?' I asked, staring him full in the face.

'Yes, that is what you are to understand,' he answered.

'Take care how you treat your wife!' I shouted furiously. 'There are laws to protect women, and I will use those laws.'

Instead of answering me, he turned to the Count. The Count looked at me with his calm, cold, grey eyes. But it was the Countess who spoke.

'Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Percival,' she said suddenly. 'But I cannot remain in a house where ladies are treated as your wife and Miss Halcombe have been treated today!'

Sir Percival stared at her in shocked silence, knowing, as I did, she would not have said this without the Count's permission.

'I agree with my wife,' the Count said quietly.

Sir Percival swore, then whispered angrily, 'All right, have your own way.' With these words he left the room.

'We have made the worst-tempered man in England see reason,' said the Count. 'Thanks to your courage, Miss Halcombe, this insulting situation is now ended.'

I tried to speak normally, but could not. The Count left the library, then returned a few minutes later to say that Lady Glyde had the freedom of her own house again. Immediately I rushed upstairs to Laura's room. She was alone inside and I was in such a hurry that I did not close the door properly behind me.

'Marian!' she said thankfully. 'How did you get here?'

'It was the Count's influence, of course,' I said.

'That horrible man!' she cried. 'He's a miserable spy!'

Just then we heard a knock on the door. It was the Countess, bringing me a handkerchief I had dropped. Her face was white, and I saw in her eyes that she had been listening at the door.

'Oh, Laura,' I said when she had gone, 'you shouldn't have called the Count a spy. We shall both regret it.'

'But he is a spy, Marian! There was someone watching me at the lake yesterday, and it was him. He told Sir Percival, who watched and waited all morning for me and Anne Catherick. But she didn't come — I found a note from her hidden in a hole in the sand. She said she'd been followed yesterday by a fat old man. He hadn't caught her, but she was afraid to come back this afternoon. She hid this note very early in the morning, and said she would see me again soon to tell me Sir Percival's secret.'

'What happened to the note?' I said. 'Have you got it?'

'No. While I was reading it, Sir Percival appeared. He took it from me and demanded to hear everything Anne Catherick had said. He held my arm so tightly! — look, see how he's bruised it. What could I do, Marian? I was helpless! I told him everything.'

I looked at the bruises on Laura's arm, and felt such furious hatred for Sir Percival that I dared not speak.

'But he didn't believe me,' Laura went on. 'He said he knew she had told me more and that he would lock me up until I had confessed the truth. Then he took me back to the house, gave orders for Fanny to leave, and locked me in my room. Oh, Marian, he was like a madman! What are we to do?'

'He is mad — mad with fear. He thinks you know his secret,' I said. 'I must act now to protect you — who knows how long I will be allowed to stay here?' I thought hard for a few minutes. 'I will write two letters and give them to Fanny to take with her. I can't trust the post-bag here any more. One for Mr Kyrle, telling him of your bruises and Sir Percival's violent behaviour.'

'And who is the other letter for?' asked Laura anxiously.

'For Mr Fairlie,' I said. 'Your lazy, selfish uncle. I'll make him invite you for a visit to Limmeridge, without your husband.'

I left her then and went to my room to write the letters. Fanny had already gone and was staying the night in the little hotel in the village, before beginning the long journey to Cumberland the next day. I decided I had time before dinner to walk to the village and back, so I slipped quietly out of the house and set off.

From time to time I looked behind me. Was I being followed? Or was my imagination playing tricks on me? By now I was suspicious of everything — every tiny sound, every shadow on the road, every breath of wind. Earlier, while writing the letters, I thought I had heard the rustle of a silk dress outside my door. I had even wondered if someone had been in my room, looking through the things in my desk. I hurried on, trying to put these thoughts out of my mind.

When I got to the little hotel, I saw Fanny in her room. She was very upset at leaving Laura, and started crying, but stopped when I told her that Lady Glyde and I needed her help.

'Here are two letters,' I said. 'Post the one addressed to Mr Kyrle in London tomorrow, and deliver the other to Mr Fairlie yourself when you get home to Limmeridge. Keep them safe!'

Fanny put the letters down the front of her dress. 'They'll stay there, miss,' she said, 'till I've done what you tell me.'


day in, day out one day after another 一天又一天地

seize v. take hold of forcibly or suddenly 紧紧抓住

illegal adj. contrary to law 不合法的

assume v. take or accept as being true, without proof 推想

growl v. murmur angrily 咕哝

put off postpone 推迟

exhaust v. use up the strength or resources of a person 筋疲力尽

postpone v. put off 推迟

footprint n. the impression left by a foot or shoe 脚印;鞋印

dismiss v. discharge from employment 辞退

hospitality n. the friendly and generous reception or entertainment of guests or strangers 热情款待

insulting adj. offending one self-respect or modesty 侮辱性的

bruise v. inflict a bruise on 使受淤伤

selfish adj. deficient in consideration for others 自私的

breath n. slight movement of air 轻风

6.湖畔之约

那天晚饭后,劳拉和我散步来到湖边。周围的环境昏暗而压抑,但至少我们可以单独在一起。

“我不愿对你有任何秘密,玛丽安,”劳拉开口说,“但是,我相信你已经猜到我婚后的生活是什么样子。在意大利,珀西瓦尔爵士跟我说了很多恶毒的话,我只能借助回忆同沃尔特·哈特里特在一起的幸福时光来寻求安慰。我得告诉你,玛丽安,珀西瓦尔爵士现在已经知道沃尔特是我所爱的人了。”

我的眼睛紧盯着她,心中仅存的一线希望也开始泯灭了。

“那是在罗马的一次聚会上,几个从伦敦来的朋友说我应该学学绘画,并向我推荐哈特里特先生。听到他的名字,我无法控制自己的感情,这些被我丈夫看到了。‘就是他,对吗?’他狞笑着问我,‘哈特里特先生的事我们走着瞧。你和他都会后悔一辈子的。’玛丽安,他抓住这件事一天又一天地折磨我。”

“噢,劳拉!”我搂住她。这都是我的错——是的,是我的错!我还记得我告诉沃尔特必须离开的时候,他脸上那惨淡绝望的表情。是我把两颗相爱的心拆开了。我这样做却成全了珀西瓦尔爵士。

成全了珀西瓦尔爵士。

*  *  *

天黑了下来,我们开始往回走。劳拉突然抓住我的胳膊,“玛丽安,你看!”

湖边有一个黑影,傍晚水面上升起的雾气遮住了我们的视线。我们开始加快脚步。

“我敢肯定有人跟踪我们,”劳拉低声说,“是男的还是女的?”她害怕得浑身发抖。

“在这样的光线里看不清,”我回答,然后大声喊道,“谁在那儿?”没有反应。

我们很快地穿过树林,回到家里。我把劳拉送上楼,然后就去查看家里的其他人都在哪儿。伯爵夫妇,仆人,管家——所有的人都在。湖边那个人影不是家里的人,那会是谁呢?

第二天,劳拉发现手镯丢了,她认为一定是丢在湖边了。她出去找手镯,我留在家里等克尔先生的信使。

1点到了。现在,我对家里的每个人都有怀疑,所以决定溜出去自己迎接信使。我尽量不让别人看见,独自来到大门口,又朝前走了一段。不一会儿,一辆马车过来了。我拦住车,问:“是去布莱克沃特庄园吗?”

一个男人探出头说:“是的,给哈尔库姆小姐送信。”

“把信给我吧,”我说,“我就是哈尔库姆小姐。”

我迫不及待地读了来信。

亲爱的哈尔库姆小姐,你的来信令我深感不安。情况很可能是只要有格莱德夫人的签字,珀西瓦尔爵士就可以借走她的20,000英镑或其中一部分,几乎可以肯定这是不合法的。任何我没有仔细看过的文件,格莱德夫人都不要签字。

此致,威廉·克尔

我满怀感激地读完信,告诉信使我明白了信的意思。正说着,福斯科伯爵突然从拐角那边走了出来,出现在我的面前。我没有任何思想准备,两眼盯着他,一句话也说不出来。信使赶车离开了,伯爵挽着我的手臂往回走。

路上,他兴致勃勃地说这说那,没有问任何关于信和信使的事,我想他已经什么都知道了。他肯定偷看了我的信,然后又放回到邮袋里,现在也知道我收到了回信。没有必要再瞒他什么,所以我什么话也不说,尽量表现得镇定。

回到庄园,我们发现珀西瓦尔爵士已经回来了,看上去情绪更加糟糕。我告诉他劳拉出去找手镯了,他生气地咕哝道:

“什么手镯不手镯的,我半小时后必须在书房见她。”

我转身朝屋里走,但听见身后伯爵对珀西瓦尔说:“我可以跟你在草坪上谈5分钟吗?”

他们俩一起走开了,我走进客厅,思考着刚发生的一切。不一会儿,门轻轻地开了,福斯科伯爵出现在门口。

“好消息,哈尔库姆小姐,”他说,“签字的事推迟了,我想你一定放心了吧。”

我还没来得及从惊讶中回过神来,他就出去了。毫无疑问,是他施加了影响才有现在的变化。他发现我给伦敦写信并且收到了回信,于是他开始干预。还有很多事需要考虑,但我实在累极了,再加上天热,我睁不开眼睛,就这么睡着了。

醒来后,我发现劳拉的一只手搭在我的肩上。

“玛丽安!湖边那个人影。我刚跟她谈过了!她是安妮·凯瑟里克。瞧,她找到了我的手镯。”

我还在半梦半醒之间,迷迷糊糊地看着她问:“安妮·凯瑟里克?”

“是的!我正在船屋里找手镯,”劳拉接着说,“一个穿白衣服的女人进来,轻声说:‘费尔利小姐,你的手镯在我这儿。你的母亲一定不希望你把它弄丢了。’我一下子跳了起来,但她的声音非常友善,我很快就不害怕了。我问她怎么认识我母亲。她告诉我她叫安妮·凯瑟里克,问我记不记得小时候有一天同她还有母亲一道去利默里奇的学校。我确实记得。我突然发现我们俩长得很相像,只是她的脸看上去苍白、消瘦、疲惫。我久病之后可能就是那个样子。‘你为什么叫我费尔利小姐?’我问她。她回答说:‘因为我喜欢费尔利这个姓,憎恨格莱德这个姓。’”

“她提到你丈夫了吗?”我问。

“她说她写完那封信以后,没有勇气再呆在利默里奇阻止我和他结婚。她害怕他找到她,再把她关进精神病院。但是现在她不怕了,因为她现在病得很厉害,就要死了。然后,玛丽安,她说她和她母亲知道一个令我丈夫非常害怕的秘密。”

“什么秘密?快说啊!”我急切地问,“什么秘密?”

“她刚要告诉我,就听见外面有响动。‘有人,’她说,‘有人在盯着我们。明天这个时间到这儿来,我再告诉你。’说完,她就推开我走了。”

“噢,劳拉,劳拉,又一个机会跑掉了!你明天一定要去,那个秘密一定非常重要。我跟你去,躲在远处不让她看见。这次可不能叫她再跑了。”

我们沉默了一会儿。然后,劳拉不安地问:“珀西瓦尔爵士怎么还没来叫我们去书房签字呢?”

“对了,我刚才忘了告诉你,”我说,“多亏了福斯科伯爵,签字的事推迟了。”

“为什么?”劳拉惊疑地问,“珀西瓦尔爵士那么急需钱,怎么会推迟呢?”

“我听珀西瓦尔爵士的律师提过另一个计划,要做一份保证三个月后还钱的文件。”

“噢,玛丽安!”她说,“那可太好了。”

“是很好,但愿这是真的。”

那天晚上,珀西瓦尔爵士对大家,尤其对劳拉,非常有礼貌,甚至可以说是非常好。这一定是伯爵的功劳,我对此很担心。这背后到底隐藏着什么?我想珀西瓦尔爵士昨天突然离开,肯定是去韦明翰找凯瑟里克太太了。他得到什么消息没有?他下一步想干什么?一个晚上,我越来越放心不下。睡觉时我对明天将要发生的事情异常担心。

*  *  *

我的担心没有错。第二天,劳拉和我商量好,午饭后她先一个人到船屋去,过一会儿我再去,尽量不让安妮·凯瑟里克看见我,以免她被我这个陌生人吓跑。

上午,珀西瓦尔爵士比往常出去得更早,连午饭也没来吃,因此我们实施计划也更容易一些。然而,我蹑手蹑脚来到船屋后面的时候,却听不到一点儿动静。我进去寻找,轻声叫着劳拉的名字。可是没有人回答,也没有人影。我来到屋外,仔细察看地面,发现沙地上有两个人的脚印——大一些的像是男人的,小一些的我敢肯定是劳拉的。船屋墙边的沙地上还有一个小坑。

我担心极了,赶忙回到庄园。我见到的第一个人是管家米切尔森太太。

“你知道格莱德夫人回来了吗?”我问。

“是的,她回来了,哈尔库姆小姐。可能出了什么不幸的事。格莱德夫人哭着跑上了楼,珀西瓦尔爵士叫我把她的仆人范妮辞退了。”

我的心一下子沉了下来。范妮是劳拉从利默里奇带来的贴身仆人,也是我们两人在这里唯一信任的人。

我跑上楼,来到劳拉的房门口。房门紧闭,珀西瓦尔的一个仆人站在门口。

“让开,”我大声说,“你没看见我要进去吗?”

“你不能进去,”仆人说,“我得听主人的吩咐。”

我肺都要气炸了,转身下楼去找珀西瓦尔爵士。他和伯爵夫妇正在书房。

“你妻子的房间是监狱吗?”我眼睛直盯着他问道。

“是的,你应该明白这点。”他回答。

“请注意你是如何对待你妻子的!”我愤怒地嚷着。“妇女受法律的保护,我会告你的。”

珀西瓦尔爵士没有接我的话,而是转向了伯爵。伯爵用他那平静、冷漠的灰眼睛看着我。但开口的是伯爵夫人。

“谢谢你的热情款待,珀西瓦尔爵士,”她突然说道。“但是,今天你的妻子和哈尔库姆小姐在这里受到如此的对待,我是不能再呆下去了!”

珀西瓦尔爵士目瞪口呆地盯着伯爵夫人,他跟我一样心里明白,没有伯爵的准许,她是不会说这番话的。

“我同意我妻子的话。”伯爵不紧不慢地说。

珀西瓦尔骂了一句,然后气哼哼地低声说:“好吧,你们要怎样就怎样吧。”说完,他走了出去。

“我们让英国脾气最坏的人明白道理了,”伯爵说,“多亏你的勇气,哈尔库姆小姐,这个令人难堪的局面终于结束了。”

我试图以正常的方式讲话,可是却做不到。伯爵走出了书房,几分钟后回来说,格莱德夫人在她自己的家里重获自由了。我立刻冲上楼来到劳拉的房间。她一个人在里面,我进去得太急了,没有关好门。

“玛丽安!”劳拉感激地说,“你是怎么进来的?”

“当然是伯爵帮的忙。”我回答。

“那个可怕的人!”她大声说,“他是个可恶的奸细!”

就在这时,我听到有人敲门。来的是伯爵夫人,她给我送刚才落在楼下的手绢。她脸色苍白,看了她的眼神,我就明白她一直在门口偷听。

“哦,劳拉,”伯爵夫人走了以后,我对劳拉说,“你不应该管伯爵叫奸细,我们都会后悔的。”

“他真的是奸细,玛丽安!昨天在湖边有人跟踪我,那人就是他。是他告诉珀西瓦尔的,珀西瓦尔整个上午都在等我和安妮·凯瑟里克。凯瑟里克没来,我在沙地小坑里找到一张纸条,上面说一个胖老头昨天跟踪她。那人没有抓住她,但是她今天下午不敢来了。她一大早就来藏了纸条,还说她会很快再来见我,告诉我珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。”

“那张纸条呢?”我问,“在你手里吗?”

“没有。我正在看的时候,珀西瓦尔爵士出现在我面前。他把纸条夺过去,要我告诉他安妮·凯瑟里克说了什么。他那么用力地抓我的手臂!——看,都青了。我能怎么办,玛丽安?我一点儿办法也没有,只好都告诉他了。”

我看着劳拉手臂上的伤,心里恨透了珀西瓦尔爵士却敢怒不敢言。

“可他还不相信我,”劳拉继续说道,“他说他知道凯瑟里克还告诉了我很多事,我不说实话,他就把我锁起来。然后他把我带回庄园,下令辞退范妮,还把我锁在房间里。噢,玛丽安,他简直像个疯子!我们该怎么办呢?”

“他是疯了——因为他害怕。他认为你知道了他的秘密,”我说,“我必须采取行动保护你——谁知道我还可以在这儿呆多久呢?”我冥思苦想了几分钟,“我要写两封信让范妮带走。我再也不能相信那个邮袋了。一封给克尔先生,告诉他你的伤和珀西瓦尔爵士的粗暴行为。”

“那另外一封呢?”劳拉迫不及待地问。

“给费尔利先生,”我回答,“你那懒惰、自私的叔叔。我要让他请你回一次利默里奇,不带你丈夫。”

离开劳拉,我回到自己的房间,开始写信。范妮已经离开了庄园,今晚住在村里的旅店,明天动身长途旅行去坎伯兰郡。我想我晚饭前有时间到旅店,然后再回来。所以,我悄悄地溜出庄园,朝村子走去。

我不时回头张望,看是否有人跟踪。或许是我的想象在作怪?现在,我开始怀疑一切——任何小的声响,路上的影子,一切风吹草动。刚才写信的时候,我觉得门外有丝绸衣服的响动。我甚至怀疑是否有人来我房间偷看过我桌子里的东西。我加快了脚步,尽量不去想这些。

来到小旅店,我在范妮的房间见到了她。离开劳拉让她难过得哭了起来。但是,当我告诉她格莱德夫人和我需要她的帮助时,她不哭了。

“这儿有两封信,”我说,“一封你明天到伦敦后寄给克尔先生,另一封你到利默里奇后亲手交给费尔利先生。一定把信收好。”

范妮把信塞到衣服里。“我把信放在这儿,小姐,”她说,“我会照你的吩咐去做。”

7
A conversation in the night

I arrived back at the house with only twenty minutes to get ready for dinner — and to slip into Laura's room to say that the letters were safely in Fanny's hands.

Laura looked pale. 'I'm not coming down to dinner,' she said. 'Sir Percival came to my door, shouting at me to tell him where Anne Catherick is.'

'At least that means he hasn't found her yet,' I said.

At dinner the Count looked hot and red in the face, and his clothes were a little untidy. Had he been out too, I wondered? He seemed troubled by some secret annoyance or anxiety, and was almost as silent as Sir Percival. At the end of the meal, when Madame Fosco and I left the table, the Count stood up too.

'Where are you going, Fosco?' Sir Percival said. 'Sit down and have another glass of wine. I want a quiet talk with you.'

'Not now, Percival. Later,' he answered.

Earlier in the day I had heard Sir Percival make the same request, and this was the second time the Count had postponed the talk. Why, I wondered? And what was it that Sir Percival wanted to discuss so urgently?

We went into the living room and Madame Fosco, usually so slow and deliberate in her movements, drank her tea at great speed and then slipped quietly out of the room. I began to leave too, but the Count stopped me, first by a request for more tea, then by asking my opinion on some music, and then by playing several noisy Italian songs on the piano. Eventually, I escaped from him and went up to Laura's room. Had she seen or heard anything of Madame Fosco, I asked? No, she had not. We talked together till ten o'clock, and then I went downstairs again to say goodnight. Sir Percival, the Count and his wife were sitting together in the living room. I noticed that Madame Fosco's face was now hot and red. Where had she been, and what had she been doing? As I looked at her, she gave a little smile, as though at some private joke.

I said goodnight to everybody, and as I left the room, I heard Sir Percival say impatiently to the Count, 'Come outside and have a smoke, Fosco.'

'With pleasure, Percival, when all the ladies have gone to bed,' replied the Count.

Up in my room, I could not stop myself thinking about this private discussion between Sir Percival and the Count, postponed all day and now, it seemed, about to take place in the silence and loneliness of the night. After a while, I went from my bedroom into my sitting room, and closed the door between the rooms. It was dark, as no candles were lit, and I looked out of the open window for some time, down into the blackness of the garden. There was a smell like rain in the still, heavy air.

Suddenly I saw two red points of light advancing in the dark and stopping below my bedroom window, inside which a candle was burning. One red point was small, the other was big. The Count smoking a cigarette, and Sir Percival smoking a cigar, I think. They could not see me in the darkness of my sitting room, so I waited to hear what they said.

'Why don't you come in and sit down?' Sir Percival said.

'Wait till we see that light go out,' replied the Count. 'When I know she's in bed, and I have checked the rooms on each side of the library, then we will talk.'

Such secrecy! I decided I must listen to this conversation, in spite of the Count's efforts to keep it private. The idea terrified me, but Laura's happiness — perhaps even her life — might depend on what I heard. How could I do it? I realized I could get out on to the flat verandah roof which ran past the bedrooms, about three feet below the windows. It was narrow, but there was room to move along it till I was above the library window. The Count and Sir Percival usually sat near the open window, smoking, and if they did, I would be able to hear them from above.

I went back to my bedroom, put on a long dark cloak with a hood, and put out the candle. Then, after a while, I returned to my sitting room and climbed out of the window on to the verandah roof. My heart began to beat very fast. I had to pass five windows — four were dark, but the fifth window was the Countess's room, and it looked out over the exact place above the library where I planned to sit. And there was still a light in it. I crept along the roof, then went down on my hands and knees to pass her window. As I passed, I looked up — and saw her shadow against the thin curtains at the window...

I stop breathing. Has she heard me? Will she look out? No, the shadow moves away, she's gone. Now I move to my position at the edge of the roof and begin to listen. Are they there, or have they gone elsewhere for their talk? Ah, I can hear the Count's voice.

'Miss Halcombe's light is out, the rooms next door are empty, the only window with a light in is my wife's — so now we may talk. We are at a serious crisis in our affairs, Percival, and we must decide about the future tonight.'

'It's a worse crisis than you think,' growls Sir Percival.

'Listen, Percival. This is our situation. We both came to this house in need of money and the only way of getting it was with the help of your wife. Now what did I tell you? I told you never to lose your temper with her, and especially never with her sister, Miss Halcombe. And have you remembered this? Not once. Your mad temper lost your wife's signature, lost the ready money, made Miss Halcombe write to the lawyer for the first time —'

'First time! Has she written again?'

'Yes, she has written again today.'

What! How does he know that? Did he follow me to the hotel? But even if he did, he couldn't have seen the letters — they went straight from my hand to Fanny's dress. So how does he know?

'You're lucky,' the Count continues, 'that you have me in the house to undo the harm that you do. Lucky that I said no when you were mad enough to make your wife a prisoner and keep her from Miss Halcombe. Can't you see that Miss Halcombe has the courage and understanding of a man? How I admire that woman! But she stands like a rock between us and that pretty little wife of yours. Now, the money. We have obtained a loan — a horribly expensive loan — by signing a document promising to repay it in three months. When the time comes, is there really no way to repay the money except by the help of your wife?'

'None.'

'What money do you actually get from your wife at present?'

'Only the income from her twenty thousand pounds.'

'Do you expect any more from your wife?'

'Absolutely nothing — except in the case of her death.'

'Aha! In the case of her death.'

A pause. It has begun to rain, and already I feel wet and cold.

Sir Percival again. 'If she leaves no children, I get her twenty thousand pounds.'

'Percival! Do you care about your wife?'

'Fosco! That's a very direct question.'

'Let's say your wife dies before the end of the summer — '

'Forget it, Fosco!'

'You would gain twenty thousand pounds.'

'Speak for yourself as well as for me, Fosco. You would also gain — my wife's death would be ten thousand pounds in your wife's pocket.'

'Percival, here is the position. If your wife lives, you pay that debt with her signature on the document. If your wife dies, you pay the debt with her death.'

The light in Madame Fosco's room goes out, and the verandah roof is now sunk in darkness. The rain continues. I Listen with every nerve in my body, memorizing word after word.

'Percival, you must now leave this matter in my hands. I have more than two months to find the solution, so let's not talk about it any more. Let me help you with your other difficulty — the difficulty that seems to have the name of Anne Catherick.'

'Look, Fosco, we may be friends, but we still have our secrets. This does not concern you. Please don't ask me about it.'

'My friend, I can respect a secret. So I won't ask you to tell me. But can I help you all the same?'

'If I don't find Anne Catherick, I'm a lost man. Both she and her mother know this — this secret. It could ruin me, Fosco. Anne Catherick has spoken to my wife and I'm sure she's told her.'

'But as your wife, surely it's in her interest to keep it a secret?'

'If she loved me, that would be true. But she's in love with someone she met before we married, a drawing teacher called Walter Hartright. And who helped Anne Catherick escape from the asylum? Hartright. Who saw her again in Cumberland? Hartright. He knows the secret, and my wife knows the secret. If they get together, they will use it against me.'

'Yes, yes, I see. Where is Mr Hartright?'

'Out of the country. He sailed for America.'

'Don't worry, then. I will deal with him if he ever comes back. Depend on it. But first we must find Anne Catherick. What about her mother? Can she be trusted?'

'It's in her interest not to tell anyone the secret.'

'Good. Now, how will I recognize Anne Catherick?'

'Easily. She's the pale, sickly likeness of my wife.'

A noise as a chair is pushed back. The Count has jumped to his feet and is walking about. He seems amazed.

'What!!! Are she and your wife related to each other?'

'Not at all.'

'And yet so alike? Well, I will know her when I see her.'

'What the devil are you laughing about, Fosco?'

'Just a thought, my good friend, just a thought. But enough for tonight. You will pay the debt and find Anne Catherick. I promise you. You can put your mind at rest, Percival.'

Not another word is spoken. I hear the library door close. I am wet to the skin, stiff and aching with the cold. At first I can't move, but slowly, painfully, I creep back to my window and climb in. As I fall on the floor, I hear the clock strike a quarter past one. Time passes. Somehow I manage to get up and put on dry clothes. I am burning hot — and shivering with cold. I know I must write down what I have heard, so I find paper and pen and write without stopping. The fever rises in me, burning, burning. I open the window for cool air...

Eight o'clock. Bright sunshine, which hammers at my eyes. My head aches, my bones ache, my skin burns, yet I cannot stop shivering. I lie down to sleep, my writing finished, and in my fever I see Count Fosco come into my room and read the pages I have written. He smiles. I am helpless — unable to move, speak, breathe... and I sink into the long, black night of illness...


untidy adj. not neat or orderly 不整齐的

deliberate adj. leisurely, unhurried 不慌不忙的

impatiently adv. lacking patience or tolerance 不耐烦地;着急地

go out put out 吹灭;熄灭

verandah n. an open area with a floor and a roof that is built on the side of a house on the ground floor 游廊

crisis n. time of danger or difficulty 危机

understanding n. the ability to understand or think 见识

memorize v. commit to memory 记住

in her interest as something that is advantageous to her 对她有利

hammer at inflict pain at 使疼痛

7.深夜密谈

我回到庄园时,只剩20分钟就要吃晚餐了——我还得溜进劳拉的房间,告诉她信已经安全地交给范妮了。

劳拉脸色苍白。“我不下楼吃晚饭了,”她说,“珀西瓦尔爵士刚来过,站在门口朝我大喊,要我告诉他安妮·凯瑟里克在哪儿。”

“这起码说明他还没找到她。”我说。

吃晚饭的时候,福斯科伯爵满脸通红,衣服也有些不整。他也出去了吗,我心里疑惑。他似乎有什么秘密的困扰,几乎和珀西瓦尔爵士一样一言不发。吃罢饭,伯爵夫人和我往外走的时候,伯爵也站起身。

“你去哪里,福斯科?”珀西瓦尔爵士问道,“坐下再喝一杯。我要同你单独谈一谈。”

“现在不行,珀西瓦尔。以后吧。”伯爵回答。

白天的时候我也听到珀西瓦尔爵士提出同样的要求,这是一天之内伯爵第二次推迟和珀西瓦尔谈话了。为什么呢?我不明白。珀西瓦尔爵士这么着急要和伯爵谈什么呢?

我们走进客厅,平常总是慢条斯理的伯爵夫人迅速地喝完茶,不声不响地走了出去。我也朝外面走,但是伯爵叫住了我。他先是要我帮他添茶,然后又问我对某些音乐的看法,还在钢琴上弹了几首闹哄哄的意大利曲子。最后,我才得以离开他,来到劳拉的房间。我问她有没有看见伯爵夫人或是听见她的动静?她说没有。我们俩一直聊到10点,我下楼跟大家道晚安。珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵夫妇都在客厅坐着。我注意到伯爵夫人的脸通红。她刚才去哪儿了,干什么去了?看到我在打量她,伯爵夫人笑了笑,好像我们两个私下开过什么玩笑似的。

我同大家道了晚安。离开客厅的时候,我听见珀西瓦尔爵士不耐烦地对伯爵说:“到外面来抽支烟,福斯科。”

“好的,珀西瓦尔。等女士们都去睡了以后。”伯爵说。

回到楼上的房间,我还在想珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵的密谈,拖了一天,到现在终于要在寂静的夜晚进行了。过了一会儿,我从卧室来到我的客厅,把房门关好。房间漆黑一片,没有点蜡烛。我透过窗子向外望了一会儿,外面的花园一片黑暗,宁静、潮湿的空气中有一种雨的味道。

突然,我看到黑暗中有两个红色的亮点在移动,然后在我卧室的窗下停住了,我卧室里点着一支蜡烛。一个亮点小,另一个大些。我想肯定是伯爵在抽烟卷,珀西瓦尔爵士在抽雪茄。我的客厅是黑的,他们看不见我。因此,我在客厅等着听他们说什么。

“为什么不进屋,坐下来谈?”珀西瓦尔爵士说。

“等到那蜡烛灭了再说,”伯爵说,“等她睡了,我再查看一下书房两边的房间,然后我们再谈。”

那么机密!不管伯爵怎样保密,我一定要听听这场谈话。这个想法使我很害怕,但是劳拉的幸福——甚或她的生命——可能都跟我听到的内容有关。我怎么去偷听呢?我想到可以从游廊的平顶上过去,平顶连着好几间卧室,比窗户大约低3英尺。顶子很窄,但还是可以过去,到达书房窗户的上面。伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士经常坐在敞开的窗子旁抽烟,如果是这样的话,我就可以从上面偷听他们的谈话了。

我回到卧室,穿上一件长长的带有兜帽的黑色斗篷,吹灭了蜡烛。呆了一会儿,我回到客厅,爬出窗户来到游廊的平顶上。我的心跳开始加速。我必须爬过五个窗子,其中四个已经没有了亮光,可第五个是伯爵夫人的房间,那儿恰好在书房上面,正是我要偷听的地方。而且,伯爵夫人的房间里还亮着烛光。我沿着平顶往前移动,然后手脚并用地爬过她的窗子。经过她窗下时,我抬头看了看——透过薄薄的窗帘看见她在窗前的身影……

我屏住呼吸。她是不是听见我在这儿了?她会向外看吗?没有,影子移开了,她走了。我来到平顶的边上,找好了偷听的位置。他们在这儿吗?会不会到别的地方去谈?啊,我听见伯爵的声音了。

“哈尔库姆小姐房间的蜡烛灭了,这两边的房间没人,唯一有亮光的窗户是我妻子的房间——好了,我们现在可以谈了。珀西瓦尔,我们的事现在出现了严重危机,今晚我们必须计划一下该怎么办。”

“事情比你想的还要糟。”珀西瓦尔爵士嘀咕着。

“听着,珀西瓦尔。这就是我们两人的处境。我们都是为了钱才到这个庄园来的,而得到钱的唯一途径是通过你的妻子。我跟你说过什么?我告诉你千万不要跟你妻子发脾气,尤其不能和她姐姐哈尔库姆小姐发脾气。可是你记住了吗?根本没有。你的坏脾气让我们失去了你妻子的签字,到手的钱没了,还让哈尔库姆小姐给律师写了第一封信——”

“第一封信?她又写信了吗?”

“是的,她今天又写信了。”

什么!他是怎么知道的?他是不是跟踪我去了旅店?但是就算他去了,也不会看到那两封信的——信是直接从我手里到了范妮的衣服里的。那他是怎么知道的呢?

“你很走运,”伯爵接着说,“有我在这儿帮你解决麻烦。你很走运,在你发疯一样把你的妻子当犯人关起来,不让她见哈尔库姆小姐的时候,我出来阻拦了你。你看不出来吗?哈尔库姆小姐具有男人一样的勇气和见识,我非常敬佩她!但是,她就像挡在我们和你那漂亮小妻子之间的一块巨石。现在说钱的问题。我们得到了一笔贷款——一笔代价极大的贷款——我们签了字,答应三个月后还钱。到时候,除了靠你妻子就没有任何办法还钱了吗?”

“没有。”

“你现在从你妻子那儿可以得到什么钱?”

“只有她那20,000英镑带来的收入。”

“你还能从你妻子身上得到更多的钱吗?”

“一分都没有——除非她死了”

“呵!除非她死了。”

谈话暂停了。天开始下雨,我感到身上又湿又冷。

珀西瓦尔爵士接着说:“如果她没留下孩子,我可以得到她那20,000英镑。”

“珀西瓦尔!你真的在乎你妻子吗?”

“福斯科!这个问题太直接了。”

“假如你妻子在夏末死去——”

“别说了,福斯科!”

“你会得到20,000英镑。”

“别光说我,还有你,福斯科。你也会受益,妻子死了,妻子口袋里就会装进10,000英镑。”

“珀西瓦尔,这就是现在的局面。如果你妻子活着,你需要得到她签字来还债;如果你妻子死了,你就用她的死来还债。”

福斯科夫人房间的烛光熄灭了,游廊顶上一团漆黑。雨还在下。我全神贯注地听着,把每个字都记在心里。

“珀西瓦尔,你现在必须把这件事交给我来办,我有两个多月的时间去想办法,现在咱们先不谈这个。让我来帮你解决另一个麻烦——那个好像和安妮·凯瑟里克这个名字有关的麻烦。”

“瞧,福斯科,我们或许是朋友,但我们都有各自的秘密。这件事与你无关。请你不要问我这件事。”

“我的朋友,我可以尊重你的秘密。我不问你的秘密是什么,但不管怎么说,我能帮你点儿什么吗?”

“假如找不到安妮·凯瑟里克,我就完了。她和她母亲都知道那个——那个秘密。那个秘密会毁了我,福斯科。安妮·凯瑟里克找过我妻子,我敢肯定她已经把秘密告诉我妻子了。”

“可是,作为你的妻子,保守这个秘密不也对她有好处吗?”

“如果她爱我,应该是这样的。但是,她爱上了一个她在我们结婚以前认识的人,一个叫沃尔特·哈特里特的绘画教师。是谁帮助安妮·凯瑟里克从精神病院逃走的?是哈特里特。又是谁在坎伯兰郡跟她见面?还是哈特里特。他知道这个秘密,我妻子也知道这个秘密。要是他们两个聚到一块儿,肯定利用这个秘密来对付我。”

“说的对,说的对,我明白了。哈特里特先生现在在哪儿?”

“在国外。他去美洲了。”

“那就不用担心了。他要是回来,我来对付他。你放心。不过我们还是要先找到安妮·凯瑟里克。她母亲呢?可信吗?”

“保守这个秘密对她有好处。”

“很好。不过我怎么才能认出安妮·凯瑟里克来?”

“这容易。她长得很像我妻子,只是脸色苍白,面容憔悴。”

我听见向后移动椅子的声响。伯爵站了起来,在屋里来回走动着,他显得非常惊讶。

alt

“什么!她跟你妻子有亲戚关系吗?”

“一点儿没有。”

“那就这么相像?我见到她会认出来的。”

“你到底在笑什么,福斯科?”

“只是一个想法,我的好朋友,一个想法而己。不过今晚就谈到这儿。你会还清债务,找到安妮·凯瑟里克的。我敢保证。你就放心吧,珀西瓦尔。”

谈话结束了。我听到书房的门关上了。我身上已经湿透,身体被冻得又僵又疼。起初整个人都动不了。我艰难地慢慢爬回我的窗边,爬进屋里。我跳到地板上时,听见钟响了,1点一刻。时间过得真快。我挣扎着起来,换上干衣服。我浑身发烫——同时也冷得打哆嗦。我明白我必须把听到的全都写下来,于是找出纸笔,开始不停地写起来。我烧得越来越厉害,浑身好像着了火。我打开窗户,让冷空气进来……

8点了。明媚的阳光使我的眼睛隐隐作痛。我头痛得非常厉害,全身酸痛,而且发烫,还不停地打哆嗦。我躺下睡觉,记录已经写完了。迷迷糊糊地,我看见福斯科伯爵进到我的房间,看了我写的东西。他笑了笑。我毫无办法——不能动,不能说话,不能呼吸……我陷入长长的昏迷,眼前一片黑暗……

8
Fever

While I lay unconscious in my illness, I knew nothing, of course, of the events happening around me. It was only much later that I learnt from other people what had happened.

When I eventually returned to Limmeridge, Fanny told me about the letters and the night she had left Blackwater.

'You left me at about seven, miss, and at nine o'clock I had another visitor — the Countess! Yes, I was so surprised. But she was very kind. She saw that I was upset at leaving and insisted on having some tea with me. So I drank my tea, and five minutes later I fainted — for the first time in my life! When I woke up, it was about half an hour later. A lady from the hotel was looking after me as the Countess had had to go home. I checked the letters in my dress, miss, and they were both there, quite safe.

'And just as you told me, in London I posted the letter to Mr Kyrle, and as soon as I got to Limmeridge, I delivered the other letter personally to Mr Fairlie. I told him all about being dismissed by Sir Percival and everything, and what had happened at the hotel, but, well, he didn't seem very interested, miss.'

That last piece of information did not surprise me in the least. Had Laura's uncle ever been interested in anybody except himself? When I went to talk to him, he was full of excuses.

'My nerves, dear Marian, remember my nerves! Yes, of course I will tell you about the letters, but please don't get excited and go around banging doors! Try to stay calm.'

'I suppose my letter about Laura upset you,' I said.

'Of course it did, dear Marian! What was I to do? You told me Laura needed to escape from her husband and to come to Limmeridge. But suppose Sir Percival had come after her? Think of the noise, the arguments, the banging of doors! That's why I wrote to you, to beg you to come here first by yourself, to talk the matter over with me.'

I never saw that letter, of course, as it arrived at Blackwater when I was unconscious with fever.

'And Mr Kyrle wrote to you as well, didn't he?' I said.

'Yes. He wrote to say he had received an envelope addressed to him in your handwriting, but which contained only a plain piece of paper without a word on it. He had written to you about it, and had received no reply. Why he expected me to explain this mystery, I had no idea. And that's what I told him.'

So helpful, I thought bitterly. But there was no point in saying anything. 'And were you surprised not to hear from me again?'

'Indeed I was, until my sister's foreign husband, that extraordinary Count Fosco, came to see me. Such a huge man!' said Mr Fairlie, his eyes closing at the memory. 'But surprisingly quiet on his feet. Anyway, he explained how ill you were, dear Marian, which was why you hadn't replied to my letter. I was extremely shocked and sorry to hear about your illness. But the Count did talk so much — I thought he would never leave!'

'And he persuaded you to write to Laura,' I said, trying to keep my voice calm and quiet.

'Yes, he urged me — in fact, practically ordered me — to invite Laura here at once. She was too nervous and upset to be of any use to you in the sick-room, he said, and the situation with Sir Percival was growing more dangerous every day. There was no trouble with the journey, because he and his wife had just rented a house in London. So Laura could travel up to London, stay the night with them, and travel on to Cumberland the next day.'

'So you wrote the letter and gave it to him,' I said.

'Where was the harm in it? In any case, I never for a moment thought that Laura would leave you alone when you were so ill. And how was I to know what shocking event was about to take place? No one could possibly say that I was to blame …'

*  *  *

I know now exactly who was to blame, but it took quite a time to put all the different pieces of information together. When I first began to be aware of my surroundings again during my recovery, I knew nothing, of course, about the letters. I knew only that I was not in my usual bedroom and there was a foreign lady looking after me. I had no idea who she was and she would not answer any of my questions. So I was very relieved a few days later when the familiar face of Mrs Michelson appeared.

'Oh, Mrs Michelson,' I said, 'I'm so glad to see you. Please tell me what's been happening.'

'You've had typhus fever, Miss Halcombe. You've been very ill. But you're getting stronger now, I'm happy to say.'

'Typhus! No wonder I feel so weak. And my sister, Lady Glyde — I do hope she didn't catch the infection?'

'No, no, she didn't.'

Mrs Michelson would not look me in the face, and I began to feel worried. Was she afraid to tell me something?

'Is my sister ill? Please, Mrs Michelson, I must know!'

'No, she's not ill. But... but she's not here. She went away yesterday to London, and is going on to Limmeridge today.'

I stared at her. Laura gone? I could not believe it. What did it mean? Had something terrible happened? I remembered the conversation I heard during the night on the verandah roof, and my heart filled with fear.

'And Sir Percival …?' I could not finish my question.

'Sir Percival left the house last night, to go abroad,' she said. 'The Count and Countess have gone to London, and the servants have all been dismissed, except for a cook and the gardener. You and I are the only people living in the house, Miss Halcombe.'

The shock of this news was so great that I felt faint. Mrs Michelson hurried to fetch me a glass of water.

'Oh, Miss Halcombe, I'm sorry,' she said. 'Try not to worry. You must rest now, and try to sleep a little.'

Later, when I felt stronger, we talked again. 'Tell me everything you can remember, from the day I fell ill,' I begged Mrs Michelson. 'I must know what happened.'

'Well, Miss Halcombe, on that first morning a servant found you, lying on your bed in a fever, holding a pen tightly in your hand. The doctor was called at once, a Mr Dawson, who said you were very ill. The Countess and I acted as your nurses — Lady Glyde wanted to help, but she was so upset at seeing you unconscious that she couldn't stop crying.

'Sir Percival and the Count were concerned about you too, though they seemed worried about something else as well. In fact, the Count spent three days down by the lake, at that old boat-house, and I remember he came in once when I was going through the hall. Sir Percival came rushing out of the library, saying, "Have you found her?" I didn't hear the answer and I have no idea who they were talking about.'

I had a very good idea who they were talking about, but it was obvious that Mrs Michelson didn't, so I said nothing.

'Your fever got worse,' Mrs Michelson went on. 'The Count said we needed a nurse to help us, so Madame Fosco took the train to London and came back with Mrs Rubelle.'

'Is that the foreign lady who was looking after me before you appeared, Mrs Michelson?' I asked.

'Yes, that's right. She didn't say very much, but she was a capable nurse. I had no complaints about her work. Mr Dawson, the doctor, was suspicious of her because she was recommended by the Count, and he didn't like the Count at all.'

'Why was that?' I asked.

'The Count had a lot of medical knowledge, you see, and he was always suggesting to Mr Dawson ways of reducing your fever. Mr Dawson called it interference and got quite angry about it. But in fact, miss, the Count recognized you had typhus fever before Mr Dawson did. He — the Count, that is — went away to London for a week, and when he came back, he took one look at you and said "Typhus". Mr Dawson sent to London for another doctor, who came and said the same thing. Then we had a very worrying ten days, when your life was in danger, but at last the doctor said you were through the worst and with good nursing care you would recover. Lady Glyde was so overcome by this happy news that she became ill herself and had to be put to bed.'

'My sister has always had delicate health,' I said.

'Yes, she's not strong. Anyway, Miss Halcombe, it was at this point that disturbing things started to happen. First, the Count and Mr Dawson argued again so fiercely that Mr Dawson left, saying he refused to offer his services any more. Next, Sir Percival told me that he was going to close the house. As soon as you and Lady Glyde were able to travel, he said, you would be going away for a change of air. He told me to dismiss all the servants, except a girl to do the cooking, and a gardener. Imagine! Just like that! I tell you, Miss Halcombe, if I hadn't felt so sorry for you and Lady Glyde, I would have resigned at once!

'The last thing was very strange indeed,' said Mrs Michelson, shaking her head. 'Sir Percival said that you and Lady Glyde would benefit from a stay at the seaside town of Torquay. He told me to go there to look for a suitable house to rent, and told me how much money I could pay. Well, I knew it wasn't enough, and I wish now that I hadn't gone, but he was my employer so I thought I had to obey his orders. I returned yesterday, after two days away, and told Sir Percival that it was impossible to find a house at such a low rent. Sir Percival showed no interest in my news at all. He just said that the Count and Countess had left Blackwater Park for their new house in London.'

Mrs Michelson looked at me anxiously. 'I think you'll find the next part of the story very upsetting,' she said. 'Poor Lady Glyde was cruelly deceived by her husband.'

'You don't surprise me,' I murmured. 'Please go on.'

'After seeing Sir Percival, I went upstairs to see you and Lady Glyde. Your sister, though still very weak, was feeling better and wanted to get up and go and visit you in your room. I helped her to dress and as we went down the passage, we met Sir Percival.

'"If you're going to see your sister, you won't find her," Sir Percival says. "She left the house yesterday with Fosco and his wife. She decided to go with them to London, on her way to Limmeridge. Mrs Rubelle went too, to look after her on the journey. You can look in her room if you don't believe me."

'I was shocked and amazed by this, and Lady Glyde's face went as white as a sheet. She almost ran down the passage and threw open the door to your room. It was empty.

'Then she cries out to Sir Percival, "Marian was much too ill to travel. Even if she did go, she would never leave without saying goodbye to me first. And why would she go to Limmeridge alone, leaving me here at Blackwater Park?"

'"Because your uncle won't receive you till he has seen your sister first," says Sir Percival. "Have you forgotten the letter he wrote to her at the beginning of her illness?"

'All through this interview, Miss Halcombe, I thought Sir Percival seemed very strange — jumpy and nervous, not at all his usual self. And now he just turned and walked away. Lady Glyde was shaking with fear, and looked at me with terror in her eyes. "Something's happened to my sister. I must follow her — I must see that she's alive and well with my own eyes. Please, Mrs Michelson, come down with me to Sir Percival. Stay with me, please!" She held my arm so tightly that I had to go with her.

'Sir Percival was in the dining room, drinking. He drank at least four glasses of wine while we were in there, Miss Halcombe. Lady Glyde was very brave, I thought. She said, "If my sister is well enough to travel, then so am I. Please allow me to follow her at once by the afternoon train."

'Sir Percival was so rude and rough with her. "You can go tomorrow," he said. "I'll write to Fosco. He can meet you at the station and you'll stay at his house overnight."

'Lady Glyde's hand began to tremble violently on my arm. "I would rather not stay at the Count's house," she said.

'Sir Percival then got very angry. "Why not?" he shouted." What's wrong with sleeping at your aunt's house? Your sister slept there last night to break her journey, and so will you. That's what your uncle, Mr Fairlie, wants you to do as well. Here — there's a letter from him. I forgot to send it up to you."

'Poor Lady Glyde was shaking so much that she gave me the letter to read to her. It was very short. I remember it, word for word: Dear Laura, please come whenever you like. Break the journey by sleeping at your aunt's house. Sorry to hear of Marian's illness. Your fond uncle, Frederick Fairlie.

'Lady Glyde didn't try to argue any more, and we went back upstairs. It seemed quite a sensible plan to me, Miss Halcombe, and I couldn't understand why Lady Glyde was so terrified of Count Fosco. She walked up and down her room, whispering, "Poor Marian — in that horrible man's power! I must find her, even if I have to follow her to Count Fosco's house."

'The next day I helped Lady Glyde get ready and went with her to the station. "If Marian has already left for Limmeridge, I won't stay at the Count's house," she told me. "I'll go and stay with Mrs Vesey, my old governess." As the train pulled away, I saw her pale, frightened face at the window. I felt so sad for her.

'Then I came back here. Imagine my surprise, Miss Halcombe, when I saw Mrs Rubelle walking in the garden! "What are you doing here?" I said. "You went to London with the Foscos and Miss Halcombe!" And then it all came out. You were still in the house. While I was out of the way in Torquay, they moved you to a room in an unused part of the house and kept you hidden. You must have been in a very deep sleep when they moved you. Perhaps they drugged you — I don't know. Then Sir Percival appeared and gave me this explanation. It was all for his wife's own good, he said. She needed a change of air, and would not have gone to Limmeridge if she had known that you were still in the house. He spoke in such a violent, angry way that I did not dare to express my opinion.

'So you see, Miss Halcombe, that was how poor Lady Glyde was deceived. It was wicked and cruel. I would have resigned my position immediately, but Sir Percival told me that Mrs Rubelle was leaving and there would be no one to look after you if I left too. So, naturally, I stayed. Sir Percival left last night, as I told you. The gardener said he seemed half mad. He called for his carriage, and drove away like an escaped criminal, saying his house was a prison and he would never return to it. I hope and pray, Miss Halcombe, that I never see that man again.'

Poor Laura — how she must have suffered! There was nothing I could do. I could not go after her as I was too weak even to stand. I hoped desperately that she had found out about the deception and would write soon to tell me that she was safe.

*  *  *

A letter came a few days later, but it was not for me, and not from Laura. It was for Mrs Michelson from Madame Fosco.

Mrs Michelson came into my room with the letter in her hand. Mr Dawson, who had agreed to be my doctor again now that the Count had gone, was behind her. I took one look at both their faces, and sat up in bed, terrified.

'What is it?' I gasped. 'You have some dreadful news for me. I can see it in your faces.'

Mrs Michelson sat down on the edge of the bed and took my hand. 'Your poor, dear sister, Lady Glyde...' she began.

The room began to darken around me, as though night was falling, and the words seemed to come from a great distance.

'... was taken seriously ill when she arrived at her aunt's house in London, and died the next day, very suddenly. She is to be buried at Limmeridge, in her mother's grave.'

*  *  *

Kind Mrs Michelson nursed me through my second illness, with Mr Dawson's help. I was not able to travel for more than three weeks, but eventually I found the strength to leave that hated house and return to Limmeridge. Mrs Michelson and I travelled together to London, where I went to see Mr Kyrle. To him I revealed the terrible suspicions in my mind about the circumstances of my sister's death. He was most concerned and promised to make enquiries for me.

I went on to Limmeridge House and a few days later Mr Kyrle wrote to me there. He had taken statements from several witnesses, he said, and was convinced that nothing suspicious had happened. He sent copies of the statements for my information. This was the one by the Count's cook, Mrs Hester Pinhorn:


I was recently employed as a cook by the Count and Countess Fosco at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. One day near the end of July, the Countess's niece, Lady Glyde, arrived at the house. She immediately fell ill. I saw her lying on the sofa, her face all white. I ran out for a doctor and came back with Mr Goodricke. He examined her and said she had a very serious heart disease. During the night she got worse. Then, at about five o'clock the next day, she lost consciousness. The doctor went in and, after putting his hand on her heart, announced that she was dead. He said that, as the Count was a foreigner, he himself would go to record the death at the district office. The Count and Countess were very badly affected by the lady's death. The lady's husband was abroad, so they arranged the funeral themselves, which took place in Cumberland.


I was still very weak from my long illness, and despair nearly overtook me at this point. I had no friend to turn to, and no idea what to do next. I went every day to the churchyard, to put flowers on the grave and to read again those sad, sad words.


In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde

Wife of Sir Percival Glyde, of Blackwater Park, Hampshire

Born 27th March 1829

Died 25th July 1850


personally adv. in person 亲自

practically adv. almost 几乎

rent v. use at a rent

typhus n. a serious infectious disease 斑疹伤寒

catch the infection be affected by the infectious disease 被传染

be through have passed 度过

fiercely adv. violently 激烈地

obey v. carry out a command 服从

jumpy adj. making sudden movements 躁动的

pull away (of a train ) leave (火车)离开;开走

drug v. to give someone a drug, esp in order to make them feel tired or go to sleep 用药麻醉

for one's good for one's interest 为了……的利益;为了……好

be convinced be certain that something is true 确信

announce v. make publicly known 宣布

overtake v. overwhelm 击垮

8.高烧

我在床上昏睡着,对周围发生了什么当然一无所知。很长时间以后,我才从别人那里得知出了什么事。

后来,我回到利默里奇,范妮告诉我那两封信的事以及她离开布莱克沃特那天晚上发生的事情。

“你从我那儿走的时候是7点钟,9点钟又来了一位客人——是伯爵夫人!没错,我非常吃惊。但她特别和善。她看出我在为离开而难过,就坚持要和我喝茶。我喝了茶,5分钟后就晕过去了——这可是我头一回晕过去!我醒的时候已经过了大约半小时。旅店的一位女士在照看我,伯爵夫人已经回去了。我检查衣服里的信,两封信都在,很安全。

“我照你说的,在伦敦把给克尔先生的信寄了出去,一到利默里奇,就把另一封信亲自交给了费尔利先生。我告诉他,我被珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了,还有在那边发生了什么以及旅店的事情,但是他好像对这些都没什么兴趣,小姐。”

对最后一点,我丝毫不觉得奇怪。劳拉的这个叔叔,除了对他自己的事还对什么有兴趣?我去找他谈的时候,他满嘴借口。

“我的神经,亲爱的玛丽安,别忘了我的神经不好!是的,我当然会告诉你信的事,可是请你不要激动,不要总那么使劲儿关门!请你保持冷静。”

“我想我写给你关于劳拉的信让你担心了吧。”我说。

“当然让我担心了,亲爱的玛丽安!我该怎么做呢?你说劳拉需要逃离她丈夫,回到利默里奇来。但是,如果珀西瓦尔爵士随后过来找她怎么办?想想那会有多少噪音、吵闹、摔门声!这就是我为什么给你写信,叫你自己先回来,跟我谈谈这件事。”

我当然没见过那封信,因为信到布莱克沃特的时候,我正发着高烧,昏睡不醒。

“克尔先生也给你写信了,是吗?”我问。

“是的,他写信给我说,他收到一个署名给他的信封,是你的笔迹,但是里面只有一张白纸,一个字也没有。他给你写过信,但没收到回音。我不明白他为什么叫解释这个迷,我就这么跟他说的。”

真是挺帮忙的,我心里恨恨地想。现在说什么也没用了。“再没接到我的来信,你不感到奇怪吗?”

“我的确感到奇怪,直到我的那个外国妹夫,福斯科伯爵过来看我,我才明白发生了什么。他可真胖!”费尔利先生闭上眼睛,陷入回忆之中,“但是他走路却很轻。他告诉我你病得非常厉害,所以没有回信。听说你生病我非常震惊,也很难过。可是,伯爵没完没了地跟我说话——我简直觉得他不想走了!”

“是他让你给劳拉写信的吧。”我尽量用平和的语气说。

“是的,他请求我——实际上是命令我——让劳拉马上回到这儿来。他说劳拉非常紧张害怕,在你的房间里也帮不了什么忙。而且珀西瓦尔爵士一天比一天危险。旅途中不会有问题,因为他和妻子刚刚在伦敦租了一栋房子,劳拉可以先到伦敦,在他们那里住一晚,第二天再赶往坎伯兰郡。”

“所以,你就写了那封信,让他拿走了?”我问。

“这有什么不好吗?不管怎样,我根本不相信劳拉会在你病重的时候丢下你不管。而且我怎么知道将要发生什么事?谁也不能把事情怪到我头上……”

*  *  *

现在我知道究竟是谁在搞鬼了,但是把各种消息都串起来颇费了一些时间。我刚从昏迷中醒来,注意到周围的时候,对信的事自然一无所知。我只知道自己不在原来的卧室,一位外国女士在旁边照顾我。我不知道她是谁,她也不回答我的任何问题。因此,几天后当米切尔森太太熟悉的脸出现在我面前时,我大大地松了一口气。

“噢,米切尔森太太,”我说,“见到你真是太高兴了。快告诉我到底发生了什么?”

“你得了斑疹伤寒,哈尔库姆小姐。你病得很厉害。不过,我很高兴你现在恢复得很好。”

“斑疹伤寒!怪不得我这么虚弱。我妹妹,格莱德夫人——我希望她没被传染吧?”

“没有,她没有被传染。”

米切尔森太太不敢正眼看我,我开始担心起来,她是不是害怕告诉我什么事情?

“我妹妹病了吗?米切尔森太太,我必须知道真相!”

“没有,她没病。不过……不过她已经不在这儿了。她昨天去了伦敦,准备今天去利默里奇。”

我盯着她。劳拉走了?我不信。这说明什么呢?出了可怕的事?我记起了在游廊顶上听到的谈话,心里充满了恐惧。

“那珀西瓦尔爵士……?”我无法把话讲完。

“珀西瓦尔爵士昨晚离开庄园,到国外去了,”她说,“伯爵夫妇去了伦敦,仆人们全都遣散了,就剩下一个厨师和一个园丁。庄园里只有你和我了,哈尔库姆小姐。”

这个消息对我的震动太大,我感到一阵眩晕,米切尔森太太赶忙去为我拿了杯水来。

“哦,哈尔库姆小姐,真抱歉,”米切尔森太太说,“你别担心,一定要好好休息,试着睡一会儿吧。”

后来,我身上有些力气了,我们又聊起来。“告诉我,自从我生病那天起都发生了什么?”我恳求米切尔森太太,“我一定要知道出了什么事。”

“好吧,哈尔库姆小姐。头一天早上,一个仆人发现你躺在床上,发着高烧,手里还紧紧握着钢笔。我们很快叫来了一位医生,道森先生。他说你病得很厉害。伯爵夫人和我一起照顾你——格莱德夫人也想帮忙,但是看到你昏迷的样子,她很难过,不住地哭。

“珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵也都为你担心,不过他们两人好像还在为别的事担心。实际上,伯爵在湖边呆了三天,就在那个老船屋里。我记得他有一次回来,我正路过大厅。这时,珀西瓦尔爵士从书房冲出来问他:‘找到她了吗?’我没听到回答,也不知道他们说的是谁。”

我非常清楚他们说的是谁,明显米切尔森太太不知道,所以我没有说话。

“你烧得越来越厉害,”米切尔森太太接着说,“伯爵说我们需要找一个护士帮忙,于是福斯科夫人坐火车去了伦敦,带回了鲁贝尔太太。”

“就是那位在你来之前照顾我的外国女士吗,米切尔森太太?”

“对,就是她。她很少说话,但很能干。我对她干活儿挑不出任何毛病。道森先生,那位医生,对她有怀疑,因为她是伯爵推荐的,而道森先生一点儿也不喜欢伯爵。”

“为什么呢?”我问。

“你知道伯爵懂得许多医学知识,他不断地向道森先生提出给你退烧的办法。道森先生非常生气,说这是干涉他的工作。但实际上,小姐,伯爵比道森先生更早地看出你得了斑疹伤寒。他——我是说伯爵——到伦敦去了一星期,回来后看了你一眼就说是‘斑疹伤寒’。道森先生从伦敦又请来一位医生,也说是斑疹伤寒。接下来的十天我们大家都非常担心,你当时有生命危险。不过最后,医生说你已经度过了危险期,只要得到精心照顾,就会好起来。听到这个好消息,格莱德夫人过于高兴,结果她自己病倒了,不得不卧床休息。”

“我妹妹的身体一直很弱。”我说。

“是的,她的身体不太好。不过,哈尔库姆小姐,就在这个时候,令人心烦的事接二连三地发生了。先是伯爵和道森先生大吵了一架,道森先生走了,他说不愿意再干了。然后,珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我他准备关闭庄园。他说等你和格莱德夫人能出门旅行了,就应该离开这里,换换环境。他让我辞退了所有的仆人,只留下一个女仆做饭,还有一个园丁。真是难以想象!就是这样!我跟你说,哈尔库姆小姐,要不是担心你和格莱德夫人,我当时马上就不干了!

“最后一件事非常奇怪,”米切尔森太太摇摇头接着说,“珀西瓦尔爵士说,你和格莱德夫人到海滨小城托基呆一段时间会对你们有好处。他叫我去那里找一栋合适的房子租下来,还告诉我只能花多少钱。唉,我知道钱不够。我现在真希望没去那个地方,但他是东家,我想我不能不听他的吩咐。我走了两天,昨天回来的。我告诉珀西瓦尔爵士用那么少的钱根本不可能租到房子。他对我的回复一点儿也不感兴趣,只是说伯爵夫妇已经离开布莱克沃特,去伦敦的新居了。”

米切尔森太太不安地看着我。“我想下面的事情一定会让你难过,”她说,“可怜的格莱德夫人让她丈夫骗惨了。”

“我不会感到惊讶的,”我轻声说,“请接着讲。”

“见过了珀西瓦尔爵士,我上楼去看你和格莱德夫人。你妹妹虽说还很虚弱,但已经好多了。她要起来到你的房间看你。我帮她穿好衣服。在走廊里我们碰到了珀西瓦尔爵士。

“‘如果你是去看你的姐姐,你不会找到她了,’珀西瓦尔爵士说,‘她昨天同福斯科夫妇离开了这里。她决定跟他们顺路到伦敦,然后去利默里奇。鲁贝尔太太也走了,她要在路上照看你姐姐。你要是不信我的话,可以到她的房间看看。’

“听到这些,我大吃一惊。格莱德夫人的脸变得煞白。她几乎在走廊里跑起来,一把推开你的房门,里面空无一人。

“然后她冲着珀西瓦尔爵士叫起来:‘玛丽安病得那么厉害,根本不能旅行。即使要去的话,她也不会不跟我道别就走。为什么她要一个人去利默里奇,把我留在布莱克沃特?’

“‘因为你叔叔要先跟你姐姐见面,再见你,’珀西瓦尔爵士说,‘难道你忘了在你姐姐刚病的时候,他写来的信了吗?’

“整个谈话中,哈尔库姆小姐,我觉得珀西瓦尔爵士显得很怪——又烦躁,又紧张,跟平时的他一点儿也不一样。说完,他就转身走开了。格莱德夫人害怕得直哆嗦,她看着我,眼睛里充满了恐惧。‘我姐姐出事了。我必须去找她,我必须亲眼看到她平安无事。米切尔森太太,请和我一起去找珀西瓦尔爵士。请陪我去!’她紧紧地抓着我的胳膊,我只好跟她一起下楼。

“珀西瓦尔爵士在餐厅喝酒,我们在的那一会儿,他就至少喝了四杯,哈尔库姆小姐。我觉得格莱德夫人很勇敢。她说:‘如果姐姐可以旅行,那我也可以。请允许我乘下午的火车去追她。’

“珀西瓦尔爵士对她非常无理、粗暴。‘你可以明天去,’他说,‘我会给福斯科写信。他会到车站接你,你晚上就住他那里。’

“格莱德夫人扶着我胳膊的手开始抖得很厉害。‘我不想住在伯爵家。’她说。

“珀西瓦尔爵士发怒了。‘为什么?’他大声嚷道,‘在你姑妈家过夜有什么不好?你姐姐昨天途中就是在那里过夜的,你也一样。这也是你叔叔费尔利先生的要求。给——这是他的信,我忘了给你了。’

“可怜的格莱德夫人哆嗦得很厉害,她把信交给我,让我念给她听。信很短,我还一字不差地记着:亲爱的劳拉,请在方便的时候回来。途中在姑妈家过夜。听说玛丽安病了,我非常难过。爱你的叔叔,弗雷德里克·费尔利。

“格莱德夫人没有再继续争下去,我们两人回到楼上。我觉得这样做很明智,哈尔库姆小姐,我不明白格莱德夫人为什么那么害怕福斯科伯爵。她在房间里走来走去,轻声自言自语:‘可怜的玛丽安——落到那个可怕的人手里!我一定要找到她,哪怕是到福斯科伯爵家里也要找到她。’

“第二天,我帮格莱德夫人准备好一切,陪她来到车站。‘如果玛丽安已经回利默里奇了,我就不住在伯爵家,’她告诉我,‘我会去找维西夫人,我原来的家庭教师。”火车开的时候,透过车窗我看到她苍白、恐慌的脸。我很为她难过。

“然后我回到这儿,竟然看到鲁贝尔太太在花园散步,哈尔库姆小姐,你知道我有多么惊讶!‘怎么在这儿?’我问,‘你不是和福斯科伯爵一家还有哈尔库姆小姐去伦敦了嘛!’后来事情慢慢都清楚了。你还在庄园。趁我去托基的时候,他们把你搬到了庄园里一个没人住的房间藏起来了。他们搬动你的时候,你肯定在昏睡。也许他们给你吃了药——我不清楚。这时,珀西瓦尔爵士过来给了我如下的解释。他说这一切都是为了他妻子好,她需要换个环境,假如她知道你还在庄园,是不会去利默里奇的。他说话时怒气冲冲的,我没敢说什么。

“你看,哈尔库姆小姐,这就是可怜的格莱德夫人受骗的经过。多么恶毒、多么不近人情。我本来要马上辞职的,但是珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我,鲁贝尔太太要走了,要是我也走的话,就没人照顾你了。这不,我就又留了下来。珀西瓦尔爵士是昨晚离开的,我刚才告诉过你。听园丁说,他跟疯了似的。他吩咐准备马车,然后仿佛落荒而逃的囚犯般驾车走了,嘴里还说什么这个家像个监狱,他再也不想回来了。我真的希望,哈尔库姆小姐,我再也不会见到那个人了。”

可怜的劳拉——她肯定受了很多罪!我现在一点儿办法也没有,也无法去追她,我现在虚弱得站都站不起来。我真的希望劳拉能够发现这个骗局,尽快地给我写信,告诉我她平安无事。

*  *  *

几天后来了一封信,但不是给我的,也不是劳拉写来的,而是福斯科夫人写给米切尔森太太的。

米切尔森太太拿着那封信走进我的房间,后面跟着道森先生,他同意继续为我看病,因为伯爵已经走了。我看到他们两人的神色,从床上坐起来,心里很害怕。

“出了什么事?”我急切地问,“你们有可怕的消息要告诉我。我从你们的脸上能看出来。”

米切尔森太太在我的床边坐下,握住我的手。“你那可怜的、亲爱的妹妹,格莱德夫人……”她说。

我的周围变得一团漆黑,就像夜色降临一样,下面的话似乎是从很遥远的地方传来的。

“……她到伦敦的姑妈家以后就病倒了,第二天就死了,死得非常突然。她将被安葬在利默里奇,她母亲的墓地。”

*  *  *

我又病倒了,好心的米切尔森太太在道森先生的帮助下精心地照顾我。三个多星期的时间里,我都无法出门旅行。但我终于恢复了体力,离开了那个令人憎恨的庄园,回到利默里奇。米切尔森太太和我一同来到伦敦,我去见了克尔先生,向他讲述了我心中对妹妹死因的怀疑。他对这件事很关心,答应为我调查。

我到利默里奇几天后,克尔先生的信也寄到了那里。他从几个证人那里获得了证词,他相信没有任何可疑的事发生。他把证词的副本寄给了我。下面是福斯科的厨师赫斯特·平霍恩太太的笔录:


我是最近受雇于福斯科伯爵夫妇的,他们住在圣约翰伍德,弗雷斯特街5号。快7月底的一天,伯爵夫人的侄女,格莱德夫人来到伯爵家。她很快就病了。我看见她躺在沙发上,脸色苍白。我跑去叫医生,找来了古德里克先生。他给她做了检查,说她得了严重的心脏病。当天夜里,她病情加重。大约第二天早上5点,她失去了知觉。医生进来,用手摸了摸她的胸口,说她已经死了。医生说,因为伯爵是外国人,所以他得亲自到地区办公室报告人口死亡。福斯科伯爵夫妇对格莱德夫人的死非常伤心。格莱德夫人的丈夫在国外,因此他们安排了葬礼的有关事宜,葬礼安排在坎伯兰郡举行。


由于长时间生病,我现在还非常虚弱,此时绝望几乎将我击垮。我找不到什么朋友可以倾诉,茫然不知下面该如何是好。每天我都去教堂墓地,去给劳拉的墓献花,一遍又一遍地读着那些令我心碎的文字。


爱妻劳拉·格莱德之墓

生于1829年3月27日

卒于1850年7月25日

汉普郡布莱克沃特庄园

珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士立

高烧

PART TWO
THE STORY TOLD BY MARIAN HALCOMBE
第二部分 玛丽安·哈尔库姆的讲述

4
Arrangements for a marriage

It was a sad day when Walter Hartright left us. Laura stayed in her room all day, and I felt sad and depressed. Poor Mr Gilmore must have had a dull time, and the next morning, when Laura reappeared looking pale and ill, I thought he seemed rather anxious about her. I was anxious too. Laura is such a sensitive and loving person that it was no surprise to me to find that she had grown fond of Walter. Indeed, I have grown fond of him myself. But I honestly believe that time will cure Laura of these feelings.

Two days after Walter left, Sir Percival Glyde arrived. He is forty-five years old but seems younger. He is handsome, and only a little bald, has perfect manners, and is pleasant, agreeable, and respectful. I really must try to like him.

In the afternoon, while Laura was out of the room, Sir Percival referred to Anne Catherick's letter.

'I read Mr Gilmore's letter to my lawyer,' he said, 'and I want to give you a full explanation. Mrs Catherick, you see, worked for me and my family for many years. Her marriage was unfortunate, in that her husband deserted her, and her only child, a girl, became mentally ill and needed to be put in an asylum. So, in recognition of Mrs Catherick's services, I agreed to pay the expenses of a private asylum for the girl. Unfortunately, the girl discovered this and consequently developed a hatred for me. She recently escaped from the asylum and I'm sure she wrote this letter because of her hatred for me. It's all very sad.'

Mr Gilmore found this explanation perfectly satisfactory, and said so. He then looked at me for agreement, but I was struggling with a sense of unease that I could not explain, and hesitated before answering. Sir Percival noticed this at once.

'May I beg you, Miss Halcombe,' he said politely, 'to write to Mrs Catherick to ask if these facts are true?'

I did not want to agree to this, but how could I refuse, without making the situation even more embarrassing than it already was? So I went to the desk, wrote a note, and gave it to him. Without looking at it, he put it in an envelope and wrote the address.

'Now that is done,' he said, 'may I ask if Anne Catherick spoke to Miss Fairlie, or to you?'

'No. She spoke to nobody except Mr Hartright,' I replied.

'Ah, yes, the drawing teacher,' he said thoughtfully. 'And did you discover where Anne Catherick was staying?'

I described the farm to him.

'It is my duty to try to find her,' he continued. 'Tomorrow I will go to this farm and make enquiries.' Soon afterwards he left to go up to his room.

*  *  *

That evening and the next day Sir Percival took every opportunity to bring Laura into the conversation, but she hardly took any notice. He went to the farm to make his enquiries about Anne Catherick, but learnt nothing. Then on Wednesday a letter came from Mrs Catherick — a short, business-like letter, thanking me for my note and saying that everything Sir Percival had told me was completely correct.

Why did I still have doubts? This, surely, was enough proof for anyone, but how I wished that Walter Hartright had been there to give his opinion! At Sir Percival's request I now had to give Laura his explanation of Anne Catherick's letter. She listened quietly and showed no emotion, but I noticed that on the table near her hand was the little book of Hartright's drawings. I also had to tell her that the reason for Sir Percival's visit was to fix the day of their marriage.

'I'm afraid he will ask you to decide quite soon, Laura.'

'Oh no, Marian! I can't do that!' she said. 'Please ask him, beg him, to allow me more time. I promise to give him a final answer before the end of the year, but not yet, please, not yet.'

Sir Percival agreed to this request, and when Mr Gilmore heard about it, he arranged to have a private talk with Laura.

'I have to return to London tomorrow,' he said to me, 'and I need to discuss the financial side of this marriage with Miss Fairlie before I go. As you know, she will inherit a great deal of money and property when she becomes twenty-one next March, and I must include all this in the marriage agreement in a way that reflects Miss Fairlie's own wishes, and is also acceptable to Sir Percival.'

He had the meeting with Laura the next morning, and in the afternoon he left for London, looking rather sad and thoughtful. Wondering what had been said, I hurried up to Laura's room.

'Oh, Marian, come in,' she said. 'I need to talk to you.'

'What is it, Laura? Is it about the marriage agreement?'

'No. I couldn't even bear to discuss that with Mr Gilmore. I'm ashamed to say that all I could do was cry. He was very kind and good, Marian, and he said that he would look after everything for me. No, what I wanted to tell you was this. I cannot bear the situation any longer. I must end it.'

Her eyes were bright and she spoke with great energy. I began to feel alarmed. 'What do you wish to do, Laura darling? Do you want to be released from your promise to marry Sir Percival?'

'No,' she said simply. 'I cannot break my promise to my father. But I want to tell the truth, and I will confess to Sir Percival that I love someone else.'

'Laura! He has no right to know that!' I said in amazement.

'I cannot deceive him,' she said. 'I have thought it over carefully. After I have told him, let him do as he wishes.'

I looked into her innocent, loving eyes and could say nothing. I just put my arms around her, trying not to cry myself.

'May I speak to him tomorrow, in your presence, Marian?'

I held her tight and agreed — though I was not sure I was doing the right thing. Indeed, I was not sure of anything. I could not understand how I had failed to see how deeply she loved Walter Hartright. For the first time in my life I had made a mistake about her. Now I realized that she would love him all her life.

*  *  *

The first thing that happened the next morning did nothing to make me feel more cheerful. A letter arrived for me from poor Walter Hartright. He had decided to leave England and asked me if I could help him find employment abroad. I was then alarmed to read that since his return to London he had neither seen nor heard anything of Anne Catherick, but suspected he had been watched and followed by strange men. I was worried about his state of mind, so I immediately wrote to some friends in London to ask if they could help him find a suitable job in another country. Laura, of course, knew nothing about these letters.

Sir Percival did not join us for breakfast, but sent a message, saying he would meet us at eleven o'clock, as arranged. Laura seemed calm and unusually self-controlled. I had never seen her like this. It was almost as if love had created a new force in her character.

At exactly eleven Sir Percival knocked and entered, with anxiety and worry in every line of his face. This meeting would decide his future life, and he obviously knew it.

'You may wonder, Sir Percival,' said Laura calmly, 'if I am going to ask to be released from my promise to marry you. I am not going to ask this. I respect my father's wishes too much.'

His face relaxed a little, but I saw one of his feet nervously beating the carpet.

'No, if we are going to withdraw from our planned marriage, it will be because of your wish, Sir Percival, not mine.'

'Mine?' he said in great surprise. 'What reason could I have for withdrawing?'

'A reason that is very hard to tell you,' she answered. 'There is a change in me.'

His face went so pale that even his lips lost their colour. He turned his head to one side.

'What change?' he asked, trying to hide his nervousness.

'When the promise was made two years ago,' she said, 'my love did not belong to anyone. Will you forgive me, Sir Percival, if I tell you that it now belongs to another person?'

Her tears started to fall, and Sir Percival hid his face behind his hand, so that it was impossible to know what he was thinking. He made no answer, and my temper got the better of me.

'Sir Percival!' I said sharply. 'Have you nothing to say? You have already heard more than you have a right to hear.'

'But I didn't ask for that right,' he said, avoiding my question.

'I wish you to understand,' Laura continued, 'that I will never see this person again, and that if you leave me, you only allow me to remain a single woman for the rest of my life. All I ask is that you forgive me and keep my secret.'

'I will do both those things,' he said. Then he looked at Laura, as if he was waiting to hear more.

'I think I have said enough to give you reason to withdraw from our marriage,' she added quietly.

'No. You have said enough to make it the dearest wish of my life to marry you,' he said, getting up and advancing towards her.

Laura gave a cry of surprise, but I had more than half expected this. Every word she had spoken had shown her honesty and her innocence, but these fine qualities had destroyed her own hopes of a release. Sir Percival understood very well the priceless value of a pure and true woman. Why would he give her up now?

'I will do everything I can to earn your love,' he said, 'and perhaps in time I will win it.'

'Never!' she answered, looking more beautiful than ever. 'I will be your true and loyal wife, but never your loving wife.'

'That is enough for me. I accept your loyalty and your truth,' he said, then raised her hand to his lips and silently left the room.

Laura sat without moving. I put my arm around her. At last she said,' I must resign myself, Marian. If you write to Walter, don't tell him how unhappy I am. And if I die first, please say to him, say what I could never say myself — say I loved him!'

Then she threw herself on the sofa and cried as if her heart was breaking, until at last she fell asleep.

*  *  *

In the days that followed it seemed that nothing could prevent this miserable marriage from taking place. I tried to make Laura change her mind, but she was determined to keep her promise, and to do her duty. Mr Fairlie was, of course, very happy that the 'family worry' was now at an end and suggested that the sooner his niece got married the better. This made me very angry, but when I told Laura, I was surprised by her calm reply.

'My uncle is right. I have caused trouble and anxiety to everyone. Let Sir Percival decide on the day for our marriage.'

Sir Percival was delighted by this news, and he then left to prepare for the bride's reception at his house in Hampshire.

I thought that a change would do Laura good, so I arranged for us both to go and stay with some friends in Yorkshire. She passively agreed with my idea. I also wrote to Mr Gilmore, telling him this marriage would now take place.

The next day I received a letter from Walter Hartright, saying that my friends had got him a job on an expedition to Central America. He was going to be the artist for the expedition. He was leaving on 21st November and would be away for six months. I could only hope that this was for the best.

Laura and I then departed for Yorkshire but after only nine days there we received a letter from Mr Fairlie, calling us back to Limmeridge immediately. What could this mean, I wondered?

I found out as soon as we arrived. Mr Fairlie and Sir Percival had agreed on 22nd December for the wedding, provided that Laura also agreed. Would I please persuade her, said Mr Fairlie. His nerves were much too bad to talk to her himself.

I also found our old friend Mr Gilmore, who had come to talk to Mr Fairlie about the marriage agreement. He was leaving that day, and was anxious to speak to me alone before he left.

'I am not at all happy about the financial arrangements in the agreement, Miss Halcombe,' he said, 'but there is nothing I can do about it. I know how fond you are of your sister and I think you ought to know why I am concerned.

'As you will know,' he went on, 'there are three parts to Miss Fairlie's inheritance. Firstly, on Mr Fairlie's death, she will inherit the Limmeridge property and land, and the income from it. If she dies childless, this property will go to a cousin, but the income from it will go to her husband during his lifetime. If she has a son, everything — property and income — will go to the son. No problems there.

'Secondly, when Miss Fairlie reaches the age of twenty-one next March, she will receive the income from £10,000. This £10,000 will go to her aunt Eleanor, if Miss Fairlie dies before her aunt — which is not very likely. The reason Miss Fairlie's father did not leave the £10,000 to his sister Eleanor on his death was that he disapproved strongly of her marriage to a foreigner, even though the man was an Italian nobleman, Count Fosco.'

'Yes, Laura has told me about that,' I said.

'Well,' Mr Gilmore went on, 'there are no problems there either. But the third part of Miss Fairlie's inheritance is more difficult. Next March she will also inherit £20,000, which will be her own money completely. If she dies before her husband, the income from the £20,000 will go to Sir Percival for his lifetime, and the capital will go to their children. If there are no children to inherit the capital, Miss Fairlie can choose relations and friends to inherit the money when she dies. That's what I proposed, but Sir Percival's lawyer did not accept it. He insists that if Sir Percival survives his wife and there are no children, Sir Percival should receive the capital. In that case, nothing will go to any other member of the family, including you, Miss Halcombe.'

Mr Gilmore sighed deeply. 'I protested strongly. I tried every argument I could, but nothing would change the lawyer's mind. I've discovered, you see, that Sir Percival is always in debt and always in need of cash. My last effort has been to come here, to try and persuade Mr Fairlie to oppose this demand from Sir Percival's lawyer. I am sorry to say I have not succeeded. Mr Fairlie wishes to avoid all responsibility for his niece's marriage arrangements. He says that his niece will not die before Sir Percival anyway, so what is there to worry about?'

Mr Gilmore stood up to go and picked up his hat. 'I shall complete the agreement and send it in. I have no choice. If I don't do it, Mr Fairlie will find another lawyer who will. But I tell you, Miss Halcombe, no daughter of mine should be married to any man alive under such an agreement as I am forced to make for Miss Fairlie.'

With that, he shook my hand, and without another word he went away to catch his train back to London.

After he had gone, I tried to be sensible. Mr Fairlie was Laura's guardian and if he chose to accept this agreement, there was nothing I could do about it. It was just one more worry about this dreadful marriage. A more immediate worry was the date of the wedding. When I told Laura, she turned pale and trembled.

'Not so soon!' she cried. 'Oh, Marian, not so soon!'

'Well, let me speak to Mr Fairlie, then,' I said, ready to fight for her. 'I will try to change it.'

'No,' she said faintly. 'Too late, Marian, too late! It will only make more trouble. Please tell my uncle I agree.'

I think I would have cried if I had not been so angry. I rushed into Mr Fairlie's room and shouted loudly, 'Laura agrees to the twenty-second' — and rushed out again, banging the door noisily. I hoped I had destroyed his nerves for the whole day.

*  *  *

After this the wedding preparations began. The dressmakers came and went all the time; there was packing, and planning, and all kinds of arrangements to make. We heard every day from Sir Percival. After the wedding he proposed to take Laura to Italy for six months. They would meet a number of Sir Percival's friends there, including his best and oldest friend, Count Fosco, whose wife, of course, was Laura's Aunt Eleanor. At least this marriage would bring Laura and her aunt together again, I thought. The Count himself sounded a most interesting person, and I rather hoped that I would meet him one day.

All too quickly the days passed. Sir Percival arrived, looking a little tired and anxious but talking and laughing like the happiest of men. The evening after he arrived he went off to the village to ask if anyone had any news of Anne Catherick. No one had heard anything, but I had to admit that it was good of him to continue to try to help her. I have decided to try and think better of him. After all, what reason do I have to distrust him? I am sure that I could like him if I really tried.

It is getting quite easy to like him. Today I spoke to him about the dearest wish of both Laura and myself — that I should be able to live with Laura after her marriage, just as I had always lived with her before. He agreed instantly and seemed delighted with the plan. I would be the ideal, the perfect companion for his wife, he said. Yes, I am beginning to like Sir Percival very much.

*  *  *

I hate Sir Percival! He has no sensitivity, no kindness, no good feeling. Last night he whispered something in Laura's ear — she has refused to tell me what it was — and her face turned white with misery. He took no notice at all, and all my suspicions of him have returned. Is he now showing his true character? He seems more restless and nervous than before, and is often sharp and bad-tempered. I have this strange idea that something might happen to prevent the marriage — and that he is afraid of that. A foolish thought. I must forget it.

As the day of our separation grows nearer, Laura cannot bear to have me out of her sight. I must be brave and cheerful, for her sake, but my fear will not go away. Will this marriage be the one terrible mistake of her life, and the one hopeless sorrow of mine?

*  *  *

It is the twenty-second. No more time for tears. Laura is dressed, and we leave for the church. By eleven o'clock they are married. By three o'clock they are gone. I am blind with crying and can write no more...


cure v. restore to health 治愈

respectful adj. showing deference 有礼貌的

desert v. abandon 抛弃

private adj. independent; not connected with government, public service, etc. 私立的

hesitate v. show or feel uncertainty or indecision 犹豫

embarrassing adj. causing to feel awkward or self-conscious or ashamed 令人难堪的;使人尴尬的

thoughtfully adv. engaged in or given to meditation 沉思地;若有所思地

business-like adj. serious, formal 正式的

emotion n. a strong mental or instinctive feeling 情感

inherit v. receive by legal descent or succession 继承

presence n. the state or condition of being present 在场

release v. set free; liberate 解除

withdraw v. discontinue, cancel 撤出;退出

advance v. move forward 向前走

destroy v. spoil utterly 破坏

in time eventually 最终

loyal adj. true, faithful 忠贞的

resign v. give up 退让

passively adv. offering no objection 被动地;不反对

expedition n. a journey for a particular purpose 为特别目的的旅行

provided conj. on the condition that 只要

likely adj. probable 可能的

disapprove v. have or express an unfavourable opinion 反对

capital n. money used to produce more wealth 资金

protest v. make a protest against an action or proposal 抗议;反对

dreadful adj. terrible, inspiring fear or awe 可怕的

bang v. shut noisily 用力关上

distrust v. have no trust or confidence in, doubt 不相信;怀疑

instantly adv. occurring immediately 立即;即刻

ideal adj. perfect, excellent 最好的

4.准备婚事

沃尔特·哈特里特先生离开的那天,我们都很难过。劳拉一整天呆在自己的房间里不出来,我的心情也很沉闷。可怜的吉尔摩先生肯定觉得那天很无聊。第二天早晨,劳拉从房间出来的时候,面容憔悴,像是病了一场。我觉得吉尔摩先生似乎很为她担心,我也为她担心。劳拉是个敏感而深情的人,她喜欢上沃尔特我一点儿也不觉得奇怪。其实,我自己也喜欢他。但是,我真心希望时间能够治愈劳拉的情伤。

沃尔特离开两天以后,珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士来了。他45岁,但看上去比实际年龄要年轻一些。他很英俊,稍有些秃顶,举止优雅,温和有礼。我尽力让自己对这个人产生好感。

下午,劳拉不在房里的时候,珀西瓦尔爵士提到了安妮·凯瑟里克的那封信。

“我看了吉尔摩先生给我律师的信,”他说,“我想跟你们好好地解释一下。凯瑟里克太太为我和我的家庭工作了许多年,她的婚姻很不幸,她丈夫抛弃了她,她的独生女精神有毛病,需要送进精神病院。所以,为了感谢凯瑟里克太太多年来的服务,我答应承担送她女儿去一家私立精神病院的所有费用。但不幸的是,女孩知道以后,就开始对我怀恨在心。她不久前从精神病院逃走了,我敢肯定是她出于对我的仇恨写了这封信。这太让人伤心了。”

吉尔摩先生认为这个解释非常令人满意,他说完看了看我,希望我也同意他的说法。可是,我有一种说不清的不安的感觉,犹豫了一会儿,没有说话。珀西瓦尔爵士立刻注意到了我的反应。

“哈尔库姆小姐,能否请你给凯瑟里克太太写封信,问问她这些是不是真的呢?”他非常客气地说。

我不想答应他的要求,但是又怎么好拒绝呢?拒绝只能把事情弄得越来越尴尬。于是,我走到桌旁,写了封短信,然后交给了珀西瓦尔。他看也没看就把信装进信封,写上了地址。

“好了,这件事就这样了,”他说,“请问安妮·凯瑟里克跟费尔利小姐或者你谈过吗?”

“没有。她只跟哈特里特先生谈过。”我告诉他。

“噢,是了,那位绘画教师,”他若有所思地说,“你们找到安妮·凯瑟里克的住处了吗?”

我跟他讲了农场的情况。

“找到她是我的责任,”他接着说,“明天我就去农场问问。”不一会儿,他就上楼回他的房间去了。

*  *  *

那天晚上以及第二天,珀西瓦尔爵士努力寻找一切机会同劳拉讲话,但劳拉一直心不在焉。珀西瓦尔去农场调查,结果一无所获。星期三凯瑟里克太太来信了,那是一封简短而又正式的信。信中感谢我给她写信,并且说珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我的都是事实。

为什么我还是有疑问呢?这封信对谁来讲都是充分的证据,可我还是很希望沃尔特·哈特里特先生能在这儿发表一下他的看法。应珀西瓦尔爵士的要求,我得向劳拉解释一下安妮·凯瑟里克来信的事情。她静静地听着,脸上毫无表情。我注意到她手边的桌上放着哈特里特先生的画册。我还得告诉她,珀西瓦尔爵士此行的目的是要确定他们结婚的日期。

“恐怕他会让你马上做决定,劳拉。”

“噢,不行,玛丽安!我不能!”她说,“请帮我问问他,恳求他再给我些时间。我保证年底以前给他最终的答复,但是现在不行,现在不行。”

珀西瓦尔爵士答应了这个要求。吉尔摩先生得知事情的经过后,准备同劳拉单独谈谈。

“我明天必须回伦敦去,”吉尔摩先生对我说,“走之前,我需要和费尔利小姐谈一下这桩婚事的财务问题。你知道,明年3月她21岁的时候,她会继承一大笔财产,我必须把这些都写进结婚协议中去,让协议既能反映费尔利小姐的愿望,也能令珀西瓦尔爵士接受。”

转天上午,吉尔摩先生和劳拉谈了话。下午,他动身去伦敦时,看上去忧心忡忡。不知道他们都说了些什么,我连忙赶去劳拉的房间。

“噢,玛丽安,快进来,我有话跟你说。”劳拉说。

“出了什么事,劳拉?是结婚协议的事吗?”

“不是。我简直没办法跟吉尔摩先生谈这件事。我真不好意思说出口,刚才我只是一个劲儿地哭,什么也没说。吉尔摩先生非常善良,玛丽安,他告诉我,他会帮我打理一切。我现在要告诉你的是,我再也受不了这种局面了,我必须结束这种状况。”

她的眼睛很亮,语气也很坚决。我感到有些害怕,“你想要做什么,亲爱的劳拉?你要解除同珀西瓦尔爵士的婚约吗?”

“不是的,”她回答,“我不能打破对父亲的承诺。但是,我要说出真话,我要告诉珀西瓦尔爵士我爱上了别人。”

“劳拉!他无权知道这件事!”我惊讶地说。

“我不能欺骗他,”她说,“我已经想好了。我把真相告诉他,让他决定该怎么办。”

我看着她纯洁、深情的眼神,一句话也说不出来。我伸手抱住她,尽量控制自己不哭出来。

“明天我就跟他说,你跟我去,好吗,玛丽安?”

我紧紧地抱着她,答应了她的请求——我也不清楚自己做的是对是错。我对什么都没了把握。我不明白为什么我没发觉她爱沃尔特·哈特里特爱得那么深。我第一次对她做出了错误的判断。现在我知道,她会一辈子爱着他。

*  *  *

第二天早晨发生的事让我一点儿也高兴不起来,可怜的沃尔特·哈特里特来信说他决定离开英国,问我能否帮他在国外找份工作。信后面的内容使我非常担心。他回伦敦以后,既没有见到安妮·凯瑟里克,也没有打听到她的任何消息,反而觉得有陌生人在盯他的梢。我担心他情绪不稳,赶忙给几个在伦敦的朋友写信,看他们能不能帮他在国外找到一份合适的工作。当然,劳拉对信的事一无所知。

珀西瓦尔爵士没有来同我们一起吃早餐,他捎话给我们说他会按约定11点来见我们。劳拉超乎寻常的冷静、镇定。我从未见她这样过,好像爱情使她更坚强了。

11点整,珀西瓦尔爵士敲门进来。他满脸紧张和不安。这次谈话将会决定他今后的生活,他显然非常清楚这一点。

“你可能会认为我是来请求与你解除婚约的,珀西瓦尔爵士,”劳拉冷静地说,“我不是来做这样的请求的,我非常尊重父亲的意愿。”

珀西瓦尔爵士的表情放松了一些,但我看到他的一只脚在紧张地敲打着地毯。

“我不会那样做的,如果我们两人要解除婚约的话,那一定是出于你的意愿,珀西瓦尔爵士,而不会是我的。”

“我的意愿?”他吃惊地说,“我能有什么理由解除婚约呢?”

“一个很难向你启齿的理由,我这里有了些变故。”劳拉回答。

珀西瓦尔的脸色变得煞白,双唇一点儿血色都没有。他把脸转向一侧。

“什么变故?”他尽量掩饰着自己的紧张。

“两年前约定婚事的时候,我的爱不属于任何人,”劳拉接着说,“如果我告诉你,珀西瓦尔爵士,我的爱现在属于另一个人,你会原谅我吗?”

她的眼泪流了下来。珀西瓦尔爵士用手捂住了脸,让人看不出他是怎么想的。他一句话也不说,我的直脾气可受不了了。

“珀西瓦尔爵士!”我大声问道,“你不想说点儿什么吗?你已经听到了本来你无权听到的事情。”

“可我并没有要求这权利。”他回避了我的问题。

“我想告诉你,”劳拉继续说,“我再也见不到那个人了。如果你和我分手,我会终身不嫁。我只请求你原谅我,并为我保守秘密。”

“两件事我都答应。”珀西瓦尔说完,看了看劳拉,似乎等着她再说些什么。

“我想我已经讲了足够的理由让你解除婚约。”劳拉平静地说。

“不,你说了这么多,我唯一的感觉是我一生最大的愿望就是同你结婚。”说着,他起身朝劳拉走过来。

劳拉惊讶得“咦”了一声,我倒是猜到了几分他会这么说。劳拉讲的每一句话都透出她的真诚和纯洁,但是这样良好的品德却毁掉了她解脱的希望。珀西瓦尔爵士很清楚,一个纯洁、真诚的女人是无价之宝。他为什么要放弃呢?

“我会尽一切所能去赢得你的爱,也许最终我会成功的。”珀西瓦尔说。

“永远也不会的!”劳拉看上去更美了,“我会是你忠实的妻子,但永远不会爱你。”

“这就足够了。我愿意接受你的忠贞和真诚。”说罢,他拿起劳拉的手吻了吻,然后默默地走出房间。

劳拉坐在那里一动不动,我伸出手搂住她。最后她开口道:“我必须退让,玛丽安。你给沃尔特写信时,不要告诉他我不开心。假如我比他先死了,你一定对他说,说我不能亲口对他说的话——我爱他!”

说完,她扑在沙发上放声痛哭,哭得好像心都碎了一样,最后她趴在那儿睡着了。

*  *  *

接下来的日子里,好像什么也阻止不了这桩不幸的婚姻。我力图让劳拉改变主意,但她却坚持要恪守诺言,履行义务。费尔利先生自然非常高兴,因为这场“家庭烦恼”终于画上了句号。他建议他的侄女越早结婚越好。这令我很气愤,但我把这话告诉劳拉后,她的平静反应倒让我吃了一惊。

“叔叔说的对,我给大家带来了太多麻烦。让珀西瓦尔爵士决定我们的结婚日期吧。”

珀西瓦尔爵士对此非常高兴,他离开庄园回汉普郡,准备迎接新娘。

我想换一个环境肯定对劳拉有好处,于是安排我们两人到约克郡的朋友那里呆一段时间。她同意了。我还给吉尔摩先生写了信,告诉他这桩婚事可以继续了。

第二天,我收到了沃尔特·哈特里特的来信,信中说我的朋友为他找到一份工作,要到中美洲长途旅行,他做随行的画家,11月21号动身,行程6个月。我衷心希望这是最好的安排。

劳拉和我动身前往约克郡。但是,刚刚在那里住了9天,我们就收到费尔利先生的信,让我们立即返回利默里奇。这意味着什么呢,我想不出。

一回来我就明白了。费尔利先生和珀西瓦尔爵士已经把婚礼的时间定在12月22日,就等劳拉点头同意了。费尔利先生问我可不可以说服劳拉同意这个日期,他本人神经不好,无法跟她谈。

我见到了我们的老朋友吉尔摩先生,他是来同费尔利先生谈有关结婚协议的事的。他当天就要离开庄园,着急想与我单独谈谈。

“哈尔库姆小姐,我对结婚协议中的财务安排非常不满意,”他对我说,“但是我一点儿办法也没有。我知道你多么爱你的妹妹,所以我认为你应该知道我为什么担心。

“你知道,”他接着说,“费尔利小姐继承的财产包括三部分。第一,费尔利先生死后,她会继承利默里奇的财产和土地以及由此产生的收入。如果她死后没有孩子,这份财产将转到她的一个亲戚名下,但财产的收入在她丈夫在世的时候将归他所有。如果她有个儿子,所有的财产和收入都归她的儿子。这一点没有任何问题。

“第二,明年3月费尔利小姐21岁的时候,她将得到10,000英镑的收入。如果费尔利小姐在她姑妈埃莉诺之前死去,这笔钱就归她姑妈,这当然不大可能。费尔利小姐的父亲之所以死的时候没有把这10,000英镑留给他的妹妹埃莉诺,是因为他强烈反对她嫁给一个外国人,虽然那个人是位意大利贵族,福斯科伯爵。”

“是的,劳拉跟我说过这件事。”我说。

“好吧,”吉尔摩先生接着说,“这一部分也没有问题。可是第三部分就不那么简单了。明年3月,她还将继承20,000英镑,这完全是属于她个人的一笔钱。如果她先于她丈夫死去,从这20,000英镑获得的收入将属于珀西瓦尔爵士,直至他去世;而这20,000英镑本金将归他们的孩子所有。假如没有孩子继承这笔钱,费尔利小姐死的时候,可以选择亲属或朋友继承。这是我的建议。但是,珀西瓦尔爵士的律师拒不接受这一点,他坚持认为,如果珀西瓦尔爵士死在他妻子后面,同时他们又没有孩子,珀西瓦尔就应该得到这笔钱。那样的话,费尔利家族的任何其他人,包括你在内,都得不到一分钱,哈尔库姆小姐。”

吉尔摩先生长叹了一口气,“我坚决反对这样。我极力争取,但还是无法让那位律师改变主意。我发现珀西瓦尔爵士长期欠债,急需现金。我最后的努力就是来这里试图说服费尔利先生反对珀西瓦尔爵士律师的要求,非常遗憾,我没有成功。对他侄女的这桩婚事费尔利先生什么也不想管。他说他侄女不会死在珀西瓦尔爵士前面的,又有什么可担心的呢?”

吉尔摩先生站起身,拿起帽子准备离开,“我会把协议拟好,并把它寄给你们。我没别的办法,我不这样做,费尔利先生也会再找一名律师这样做的。不过,我跟你说,哈尔库姆小姐,我是不会让我女儿根据我被迫为费尔利小姐准备的这样一份协议嫁人的。”

说完,他握了握我的手,一言不发地离开这里,去赶回伦敦的火车了。

吉尔摩先生走后,我尽量保持理智。费尔利先生是劳拉的监护人,如果他愿意接受这份协议,我做什么都无济于事。这是这桩可怕婚姻的又一个令人担忧的地方。现在更紧迫的事情是结婚日期。我把结婚的日期告诉劳拉以后,她的脸色立刻变白了,身体也开始发抖。

alt

“不要这么快!”她喊道,“噢,玛丽安,不要这么快!”

“好吧,那我去和费尔利先生说,”我这样说着,已经做好了为她去抗争的准备,“我会尽力去改变这个日期。”

“算了吧,”她有气无力地说,“一切都太晚了,玛丽安,太晚了!抗争只能带来更多的麻烦。去告诉我叔叔,我同意了。”

我要不是气愤至极,肯定就会哭出声来。我冲进费尔利先生的房间,大声喊道:“劳拉同意22日结婚!”——然后冲出去,很响地甩上门。但愿我能让他的神经一整天都不得安宁。

*  *  *

这以后,婚礼的准备工作开始了。整天都有裁缝进进出出;要收拾行李,做计划,进行各种安排。我们每天都能收到珀西瓦尔爵士的来信,他提议婚礼之后带劳拉到意大利住六个月,见一些珀西瓦尔的朋友,包括他最好的老朋友福斯科伯爵。福斯科伯爵的妻子当然就是劳拉的姑妈埃莉诺。这桩婚姻起码可以让劳拉和她的姑妈重逢,我这样想着。听起来伯爵本人倒是一个非常有趣的人,我也想有朝一日能见见他。

日子很快地过去了。珀西瓦尔爵士终于来了。他看上去有些疲倦和不安,但是有说有笑的仿佛世界上最幸福的男人就是他。他来的当天晚上去了村子里,打听是否有人知道安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。虽然没人给他提供什么消息,但我必须承认他继续寻求帮助她,这是善举。我决定努力改变对他不好的看法,说到底,我有什么理由不信任他呢?我相信如果真的努力尝试,我可能会喜欢他的。

喜欢他是很容易的。今天我同他说起劳拉与我的最大愿望——在劳拉结婚之后,我和她还能像以前一样住在一起。他立刻就答应了,而且很高兴能有这样的安排。他说我将是他妻子最理想、最合适的陪伴。是啊,我开始非常喜欢珀西瓦尔爵士了。

*  *  *

我恨珀西瓦尔爵士!他不善解人意,缺乏同情心,没有好心肠。昨天晚上,他跟劳拉耳语了些什么——劳拉不愿告诉我具体内容——她的脸色变得非常难看。而他却一点儿没在意。我以前对他所有的怀疑又出现了。现在,他是不是露出了他的本来面目?他变得比以往更加焦躁不安,经常言语尖刻,发脾气。我有个奇怪的想法,是不是会有什么事阻止这桩婚姻,而又非常害怕那样的结局。这是胡思乱想,我不能当真。

我们分别的日子一天天临近了,劳拉一刻也不肯离开我。为了她,我必须勇敢些,高兴起来。但是,我的担心没有消失。这桩婚姻会成为劳拉一生的大错吗?会成为我伤心、痛苦的根源吗?

*  *  *

22日到了。时间到了,不能再哭了。劳拉梳妆打扮完毕,我们要去教堂了。11点钟,婚礼就会结束。下午3点,他们就离开这里了。我已经哭得视线模糊,无法继续写下去了……

5
A document for signature

Six long, lonely months passed, and I had little to do but think of absent friends. I received a cheerful letter from Walter Hartright after he arrived in Honduras, and just before he set off with the expedition into the forest. Since then, I have heard nothing. There was no news of Anne Catherick or Mrs Clements. Poor Mr Gilmore fell very ill and had to give up work, but his business is continued by his partner, Mr Kyrle. Mrs Vesey has moved to London to live with her sister, and Mr Fairlie, I believe, is secretly delighted to have his house free of women.

Most of all, of course, I thought about Laura. Many letters came from her, but she said very little in them. She told me she was well, but hardly mentioned her husband, and wrote not a word about Count Fosco, whom they had met in Austria, not Italy. I understood from her silence that she did not like him. All she said was that her Aunt Eleanor, Madame Fosco, was quieter and more sensible than she had used to be.

*  *  *

On 11th June I arrived at Blackwater Park, Sir Percival's family home in Hampshire. The waiting was nearly over, and how happy I was! The next day Laura and her husband would return home, together with Count Fosco and his wife, who were going to spend the summer at Blackwater.

In the morning the housekeeper, Mrs Michelson, showed me round the house. It is very old, and much of it is dusty and unused; only one part of the enormous building is comfortable enough to live in.

Later I explored the gardens and the park. The gardens are small and not well kept, and there are so many trees that the house feels shut in by them. I found a path through the trees, which after half a mile brought me to a lake. It was a damp, lonely place. The still dark waters of the lake and the long shadows from the tall trees gave it a gloomy air. Near the lake there was an old boat-house with some seats in it, so I went in and sat down for a rest.

I am not a nervous person generally but when I heard the sound of quick breathing under my seat, I jumped to my feet in alarm. In fact, it was a dog — a small black and white dog, with a bullet wound in its side. I carried the poor creature back to the house and sent for Mrs Michelson to help me.

When she came in and saw the dog lying on the floor, she cried out at once, 'Oh! That must be Mrs Catherick's dog!'

'Whose?' I asked, amazed.

'Mrs Catherick's. Do you know her? She came here to ask for news of her daughter.'

'When?'

'Yesterday. She'd heard that her daughter Anne had been seen in the neighbourhood. But no one knew anything. I suppose the dog ran away into the woods and got shot by the park-keeper.'

I tried to make my voice sound politely interested. 'I suppose you've known Mrs Catherick for some years?'

'Oh no, Miss Halcombe, I never saw her before. She lives at Welmingham, twenty-five miles away. I had heard of her, because of Sir Percival paying for her daughter to go to an asylum. But yesterday, Mrs Catherick asked me not to mention her visit to Sir Percival. That was an odd thing to say, wasn't it, Miss?'

Odd, indeed! But then we had to turn our attention to the poor dog, which, despite our efforts, died a little while later. It was a sad thing to happen on my first day at Blackwater.

*  *  *

Later that evening the travellers returned. After my first happiness at meeting Laura, I felt there was a strangeness between us and I realized she had changed. I was sure we would soon get back to normal, but she had lost her innocent openness. She was unwilling to talk about her married life, and I saw that there were no warm feelings between her husband and her. It wasn't long before she asked me about Walter — 'Have you heard from him? Is he well and happy?' — and it was clear to me that she loved him as deeply as ever.

As for Sir Percival, his manners are sharper and less pleasant. On meeting me he simply said, 'Hello, Miss Halcombe. Glad to see you again,' — and then walked past me. Little things seem to annoy him a great deal. For example, the housekeeper told him a man had called to speak to him a week ago but had left no name. Sir Percival demanded a description of the man, which poor Mrs Michelson was unable to give, and Sir Percival stormed out of the room in great anger.

Laura was certainly right about Madame Fosco. Never have I seen such a change in a woman. As Eleanor Fairlie (aged thirty-seven), she wore bright clothes, was silly and foolish, and always talked nonsense. As Madame Fosco (aged forty-three), she wears only grey or black, and sits for hours in silence, doing needlework, rolling up cigarettes for the Count, or just looking at him with the eyes of a loyal dog.

And the man who has achieved this extraordinary change, the man who has tamed this wild Englishwoman? Yes, what can I say about the Count? He looks like a man who could tame anything. If he had married me, I would have made his cigarettes, as his wife does. I would have held my tongue when he looked at me, as she holds hers.

How can I explain the power, the attraction, the force that comes from this man? There are many unlikeable or unattractive things about him. For example, he is enormously fat; he seems to have false hair; he is at least sixty years old. He is lazy, jumps at the slightest sudden sound, and has a peculiar fondness for pet animals. He has brought with him a variety of birds and a whole family of white mice, which he often kisses and calls loving names, just as a child might do.

And yet, and yet... He is fat, but moves lightly and easily, like a dancer. There is a calmness and a strength about his smooth, unlined face, and his voice is persuasive, gentle, hard to resist. His knowledge of the English language is perfect and he is a well-known expert in chemical science. He speaks in baby language to his white mice, but he talks with intelligence and charm about books in every language, and brings to his conversation experience of life in half the capitals of Europe.

But it is his eyes that I shall always remember — his cold, clear, beautiful grey eyes, eyes which held such a frightening power that I shiver even now to think of it.

I could discover very little about his past from Sir Percival. I only learnt that he had not been to Italy for years; I wondered if this was for political reasons. It seemed he had saved Sir Percival from great danger in Rome once and they had been the closest of friends ever since. It was quite clear that Sir Percival was always anxious to please him and would never go against his wishes.

I wonder whether I am afraid of him too. I certainly never saw a man I would be more sorry to have as an enemy.

*  *  *

At lunchtime, a few days after they all returned, a man called Mr Merriman arrived, asking to see Sir Percival urgently. Sir Percival had clearly not expected the visit and looked both alarmed and angry as he left the table.

Neither Laura nor I had any idea who Mr Merriman was, but the Count told us he was Sir Percival's lawyer. I wondered what had happened, as a lawyer does not usually travel from London to Hampshire unless sent for. Mr Merriman must be the bringer of important news — either good or bad.

Count Fosco obviously read my thoughts and said softly to me, 'Yes, Miss Halcombe, something has happened.'

Later in the day I was coming from my room when I saw Sir Percival and his lawyer crossing the hall downstairs. They spoke quietly, but clearly enough for their words to reach my ears.

'Yes, Sir Percival,' I heard the lawyer say, 'it all depends on Lady Glyde.'

I immediately stopped when I heard Laura's name and, although I knew it was wrong, continued to listen.

'You understand, Sir Percival, Lady Glyde must sign her name in the presence of two witnesses. If this is done in a week's time, everything will be all right. If not, I may be able to get them to accept a document promising payment in three months. But how that money is to be obtained by then... '

They went into the library and I heard no more, but it seemed that Sir Percival had a serious debt and that the solution to it depended on Laura. I immediately went to tell Laura what I had heard. She did not seem surprised.

'I was afraid of something like this,' she said, 'when I heard about that strange gentleman who called, without leaving his name. He had probably come to ask for his money. But don't worry, Marian. I won't sign anything that I might later regret.'

In the evening Sir Percival was unusually polite and pleasant to all of us. What did this mean? I thought I could guess — I was afraid Laura could guess — and I was sure Count Fosco knew. I saw Sir Percival looking at him for approval more than once during the evening. The Count was certainly aware of Sir Percival's financial problems.

The next morning Sir Percival asked Count Fosco, Laura, and myself if we would go to the library for a minute after lunch for a small business matter. Before lunch, however, we all went for a walk to the lake, stopping at the boat-house for a rest.

'Some people call the lake pretty,' said Sir Percival, pointing to the view. 'I call it ugly. It looks just the place for a murder, doesn't it? What do you think, Fosco?'

'My dear Percival,' the Count protested, 'the water is too shallow to hide a body. Only a fool would murder someone here. A wise man would choose somewhere else.'

'Wise men do not murder,' said Laura, looking at him with dislike. 'I am sure you cannot give me an example of a wise man who has been a criminal.'

'My dear lady,' said the Count, 'it is impossible to give an example, because a wise man's crime is never found out.'

As he spoke, he was playing with his white mice in their little cage, and suddenly noticed that one of them was missing. A few seconds later he found the little animal under a seat, but also found something which seemed to shock him.

'Percival,' he said, 'come here. Look at this in the sand. Blood!'

Everyone seemed alarmed, so I had to explain about the wounded dog I had found.

'Whose dog was it?' asked Sir Percival.

'The housekeeper said it was Mrs Catherick's dog,' I replied, remembering too late that the visit was meant to be kept secret.

'What the devil was Mrs Catherick doing here?'

This question came with such rudeness and anger that I turned away. Count Fosco laid his hand on Sir Percival's arm.

'My dear Percival! Gently, gently!'

To my great surprise, Sir Percival apologized to me, and Count Fosco then said, 'Why not question the housekeeper, Percival, since she seems to know all about it?'

Sir Percival took the point, and immediately left us to return to the house.

The Count seemed fascinated by Mrs Catherick and wanted to know all about her visit. I tried to say as little as possible, but Laura asked questions too, and in the end the Count knew as much as we did about Mrs Catherick and her daughter Anne. I was quite sure, from his surprise at the story, that the Count had known nothing of Anne Catherick, and uneasily I wondered why Sir Percival had not told his closest friend.

When we went back to the house, Sir Percival came to greet us. 'I am sorry to say I have to leave you. I have to drive a long way and won't be back until tomorrow. First, though, I would like to finish that little business matter. Will you come into the library? It won't take a minute.'

In the library he got a document out of a cupboard and put it on the table. It was folded in such a way that all the writing was hidden and only the places to sign were visible.

Handing a pen to Laura, he said, 'Sign there. You and Fosco are to sign afterwards, Miss Halcombe.'

'What do you want me to sign?' Laura asked quietly.

'I have no time to explain. I have to leave. It's just business,' he said angrily. 'Women don't understand business. Just sign it.'

'But surely I ought to know what I am signing.'

'I see. So you're saying you don't trust me! Is that it? What kind of a wife is that?'

To help Laura, I said, 'I am afraid I cannot be a witness if she doesn't understand what she is signing.'

Sir Percival turned to me furiously. 'How dare you! You're a guest in my house and you take my wife's side against me!'

'Control your unfortunate temper, Percival,' said the Count, and I heard him whisper to him, 'You idiot!'

But Laura had put the pen down and moved to my side.

'Lady Glyde is right,' the Count then said. 'Let the signature wait until tomorrow.'

Sir Percival swore at him, but moved away from the table.

'All right, then,' he said, 'until tomorrow. Anyway, I have to go. But you will sign tomorrow or —' He gave his wife a cold, hard stare, then went out.

As Laura and I moved to the door, the Count approached us. 'You have just seen Sir Percival at his worst,' he said. 'As his old friend, I apologize for him and promise he won't behave like that tomorrow.'

I had begun to realize that I could not hope to remain at Blackwater Park now without the influence and support of the Count, so I answered by thanking him warmly. Then I led Laura out and took her up to my room for a rest.

While we were there, she told me how cruel Sir Percival had been to her since their marriage and how unhappy she was. I tried to calm her and to find a solution to the problem of the signature. Suddenly I had the idea of writing to Mr Gilmore's partner, Mr Kyrle, and asking for his advice. In my letter I also asked him to get a messenger to bring the reply by one o'clock the next day. I then put the letter in the post-bag in the hall. Just at that moment Madame Fosco appeared and asked to speak to me in the garden. She spoke to me for a full half-hour about how much sympathy she had for me. I found this very odd indeed since she had shown very little interest in me before.

When I finally returned, I saw the Count also putting a letter in the post-bag. For some reason I decided to check my letter was properly closed, so I got it out of the bag. This was lucky, as I found the envelope had come open. How strange, I thought. Perhaps there had been something wrong with it...

Or perhaps...

No! There could be no other explanation.


absent adj. not present 不在场的

free of not containing or subject to 没有

enormous adj. very large, huge 非常大的

gloomy adj. dismal, depressing 阴暗的;阴郁的

creature n. an animal 动物

neighbourhood n. the surrounding area 附近

odd adj. extraordinary, strange 反常的;奇怪的

storm v. move violently or angrily 气愤地走

tame v. make tame 驯服

hold one's tongue be silent 不说话

enormously adv. very, quite 非常

frightening adj. terrifying 使人害怕的

go against be contrary to 反对

urgently adv. requiring immediate action or attention 急迫地

obtain v. acquire, secure 得到;获得

library n. a room containing a collection of books 书房

aware adj. conscious or having knowledge 清楚;知道

murder n. killing unlawfully with a premeditated motive 谋杀

rudeness n. being impolite or offensive 无礼

fascinated adj. showing great interest in 非常感兴趣的

fold v. bend or close something over upon itself 折叠

furiously adv. extremely angry 极度气愤地

swear v. use indecent language 骂人

stare n. a staring gaze

messenger n. a person who carries a message 信使

properly adv. fittingly; suitably 适当地

5.需要签字的文件

漫长、孤寂的六个月过去了。除去思念不在身边的朋友们,我无所事事。我收到一封沃尔特·哈特里特的来信,是他到达洪都拉斯,进入林地之前写的。从那以后,他就没有了任何消息。安妮·凯瑟里克和克莱门茨太太没有任何音信。可怜的吉尔摩先生病得很厉害,不得不停止工作。他的工作由他的合伙人克尔先生代理。维西太太搬到了伦敦,和她妹妹住在一起。我想费尔利先生一定暗自高兴这庄园里没有了女人。

我最思念的当然是劳拉。她来过许多信,但是内容都非常简单。她说她挺好的,却只字不提她丈夫,也不提福斯科伯爵。他们是在奥地利相见的,而不是在意大利。从她的沉默我看得出,她不喜欢他。她只是说到埃莉诺姑妈,就是福斯科夫人,比以前话少了,也更理智了。

*  *  *

6月11日,我来到布莱克沃特庄园,珀西瓦尔爵士在汉普郡的家。等待终于快结束了,我异常兴奋。第二天,劳拉同她丈夫就要回来了,一同来的还有福斯科伯爵夫妇,他们要在布莱克沃特度过这个夏天。

早上,管家米切尔森太太领我参观了房子。这是一幢很古老的房子,多处是厚厚的尘土,没有人住。偌大的房子只有一部分还比较舒适,可以住人。

之后,我去看了看花园和园林。花园很小,维护得也不好。这周围树木非常多,遮蔽了房子。我发现了树林中的一条小路,沿着小路走了半英里之后是一个湖。这是一个潮湿僻静的地方。平静漆黑的湖水和长长的树影使这里笼上了一层阴暗、凄凉的色彩。湖的附近有一个破旧的船屋,里面有几个座位,我走进去坐下休息。

我并不是一个胆小的人,但是听见座位底下传来急促的喘息声,我还是惊得一下子跳了起来。其实,那是只狗——一只黑白相间的小狗,身子的一侧有子弹的伤痕。我把可怜的小东西带回房子里,叫来米切尔森太太帮我。

米切尔森太太进来看见地上躺着的小狗,马上大声说:“噢,这一定是凯瑟里克太太的狗!”

“是谁的狗?”我非常吃惊地问。

“凯瑟里克太太的。你认识她吗?她来这里打听过她女儿的消息。”

“什么时候?”

“就是昨天。她听说有人在附近看见过她女儿安妮。可是没人知道这件事。我想这条狗可能跑到树林里去,让看林人给打了。”

我尽量让自己听起来不是过分好奇,“你是不是认识凯瑟里克太太好多年了?”

“噢,也不是,哈尔库姆小姐。我以前没见过她。她住在离这里25英里远的韦明翰。我听说过她,因为珀西瓦尔爵士出钱送她女儿去精神病院。但是昨天,凯瑟里克太太让我别跟珀西瓦尔爵士讲她来过的事。这有点儿怪,是吧,小姐?”

奇怪,的确奇怪!但是,我们得把注意力集中到那只小狗身上,虽然我们尽力挽救,没过多久它还是死了。我第一天到布莱克沃特就发生了一件令人伤心的事。

*  *  *

当天晚上,旅行者们都回来了。我见到劳拉的高兴劲儿刚过,就觉得我们之间有一种奇怪的感觉,我意识到她变了。我相信,我们之间很快就会像从前一样。但是她好像失去了原来的纯真和坦诚。她不愿谈自己的婚后生活,而且我发现她同她丈夫之间毫无亲密可言。她很快就向我问起沃尔特:“你收到他的信了吗?他好吗?”显而易见,她还在深深地爱着他。

至于珀西瓦尔爵士,他的脾气变得越发暴躁,越发不讨人喜欢。见到我,他只是简单地说了声“你好,哈尔库姆小姐。很高兴又见到你。”然后就从我身边走过去了。一点点小事也会让他大为恼火。举个例子,米切尔森太太告诉他一个星期前有个男人来找他,但没有留下姓名。珀西瓦尔爵士问那人什么模样,可怜的米切尔森太太说不上来,于是珀西瓦尔爵士勃然大怒,气急败坏地走出房间。

关于福斯科夫人,劳拉说得很对。我从未见过哪个女人身上会发生如此大的变化。她是埃莉诺·费尔利小姐的时候(当时她37岁),经常穿鲜亮的衣服,说傻话,做傻事。她成了福斯科夫人以后(现在她43岁),只穿灰色和黑色的衣服,而且经常几个小时坐在那里一声不吭地做针线,给伯爵卷烟或者像一条忠诚的狗一样望着伯爵。

那么,那个导致了如此变化,驯服了这么一个桀骜不驯的英国女人的男人呢?对,我该怎么描述伯爵呢?他好像可以驯服一切。假如他娶了,我也会像他妻子一样给他卷烟,我也会像她一样被他看一眼就闭上嘴。

我应该怎么解释这个男人的魔力、魅力和影响呢?其实,他身上有许多不招人喜欢的地方。比方说,他体形肥胖,似乎还戴假发,而且少说也有60岁了。他人很懒,听到任何一点儿响动都会跳起来,还特别爱养宠物。他带来各种各样的鸟和一大窝白鼠。他就像小孩子一样,时常亲吻这些宠物,用昵称叫它们。

可是,可是……他身体肥胖,但动作像舞蹈演员一样轻巧灵便。他的脸很光滑,没有皱纹;表情沉稳庄重。他的声音很柔和,有一种难以抵挡的魅力。他精通英语,还是个化学家。他用儿语对白鼠讲话,但是谈到用任何语言写作的书籍,他都睿智机敏,滔滔不绝。他到过一半欧洲国家的首都。他经常谈起在那些城市的经历。

但让我铭记在心的是他的眼睛——一双冷酷、明亮、好看的灰眼睛。他的眼睛有一种慑人的威力,我现在想起来还会打哆嗦。

关于他的过去,我从珀西瓦尔爵士那儿知道的很少。我只知道他很多年没回意大利了,不知道是不是由于政治原因。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士在罗马遇到大难,伯爵帮助他脱离了危险。从那以后,他们成了密友。很明显,珀西瓦尔爵士总是力图讨好伯爵,从不跟他对着干。

我不知道自己是不是也害怕他。但是,他是我所见过的人中我最不愿与之成为敌人的。

*  *  *

他们旅行回来几天后,吃午饭的时候,一个叫梅里曼的人来了,要求马上见珀西瓦尔爵士。看得出,珀西瓦尔没想到这个人会来,他起身出去的时候显得既吃惊又生气。

劳拉和我都不知道梅里曼先生是何许人。伯爵告诉我们他是珀西瓦尔爵士的律师。我不知道出了什么事,因为除了被唤而来,律师是不会从伦敦到汉普郡来的。梅里曼先生一定带来了什么重要消息——不管是好消息还是坏消息。

福斯科伯爵显然看出了我的心事,轻声对我说:“没错,哈尔库姆小姐,确实出事了。”

后来,我从房里出来,看见珀西瓦尔爵士和律师正穿过楼下的大厅。他们说话的声音很低,但还是清晰地传进我的耳朵里。

“是的,珀西瓦尔爵士,”我听见律师说,“一切都取决于格莱德夫人了。”

听到劳拉的名字,我马上停住了脚步。我知道这样做不好,但还是接着往下听。

“你知道,珀西瓦尔爵士,格莱德夫人必须在两个证人在场的情况下签字,只要这件事在一星期之内办妥,一切都好说。如果不行,我可以准备一份文件,向他们保证三个月后付款。可是,三个月后怎么能弄到钱呢……?”

他们走进书房,下面的话我听不见了。好像珀西瓦尔爵士欠了一大笔债,而还债就取决于劳拉。我立即把刚刚听到的消息告诉了劳拉,她看上去一点儿也不惊讶。

“我料到会出这种事,”劳拉说,“在我听说来了一位没有留下姓名的陌生人时,我就料到了。那人很可能是来要钱的。不过别怕,玛丽安,任何今后我可能后悔的文件,我都不会签的。”

那天晚上,珀西瓦尔爵士对我们大家异乎寻常地客气。这说明什么呢?我想我能猜出来——劳拉也能猜出来——而且我敢肯定福斯科伯爵清楚其中的奥秘。我注意到珀西瓦尔有好几次都用眼神征求伯爵的意见。伯爵肯定清楚珀西瓦尔爵士的经济困境。

第二天早上,珀西瓦尔爵士让福斯科伯爵、劳拉还有我午饭后到书房来一下,谈一点事情。午饭前我们一同散步来到了湖边,在船屋里歇脚。

“有人说这湖很美,”珀西瓦尔爵士指着周围的景色说,“我觉得它很丑,像个发生凶案的地方,不是吗?你觉得呢,福斯科?”

“我亲爱的珀西瓦尔,”伯爵反对道,“这里的水太浅了,根本藏不住尸体,只有傻子才在这里谋杀。聪明人会选择别的地方。”

“聪明人不会去杀人的,”劳拉一面说着,一面不高兴地看着伯爵,“我相信你找不出一个聪明人犯罪的例子。”

“亲爱的夫人,”伯爵说,“我可找不出例子,因为聪明人犯罪不会让人知道。”

伯爵一边说着,一边摆弄着小笼子里的白鼠。他突然发现少了一只,但很快在一个座位底下找到了它,同时还发现了让他大吃一惊的东西。

“珀西瓦尔,快过来。你看这沙子,上面有血!”他说。

大家都很吃惊,我不得不告诉他们我发现那只受伤的狗的事情。

“谁的狗?”珀西瓦尔爵士问。

“管家说是凯瑟里克太太的。”我回答,忽然想起来这应该是秘密,可是太晚了。

“凯瑟里克太太到这儿来干什么?”

珀西瓦尔问得既气愤又无礼,我转过身去。福斯科伯爵拍了拍珀西瓦尔的胳膊。

“亲爱的珀西瓦尔!别着急,别着急!”

出乎我的意料,珀西瓦尔给我道了歉。伯爵接着说:“为什么不问问管家呢,珀西瓦尔?她好像知道事情的来龙去脉。”

珀西瓦尔爵士接受了这个建议,马上告辞回了庄园。

伯爵似乎对凯瑟里克太太非常感兴趣,想了解她那次来的所有情况。我尽量少透露信息,可是劳拉也问这问那。最后,我们知道的关于凯瑟里克太太以及她女儿安妮的情况,伯爵全都知道了。从伯爵惊讶的表情我可以断定,在这之前他对安妮·凯瑟里克一无所知。我很纳闷,为什么珀西瓦尔爵士不告诉他的好朋友这些事。

我们回到庄园,珀西瓦尔爵士过来同我们打招呼,“很抱歉,我得跟大家告辞。我要赶很长一段路,明天才能回来。不过,我想走之前了结那件小事。到书房来好吗?一会儿就好。”

来到书房,他从柜子里取出一份文件放到桌子上。文件是叠起来的,文字部分都遮住了,只能看见签字的部分。

他把一支笔递给劳拉,说:“在这儿签字吧。哈尔库姆小姐,你和福斯科等会儿再签。”

alt

“你要我签的是什么文件?”劳拉平静地问。

“我没时间解释,我得走了,就是一份公文,”珀西瓦尔很不高兴地说,“你们女人不懂,你就签字吧。”

“我当然有理由知道我签的是什么。”

“我明白了,你的意思是你不信任我!对吗?这叫什么妻子?”

我站在劳拉一边,说:“如果她不知道签的是什么,那我恐怕无法做证人。”

珀西瓦尔爵士愤怒地转向我,“你好大的胆子!你是我的客人,可却站在我妻子一边同我作对!”

“控制一下你的臭脾气,珀西瓦尔,”伯爵说,我听他对珀西瓦尔耳语:“你这笨蛋!”

劳拉放下笔,走到我身旁。

“格莱德夫人说的对,”伯爵说,“签字的事明天再说吧。”

珀西瓦尔爵士朝他破口大骂,但还是走开了。

“那好吧,”珀西瓦尔说,“那就等明天。不管怎样,我现在得走了。但是,你明天必须签字,否则——”他恶狠狠地瞪了他妻子一眼,然后走出了房间。

劳拉和我往外走的时候,伯爵走了过来。“你们刚才看到了珀西瓦尔爵士脾气最差的样子,”他说,“作为他的老朋友,我替他道歉。我保证他明天不会这样了。”

我开始明白,现在要是没有伯爵的帮助,我是不大可能接续呆在布莱克沃特庄园的。我真心地感谢了他。然后,我拉着劳拉上楼,到我的房间休息一会儿。

在我的房间里,劳拉告诉我结婚后珀西瓦尔爵士对待她多么冷酷,她多么不开心。我努力安慰她,帮她想办法解决签字的问题。忽然,我想到了给吉尔摩先生的合伙人克尔先生写信,问问他的意见。我在信里叫他派一个信使第二天1点之前把回信带过来。写完后,我把信放到了大厅的邮袋里。就在这时,福斯科夫人走过来,约我到花园里谈谈。她跟我足足说了半个小时她有多么同情我。我觉得非常奇怪,因为她以前根本就不在意我。

我回到屋里,看到福斯科伯爵也在往邮袋里放信。不知出于什么原因,我决定查看一下我的信是不是封好了。于是,我把我的那封信拿了出来。我还真做对了,我发现信封是开着的。好奇怪呀,我心里想。也许有人在捣鬼……

也许……

没错!不会是别的原因。

6
An appointment by the lake

After dinner that evening, Laura and I went for a walk down to the lake. The atmosphere was gloomy and depressing, but at least we were alone.

'I want to have no secrets from you, Marian,' Laura said, 'but I'm sure you have already guessed what my married life is like. Sir Percival said such cruel things to me in Italy that I turned for comfort to my memories of those happy days with Walter Hartright. And I have to tell you, Marian, Sir Percival now knows that Walter is the man I loved.'

I stared at her, and what little hope I had left began to die.

'It was at a party in Rome. Some people from London said I should have drawing lessons and recommended a Mr Hartright. I could not control myself when I heard his name and my husband noticed. "So it was him, was it?" he said, with a horrible smile. "Well, we will see about Mr Hartright. You will be sorry, and so will he, to the end of your lives." And Marian, he uses this knowledge like a whip to punish me, day in, day out.'

'Oh, Laura!' I said, putting my arms around her. This was my fault — yes, my fault! I remembered the white despair of Walter's face as I told him to leave, as I tore these two young hearts apart. And I had done this for Sir Percival Glyde.

For Sir Percival Glyde.

*  *  *

It was growing dark when we set out for home, and as we left Laura seized my arm. 'Marian, look!'

By the lake was a dark figure, half hidden by the evening mist rising off the water. We began to walk quickly.

'I'm sure it's following us,' whispered Laura. 'Is it a man or a woman?' She was shaking with fear.

'It's hard to tell in this light,' I said, then called out, 'Who's there?' There was no answer.

We hurried back through the wood, and when we reached home, I sent Laura upstairs and went to find out where everyone was. The Count and his wife, the servants, the housekeeper — all were inside. The figure by the lake was no one from the house. So who could it have been?

The next day Laura discovered she had lost her bracelet and thought she must have dropped it near the lake. She went off to look for it while I waited for the messenger from Mr Kyrle.

One o'clock came. By now I was so suspicious of everyone in the house that I decided to slip out and meet the messenger myself. Taking great care not to be seen, I went down to the main gate and a little way along the road. Soon a cab appeared. I stopped it and said, 'Are you going to Blackwater Park?'

A man put his head out and said, 'Yes, with a letter for Miss Halcombe.'

'You may give the letter to me,' I said. 'I am Miss Halcombe.'

I read the letter quickly.


Dear Miss Halcombe — Your letter has caused me great anxiety. It seems very likely that Lady Glyde's signature is needed so that a Loan of all or part of her £20,000 can be made to Sir Percival. This is almost certainly illegal, and Lady Glyde should not sign any document until I have examined it first.

Sincerely, William Kyrle.


I read this very thankfully and told the messenger to say that I understood the letter. As I spoke these words, Count Fosco came round the corner and suddenly appeared in front of me. Completely taken by surprise, I stared at him speechlessly. The messenger drove away in his cab, and the Count took my arm to walk home with me.

He talked pleasantly of this and that, and asked no questions about letters or messengers, so I assumed he had found out everything. He must have read my letter, returned it to the post-bag, and now knew that I had received an answer. There was no point in trying to deceive him so I said nothing, and just tried to seem quite cool and calm.

Back at the house we found that Sir Percival had returned, in an even worse mood than before, it seemed. When I told him Laura was out looking for her bracelet, he growled,

'Bracelet or no bracelet, I shall expect to see her in the library in half an hour.'

I turned to go into the house, but behind me heard the Count saying to Sir Percival, 'May I have five minutes' talk with you, here on the grass?'

They walked off together and I went inside to the sitting room, to think over all that had happened. Before long, however, the door opened softly and the Count looked in.

'Good news, Miss Halcombe,' he said. 'The business of the signature is put off for the moment. I'm sure you are relieved.'

He went out before I had recovered from my amazement. There could be no doubt that this change was due to his influence. His discovery of my writing to London and receiving an answer had caused him to interfere. Now there was even more to think about but, exhausted by worry and the heat of the day, my eyes closed and I fell into a little sleep.

I woke to find Laura's hand on my shoulder.

'Marian! The figure at the lake. I've just spoken to her! It's Anne Catherick. Look, she found my bracelet.'

Still half asleep, I stared at her stupidly. 'Anne Catherick?'

'Yes! I was searching in the boat-house,' Laura went on, 'when a woman in a white dress came in and said quietly, "Miss Fairlie. I have your bracelet. Your mother would not want you to lose it. "I jumped up, but her voice was so kind that I wasn't afraid. I asked her how she knew my mother. She said her name was Anne Catherick and asked me if I remembered as a little girl walking with her and my mother to the school in Limmeridge one day. I did remember. Suddenly I saw that we were like each other, but her face was pale and thin and tired. It was how my face might look after a long illness. "Why do you call me Miss Fairlie?" I asked, and she answered, "Because I love the name of Fairlie and hate the name of Glyde."'

'Did she say anything about your husband?' I asked.

'She said that after she wrote the letter, she did not have the courage to stay in Limmeridge to try to prevent my marriage to him. She was afraid he would find her and shut her up in the asylum again. But she was not afraid any more because she was so ill she thought she was dying. Then, Marian, she said that she and her mother knew a secret that my husband was afraid of.'

'Yes? Go on!' I said eagerly. 'What secret?'

'She was just going to tell me, when she thought she heard a noise outside. "We are not alone," she said, "someone is watching. Come here tomorrow at this time and I will tell you." Then she pushed me to one side and disappeared.'

'Oh, Laura, Laura, another chance lost! But you must keep the appointment tomorrow. It seems so important. I will follow you at a safe distance. She must not escape this time.'

We were silent for a time. Then Laura said anxiously, 'Why hasn't Sir Percival called us to the library to sign the document?'

'Oh yes! I forgot to tell you,' I said. 'Thanks to Count Fosco, the business of the signature has been postponed.'

'But why?' Laura said, amazed. 'If Sir Percival urgently needs money, how can it be postponed?'

'I heard Sir Percival's lawyer mention a second plan — to give a document promising payment in three months.'

'Oh, Marian!' she said. 'That would be such a relief.'

'Yes, it would. Let's hope that it's true.'

That evening Sir Percival was polite, even pleasant, especially to Laura. This must have been due to the Count's influence, and it worried me. What lay behind it? I was sure that Sir Percival's sudden journey yesterday had been to Welmingham, to question Mrs Catherick. What had he learnt? What were his plans? As the evening passed, I grew more and more uneasy, and I went to bed feeling very anxious about what the next day would bring.

*  *  *

I was not wrong to be anxious. The next day Laura and I arranged that after lunch she would go alone to the boat-house, and that I would follow a little later, taking great care that Anne Catherick did not see me, in case she was frightened by the appearance of another stranger.

Sir Percival had gone out earlier in the morning and did not appear even for lunch, so it was quite easy to put our plan into action. However, when I came quietly up to the back of the boat-house, I heard no voices, no sounds of movement, nothing. Soon I was searching inside the boat-house, and softly calling Laura's name. But no one answered and no one appeared. Outside, I searched the ground for signs, and found the footprints of two people in the sand — big footprints like a man's and small footprints, which I was sure were Laura's. There was also a little hole in the sand by the wall of the boat-house.

Desperate with worry, I hurried back to the house. The first person I met was Mrs Michelson, the housekeeper.

'Do you know,' I asked, 'whether Lady Glyde has come in?'

'Yes, she has, Miss Halcombe. And I am afraid something unfortunate has happened. Lady Glyde ran upstairs in tears and Sir Percival has told me to dismiss her servant, Fanny.'

My heart sank. Fanny was Laura's personal servant from Limmeridge, and the only person in the house we both trusted.

I ran upstairs to Laura's room. Her door was shut, and there was one of Sir Percival's house servants standing in front of it.

'Move away,' I said. 'Don't you see that I want to go in?'

'But you mustn't go in,' she answered. 'I have my orders.'

Wild with anger, I turned and went downstairs to find Sir Percival. He was in the library with the Count and Countess.

'Am I to understand that your wife's room is a prison?' I asked, staring him full in the face.

'Yes, that is what you are to understand,' he answered.

'Take care how you treat your wife!' I shouted furiously. 'There are laws to protect women, and I will use those laws.'

Instead of answering me, he turned to the Count. The Count looked at me with his calm, cold, grey eyes. But it was the Countess who spoke.

'Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Percival,' she said suddenly. 'But I cannot remain in a house where ladies are treated as your wife and Miss Halcombe have been treated today!'

Sir Percival stared at her in shocked silence, knowing, as I did, she would not have said this without the Count's permission.

'I agree with my wife,' the Count said quietly.

Sir Percival swore, then whispered angrily, 'All right, have your own way.' With these words he left the room.

'We have made the worst-tempered man in England see reason,' said the Count. 'Thanks to your courage, Miss Halcombe, this insulting situation is now ended.'

I tried to speak normally, but could not. The Count left the library, then returned a few minutes later to say that Lady Glyde had the freedom of her own house again. Immediately I rushed upstairs to Laura's room. She was alone inside and I was in such a hurry that I did not close the door properly behind me.

'Marian!' she said thankfully. 'How did you get here?'

'It was the Count's influence, of course,' I said.

'That horrible man!' she cried. 'He's a miserable spy!'

Just then we heard a knock on the door. It was the Countess, bringing me a handkerchief I had dropped. Her face was white, and I saw in her eyes that she had been listening at the door.

'Oh, Laura,' I said when she had gone, 'you shouldn't have called the Count a spy. We shall both regret it.'

'But he is a spy, Marian! There was someone watching me at the lake yesterday, and it was him. He told Sir Percival, who watched and waited all morning for me and Anne Catherick. But she didn't come — I found a note from her hidden in a hole in the sand. She said she'd been followed yesterday by a fat old man. He hadn't caught her, but she was afraid to come back this afternoon. She hid this note very early in the morning, and said she would see me again soon to tell me Sir Percival's secret.'

'What happened to the note?' I said. 'Have you got it?'

'No. While I was reading it, Sir Percival appeared. He took it from me and demanded to hear everything Anne Catherick had said. He held my arm so tightly! — look, see how he's bruised it. What could I do, Marian? I was helpless! I told him everything.'

I looked at the bruises on Laura's arm, and felt such furious hatred for Sir Percival that I dared not speak.

'But he didn't believe me,' Laura went on. 'He said he knew she had told me more and that he would lock me up until I had confessed the truth. Then he took me back to the house, gave orders for Fanny to leave, and locked me in my room. Oh, Marian, he was like a madman! What are we to do?'

'He is mad — mad with fear. He thinks you know his secret,' I said. 'I must act now to protect you — who knows how long I will be allowed to stay here?' I thought hard for a few minutes. 'I will write two letters and give them to Fanny to take with her. I can't trust the post-bag here any more. One for Mr Kyrle, telling him of your bruises and Sir Percival's violent behaviour.'

'And who is the other letter for?' asked Laura anxiously.

'For Mr Fairlie,' I said. 'Your lazy, selfish uncle. I'll make him invite you for a visit to Limmeridge, without your husband.'

I left her then and went to my room to write the letters. Fanny had already gone and was staying the night in the little hotel in the village, before beginning the long journey to Cumberland the next day. I decided I had time before dinner to walk to the village and back, so I slipped quietly out of the house and set off.

From time to time I looked behind me. Was I being followed? Or was my imagination playing tricks on me? By now I was suspicious of everything — every tiny sound, every shadow on the road, every breath of wind. Earlier, while writing the letters, I thought I had heard the rustle of a silk dress outside my door. I had even wondered if someone had been in my room, looking through the things in my desk. I hurried on, trying to put these thoughts out of my mind.

When I got to the little hotel, I saw Fanny in her room. She was very upset at leaving Laura, and started crying, but stopped when I told her that Lady Glyde and I needed her help.

'Here are two letters,' I said. 'Post the one addressed to Mr Kyrle in London tomorrow, and deliver the other to Mr Fairlie yourself when you get home to Limmeridge. Keep them safe!'

Fanny put the letters down the front of her dress. 'They'll stay there, miss,' she said, 'till I've done what you tell me.'


day in, day out one day after another 一天又一天地

seize v. take hold of forcibly or suddenly 紧紧抓住

illegal adj. contrary to law 不合法的

assume v. take or accept as being true, without proof 推想

growl v. murmur angrily 咕哝

put off postpone 推迟

exhaust v. use up the strength or resources of a person 筋疲力尽

postpone v. put off 推迟

footprint n. the impression left by a foot or shoe 脚印;鞋印

dismiss v. discharge from employment 辞退

hospitality n. the friendly and generous reception or entertainment of guests or strangers 热情款待

insulting adj. offending one self-respect or modesty 侮辱性的

bruise v. inflict a bruise on 使受淤伤

selfish adj. deficient in consideration for others 自私的

breath n. slight movement of air 轻风

6.湖畔之约

那天晚饭后,劳拉和我散步来到湖边。周围的环境昏暗而压抑,但至少我们可以单独在一起。

“我不愿对你有任何秘密,玛丽安,”劳拉开口说,“但是,我相信你已经猜到我婚后的生活是什么样子。在意大利,珀西瓦尔爵士跟我说了很多恶毒的话,我只能借助回忆同沃尔特·哈特里特在一起的幸福时光来寻求安慰。我得告诉你,玛丽安,珀西瓦尔爵士现在已经知道沃尔特是我所爱的人了。”

我的眼睛紧盯着她,心中仅存的一线希望也开始泯灭了。

“那是在罗马的一次聚会上,几个从伦敦来的朋友说我应该学学绘画,并向我推荐哈特里特先生。听到他的名字,我无法控制自己的感情,这些被我丈夫看到了。‘就是他,对吗?’他狞笑着问我,‘哈特里特先生的事我们走着瞧。你和他都会后悔一辈子的。’玛丽安,他抓住这件事一天又一天地折磨我。”

“噢,劳拉!”我搂住她。这都是我的错——是的,是我的错!我还记得我告诉沃尔特必须离开的时候,他脸上那惨淡绝望的表情。是我把两颗相爱的心拆开了。我这样做却成全了珀西瓦尔爵士。

成全了珀西瓦尔爵士。

*  *  *

天黑了下来,我们开始往回走。劳拉突然抓住我的胳膊,“玛丽安,你看!”

湖边有一个黑影,傍晚水面上升起的雾气遮住了我们的视线。我们开始加快脚步。

“我敢肯定有人跟踪我们,”劳拉低声说,“是男的还是女的?”她害怕得浑身发抖。

“在这样的光线里看不清,”我回答,然后大声喊道,“谁在那儿?”没有反应。

我们很快地穿过树林,回到家里。我把劳拉送上楼,然后就去查看家里的其他人都在哪儿。伯爵夫妇,仆人,管家——所有的人都在。湖边那个人影不是家里的人,那会是谁呢?

第二天,劳拉发现手镯丢了,她认为一定是丢在湖边了。她出去找手镯,我留在家里等克尔先生的信使。

1点到了。现在,我对家里的每个人都有怀疑,所以决定溜出去自己迎接信使。我尽量不让别人看见,独自来到大门口,又朝前走了一段。不一会儿,一辆马车过来了。我拦住车,问:“是去布莱克沃特庄园吗?”

一个男人探出头说:“是的,给哈尔库姆小姐送信。”

“把信给我吧,”我说,“我就是哈尔库姆小姐。”

我迫不及待地读了来信。

亲爱的哈尔库姆小姐,你的来信令我深感不安。情况很可能是只要有格莱德夫人的签字,珀西瓦尔爵士就可以借走她的20,000英镑或其中一部分,几乎可以肯定这是不合法的。任何我没有仔细看过的文件,格莱德夫人都不要签字。

此致,威廉·克尔

我满怀感激地读完信,告诉信使我明白了信的意思。正说着,福斯科伯爵突然从拐角那边走了出来,出现在我的面前。我没有任何思想准备,两眼盯着他,一句话也说不出来。信使赶车离开了,伯爵挽着我的手臂往回走。

路上,他兴致勃勃地说这说那,没有问任何关于信和信使的事,我想他已经什么都知道了。他肯定偷看了我的信,然后又放回到邮袋里,现在也知道我收到了回信。没有必要再瞒他什么,所以我什么话也不说,尽量表现得镇定。

回到庄园,我们发现珀西瓦尔爵士已经回来了,看上去情绪更加糟糕。我告诉他劳拉出去找手镯了,他生气地咕哝道:

“什么手镯不手镯的,我半小时后必须在书房见她。”

我转身朝屋里走,但听见身后伯爵对珀西瓦尔说:“我可以跟你在草坪上谈5分钟吗?”

他们俩一起走开了,我走进客厅,思考着刚发生的一切。不一会儿,门轻轻地开了,福斯科伯爵出现在门口。

“好消息,哈尔库姆小姐,”他说,“签字的事推迟了,我想你一定放心了吧。”

我还没来得及从惊讶中回过神来,他就出去了。毫无疑问,是他施加了影响才有现在的变化。他发现我给伦敦写信并且收到了回信,于是他开始干预。还有很多事需要考虑,但我实在累极了,再加上天热,我睁不开眼睛,就这么睡着了。

醒来后,我发现劳拉的一只手搭在我的肩上。

“玛丽安!湖边那个人影。我刚跟她谈过了!她是安妮·凯瑟里克。瞧,她找到了我的手镯。”

我还在半梦半醒之间,迷迷糊糊地看着她问:“安妮·凯瑟里克?”

“是的!我正在船屋里找手镯,”劳拉接着说,“一个穿白衣服的女人进来,轻声说:‘费尔利小姐,你的手镯在我这儿。你的母亲一定不希望你把它弄丢了。’我一下子跳了起来,但她的声音非常友善,我很快就不害怕了。我问她怎么认识我母亲。她告诉我她叫安妮·凯瑟里克,问我记不记得小时候有一天同她还有母亲一道去利默里奇的学校。我确实记得。我突然发现我们俩长得很相像,只是她的脸看上去苍白、消瘦、疲惫。我久病之后可能就是那个样子。‘你为什么叫我费尔利小姐?’我问她。她回答说:‘因为我喜欢费尔利这个姓,憎恨格莱德这个姓。’”

“她提到你丈夫了吗?”我问。

“她说她写完那封信以后,没有勇气再呆在利默里奇阻止我和他结婚。她害怕他找到她,再把她关进精神病院。但是现在她不怕了,因为她现在病得很厉害,就要死了。然后,玛丽安,她说她和她母亲知道一个令我丈夫非常害怕的秘密。”

“什么秘密?快说啊!”我急切地问,“什么秘密?”

“她刚要告诉我,就听见外面有响动。‘有人,’她说,‘有人在盯着我们。明天这个时间到这儿来,我再告诉你。’说完,她就推开我走了。”

“噢,劳拉,劳拉,又一个机会跑掉了!你明天一定要去,那个秘密一定非常重要。我跟你去,躲在远处不让她看见。这次可不能叫她再跑了。”

我们沉默了一会儿。然后,劳拉不安地问:“珀西瓦尔爵士怎么还没来叫我们去书房签字呢?”

“对了,我刚才忘了告诉你,”我说,“多亏了福斯科伯爵,签字的事推迟了。”

“为什么?”劳拉惊疑地问,“珀西瓦尔爵士那么急需钱,怎么会推迟呢?”

“我听珀西瓦尔爵士的律师提过另一个计划,要做一份保证三个月后还钱的文件。”

“噢,玛丽安!”她说,“那可太好了。”

“是很好,但愿这是真的。”

那天晚上,珀西瓦尔爵士对大家,尤其对劳拉,非常有礼貌,甚至可以说是非常好。这一定是伯爵的功劳,我对此很担心。这背后到底隐藏着什么?我想珀西瓦尔爵士昨天突然离开,肯定是去韦明翰找凯瑟里克太太了。他得到什么消息没有?他下一步想干什么?一个晚上,我越来越放心不下。睡觉时我对明天将要发生的事情异常担心。

*  *  *

我的担心没有错。第二天,劳拉和我商量好,午饭后她先一个人到船屋去,过一会儿我再去,尽量不让安妮·凯瑟里克看见我,以免她被我这个陌生人吓跑。

上午,珀西瓦尔爵士比往常出去得更早,连午饭也没来吃,因此我们实施计划也更容易一些。然而,我蹑手蹑脚来到船屋后面的时候,却听不到一点儿动静。我进去寻找,轻声叫着劳拉的名字。可是没有人回答,也没有人影。我来到屋外,仔细察看地面,发现沙地上有两个人的脚印——大一些的像是男人的,小一些的我敢肯定是劳拉的。船屋墙边的沙地上还有一个小坑。

我担心极了,赶忙回到庄园。我见到的第一个人是管家米切尔森太太。

“你知道格莱德夫人回来了吗?”我问。

“是的,她回来了,哈尔库姆小姐。可能出了什么不幸的事。格莱德夫人哭着跑上了楼,珀西瓦尔爵士叫我把她的仆人范妮辞退了。”

我的心一下子沉了下来。范妮是劳拉从利默里奇带来的贴身仆人,也是我们两人在这里唯一信任的人。

我跑上楼,来到劳拉的房门口。房门紧闭,珀西瓦尔的一个仆人站在门口。

“让开,”我大声说,“你没看见我要进去吗?”

“你不能进去,”仆人说,“我得听主人的吩咐。”

我肺都要气炸了,转身下楼去找珀西瓦尔爵士。他和伯爵夫妇正在书房。

“你妻子的房间是监狱吗?”我眼睛直盯着他问道。

“是的,你应该明白这点。”他回答。

“请注意你是如何对待你妻子的!”我愤怒地嚷着。“妇女受法律的保护,我会告你的。”

珀西瓦尔爵士没有接我的话,而是转向了伯爵。伯爵用他那平静、冷漠的灰眼睛看着我。但开口的是伯爵夫人。

“谢谢你的热情款待,珀西瓦尔爵士,”她突然说道。“但是,今天你的妻子和哈尔库姆小姐在这里受到如此的对待,我是不能再呆下去了!”

珀西瓦尔爵士目瞪口呆地盯着伯爵夫人,他跟我一样心里明白,没有伯爵的准许,她是不会说这番话的。

“我同意我妻子的话。”伯爵不紧不慢地说。

珀西瓦尔骂了一句,然后气哼哼地低声说:“好吧,你们要怎样就怎样吧。”说完,他走了出去。

“我们让英国脾气最坏的人明白道理了,”伯爵说,“多亏你的勇气,哈尔库姆小姐,这个令人难堪的局面终于结束了。”

我试图以正常的方式讲话,可是却做不到。伯爵走出了书房,几分钟后回来说,格莱德夫人在她自己的家里重获自由了。我立刻冲上楼来到劳拉的房间。她一个人在里面,我进去得太急了,没有关好门。

“玛丽安!”劳拉感激地说,“你是怎么进来的?”

“当然是伯爵帮的忙。”我回答。

“那个可怕的人!”她大声说,“他是个可恶的奸细!”

就在这时,我听到有人敲门。来的是伯爵夫人,她给我送刚才落在楼下的手绢。她脸色苍白,看了她的眼神,我就明白她一直在门口偷听。

“哦,劳拉,”伯爵夫人走了以后,我对劳拉说,“你不应该管伯爵叫奸细,我们都会后悔的。”

“他真的是奸细,玛丽安!昨天在湖边有人跟踪我,那人就是他。是他告诉珀西瓦尔的,珀西瓦尔整个上午都在等我和安妮·凯瑟里克。凯瑟里克没来,我在沙地小坑里找到一张纸条,上面说一个胖老头昨天跟踪她。那人没有抓住她,但是她今天下午不敢来了。她一大早就来藏了纸条,还说她会很快再来见我,告诉我珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。”

“那张纸条呢?”我问,“在你手里吗?”

“没有。我正在看的时候,珀西瓦尔爵士出现在我面前。他把纸条夺过去,要我告诉他安妮·凯瑟里克说了什么。他那么用力地抓我的手臂!——看,都青了。我能怎么办,玛丽安?我一点儿办法也没有,只好都告诉他了。”

我看着劳拉手臂上的伤,心里恨透了珀西瓦尔爵士却敢怒不敢言。

“可他还不相信我,”劳拉继续说道,“他说他知道凯瑟里克还告诉了我很多事,我不说实话,他就把我锁起来。然后他把我带回庄园,下令辞退范妮,还把我锁在房间里。噢,玛丽安,他简直像个疯子!我们该怎么办呢?”

“他是疯了——因为他害怕。他认为你知道了他的秘密,”我说,“我必须采取行动保护你——谁知道我还可以在这儿呆多久呢?”我冥思苦想了几分钟,“我要写两封信让范妮带走。我再也不能相信那个邮袋了。一封给克尔先生,告诉他你的伤和珀西瓦尔爵士的粗暴行为。”

“那另外一封呢?”劳拉迫不及待地问。

“给费尔利先生,”我回答,“你那懒惰、自私的叔叔。我要让他请你回一次利默里奇,不带你丈夫。”

离开劳拉,我回到自己的房间,开始写信。范妮已经离开了庄园,今晚住在村里的旅店,明天动身长途旅行去坎伯兰郡。我想我晚饭前有时间到旅店,然后再回来。所以,我悄悄地溜出庄园,朝村子走去。

我不时回头张望,看是否有人跟踪。或许是我的想象在作怪?现在,我开始怀疑一切——任何小的声响,路上的影子,一切风吹草动。刚才写信的时候,我觉得门外有丝绸衣服的响动。我甚至怀疑是否有人来我房间偷看过我桌子里的东西。我加快了脚步,尽量不去想这些。

来到小旅店,我在范妮的房间见到了她。离开劳拉让她难过得哭了起来。但是,当我告诉她格莱德夫人和我需要她的帮助时,她不哭了。

“这儿有两封信,”我说,“一封你明天到伦敦后寄给克尔先生,另一封你到利默里奇后亲手交给费尔利先生。一定把信收好。”

范妮把信塞到衣服里。“我把信放在这儿,小姐,”她说,“我会照你的吩咐去做。”

7
A conversation in the night

I arrived back at the house with only twenty minutes to get ready for dinner — and to slip into Laura's room to say that the letters were safely in Fanny's hands.

Laura looked pale. 'I'm not coming down to dinner,' she said. 'Sir Percival came to my door, shouting at me to tell him where Anne Catherick is.'

'At least that means he hasn't found her yet,' I said.

At dinner the Count looked hot and red in the face, and his clothes were a little untidy. Had he been out too, I wondered? He seemed troubled by some secret annoyance or anxiety, and was almost as silent as Sir Percival. At the end of the meal, when Madame Fosco and I left the table, the Count stood up too.

'Where are you going, Fosco?' Sir Percival said. 'Sit down and have another glass of wine. I want a quiet talk with you.'

'Not now, Percival. Later,' he answered.

Earlier in the day I had heard Sir Percival make the same request, and this was the second time the Count had postponed the talk. Why, I wondered? And what was it that Sir Percival wanted to discuss so urgently?

We went into the living room and Madame Fosco, usually so slow and deliberate in her movements, drank her tea at great speed and then slipped quietly out of the room. I began to leave too, but the Count stopped me, first by a request for more tea, then by asking my opinion on some music, and then by playing several noisy Italian songs on the piano. Eventually, I escaped from him and went up to Laura's room. Had she seen or heard anything of Madame Fosco, I asked? No, she had not. We talked together till ten o'clock, and then I went downstairs again to say goodnight. Sir Percival, the Count and his wife were sitting together in the living room. I noticed that Madame Fosco's face was now hot and red. Where had she been, and what had she been doing? As I looked at her, she gave a little smile, as though at some private joke.

I said goodnight to everybody, and as I left the room, I heard Sir Percival say impatiently to the Count, 'Come outside and have a smoke, Fosco.'

'With pleasure, Percival, when all the ladies have gone to bed,' replied the Count.

Up in my room, I could not stop myself thinking about this private discussion between Sir Percival and the Count, postponed all day and now, it seemed, about to take place in the silence and loneliness of the night. After a while, I went from my bedroom into my sitting room, and closed the door between the rooms. It was dark, as no candles were lit, and I looked out of the open window for some time, down into the blackness of the garden. There was a smell like rain in the still, heavy air.

Suddenly I saw two red points of light advancing in the dark and stopping below my bedroom window, inside which a candle was burning. One red point was small, the other was big. The Count smoking a cigarette, and Sir Percival smoking a cigar, I think. They could not see me in the darkness of my sitting room, so I waited to hear what they said.

'Why don't you come in and sit down?' Sir Percival said.

'Wait till we see that light go out,' replied the Count. 'When I know she's in bed, and I have checked the rooms on each side of the library, then we will talk.'

Such secrecy! I decided I must listen to this conversation, in spite of the Count's efforts to keep it private. The idea terrified me, but Laura's happiness — perhaps even her life — might depend on what I heard. How could I do it? I realized I could get out on to the flat verandah roof which ran past the bedrooms, about three feet below the windows. It was narrow, but there was room to move along it till I was above the library window. The Count and Sir Percival usually sat near the open window, smoking, and if they did, I would be able to hear them from above.

I went back to my bedroom, put on a long dark cloak with a hood, and put out the candle. Then, after a while, I returned to my sitting room and climbed out of the window on to the verandah roof. My heart began to beat very fast. I had to pass five windows — four were dark, but the fifth window was the Countess's room, and it looked out over the exact place above the library where I planned to sit. And there was still a light in it. I crept along the roof, then went down on my hands and knees to pass her window. As I passed, I looked up — and saw her shadow against the thin curtains at the window...

I stop breathing. Has she heard me? Will she look out? No, the shadow moves away, she's gone. Now I move to my position at the edge of the roof and begin to listen. Are they there, or have they gone elsewhere for their talk? Ah, I can hear the Count's voice.

'Miss Halcombe's light is out, the rooms next door are empty, the only window with a light in is my wife's — so now we may talk. We are at a serious crisis in our affairs, Percival, and we must decide about the future tonight.'

'It's a worse crisis than you think,' growls Sir Percival.

'Listen, Percival. This is our situation. We both came to this house in need of money and the only way of getting it was with the help of your wife. Now what did I tell you? I told you never to lose your temper with her, and especially never with her sister, Miss Halcombe. And have you remembered this? Not once. Your mad temper lost your wife's signature, lost the ready money, made Miss Halcombe write to the lawyer for the first time —'

'First time! Has she written again?'

'Yes, she has written again today.'

What! How does he know that? Did he follow me to the hotel? But even if he did, he couldn't have seen the letters — they went straight from my hand to Fanny's dress. So how does he know?

'You're lucky,' the Count continues, 'that you have me in the house to undo the harm that you do. Lucky that I said no when you were mad enough to make your wife a prisoner and keep her from Miss Halcombe. Can't you see that Miss Halcombe has the courage and understanding of a man? How I admire that woman! But she stands like a rock between us and that pretty little wife of yours. Now, the money. We have obtained a loan — a horribly expensive loan — by signing a document promising to repay it in three months. When the time comes, is there really no way to repay the money except by the help of your wife?'

'None.'

'What money do you actually get from your wife at present?'

'Only the income from her twenty thousand pounds.'

'Do you expect any more from your wife?'

'Absolutely nothing — except in the case of her death.'

'Aha! In the case of her death.'

A pause. It has begun to rain, and already I feel wet and cold.

Sir Percival again. 'If she leaves no children, I get her twenty thousand pounds.'

'Percival! Do you care about your wife?'

'Fosco! That's a very direct question.'

'Let's say your wife dies before the end of the summer — '

'Forget it, Fosco!'

'You would gain twenty thousand pounds.'

'Speak for yourself as well as for me, Fosco. You would also gain — my wife's death would be ten thousand pounds in your wife's pocket.'

'Percival, here is the position. If your wife lives, you pay that debt with her signature on the document. If your wife dies, you pay the debt with her death.'

The light in Madame Fosco's room goes out, and the verandah roof is now sunk in darkness. The rain continues. I Listen with every nerve in my body, memorizing word after word.

'Percival, you must now leave this matter in my hands. I have more than two months to find the solution, so let's not talk about it any more. Let me help you with your other difficulty — the difficulty that seems to have the name of Anne Catherick.'

'Look, Fosco, we may be friends, but we still have our secrets. This does not concern you. Please don't ask me about it.'

'My friend, I can respect a secret. So I won't ask you to tell me. But can I help you all the same?'

'If I don't find Anne Catherick, I'm a lost man. Both she and her mother know this — this secret. It could ruin me, Fosco. Anne Catherick has spoken to my wife and I'm sure she's told her.'

'But as your wife, surely it's in her interest to keep it a secret?'

'If she loved me, that would be true. But she's in love with someone she met before we married, a drawing teacher called Walter Hartright. And who helped Anne Catherick escape from the asylum? Hartright. Who saw her again in Cumberland? Hartright. He knows the secret, and my wife knows the secret. If they get together, they will use it against me.'

'Yes, yes, I see. Where is Mr Hartright?'

'Out of the country. He sailed for America.'

'Don't worry, then. I will deal with him if he ever comes back. Depend on it. But first we must find Anne Catherick. What about her mother? Can she be trusted?'

'It's in her interest not to tell anyone the secret.'

'Good. Now, how will I recognize Anne Catherick?'

'Easily. She's the pale, sickly likeness of my wife.'

A noise as a chair is pushed back. The Count has jumped to his feet and is walking about. He seems amazed.

'What!!! Are she and your wife related to each other?'

'Not at all.'

'And yet so alike? Well, I will know her when I see her.'

'What the devil are you laughing about, Fosco?'

'Just a thought, my good friend, just a thought. But enough for tonight. You will pay the debt and find Anne Catherick. I promise you. You can put your mind at rest, Percival.'

Not another word is spoken. I hear the library door close. I am wet to the skin, stiff and aching with the cold. At first I can't move, but slowly, painfully, I creep back to my window and climb in. As I fall on the floor, I hear the clock strike a quarter past one. Time passes. Somehow I manage to get up and put on dry clothes. I am burning hot — and shivering with cold. I know I must write down what I have heard, so I find paper and pen and write without stopping. The fever rises in me, burning, burning. I open the window for cool air...

Eight o'clock. Bright sunshine, which hammers at my eyes. My head aches, my bones ache, my skin burns, yet I cannot stop shivering. I lie down to sleep, my writing finished, and in my fever I see Count Fosco come into my room and read the pages I have written. He smiles. I am helpless — unable to move, speak, breathe... and I sink into the long, black night of illness...


untidy adj. not neat or orderly 不整齐的

deliberate adj. leisurely, unhurried 不慌不忙的

impatiently adv. lacking patience or tolerance 不耐烦地;着急地

go out put out 吹灭;熄灭

verandah n. an open area with a floor and a roof that is built on the side of a house on the ground floor 游廊

crisis n. time of danger or difficulty 危机

understanding n. the ability to understand or think 见识

memorize v. commit to memory 记住

in her interest as something that is advantageous to her 对她有利

hammer at inflict pain at 使疼痛

7.深夜密谈

我回到庄园时,只剩20分钟就要吃晚餐了——我还得溜进劳拉的房间,告诉她信已经安全地交给范妮了。

劳拉脸色苍白。“我不下楼吃晚饭了,”她说,“珀西瓦尔爵士刚来过,站在门口朝我大喊,要我告诉他安妮·凯瑟里克在哪儿。”

“这起码说明他还没找到她。”我说。

吃晚饭的时候,福斯科伯爵满脸通红,衣服也有些不整。他也出去了吗,我心里疑惑。他似乎有什么秘密的困扰,几乎和珀西瓦尔爵士一样一言不发。吃罢饭,伯爵夫人和我往外走的时候,伯爵也站起身。

“你去哪里,福斯科?”珀西瓦尔爵士问道,“坐下再喝一杯。我要同你单独谈一谈。”

“现在不行,珀西瓦尔。以后吧。”伯爵回答。

白天的时候我也听到珀西瓦尔爵士提出同样的要求,这是一天之内伯爵第二次推迟和珀西瓦尔谈话了。为什么呢?我不明白。珀西瓦尔爵士这么着急要和伯爵谈什么呢?

我们走进客厅,平常总是慢条斯理的伯爵夫人迅速地喝完茶,不声不响地走了出去。我也朝外面走,但是伯爵叫住了我。他先是要我帮他添茶,然后又问我对某些音乐的看法,还在钢琴上弹了几首闹哄哄的意大利曲子。最后,我才得以离开他,来到劳拉的房间。我问她有没有看见伯爵夫人或是听见她的动静?她说没有。我们俩一直聊到10点,我下楼跟大家道晚安。珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵夫妇都在客厅坐着。我注意到伯爵夫人的脸通红。她刚才去哪儿了,干什么去了?看到我在打量她,伯爵夫人笑了笑,好像我们两个私下开过什么玩笑似的。

我同大家道了晚安。离开客厅的时候,我听见珀西瓦尔爵士不耐烦地对伯爵说:“到外面来抽支烟,福斯科。”

“好的,珀西瓦尔。等女士们都去睡了以后。”伯爵说。

回到楼上的房间,我还在想珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵的密谈,拖了一天,到现在终于要在寂静的夜晚进行了。过了一会儿,我从卧室来到我的客厅,把房门关好。房间漆黑一片,没有点蜡烛。我透过窗子向外望了一会儿,外面的花园一片黑暗,宁静、潮湿的空气中有一种雨的味道。

突然,我看到黑暗中有两个红色的亮点在移动,然后在我卧室的窗下停住了,我卧室里点着一支蜡烛。一个亮点小,另一个大些。我想肯定是伯爵在抽烟卷,珀西瓦尔爵士在抽雪茄。我的客厅是黑的,他们看不见我。因此,我在客厅等着听他们说什么。

“为什么不进屋,坐下来谈?”珀西瓦尔爵士说。

“等到那蜡烛灭了再说,”伯爵说,“等她睡了,我再查看一下书房两边的房间,然后我们再谈。”

那么机密!不管伯爵怎样保密,我一定要听听这场谈话。这个想法使我很害怕,但是劳拉的幸福——甚或她的生命——可能都跟我听到的内容有关。我怎么去偷听呢?我想到可以从游廊的平顶上过去,平顶连着好几间卧室,比窗户大约低3英尺。顶子很窄,但还是可以过去,到达书房窗户的上面。伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士经常坐在敞开的窗子旁抽烟,如果是这样的话,我就可以从上面偷听他们的谈话了。

我回到卧室,穿上一件长长的带有兜帽的黑色斗篷,吹灭了蜡烛。呆了一会儿,我回到客厅,爬出窗户来到游廊的平顶上。我的心跳开始加速。我必须爬过五个窗子,其中四个已经没有了亮光,可第五个是伯爵夫人的房间,那儿恰好在书房上面,正是我要偷听的地方。而且,伯爵夫人的房间里还亮着烛光。我沿着平顶往前移动,然后手脚并用地爬过她的窗子。经过她窗下时,我抬头看了看——透过薄薄的窗帘看见她在窗前的身影……

我屏住呼吸。她是不是听见我在这儿了?她会向外看吗?没有,影子移开了,她走了。我来到平顶的边上,找好了偷听的位置。他们在这儿吗?会不会到别的地方去谈?啊,我听见伯爵的声音了。

“哈尔库姆小姐房间的蜡烛灭了,这两边的房间没人,唯一有亮光的窗户是我妻子的房间——好了,我们现在可以谈了。珀西瓦尔,我们的事现在出现了严重危机,今晚我们必须计划一下该怎么办。”

“事情比你想的还要糟。”珀西瓦尔爵士嘀咕着。

“听着,珀西瓦尔。这就是我们两人的处境。我们都是为了钱才到这个庄园来的,而得到钱的唯一途径是通过你的妻子。我跟你说过什么?我告诉你千万不要跟你妻子发脾气,尤其不能和她姐姐哈尔库姆小姐发脾气。可是你记住了吗?根本没有。你的坏脾气让我们失去了你妻子的签字,到手的钱没了,还让哈尔库姆小姐给律师写了第一封信——”

“第一封信?她又写信了吗?”

“是的,她今天又写信了。”

什么!他是怎么知道的?他是不是跟踪我去了旅店?但是就算他去了,也不会看到那两封信的——信是直接从我手里到了范妮的衣服里的。那他是怎么知道的呢?

“你很走运,”伯爵接着说,“有我在这儿帮你解决麻烦。你很走运,在你发疯一样把你的妻子当犯人关起来,不让她见哈尔库姆小姐的时候,我出来阻拦了你。你看不出来吗?哈尔库姆小姐具有男人一样的勇气和见识,我非常敬佩她!但是,她就像挡在我们和你那漂亮小妻子之间的一块巨石。现在说钱的问题。我们得到了一笔贷款——一笔代价极大的贷款——我们签了字,答应三个月后还钱。到时候,除了靠你妻子就没有任何办法还钱了吗?”

“没有。”

“你现在从你妻子那儿可以得到什么钱?”

“只有她那20,000英镑带来的收入。”

“你还能从你妻子身上得到更多的钱吗?”

“一分都没有——除非她死了”

“呵!除非她死了。”

谈话暂停了。天开始下雨,我感到身上又湿又冷。

珀西瓦尔爵士接着说:“如果她没留下孩子,我可以得到她那20,000英镑。”

“珀西瓦尔!你真的在乎你妻子吗?”

“福斯科!这个问题太直接了。”

“假如你妻子在夏末死去——”

“别说了,福斯科!”

“你会得到20,000英镑。”

“别光说我,还有你,福斯科。你也会受益,妻子死了,妻子口袋里就会装进10,000英镑。”

“珀西瓦尔,这就是现在的局面。如果你妻子活着,你需要得到她签字来还债;如果你妻子死了,你就用她的死来还债。”

福斯科夫人房间的烛光熄灭了,游廊顶上一团漆黑。雨还在下。我全神贯注地听着,把每个字都记在心里。

“珀西瓦尔,你现在必须把这件事交给我来办,我有两个多月的时间去想办法,现在咱们先不谈这个。让我来帮你解决另一个麻烦——那个好像和安妮·凯瑟里克这个名字有关的麻烦。”

“瞧,福斯科,我们或许是朋友,但我们都有各自的秘密。这件事与你无关。请你不要问我这件事。”

“我的朋友,我可以尊重你的秘密。我不问你的秘密是什么,但不管怎么说,我能帮你点儿什么吗?”

“假如找不到安妮·凯瑟里克,我就完了。她和她母亲都知道那个——那个秘密。那个秘密会毁了我,福斯科。安妮·凯瑟里克找过我妻子,我敢肯定她已经把秘密告诉我妻子了。”

“可是,作为你的妻子,保守这个秘密不也对她有好处吗?”

“如果她爱我,应该是这样的。但是,她爱上了一个她在我们结婚以前认识的人,一个叫沃尔特·哈特里特的绘画教师。是谁帮助安妮·凯瑟里克从精神病院逃走的?是哈特里特。又是谁在坎伯兰郡跟她见面?还是哈特里特。他知道这个秘密,我妻子也知道这个秘密。要是他们两个聚到一块儿,肯定利用这个秘密来对付我。”

“说的对,说的对,我明白了。哈特里特先生现在在哪儿?”

“在国外。他去美洲了。”

“那就不用担心了。他要是回来,我来对付他。你放心。不过我们还是要先找到安妮·凯瑟里克。她母亲呢?可信吗?”

“保守这个秘密对她有好处。”

“很好。不过我怎么才能认出安妮·凯瑟里克来?”

“这容易。她长得很像我妻子,只是脸色苍白,面容憔悴。”

我听见向后移动椅子的声响。伯爵站了起来,在屋里来回走动着,他显得非常惊讶。

alt

“什么!她跟你妻子有亲戚关系吗?”

“一点儿没有。”

“那就这么相像?我见到她会认出来的。”

“你到底在笑什么,福斯科?”

“只是一个想法,我的好朋友,一个想法而己。不过今晚就谈到这儿。你会还清债务,找到安妮·凯瑟里克的。我敢保证。你就放心吧,珀西瓦尔。”

谈话结束了。我听到书房的门关上了。我身上已经湿透,身体被冻得又僵又疼。起初整个人都动不了。我艰难地慢慢爬回我的窗边,爬进屋里。我跳到地板上时,听见钟响了,1点一刻。时间过得真快。我挣扎着起来,换上干衣服。我浑身发烫——同时也冷得打哆嗦。我明白我必须把听到的全都写下来,于是找出纸笔,开始不停地写起来。我烧得越来越厉害,浑身好像着了火。我打开窗户,让冷空气进来……

8点了。明媚的阳光使我的眼睛隐隐作痛。我头痛得非常厉害,全身酸痛,而且发烫,还不停地打哆嗦。我躺下睡觉,记录已经写完了。迷迷糊糊地,我看见福斯科伯爵进到我的房间,看了我写的东西。他笑了笑。我毫无办法——不能动,不能说话,不能呼吸……我陷入长长的昏迷,眼前一片黑暗……

8
Fever

While I lay unconscious in my illness, I knew nothing, of course, of the events happening around me. It was only much later that I learnt from other people what had happened.

When I eventually returned to Limmeridge, Fanny told me about the letters and the night she had left Blackwater.

'You left me at about seven, miss, and at nine o'clock I had another visitor — the Countess! Yes, I was so surprised. But she was very kind. She saw that I was upset at leaving and insisted on having some tea with me. So I drank my tea, and five minutes later I fainted — for the first time in my life! When I woke up, it was about half an hour later. A lady from the hotel was looking after me as the Countess had had to go home. I checked the letters in my dress, miss, and they were both there, quite safe.

'And just as you told me, in London I posted the letter to Mr Kyrle, and as soon as I got to Limmeridge, I delivered the other letter personally to Mr Fairlie. I told him all about being dismissed by Sir Percival and everything, and what had happened at the hotel, but, well, he didn't seem very interested, miss.'

That last piece of information did not surprise me in the least. Had Laura's uncle ever been interested in anybody except himself? When I went to talk to him, he was full of excuses.

'My nerves, dear Marian, remember my nerves! Yes, of course I will tell you about the letters, but please don't get excited and go around banging doors! Try to stay calm.'

'I suppose my letter about Laura upset you,' I said.

'Of course it did, dear Marian! What was I to do? You told me Laura needed to escape from her husband and to come to Limmeridge. But suppose Sir Percival had come after her? Think of the noise, the arguments, the banging of doors! That's why I wrote to you, to beg you to come here first by yourself, to talk the matter over with me.'

I never saw that letter, of course, as it arrived at Blackwater when I was unconscious with fever.

'And Mr Kyrle wrote to you as well, didn't he?' I said.

'Yes. He wrote to say he had received an envelope addressed to him in your handwriting, but which contained only a plain piece of paper without a word on it. He had written to you about it, and had received no reply. Why he expected me to explain this mystery, I had no idea. And that's what I told him.'

So helpful, I thought bitterly. But there was no point in saying anything. 'And were you surprised not to hear from me again?'

'Indeed I was, until my sister's foreign husband, that extraordinary Count Fosco, came to see me. Such a huge man!' said Mr Fairlie, his eyes closing at the memory. 'But surprisingly quiet on his feet. Anyway, he explained how ill you were, dear Marian, which was why you hadn't replied to my letter. I was extremely shocked and sorry to hear about your illness. But the Count did talk so much — I thought he would never leave!'

'And he persuaded you to write to Laura,' I said, trying to keep my voice calm and quiet.

'Yes, he urged me — in fact, practically ordered me — to invite Laura here at once. She was too nervous and upset to be of any use to you in the sick-room, he said, and the situation with Sir Percival was growing more dangerous every day. There was no trouble with the journey, because he and his wife had just rented a house in London. So Laura could travel up to London, stay the night with them, and travel on to Cumberland the next day.'

'So you wrote the letter and gave it to him,' I said.

'Where was the harm in it? In any case, I never for a moment thought that Laura would leave you alone when you were so ill. And how was I to know what shocking event was about to take place? No one could possibly say that I was to blame …'

*  *  *

I know now exactly who was to blame, but it took quite a time to put all the different pieces of information together. When I first began to be aware of my surroundings again during my recovery, I knew nothing, of course, about the letters. I knew only that I was not in my usual bedroom and there was a foreign lady looking after me. I had no idea who she was and she would not answer any of my questions. So I was very relieved a few days later when the familiar face of Mrs Michelson appeared.

'Oh, Mrs Michelson,' I said, 'I'm so glad to see you. Please tell me what's been happening.'

'You've had typhus fever, Miss Halcombe. You've been very ill. But you're getting stronger now, I'm happy to say.'

'Typhus! No wonder I feel so weak. And my sister, Lady Glyde — I do hope she didn't catch the infection?'

'No, no, she didn't.'

Mrs Michelson would not look me in the face, and I began to feel worried. Was she afraid to tell me something?

'Is my sister ill? Please, Mrs Michelson, I must know!'

'No, she's not ill. But... but she's not here. She went away yesterday to London, and is going on to Limmeridge today.'

I stared at her. Laura gone? I could not believe it. What did it mean? Had something terrible happened? I remembered the conversation I heard during the night on the verandah roof, and my heart filled with fear.

'And Sir Percival …?' I could not finish my question.

'Sir Percival left the house last night, to go abroad,' she said. 'The Count and Countess have gone to London, and the servants have all been dismissed, except for a cook and the gardener. You and I are the only people living in the house, Miss Halcombe.'

The shock of this news was so great that I felt faint. Mrs Michelson hurried to fetch me a glass of water.

'Oh, Miss Halcombe, I'm sorry,' she said. 'Try not to worry. You must rest now, and try to sleep a little.'

Later, when I felt stronger, we talked again. 'Tell me everything you can remember, from the day I fell ill,' I begged Mrs Michelson. 'I must know what happened.'

'Well, Miss Halcombe, on that first morning a servant found you, lying on your bed in a fever, holding a pen tightly in your hand. The doctor was called at once, a Mr Dawson, who said you were very ill. The Countess and I acted as your nurses — Lady Glyde wanted to help, but she was so upset at seeing you unconscious that she couldn't stop crying.

'Sir Percival and the Count were concerned about you too, though they seemed worried about something else as well. In fact, the Count spent three days down by the lake, at that old boat-house, and I remember he came in once when I was going through the hall. Sir Percival came rushing out of the library, saying, "Have you found her?" I didn't hear the answer and I have no idea who they were talking about.'

I had a very good idea who they were talking about, but it was obvious that Mrs Michelson didn't, so I said nothing.

'Your fever got worse,' Mrs Michelson went on. 'The Count said we needed a nurse to help us, so Madame Fosco took the train to London and came back with Mrs Rubelle.'

'Is that the foreign lady who was looking after me before you appeared, Mrs Michelson?' I asked.

'Yes, that's right. She didn't say very much, but she was a capable nurse. I had no complaints about her work. Mr Dawson, the doctor, was suspicious of her because she was recommended by the Count, and he didn't like the Count at all.'

'Why was that?' I asked.

'The Count had a lot of medical knowledge, you see, and he was always suggesting to Mr Dawson ways of reducing your fever. Mr Dawson called it interference and got quite angry about it. But in fact, miss, the Count recognized you had typhus fever before Mr Dawson did. He — the Count, that is — went away to London for a week, and when he came back, he took one look at you and said "Typhus". Mr Dawson sent to London for another doctor, who came and said the same thing. Then we had a very worrying ten days, when your life was in danger, but at last the doctor said you were through the worst and with good nursing care you would recover. Lady Glyde was so overcome by this happy news that she became ill herself and had to be put to bed.'

'My sister has always had delicate health,' I said.

'Yes, she's not strong. Anyway, Miss Halcombe, it was at this point that disturbing things started to happen. First, the Count and Mr Dawson argued again so fiercely that Mr Dawson left, saying he refused to offer his services any more. Next, Sir Percival told me that he was going to close the house. As soon as you and Lady Glyde were able to travel, he said, you would be going away for a change of air. He told me to dismiss all the servants, except a girl to do the cooking, and a gardener. Imagine! Just like that! I tell you, Miss Halcombe, if I hadn't felt so sorry for you and Lady Glyde, I would have resigned at once!

'The last thing was very strange indeed,' said Mrs Michelson, shaking her head. 'Sir Percival said that you and Lady Glyde would benefit from a stay at the seaside town of Torquay. He told me to go there to look for a suitable house to rent, and told me how much money I could pay. Well, I knew it wasn't enough, and I wish now that I hadn't gone, but he was my employer so I thought I had to obey his orders. I returned yesterday, after two days away, and told Sir Percival that it was impossible to find a house at such a low rent. Sir Percival showed no interest in my news at all. He just said that the Count and Countess had left Blackwater Park for their new house in London.'

Mrs Michelson looked at me anxiously. 'I think you'll find the next part of the story very upsetting,' she said. 'Poor Lady Glyde was cruelly deceived by her husband.'

'You don't surprise me,' I murmured. 'Please go on.'

'After seeing Sir Percival, I went upstairs to see you and Lady Glyde. Your sister, though still very weak, was feeling better and wanted to get up and go and visit you in your room. I helped her to dress and as we went down the passage, we met Sir Percival.

'"If you're going to see your sister, you won't find her," Sir Percival says. "She left the house yesterday with Fosco and his wife. She decided to go with them to London, on her way to Limmeridge. Mrs Rubelle went too, to look after her on the journey. You can look in her room if you don't believe me."

'I was shocked and amazed by this, and Lady Glyde's face went as white as a sheet. She almost ran down the passage and threw open the door to your room. It was empty.

'Then she cries out to Sir Percival, "Marian was much too ill to travel. Even if she did go, she would never leave without saying goodbye to me first. And why would she go to Limmeridge alone, leaving me here at Blackwater Park?"

'"Because your uncle won't receive you till he has seen your sister first," says Sir Percival. "Have you forgotten the letter he wrote to her at the beginning of her illness?"

'All through this interview, Miss Halcombe, I thought Sir Percival seemed very strange — jumpy and nervous, not at all his usual self. And now he just turned and walked away. Lady Glyde was shaking with fear, and looked at me with terror in her eyes. "Something's happened to my sister. I must follow her — I must see that she's alive and well with my own eyes. Please, Mrs Michelson, come down with me to Sir Percival. Stay with me, please!" She held my arm so tightly that I had to go with her.

'Sir Percival was in the dining room, drinking. He drank at least four glasses of wine while we were in there, Miss Halcombe. Lady Glyde was very brave, I thought. She said, "If my sister is well enough to travel, then so am I. Please allow me to follow her at once by the afternoon train."

'Sir Percival was so rude and rough with her. "You can go tomorrow," he said. "I'll write to Fosco. He can meet you at the station and you'll stay at his house overnight."

'Lady Glyde's hand began to tremble violently on my arm. "I would rather not stay at the Count's house," she said.

'Sir Percival then got very angry. "Why not?" he shouted." What's wrong with sleeping at your aunt's house? Your sister slept there last night to break her journey, and so will you. That's what your uncle, Mr Fairlie, wants you to do as well. Here — there's a letter from him. I forgot to send it up to you."

'Poor Lady Glyde was shaking so much that she gave me the letter to read to her. It was very short. I remember it, word for word: Dear Laura, please come whenever you like. Break the journey by sleeping at your aunt's house. Sorry to hear of Marian's illness. Your fond uncle, Frederick Fairlie.

'Lady Glyde didn't try to argue any more, and we went back upstairs. It seemed quite a sensible plan to me, Miss Halcombe, and I couldn't understand why Lady Glyde was so terrified of Count Fosco. She walked up and down her room, whispering, "Poor Marian — in that horrible man's power! I must find her, even if I have to follow her to Count Fosco's house."

'The next day I helped Lady Glyde get ready and went with her to the station. "If Marian has already left for Limmeridge, I won't stay at the Count's house," she told me. "I'll go and stay with Mrs Vesey, my old governess." As the train pulled away, I saw her pale, frightened face at the window. I felt so sad for her.

'Then I came back here. Imagine my surprise, Miss Halcombe, when I saw Mrs Rubelle walking in the garden! "What are you doing here?" I said. "You went to London with the Foscos and Miss Halcombe!" And then it all came out. You were still in the house. While I was out of the way in Torquay, they moved you to a room in an unused part of the house and kept you hidden. You must have been in a very deep sleep when they moved you. Perhaps they drugged you — I don't know. Then Sir Percival appeared and gave me this explanation. It was all for his wife's own good, he said. She needed a change of air, and would not have gone to Limmeridge if she had known that you were still in the house. He spoke in such a violent, angry way that I did not dare to express my opinion.

'So you see, Miss Halcombe, that was how poor Lady Glyde was deceived. It was wicked and cruel. I would have resigned my position immediately, but Sir Percival told me that Mrs Rubelle was leaving and there would be no one to look after you if I left too. So, naturally, I stayed. Sir Percival left last night, as I told you. The gardener said he seemed half mad. He called for his carriage, and drove away like an escaped criminal, saying his house was a prison and he would never return to it. I hope and pray, Miss Halcombe, that I never see that man again.'

Poor Laura — how she must have suffered! There was nothing I could do. I could not go after her as I was too weak even to stand. I hoped desperately that she had found out about the deception and would write soon to tell me that she was safe.

*  *  *

A letter came a few days later, but it was not for me, and not from Laura. It was for Mrs Michelson from Madame Fosco.

Mrs Michelson came into my room with the letter in her hand. Mr Dawson, who had agreed to be my doctor again now that the Count had gone, was behind her. I took one look at both their faces, and sat up in bed, terrified.

'What is it?' I gasped. 'You have some dreadful news for me. I can see it in your faces.'

Mrs Michelson sat down on the edge of the bed and took my hand. 'Your poor, dear sister, Lady Glyde...' she began.

The room began to darken around me, as though night was falling, and the words seemed to come from a great distance.

'... was taken seriously ill when she arrived at her aunt's house in London, and died the next day, very suddenly. She is to be buried at Limmeridge, in her mother's grave.'

*  *  *

Kind Mrs Michelson nursed me through my second illness, with Mr Dawson's help. I was not able to travel for more than three weeks, but eventually I found the strength to leave that hated house and return to Limmeridge. Mrs Michelson and I travelled together to London, where I went to see Mr Kyrle. To him I revealed the terrible suspicions in my mind about the circumstances of my sister's death. He was most concerned and promised to make enquiries for me.

I went on to Limmeridge House and a few days later Mr Kyrle wrote to me there. He had taken statements from several witnesses, he said, and was convinced that nothing suspicious had happened. He sent copies of the statements for my information. This was the one by the Count's cook, Mrs Hester Pinhorn:


I was recently employed as a cook by the Count and Countess Fosco at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. One day near the end of July, the Countess's niece, Lady Glyde, arrived at the house. She immediately fell ill. I saw her lying on the sofa, her face all white. I ran out for a doctor and came back with Mr Goodricke. He examined her and said she had a very serious heart disease. During the night she got worse. Then, at about five o'clock the next day, she lost consciousness. The doctor went in and, after putting his hand on her heart, announced that she was dead. He said that, as the Count was a foreigner, he himself would go to record the death at the district office. The Count and Countess were very badly affected by the lady's death. The lady's husband was abroad, so they arranged the funeral themselves, which took place in Cumberland.


I was still very weak from my long illness, and despair nearly overtook me at this point. I had no friend to turn to, and no idea what to do next. I went every day to the churchyard, to put flowers on the grave and to read again those sad, sad words.


In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde

Wife of Sir Percival Glyde, of Blackwater Park, Hampshire

Born 27th March 1829

Died 25th July 1850


personally adv. in person 亲自

practically adv. almost 几乎

rent v. use at a rent

typhus n. a serious infectious disease 斑疹伤寒

catch the infection be affected by the infectious disease 被传染

be through have passed 度过

fiercely adv. violently 激烈地

obey v. carry out a command 服从

jumpy adj. making sudden movements 躁动的

pull away (of a train ) leave (火车)离开;开走

drug v. to give someone a drug, esp in order to make them feel tired or go to sleep 用药麻醉

for one's good for one's interest 为了……的利益;为了……好

be convinced be certain that something is true 确信

announce v. make publicly known 宣布

overtake v. overwhelm 击垮

8.高烧

我在床上昏睡着,对周围发生了什么当然一无所知。很长时间以后,我才从别人那里得知出了什么事。

后来,我回到利默里奇,范妮告诉我那两封信的事以及她离开布莱克沃特那天晚上发生的事情。

“你从我那儿走的时候是7点钟,9点钟又来了一位客人——是伯爵夫人!没错,我非常吃惊。但她特别和善。她看出我在为离开而难过,就坚持要和我喝茶。我喝了茶,5分钟后就晕过去了——这可是我头一回晕过去!我醒的时候已经过了大约半小时。旅店的一位女士在照看我,伯爵夫人已经回去了。我检查衣服里的信,两封信都在,很安全。

“我照你说的,在伦敦把给克尔先生的信寄了出去,一到利默里奇,就把另一封信亲自交给了费尔利先生。我告诉他,我被珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了,还有在那边发生了什么以及旅店的事情,但是他好像对这些都没什么兴趣,小姐。”

对最后一点,我丝毫不觉得奇怪。劳拉的这个叔叔,除了对他自己的事还对什么有兴趣?我去找他谈的时候,他满嘴借口。

“我的神经,亲爱的玛丽安,别忘了我的神经不好!是的,我当然会告诉你信的事,可是请你不要激动,不要总那么使劲儿关门!请你保持冷静。”

“我想我写给你关于劳拉的信让你担心了吧。”我说。

“当然让我担心了,亲爱的玛丽安!我该怎么做呢?你说劳拉需要逃离她丈夫,回到利默里奇来。但是,如果珀西瓦尔爵士随后过来找她怎么办?想想那会有多少噪音、吵闹、摔门声!这就是我为什么给你写信,叫你自己先回来,跟我谈谈这件事。”

我当然没见过那封信,因为信到布莱克沃特的时候,我正发着高烧,昏睡不醒。

“克尔先生也给你写信了,是吗?”我问。

“是的,他写信给我说,他收到一个署名给他的信封,是你的笔迹,但是里面只有一张白纸,一个字也没有。他给你写过信,但没收到回音。我不明白他为什么叫解释这个迷,我就这么跟他说的。”

真是挺帮忙的,我心里恨恨地想。现在说什么也没用了。“再没接到我的来信,你不感到奇怪吗?”

“我的确感到奇怪,直到我的那个外国妹夫,福斯科伯爵过来看我,我才明白发生了什么。他可真胖!”费尔利先生闭上眼睛,陷入回忆之中,“但是他走路却很轻。他告诉我你病得非常厉害,所以没有回信。听说你生病我非常震惊,也很难过。可是,伯爵没完没了地跟我说话——我简直觉得他不想走了!”

“是他让你给劳拉写信的吧。”我尽量用平和的语气说。

“是的,他请求我——实际上是命令我——让劳拉马上回到这儿来。他说劳拉非常紧张害怕,在你的房间里也帮不了什么忙。而且珀西瓦尔爵士一天比一天危险。旅途中不会有问题,因为他和妻子刚刚在伦敦租了一栋房子,劳拉可以先到伦敦,在他们那里住一晚,第二天再赶往坎伯兰郡。”

“所以,你就写了那封信,让他拿走了?”我问。

“这有什么不好吗?不管怎样,我根本不相信劳拉会在你病重的时候丢下你不管。而且我怎么知道将要发生什么事?谁也不能把事情怪到我头上……”

*  *  *

现在我知道究竟是谁在搞鬼了,但是把各种消息都串起来颇费了一些时间。我刚从昏迷中醒来,注意到周围的时候,对信的事自然一无所知。我只知道自己不在原来的卧室,一位外国女士在旁边照顾我。我不知道她是谁,她也不回答我的任何问题。因此,几天后当米切尔森太太熟悉的脸出现在我面前时,我大大地松了一口气。

“噢,米切尔森太太,”我说,“见到你真是太高兴了。快告诉我到底发生了什么?”

“你得了斑疹伤寒,哈尔库姆小姐。你病得很厉害。不过,我很高兴你现在恢复得很好。”

“斑疹伤寒!怪不得我这么虚弱。我妹妹,格莱德夫人——我希望她没被传染吧?”

“没有,她没有被传染。”

米切尔森太太不敢正眼看我,我开始担心起来,她是不是害怕告诉我什么事情?

“我妹妹病了吗?米切尔森太太,我必须知道真相!”

“没有,她没病。不过……不过她已经不在这儿了。她昨天去了伦敦,准备今天去利默里奇。”

我盯着她。劳拉走了?我不信。这说明什么呢?出了可怕的事?我记起了在游廊顶上听到的谈话,心里充满了恐惧。

“那珀西瓦尔爵士……?”我无法把话讲完。

“珀西瓦尔爵士昨晚离开庄园,到国外去了,”她说,“伯爵夫妇去了伦敦,仆人们全都遣散了,就剩下一个厨师和一个园丁。庄园里只有你和我了,哈尔库姆小姐。”

这个消息对我的震动太大,我感到一阵眩晕,米切尔森太太赶忙去为我拿了杯水来。

“哦,哈尔库姆小姐,真抱歉,”米切尔森太太说,“你别担心,一定要好好休息,试着睡一会儿吧。”

后来,我身上有些力气了,我们又聊起来。“告诉我,自从我生病那天起都发生了什么?”我恳求米切尔森太太,“我一定要知道出了什么事。”

“好吧,哈尔库姆小姐。头一天早上,一个仆人发现你躺在床上,发着高烧,手里还紧紧握着钢笔。我们很快叫来了一位医生,道森先生。他说你病得很厉害。伯爵夫人和我一起照顾你——格莱德夫人也想帮忙,但是看到你昏迷的样子,她很难过,不住地哭。

“珀西瓦尔爵士和伯爵也都为你担心,不过他们两人好像还在为别的事担心。实际上,伯爵在湖边呆了三天,就在那个老船屋里。我记得他有一次回来,我正路过大厅。这时,珀西瓦尔爵士从书房冲出来问他:‘找到她了吗?’我没听到回答,也不知道他们说的是谁。”

我非常清楚他们说的是谁,明显米切尔森太太不知道,所以我没有说话。

“你烧得越来越厉害,”米切尔森太太接着说,“伯爵说我们需要找一个护士帮忙,于是福斯科夫人坐火车去了伦敦,带回了鲁贝尔太太。”

“就是那位在你来之前照顾我的外国女士吗,米切尔森太太?”

“对,就是她。她很少说话,但很能干。我对她干活儿挑不出任何毛病。道森先生,那位医生,对她有怀疑,因为她是伯爵推荐的,而道森先生一点儿也不喜欢伯爵。”

“为什么呢?”我问。

“你知道伯爵懂得许多医学知识,他不断地向道森先生提出给你退烧的办法。道森先生非常生气,说这是干涉他的工作。但实际上,小姐,伯爵比道森先生更早地看出你得了斑疹伤寒。他——我是说伯爵——到伦敦去了一星期,回来后看了你一眼就说是‘斑疹伤寒’。道森先生从伦敦又请来一位医生,也说是斑疹伤寒。接下来的十天我们大家都非常担心,你当时有生命危险。不过最后,医生说你已经度过了危险期,只要得到精心照顾,就会好起来。听到这个好消息,格莱德夫人过于高兴,结果她自己病倒了,不得不卧床休息。”

“我妹妹的身体一直很弱。”我说。

“是的,她的身体不太好。不过,哈尔库姆小姐,就在这个时候,令人心烦的事接二连三地发生了。先是伯爵和道森先生大吵了一架,道森先生走了,他说不愿意再干了。然后,珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我他准备关闭庄园。他说等你和格莱德夫人能出门旅行了,就应该离开这里,换换环境。他让我辞退了所有的仆人,只留下一个女仆做饭,还有一个园丁。真是难以想象!就是这样!我跟你说,哈尔库姆小姐,要不是担心你和格莱德夫人,我当时马上就不干了!

“最后一件事非常奇怪,”米切尔森太太摇摇头接着说,“珀西瓦尔爵士说,你和格莱德夫人到海滨小城托基呆一段时间会对你们有好处。他叫我去那里找一栋合适的房子租下来,还告诉我只能花多少钱。唉,我知道钱不够。我现在真希望没去那个地方,但他是东家,我想我不能不听他的吩咐。我走了两天,昨天回来的。我告诉珀西瓦尔爵士用那么少的钱根本不可能租到房子。他对我的回复一点儿也不感兴趣,只是说伯爵夫妇已经离开布莱克沃特,去伦敦的新居了。”

米切尔森太太不安地看着我。“我想下面的事情一定会让你难过,”她说,“可怜的格莱德夫人让她丈夫骗惨了。”

“我不会感到惊讶的,”我轻声说,“请接着讲。”

“见过了珀西瓦尔爵士,我上楼去看你和格莱德夫人。你妹妹虽说还很虚弱,但已经好多了。她要起来到你的房间看你。我帮她穿好衣服。在走廊里我们碰到了珀西瓦尔爵士。

“‘如果你是去看你的姐姐,你不会找到她了,’珀西瓦尔爵士说,‘她昨天同福斯科夫妇离开了这里。她决定跟他们顺路到伦敦,然后去利默里奇。鲁贝尔太太也走了,她要在路上照看你姐姐。你要是不信我的话,可以到她的房间看看。’

“听到这些,我大吃一惊。格莱德夫人的脸变得煞白。她几乎在走廊里跑起来,一把推开你的房门,里面空无一人。

“然后她冲着珀西瓦尔爵士叫起来:‘玛丽安病得那么厉害,根本不能旅行。即使要去的话,她也不会不跟我道别就走。为什么她要一个人去利默里奇,把我留在布莱克沃特?’

“‘因为你叔叔要先跟你姐姐见面,再见你,’珀西瓦尔爵士说,‘难道你忘了在你姐姐刚病的时候,他写来的信了吗?’

“整个谈话中,哈尔库姆小姐,我觉得珀西瓦尔爵士显得很怪——又烦躁,又紧张,跟平时的他一点儿也不一样。说完,他就转身走开了。格莱德夫人害怕得直哆嗦,她看着我,眼睛里充满了恐惧。‘我姐姐出事了。我必须去找她,我必须亲眼看到她平安无事。米切尔森太太,请和我一起去找珀西瓦尔爵士。请陪我去!’她紧紧地抓着我的胳膊,我只好跟她一起下楼。

“珀西瓦尔爵士在餐厅喝酒,我们在的那一会儿,他就至少喝了四杯,哈尔库姆小姐。我觉得格莱德夫人很勇敢。她说:‘如果姐姐可以旅行,那我也可以。请允许我乘下午的火车去追她。’

“珀西瓦尔爵士对她非常无理、粗暴。‘你可以明天去,’他说,‘我会给福斯科写信。他会到车站接你,你晚上就住他那里。’

“格莱德夫人扶着我胳膊的手开始抖得很厉害。‘我不想住在伯爵家。’她说。

“珀西瓦尔爵士发怒了。‘为什么?’他大声嚷道,‘在你姑妈家过夜有什么不好?你姐姐昨天途中就是在那里过夜的,你也一样。这也是你叔叔费尔利先生的要求。给——这是他的信,我忘了给你了。’

“可怜的格莱德夫人哆嗦得很厉害,她把信交给我,让我念给她听。信很短,我还一字不差地记着:亲爱的劳拉,请在方便的时候回来。途中在姑妈家过夜。听说玛丽安病了,我非常难过。爱你的叔叔,弗雷德里克·费尔利。

“格莱德夫人没有再继续争下去,我们两人回到楼上。我觉得这样做很明智,哈尔库姆小姐,我不明白格莱德夫人为什么那么害怕福斯科伯爵。她在房间里走来走去,轻声自言自语:‘可怜的玛丽安——落到那个可怕的人手里!我一定要找到她,哪怕是到福斯科伯爵家里也要找到她。’

“第二天,我帮格莱德夫人准备好一切,陪她来到车站。‘如果玛丽安已经回利默里奇了,我就不住在伯爵家,’她告诉我,‘我会去找维西夫人,我原来的家庭教师。”火车开的时候,透过车窗我看到她苍白、恐慌的脸。我很为她难过。

“然后我回到这儿,竟然看到鲁贝尔太太在花园散步,哈尔库姆小姐,你知道我有多么惊讶!‘怎么在这儿?’我问,‘你不是和福斯科伯爵一家还有哈尔库姆小姐去伦敦了嘛!’后来事情慢慢都清楚了。你还在庄园。趁我去托基的时候,他们把你搬到了庄园里一个没人住的房间藏起来了。他们搬动你的时候,你肯定在昏睡。也许他们给你吃了药——我不清楚。这时,珀西瓦尔爵士过来给了我如下的解释。他说这一切都是为了他妻子好,她需要换个环境,假如她知道你还在庄园,是不会去利默里奇的。他说话时怒气冲冲的,我没敢说什么。

“你看,哈尔库姆小姐,这就是可怜的格莱德夫人受骗的经过。多么恶毒、多么不近人情。我本来要马上辞职的,但是珀西瓦尔爵士告诉我,鲁贝尔太太要走了,要是我也走的话,就没人照顾你了。这不,我就又留了下来。珀西瓦尔爵士是昨晚离开的,我刚才告诉过你。听园丁说,他跟疯了似的。他吩咐准备马车,然后仿佛落荒而逃的囚犯般驾车走了,嘴里还说什么这个家像个监狱,他再也不想回来了。我真的希望,哈尔库姆小姐,我再也不会见到那个人了。”

可怜的劳拉——她肯定受了很多罪!我现在一点儿办法也没有,也无法去追她,我现在虚弱得站都站不起来。我真的希望劳拉能够发现这个骗局,尽快地给我写信,告诉我她平安无事。

*  *  *

几天后来了一封信,但不是给我的,也不是劳拉写来的,而是福斯科夫人写给米切尔森太太的。

米切尔森太太拿着那封信走进我的房间,后面跟着道森先生,他同意继续为我看病,因为伯爵已经走了。我看到他们两人的神色,从床上坐起来,心里很害怕。

“出了什么事?”我急切地问,“你们有可怕的消息要告诉我。我从你们的脸上能看出来。”

米切尔森太太在我的床边坐下,握住我的手。“你那可怜的、亲爱的妹妹,格莱德夫人……”她说。

我的周围变得一团漆黑,就像夜色降临一样,下面的话似乎是从很遥远的地方传来的。

“……她到伦敦的姑妈家以后就病倒了,第二天就死了,死得非常突然。她将被安葬在利默里奇,她母亲的墓地。”

*  *  *

我又病倒了,好心的米切尔森太太在道森先生的帮助下精心地照顾我。三个多星期的时间里,我都无法出门旅行。但我终于恢复了体力,离开了那个令人憎恨的庄园,回到利默里奇。米切尔森太太和我一同来到伦敦,我去见了克尔先生,向他讲述了我心中对妹妹死因的怀疑。他对这件事很关心,答应为我调查。

我到利默里奇几天后,克尔先生的信也寄到了那里。他从几个证人那里获得了证词,他相信没有任何可疑的事发生。他把证词的副本寄给了我。下面是福斯科的厨师赫斯特·平霍恩太太的笔录:


我是最近受雇于福斯科伯爵夫妇的,他们住在圣约翰伍德,弗雷斯特街5号。快7月底的一天,伯爵夫人的侄女,格莱德夫人来到伯爵家。她很快就病了。我看见她躺在沙发上,脸色苍白。我跑去叫医生,找来了古德里克先生。他给她做了检查,说她得了严重的心脏病。当天夜里,她病情加重。大约第二天早上5点,她失去了知觉。医生进来,用手摸了摸她的胸口,说她已经死了。医生说,因为伯爵是外国人,所以他得亲自到地区办公室报告人口死亡。福斯科伯爵夫妇对格莱德夫人的死非常伤心。格莱德夫人的丈夫在国外,因此他们安排了葬礼的有关事宜,葬礼安排在坎伯兰郡举行。


由于长时间生病,我现在还非常虚弱,此时绝望几乎将我击垮。我找不到什么朋友可以倾诉,茫然不知下面该如何是好。每天我都去教堂墓地,去给劳拉的墓献花,一遍又一遍地读着那些令我心碎的文字。


爱妻劳拉·格莱德之墓

生于1829年3月27日

卒于1850年7月25日

汉普郡布莱克沃特庄园

珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士立

PART THREE—THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT 第三部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

PART THREE
THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
第三部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

9
The gravestone

On 13th October 1850 I left the wild forests of Central America and returned to England. I had escaped death by disease, death by war, and death by drowning, and hoped that these experiences had strengthened me to face my future — a future without Laura Fairlie. I still remembered her as Laura Fairlie, and could not think of her by her husband's name.

The first thing I did was to visit my mother and sister in their Hampstead cottage. The joy of our meeting, however, soon turned to sadness. I have no secrets from my mother, and when I saw the loving pity in her eyes, I feared the worst.

The news was soon told. I tried hard not to let my sorrow spoil the happiness of my return for my mother and sister, but by the third day I knew I had to go away alone for a while.

'Let me go up to Limmeridge,' I begged my mother. 'I can bear it better when I have seen her grave.'

It was a warm autumn afternoon when I arrived at the station and walked down the familiar road, seeing in the distance the high white walls of Limmeridge House. In the churchyard I found the grave and knelt down beside the gravestone, closing my eyes.

Oh my love! My Love! My dear, dear Love!

Hours passed, and the evening sunlight threw long shadows among the sleeping places of the dead. I had lost all sense of time, kneeling there. Then, in the silence, I heard the soft sound of footsteps on the grass.

I looked up.

Beyond me, standing together by the churchyard wall, were two women, their veils down, hiding their faces. They were looking towards the grave, looking towards me.

Two.

They came closer, and stopped. One of them lifted her veil, and in the still evening light I saw the face of Marian Halcombe. A changed face. Thin and pale, full of pain and fear.

The woman with the veiled face came towards me slowly. Marian Halcombe sank to her knees, murmuring, 'Oh God, help him! Please, please help him, God!'

The veiled woman came on, slowly and silently. I looked at her — at her, and at no one else, from that moment. She had possession of me, body and soul. She stopped by the side of the gravestone, and we stood face to face with the grave between us.

'Oh God, help him, help him!'

The woman lifted her veil.

In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde...

Laura, Lady Glyde, was standing by the gravestone, looking at me over her grave.

*  *  *

A life suddenly changed. A new future before me, like the sunlit view from a mountain top. I leave my story in the quiet shadow of Limmeridge church, and begin again, one week later, in the noise and rush of a London street.

I have rented rooms under a different name. Marian and Laura, using the same name, are said to be my sisters. I earn our bread by doing drawings for cheap magazines. We employ no servant; my elder sister, Marian, does the housework with her own hands. Marian and I are known to be the friends of mad Anne Catherick (address unknown), who falsely claims the identity of Lady Glyde. To the rest of the world, Laura, Lady Glyde, is dead. Dead to her uncle, who has refused to recognize her; dead to the lawyers, who have passed her fortune to her husband and aunt.

But to Marian and me she is alive! Penniless and sadly changed — her beauty faded, her mind confused — but alive, with her poor drawing teacher to fight her battles and to win her way back to the world of living beings. She is mine at last — mine to support, to protect, to defend. And mine to love.


drown v. to kill by submerging and suffocating in liquid 淹死;溺死

strengthen v. make stronger 变得坚强

veil n. a piece of fabric attached to a woman's hat 面纱

earn one's bread earn one's living 维持生计

penniless adj. having no money 身无分文的

9.墓碑

1850年10月13日我离开中美洲的原始森林,回到了英国。我一次次逃过疾病、战争和洪水带来的死亡危险。我希望这些经历能够使我更加坚强地面对未来——没有劳拉的未来。在我心里她依然是劳拉·费尔利,我无法把她冠以她丈夫的姓氏。

我回来后的第一件事是到汉普斯特德看望母亲和妹妹。欢聚的快乐很快转化为悲伤。我没有任何秘密瞒着母亲,从她充满爱怜和同情的眼光里,我预感到最坏的事情发生了。

她们把消息告诉了我。我尽最大努力不让自己的悲哀破坏我回家带给母亲和妹妹的喜悦。但是,回来的第三天,我觉得必须一个人离开一段时间。

“让我到利默里奇去一趟吧,”我恳求着母亲,“看到她的坟墓,我可以更好地接受这一切。”

那是一个秋日的午后,天气很暖和,我到达目的地车站,走在熟悉的大路上,望着远处利默里奇庄园的白色高墙。在教堂墓地里,我找到了劳拉的墓,在她的墓碑前跪下来,闭上了双眼。

我的爱人我的爱人我最亲爱的人

几个小时过去了,落日的余辉在死者的安息地投下长长的影子。我跪在那里,完全没有了时间概念。这时,寂静中传来人走在草地上的脚步声。

我抬起头来。

不远处,教堂墓地的围墙边站着两个女人,面纱遮住了她们的脸。她们正朝墓地张望,正朝张望。

两个女人。

她们朝我走来。其中一个掀起了面纱,借着仅有的一点儿光线,我看出那是玛丽安·哈尔库姆小姐。她的脸变得跟从前不一样了:清瘦而苍白,充满了痛苦和恐惧。

头戴面纱的女人缓慢地向我走来。玛丽安·哈尔库姆跪下来,轻声说:“噢,上帝,帮帮他吧,帮帮他吧,上帝!”

头戴面纱的女人向我走来,缓慢地,无言地向我走来。我注视着她——目不转睛地久久注视着她。她占据了我的一切,我的灵魂和肉体。她在墓碑前停住脚步,我们隔着坟墓互相注视着。

“噢,上帝,帮帮他,帮帮他吧!”

那个女人掀起了面纱。

爱妻劳拉·格莱德夫人之墓……

劳拉·格莱德夫人,她就站在墓碑旁,隔着坟墓望着我。

alt

*  *  *

生活突然间变了。一个崭新的未来展现在我的面前,就像在山顶上看到的撒满阳光的景色。我把过去的故事留在了利默里奇教堂那寂静的阴影中,一星期后在喧闹、繁忙的伦敦开始了新的生活。

我换了一个姓氏租了房子。玛丽安和劳拉也用同样的姓氏,对外人就说是我的姐妹。我靠给廉价杂志画画维持生计。我们没有请仆人,我的姐姐,玛丽安亲自做家务。我和玛丽安对外就说是疯女人安妮·凯瑟里克(住址不详)的朋友,那疯女人总说自己是格莱德夫人。对世界上其他人来说,劳拉·格莱德夫人已经死了;对拒不承认她的叔叔,她已经死了;对把她的财产转给她丈夫和姑妈的律师,她也已经死了。

但是对于玛丽安和我,她还活着!她身无分文,人也变了——她的美丽在消逝,头脑一片混乱——但她还活着,她那可怜的绘画教师要为她奋争,使她重新回到真实的生活中来。她终于属于我了——由我供养、呵护、保护,由我所爱。

10
The rescue

At the first opportunity we had, Marian told me everything that had happened to her and Laura. The hardest part for her was after she had returned to Limmeridge House.

'I was in despair, Walter,' she said. 'Mr Kyrle's investigation was finished, and had shown nothing, he said. Mr Fairlie was no help at all — I heard that he didn't even leave his room to go to the funeral! But he did show me a letter he'd received from Count Fosco, which contained news of Anne Catherick. The Count said that Anne Catherick had been found and put back in the asylum from which she had escaped. But because she hated Sir Percival and wanted to make trouble for him, she was now claiming that she was not Anne Catherick at all, but Lady Glyde. The Count warned Mr Fairlie that if she escaped again, she might try to annoy members of Lady Glyde's family.

'I wasn't well enough to do anything for about a month after returning to Limmeridge, but when I felt stronger, I decided to make some investigations myself. First, I planned to visit the asylum in London and talk to poor Anne Catherick, to find out why she was claiming to be Laura. I knew the address because you had given it to me, all those months ago.

'Well, Walter, you can guess what's coming, I'm sure. The director of the asylum, who seemed an honest person, told me that Anne Catherick had been brought back on 27th July. He was puzzled by some odd personal changes in her, but assumed they were caused by her mental illness. He then called a nurse to take me to Anne Catherick, who was walking in the gardens.

'Imagine the shock, Walter — seeing my dead sister walking towards me in that garden! We just ran into each other's arms, unable to say a word. How the nurse stared at us!'

'I think I know how you must have felt,' I said. 'I shall never forget in the churchyard at Limmeridge... But tell me, however did you get Laura out of the asylum?'

'Bribery, Walter. I didn't want to risk a legal battle and all the delay that would involve, so I persuaded the nurse that a terrible mistake had been made and she would be doing a good thing in helping Anne Catherick escape. And I offered her £400. The plan went smoothly, and by early afternoon the next day Laura and I were on the train to Cumberland.'

'And Laura?' I asked. 'What actually happened on the day she left Blackwater Park and came to London?'

Marian sighed. 'Oh, Walter, it's not at all clear. Poor Laura's mind is so confused now that her memory of events is very unreliable. She can't even remember the date she left Blackwater. All she has been able to tell me is this. The Count met her at the station, and said that I was still in London and that he would take her to see me at once. She doesn't remember where the cab went, but it was clearly not to his house in St John's Wood. She was taken to a house in a narrow street, where people came and went, asking her questions she didn't understand. At this point the Count told her I was now very ill; she was so frightened by this news she nearly fainted. Someone then gave her a glass of water, which she said tasted odd — and after that she lost consciousness.'

'Poor, poor Laura,' I murmured.

'She woke up,' Marian continued, 'in the asylum, unable to leave, unable to make contact with the outside world. She was called by Anne Catherick's name and found she was wearing clothes with Anne Catherick's name on them. She was told Lady Glyde was dead and buried, and that she was Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick... Day in, day out, from 27th July to 15th October, she was made to feel that she was mad. It's hardly surprising her mind is so confused now.'

'And what happened at Limmeridge?' I asked.

Marian turned her face away. 'I can't bear to think about it,' she said. 'The worst part was taking Laura into Mr Fairlie's room. He looked straight into Laura's face and said, "My niece is buried in Limmeridge churchyard. I don't recognize this woman. Remove her from my house before I call on the law to protect me." Even the servants were doubtful about her identity, because she was so much changed and so confused by her experiences. Perhaps people would have been persuaded if we'd stayed longer, but I didn't dare risk it. At any minute the people from the asylum might come looking for us, so I decided to return to London at once and hide. Then, as we were passing the churchyard, Laura insisted on a last look at her mother's grave. And... well, that moment changed our three lives.'

'I think God was guiding Laura's footsteps,' I said.

How well I remember that day — that moment when Laura laid her poor head innocently and trustingly on my shoulder, and said, 'They have tried to make me forget everything, Walter, but I remember Marian, and I remember you.'

*  *  *

The plot against Laura was now clear. Anne Catherick had been taken into Count Fosco's house as Lady Glyde, and Lady Glyde had taken the dead woman's place in the asylum. It was also clear that the three of us could expect no mercy from Count Fosco and Sir Percival, who between them had gained £30,000 from the plot. They would do everything in their power to prevent their crime being discovered, and would hunt for their victim to separate her from her only friends — Marian and myself. This is why I had chosen a poor and crowded part of London to live in. It is easier to hide in a place where people are always coming and going.

Our life quickly took on a regular pattern — work, watching out for our enemies, and care of Laura, whom we surrounded with a gentle, protective love, helping her slowly but steadily to recover her balance of mind and her self-confidence.

Meanwhile, Marian and I began the battle. We studied the statements that Mr Kyrle had taken from witnesses — the doctor, and the servants and cook in Count Fosco's house. I obtained a copy of Lady Glyde's death certificate, and Marian wrote to Mrs Michelson, who replied, saying that she could not remember the exact date of Laura's departure from Blackwater Park. Nor could she remember when the letter announcing Laura's death, which was undated, had arrived from Madame Fosco.

I also arranged to visit Mr Kyrle, to ask for his help. After listening to my long explanation, the lawyer shook his head.

'My legal opinion, Mr Hartright, is that you won't win this case in a court of law. I accept, of course, that the identity of Lady Glyde as a living person is a proved fact to Miss Halcombe and yourself. But there is no evidence. If you could prove that the date on the death certificate was earlier than the date of Lady Glyde's journey to London, then you might have a case.'

As I left, he gave me a letter that had been delivered to him for Marian, and told me, in answer to my question, that Sir Percival Glyde had returned to London.

Outside in the street I soon noticed two men following me, and realized too late that the Count's spies must have been watching the lawyer's office, in the hope that Marian or I would go there. I went home by a very long route and managed to lose them, but it was a warning to me to be more careful.

Marian was very worried when I told her about the two men. Then I gave her the letter. She recognized the writing instantly.

'It's from Count Fosco.'


Dear and admirable woman, do not be afraid! Stay hidden, with your gentle companion, and nothing will happen to you. Challenge nothing, threaten nobody. Do not, I beg you, force me into action. If Mr Hartright returns to England, do not speak to him. If he crosses my path, he is a Lost man. F.


'Walter!' Marian said, her eyes flashing with anger. 'If ever the Count and Sir Percival are at your mercy and you must spare one of them, don't let it be the Count.'

'I'll keep this letter to remind me when the time comes,' I said. 'But tomorrow I will go to Blackwater, to try and find out the date of Laura's journey to London. It's the one weak point in their plot.'

'You mean that perhaps Laura did not leave for London until after the date on the death certificate?'

'Exactly. I think she left on 26th July. The Director of the asylum said she was taken there on the 27th. I doubt if they could have kept her drugged more than one night. We know from Mrs Michelson that Sir Percival left on the same day as Laura. I'll ask everyone in the village if they remember when he left.'

'And if that fails?'

'If that fails, Marian, I'll force a confession from Sir Percival. We have one weapon against him — his secret. Anne Catherick said that if his secret was known, it would ruin him. I intend to find out that secret. The woman in white, though dead in her grave, is still with us and is showing us the way!'


bribery n. persuading a person to act in one's favor by a gift of money or services 贿赂

unreliable adj. not liable 不可靠的

plot n. a conspiracy or secret plan esp. to achieve an unlawful end 阴谋

mercy n. kindness, pity, and willingness to forgive 仁慈

cross one's path meet sb by chance 与…偶然相遇

flash v. burst 闪烁

10.营救

我们刚一有机会交谈,玛丽安就把她和劳拉的遭遇从头到尾讲给我听。最令她难过的是回到利默里奇之后的经历。

“我太绝望了,沃尔特,”她说,“克尔先生的调查结束了,他说什么也没发现。费尔利先生一点儿忙也不帮——我听说他甚至都没离开他的房间去参加葬礼!不过他倒是把福斯科伯爵的信给了我,信里面有安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。伯爵说安妮·凯瑟里克已经找到了,被送回了原来的精神病院。但是,凯瑟里克因为痛恨珀西瓦尔爵士,想给他找麻烦,所以她现在自称不是安妮·凯瑟里克,而是格莱德夫人。伯爵提醒费尔利先生,假如她再逃出来,很可能要给格莱德夫人的家人添乱子。

“回来的头一个月,我身体虚弱,什么也干不了。后来身体恢复了,我决定亲自去调查。首先,我准备去伦敦的精神病院找可怜的安妮·凯瑟里克谈谈,弄清楚为什么她要自称是劳拉。我知道地址,是你几个月前给我的。

“噢,沃尔特,我相信你能猜到接下来发生的事情。精神病院的院长看上去是个正直的人,他告诉我,安妮·凯瑟里克是7月27日被送回来的。他对凯瑟里克身上的变化感到很困惑,但他推测是由于精神方面的疾病造成的。然后,他叫一名护士带我去见安妮·凯瑟里克,她正在花园散步。

“想象一下,当时我有多么震惊,沃尔特——我看到自己死去的妹妹在花园里朝我走来!我们跑向对方,紧紧地抱在一起,一句话也说不出来。护士不解地望着我们。”

“我很清楚你当时的心情,”我说,“我永远不会忘记在利默里奇教堂墓地……可是,你是怎么把劳拉救出精神病院的呢?”

“贿赂,沃尔特。我不想打官司,那样太冒险,也会耽误很长时间。所以,我对护士说,这里一定有严重的误会,如果她能帮助安妮·凯瑟里克逃走,就做了一件天大的好事。之后,我给了她400英镑。计划进行得很顺利,第二天刚过中午,我和劳拉就乘上了开往坎伯兰郡的火车。”

“那么,劳拉呢?”我问,“她离开布莱克沃特庄园到伦敦后,到底发生了什么?”

玛丽安叹了口气,“噢,沃尔特,现在还不清楚。可怜的劳拉思维很乱,她的记忆不可靠。她连离开布莱克沃特的日期都记不起来。她能告诉我的就是,伯爵在车站接她,告诉她我还在伦敦,他要带劳拉马上去见我。她不记得车往哪里走了,但是很明显不是去伯爵在圣约翰伍德的家。她被带进一条小巷里的一间房子,那里人来人往,问一些她听不懂的问题。这时,伯爵告诉她我病得很严重,她听了非常害怕,几乎昏了过去。接着有人给了她一杯水,她说水的味道很怪,之后她就失去了知觉。”

“可怜的劳拉。”我低声自语着。

“她醒来以后,”玛丽安接着说,“发现自己在精神病院里,既不能离开,也无法同外界接触。别人叫她安妮·凯瑟里克,她发现自己穿着有安妮·凯瑟里克名字的衣服。别人告诉她格莱德夫人已经死了,被安葬了,她就是安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克……一天又一天,从7月27日到10月15日,他们强迫她认为自己疯了。难怪现在她思维混乱。”

“在利默里奇发生了什么?”我问道。

玛丽安把头转向一侧。“我简直不忍心想在那儿发生的事情。”她回答,“最糟的就是我带劳拉走进费尔利先生的房间后,他紧盯着劳拉的脸说:‘我侄女已经埋在利默里奇教堂墓地了。我不认识这个女人。赶快带她出去,不然我要用法律来保护自己了。’仆人们也对劳拉的身份很怀疑,因为她变化太大了,她的经历也让她思绪异常混乱。也许我们逗留的时间长一些,大家会被说服,但是我不想冒这个险,因为精神病院的人随时都会来找我们,所以我决定马上回伦敦躲起来。当我们经过教堂的时候,劳拉坚持要最后再看一眼她母亲的坟墓。后来……嗯,那一刻改变了我们三个人的生活。”

“我想是上帝在引导着劳拉的脚步。”我说。

我清楚地记得那天——可怜的劳拉将头依偎在我的肩头,充满了纯洁与信任。她说:“他们想叫我忘掉一切,沃尔特,但我还记得玛丽安,我还记得。”

*  *  *

针对劳拉的阴谋现在已经清楚了。安妮·凯瑟里克被当作格莱德夫人带进了福斯科伯爵的家里,格莱德夫人在精神病院里取代了那个已经死了的女人的位置。还有一点也很明显,福斯科伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士是不会放过我们三个的。他们两人从这个阴谋中得到30,000英镑。他们会尽一切可能不让他们的罪行败露,也会极力追寻他们所陷害的人,并把她同她的朋友们——玛丽安和我——分开。这就是为什么我选择伦敦一处既贫穷又拥挤的地方住下来,因为在一个人来人往的地方比较容易躲藏。

我们的生活很快形成了一个较为固定的模式——工作,留意我们的敌人,照顾劳拉。我们细心地照顾她,保护她,帮助她慢慢地恢复正常的思维和自信心。

与此同时,玛丽安和我开始了紧张的调查。我们仔细研究克尔先生记录的证词——分别来自医生以及伯爵家的仆人和厨师。我弄到了一份格莱德夫人的死亡证明。玛丽安给米切尔森太太写信,米切尔森太太回信说记不清劳拉离开布莱克沃特庄园的确切日期了,也记不清福斯科夫人来信通知他们劳拉死讯的具体时间了,那封信没有注明日期。

我还安排与克尔先生见面,请求他的帮助。听我把前因后果一一讲完后,克尔先生摇了摇头。

“作为律师,哈特里特先生,我认为你不会赢得这场官司。当然我同意,你和哈尔库姆小姐可以证明格莱德夫人还活着,但是你没有证据。如果你能证明死亡证明上的时间比格莱德夫人去伦敦的时间,那你可能会赢这场官司。”

我要离开的时候,他交给我一封信,是要他转给玛丽安的。同时,他在回答我的提问时透露,珀西瓦尔爵士已经回到伦敦了。

在外面的街道上,我很快注意到有两个人在跟踪我。我这才意识到伯爵的人肯定一直在监视克尔先生的办公室,以防玛丽安和我会到那儿去。我绕远路回家,设法甩掉了跟踪我的人,但是这件事提醒我今后要更加小心。

我把两个人跟踪我的事告诉了玛丽安,她非常担心。我把那封信交给她,她马上就认出了写信人的笔迹。

“是福斯科伯爵写的。”


亲爱的、尊敬的女士,请不要害怕!继续同你温柔的伙伴藏好,你们就不会有事。不要试图做任何事情,不要给任何人带来威胁。我请求你们,不要强迫我采取行动。如果哈特里特先生回英国来,不要同他接触。假如他找我的麻烦,他就死定了。福斯科。


“沃尔特!”玛丽安眼里闪着愤怒的光,“如果伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士落到你的手里,而你又必须放过他们中的一个的话,一定不要放过伯爵。”

“我要留着这封信,让它到时候提醒我应该怎么做,”我说,“明天我要去一趟布莱克沃特,查一查劳拉去伦敦的日期。这是他们阴谋中的一个漏洞。”

“你是说劳拉可能是在死亡证明上的日期之后才去伦敦的?”

“没错。我想她是7月26日动身的。精神病院的院长说她是27日被送进去的。我怀疑他们是否能让劳拉昏迷超过一晚上的时间。米切尔森太太说,珀西瓦尔爵士是和劳拉同一天离开的。我要问村里的每一个人,是不是还记得珀西瓦尔爵士什么时候离开的。”

“如果这样不行呢?”

“如果不行的话,玛丽安,我就逼珀西瓦尔爵士认罪。我们用他的秘密对付他,安妮·凯瑟里克说如果他的秘密让人知道了,那他就完了。我想查出他的秘密来。那个白衣女人虽说已经死了,但是还同我们在一起,她会为我们引路的!”

11
The investigation

The story of my first enquiries in Hampshire is soon told. Not a single person in the village of Blackwater could remember exactly when Sir Percival Glyde had left. Even the gardener at the house could only say it was some time in the last ten days of July.

'So, on to the next plan,' I said to Marian back in London, 'which is to pursue the secret. I need to talk to Anne Catherick's mother, but first I must find out something about her from Mrs Clements, Anne's friend. But how do I find Mrs Clements?'

Marian had the answer to that. 'You remember the farm she and Anne stayed at near Limmeridge? We'll write to them — they might know Mrs Clements' address.'

We were lucky. The farmer's wife did know the address, and wrote back by return to tell us. It was in London, not far from our rooms, and the next morning I was knocking at the door.

Mrs Clements was anxious to know if I had brought her any news of Anne, and very sad to learn that I had not. However, she was willing to tell me everything she knew.

'After leaving Limmeridge, sir,' she said, 'Anne and I went to live in the northeast of England, and that's when Anne started to suffer from heart disease. She wasn't at all well, but she insisted on travelling to Hampshire, because she wanted to speak to Lady Glyde. So we went there and stayed in a village near Blackwater — not too close as Anne was so frightened of Sir Percival.

'Each time Anne went to the lake to try to speak to Lady Glyde, I followed her at a distance. But the long walks made her so exhausted that she became ill again, so finally I went to the lake in her place to meet Lady Glyde. She didn't come that day, but a very fat man came instead with a message from her. The message was that we should return to London immediately, as Sir Percival would certainly find us if we stayed longer. Lady Glyde was going to London herself very soon and if we sent her our address, she would contact us.'

'But she didn't, did she?' I said, thinking how cleverly Count Fosco had lied to this kind woman.

'No, sir. I found lodgings and sent the address to Lady Glyde, but after two weeks we'd still heard nothing. Then one day a lady called in a cab. She said she came from Lady Glyde, who was staying at a hotel and wanted to arrange an interview with Anne. I agreed to go with this lady to make the arrangement, leaving Anne alone in our lodgings. But it was a wicked plot, sir. On the way the lady stopped the cab, saying she just had to collect something from a shop and would I wait for a few minutes. She never came back, sir. I waited for some time, and then I hurried home — and found Anne gone. Just disappeared.'

I asked Mrs Clements to describe this 'lady', and it seemed clear from her description that it was Madame Fosco. So I now knew how the Count had got Anne Catherick to London and separated her from Mrs Clements.

'I never found out what happened to Anne,' Mrs Clements said sadly. 'I made enquiries. I even wrote to her mother, but she didn't know anything. I miss poor Anne so much. She was like a daughter to me, you see, sir.'

'And I'm sure you were a kind mother to her,' I said. 'A better mother than her own mother.'

'That wasn't difficult,' said Mrs Clements. 'Mrs Catherick is a hard woman. She seemed to hate the child, and was only too pleased when I offered to bring her up. Then one day she took Anne to Limmeridge to stay with a sister, and after that she kept Anne from me. I didn't see Anne again till she escaped from the asylum — with your help, sir. And then she was always talking about a secret her mother had which could ruin Sir Percival. But you know, sir, I don't think Anne really knew what this secret was. If she had known, I'm sure she would have told me.'

I had wondered about that myself, and now I tried to turn the conversation on to Mrs Catherick.

'Did you know Mrs Catherick before Anne was born?'

'Yes, for about four months. We were neighbours in Welmingham. Mr and Mrs Catherick had just got married, and Mr Catherick had a job as clerk at Welmingham church. Before that, Mrs Catherick had been a servant at a large house. She was a selfish, heartless woman, and treated her poor husband very badly. Before long, there was a lot of talk about her and a young gentleman, who was staying at a hotel nearby. And Mr Catherick told my husband that he'd found expensive presents, gold rings and suchlike, hidden in his wife's drawer.'

'And who was this gentleman?' I asked.

'You know him, sir. And so did my poor dear Anne.'

'Sir Percival Glyde?' My heart began to beat faster. Was I getting close to the secret?

'That's right. His father had recently died abroad, and Sir Percival had just arrived in the neighbourhood. People thought, you see, that maybe Mrs Catherick had known Sir Percival before, and had married Mr Catherick just to save her reputation, because of, well, you know... Anyway, one night Mr Catherick found his wife whispering with Sir Percival outside the vestry of the church. They had a fight, but Sir Percival beat him and Mr Catherick left the village, never to return again. And in spite of all the talk in the village, Mrs Catherick stayed. She said she was innocent and that no one would drive her away. But most people thought that the money she lived on came from Sir Percival.'

The secret was here somewhere. But where? That Sir Percival was Anne's father was hardly a secret since everyone already thought that. No, there was another mystery somewhere.

'And what did you think, Mrs Clements?'

'Well, sir, if you worked out time and place, it was obvious that Mr Catherick wasn't Anne's father. But Anne wasn't at all like Sir Percival; and nor was she like her mother.'

I wondered about the house where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Perhaps I would make some enquiries later.

'You've been very kind, Mrs Clements,' I said, 'answering all my questions. One last request. Will you tell me Mrs Catherick's address? I have to find out this secret, and only she can tell me.'

Mrs Clements gave me the address, but shook her head. 'Take care, sir. She's an awful woman. You don't know her as I do.'

*  *  *

Back at our rooms I announced my intention to Marian of going to Welmingham. She was very uneasy about the plan.

'Are you sure it's wise, Walter? Sir Percival is a violent man.'

'I'm more afraid for you and Laura,' I said, 'left alone in London, with the Count as your enemy.'

We arranged to write to each other every day; and if no letter came from her, I would take the first train back to London.

*  *  *

Three days later I was standing in Mrs Catherick's sitting room, face to face with a grey-haired woman, dressed in black silk. Her dark eyes looked straight at me with a hard, cold stare.

'You say you have come to speak to me about my daughter,' she said. 'Please say what you have to say.'

Her voice was as hard as the expression in her eyes. She pointed to a chair, and looked at me carefully as I sat down.

'You know,' I said, 'that your daughter is lost?'

'I know that perfectly well.'

'Don't you worry that she might not be just lost, but that she might have met with her death?'

'Yes. Have you come to tell me that she is dead?'

'I have.'

'Why?'

She asked that extraordinary question without the slightest change in her voice, face, or manner. I might have been talking about the death of a cat in the street.

'I thought Anne's mother might be interested in knowing if she was alive or dead.'

'Just so,' she said. 'But what is your interest in her, or in me? Have you no other reason for coming here?'

'Yes, I do,' I said. 'Your daughter's death has caused someone I love to be harmed — by a man called Sir Percival Glyde.'

She did not react at all at the mention of his name.

'I want to make him confess to his crime. You know certain things about him from the time when your husband was the church clerk. I want you to tell me about them.'

At last I saw the anger burning in her eyes.

'What do you know about those events?'

'Everything that Mrs Clements could tell me.'

'Mrs Clements is a foolish woman.' She bit back her anger, and her lips curled in an unpleasant little smile. 'Ah, I begin to understand. You want your revenge on Sir Percival Glyde, and you want my help. That's why you've come here. Well, you don't know me. I've spent years getting back my reputation in this village. Now everyone respects me. I won't help you.'

'If you're afraid of Sir Percival, that's quite understandable,' I said. 'He's a powerful man, and comes from a great family —'

To my amazement, she suddenly burst out laughing.

'From a great family! Yes, indeed! Especially from his mother's side,' she said with disgust.

Whatever did she mean by that, I wondered?

'The secret between you and Sir Percival was not guilty love,' I insisted. 'It was something else that brought you and him to those stolen meetings outside the vestry of the church.'

As I said the words 'vestry of the church', I saw a wave of terror pass across her face.

'Go!' she said. 'And never come back. Unless' — and she gave a slow, cruel smile — 'unless you bring news of his death.'

*  *  *

It was now late, and I made my way to the nearest hotel. There was much to think about. Why should mention of the church vestry cause terror? Why the disgust at Sir Percival's family, especially his mother? Was there something unusual about his parents' marriage? Perhaps the local marriage register was kept in the vestry of Welmingham church...

The next day I went to the church. I had been aware of being followed the previous evening, and now I caught sight of the same two men I had seen outside Mr Kyrle's office in London. It seemed that Sir Percival had expected me to visit Mrs Catherick, and was now expecting me to visit Welmingham church — proof, surely, that my investigation was going in the right direction.

I found the church clerk, who fetched his keys and took me to the vestry. It could only be entered from the outside of the church, and the clerk had great difficulty opening the lock, which was very old. Once inside, I asked to see the marriage register. It was kept in a cupboard which could easily be forced open.

'Is that a safe enough place to keep the register?' I said.

'Safe enough,' the clerk said. 'A copy is kept by a lawyer in the next village — Mr Wansborough's office in Knowlesbury.'

I worked backwards in the register from Sir Percival's year of birth and there, under September of the previous year, squashed into a small space at the bottom of the page, was the record of the marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster of Knowlesbury. Just the usual information. Nothing apparently peculiar about Sir Percival's mother. The secret seemed further away than ever.

But on to Knowlesbury, and Mr Wansborough's office — a five-mile walk, but possible to get there and back by the end of the day. It was worth checking the copy of the register, and perhaps the lawyer would know something that might be useful.


pursue v. continue to investigate 继续调查

lodgings n. rooms rented for lodging in 租用的房子

bring up raise 抚养

heartless adj. unfeeling, pitiless 无情的

vestry n. a room or building attached to a church for keeping vestments in 教堂的法衣室

react v. undergo a change or show behaviour due to some influence 反应

bite back restrain 克制

burst out suddenly begin 突然做……

disgust n. strong aversion 不屑

make one's way to go to 到……去

catch sight of see, find 看到

11.调查

下面是我在汉普郡初步调查的情况。布莱克沃特村没有一个人记得珀西瓦尔爵士离开的确切时间。园丁也仅仅记得大概是7月下旬。

“那么,开始下一步行动吧,”回到伦敦我对玛丽安说,“查出那个秘密来。我需要找到安妮·凯瑟里克的母亲,但我必须首先找到安妮的朋友克莱门茨太太,从她那里了解一些情况。可怎么才能找到克莱门茨太太?”

玛丽安想出了办法:“还记得克莱门茨太太和安妮在利默里奇附近住过的农场吗?我们给他们写信,也许他们知道克莱门茨太太的地址。”

我们很幸运,农场主的妻子真的知道地址,她回信告诉了我们。她就住在伦敦,离我们住的地方不远。第二天上午,我就找到了那个地方,敲响了房门。

克莱门茨太太急切地想知道我是否带来了安妮的消息,当我告诉她没有的时候,她非常难过。不过,她愿意把她知道的一切都告诉我。

“离开利默里奇以后,先生,”她对我说,“安妮和我去了英国东北部,这个时候安妮得了心脏病。她身体很不好,但她坚持到汉普郡去见格莱德夫人。所以我们就去了那儿,住在布莱克沃特附近的一个村子里——那地方离布莱克沃特不是很近,因为安妮非常害怕珀西瓦尔爵士。

“每一次安妮到湖边去见格莱德夫人,我都在远处跟着她。但是走那么远的路让她非常疲劳,结果她又病了。最后我代替她到湖边去见格莱德夫人。那天格莱德夫人没有来,来的是一个很胖的男人,他捎来了格莱德夫人的口信,让我们赶快回伦敦,因为如果在这里呆久了,珀西瓦尔爵士肯定会发现我们。格莱德夫人自己很快也会到伦敦去,如果我们把地址给她,她会跟我们联系。”

“但是她没跟你们联系,对吗?”我问,心想伯爵对这个善良的女人说的谎真是高明啊。

“没错,先生。我找到了住处,把地址寄给了格莱德夫人,可是两个星期过去了,我们没收到任何回音。后来,有一天一位夫人乘马车到这里来。她说她从格莱德夫人那儿来,格莱德夫人住在一家旅店,想安排同安妮见面。我答应同那位夫人去安排见面的事,把安妮一个人留在住处。可这是个恶毒的阴谋,先生。走到半路,那位夫人说要去商店取点儿东西,让我等几分钟。她去了就再没回来,先生。我等了好一阵子,然后赶忙回家——回来后却发现安妮不见了。就这么消失了。”

我让克莱门茨太太描述一下那位“夫人”的样子,根据她的描述,那人很显然是福斯科夫人。现在我明白伯爵是怎么把安妮·凯瑟里克弄到伦敦,又怎么把她和克莱门茨太太分开的了。

“我不知道安妮到底出了什么事,”克莱门茨太太伤心地说,“我调查过,甚至给她母亲写过信,但是她什么也不知道。我现在非常想念可怜的安妮。你知道,她就像我的女儿一样,先生。”

“我相信你是她的好母亲,”我说,“比她的亲生母亲还要亲。”

“那倒没什么难的,”克莱门茨太太说,“凯瑟里克太太是一个铁石心肠的女人。她好像仇视这个孩子,我提出抚养这孩子时,她非常高兴。后来有一天她把安妮带到利默里奇同她的妹妹住在一起。再后来,她就不让我见安妮了。安妮从精神病院逃出来之前,我就再没见到过她。她逃出来还是你帮的忙呢,先生。从那以后,她—直说她母亲知道一个秘密,那秘密会毁了珀西瓦尔爵士。但是,先生,我觉得安妮并不真的知道那个秘密。如果她真的知道,我相信她早就告诉我了。”

我自己也想过这个问题。但是,现在我努力把话题转向凯瑟里克太太。

“安妮出生前,你就认识凯瑟里克太太吗?”

“认识,大概有四个月的时间。我们在韦明翰是邻居。当时凯瑟里克夫妇刚刚结婚,凯瑟里克先生在韦明翰教堂当职员。结婚前,凯瑟里克太太在一个大户人家当仆人。她是一个自私、狠心的女人,对她可怜的丈夫非常不好。不久,关于她和住在附近旅店的一个年轻人有了很多风言风语。凯瑟里克先生对我丈夫说,他发现他妻子的抽屉里藏着许多贵重礼物,金戒指什么的。”

“那个年轻人是谁?”我问。

“你认识他,先生。我可怜的安妮也认识他。”

“珀西瓦尔爵士?”我的心跳开始加速。我是不是接近那个秘密了?

“就是他。他父亲那时在国外去世,珀西瓦尔爵士刚刚到这里来。大家都说很可能凯瑟里克太太早就认识珀西瓦尔爵士,她和凯瑟里克先生结婚就是想挽救自己的名声,因为,嗯,你知道……不管怎样,一天晚上,凯瑟里克先生看到他妻子和珀西瓦尔爵士在教堂的法衣室外窃窃私语。他们打了起来。珀西瓦尔爵士打了他。之后,凯瑟里克先生就离开了那个村子,再也没回来。尽管村子里流言满天飞,凯瑟里克太太还是一直住在那里。”她说自己是清白的,谁也赶不走她。不过大多数人都认为她是靠珀西瓦尔爵士的钱维持生活的。”

秘密就在这里。可是到底是什么呢?珀西瓦尔爵士是安妮的父亲,这已经不是什么秘密了,大家早就这么想了。不对,这里一定还有隐情。

“那你怎么看,克莱门茨太太?”

“嗯,如果从时间和地点来看,很明显凯瑟里克先生不是安妮的父亲。但是,安妮一点儿也不像珀西瓦尔爵士,也不像她母亲。”

我想到凯瑟里克太太当仆人的那家,也许什么时候我可以到那儿调查一下。

“真是太谢谢了,克莱门茨太太,”我说,“你回答了我那么多问题。最后我还有个请求,你能告诉我凯瑟里克太太的地址吗?我必须查清楚这个秘密,只有她可以告诉我。”

克莱门茨太太把地址给了我,但是摇了摇头,“你要小心,先生。她是一个很可怕的女人,你没有我了解她。”

*  *  *

回到住处,我把要去韦明翰的想法告诉了玛丽安,她非常担优。

“你觉得这样好吗,沃尔特?珀西瓦尔爵士是个心狠手辣的人。”

“我更担心的是你和劳拉,”我说,“就你们两个留在伦敦,还要对付伯爵。”

我们商量好每天都互相写信,如果没有收到玛丽安的来信,我就搭乘最早的一班火车回伦敦来。

*  *  *

三天后,我已经站在凯瑟里克太太的客厅里了。我面前是一个头发灰白的女人,穿着黑色绸衣。她的一双黑眼睛冷冷地盯着我。

“你说你来跟我谈我女儿的事,”她开口说,“有什么话就请讲吧。”

她的声音像她的眼神一样冷。她指了指一把椅子,我坐下以后,她开始仔细地打量我。

“你知道,”我说,“你女儿失踪了吗?”

“我非常清楚。”

“难道你不担心她可能不光是失踪了,有可能她已经死了?”

“我想过。那你是来告诉我,她已经死了?”

“是的。”

“为什么?”

提出这样荒谬的问题,她的声音、表情和举止居然没有任何变化,就好像我刚才谈的是街上死了一只猫。

“我原以为安妮的母亲会关心她的生死。”

“就为了这个啊,”她说,“但是你为什么对她或我感兴趣呢?你到这里来没有其他原因?”

“有,”我回答,“你女儿的死使我所爱的人受到了伤害——是一个叫珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士的人干的。”

我提到了珀西瓦尔的名字,她一点儿反应都没有。

“我要让他承认他所犯下的罪行,你丈夫在教堂当职员的时候,你就知道了他的一些事,我希望你把所知道的告诉我。”

我终于在她眼里看到了愤怒的目光。

“你是怎么知道这些事的?”

“克莱门茨太太把她知道的都告诉我了。”

“克莱门茨太太是个愚蠢的女人。”她压下怒火,双唇勾起一丝恶意的微笑。“呵,我开始懂了。要向珀西瓦尔爵士报仇,需要帮忙。这就是你来这里的原因。你不了解我。我在这个村子住了这么多年,才挽回我的名誉。现在大家都很尊敬我,我不会帮你的。”

“如果你害怕珀西瓦尔爵士,那是可以理解的,”我说,“他是个有权势的人,出身名门——”

令我吃惊的是,她突然大笑起来。

“出身名门!是,没错!尤其是他母亲那一边。”她不屑地说。

她这话是什么意思?我不明白。

“你和他之间的秘密不是什么婚外情,”我接着说,“是别的事情使得你们在教堂的法衣室外秘密见面。”

在提到“教堂的法衣室”时,我注意到她的脸上掠过一阵恐惧。

“滚出去!”她大声喊着,“再也不要回来。除非”——她脸上慢慢露出残忍的笑意——“除非你来告诉我他死了。”

*  *  *

天色已晚,我朝最近的旅店走去。有许多问题需要思考。为什么提到教堂的法衣室她就害怕了?为什么她瞧不起珀西瓦尔爵士的家庭,特别是他的母亲?难道他父母的婚姻有什么特别的地方?也许当地的婚姻登记记录就存放在韦明翰教堂的法衣室……

第二天我去了教堂。我已经注意到前一天晚上有人跟踪我,这会儿我又看到在伦敦克尔先生办公室外见到的那两个人在跟着我。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士已经料到我要来见凯瑟里克太太,现在又料到我来韦明翰教堂——这些恰好证明我的调查方向是正确的。

我找到了教堂职员,他找来钥匙,带我来到教堂的法衣室。法衣室只能从教堂外面进去,职员费了好大劲儿才打开那把旧锁。进去以后,我说要看看婚姻登记记录。那些记录放在一个柜子里,柜子的门很容易被撬开。

“婚姻登记记录放在这里安全吗?”我问。

“很安全,”职员回答,“另一个副本存放在邻村的律师那里,就是万斯伯勒先生的办公室,在诺雷斯伯里。”

我从珀西瓦尔爵士出生那年的记录开始往前面查,在前一年的9月,有一页在靠下的角落里记着费利克斯·格莱德爵士和诺雷斯伯里的塞西莉亚结婚。只是非常一般的记录,看不出珀西瓦尔爵士的母亲有什么特殊的地方。秘密好像比以前离我更远了。

接下来,我奔赴诺雷斯伯里万斯伯勒先生的办公室——大约有5英里的路程,但是在天黑前赶回来还是可能的。很有必要查看一下记录的副本,也许律师会知道一些有用的信息。

12
The secret

Sir Percival's spies attacked me on the road to Knowlesbury. One of them came up beside me, and bumped into me with his shoulder. I pushed him away, hard, and he immediately shouted for help. The other man ran up and the two of them held me between them. The first man accused me of attacking him, and they said they would take me to the police station in the town.

What could I do? I couldn't fight both of them and hope to get away, so I had to go with them.

At the police station the first man accused me of a violent attack, and the second man said he was a witness. I was locked up until the next magistrate's court, which was three days away. I could be released on bail, I was told, but how could I, a total stranger in the town, find a responsible person willing to pay money for my temporary freedom? The whole plan was now clear — to get me out of the way for three days, while Sir Percival did whatever was necessary to prevent his secret being discovered.

At first I was too angry to think clearly. Then I remembered Mr Dawson, the doctor. I had been to his house on my previous visit to Blackwater, so I knew his address. I wrote him a letter, explaining what had happened and begging for his help, and then asked for a messenger to deliver it. Two hours later the good doctor appeared, paid the required money and I was set free.

There was no time to lose. The news of my being free would doubtless reach Sir Percival within hours. I hurried to the lawyer's office, where I asked if I could see the copy of the Welmingham marriage register. Mr Wansborough was a pleasant man and agreed to show me the copy. In fact, he was quite amused. No one had asked to see it since his father (now dead) had locked it away in the office more than twenty years before.

As I opened the register, my hands trembled. I turned the pages to the year and month. I found the names I remembered just before, and just after, the marriage of Sir Percival's parents. And between these entries, at the bottom of the page...?

Nothing! The marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster was not there! I looked again, to be sure. No, nothing. Not a doubt about it. Sir Percival must have seen the space in the Welmingham register and written in the marriage himself.

I had never once suspected this. He was not Sir Percival Glyde at all! His parents had not been married, so he had no right to the inheritance of Blackwater Park, no right to the rank of Baronet, no right even to the name of Glyde! This was his secret — and it was now mine to use against him!

The copy of the register would be safe enough in the lawyer's office, but I decided to go back to Welmingham and make a copy of the false record from the church register. It was dark now and I ran all the way to the church clerk's house. I knocked on his door, but when he appeared, he looked suspicious and confused.

'Where are the keys?' he asked. 'Have you taken them?'

'What keys do you mean?' I said. 'I've just this minute arrived from Knowlesbury.'

'The keys of the vestry,' he said. 'The keys are gone! Someone's broken in and taken the keys.'

'Get a light,' I said, 'and let's go to the vestry. Quick!'

We ran to the church. On the path we passed a man who looked at us with frightened eyes. He seemed to be a servant of some kind. We did not stop to question him, but ran on.

As we came in sight of the vestry, I saw a high window brilliantly lit from within. There was a strange smell on the night air, a sound of cracking wood, and the light grew brighter and brighter. I ran to the door and put my hand on it. The vestry was on fire!

I heard the key working violently in the lock — I heard a man's voice behind the door, raised in terror, screaming for help.

'Oh, my God!' said the servant, who had followed us, 'it's Sir Percival!'

'God help him!' said the clerk. 'He's damaged the lock.'

*  *  *

At that moment I forget the man's crimes and see only the horror of his situation. Several people are now running towards the church and I call to them to help me break down the door. We look desperately for something to use, and at last someone finds a long heavy piece of wood.

By now the flames are shooting up out of the window, and the screams have stopped. We get the wood into position and run at the door with it. Again, and again! At last the door crashes down, but a wave of heat hits our faces and drives us back — and in the room we see nothing but a sheet of living fire.

*  *  *

The church itself was saved as the fire engine arrived soon afterwards and managed to put out the fire before it spread. They carried out the body of Sir Percival Glyde and laid it on the wet ground. I looked down on his dead face and this was how, for the first and last time, I saw him.

He must have heard that I was free and on my way back to Welmingham, so he hurried to the church, stealing the keys and locking himself in to prevent anyone coming in and finding him. All he could do was tear the page out of the register and destroy it. If the false record no longer existed, I could produce no evidence to threaten him with. He must have dropped his lamp by accident, which started the fire. Then in his urgency to get out, the lock had become damaged and the key unmoveable.

I could not leave the town. There would be a legal enquiry into the accident the next day, which I had to attend, and in any case I had to report back to the police station in Knowlesbury. I returned to the hotel and wrote to Marian, telling her everything that had happened and warning her to keep the news from Laura for the moment. With Sir Percival's death, my hopes of establishing Laura's identity had also died, and I could see no way forward at present.

The next day an envelope with my name on was delivered to the hotel. The letter inside was neither dated nor signed, but before I had read the first sentence, I knew who had written it — Mrs Catherick.


Sir — I thought you were my enemy. Now that he is dead, because of you, I consider you my friend. To thank you for what you have done, I will now tell you the things you wanted to know about my private life.

Twenty-three years ago I was a beautiful young woman living in Welmingham, married to a fool of a husband. I also knew a gentleman — I shall not call him by his name. Why should I? It was not his own. I was born with expensive tastes. This man gave me expensive presents. Naturally he wanted something in return — all men do. And what did he want? Just a little thing. The key to the church vestry, when my husband's back was turned. I liked my presents, so I got him the key. I watched him in the vestry without his knowing, and saw what he was doing. I did not know then how serious a crime it was. I said I would not tell anyone about the marriage he had added to the register if he told me about his private life. He agreed — why, you will see in a moment.

He said that he only found out that his parents were not married after his mother's death. His father confessed to it and promised to do what he could for his son. But he died having done nothing. The son came to England and took possession of the property. There was no one to say he could not. In fact, the right person to claim the property was a distant relation away at sea. However, to borrow money on the property, he needed a certificate of his parents' marriage. This was a problem — a problem which brought him to Welmingham.

As his parents had mostly lived abroad and had had no social life in England, who was to say (the priest being dead) that a private marriage had not taken place at Welmingham church? His plan was to tear out a page from the marriage register in the year before his birth and destroy it. Then he would tell his lawyers in London to get the necessary certificate, innocently referring them to the date on the page that was gone. At least no one could say that his parents were not married.

However, when he saw there was a small space at the bottom of the page in the right year, he changed his plan and took the opportunity to write in the marriage himself. It took him some time, though, to practise the handwriting and to mix the right colour of ink, so that it looked the same.

After my husband caught me talking secretly to him and after their fight together, I asked my fine gentleman to clear my name and to say there had been nothing between us. But he refused. He wanted everyone to believe something false, so that they would never suspect the truth. He then told me that the punishment for his crime, and anyone who helped him, was life in prison. He frightened me! If I spoke out, I was just as lost as he was. He then agreed to make me a yearly payment if I said nothing and stayed in Welmingham, where he could always find me and where there was no danger of my making friends and talking. This was hard, but I accepted.

Many years later, when my daughter was with me at home, I received a letter from him which made me very angry. I lost control of myself and said, in her presence, that 'I could destroy him if I let out his secret'. Then one day he came to our house and called her a fool. Immediately she shouted, 'Ask for my pardon, now, or I'll let out your secret and destroy your life. 'My own words! He went white. Then he swore at us. It ended, as you know, by his shutting her up in an asylum. I tried to tell him she knew nothing. But he did not believe me. My daughter knew that she had frightened him and that he was responsible for shutting her up because he believed she knew his secret. That's why she hated him. But she never to her dying day knew what his secret actually was.

I will end by saying that you insult me if you think my husband was not my daughter's father. Please do not ask further questions about that. To protect myself, I mention no names in this letter, nor do I sign it.


magistrate n. an official conducting a court for minor cases 法官

bail n. money left with a court of law to prove that a prisoner will return when their trial starts 保释金

entry n. an item 条目

brilliantly adv. very brightly 非常亮

produce v. bring forward for consideration or inspection 拿出

12.秘密

在去往诺雷斯伯里的路上,珀西瓦尔爵士的人向我发起了攻击。其中一个走到我旁边,用肩膀撞我。我用力把他推开,他马上大喊起来。另一个人跑过来,他们两个把我夹在了中间。第一个人指责我打他,他们说要把我带到镇上的警察局去。

我能怎么办呢?我没办法打倒他们两个再逃走,现在只得跟他们走了。

到了警察局,第一个人说我打他,另一个人说他是证人。我被关了起来,等着三天后法官开庭审理。他们告诉我可以保释,可是我在这里一个人也不认识,怎么可能找到一个愿意负责的人出钱让我获得暂时的自由呢?他们的整个计划很清楚——让我消失三天,珀西瓦尔爵士就利用这段时间尽一切可能保证他的秘密不被发现。

刚开始,我非常气愤,头脑中一片混乱。后来我想起了道森先生,那位医生。上一次我去布莱克沃特的时候到过他家,所以我知道他的地址。我给他写了封信,告诉他出了什么事,请求他来帮我,然后找了一个送信的帮我把信送走。两个小时后,好心的医生来了,为我交了保释金,我自由了。

必须抓紧时间,因为我被释放的消息肯定几个小时之内就会传到珀西瓦尔爵士那里。我赶到律师的办公室,请求看一下韦明翰的结婚登记记录。万斯伯勒先生是个和气的人,他同意让我看副本。其实,应该说他很高兴,因为自从他父亲(现在已经去世了)20多年前把文件锁在办公室后,从未有人要求查看过。

我翻开记录副本的时候双手在颤抖。我找到了珀西瓦尔爵士父母结婚的年份和月份,以及在他们之前和之后结婚的男女方姓名记录。但是,在这些条目之间,在那一页的底下……?

什么也没有!费利克斯·格莱德爵士和塞西莉亚·埃尔斯特的婚姻根本就没有记录!为了保险起见,我又看了一遍。没有,什么也没有,毫无疑问。珀西瓦尔爵士可能在韦明翰的记录中看到了那个空白,然后自己填上了那条记录。

我从未怀疑到这一点。他根本就不是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士,他的父母没有结婚,他根本没有权利继承布莱克沃特庄园和爵位,甚至根本无权姓格莱德!这就是他的秘密——现在我要利用这个秘密来对付他!

婚姻登记的副本放在律师的办公室很安全,我决定返回韦明翰,复制一份教堂的假记录。天已经黑了,我一路跑到教堂职员的住处。我敲了门,职员出来的时候,脸上布满了疑虑。

“钥匙在哪儿?”他问我,“你把钥匙拿走了吗?”

“什么钥匙?”我说,“我刚从诺雷斯伯里过来。”

“法衣室的钥匙,”他说,“钥匙不见了!有人进来偷走了钥匙。”

“拿上灯,”我说,“我们去法衣室,快!”

我们向教堂跑去。路上碰见一个人,似乎是个仆人,他惊慌地看了看我们。我们没有停下来问他任何问题,而是继续向前跑。

当我们看到法衣室的时候,我发现从一个高处的窗户里发出很亮的光,夜晚的空气中有一股奇怪的味道,可以听到木头劈啪作响的声音,那光变得越来越亮。我跑到法衣室的门口,用手摸了摸门。法衣室起火了!

我听到钥匙在锁里使劲转动的声音——我听到门后有人害怕地高声喊救命。

“噢,上帝!”跟着我们跑过来的仆人说,“是珀西瓦尔爵士!”

“上帝啊,救救他!”职员说,“他把锁弄坏了。”

alt

*  *  *

这个时候,我忘记了这个人的罪恶,只想到他现在的危急处境。有几个人正朝教堂跑过来,我叫他们帮我把门弄开。我们到处找能弄开门的东西,最后有人找来一根很粗的长木头。

这时,火焰已经窜出了窗户,呼叫声已听不见了。我们抬着长木头,一次又一次朝门撞过去。最后门被撞倒了,热浪从屋里冲出来,使我们不得不往后退去——屋里除了一团火什么也看不见。

*  *  *

救火车很快赶到,没等火势蔓延就把火扑灭了,教堂本身没有受到破坏。人们把珀西瓦尔爵士的尸体抬了出来,放在潮湿的地上。我看了看他的脸,这是我第一次也是最后一次看到他。

他一定是听说我被放出来,而且正赶回韦明翰,所以急忙赶到教堂,偷了钥匙,把自己锁在屋子里,不让任何人进去发现他。他唯一能做的就是把那一页从登记簿上撕下来销毁。如果假记录没有了,我就拿不出证据来威胁他。他可能不小心把灯掉到地上,引起了大火。然后,他急着要出来,匆忙中弄坏了锁,钥匙转不动了。

我现在还不能离开这里。转天会有一个事故的法律调查,我必须参加。而且不管怎样,我还得向诺雷斯伯里的警察局报到。我回到旅店,写信给玛丽安,告诉她这里发生的事情,提醒她先不要把这个消息告诉劳拉。珀西瓦尔爵士死了,我证明劳拉身份的希望也不复存在,现在我不知下一步该怎么办。

第二天,一个写着我名字的信封被送到了旅店。里面的信既没有日期,也没有署名。但是还没看完第一句,我就知道是谁写的信了——凯瑟里克太太。

先生——我原以为你是我的敌人。现在因为你,他已经死了,我认为你是我的朋友。为感谢你的所作所为,我现在把你想知道的我的私事告诉你。

23年前,我是一个年轻漂亮的姑娘,住在韦明翰,嫁给了一位傻乎乎的丈夫。我还结识了一位绅士——我不会称呼他的名字。为什么要那样叫他?那不是他的名字。我生来就喜欢贵重的东西,这个人送给我许多贵重礼物,当然他是需要回报的——男人都是这样。这个男人要的是什么?很简单的一样东西。教堂法衣室的钥匙,当然要趁我丈夫不在的时候。我喜欢那些礼物,所以给他弄到了钥匙。我盯着他,看他在法衣室干什么,他并没发觉。当时我不知道那是多么严重的罪行。我跟他说,要是他告诉我他的私事,我不会告诉任何人他擅自增加结婚记录的事。他答应了——至于为什么,你往下看就明白了。

他说在他母亲死后,他才知道他的父母并没有结婚。他父亲承认了这件事,答应尽力为他儿子做些什么。可是他什么都没来得及做,就死去了。他的儿子来到英国继承了遗产。没人说他不能继承,实际上,真正应该继承遗产的是一个正在出海的远亲。然而,要想用那笔财产去借钱,他需要一份父母的结婚证明。这是个问题,为解决这个问题,他来到了韦明翰。

因为他父母大部分时间生活在国外,在英国没什么交际,所以谁会说(牧师已经死了)韦明翰教堂没举行过一场私下的婚礼呢?他的计划是把他出生前那一年的婚姻登记页撕下来销毁。然后,他就会告诉伦敦的律师们去取必要的证明文件,并假装不知情地把那个已经不存在的登记页上的日期告诉他们。至少谁也不会说他父母没结婚。

但是,他发现那年的登记页上靠下面有一点空白,于是改变了主意,趁机把他父母的婚姻写了进去。当然,他也颇费了些时间去模仿登记用的笔迹,还有配制合适的墨水颜色,让这条记录看起来跟其他的没有差别。

我丈夫看到我和他密谈,他们两个打了一架以后,我叫他帮我洗清名声,告诉别人我们之间什么也没发生,但是他拒绝了。他希望大家都相信并没有发生的事情,这样一来,人们就不会去想真相如何了。他还跟我说如果他的罪行败露,他以及帮过他的人都将被终生监禁。他让我害怕极了!如果我说出他的秘密,那我和他都完了。他答应每年支付我一笔钱,条件是我保持沉默,继续住在韦明翰,让他随时可以找到我,也免得我与人交朋友,然后乱讲话。虽说条件很苛刻,我还是答应了。

很多年以后,那时我女儿同我在一起,我收到他的一封信把我惹恼了。我无法控制自己,当着女儿的面说:“我把他的秘密说出去就能毁了他。”后来有一天,他来我家,管我女儿叫傻瓜,她一下子喊了起来:“赶快请求我原谅你,不然我就把你的秘密说出去,毁了你。”完全是我说过的话!他的脸一下子变白了。他向我们破口大骂。最后,你知道,他把她关进了精神病院。我试图告诉他,她什么也不知道。可是他不相信我。我女儿明白她使他害怕了,是他把她关进了精神病院,因为他认为她知道了他的秘密。这就是为什么她那么恨他。但是,她其实到死也不知道那秘密到底是什么。

最后我要说的是,如果你认为我丈夫不是我女儿的父亲,你就是污辱我。请不要多问了。为了保护我自己,信中没有提到任何名字,我也不会署名。

13
The threat

Mrs Catherick's extraordinary and shameless letter filled me with disgust. My interest in Sir Percival Glyde's crime was now at an end, but I decided to keep the letter in case it might help me find out who Anne's father really was.

Later in the morning I went to the legal enquiry into Sir Percival's death. I was only asked to say what had happened. I was not asked how I thought the keys had been taken, how the fire had been caused, or why Sir Percival had gone into the vestry. As no one could explain any of these things, the verdict at the end of the enquiry was 'death by accident'.

Afterwards, a gentleman who was also at the enquiry walked back to the hotel with me. He had heard from Sir Percival's lawyer that a distant relation abroad would now inherit Blackwater Park. This was obviously the person who should have inherited it twenty-three years before. If I made Sir Percival's crime public, it would be to no one's advantage now. If I kept the secret, the true character of the man who had cheated Laura into marrying him would remain hidden. And for her sake, I wished to keep it hidden.

I still could not leave Hampshire, as I had to report to the police station in Knowlesbury the next day. I spent another night at the hotel and in the morning went to the post office to collect the letter from Marian. As promised, we had written to each other every day, and Marian's letters had been full of cheerful news. This morning's letter was short, and terrified me.


Come back as soon as you can. We have had to move. Come to Gower's Walk, Fulham (number five). I will look out for you. Don't be alarmed about us, we are both safe and well. But come back. — Marian


What had happened? What dreadful thing had Count Fosco done while I was away? In spite of my anxiety, I had to wait. I paid my bill at the hotel and took a cab to Knowlesbury.

At the police station, as I expected, no one appeared to continue the action against me and I was allowed to go. Half an hour later I was on the train back to London.

I got to Gower's Walk in Fulham at about nine o'clock. Both Laura and Marian came to the door to let me in. Laura was much brighter and happier, full of plans for the future and for her drawing and painting. Marian's face was tired and anxious. I could see that she had spared Laura the knowledge of the terrible death in Welmingham and the true reason for moving to new lodgings. When Laura had left us and we could speak freely, I tried to give some expression to my feelings and told Marian how much I admired her for the courage and love she had shown.

She was too generous to listen to me, and turned the conversation to my worries.

'I'm so sorry for my letter — it must have alarmed you.'

'Yes, it did,' I admitted. 'Was I right in thinking that you moved because of a threat by Count Fosco?'

'Perfectly right,' she said. 'I saw him yesterday, and worse than that, Walter — I spoke to him.'

'Spoke to him? Did he come to the house?'

'He did. Yesterday, when I was passing the window, I saw him in the street. Then there was a knock on the door. I rushed out and there he was, dressed in black, with his smooth face and his deadly smile. I closed the door behind me so that Laura would not see or hear him.'

'What did he say?' I asked anxiously.

'He greeted me, then repeated the warning in his letter to me. He said he had not been able to prevent Sir Percival's violence towards you, and he had found out our address in order to protect his own interests. You were followed, Walter, on your return home after your first journey to Hampshire. He used this information only when he heard of Sir Percival's death, because he believed you would act against him next.'

'And he was right,' I said. 'What did he say about me?'

'He was very cool, very polite, and very threatening,' said Marian. 'He said, "Warn Mr Hartright! He has an intelligent and powerful man to deal with. Let him be content with what he has got. Say to him, if he attacks me, I will use all my power to destroy him. There is nothing I will not do. Dear lady, good morning." Then he just looked at me with his cold grey eyes, and walked away.

'I ran back inside, and told Laura we had to move. We needed a quieter neighbourhood with better air for the sake of her health. I said you'd wanted us to do that, and why didn't we do it now to surprise you when you got back. She liked that idea, and was quite happy to move. I found these lodgings through an old school friend. I did the right thing, didn't I, Walter?'

I answered her warmly and gratefully, as I really felt.

But the anxious look remained on her face, and I saw in her eyes her continuing fear of the Count's cleverness and energy.

'What do you think of his message, Walter? What do you plan to do next?'

'I decided weeks ago that Laura will be received in her uncle's house again,' I answered. 'And my decision remains the same. Count Fosco will answer for his crime to ME.'

Marian's eyes lit up. She said nothing, but I could see how strongly she supported this plan.

'I know the risks are great,' I said, 'but it must be done. I'm not foolish enough to try this before I'm well prepared. I can wait. Let him think his message has produced its effect. He will start to feel safe. Also, my position towards you and Laura ought to be a stronger one than it is now.'

'How can it be stronger?' she asked, surprised.

'Marian, I would like you to say to Laura, gently, that her husband is dead.'

'Oh, Walter, so soon? You have a reason for this, don't you?'

'Yes. I cannot speak to Laura yet. But one day, not too distant, I want to tell her that I love her.'

Marian looked at me for a time, then gave a sad, gentle smile. 'Yes, I understand. I think I owe it to her and to you, Walter, to tell her of her husband's death.'

The next day Laura knew that death had released her from her marriage, and her husband's name was never mentioned among us again.

*  *  *

Our life returned to its usual pattern, but I did not forget the Count. I discovered that he had rented his house in St John's Wood for another six months, so I was fairly sure he would still be in London, within my reach, when the time came to act.

We finally solved the puzzle of who Anne Catherick's father was. When I went again to see Mrs Clements and to tell her about Anne's death, she remembered where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Her employer had been a Mr Donthorne.

We wrote to Mr Donthorne, who replied with some very interesting information. Philip Fairlie, Laura's father, had been a great friend of his when they were young, and a frequent house guest. He was a handsome man and fond of female company. Mr Donthorne was fairly certain that Philip Fairlie had been staying at his house when Mrs Catherick was employed as a servant, in the year before Anne was born.

When Marian and I checked the dates; when we considered that Anne and Laura looked so alike; and when we took into account the fact that Laura looked very much like her father, we were in no doubt that here was the solution. Philip Fairlie was Anne's father, and so Anne was Laura's half-sister.

Now, at last, the woman in white, that strange sad shadow walking in the loneliness of the night, could rest in peace.

*  *  *

Four months passed. Laura grew stronger in body and in mind. She was almost her old self, and when we talked, it was as we used to talk at Limmeridge. If I touched her by accident, I felt my heart beating fast, and I saw the answering colour in her face.

In April, we went for a holiday at the seaside. While we were there I told Marian that when we returned to London, I was determined to force a confession from Count Fosco — to make him tell me the real date of Laura's journey to London.

'But if I am to challenge the Count, for Laura's safety, I think I should challenge him as her husband. Do you agree, Marian?'

'With every word,' she said. 'I parted you both once. Wait here, my brother, my best and dearest friend! Till Laura comes, and tells you what I have done now!'

She kissed my forehead and left the room. I waited by the window, staring out at the beach, seeing nothing, hardly able to breathe. The door opened, and Laura came in alone. When we parted at Limmeridge, she had come into the room slowly, in sorrow and hesitation. Now she ran to me, with the light of happiness shining in her face. She put her arms around me, and her sweet lips came to meet mine.

'My darling!' she whispered, 'May we say we love each other now? Oh, I am so happy at last!'

Ten days later we were even happier. We were married.


verdict n. a decision; a judgment 结论

spare somebody the knowledge of keeping somebody from knowing 不让某人知道……

deadly adj. horrible 可怕的

answer for be responsible 受到惩罚

fairly adv. to a noticeable degree 相当地

13.威胁

凯瑟里克太太奇怪而又不知羞耻的来信使我对她充满了鄙夷。现在,我对珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行已经没有兴趣了,但我还是决定留着这封信,也许它会帮我找出安妮的父亲究竟是谁。

上午晚些时候,我去参加珀西瓦尔爵士死亡的法律调查。他们只让我说说发生了什么,没有问我如何看待钥匙为什么会被拿走,火灾是怎么发生的,或者为什么珀西瓦尔爵士会进到法衣室去。没有人能够解释这些问题,所以调查的最终结论是“意外死亡”。

之后,一位也参加了调查的男子和我一起走回旅店。他从珀西瓦尔爵士的律师那里得知,一个国外的远亲现在要来继承布莱克沃特庄园。很明显,这就是23年前应该继承庄园的那个人。假如我把珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行公之于众,现在对谁都没有好处。假如我不把秘密说出去,这个欺骗劳拉与之结婚的人的真正人品就不会有人知道。但为了劳拉,我愿意保守这个秘密。

我还不能离开汉普郡,因为转天还要去诺雷斯伯里警察局。我在旅店又住了一晚。第二天一早,我去邮局取玛丽安的来信。我们按约定每天通信。玛丽安的来信一直都是好消息。今天早上的来信很短,但却令我害怕。


请尽快回来。我们不得不搬了家。到富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街(5号)来找我们。我也会留意等你。不必为我们担心,我们很安全。一定快回来。玛丽安


出了什么事?我不在的时候,福斯科伯爵又做了什么坏事?尽管非常担心,我还是得等。我付清了旅店的费用,叫了辆马车直奔诺雷斯伯里。

在警察局,不出我所料,没人来继续同我纠缠,我可以走了。半个小时后,我登上了返回伦敦的火车。

大约9点钟,我赶到了富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街。劳拉和玛丽安都到门口迎接我。劳拉的脸色比以前好多了,人也高兴多了,对将来和她的绘画有很多想法。玛丽安的脸上带着倦容和忧虑。看得出她没有把珀西瓦尔死在韦明翰的可怕消息和搬到新住处的真实原因告诉劳拉。劳拉走开以后,我们可以随便谈话了。我想告诉她我非常敬佩她的勇气和她对劳拉表现出的爱。

这位慷慨的姑娘没等我说完就把话题转到我的担忧上来了。

alt

“给你写那样的信,真是对不起——你一定很为我们担心吧。”

“是的,我的确很担心,”我说,“我猜你们搬家是由于福斯科伯爵的威胁,对吗?”

“一点儿不错,”她回答,“我昨天看见他了,更糟糕的是,沃尔特——我跟他说话了。”

“跟他说话了?他去你们的住处了?”

“是的。昨天,我从窗旁走过的时候,看见他在街上。过了一会儿,有人敲门。我马上跑过去开门,就是他,穿一身黑色衣服,光滑的脸上带着吓人的微笑。我关上了身后的门,这样劳拉就看不见他,也听不见他说话了。”

“他都说了什么?”我急切地问。

“他跟我打了招呼,然后再一次重复了他在信中对我的警告。他说他没能阻止珀西瓦尔爵士针对你的恶劣行为,他找到我们的住处是要保护他自己的利益。你第一次去汉普郡回来的时候就被跟踪了,沃尔特。他在听到珀西瓦尔爵士的死讯后才决定登门,因为他认为你下一个对付的目标就是他。”

“让他说对了,”我说,“他说我什么了?”

“他非常冷静而有礼,同时又非常具有威胁性,”玛丽安接着说,“他说,‘请警告哈特里特先生!他要对付的是一个有智慧、有权势的人。叫他对已经得到的东西知足吧。告诉他,如果他跟我对着干,我将不遗余力地干掉他。我会不择手段的。亲爱的小姐,再见。’然后,他用冷酷的灰眼睛看了看我,就走了。

“我赶忙跑进屋,跟劳拉说我们得搬家。为她的健康着想,我们需要一个更安静、空气更好的地方。我说你也希望我们搬家,为什么不现在就搬,等你回来给你一个惊喜呢。她喜欢这个主意,欢天喜地地同意了。我通过一个校友找到这个住处。我做得没错吧,沃尔特?”

我说她做得非常好,这是我的心里话。

但是,她脸上依然带着忧虑,从她的眼神里看得出,她还在害怕伯爵的精明和权势。

“沃尔特,你怎么看他的那些话?下一步你准备怎么做?”

“几星期前,我就决定让劳拉重新在她叔叔家得到应有的承认,”我回答,“现在我还是这样想的。我要让福斯科伯爵为他犯下的罪行付出代价。”

玛丽安的眼睛一亮,虽然没有说话,但是看得出她非常支持这个计划。

“我清楚这样做风险很大,”我说,“但这件事一定要做。我不会愚蠢到没做好准备就动手。我可以等。让他觉得他的话起了作用,认为已经平安无事了。另外,我跟你和劳拉的关系也该比现在更明确。”

“怎么个更明确法?”她吃惊地问。

“玛丽安,我希望你能心平气和地告诉劳拉,她丈夫已经死了。”

“噢,沃尔特,这么快就告诉她?你这样做是不是有什么原因?”

“是的,我现在还不能跟劳拉谈,但总有一天,不会太久,我会告诉她我爱她。”

玛丽安看了我一会儿,然后淡淡地、略带忧伤地笑了笑,“好吧,我明白。我想这是我欠你们的,沃尔特,我会把她丈夫的死讯告诉她。”

第二天,劳拉知道她丈夫死了,她也从这段婚姻中解脱了,那以后我们谁也没再提过她丈夫的名字。

*  *  *

我们的生活恢复了往常的模式,但是我没有忘记伯爵。我了解到他在圣约翰伍德的房子又续租了6个月,因此可以肯定,到了我采取行动的时候,他还会在伦敦,我还可以找到他。

我们终于弄清了安妮·凯瑟里克的父亲是谁。我又去见了克莱门茨太太,告诉她安妮已经死了。她记起凯瑟里克太太当仆人的地方。她的雇主姓多桑。

我们给多桑先生写信,他在回信中告诉我们一些非常有趣的信息。菲利普·费尔利,就是劳拉的父亲,年轻时和他是好友,也是他家里的常客。菲利普风流潇洒,喜欢女色。多桑先生非常肯定凯瑟里克太太在他家当仆人的那段时间,也就是安妮出生的前一年,菲利普·费尔利一直住在他家。

玛丽安和我算了算时间,我们想到安妮和劳拉如此地相像,想到劳拉如此地像她父亲,我们得到了非常肯定的答案。菲利普·费尔利是安妮的父亲,安妮和劳拉是同父异母的姐妹。

现在,那位白衣女人,那位在寂静深夜出现的古怪而哀伤的女人终于可以安息了。

*  *  *

四个月过去了,劳拉的身体渐渐强壮起来,头脑也慢慢清楚了。她几乎又是原来的她了。我们交谈的时候,感觉和当初在利默里奇谈话时一样。当我无意间碰到她的时候,我感到心跳在加速,而且我注意到她也脸红了。

4月,我们到海边度假。在那里,我告诉玛丽安,等回到伦敦,我一定要迫使福斯科伯爵说实话,让他说出劳拉回伦敦的真正日期。

“但是为了劳拉的安全,我想如果我挑战伯爵的话,最好以她丈夫的身份前去,你同意吗,玛丽安?”

“完全同意,”玛丽安说,“我曾让你们两个分开,你在这儿等我一下,我的好朋友!一会儿劳拉就过来,她会告诉你我这次是怎么做的,好吗?”

她吻了吻我的额头,走了出去。我在窗旁等着,眼睛望着海滩,却什么也看不到,我紧张得几乎喘不过气来。门开了,劳拉一个人走进来。我们在利默里奇分手的时候,她是慢慢地走进房间的,神情充满了痛苦和犹豫。这会儿,她跑向我,脸上闪耀着幸福的光芒。她张开手臂紧紧地拥抱我,用甜润的双唇吻着我。

“亲爱的!”她轻声说,“现在我们能对彼此说‘我爱你’了吧?啊,我终于得到幸福了!”

十天以后,我们的幸福又向前迈进了一步,我们结婚了。

14
The confession

A fortnight later, we returned to London, and I began to prepare for my battle with the Count. It was now early May and the rental agreement for his house ended in June. In my new happiness with Laura (to whom we never mentioned the Count's name), I was sometimes tempted to change my mind and to leave things as they were. But she still had dreams, terrible dreams that made her cry out in her sleep, and I knew I had to go on.

First, I tried to find out more about the Count. Marian told me that he had not been back to Italy for many years. Had he been obliged to leave Italy for political reasons, I wondered? But Marian also said that at Blackwater Park he had received official-looking letters with Italian stamps on, which would seem to contradict this idea. Perhaps he was a spy, I thought. That might explain why he had stayed in England so long after the successful completion of his plot. Who could I ask who might know something? Another Italian, perhaps — and I suddenly thought of my old friend, Professor Pesca.

Before I did that, I decided to have a look at the Count, as up to this time I had never once set eyes on him. So one morning I went to Forest Road, St John's Wood, and waited near his house. Eventually, he came out and I followed behind him as he walked towards the centre of London. Marian had prepared me for his enormous size and fashionable clothes, but not for the horrible freshness and cheerfulness and energy of the man.

Near Oxford Street he stopped to read a sign announcing an opera, and then went into the opera ticket office, which was nearby. I went over to read the sign. The opera was being performed that evening, and it seemed likely that the Count would be in the audience.

If I invite Pesca to the opera, I thought, I can point the Count out to him and find out if he knows him. So I bought two tickets myself, sent Pesca a note, and that evening called to take him with me to the opera.

The music had already started when we went in, and all the seats were filled. However, there was room to stand at the sides. I looked around and saw the Count sitting in a seat half-way down, so I placed myself exactly on a line with him, with Pesca standing at my side. When the first part finished, the audience, including the Count, rose to look about them.

When the Count was looking in our direction, I nudged Pesca with my elbow. 'You see that tall fat man? Do you know him?'

'No,' said Pesca. 'Is he famous? Why do you point him out?'

'Because I have a reason for wanting to know more about him. He's an Italian, and his name is Count Fosco. Do you know that name? Look — stand on this step so that you can see him better.'

A slim, fair-haired man, with a scar on his left cheek, was standing near us. I saw him look at Pesca, and then follow the direction of his eyes to the Count. Pesca repeated that he did not know him, and as he spoke, the Count looked our way again.

The eyes of the two Italians met.

In that second I was suddenly convinced that, while Pesca may not have known the Count, the Count certainly knew Pesca!

Not only knew him, but — more surprising still — feared him as well. The Count's face had frozen into a dreadful stillness, the cheeks as pale as death, the cold grey eyes staring in terror.

Nearby, the man with the scar also seemed to be watching with interest the effect that Pesca had had on the Count.

'How the fat man stares!' Pesca said, looking round at me. 'But I've never seen him before in my life.'

As Pesca looked away, the Count turned, moving quickly towards the back of the theatre, where the crowd was thickest. I caught Pesca's arm and, to his great surprise, hurried him with me after the Count. The slim man with the scar had apparently also decided to leave, and was already ahead of us. By the time Pesca and I reached the entrance, neither the Count nor the slim man was in sight.

'Pesca,' I said urgently, 'I must speak to you in private. May we go to your lodgings to talk?'

'What on earth is the matter?' cried Pesca.

I hurried him on without answering. The way the Count had left the theatre, his extraordinary anxiety to avoid Pesca, made me fear that he might go even further — and out of my reach.

In Pesca's lodgings, I explained everything as fast as I could, while Pesca stared at me in great confusion and amazement.

'He knows you — he's afraid of you. He left the theatre to escape you,' I said. 'There must be a reason, Pesca! Think of your own life before you came to England. You left Italy for political reasons. I don't ask what they were. But could that man's terror be connected with your past in some way?'

To my inexpressible surprise, these harmless words seemed to terrify Pesca. His face went white and he started to tremble.

'Walter!' he whispered. 'You don't know what you ask.'

I stared at him. 'Pesca, forgive me. I didn't mean to cause you pain. I spoke only because of what my wife has suffered from that man's cruel actions. You must forgive me.'

I rose to go. He stopped me before I reached the door.

'Wait,' he said. 'You saved my life once. You have a right to hear from me what you want to know, even though I could be killed for it. I only ask that, if you find the connection between my past and that man Fosco, you do not tell me.'

Then, his face still pale as the memories of the past crowded in on him, he told me the story.

'In my youth I belonged — and still belong — to a secret political society. Let's call it the Brotherhood, I can't tell you its real name. But I took too many risks and did something which put other members in danger. So I was ordered to go and live in England and to wait. I went — I have waited — I still wait. I could be called away tomorrow, or in ten years. I cannot know.

'The purpose of the Brotherhood is to fight for the rights of the people. There is a president in Italy, and presidents abroad. Each of these has his secretary. The presidents and secretaries know the members, but members don't know each other, until it's considered necessary. Every member of the Brotherhood is identified by a small round mark burnt into the skin, high up on the inside of their left arm.'

He rolled up his sleeve and showed me his own mark.

'If anyone betrays the Brotherhood,' he went on, 'he is a dead man. Another member, a distant stranger or a neighbour, will be ordered to kill him. No one can leave the society — ever.'

Pesca paused, then continued. 'In Italy I was chosen to be secretary. The members at that time were brought face to face with the president, and were also brought face to face with me. You understand me — I see it in your face. But tell me nothing, I beg you! Let me stay free of a responsibility which horrifies me.

'I do not know the man at the opera,' he said finally. 'If he knows me, he is so changed, or disguised, that I do not know him. Leave me now, Walter. I have said enough.'

'I thank you with all my heart, Pesca,' I said. 'You will never, never regret the trust you have placed in me.'

Walking home, my heart beat with excitement. Here at last, surely, was my weapon against the Count! I was convinced he was a member of the Brotherhood, had betrayed it, and believed that he had been recognized tonight. His life was now in danger. What else could explain his extreme terror at seeing Pesca?

And what would he do next? Leave London as fast as he could. If I went to his house and tried to stop him, he would not hesitate to kill me. To protect myself, I had to make his safety depend on mine. I hurried home and wrote this letter to Pesca:

The man at the opera, Fosco, is a member of your society and has betrayed it. Go instantly to his house at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. I am already dead. Use your power against him without delay.

I signed and dated the letter, and wrote on the envelope: Keep until nine o'clock tomorrow morning. If you do not hear from me before then, open the envelope and read the contents.

I then found a messenger, told him to deliver the letter and bring back a note from Professor Pesca to say he had received it. Twenty minutes later I had the note, and as I was leaving, Marian came to the door, looking anxious.

'It's tonight, isn't it?' she said. 'You're going to the Count.'

'Yes, it's the last chance, and the best.'

'Oh, Walter, not alone! Let me go with you. Don't go alone?'

'No, Marian. You must stay here and guard Laura for me. Then I will be easy in my mind when I face the Count.'

*  *  *

As I approached the Count's house, I passed the man with the scar on his cheek, whom I had noticed earlier at the opera. What was he doing here, I wondered?

I sent in my card, and I still do not know why the Count let me into his house at half past eleven at night. Was he just curious to see me? He would not have known that I was at the opera with Pesca, and I suppose he thought he had nothing to fear from me.

He was still in his evening suit, and there was a travelling case on the floor, with books, papers, and clothes all around him. My guess had been right.

'You come here on business, Mr Hartright?' he said, looking at me with curiosity. 'I cannot think what that might be.'

'You are obviously preparing for a journey,' I said. 'That is my business. I know why you are leaving London.'

'So you know why I am leaving London?' He went over to a table and opened a drawer.' Tell me the reason, if you please.'

'I can show you the reason,' I said. 'Roll up the sleeve on your left arm, and you will see it.'

His cold grey eyes stared into mine. There was a long heartbeat of silence. I was as certain as if I had seen it that he had a gun hidden in the drawer, and that my life hung by a thread.

'Wait a little,' I said. 'Before you act, I advise you to read this note.' Moving slowly and carefully, I passed him Pesca's note.

He read the lines aloud.

Your letter is received. If I don't hear from you before nine o'clock, I will open the envelope when the clock strikes.

Another man might have needed an explanation, but not the Count. His expression changed, and he closed the drawer.

'You are cleverer than I thought,' he said. 'I cannot leave before nine as I have to wait for a passport to be delivered. Your information may be true or may be false — where did you get it?'

'I refuse to tell you.'

'And that unsigned note you showed me — who wrote it?'

'A man whom you have every reason to fear.'

A pause. 'What do you want of me, Mr Hartright? Is it to do with a lady, perhaps?'

'Yes, my wife,' I answered.

He looked at me in real amazement, and I saw at once that he no longer considered me a dangerous man. He folded his arms and listened to me with a cold smile.

'You are guilty of a wicked crime,' I went on. 'But you can keep the money. All I want is a signed confession of the plot and a proof of the date my wife travelled to London.'

'Good!' he said. 'Those are your conditions; here are mine. One, Madame Fosco and I leave the house when we please and you do not try to stop us. Two, you wait here until my agent comes early tomorrow morning and you give him an order to get back your letter unopened. You then allow us half an hour to leave the house. Three, you agree to fight me at a place to be arranged later abroad. Do you accept my conditions — yes or no?'

His quick decision, his cleverness and force of character amazed me. For a second I hesitated. Should I let him escape? Yes, the evidence I needed to prove Laura's identity was far more important than revenge.

'I accept your conditions,' I said.

At once, he called for coffee and sat down to write. He wrote quickly for quite some time. Finally, he jumped up, declared that he had finished and read out his statement, which I accepted as satisfactory. He gave me the address of the company from whom he had hired the cab to collect Laura, and also gave me a letter signed by Sir Percival. It was dated 25th July, and announced the journey of Lady Glyde to London on 26th July. So there it was. On 25th July, the date of her death certificate in London, Laura was alive in Hampshire, about to make a journey the next day.

The Count then called in Madame Fosco to watch me while he slept. Early in the morning his agent arrived and I wrote a note for Pesca. An hour later, the agent returned with my unopened letter and the Count's passport.

'Remember the third condition!' the Count said as he left. 'You will hear from me, Mr Hartright.' Then he and the Countess got into the agent's cab with their bags and drove away, leaving the agent with me to make sure I did not follow.

As I watched them leave, another cab went by and I saw inside the man with the scar on his cheek. What was his business with the Count, I wondered? I had seen him too often now for it to be chance. Perhaps I had fought my own battle with the Count just in time. You cannot get a signed confession out of a dead man.

While I waited for the agreed half hour, I read the document that the Count had written for me.


Statement by Isidor Ottavio Baldassare Fosco

In the summer of 1850 I arrived in England on delicate political business and stayed with my friend, Sir Percival Glyde. We both urgently needed large amounts of money. The only person who had such money was his wife, from whom not a penny could be obtained until her death. To make matters worse, my friend had other private problems. A woman called Anne Catherick was hidden in the neighbourhood, was communicating with Lady Glyde, and knew a secret which could ruin him. And if he was ruined, what would happen to our financial interests?

The first thing to do was to find Anne Catherick, who, I was told, looked very much like Lady Glyde and who had escaped from a mad-house. I had the fantastic idea of changing the names, places and lives of Lady Glyde and Anne Catherick, the one with the other. The wonderful results of this change would be the gain of £ 30,000 and the keeping of Sir Percival's secret.

I found Anne Catherick and persuaded her and her friend to return to London. I rented a house in St John's Wood for myself, and obtained from Mr Fairlie in Limmeridge an invitation for Lady Glyde to visit. For my plan to work, it was necessary for Lady Glyde to leave Blackwater Park alone and stay a night at my house on her way to Limmeridge. This plan was made easier by Miss Halcombe's illness. I returned to Blackwater Park, and when Miss Halcombe was out of danger, I got rid of the doctor and instructed Sir Percival to get rid of the servants.

Next, we sent Mrs Michelson away for a few days, and one night Madame Fosco, Mrs Rubelle and I moved the sleeping Miss Halcombe to an unused part of the house. I left for London in the morning with my wife, leaving Sir Percival to persuade Lady Glyde that her sister had gone to Limmeridge and that she should follow her, breaking her journey in London at my house.

On 24th July, with my wife's help, I got hold of Anne Catherick, and took her to my house as Lady Glyde. However, when she saw no one she recognized, she screamed with fear and, to my horror, the shock to her weak heart caused her to collapse. By the end of the following day, she was dead. Dead on the 25th, and Lady Glyde was not due to arrive in London till the 26th!

It was too late to change the plan. I remained calm and carried on. On the 26th, leaving the false Lady Glyde dead in my house, I collected the true Lady Glyde from the railway station and took her to Mrs Rubelle's house. The two medical men I had hired (shall we say) were easily persuaded to certify the confused and frightened Lady Glyde as mentally ill. Then I gave her a drug and had Mrs Rubelle dress her in Anne Catherick's clothes. The next day, the 27th, she was delivered to the asylum, where she was received with great surprise, but without suspicion. The false Lady Glyde was buried at Limmeridge. I attended the funeral with suitable expressions of deep sympathy.

One final question remains. If Anne Catherick had not died when she did, what would I have done? I would, of course, have given her a happy release from the prison of life.


tempt v. to make someone want to have or do something 引诱

contradict v. be in conflict with 与……相矛盾

perform v. act 表演

nudge v. push gently 轻轻地碰

inexpressible adj. that can not be expressed 难以说清的

disguise v. alter the appearance so as to conceal the identity 伪装

curious adj. eager to learn; inquisitive 好奇的

aloud adv. audibly 出声地

agent n. a person who acts for another in business, politics etc. 代理人

delicate adj. tricky 微妙的

fantastic adj. wonderful 绝好的

14.认罪

两个星期之后,我们回到了伦敦。我开始准备与伯爵的较量。现在是5月初,他租房的期限到6月。享受着与劳拉新婚的幸福(我们从未跟她提起过伯爵),有时我忍不住想改变主意,让一切都过去。但是劳拉仍会做梦,可怕的噩梦,她常常在梦里惊叫起来,因此我明白必须继续原来的计划。

首先,我想尽量多了解一些伯爵的事。玛丽安告诉我,他已经很多年没有回意大利了。我想,他是不是由于政治原因被迫离开意大利的呢?但是玛丽安又说,在布莱克沃特庄园他好像收到过贴着意大利邮票的官方来信,这两者是互相矛盾的。也许他是间谍。这样可以解释为什么他在自己的阴谋得逞后,还在英国逗留那么久。有谁能告诉我答案呢?也许该再找个意大利人问问——猛然间我想到了老朋友,佩斯卡教授。

去见佩斯卡教授前,我决定先去看一下伯爵,因为到目前为止,我还从来没有见过他。于是一天早上,我去了圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特大街,在他的住处附近等他出现。最后,他终于出来了,朝伦敦市中心走去。我在后面跟着他。玛丽安跟我提过他身躯肥胖,衣着入时,但我没想到这个人那么精力旺盛,神采飞扬。

在牛津街附近,他停住脚步看一个歌剧的海报,然后走进了不远处的售票处。我过去看了一下海报,发现演出就在晚上,伯爵很可能会出现在观众当中。

我想假如邀请佩斯卡来看歌剧,就可以把伯爵指给他,看他是否认识。于是,我自己买了两张票,给佩斯卡写了封短信,晚上找他一起去看歌剧。

我们进入剧院的时候,音乐已经响起来了,剧场里座无虚席。不过剧场两边还有站的地方。我环顾四周,看到伯爵坐在前面几排的座位上,于是我也站到了那一排,佩斯卡站在我旁边。第一部分演出结束了,观众们,包括伯爵在内,都起身向周围张望。

在伯爵朝我们这个方向看的时候,我用臂肘碰了一下佩斯卡,“看见那个高大的胖子了吗?你认识他吗?”

“不认识,”佩斯卡回答,“他很有名吗?你为什么让我看他?”

“因为我需要更多地了解关于他的情况。他是意大利人,叫福斯科伯爵。你听说过这个名字吗?来,站这个台阶上,你会看得更清楚些。”

一个瘦瘦的金发男子站在我们的旁边,他的左脸上有一道疤。我注意到他看了看佩斯卡,又顺着佩斯卡的视线看了看伯爵。佩斯卡再一次对我说,他不认识那个人,就在他说话的时候,伯爵朝我们这边看过来。

这两个意大利人的目光相遇了。

那一瞬间,我敢肯定地说,佩斯卡可能不认识伯爵,但伯爵一定认识佩斯卡!

不仅是认识,更令人惊奇的是伯爵害怕佩斯卡。伯爵脸上的表情凝固了,像死人一样毫无血色,冷酷的灰眼睛恐惧地盯着这边。

脸上有疤的人似乎饶有兴趣地在一旁看着佩斯卡对伯爵的影响。

“那个胖子怎么那样看着我!”佩斯卡说,转过头看着我,“我从未见过他呀。”

佩斯卡扭头的时候,伯爵转身快步向剧场后边走去,那里人最多。我一把抓住佩斯卡的胳膊,不顾他的惊讶,拉着他紧追伯爵。那个脸上有疤的瘦子显然也准备离开剧场,并且已经走到了我们的前面。等我和佩斯卡赶到入口,伯爵和那个瘦子都已经不见了。

“佩斯卡,”我赶忙说,“我必须和你单独谈谈,我们到你的住处去谈可以吗?”

“这到底是怎么回事?”佩斯卡大声说。

我没回答,只是催着他赶紧走。伯爵离开剧场的样子,还有他迫不及待地要躲避佩斯卡,使我担心他可能会逃得更远——我可能再也找不到他了。

到了佩斯卡的住处,我以最快的速度向他讲述了事情的经过,他充满迷惑和惊讶地望着我。

他认识你——他很怕你。他离开剧场就是要逃避你,”我说,“这其中一定有原因,佩斯卡!回忆一下你来英国以前的经历。你是由于政治原因离开意大利的,我不是问你那些政治原因,不过那个人如此惊慌会不会同你的过去有什么关联?”

令我非常吃惊的是,这些本来无关紧要的话好像令佩斯卡非常惊恐。他的脸色变得煞白,身体开始颤抖。

“沃尔特!”他低声说,“你不知道你问了什么。”

我两眼紧盯着他,“佩斯卡,请原谅。我不是有意要给你带来痛苦,我说那些话只是因为那个人给我妻子带来了巨大的伤害。请你原谅我。”

我起身要离开,还没走到门口,他叫住了我。

“等一下,”他说,“你救过我的命,你有权从我这里知道你想要知道的东西,即使这会要了我的命。我唯一的请求是,即使你发现了我的过去同那个福斯科的关系,你也不要告诉我。”

接着,他开始讲他的经历,过去的记忆卷土重来,令他脸色煞白。

“我年轻的时候参加了一个秘密政治社团,现在还是它的成员。我们姑且叫它兄弟社团,我不能告诉你真实的名称。我当时完成了很多出生入死的任务,也做了一些给其他成员带来危险的事,所以社团命令我到英国待命。我服从命令来了英国——一直在等——现在还在等。我可能明天就被召回,也许是10年以后。我不知道。

“兄弟社团的宗旨是为人民争取权利。它在意大利有一个主席,国外有很多主席。每个主席都有秘书。主席和秘书认识所有的成员,但除非在必要的情况下,成员们彼此都不认识。每个兄弟社团成员的左臂内侧靠上的地方都有一个很小的圆形烙印,这是他们的记号。”

他卷起衣袖,给我看他自己的烙印。

“任何人背叛了兄弟社团,”他接着说,“他肯定会被处死。其他成员,也许是一个他不认识的陌生人,也许是他的邻居,会奉命杀死他。任何人不能退出社团——永远都不可以。”

佩斯卡停了一会儿又说:“在意大利,我被选为秘书,所有的成员那时都被带来见主席,当然也就见到了。你明白了我的意思——我从你的表情看出来了。但是,什么也别跟我说,求你了!我不想做我必须做的事,我感到害怕。

“我不认识剧场的那个人,”他最后说,“如果他认识,那他一定跟以前变化很大,或者伪装了自己,让我认不出来了。你现在走吧,沃尔特。我说得够多了。”

“我衷心地感谢你,佩斯卡,”我说,“你永远不会为信任我而后悔的。”

走在回家的路上,我的心情激动不已。我终于找到了对付伯爵的武器。我敢肯定他原来是一个兄弟社团成员,后来背叛了社团,他认为自己今晚被认出来了。现在他的生命很危险。不然他见到佩斯卡为什么那样害怕呢?

那他接着会做什么呢?尽快离开伦敦。如果我去他的住处拦住他,他肯定会毫不犹豫地杀了我。为保护我自己,我必须让他的生命安全地攥在我的手里。我赶忙回到家,给佩斯卡写了一封信:

剧场的那个人,福斯科,是你们社团的一个成员,他背叛了社团。赶快到他的住处圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特街5号。我已经死了。请用你的力量立即干掉他。

我签了名,写上日期,又在信封上写道:等到明天上午9点。如果到那时还没有我的消息,再打开信封读里面的内容。

然后,我找了一个信使,叫他把信送走并带回佩斯卡的回复,说他已经收到信了。20分钟后,我拿到了回复的纸条。我刚要离开,玛丽安出现在门口,脸上露出担忧的表情。

“就是今天晚上吗?”她说,“你要去找伯爵。”

“对,这是最后的机会,也是最好的机会。”

“噢,沃尔特,别一个人去!让我跟你去吧,不要一个人去!”

“不行,玛丽安。你必须留在这里替我保护劳拉。那样,我面对伯爵的时候才会放心。”

*  *  *

快到伯爵住处的时候,我碰见了脸上有疤的那个人,早些时候在剧场就见过他。他在这儿做什么,我心里很纳闷。

我把名片递进去,我到现在也不明白,为什么夜里11点半伯爵还让我进去。他对我好奇,想见我?他并不知道我和佩斯卡同在剧场,我猜想他觉得我没有什么好怕的。

他还穿着晚礼服,地上有一个旅行箱,他周围满是书籍、文件和衣服。我猜的没错。

“你来这里有事,哈特里特先生?”他一边说,一边用好奇的眼光打量我,“我想不出会是什么事。”

“你像是在准备出门旅行,”我说,“这就是我来的原因。我知道你为什么要离开伦敦。”

“你知道我为什么要离开伦敦?”他走到一张桌旁,打开抽屉,“如果你愿意,说说为什么。”

“我可以让你看看为什么,”我说,“把你左边的衣袖卷起,就能看到。”

他那冷酷的灰眼睛一动不动地盯着我。接下来是一阵令人紧张的寂静。我就像亲眼所见一样清楚,那抽屉里藏着枪,我现在命悬一线。

“等一下,”我说,“你动手之前,我建议你看看这个纸条。”我慢慢地、小心翼翼地把佩斯卡的纸条递给他。

他出声读着纸条。

你的信收到了。如果9点以前没有你的消息,9点整,钟一响我就打开信封。

假如换作另外一个人,可能需要一些解释,但伯爵不需要。他脸上的表情变了,他关上了抽屉。

“你比我想的要聪明,”他说,“我9点以前走不了,我得等人给我送护照来。你得到的信息可能是真的,也可能是假的。你是从哪儿知道的?”

“我不会告诉你的。”

“你给我的没有签名的纸条是谁写的?”

“一个你非常害怕的人。”

他停了一会儿,“你要我做什么,哈特里特先生?是不是跟一位女士有关?”

“是的,是我妻子。”我回答。

他非常吃惊地看着我。看得出他不再认为我会给他带来危险了。他双手交叉抱在胸前,面带冷笑听我继续说下去。

“你犯下了严重的罪行,”我接着说道,“但是,你可以留着你得到的钱。我只要一个由你签名的认罪书,还有我妻子回伦敦的日期证明。”

“好!”他说,“这是你的条件,我的条件是:第一,福斯科夫人和我在我们愿意的时候离开这里,你不要阻止我们。第二,你呆在这里,明天一早我的代理人过来,你让他取回那封还没有打开的信。然后,你要给我们半个小时的时间离开这里。第三,你答应跟我在国外找一个地方决斗。你接受我的条件吗——是还是否?”

他的迅速决断,他的精干和意志力令我震惊。我犹豫了一会儿。我应该让他逃走吗?是的,证明劳拉身份的证据比复仇重要得多。

“我接受你的条件。”我说。

他随即叫人拿来咖啡,坐下开始写。他落笔如飞,写了很长时间。最后,他站起来,说他已经写完了并念给我听。我觉得还满意。他给了我他租车接劳拉的那家公司的地址,同时给我的还有珀西瓦尔爵士签名的一封信。信的日期是7月25日,里面说格莱德夫人将于7月26日启程去伦敦。这就是证据。7月25日,即死亡证明上宣告劳拉死于伦敦的日子,劳拉还在汉普郡活着准备第二天的旅行。

然后,伯爵把福斯科夫人叫进来,让她看着我,他自己去睡觉。第二天一早,他的代理人来了,我给佩斯卡写了封短信。一个小时后,代理人拿着我那封没打开的信和护照回来了。

“别忘了第三个条件!”伯爵临走时说,“你会收到我的信的,哈特里特先生。”说完,他和伯爵夫人坐上代理人的马车离开了这里,代理人留下来,确保我不跟踪他们。

我看着他们离开,这时另一辆马车驶过去,车里坐着那个脸上有疤的人。他和伯爵有什么瓜葛?我看到他好几次了,不应该是巧合。或许我跟伯爵的较量正是时候。他要是死了,我就没法得到他签名的笔录了。

在约定的半小时里,我读了伯爵写给我的认罪书。

伊西多·奥塔维奥·鲍尔德塞尔·福斯科的证词

1850年夏天,由于微妙的政治原因我来到英国,同我的朋友珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士住在一起。我们两人都急需一大笔钱。唯一拥有这笔钱的人是他妻子,但是他妻子不死,我们一分钱也得不到。更糟糕的是,我的朋友又遇到了别的麻烦事。一个叫安妮·凯瑟里克的女人藏在我们附近,她在同格莱德夫人接触,并且掌握着一个可以毁掉珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。如果他完蛋了,那我们的经济利益怎么办呢?

我们要做的第一件事就是找到安妮·凯瑟里克。我了解到她的长相和格莱德夫人极为相似。她是从精神病院逃出来的。我突发奇想,把格莱德夫人同安妮·凯瑟里克的名字、住处、经历互换一下。互换的结果既可以让我们得到3万英镑,又能够保住珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。

我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,说服她和她的朋友回伦敦去。我自己在圣约翰伍德租了房子,同时从利默里奇的费尔利先生那里得到了邀请格莱德夫人去看望他的信。要实现我的计划,必须让格莱德夫人一个人离开布莱克沃特庄园,在去往利默里奇的途中在我家里住一夜。哈尔库姆小姐的病让我的计划更容易进行了。我回到布莱克沃特庄园,等哈尔库姆小姐一脱离危险,就辞退了医生,并且让珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了所有仆人。

下一步,我们让米切尔森太太离开庄园几天。一天晚上,福斯科夫人、鲁贝尔太太和我把昏睡中的哈尔库姆小姐抬到了一个没有人住的房间里。转天一早,我和夫人赶往伦敦,留下珀西瓦尔爵士劝说格莱德夫人,让她相信她姐姐已经去了利默里奇,她也应该去找她,途中在伦敦我的家休息。

7月24日,在我妻子的协助下,我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,把她带到我的住处,假装就是格莱德夫人。然而,当安妮·凯瑟里克看到没有一个她认识的人时,吓得叫了起来。令我非常害怕的是,惊吓使她脆弱的心脏无法承受,转天她就死了。她是25日死的,可是格莱德夫人26日才能到伦敦!

改变计划已经来不及了。我尽量保持头脑冷静,继续着原来的计划。26日,我把已死的假格莱德夫人留在家里,到车站去接真正的格莱德夫人,带她到鲁贝尔太太家。我雇用的(可以这样说)两个医生很容易就被说服了,他们证明迷惑而惊恐的格莱德夫人患了精神病。而后,我给她吃了镇静药,让鲁贝尔太太给她穿上安妮·凯瑟里克的衣服。第二天,也就是27日,格莱德夫人被送进精神病院,那里的人非常吃惊,但没有人怀疑。假格莱德夫人被埋葬在利默里奇。我出席了葬礼,表现出应有的悲伤与同情。

还有最后一个问题,如果安妮·凯瑟里克没有死的话,我会怎么办呢?我当然很高兴帮她摆脱牢笼般的人生。

15
The proof

When the half hour had passed, I returned home. After a brief explanation to Laura and Marian, I hurried back to St John's Wood to find the cab-driver whom the Count had hired to collect Laura at the station. He wrote me a statement, which he and a witness signed, saying that on 26th July 1850 he had driven a Count Fosco to the railway station where they had collected a Lady Glyde. He remembered Lady Glyde's name, he said, from the labels on her luggage.

Then I went to Mr Kyrle's office and presented him with the proof of Laura's identity — the letter from Sir Percival, the statement by the cab-driver, the confession by the Count, and the death certificate. Amazed, he congratulated me, and agreed to accompany us to Limmeridge the next day, where I intended to have Laura publicly received and recognized.

Early the next morning Laura, Marian, Mr Kyrle and I took the train to Limmeridge. Laura and Marian stayed at first in a hotel while Mr Kyrle and I went to the house to deal with Mr Fairlie. He complained like a child, saying how was he to know his niece was alive when he was told she was dead? Between us, the lawyer and I made him sign letters calling all those who had attended the false funeral to come to the house the next day.

As I led Laura into her childhood home the following morning, there was a murmur of surprise and interest from the waiting crowd of villagers and neighbours. The business was soon done. I read out the story of the plot against Laura, and Mr Kyrle announced that everything I had said was proved by the strongest evidence. I put my arm around Laura, raised her up, and called to the crowd:

'Are you all agreed that this is the Laura Fairlie you knew?'

'There she is, alive and well — God bless her!' It was an old man at the back of the room who began it, and in an instant everybody was shouting and cheering together.

Later, in the churchyard, we watched a stone worker remove Laura's name from the gravestone. In its place he put this:

ANNE CATHERICK

25TH JULY 1850

We returned to London the following day, happy in the thought that the long struggle was now over.

*  *  *

Several days later Pesca came to see me, and asked for a quiet word in my ear. He had just returned from Paris.

'I have news for you, my friend,' he said. 'You need not worry any more about the man at the opera. His body was found in the river Seine yesterday and now lies in the morgue in Paris. He was killed by knife wounds to the heart.'

'Count Fosco is dead?' I said, amazed. 'Are you sure?'

'I saw the body with my own eyes. He was wearing a French workman's clothes, and had a different name, of course, but he was the fat man we saw at the opera that night. No question.'

'But how do you know this?' I asked.

Pesca hesitated. 'A man brought me some information,' he said. 'I had to see the body, and send a report about it.'

'A man,' I said. 'What kind of man?'

'A stranger,' said Pesca. 'I didn't know him. A man with a scar on his left cheek.' He saw the understanding in my face, and held up his hand. 'No more questions, my friend. Please!'

We never spoke about it again, but I think Pesca was telling me that the Brotherhood had taken their revenge. And so Count Fosco, that extraordinary, evil man, passed from this world.

*  *  *

The following year our first child was born — a son. Six months later my newspaper sent me to Ireland and, when I returned, I found a note from my wife saying she and Marian and little Walter had gone to Limmeridge House. She begged me to follow as soon as possible. Very surprised, I caught the next train. When I got there, Marian and Laura told me Mr Fairlie was dead and that Mr Kyrle had advised them to go to Limmeridge House.

Laura came close to me and I half realized some great change was happening in our lives.

'Do you know who this is, Walter?' Marian asked, holding up my little son, with tears of happiness in her eyes. 'This is the boy who will one day inherit Limmeridge House.'

So she spoke. In writing those last words, I have written everything. Marian was the good friend of our lives — let Marian end our story.


label n. a small piece of paper, card etc. attached to an object and giving information about it 标签

congratulate v. express pleasure at the happiness or good fortune or excellence of a person 祝贺

morgue n. a room or building in which dead bodies may be kept until burial or cremation 停尸间

15.证据

alt

那半个小时过去了,我回到家里。简单地向劳拉和玛丽安说明了情况后,我立即赶回圣约翰伍德去找那个伯爵雇来到车站接劳拉的车夫。那人给我写了份证词,他和另一个证人都签了字。证词说,1850年7月26日他驾车送福斯科伯爵去车站,接了一位格莱德夫人。他说还记得格莱德夫人的名字,是在行李标签上看到的。

然后,我去了克尔先生的办公室,给他看了证明劳拉身份的证据——珀西瓦尔爵士的信、马车夫的证词、伯爵的认罪书和那份死亡证明。克尔先生很吃惊,接着向我表示祝贺并且答应第二天陪我们到利默里奇,我准备让人们公开地接受和认可劳拉。

转天的一大早,劳拉、玛丽安、克尔先生和我乘火车前往利默里奇。劳拉和玛丽安先在一家旅店里休息,克尔先生和我去庄园与费尔利先生交涉。费尔利先生像孩子一样抱怨说,有人告诉他他侄女死了,他怎么会知道他侄女还活着?在只有我们三个人的情况下,克尔先生和我让他在事先准备好的信上签字,邀请所有参加那场假葬礼的人第二天到费尔利家来。

第二天早晨,当我带着劳拉走进她儿时的家时,等候在那里的村民和邻居们发出惊奇的低语声。很快我们进入了正题。我大声宣读了针对劳拉的罪恶阴谋的全过程,克尔先生当众宣布我说的每一件事都证据确凿。我搂住劳拉,扶她起来,高声对众人说:

“你们说这是不是你们认识的劳拉·费尔利?”

“是她,她还好好地活着——上帝保佑她!”一位站在屋子后面的老人首先说,其他人也都立刻欢呼起来。

后来,在教堂墓地里,我们亲眼看着一位石匠把劳拉的名字从墓碑上凿去,在原来的地方刻上:

安妮·凯瑟里克

卒于1850年7月25日

转天,我们返回了伦敦,想到漫长的斗争终于结束了,我们都非常高兴。

*  *  *

过了几天,佩斯卡来看我,要跟我单独聊聊。他刚从巴黎回来。

“我有重要的消息要告诉你,我的朋友,”他说,“你不用再担心剧场里的那个人了,昨天在塞纳河发现了他的尸体,现在他的尸体停放在巴黎的停尸间。他是被人用刀子刺进心脏而死的。”

“福斯科伯爵已经死了?”我吃惊地问,“你能肯定吗?”

“我亲眼看了他的尸体,他穿着法国工人的制服,当然也换了名字,但他就是那天晚上我们在剧场见到的那个胖子。一点儿没错。”

“可你是怎么知道这个消息的呢?”我问。

佩斯卡犹豫了一下。“有人告诉我的,”他说,“我必须亲眼看到他的尸体,然后发一个报告。”

“有人,”我说,“是什么人?”

“一个陌生人,”佩斯卡回答,“我不认识那个人,他的左脸上有一道疤。”看到我脸上了然的表情,他抬了抬手,“请不要多问了,我的朋友!”

我们再没有提起这件事,不过我想佩斯卡是要告诉我兄弟社团已经采取了复仇行动。就这样,福斯科伯爵,那个能力不俗的恶徒从这个世界上消失了。

*  *  *

第二年,我们的第一个孩子出世了——是个儿子。6个月以后,我供职的那家报社派我去了爱尔兰。我回来的时候,看到妻子留给我的一封短信,信上说她和玛丽安还有小沃尔特去了利默里奇庄园。她让我尽快去找他们。我感到很惊讶,赶下一班火车去了那里。我到那儿之后,玛丽安和劳拉告诉我费尔利先生去世了,是克尔先生建议她们到利默里奇庄园去的。

劳拉走到我身边,我朦胧地意识到我们的生活将要发生什么大事。

“你知道这是谁吗,沃尔特?”玛丽安一边举起我的小儿子,一边问我,眼睛里充满了喜悦的泪水,“这个孩子将来有一天会继承利默里奇庄园。”

她就是这样说的。写完了最后几句话,我的讲述就到这里了。玛丽安是我们的终生好友——就让她结束我们的故事吧。

9.The gravestone

PART THREE
THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
第三部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

9
The gravestone

On 13th October 1850 I left the wild forests of Central America and returned to England. I had escaped death by disease, death by war, and death by drowning, and hoped that these experiences had strengthened me to face my future — a future without Laura Fairlie. I still remembered her as Laura Fairlie, and could not think of her by her husband's name.

The first thing I did was to visit my mother and sister in their Hampstead cottage. The joy of our meeting, however, soon turned to sadness. I have no secrets from my mother, and when I saw the loving pity in her eyes, I feared the worst.

The news was soon told. I tried hard not to let my sorrow spoil the happiness of my return for my mother and sister, but by the third day I knew I had to go away alone for a while.

'Let me go up to Limmeridge,' I begged my mother. 'I can bear it better when I have seen her grave.'

It was a warm autumn afternoon when I arrived at the station and walked down the familiar road, seeing in the distance the high white walls of Limmeridge House. In the churchyard I found the grave and knelt down beside the gravestone, closing my eyes.

Oh my love! My Love! My dear, dear Love!

Hours passed, and the evening sunlight threw long shadows among the sleeping places of the dead. I had lost all sense of time, kneeling there. Then, in the silence, I heard the soft sound of footsteps on the grass.

I looked up.

Beyond me, standing together by the churchyard wall, were two women, their veils down, hiding their faces. They were looking towards the grave, looking towards me.

Two.

They came closer, and stopped. One of them lifted her veil, and in the still evening light I saw the face of Marian Halcombe. A changed face. Thin and pale, full of pain and fear.

The woman with the veiled face came towards me slowly. Marian Halcombe sank to her knees, murmuring, 'Oh God, help him! Please, please help him, God!'

The veiled woman came on, slowly and silently. I looked at her — at her, and at no one else, from that moment. She had possession of me, body and soul. She stopped by the side of the gravestone, and we stood face to face with the grave between us.

'Oh God, help him, help him!'

The woman lifted her veil.

In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde...

Laura, Lady Glyde, was standing by the gravestone, looking at me over her grave.

*  *  *

A life suddenly changed. A new future before me, like the sunlit view from a mountain top. I leave my story in the quiet shadow of Limmeridge church, and begin again, one week later, in the noise and rush of a London street.

I have rented rooms under a different name. Marian and Laura, using the same name, are said to be my sisters. I earn our bread by doing drawings for cheap magazines. We employ no servant; my elder sister, Marian, does the housework with her own hands. Marian and I are known to be the friends of mad Anne Catherick (address unknown), who falsely claims the identity of Lady Glyde. To the rest of the world, Laura, Lady Glyde, is dead. Dead to her uncle, who has refused to recognize her; dead to the lawyers, who have passed her fortune to her husband and aunt.

But to Marian and me she is alive! Penniless and sadly changed — her beauty faded, her mind confused — but alive, with her poor drawing teacher to fight her battles and to win her way back to the world of living beings. She is mine at last — mine to support, to protect, to defend. And mine to love.


drown v. to kill by submerging and suffocating in liquid 淹死;溺死

strengthen v. make stronger 变得坚强

veil n. a piece of fabric attached to a woman's hat 面纱

earn one's bread earn one's living 维持生计

penniless adj. having no money 身无分文的

9.墓碑

1850年10月13日我离开中美洲的原始森林,回到了英国。我一次次逃过疾病、战争和洪水带来的死亡危险。我希望这些经历能够使我更加坚强地面对未来——没有劳拉的未来。在我心里她依然是劳拉·费尔利,我无法把她冠以她丈夫的姓氏。

我回来后的第一件事是到汉普斯特德看望母亲和妹妹。欢聚的快乐很快转化为悲伤。我没有任何秘密瞒着母亲,从她充满爱怜和同情的眼光里,我预感到最坏的事情发生了。

她们把消息告诉了我。我尽最大努力不让自己的悲哀破坏我回家带给母亲和妹妹的喜悦。但是,回来的第三天,我觉得必须一个人离开一段时间。

“让我到利默里奇去一趟吧,”我恳求着母亲,“看到她的坟墓,我可以更好地接受这一切。”

那是一个秋日的午后,天气很暖和,我到达目的地车站,走在熟悉的大路上,望着远处利默里奇庄园的白色高墙。在教堂墓地里,我找到了劳拉的墓,在她的墓碑前跪下来,闭上了双眼。

我的爱人我的爱人我最亲爱的人

几个小时过去了,落日的余辉在死者的安息地投下长长的影子。我跪在那里,完全没有了时间概念。这时,寂静中传来人走在草地上的脚步声。

我抬起头来。

不远处,教堂墓地的围墙边站着两个女人,面纱遮住了她们的脸。她们正朝墓地张望,正朝张望。

两个女人。

她们朝我走来。其中一个掀起了面纱,借着仅有的一点儿光线,我看出那是玛丽安·哈尔库姆小姐。她的脸变得跟从前不一样了:清瘦而苍白,充满了痛苦和恐惧。

头戴面纱的女人缓慢地向我走来。玛丽安·哈尔库姆跪下来,轻声说:“噢,上帝,帮帮他吧,帮帮他吧,上帝!”

头戴面纱的女人向我走来,缓慢地,无言地向我走来。我注视着她——目不转睛地久久注视着她。她占据了我的一切,我的灵魂和肉体。她在墓碑前停住脚步,我们隔着坟墓互相注视着。

“噢,上帝,帮帮他,帮帮他吧!”

那个女人掀起了面纱。

爱妻劳拉·格莱德夫人之墓……

劳拉·格莱德夫人,她就站在墓碑旁,隔着坟墓望着我。

alt

*  *  *

生活突然间变了。一个崭新的未来展现在我的面前,就像在山顶上看到的撒满阳光的景色。我把过去的故事留在了利默里奇教堂那寂静的阴影中,一星期后在喧闹、繁忙的伦敦开始了新的生活。

我换了一个姓氏租了房子。玛丽安和劳拉也用同样的姓氏,对外人就说是我的姐妹。我靠给廉价杂志画画维持生计。我们没有请仆人,我的姐姐,玛丽安亲自做家务。我和玛丽安对外就说是疯女人安妮·凯瑟里克(住址不详)的朋友,那疯女人总说自己是格莱德夫人。对世界上其他人来说,劳拉·格莱德夫人已经死了;对拒不承认她的叔叔,她已经死了;对把她的财产转给她丈夫和姑妈的律师,她也已经死了。

但是对于玛丽安和我,她还活着!她身无分文,人也变了——她的美丽在消逝,头脑一片混乱——但她还活着,她那可怜的绘画教师要为她奋争,使她重新回到真实的生活中来。她终于属于我了——由我供养、呵护、保护,由我所爱。

10
The rescue

At the first opportunity we had, Marian told me everything that had happened to her and Laura. The hardest part for her was after she had returned to Limmeridge House.

'I was in despair, Walter,' she said. 'Mr Kyrle's investigation was finished, and had shown nothing, he said. Mr Fairlie was no help at all — I heard that he didn't even leave his room to go to the funeral! But he did show me a letter he'd received from Count Fosco, which contained news of Anne Catherick. The Count said that Anne Catherick had been found and put back in the asylum from which she had escaped. But because she hated Sir Percival and wanted to make trouble for him, she was now claiming that she was not Anne Catherick at all, but Lady Glyde. The Count warned Mr Fairlie that if she escaped again, she might try to annoy members of Lady Glyde's family.

'I wasn't well enough to do anything for about a month after returning to Limmeridge, but when I felt stronger, I decided to make some investigations myself. First, I planned to visit the asylum in London and talk to poor Anne Catherick, to find out why she was claiming to be Laura. I knew the address because you had given it to me, all those months ago.

'Well, Walter, you can guess what's coming, I'm sure. The director of the asylum, who seemed an honest person, told me that Anne Catherick had been brought back on 27th July. He was puzzled by some odd personal changes in her, but assumed they were caused by her mental illness. He then called a nurse to take me to Anne Catherick, who was walking in the gardens.

'Imagine the shock, Walter — seeing my dead sister walking towards me in that garden! We just ran into each other's arms, unable to say a word. How the nurse stared at us!'

'I think I know how you must have felt,' I said. 'I shall never forget in the churchyard at Limmeridge... But tell me, however did you get Laura out of the asylum?'

'Bribery, Walter. I didn't want to risk a legal battle and all the delay that would involve, so I persuaded the nurse that a terrible mistake had been made and she would be doing a good thing in helping Anne Catherick escape. And I offered her £400. The plan went smoothly, and by early afternoon the next day Laura and I were on the train to Cumberland.'

'And Laura?' I asked. 'What actually happened on the day she left Blackwater Park and came to London?'

Marian sighed. 'Oh, Walter, it's not at all clear. Poor Laura's mind is so confused now that her memory of events is very unreliable. She can't even remember the date she left Blackwater. All she has been able to tell me is this. The Count met her at the station, and said that I was still in London and that he would take her to see me at once. She doesn't remember where the cab went, but it was clearly not to his house in St John's Wood. She was taken to a house in a narrow street, where people came and went, asking her questions she didn't understand. At this point the Count told her I was now very ill; she was so frightened by this news she nearly fainted. Someone then gave her a glass of water, which she said tasted odd — and after that she lost consciousness.'

'Poor, poor Laura,' I murmured.

'She woke up,' Marian continued, 'in the asylum, unable to leave, unable to make contact with the outside world. She was called by Anne Catherick's name and found she was wearing clothes with Anne Catherick's name on them. She was told Lady Glyde was dead and buried, and that she was Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick... Day in, day out, from 27th July to 15th October, she was made to feel that she was mad. It's hardly surprising her mind is so confused now.'

'And what happened at Limmeridge?' I asked.

Marian turned her face away. 'I can't bear to think about it,' she said. 'The worst part was taking Laura into Mr Fairlie's room. He looked straight into Laura's face and said, "My niece is buried in Limmeridge churchyard. I don't recognize this woman. Remove her from my house before I call on the law to protect me." Even the servants were doubtful about her identity, because she was so much changed and so confused by her experiences. Perhaps people would have been persuaded if we'd stayed longer, but I didn't dare risk it. At any minute the people from the asylum might come looking for us, so I decided to return to London at once and hide. Then, as we were passing the churchyard, Laura insisted on a last look at her mother's grave. And... well, that moment changed our three lives.'

'I think God was guiding Laura's footsteps,' I said.

How well I remember that day — that moment when Laura laid her poor head innocently and trustingly on my shoulder, and said, 'They have tried to make me forget everything, Walter, but I remember Marian, and I remember you.'

*  *  *

The plot against Laura was now clear. Anne Catherick had been taken into Count Fosco's house as Lady Glyde, and Lady Glyde had taken the dead woman's place in the asylum. It was also clear that the three of us could expect no mercy from Count Fosco and Sir Percival, who between them had gained £30,000 from the plot. They would do everything in their power to prevent their crime being discovered, and would hunt for their victim to separate her from her only friends — Marian and myself. This is why I had chosen a poor and crowded part of London to live in. It is easier to hide in a place where people are always coming and going.

Our life quickly took on a regular pattern — work, watching out for our enemies, and care of Laura, whom we surrounded with a gentle, protective love, helping her slowly but steadily to recover her balance of mind and her self-confidence.

Meanwhile, Marian and I began the battle. We studied the statements that Mr Kyrle had taken from witnesses — the doctor, and the servants and cook in Count Fosco's house. I obtained a copy of Lady Glyde's death certificate, and Marian wrote to Mrs Michelson, who replied, saying that she could not remember the exact date of Laura's departure from Blackwater Park. Nor could she remember when the letter announcing Laura's death, which was undated, had arrived from Madame Fosco.

I also arranged to visit Mr Kyrle, to ask for his help. After listening to my long explanation, the lawyer shook his head.

'My legal opinion, Mr Hartright, is that you won't win this case in a court of law. I accept, of course, that the identity of Lady Glyde as a living person is a proved fact to Miss Halcombe and yourself. But there is no evidence. If you could prove that the date on the death certificate was earlier than the date of Lady Glyde's journey to London, then you might have a case.'

As I left, he gave me a letter that had been delivered to him for Marian, and told me, in answer to my question, that Sir Percival Glyde had returned to London.

Outside in the street I soon noticed two men following me, and realized too late that the Count's spies must have been watching the lawyer's office, in the hope that Marian or I would go there. I went home by a very long route and managed to lose them, but it was a warning to me to be more careful.

Marian was very worried when I told her about the two men. Then I gave her the letter. She recognized the writing instantly.

'It's from Count Fosco.'


Dear and admirable woman, do not be afraid! Stay hidden, with your gentle companion, and nothing will happen to you. Challenge nothing, threaten nobody. Do not, I beg you, force me into action. If Mr Hartright returns to England, do not speak to him. If he crosses my path, he is a Lost man. F.


'Walter!' Marian said, her eyes flashing with anger. 'If ever the Count and Sir Percival are at your mercy and you must spare one of them, don't let it be the Count.'

'I'll keep this letter to remind me when the time comes,' I said. 'But tomorrow I will go to Blackwater, to try and find out the date of Laura's journey to London. It's the one weak point in their plot.'

'You mean that perhaps Laura did not leave for London until after the date on the death certificate?'

'Exactly. I think she left on 26th July. The Director of the asylum said she was taken there on the 27th. I doubt if they could have kept her drugged more than one night. We know from Mrs Michelson that Sir Percival left on the same day as Laura. I'll ask everyone in the village if they remember when he left.'

'And if that fails?'

'If that fails, Marian, I'll force a confession from Sir Percival. We have one weapon against him — his secret. Anne Catherick said that if his secret was known, it would ruin him. I intend to find out that secret. The woman in white, though dead in her grave, is still with us and is showing us the way!'


bribery n. persuading a person to act in one's favor by a gift of money or services 贿赂

unreliable adj. not liable 不可靠的

plot n. a conspiracy or secret plan esp. to achieve an unlawful end 阴谋

mercy n. kindness, pity, and willingness to forgive 仁慈

cross one's path meet sb by chance 与…偶然相遇

flash v. burst 闪烁

10.营救

我们刚一有机会交谈,玛丽安就把她和劳拉的遭遇从头到尾讲给我听。最令她难过的是回到利默里奇之后的经历。

“我太绝望了,沃尔特,”她说,“克尔先生的调查结束了,他说什么也没发现。费尔利先生一点儿忙也不帮——我听说他甚至都没离开他的房间去参加葬礼!不过他倒是把福斯科伯爵的信给了我,信里面有安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。伯爵说安妮·凯瑟里克已经找到了,被送回了原来的精神病院。但是,凯瑟里克因为痛恨珀西瓦尔爵士,想给他找麻烦,所以她现在自称不是安妮·凯瑟里克,而是格莱德夫人。伯爵提醒费尔利先生,假如她再逃出来,很可能要给格莱德夫人的家人添乱子。

“回来的头一个月,我身体虚弱,什么也干不了。后来身体恢复了,我决定亲自去调查。首先,我准备去伦敦的精神病院找可怜的安妮·凯瑟里克谈谈,弄清楚为什么她要自称是劳拉。我知道地址,是你几个月前给我的。

“噢,沃尔特,我相信你能猜到接下来发生的事情。精神病院的院长看上去是个正直的人,他告诉我,安妮·凯瑟里克是7月27日被送回来的。他对凯瑟里克身上的变化感到很困惑,但他推测是由于精神方面的疾病造成的。然后,他叫一名护士带我去见安妮·凯瑟里克,她正在花园散步。

“想象一下,当时我有多么震惊,沃尔特——我看到自己死去的妹妹在花园里朝我走来!我们跑向对方,紧紧地抱在一起,一句话也说不出来。护士不解地望着我们。”

“我很清楚你当时的心情,”我说,“我永远不会忘记在利默里奇教堂墓地……可是,你是怎么把劳拉救出精神病院的呢?”

“贿赂,沃尔特。我不想打官司,那样太冒险,也会耽误很长时间。所以,我对护士说,这里一定有严重的误会,如果她能帮助安妮·凯瑟里克逃走,就做了一件天大的好事。之后,我给了她400英镑。计划进行得很顺利,第二天刚过中午,我和劳拉就乘上了开往坎伯兰郡的火车。”

“那么,劳拉呢?”我问,“她离开布莱克沃特庄园到伦敦后,到底发生了什么?”

玛丽安叹了口气,“噢,沃尔特,现在还不清楚。可怜的劳拉思维很乱,她的记忆不可靠。她连离开布莱克沃特的日期都记不起来。她能告诉我的就是,伯爵在车站接她,告诉她我还在伦敦,他要带劳拉马上去见我。她不记得车往哪里走了,但是很明显不是去伯爵在圣约翰伍德的家。她被带进一条小巷里的一间房子,那里人来人往,问一些她听不懂的问题。这时,伯爵告诉她我病得很严重,她听了非常害怕,几乎昏了过去。接着有人给了她一杯水,她说水的味道很怪,之后她就失去了知觉。”

“可怜的劳拉。”我低声自语着。

“她醒来以后,”玛丽安接着说,“发现自己在精神病院里,既不能离开,也无法同外界接触。别人叫她安妮·凯瑟里克,她发现自己穿着有安妮·凯瑟里克名字的衣服。别人告诉她格莱德夫人已经死了,被安葬了,她就是安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克……一天又一天,从7月27日到10月15日,他们强迫她认为自己疯了。难怪现在她思维混乱。”

“在利默里奇发生了什么?”我问道。

玛丽安把头转向一侧。“我简直不忍心想在那儿发生的事情。”她回答,“最糟的就是我带劳拉走进费尔利先生的房间后,他紧盯着劳拉的脸说:‘我侄女已经埋在利默里奇教堂墓地了。我不认识这个女人。赶快带她出去,不然我要用法律来保护自己了。’仆人们也对劳拉的身份很怀疑,因为她变化太大了,她的经历也让她思绪异常混乱。也许我们逗留的时间长一些,大家会被说服,但是我不想冒这个险,因为精神病院的人随时都会来找我们,所以我决定马上回伦敦躲起来。当我们经过教堂的时候,劳拉坚持要最后再看一眼她母亲的坟墓。后来……嗯,那一刻改变了我们三个人的生活。”

“我想是上帝在引导着劳拉的脚步。”我说。

我清楚地记得那天——可怜的劳拉将头依偎在我的肩头,充满了纯洁与信任。她说:“他们想叫我忘掉一切,沃尔特,但我还记得玛丽安,我还记得。”

*  *  *

针对劳拉的阴谋现在已经清楚了。安妮·凯瑟里克被当作格莱德夫人带进了福斯科伯爵的家里,格莱德夫人在精神病院里取代了那个已经死了的女人的位置。还有一点也很明显,福斯科伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士是不会放过我们三个的。他们两人从这个阴谋中得到30,000英镑。他们会尽一切可能不让他们的罪行败露,也会极力追寻他们所陷害的人,并把她同她的朋友们——玛丽安和我——分开。这就是为什么我选择伦敦一处既贫穷又拥挤的地方住下来,因为在一个人来人往的地方比较容易躲藏。

我们的生活很快形成了一个较为固定的模式——工作,留意我们的敌人,照顾劳拉。我们细心地照顾她,保护她,帮助她慢慢地恢复正常的思维和自信心。

与此同时,玛丽安和我开始了紧张的调查。我们仔细研究克尔先生记录的证词——分别来自医生以及伯爵家的仆人和厨师。我弄到了一份格莱德夫人的死亡证明。玛丽安给米切尔森太太写信,米切尔森太太回信说记不清劳拉离开布莱克沃特庄园的确切日期了,也记不清福斯科夫人来信通知他们劳拉死讯的具体时间了,那封信没有注明日期。

我还安排与克尔先生见面,请求他的帮助。听我把前因后果一一讲完后,克尔先生摇了摇头。

“作为律师,哈特里特先生,我认为你不会赢得这场官司。当然我同意,你和哈尔库姆小姐可以证明格莱德夫人还活着,但是你没有证据。如果你能证明死亡证明上的时间比格莱德夫人去伦敦的时间,那你可能会赢这场官司。”

我要离开的时候,他交给我一封信,是要他转给玛丽安的。同时,他在回答我的提问时透露,珀西瓦尔爵士已经回到伦敦了。

在外面的街道上,我很快注意到有两个人在跟踪我。我这才意识到伯爵的人肯定一直在监视克尔先生的办公室,以防玛丽安和我会到那儿去。我绕远路回家,设法甩掉了跟踪我的人,但是这件事提醒我今后要更加小心。

我把两个人跟踪我的事告诉了玛丽安,她非常担心。我把那封信交给她,她马上就认出了写信人的笔迹。

“是福斯科伯爵写的。”


亲爱的、尊敬的女士,请不要害怕!继续同你温柔的伙伴藏好,你们就不会有事。不要试图做任何事情,不要给任何人带来威胁。我请求你们,不要强迫我采取行动。如果哈特里特先生回英国来,不要同他接触。假如他找我的麻烦,他就死定了。福斯科。


“沃尔特!”玛丽安眼里闪着愤怒的光,“如果伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士落到你的手里,而你又必须放过他们中的一个的话,一定不要放过伯爵。”

“我要留着这封信,让它到时候提醒我应该怎么做,”我说,“明天我要去一趟布莱克沃特,查一查劳拉去伦敦的日期。这是他们阴谋中的一个漏洞。”

“你是说劳拉可能是在死亡证明上的日期之后才去伦敦的?”

“没错。我想她是7月26日动身的。精神病院的院长说她是27日被送进去的。我怀疑他们是否能让劳拉昏迷超过一晚上的时间。米切尔森太太说,珀西瓦尔爵士是和劳拉同一天离开的。我要问村里的每一个人,是不是还记得珀西瓦尔爵士什么时候离开的。”

“如果这样不行呢?”

“如果不行的话,玛丽安,我就逼珀西瓦尔爵士认罪。我们用他的秘密对付他,安妮·凯瑟里克说如果他的秘密让人知道了,那他就完了。我想查出他的秘密来。那个白衣女人虽说已经死了,但是还同我们在一起,她会为我们引路的!”

11
The investigation

The story of my first enquiries in Hampshire is soon told. Not a single person in the village of Blackwater could remember exactly when Sir Percival Glyde had left. Even the gardener at the house could only say it was some time in the last ten days of July.

'So, on to the next plan,' I said to Marian back in London, 'which is to pursue the secret. I need to talk to Anne Catherick's mother, but first I must find out something about her from Mrs Clements, Anne's friend. But how do I find Mrs Clements?'

Marian had the answer to that. 'You remember the farm she and Anne stayed at near Limmeridge? We'll write to them — they might know Mrs Clements' address.'

We were lucky. The farmer's wife did know the address, and wrote back by return to tell us. It was in London, not far from our rooms, and the next morning I was knocking at the door.

Mrs Clements was anxious to know if I had brought her any news of Anne, and very sad to learn that I had not. However, she was willing to tell me everything she knew.

'After leaving Limmeridge, sir,' she said, 'Anne and I went to live in the northeast of England, and that's when Anne started to suffer from heart disease. She wasn't at all well, but she insisted on travelling to Hampshire, because she wanted to speak to Lady Glyde. So we went there and stayed in a village near Blackwater — not too close as Anne was so frightened of Sir Percival.

'Each time Anne went to the lake to try to speak to Lady Glyde, I followed her at a distance. But the long walks made her so exhausted that she became ill again, so finally I went to the lake in her place to meet Lady Glyde. She didn't come that day, but a very fat man came instead with a message from her. The message was that we should return to London immediately, as Sir Percival would certainly find us if we stayed longer. Lady Glyde was going to London herself very soon and if we sent her our address, she would contact us.'

'But she didn't, did she?' I said, thinking how cleverly Count Fosco had lied to this kind woman.

'No, sir. I found lodgings and sent the address to Lady Glyde, but after two weeks we'd still heard nothing. Then one day a lady called in a cab. She said she came from Lady Glyde, who was staying at a hotel and wanted to arrange an interview with Anne. I agreed to go with this lady to make the arrangement, leaving Anne alone in our lodgings. But it was a wicked plot, sir. On the way the lady stopped the cab, saying she just had to collect something from a shop and would I wait for a few minutes. She never came back, sir. I waited for some time, and then I hurried home — and found Anne gone. Just disappeared.'

I asked Mrs Clements to describe this 'lady', and it seemed clear from her description that it was Madame Fosco. So I now knew how the Count had got Anne Catherick to London and separated her from Mrs Clements.

'I never found out what happened to Anne,' Mrs Clements said sadly. 'I made enquiries. I even wrote to her mother, but she didn't know anything. I miss poor Anne so much. She was like a daughter to me, you see, sir.'

'And I'm sure you were a kind mother to her,' I said. 'A better mother than her own mother.'

'That wasn't difficult,' said Mrs Clements. 'Mrs Catherick is a hard woman. She seemed to hate the child, and was only too pleased when I offered to bring her up. Then one day she took Anne to Limmeridge to stay with a sister, and after that she kept Anne from me. I didn't see Anne again till she escaped from the asylum — with your help, sir. And then she was always talking about a secret her mother had which could ruin Sir Percival. But you know, sir, I don't think Anne really knew what this secret was. If she had known, I'm sure she would have told me.'

I had wondered about that myself, and now I tried to turn the conversation on to Mrs Catherick.

'Did you know Mrs Catherick before Anne was born?'

'Yes, for about four months. We were neighbours in Welmingham. Mr and Mrs Catherick had just got married, and Mr Catherick had a job as clerk at Welmingham church. Before that, Mrs Catherick had been a servant at a large house. She was a selfish, heartless woman, and treated her poor husband very badly. Before long, there was a lot of talk about her and a young gentleman, who was staying at a hotel nearby. And Mr Catherick told my husband that he'd found expensive presents, gold rings and suchlike, hidden in his wife's drawer.'

'And who was this gentleman?' I asked.

'You know him, sir. And so did my poor dear Anne.'

'Sir Percival Glyde?' My heart began to beat faster. Was I getting close to the secret?

'That's right. His father had recently died abroad, and Sir Percival had just arrived in the neighbourhood. People thought, you see, that maybe Mrs Catherick had known Sir Percival before, and had married Mr Catherick just to save her reputation, because of, well, you know... Anyway, one night Mr Catherick found his wife whispering with Sir Percival outside the vestry of the church. They had a fight, but Sir Percival beat him and Mr Catherick left the village, never to return again. And in spite of all the talk in the village, Mrs Catherick stayed. She said she was innocent and that no one would drive her away. But most people thought that the money she lived on came from Sir Percival.'

The secret was here somewhere. But where? That Sir Percival was Anne's father was hardly a secret since everyone already thought that. No, there was another mystery somewhere.

'And what did you think, Mrs Clements?'

'Well, sir, if you worked out time and place, it was obvious that Mr Catherick wasn't Anne's father. But Anne wasn't at all like Sir Percival; and nor was she like her mother.'

I wondered about the house where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Perhaps I would make some enquiries later.

'You've been very kind, Mrs Clements,' I said, 'answering all my questions. One last request. Will you tell me Mrs Catherick's address? I have to find out this secret, and only she can tell me.'

Mrs Clements gave me the address, but shook her head. 'Take care, sir. She's an awful woman. You don't know her as I do.'

*  *  *

Back at our rooms I announced my intention to Marian of going to Welmingham. She was very uneasy about the plan.

'Are you sure it's wise, Walter? Sir Percival is a violent man.'

'I'm more afraid for you and Laura,' I said, 'left alone in London, with the Count as your enemy.'

We arranged to write to each other every day; and if no letter came from her, I would take the first train back to London.

*  *  *

Three days later I was standing in Mrs Catherick's sitting room, face to face with a grey-haired woman, dressed in black silk. Her dark eyes looked straight at me with a hard, cold stare.

'You say you have come to speak to me about my daughter,' she said. 'Please say what you have to say.'

Her voice was as hard as the expression in her eyes. She pointed to a chair, and looked at me carefully as I sat down.

'You know,' I said, 'that your daughter is lost?'

'I know that perfectly well.'

'Don't you worry that she might not be just lost, but that she might have met with her death?'

'Yes. Have you come to tell me that she is dead?'

'I have.'

'Why?'

She asked that extraordinary question without the slightest change in her voice, face, or manner. I might have been talking about the death of a cat in the street.

'I thought Anne's mother might be interested in knowing if she was alive or dead.'

'Just so,' she said. 'But what is your interest in her, or in me? Have you no other reason for coming here?'

'Yes, I do,' I said. 'Your daughter's death has caused someone I love to be harmed — by a man called Sir Percival Glyde.'

She did not react at all at the mention of his name.

'I want to make him confess to his crime. You know certain things about him from the time when your husband was the church clerk. I want you to tell me about them.'

At last I saw the anger burning in her eyes.

'What do you know about those events?'

'Everything that Mrs Clements could tell me.'

'Mrs Clements is a foolish woman.' She bit back her anger, and her lips curled in an unpleasant little smile. 'Ah, I begin to understand. You want your revenge on Sir Percival Glyde, and you want my help. That's why you've come here. Well, you don't know me. I've spent years getting back my reputation in this village. Now everyone respects me. I won't help you.'

'If you're afraid of Sir Percival, that's quite understandable,' I said. 'He's a powerful man, and comes from a great family —'

To my amazement, she suddenly burst out laughing.

'From a great family! Yes, indeed! Especially from his mother's side,' she said with disgust.

Whatever did she mean by that, I wondered?

'The secret between you and Sir Percival was not guilty love,' I insisted. 'It was something else that brought you and him to those stolen meetings outside the vestry of the church.'

As I said the words 'vestry of the church', I saw a wave of terror pass across her face.

'Go!' she said. 'And never come back. Unless' — and she gave a slow, cruel smile — 'unless you bring news of his death.'

*  *  *

It was now late, and I made my way to the nearest hotel. There was much to think about. Why should mention of the church vestry cause terror? Why the disgust at Sir Percival's family, especially his mother? Was there something unusual about his parents' marriage? Perhaps the local marriage register was kept in the vestry of Welmingham church...

The next day I went to the church. I had been aware of being followed the previous evening, and now I caught sight of the same two men I had seen outside Mr Kyrle's office in London. It seemed that Sir Percival had expected me to visit Mrs Catherick, and was now expecting me to visit Welmingham church — proof, surely, that my investigation was going in the right direction.

I found the church clerk, who fetched his keys and took me to the vestry. It could only be entered from the outside of the church, and the clerk had great difficulty opening the lock, which was very old. Once inside, I asked to see the marriage register. It was kept in a cupboard which could easily be forced open.

'Is that a safe enough place to keep the register?' I said.

'Safe enough,' the clerk said. 'A copy is kept by a lawyer in the next village — Mr Wansborough's office in Knowlesbury.'

I worked backwards in the register from Sir Percival's year of birth and there, under September of the previous year, squashed into a small space at the bottom of the page, was the record of the marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster of Knowlesbury. Just the usual information. Nothing apparently peculiar about Sir Percival's mother. The secret seemed further away than ever.

But on to Knowlesbury, and Mr Wansborough's office — a five-mile walk, but possible to get there and back by the end of the day. It was worth checking the copy of the register, and perhaps the lawyer would know something that might be useful.


pursue v. continue to investigate 继续调查

lodgings n. rooms rented for lodging in 租用的房子

bring up raise 抚养

heartless adj. unfeeling, pitiless 无情的

vestry n. a room or building attached to a church for keeping vestments in 教堂的法衣室

react v. undergo a change or show behaviour due to some influence 反应

bite back restrain 克制

burst out suddenly begin 突然做……

disgust n. strong aversion 不屑

make one's way to go to 到……去

catch sight of see, find 看到

11.调查

下面是我在汉普郡初步调查的情况。布莱克沃特村没有一个人记得珀西瓦尔爵士离开的确切时间。园丁也仅仅记得大概是7月下旬。

“那么,开始下一步行动吧,”回到伦敦我对玛丽安说,“查出那个秘密来。我需要找到安妮·凯瑟里克的母亲,但我必须首先找到安妮的朋友克莱门茨太太,从她那里了解一些情况。可怎么才能找到克莱门茨太太?”

玛丽安想出了办法:“还记得克莱门茨太太和安妮在利默里奇附近住过的农场吗?我们给他们写信,也许他们知道克莱门茨太太的地址。”

我们很幸运,农场主的妻子真的知道地址,她回信告诉了我们。她就住在伦敦,离我们住的地方不远。第二天上午,我就找到了那个地方,敲响了房门。

克莱门茨太太急切地想知道我是否带来了安妮的消息,当我告诉她没有的时候,她非常难过。不过,她愿意把她知道的一切都告诉我。

“离开利默里奇以后,先生,”她对我说,“安妮和我去了英国东北部,这个时候安妮得了心脏病。她身体很不好,但她坚持到汉普郡去见格莱德夫人。所以我们就去了那儿,住在布莱克沃特附近的一个村子里——那地方离布莱克沃特不是很近,因为安妮非常害怕珀西瓦尔爵士。

“每一次安妮到湖边去见格莱德夫人,我都在远处跟着她。但是走那么远的路让她非常疲劳,结果她又病了。最后我代替她到湖边去见格莱德夫人。那天格莱德夫人没有来,来的是一个很胖的男人,他捎来了格莱德夫人的口信,让我们赶快回伦敦,因为如果在这里呆久了,珀西瓦尔爵士肯定会发现我们。格莱德夫人自己很快也会到伦敦去,如果我们把地址给她,她会跟我们联系。”

“但是她没跟你们联系,对吗?”我问,心想伯爵对这个善良的女人说的谎真是高明啊。

“没错,先生。我找到了住处,把地址寄给了格莱德夫人,可是两个星期过去了,我们没收到任何回音。后来,有一天一位夫人乘马车到这里来。她说她从格莱德夫人那儿来,格莱德夫人住在一家旅店,想安排同安妮见面。我答应同那位夫人去安排见面的事,把安妮一个人留在住处。可这是个恶毒的阴谋,先生。走到半路,那位夫人说要去商店取点儿东西,让我等几分钟。她去了就再没回来,先生。我等了好一阵子,然后赶忙回家——回来后却发现安妮不见了。就这么消失了。”

我让克莱门茨太太描述一下那位“夫人”的样子,根据她的描述,那人很显然是福斯科夫人。现在我明白伯爵是怎么把安妮·凯瑟里克弄到伦敦,又怎么把她和克莱门茨太太分开的了。

“我不知道安妮到底出了什么事,”克莱门茨太太伤心地说,“我调查过,甚至给她母亲写过信,但是她什么也不知道。我现在非常想念可怜的安妮。你知道,她就像我的女儿一样,先生。”

“我相信你是她的好母亲,”我说,“比她的亲生母亲还要亲。”

“那倒没什么难的,”克莱门茨太太说,“凯瑟里克太太是一个铁石心肠的女人。她好像仇视这个孩子,我提出抚养这孩子时,她非常高兴。后来有一天她把安妮带到利默里奇同她的妹妹住在一起。再后来,她就不让我见安妮了。安妮从精神病院逃出来之前,我就再没见到过她。她逃出来还是你帮的忙呢,先生。从那以后,她—直说她母亲知道一个秘密,那秘密会毁了珀西瓦尔爵士。但是,先生,我觉得安妮并不真的知道那个秘密。如果她真的知道,我相信她早就告诉我了。”

我自己也想过这个问题。但是,现在我努力把话题转向凯瑟里克太太。

“安妮出生前,你就认识凯瑟里克太太吗?”

“认识,大概有四个月的时间。我们在韦明翰是邻居。当时凯瑟里克夫妇刚刚结婚,凯瑟里克先生在韦明翰教堂当职员。结婚前,凯瑟里克太太在一个大户人家当仆人。她是一个自私、狠心的女人,对她可怜的丈夫非常不好。不久,关于她和住在附近旅店的一个年轻人有了很多风言风语。凯瑟里克先生对我丈夫说,他发现他妻子的抽屉里藏着许多贵重礼物,金戒指什么的。”

“那个年轻人是谁?”我问。

“你认识他,先生。我可怜的安妮也认识他。”

“珀西瓦尔爵士?”我的心跳开始加速。我是不是接近那个秘密了?

“就是他。他父亲那时在国外去世,珀西瓦尔爵士刚刚到这里来。大家都说很可能凯瑟里克太太早就认识珀西瓦尔爵士,她和凯瑟里克先生结婚就是想挽救自己的名声,因为,嗯,你知道……不管怎样,一天晚上,凯瑟里克先生看到他妻子和珀西瓦尔爵士在教堂的法衣室外窃窃私语。他们打了起来。珀西瓦尔爵士打了他。之后,凯瑟里克先生就离开了那个村子,再也没回来。尽管村子里流言满天飞,凯瑟里克太太还是一直住在那里。”她说自己是清白的,谁也赶不走她。不过大多数人都认为她是靠珀西瓦尔爵士的钱维持生活的。”

秘密就在这里。可是到底是什么呢?珀西瓦尔爵士是安妮的父亲,这已经不是什么秘密了,大家早就这么想了。不对,这里一定还有隐情。

“那你怎么看,克莱门茨太太?”

“嗯,如果从时间和地点来看,很明显凯瑟里克先生不是安妮的父亲。但是,安妮一点儿也不像珀西瓦尔爵士,也不像她母亲。”

我想到凯瑟里克太太当仆人的那家,也许什么时候我可以到那儿调查一下。

“真是太谢谢了,克莱门茨太太,”我说,“你回答了我那么多问题。最后我还有个请求,你能告诉我凯瑟里克太太的地址吗?我必须查清楚这个秘密,只有她可以告诉我。”

克莱门茨太太把地址给了我,但是摇了摇头,“你要小心,先生。她是一个很可怕的女人,你没有我了解她。”

*  *  *

回到住处,我把要去韦明翰的想法告诉了玛丽安,她非常担优。

“你觉得这样好吗,沃尔特?珀西瓦尔爵士是个心狠手辣的人。”

“我更担心的是你和劳拉,”我说,“就你们两个留在伦敦,还要对付伯爵。”

我们商量好每天都互相写信,如果没有收到玛丽安的来信,我就搭乘最早的一班火车回伦敦来。

*  *  *

三天后,我已经站在凯瑟里克太太的客厅里了。我面前是一个头发灰白的女人,穿着黑色绸衣。她的一双黑眼睛冷冷地盯着我。

“你说你来跟我谈我女儿的事,”她开口说,“有什么话就请讲吧。”

她的声音像她的眼神一样冷。她指了指一把椅子,我坐下以后,她开始仔细地打量我。

“你知道,”我说,“你女儿失踪了吗?”

“我非常清楚。”

“难道你不担心她可能不光是失踪了,有可能她已经死了?”

“我想过。那你是来告诉我,她已经死了?”

“是的。”

“为什么?”

提出这样荒谬的问题,她的声音、表情和举止居然没有任何变化,就好像我刚才谈的是街上死了一只猫。

“我原以为安妮的母亲会关心她的生死。”

“就为了这个啊,”她说,“但是你为什么对她或我感兴趣呢?你到这里来没有其他原因?”

“有,”我回答,“你女儿的死使我所爱的人受到了伤害——是一个叫珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士的人干的。”

我提到了珀西瓦尔的名字,她一点儿反应都没有。

“我要让他承认他所犯下的罪行,你丈夫在教堂当职员的时候,你就知道了他的一些事,我希望你把所知道的告诉我。”

我终于在她眼里看到了愤怒的目光。

“你是怎么知道这些事的?”

“克莱门茨太太把她知道的都告诉我了。”

“克莱门茨太太是个愚蠢的女人。”她压下怒火,双唇勾起一丝恶意的微笑。“呵,我开始懂了。要向珀西瓦尔爵士报仇,需要帮忙。这就是你来这里的原因。你不了解我。我在这个村子住了这么多年,才挽回我的名誉。现在大家都很尊敬我,我不会帮你的。”

“如果你害怕珀西瓦尔爵士,那是可以理解的,”我说,“他是个有权势的人,出身名门——”

令我吃惊的是,她突然大笑起来。

“出身名门!是,没错!尤其是他母亲那一边。”她不屑地说。

她这话是什么意思?我不明白。

“你和他之间的秘密不是什么婚外情,”我接着说,“是别的事情使得你们在教堂的法衣室外秘密见面。”

在提到“教堂的法衣室”时,我注意到她的脸上掠过一阵恐惧。

“滚出去!”她大声喊着,“再也不要回来。除非”——她脸上慢慢露出残忍的笑意——“除非你来告诉我他死了。”

*  *  *

天色已晚,我朝最近的旅店走去。有许多问题需要思考。为什么提到教堂的法衣室她就害怕了?为什么她瞧不起珀西瓦尔爵士的家庭,特别是他的母亲?难道他父母的婚姻有什么特别的地方?也许当地的婚姻登记记录就存放在韦明翰教堂的法衣室……

第二天我去了教堂。我已经注意到前一天晚上有人跟踪我,这会儿我又看到在伦敦克尔先生办公室外见到的那两个人在跟着我。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士已经料到我要来见凯瑟里克太太,现在又料到我来韦明翰教堂——这些恰好证明我的调查方向是正确的。

我找到了教堂职员,他找来钥匙,带我来到教堂的法衣室。法衣室只能从教堂外面进去,职员费了好大劲儿才打开那把旧锁。进去以后,我说要看看婚姻登记记录。那些记录放在一个柜子里,柜子的门很容易被撬开。

“婚姻登记记录放在这里安全吗?”我问。

“很安全,”职员回答,“另一个副本存放在邻村的律师那里,就是万斯伯勒先生的办公室,在诺雷斯伯里。”

我从珀西瓦尔爵士出生那年的记录开始往前面查,在前一年的9月,有一页在靠下的角落里记着费利克斯·格莱德爵士和诺雷斯伯里的塞西莉亚结婚。只是非常一般的记录,看不出珀西瓦尔爵士的母亲有什么特殊的地方。秘密好像比以前离我更远了。

接下来,我奔赴诺雷斯伯里万斯伯勒先生的办公室——大约有5英里的路程,但是在天黑前赶回来还是可能的。很有必要查看一下记录的副本,也许律师会知道一些有用的信息。

12
The secret

Sir Percival's spies attacked me on the road to Knowlesbury. One of them came up beside me, and bumped into me with his shoulder. I pushed him away, hard, and he immediately shouted for help. The other man ran up and the two of them held me between them. The first man accused me of attacking him, and they said they would take me to the police station in the town.

What could I do? I couldn't fight both of them and hope to get away, so I had to go with them.

At the police station the first man accused me of a violent attack, and the second man said he was a witness. I was locked up until the next magistrate's court, which was three days away. I could be released on bail, I was told, but how could I, a total stranger in the town, find a responsible person willing to pay money for my temporary freedom? The whole plan was now clear — to get me out of the way for three days, while Sir Percival did whatever was necessary to prevent his secret being discovered.

At first I was too angry to think clearly. Then I remembered Mr Dawson, the doctor. I had been to his house on my previous visit to Blackwater, so I knew his address. I wrote him a letter, explaining what had happened and begging for his help, and then asked for a messenger to deliver it. Two hours later the good doctor appeared, paid the required money and I was set free.

There was no time to lose. The news of my being free would doubtless reach Sir Percival within hours. I hurried to the lawyer's office, where I asked if I could see the copy of the Welmingham marriage register. Mr Wansborough was a pleasant man and agreed to show me the copy. In fact, he was quite amused. No one had asked to see it since his father (now dead) had locked it away in the office more than twenty years before.

As I opened the register, my hands trembled. I turned the pages to the year and month. I found the names I remembered just before, and just after, the marriage of Sir Percival's parents. And between these entries, at the bottom of the page...?

Nothing! The marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster was not there! I looked again, to be sure. No, nothing. Not a doubt about it. Sir Percival must have seen the space in the Welmingham register and written in the marriage himself.

I had never once suspected this. He was not Sir Percival Glyde at all! His parents had not been married, so he had no right to the inheritance of Blackwater Park, no right to the rank of Baronet, no right even to the name of Glyde! This was his secret — and it was now mine to use against him!

The copy of the register would be safe enough in the lawyer's office, but I decided to go back to Welmingham and make a copy of the false record from the church register. It was dark now and I ran all the way to the church clerk's house. I knocked on his door, but when he appeared, he looked suspicious and confused.

'Where are the keys?' he asked. 'Have you taken them?'

'What keys do you mean?' I said. 'I've just this minute arrived from Knowlesbury.'

'The keys of the vestry,' he said. 'The keys are gone! Someone's broken in and taken the keys.'

'Get a light,' I said, 'and let's go to the vestry. Quick!'

We ran to the church. On the path we passed a man who looked at us with frightened eyes. He seemed to be a servant of some kind. We did not stop to question him, but ran on.

As we came in sight of the vestry, I saw a high window brilliantly lit from within. There was a strange smell on the night air, a sound of cracking wood, and the light grew brighter and brighter. I ran to the door and put my hand on it. The vestry was on fire!

I heard the key working violently in the lock — I heard a man's voice behind the door, raised in terror, screaming for help.

'Oh, my God!' said the servant, who had followed us, 'it's Sir Percival!'

'God help him!' said the clerk. 'He's damaged the lock.'

*  *  *

At that moment I forget the man's crimes and see only the horror of his situation. Several people are now running towards the church and I call to them to help me break down the door. We look desperately for something to use, and at last someone finds a long heavy piece of wood.

By now the flames are shooting up out of the window, and the screams have stopped. We get the wood into position and run at the door with it. Again, and again! At last the door crashes down, but a wave of heat hits our faces and drives us back — and in the room we see nothing but a sheet of living fire.

*  *  *

The church itself was saved as the fire engine arrived soon afterwards and managed to put out the fire before it spread. They carried out the body of Sir Percival Glyde and laid it on the wet ground. I looked down on his dead face and this was how, for the first and last time, I saw him.

He must have heard that I was free and on my way back to Welmingham, so he hurried to the church, stealing the keys and locking himself in to prevent anyone coming in and finding him. All he could do was tear the page out of the register and destroy it. If the false record no longer existed, I could produce no evidence to threaten him with. He must have dropped his lamp by accident, which started the fire. Then in his urgency to get out, the lock had become damaged and the key unmoveable.

I could not leave the town. There would be a legal enquiry into the accident the next day, which I had to attend, and in any case I had to report back to the police station in Knowlesbury. I returned to the hotel and wrote to Marian, telling her everything that had happened and warning her to keep the news from Laura for the moment. With Sir Percival's death, my hopes of establishing Laura's identity had also died, and I could see no way forward at present.

The next day an envelope with my name on was delivered to the hotel. The letter inside was neither dated nor signed, but before I had read the first sentence, I knew who had written it — Mrs Catherick.


Sir — I thought you were my enemy. Now that he is dead, because of you, I consider you my friend. To thank you for what you have done, I will now tell you the things you wanted to know about my private life.

Twenty-three years ago I was a beautiful young woman living in Welmingham, married to a fool of a husband. I also knew a gentleman — I shall not call him by his name. Why should I? It was not his own. I was born with expensive tastes. This man gave me expensive presents. Naturally he wanted something in return — all men do. And what did he want? Just a little thing. The key to the church vestry, when my husband's back was turned. I liked my presents, so I got him the key. I watched him in the vestry without his knowing, and saw what he was doing. I did not know then how serious a crime it was. I said I would not tell anyone about the marriage he had added to the register if he told me about his private life. He agreed — why, you will see in a moment.

He said that he only found out that his parents were not married after his mother's death. His father confessed to it and promised to do what he could for his son. But he died having done nothing. The son came to England and took possession of the property. There was no one to say he could not. In fact, the right person to claim the property was a distant relation away at sea. However, to borrow money on the property, he needed a certificate of his parents' marriage. This was a problem — a problem which brought him to Welmingham.

As his parents had mostly lived abroad and had had no social life in England, who was to say (the priest being dead) that a private marriage had not taken place at Welmingham church? His plan was to tear out a page from the marriage register in the year before his birth and destroy it. Then he would tell his lawyers in London to get the necessary certificate, innocently referring them to the date on the page that was gone. At least no one could say that his parents were not married.

However, when he saw there was a small space at the bottom of the page in the right year, he changed his plan and took the opportunity to write in the marriage himself. It took him some time, though, to practise the handwriting and to mix the right colour of ink, so that it looked the same.

After my husband caught me talking secretly to him and after their fight together, I asked my fine gentleman to clear my name and to say there had been nothing between us. But he refused. He wanted everyone to believe something false, so that they would never suspect the truth. He then told me that the punishment for his crime, and anyone who helped him, was life in prison. He frightened me! If I spoke out, I was just as lost as he was. He then agreed to make me a yearly payment if I said nothing and stayed in Welmingham, where he could always find me and where there was no danger of my making friends and talking. This was hard, but I accepted.

Many years later, when my daughter was with me at home, I received a letter from him which made me very angry. I lost control of myself and said, in her presence, that 'I could destroy him if I let out his secret'. Then one day he came to our house and called her a fool. Immediately she shouted, 'Ask for my pardon, now, or I'll let out your secret and destroy your life. 'My own words! He went white. Then he swore at us. It ended, as you know, by his shutting her up in an asylum. I tried to tell him she knew nothing. But he did not believe me. My daughter knew that she had frightened him and that he was responsible for shutting her up because he believed she knew his secret. That's why she hated him. But she never to her dying day knew what his secret actually was.

I will end by saying that you insult me if you think my husband was not my daughter's father. Please do not ask further questions about that. To protect myself, I mention no names in this letter, nor do I sign it.


magistrate n. an official conducting a court for minor cases 法官

bail n. money left with a court of law to prove that a prisoner will return when their trial starts 保释金

entry n. an item 条目

brilliantly adv. very brightly 非常亮

produce v. bring forward for consideration or inspection 拿出

12.秘密

在去往诺雷斯伯里的路上,珀西瓦尔爵士的人向我发起了攻击。其中一个走到我旁边,用肩膀撞我。我用力把他推开,他马上大喊起来。另一个人跑过来,他们两个把我夹在了中间。第一个人指责我打他,他们说要把我带到镇上的警察局去。

我能怎么办呢?我没办法打倒他们两个再逃走,现在只得跟他们走了。

到了警察局,第一个人说我打他,另一个人说他是证人。我被关了起来,等着三天后法官开庭审理。他们告诉我可以保释,可是我在这里一个人也不认识,怎么可能找到一个愿意负责的人出钱让我获得暂时的自由呢?他们的整个计划很清楚——让我消失三天,珀西瓦尔爵士就利用这段时间尽一切可能保证他的秘密不被发现。

刚开始,我非常气愤,头脑中一片混乱。后来我想起了道森先生,那位医生。上一次我去布莱克沃特的时候到过他家,所以我知道他的地址。我给他写了封信,告诉他出了什么事,请求他来帮我,然后找了一个送信的帮我把信送走。两个小时后,好心的医生来了,为我交了保释金,我自由了。

必须抓紧时间,因为我被释放的消息肯定几个小时之内就会传到珀西瓦尔爵士那里。我赶到律师的办公室,请求看一下韦明翰的结婚登记记录。万斯伯勒先生是个和气的人,他同意让我看副本。其实,应该说他很高兴,因为自从他父亲(现在已经去世了)20多年前把文件锁在办公室后,从未有人要求查看过。

我翻开记录副本的时候双手在颤抖。我找到了珀西瓦尔爵士父母结婚的年份和月份,以及在他们之前和之后结婚的男女方姓名记录。但是,在这些条目之间,在那一页的底下……?

什么也没有!费利克斯·格莱德爵士和塞西莉亚·埃尔斯特的婚姻根本就没有记录!为了保险起见,我又看了一遍。没有,什么也没有,毫无疑问。珀西瓦尔爵士可能在韦明翰的记录中看到了那个空白,然后自己填上了那条记录。

我从未怀疑到这一点。他根本就不是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士,他的父母没有结婚,他根本没有权利继承布莱克沃特庄园和爵位,甚至根本无权姓格莱德!这就是他的秘密——现在我要利用这个秘密来对付他!

婚姻登记的副本放在律师的办公室很安全,我决定返回韦明翰,复制一份教堂的假记录。天已经黑了,我一路跑到教堂职员的住处。我敲了门,职员出来的时候,脸上布满了疑虑。

“钥匙在哪儿?”他问我,“你把钥匙拿走了吗?”

“什么钥匙?”我说,“我刚从诺雷斯伯里过来。”

“法衣室的钥匙,”他说,“钥匙不见了!有人进来偷走了钥匙。”

“拿上灯,”我说,“我们去法衣室,快!”

我们向教堂跑去。路上碰见一个人,似乎是个仆人,他惊慌地看了看我们。我们没有停下来问他任何问题,而是继续向前跑。

当我们看到法衣室的时候,我发现从一个高处的窗户里发出很亮的光,夜晚的空气中有一股奇怪的味道,可以听到木头劈啪作响的声音,那光变得越来越亮。我跑到法衣室的门口,用手摸了摸门。法衣室起火了!

我听到钥匙在锁里使劲转动的声音——我听到门后有人害怕地高声喊救命。

“噢,上帝!”跟着我们跑过来的仆人说,“是珀西瓦尔爵士!”

“上帝啊,救救他!”职员说,“他把锁弄坏了。”

alt

*  *  *

这个时候,我忘记了这个人的罪恶,只想到他现在的危急处境。有几个人正朝教堂跑过来,我叫他们帮我把门弄开。我们到处找能弄开门的东西,最后有人找来一根很粗的长木头。

这时,火焰已经窜出了窗户,呼叫声已听不见了。我们抬着长木头,一次又一次朝门撞过去。最后门被撞倒了,热浪从屋里冲出来,使我们不得不往后退去——屋里除了一团火什么也看不见。

*  *  *

救火车很快赶到,没等火势蔓延就把火扑灭了,教堂本身没有受到破坏。人们把珀西瓦尔爵士的尸体抬了出来,放在潮湿的地上。我看了看他的脸,这是我第一次也是最后一次看到他。

他一定是听说我被放出来,而且正赶回韦明翰,所以急忙赶到教堂,偷了钥匙,把自己锁在屋子里,不让任何人进去发现他。他唯一能做的就是把那一页从登记簿上撕下来销毁。如果假记录没有了,我就拿不出证据来威胁他。他可能不小心把灯掉到地上,引起了大火。然后,他急着要出来,匆忙中弄坏了锁,钥匙转不动了。

我现在还不能离开这里。转天会有一个事故的法律调查,我必须参加。而且不管怎样,我还得向诺雷斯伯里的警察局报到。我回到旅店,写信给玛丽安,告诉她这里发生的事情,提醒她先不要把这个消息告诉劳拉。珀西瓦尔爵士死了,我证明劳拉身份的希望也不复存在,现在我不知下一步该怎么办。

第二天,一个写着我名字的信封被送到了旅店。里面的信既没有日期,也没有署名。但是还没看完第一句,我就知道是谁写的信了——凯瑟里克太太。

先生——我原以为你是我的敌人。现在因为你,他已经死了,我认为你是我的朋友。为感谢你的所作所为,我现在把你想知道的我的私事告诉你。

23年前,我是一个年轻漂亮的姑娘,住在韦明翰,嫁给了一位傻乎乎的丈夫。我还结识了一位绅士——我不会称呼他的名字。为什么要那样叫他?那不是他的名字。我生来就喜欢贵重的东西,这个人送给我许多贵重礼物,当然他是需要回报的——男人都是这样。这个男人要的是什么?很简单的一样东西。教堂法衣室的钥匙,当然要趁我丈夫不在的时候。我喜欢那些礼物,所以给他弄到了钥匙。我盯着他,看他在法衣室干什么,他并没发觉。当时我不知道那是多么严重的罪行。我跟他说,要是他告诉我他的私事,我不会告诉任何人他擅自增加结婚记录的事。他答应了——至于为什么,你往下看就明白了。

他说在他母亲死后,他才知道他的父母并没有结婚。他父亲承认了这件事,答应尽力为他儿子做些什么。可是他什么都没来得及做,就死去了。他的儿子来到英国继承了遗产。没人说他不能继承,实际上,真正应该继承遗产的是一个正在出海的远亲。然而,要想用那笔财产去借钱,他需要一份父母的结婚证明。这是个问题,为解决这个问题,他来到了韦明翰。

因为他父母大部分时间生活在国外,在英国没什么交际,所以谁会说(牧师已经死了)韦明翰教堂没举行过一场私下的婚礼呢?他的计划是把他出生前那一年的婚姻登记页撕下来销毁。然后,他就会告诉伦敦的律师们去取必要的证明文件,并假装不知情地把那个已经不存在的登记页上的日期告诉他们。至少谁也不会说他父母没结婚。

但是,他发现那年的登记页上靠下面有一点空白,于是改变了主意,趁机把他父母的婚姻写了进去。当然,他也颇费了些时间去模仿登记用的笔迹,还有配制合适的墨水颜色,让这条记录看起来跟其他的没有差别。

我丈夫看到我和他密谈,他们两个打了一架以后,我叫他帮我洗清名声,告诉别人我们之间什么也没发生,但是他拒绝了。他希望大家都相信并没有发生的事情,这样一来,人们就不会去想真相如何了。他还跟我说如果他的罪行败露,他以及帮过他的人都将被终生监禁。他让我害怕极了!如果我说出他的秘密,那我和他都完了。他答应每年支付我一笔钱,条件是我保持沉默,继续住在韦明翰,让他随时可以找到我,也免得我与人交朋友,然后乱讲话。虽说条件很苛刻,我还是答应了。

很多年以后,那时我女儿同我在一起,我收到他的一封信把我惹恼了。我无法控制自己,当着女儿的面说:“我把他的秘密说出去就能毁了他。”后来有一天,他来我家,管我女儿叫傻瓜,她一下子喊了起来:“赶快请求我原谅你,不然我就把你的秘密说出去,毁了你。”完全是我说过的话!他的脸一下子变白了。他向我们破口大骂。最后,你知道,他把她关进了精神病院。我试图告诉他,她什么也不知道。可是他不相信我。我女儿明白她使他害怕了,是他把她关进了精神病院,因为他认为她知道了他的秘密。这就是为什么她那么恨他。但是,她其实到死也不知道那秘密到底是什么。

最后我要说的是,如果你认为我丈夫不是我女儿的父亲,你就是污辱我。请不要多问了。为了保护我自己,信中没有提到任何名字,我也不会署名。

13
The threat

Mrs Catherick's extraordinary and shameless letter filled me with disgust. My interest in Sir Percival Glyde's crime was now at an end, but I decided to keep the letter in case it might help me find out who Anne's father really was.

Later in the morning I went to the legal enquiry into Sir Percival's death. I was only asked to say what had happened. I was not asked how I thought the keys had been taken, how the fire had been caused, or why Sir Percival had gone into the vestry. As no one could explain any of these things, the verdict at the end of the enquiry was 'death by accident'.

Afterwards, a gentleman who was also at the enquiry walked back to the hotel with me. He had heard from Sir Percival's lawyer that a distant relation abroad would now inherit Blackwater Park. This was obviously the person who should have inherited it twenty-three years before. If I made Sir Percival's crime public, it would be to no one's advantage now. If I kept the secret, the true character of the man who had cheated Laura into marrying him would remain hidden. And for her sake, I wished to keep it hidden.

I still could not leave Hampshire, as I had to report to the police station in Knowlesbury the next day. I spent another night at the hotel and in the morning went to the post office to collect the letter from Marian. As promised, we had written to each other every day, and Marian's letters had been full of cheerful news. This morning's letter was short, and terrified me.


Come back as soon as you can. We have had to move. Come to Gower's Walk, Fulham (number five). I will look out for you. Don't be alarmed about us, we are both safe and well. But come back. — Marian


What had happened? What dreadful thing had Count Fosco done while I was away? In spite of my anxiety, I had to wait. I paid my bill at the hotel and took a cab to Knowlesbury.

At the police station, as I expected, no one appeared to continue the action against me and I was allowed to go. Half an hour later I was on the train back to London.

I got to Gower's Walk in Fulham at about nine o'clock. Both Laura and Marian came to the door to let me in. Laura was much brighter and happier, full of plans for the future and for her drawing and painting. Marian's face was tired and anxious. I could see that she had spared Laura the knowledge of the terrible death in Welmingham and the true reason for moving to new lodgings. When Laura had left us and we could speak freely, I tried to give some expression to my feelings and told Marian how much I admired her for the courage and love she had shown.

She was too generous to listen to me, and turned the conversation to my worries.

'I'm so sorry for my letter — it must have alarmed you.'

'Yes, it did,' I admitted. 'Was I right in thinking that you moved because of a threat by Count Fosco?'

'Perfectly right,' she said. 'I saw him yesterday, and worse than that, Walter — I spoke to him.'

'Spoke to him? Did he come to the house?'

'He did. Yesterday, when I was passing the window, I saw him in the street. Then there was a knock on the door. I rushed out and there he was, dressed in black, with his smooth face and his deadly smile. I closed the door behind me so that Laura would not see or hear him.'

'What did he say?' I asked anxiously.

'He greeted me, then repeated the warning in his letter to me. He said he had not been able to prevent Sir Percival's violence towards you, and he had found out our address in order to protect his own interests. You were followed, Walter, on your return home after your first journey to Hampshire. He used this information only when he heard of Sir Percival's death, because he believed you would act against him next.'

'And he was right,' I said. 'What did he say about me?'

'He was very cool, very polite, and very threatening,' said Marian. 'He said, "Warn Mr Hartright! He has an intelligent and powerful man to deal with. Let him be content with what he has got. Say to him, if he attacks me, I will use all my power to destroy him. There is nothing I will not do. Dear lady, good morning." Then he just looked at me with his cold grey eyes, and walked away.

'I ran back inside, and told Laura we had to move. We needed a quieter neighbourhood with better air for the sake of her health. I said you'd wanted us to do that, and why didn't we do it now to surprise you when you got back. She liked that idea, and was quite happy to move. I found these lodgings through an old school friend. I did the right thing, didn't I, Walter?'

I answered her warmly and gratefully, as I really felt.

But the anxious look remained on her face, and I saw in her eyes her continuing fear of the Count's cleverness and energy.

'What do you think of his message, Walter? What do you plan to do next?'

'I decided weeks ago that Laura will be received in her uncle's house again,' I answered. 'And my decision remains the same. Count Fosco will answer for his crime to ME.'

Marian's eyes lit up. She said nothing, but I could see how strongly she supported this plan.

'I know the risks are great,' I said, 'but it must be done. I'm not foolish enough to try this before I'm well prepared. I can wait. Let him think his message has produced its effect. He will start to feel safe. Also, my position towards you and Laura ought to be a stronger one than it is now.'

'How can it be stronger?' she asked, surprised.

'Marian, I would like you to say to Laura, gently, that her husband is dead.'

'Oh, Walter, so soon? You have a reason for this, don't you?'

'Yes. I cannot speak to Laura yet. But one day, not too distant, I want to tell her that I love her.'

Marian looked at me for a time, then gave a sad, gentle smile. 'Yes, I understand. I think I owe it to her and to you, Walter, to tell her of her husband's death.'

The next day Laura knew that death had released her from her marriage, and her husband's name was never mentioned among us again.

*  *  *

Our life returned to its usual pattern, but I did not forget the Count. I discovered that he had rented his house in St John's Wood for another six months, so I was fairly sure he would still be in London, within my reach, when the time came to act.

We finally solved the puzzle of who Anne Catherick's father was. When I went again to see Mrs Clements and to tell her about Anne's death, she remembered where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Her employer had been a Mr Donthorne.

We wrote to Mr Donthorne, who replied with some very interesting information. Philip Fairlie, Laura's father, had been a great friend of his when they were young, and a frequent house guest. He was a handsome man and fond of female company. Mr Donthorne was fairly certain that Philip Fairlie had been staying at his house when Mrs Catherick was employed as a servant, in the year before Anne was born.

When Marian and I checked the dates; when we considered that Anne and Laura looked so alike; and when we took into account the fact that Laura looked very much like her father, we were in no doubt that here was the solution. Philip Fairlie was Anne's father, and so Anne was Laura's half-sister.

Now, at last, the woman in white, that strange sad shadow walking in the loneliness of the night, could rest in peace.

*  *  *

Four months passed. Laura grew stronger in body and in mind. She was almost her old self, and when we talked, it was as we used to talk at Limmeridge. If I touched her by accident, I felt my heart beating fast, and I saw the answering colour in her face.

In April, we went for a holiday at the seaside. While we were there I told Marian that when we returned to London, I was determined to force a confession from Count Fosco — to make him tell me the real date of Laura's journey to London.

'But if I am to challenge the Count, for Laura's safety, I think I should challenge him as her husband. Do you agree, Marian?'

'With every word,' she said. 'I parted you both once. Wait here, my brother, my best and dearest friend! Till Laura comes, and tells you what I have done now!'

She kissed my forehead and left the room. I waited by the window, staring out at the beach, seeing nothing, hardly able to breathe. The door opened, and Laura came in alone. When we parted at Limmeridge, she had come into the room slowly, in sorrow and hesitation. Now she ran to me, with the light of happiness shining in her face. She put her arms around me, and her sweet lips came to meet mine.

'My darling!' she whispered, 'May we say we love each other now? Oh, I am so happy at last!'

Ten days later we were even happier. We were married.


verdict n. a decision; a judgment 结论

spare somebody the knowledge of keeping somebody from knowing 不让某人知道……

deadly adj. horrible 可怕的

answer for be responsible 受到惩罚

fairly adv. to a noticeable degree 相当地

13.威胁

凯瑟里克太太奇怪而又不知羞耻的来信使我对她充满了鄙夷。现在,我对珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行已经没有兴趣了,但我还是决定留着这封信,也许它会帮我找出安妮的父亲究竟是谁。

上午晚些时候,我去参加珀西瓦尔爵士死亡的法律调查。他们只让我说说发生了什么,没有问我如何看待钥匙为什么会被拿走,火灾是怎么发生的,或者为什么珀西瓦尔爵士会进到法衣室去。没有人能够解释这些问题,所以调查的最终结论是“意外死亡”。

之后,一位也参加了调查的男子和我一起走回旅店。他从珀西瓦尔爵士的律师那里得知,一个国外的远亲现在要来继承布莱克沃特庄园。很明显,这就是23年前应该继承庄园的那个人。假如我把珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行公之于众,现在对谁都没有好处。假如我不把秘密说出去,这个欺骗劳拉与之结婚的人的真正人品就不会有人知道。但为了劳拉,我愿意保守这个秘密。

我还不能离开汉普郡,因为转天还要去诺雷斯伯里警察局。我在旅店又住了一晚。第二天一早,我去邮局取玛丽安的来信。我们按约定每天通信。玛丽安的来信一直都是好消息。今天早上的来信很短,但却令我害怕。


请尽快回来。我们不得不搬了家。到富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街(5号)来找我们。我也会留意等你。不必为我们担心,我们很安全。一定快回来。玛丽安


出了什么事?我不在的时候,福斯科伯爵又做了什么坏事?尽管非常担心,我还是得等。我付清了旅店的费用,叫了辆马车直奔诺雷斯伯里。

在警察局,不出我所料,没人来继续同我纠缠,我可以走了。半个小时后,我登上了返回伦敦的火车。

大约9点钟,我赶到了富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街。劳拉和玛丽安都到门口迎接我。劳拉的脸色比以前好多了,人也高兴多了,对将来和她的绘画有很多想法。玛丽安的脸上带着倦容和忧虑。看得出她没有把珀西瓦尔死在韦明翰的可怕消息和搬到新住处的真实原因告诉劳拉。劳拉走开以后,我们可以随便谈话了。我想告诉她我非常敬佩她的勇气和她对劳拉表现出的爱。

这位慷慨的姑娘没等我说完就把话题转到我的担忧上来了。

alt

“给你写那样的信,真是对不起——你一定很为我们担心吧。”

“是的,我的确很担心,”我说,“我猜你们搬家是由于福斯科伯爵的威胁,对吗?”

“一点儿不错,”她回答,“我昨天看见他了,更糟糕的是,沃尔特——我跟他说话了。”

“跟他说话了?他去你们的住处了?”

“是的。昨天,我从窗旁走过的时候,看见他在街上。过了一会儿,有人敲门。我马上跑过去开门,就是他,穿一身黑色衣服,光滑的脸上带着吓人的微笑。我关上了身后的门,这样劳拉就看不见他,也听不见他说话了。”

“他都说了什么?”我急切地问。

“他跟我打了招呼,然后再一次重复了他在信中对我的警告。他说他没能阻止珀西瓦尔爵士针对你的恶劣行为,他找到我们的住处是要保护他自己的利益。你第一次去汉普郡回来的时候就被跟踪了,沃尔特。他在听到珀西瓦尔爵士的死讯后才决定登门,因为他认为你下一个对付的目标就是他。”

“让他说对了,”我说,“他说我什么了?”

“他非常冷静而有礼,同时又非常具有威胁性,”玛丽安接着说,“他说,‘请警告哈特里特先生!他要对付的是一个有智慧、有权势的人。叫他对已经得到的东西知足吧。告诉他,如果他跟我对着干,我将不遗余力地干掉他。我会不择手段的。亲爱的小姐,再见。’然后,他用冷酷的灰眼睛看了看我,就走了。

“我赶忙跑进屋,跟劳拉说我们得搬家。为她的健康着想,我们需要一个更安静、空气更好的地方。我说你也希望我们搬家,为什么不现在就搬,等你回来给你一个惊喜呢。她喜欢这个主意,欢天喜地地同意了。我通过一个校友找到这个住处。我做得没错吧,沃尔特?”

我说她做得非常好,这是我的心里话。

但是,她脸上依然带着忧虑,从她的眼神里看得出,她还在害怕伯爵的精明和权势。

“沃尔特,你怎么看他的那些话?下一步你准备怎么做?”

“几星期前,我就决定让劳拉重新在她叔叔家得到应有的承认,”我回答,“现在我还是这样想的。我要让福斯科伯爵为他犯下的罪行付出代价。”

玛丽安的眼睛一亮,虽然没有说话,但是看得出她非常支持这个计划。

“我清楚这样做风险很大,”我说,“但这件事一定要做。我不会愚蠢到没做好准备就动手。我可以等。让他觉得他的话起了作用,认为已经平安无事了。另外,我跟你和劳拉的关系也该比现在更明确。”

“怎么个更明确法?”她吃惊地问。

“玛丽安,我希望你能心平气和地告诉劳拉,她丈夫已经死了。”

“噢,沃尔特,这么快就告诉她?你这样做是不是有什么原因?”

“是的,我现在还不能跟劳拉谈,但总有一天,不会太久,我会告诉她我爱她。”

玛丽安看了我一会儿,然后淡淡地、略带忧伤地笑了笑,“好吧,我明白。我想这是我欠你们的,沃尔特,我会把她丈夫的死讯告诉她。”

第二天,劳拉知道她丈夫死了,她也从这段婚姻中解脱了,那以后我们谁也没再提过她丈夫的名字。

*  *  *

我们的生活恢复了往常的模式,但是我没有忘记伯爵。我了解到他在圣约翰伍德的房子又续租了6个月,因此可以肯定,到了我采取行动的时候,他还会在伦敦,我还可以找到他。

我们终于弄清了安妮·凯瑟里克的父亲是谁。我又去见了克莱门茨太太,告诉她安妮已经死了。她记起凯瑟里克太太当仆人的地方。她的雇主姓多桑。

我们给多桑先生写信,他在回信中告诉我们一些非常有趣的信息。菲利普·费尔利,就是劳拉的父亲,年轻时和他是好友,也是他家里的常客。菲利普风流潇洒,喜欢女色。多桑先生非常肯定凯瑟里克太太在他家当仆人的那段时间,也就是安妮出生的前一年,菲利普·费尔利一直住在他家。

玛丽安和我算了算时间,我们想到安妮和劳拉如此地相像,想到劳拉如此地像她父亲,我们得到了非常肯定的答案。菲利普·费尔利是安妮的父亲,安妮和劳拉是同父异母的姐妹。

现在,那位白衣女人,那位在寂静深夜出现的古怪而哀伤的女人终于可以安息了。

*  *  *

四个月过去了,劳拉的身体渐渐强壮起来,头脑也慢慢清楚了。她几乎又是原来的她了。我们交谈的时候,感觉和当初在利默里奇谈话时一样。当我无意间碰到她的时候,我感到心跳在加速,而且我注意到她也脸红了。

4月,我们到海边度假。在那里,我告诉玛丽安,等回到伦敦,我一定要迫使福斯科伯爵说实话,让他说出劳拉回伦敦的真正日期。

“但是为了劳拉的安全,我想如果我挑战伯爵的话,最好以她丈夫的身份前去,你同意吗,玛丽安?”

“完全同意,”玛丽安说,“我曾让你们两个分开,你在这儿等我一下,我的好朋友!一会儿劳拉就过来,她会告诉你我这次是怎么做的,好吗?”

她吻了吻我的额头,走了出去。我在窗旁等着,眼睛望着海滩,却什么也看不到,我紧张得几乎喘不过气来。门开了,劳拉一个人走进来。我们在利默里奇分手的时候,她是慢慢地走进房间的,神情充满了痛苦和犹豫。这会儿,她跑向我,脸上闪耀着幸福的光芒。她张开手臂紧紧地拥抱我,用甜润的双唇吻着我。

“亲爱的!”她轻声说,“现在我们能对彼此说‘我爱你’了吧?啊,我终于得到幸福了!”

十天以后,我们的幸福又向前迈进了一步,我们结婚了。

14
The confession

A fortnight later, we returned to London, and I began to prepare for my battle with the Count. It was now early May and the rental agreement for his house ended in June. In my new happiness with Laura (to whom we never mentioned the Count's name), I was sometimes tempted to change my mind and to leave things as they were. But she still had dreams, terrible dreams that made her cry out in her sleep, and I knew I had to go on.

First, I tried to find out more about the Count. Marian told me that he had not been back to Italy for many years. Had he been obliged to leave Italy for political reasons, I wondered? But Marian also said that at Blackwater Park he had received official-looking letters with Italian stamps on, which would seem to contradict this idea. Perhaps he was a spy, I thought. That might explain why he had stayed in England so long after the successful completion of his plot. Who could I ask who might know something? Another Italian, perhaps — and I suddenly thought of my old friend, Professor Pesca.

Before I did that, I decided to have a look at the Count, as up to this time I had never once set eyes on him. So one morning I went to Forest Road, St John's Wood, and waited near his house. Eventually, he came out and I followed behind him as he walked towards the centre of London. Marian had prepared me for his enormous size and fashionable clothes, but not for the horrible freshness and cheerfulness and energy of the man.

Near Oxford Street he stopped to read a sign announcing an opera, and then went into the opera ticket office, which was nearby. I went over to read the sign. The opera was being performed that evening, and it seemed likely that the Count would be in the audience.

If I invite Pesca to the opera, I thought, I can point the Count out to him and find out if he knows him. So I bought two tickets myself, sent Pesca a note, and that evening called to take him with me to the opera.

The music had already started when we went in, and all the seats were filled. However, there was room to stand at the sides. I looked around and saw the Count sitting in a seat half-way down, so I placed myself exactly on a line with him, with Pesca standing at my side. When the first part finished, the audience, including the Count, rose to look about them.

When the Count was looking in our direction, I nudged Pesca with my elbow. 'You see that tall fat man? Do you know him?'

'No,' said Pesca. 'Is he famous? Why do you point him out?'

'Because I have a reason for wanting to know more about him. He's an Italian, and his name is Count Fosco. Do you know that name? Look — stand on this step so that you can see him better.'

A slim, fair-haired man, with a scar on his left cheek, was standing near us. I saw him look at Pesca, and then follow the direction of his eyes to the Count. Pesca repeated that he did not know him, and as he spoke, the Count looked our way again.

The eyes of the two Italians met.

In that second I was suddenly convinced that, while Pesca may not have known the Count, the Count certainly knew Pesca!

Not only knew him, but — more surprising still — feared him as well. The Count's face had frozen into a dreadful stillness, the cheeks as pale as death, the cold grey eyes staring in terror.

Nearby, the man with the scar also seemed to be watching with interest the effect that Pesca had had on the Count.

'How the fat man stares!' Pesca said, looking round at me. 'But I've never seen him before in my life.'

As Pesca looked away, the Count turned, moving quickly towards the back of the theatre, where the crowd was thickest. I caught Pesca's arm and, to his great surprise, hurried him with me after the Count. The slim man with the scar had apparently also decided to leave, and was already ahead of us. By the time Pesca and I reached the entrance, neither the Count nor the slim man was in sight.

'Pesca,' I said urgently, 'I must speak to you in private. May we go to your lodgings to talk?'

'What on earth is the matter?' cried Pesca.

I hurried him on without answering. The way the Count had left the theatre, his extraordinary anxiety to avoid Pesca, made me fear that he might go even further — and out of my reach.

In Pesca's lodgings, I explained everything as fast as I could, while Pesca stared at me in great confusion and amazement.

'He knows you — he's afraid of you. He left the theatre to escape you,' I said. 'There must be a reason, Pesca! Think of your own life before you came to England. You left Italy for political reasons. I don't ask what they were. But could that man's terror be connected with your past in some way?'

To my inexpressible surprise, these harmless words seemed to terrify Pesca. His face went white and he started to tremble.

'Walter!' he whispered. 'You don't know what you ask.'

I stared at him. 'Pesca, forgive me. I didn't mean to cause you pain. I spoke only because of what my wife has suffered from that man's cruel actions. You must forgive me.'

I rose to go. He stopped me before I reached the door.

'Wait,' he said. 'You saved my life once. You have a right to hear from me what you want to know, even though I could be killed for it. I only ask that, if you find the connection between my past and that man Fosco, you do not tell me.'

Then, his face still pale as the memories of the past crowded in on him, he told me the story.

'In my youth I belonged — and still belong — to a secret political society. Let's call it the Brotherhood, I can't tell you its real name. But I took too many risks and did something which put other members in danger. So I was ordered to go and live in England and to wait. I went — I have waited — I still wait. I could be called away tomorrow, or in ten years. I cannot know.

'The purpose of the Brotherhood is to fight for the rights of the people. There is a president in Italy, and presidents abroad. Each of these has his secretary. The presidents and secretaries know the members, but members don't know each other, until it's considered necessary. Every member of the Brotherhood is identified by a small round mark burnt into the skin, high up on the inside of their left arm.'

He rolled up his sleeve and showed me his own mark.

'If anyone betrays the Brotherhood,' he went on, 'he is a dead man. Another member, a distant stranger or a neighbour, will be ordered to kill him. No one can leave the society — ever.'

Pesca paused, then continued. 'In Italy I was chosen to be secretary. The members at that time were brought face to face with the president, and were also brought face to face with me. You understand me — I see it in your face. But tell me nothing, I beg you! Let me stay free of a responsibility which horrifies me.

'I do not know the man at the opera,' he said finally. 'If he knows me, he is so changed, or disguised, that I do not know him. Leave me now, Walter. I have said enough.'

'I thank you with all my heart, Pesca,' I said. 'You will never, never regret the trust you have placed in me.'

Walking home, my heart beat with excitement. Here at last, surely, was my weapon against the Count! I was convinced he was a member of the Brotherhood, had betrayed it, and believed that he had been recognized tonight. His life was now in danger. What else could explain his extreme terror at seeing Pesca?

And what would he do next? Leave London as fast as he could. If I went to his house and tried to stop him, he would not hesitate to kill me. To protect myself, I had to make his safety depend on mine. I hurried home and wrote this letter to Pesca:

The man at the opera, Fosco, is a member of your society and has betrayed it. Go instantly to his house at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. I am already dead. Use your power against him without delay.

I signed and dated the letter, and wrote on the envelope: Keep until nine o'clock tomorrow morning. If you do not hear from me before then, open the envelope and read the contents.

I then found a messenger, told him to deliver the letter and bring back a note from Professor Pesca to say he had received it. Twenty minutes later I had the note, and as I was leaving, Marian came to the door, looking anxious.

'It's tonight, isn't it?' she said. 'You're going to the Count.'

'Yes, it's the last chance, and the best.'

'Oh, Walter, not alone! Let me go with you. Don't go alone?'

'No, Marian. You must stay here and guard Laura for me. Then I will be easy in my mind when I face the Count.'

*  *  *

As I approached the Count's house, I passed the man with the scar on his cheek, whom I had noticed earlier at the opera. What was he doing here, I wondered?

I sent in my card, and I still do not know why the Count let me into his house at half past eleven at night. Was he just curious to see me? He would not have known that I was at the opera with Pesca, and I suppose he thought he had nothing to fear from me.

He was still in his evening suit, and there was a travelling case on the floor, with books, papers, and clothes all around him. My guess had been right.

'You come here on business, Mr Hartright?' he said, looking at me with curiosity. 'I cannot think what that might be.'

'You are obviously preparing for a journey,' I said. 'That is my business. I know why you are leaving London.'

'So you know why I am leaving London?' He went over to a table and opened a drawer.' Tell me the reason, if you please.'

'I can show you the reason,' I said. 'Roll up the sleeve on your left arm, and you will see it.'

His cold grey eyes stared into mine. There was a long heartbeat of silence. I was as certain as if I had seen it that he had a gun hidden in the drawer, and that my life hung by a thread.

'Wait a little,' I said. 'Before you act, I advise you to read this note.' Moving slowly and carefully, I passed him Pesca's note.

He read the lines aloud.

Your letter is received. If I don't hear from you before nine o'clock, I will open the envelope when the clock strikes.

Another man might have needed an explanation, but not the Count. His expression changed, and he closed the drawer.

'You are cleverer than I thought,' he said. 'I cannot leave before nine as I have to wait for a passport to be delivered. Your information may be true or may be false — where did you get it?'

'I refuse to tell you.'

'And that unsigned note you showed me — who wrote it?'

'A man whom you have every reason to fear.'

A pause. 'What do you want of me, Mr Hartright? Is it to do with a lady, perhaps?'

'Yes, my wife,' I answered.

He looked at me in real amazement, and I saw at once that he no longer considered me a dangerous man. He folded his arms and listened to me with a cold smile.

'You are guilty of a wicked crime,' I went on. 'But you can keep the money. All I want is a signed confession of the plot and a proof of the date my wife travelled to London.'

'Good!' he said. 'Those are your conditions; here are mine. One, Madame Fosco and I leave the house when we please and you do not try to stop us. Two, you wait here until my agent comes early tomorrow morning and you give him an order to get back your letter unopened. You then allow us half an hour to leave the house. Three, you agree to fight me at a place to be arranged later abroad. Do you accept my conditions — yes or no?'

His quick decision, his cleverness and force of character amazed me. For a second I hesitated. Should I let him escape? Yes, the evidence I needed to prove Laura's identity was far more important than revenge.

'I accept your conditions,' I said.

At once, he called for coffee and sat down to write. He wrote quickly for quite some time. Finally, he jumped up, declared that he had finished and read out his statement, which I accepted as satisfactory. He gave me the address of the company from whom he had hired the cab to collect Laura, and also gave me a letter signed by Sir Percival. It was dated 25th July, and announced the journey of Lady Glyde to London on 26th July. So there it was. On 25th July, the date of her death certificate in London, Laura was alive in Hampshire, about to make a journey the next day.

The Count then called in Madame Fosco to watch me while he slept. Early in the morning his agent arrived and I wrote a note for Pesca. An hour later, the agent returned with my unopened letter and the Count's passport.

'Remember the third condition!' the Count said as he left. 'You will hear from me, Mr Hartright.' Then he and the Countess got into the agent's cab with their bags and drove away, leaving the agent with me to make sure I did not follow.

As I watched them leave, another cab went by and I saw inside the man with the scar on his cheek. What was his business with the Count, I wondered? I had seen him too often now for it to be chance. Perhaps I had fought my own battle with the Count just in time. You cannot get a signed confession out of a dead man.

While I waited for the agreed half hour, I read the document that the Count had written for me.


Statement by Isidor Ottavio Baldassare Fosco

In the summer of 1850 I arrived in England on delicate political business and stayed with my friend, Sir Percival Glyde. We both urgently needed large amounts of money. The only person who had such money was his wife, from whom not a penny could be obtained until her death. To make matters worse, my friend had other private problems. A woman called Anne Catherick was hidden in the neighbourhood, was communicating with Lady Glyde, and knew a secret which could ruin him. And if he was ruined, what would happen to our financial interests?

The first thing to do was to find Anne Catherick, who, I was told, looked very much like Lady Glyde and who had escaped from a mad-house. I had the fantastic idea of changing the names, places and lives of Lady Glyde and Anne Catherick, the one with the other. The wonderful results of this change would be the gain of £ 30,000 and the keeping of Sir Percival's secret.

I found Anne Catherick and persuaded her and her friend to return to London. I rented a house in St John's Wood for myself, and obtained from Mr Fairlie in Limmeridge an invitation for Lady Glyde to visit. For my plan to work, it was necessary for Lady Glyde to leave Blackwater Park alone and stay a night at my house on her way to Limmeridge. This plan was made easier by Miss Halcombe's illness. I returned to Blackwater Park, and when Miss Halcombe was out of danger, I got rid of the doctor and instructed Sir Percival to get rid of the servants.

Next, we sent Mrs Michelson away for a few days, and one night Madame Fosco, Mrs Rubelle and I moved the sleeping Miss Halcombe to an unused part of the house. I left for London in the morning with my wife, leaving Sir Percival to persuade Lady Glyde that her sister had gone to Limmeridge and that she should follow her, breaking her journey in London at my house.

On 24th July, with my wife's help, I got hold of Anne Catherick, and took her to my house as Lady Glyde. However, when she saw no one she recognized, she screamed with fear and, to my horror, the shock to her weak heart caused her to collapse. By the end of the following day, she was dead. Dead on the 25th, and Lady Glyde was not due to arrive in London till the 26th!

It was too late to change the plan. I remained calm and carried on. On the 26th, leaving the false Lady Glyde dead in my house, I collected the true Lady Glyde from the railway station and took her to Mrs Rubelle's house. The two medical men I had hired (shall we say) were easily persuaded to certify the confused and frightened Lady Glyde as mentally ill. Then I gave her a drug and had Mrs Rubelle dress her in Anne Catherick's clothes. The next day, the 27th, she was delivered to the asylum, where she was received with great surprise, but without suspicion. The false Lady Glyde was buried at Limmeridge. I attended the funeral with suitable expressions of deep sympathy.

One final question remains. If Anne Catherick had not died when she did, what would I have done? I would, of course, have given her a happy release from the prison of life.


tempt v. to make someone want to have or do something 引诱

contradict v. be in conflict with 与……相矛盾

perform v. act 表演

nudge v. push gently 轻轻地碰

inexpressible adj. that can not be expressed 难以说清的

disguise v. alter the appearance so as to conceal the identity 伪装

curious adj. eager to learn; inquisitive 好奇的

aloud adv. audibly 出声地

agent n. a person who acts for another in business, politics etc. 代理人

delicate adj. tricky 微妙的

fantastic adj. wonderful 绝好的

14.认罪

两个星期之后,我们回到了伦敦。我开始准备与伯爵的较量。现在是5月初,他租房的期限到6月。享受着与劳拉新婚的幸福(我们从未跟她提起过伯爵),有时我忍不住想改变主意,让一切都过去。但是劳拉仍会做梦,可怕的噩梦,她常常在梦里惊叫起来,因此我明白必须继续原来的计划。

首先,我想尽量多了解一些伯爵的事。玛丽安告诉我,他已经很多年没有回意大利了。我想,他是不是由于政治原因被迫离开意大利的呢?但是玛丽安又说,在布莱克沃特庄园他好像收到过贴着意大利邮票的官方来信,这两者是互相矛盾的。也许他是间谍。这样可以解释为什么他在自己的阴谋得逞后,还在英国逗留那么久。有谁能告诉我答案呢?也许该再找个意大利人问问——猛然间我想到了老朋友,佩斯卡教授。

去见佩斯卡教授前,我决定先去看一下伯爵,因为到目前为止,我还从来没有见过他。于是一天早上,我去了圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特大街,在他的住处附近等他出现。最后,他终于出来了,朝伦敦市中心走去。我在后面跟着他。玛丽安跟我提过他身躯肥胖,衣着入时,但我没想到这个人那么精力旺盛,神采飞扬。

在牛津街附近,他停住脚步看一个歌剧的海报,然后走进了不远处的售票处。我过去看了一下海报,发现演出就在晚上,伯爵很可能会出现在观众当中。

我想假如邀请佩斯卡来看歌剧,就可以把伯爵指给他,看他是否认识。于是,我自己买了两张票,给佩斯卡写了封短信,晚上找他一起去看歌剧。

我们进入剧院的时候,音乐已经响起来了,剧场里座无虚席。不过剧场两边还有站的地方。我环顾四周,看到伯爵坐在前面几排的座位上,于是我也站到了那一排,佩斯卡站在我旁边。第一部分演出结束了,观众们,包括伯爵在内,都起身向周围张望。

在伯爵朝我们这个方向看的时候,我用臂肘碰了一下佩斯卡,“看见那个高大的胖子了吗?你认识他吗?”

“不认识,”佩斯卡回答,“他很有名吗?你为什么让我看他?”

“因为我需要更多地了解关于他的情况。他是意大利人,叫福斯科伯爵。你听说过这个名字吗?来,站这个台阶上,你会看得更清楚些。”

一个瘦瘦的金发男子站在我们的旁边,他的左脸上有一道疤。我注意到他看了看佩斯卡,又顺着佩斯卡的视线看了看伯爵。佩斯卡再一次对我说,他不认识那个人,就在他说话的时候,伯爵朝我们这边看过来。

这两个意大利人的目光相遇了。

那一瞬间,我敢肯定地说,佩斯卡可能不认识伯爵,但伯爵一定认识佩斯卡!

不仅是认识,更令人惊奇的是伯爵害怕佩斯卡。伯爵脸上的表情凝固了,像死人一样毫无血色,冷酷的灰眼睛恐惧地盯着这边。

脸上有疤的人似乎饶有兴趣地在一旁看着佩斯卡对伯爵的影响。

“那个胖子怎么那样看着我!”佩斯卡说,转过头看着我,“我从未见过他呀。”

佩斯卡扭头的时候,伯爵转身快步向剧场后边走去,那里人最多。我一把抓住佩斯卡的胳膊,不顾他的惊讶,拉着他紧追伯爵。那个脸上有疤的瘦子显然也准备离开剧场,并且已经走到了我们的前面。等我和佩斯卡赶到入口,伯爵和那个瘦子都已经不见了。

“佩斯卡,”我赶忙说,“我必须和你单独谈谈,我们到你的住处去谈可以吗?”

“这到底是怎么回事?”佩斯卡大声说。

我没回答,只是催着他赶紧走。伯爵离开剧场的样子,还有他迫不及待地要躲避佩斯卡,使我担心他可能会逃得更远——我可能再也找不到他了。

到了佩斯卡的住处,我以最快的速度向他讲述了事情的经过,他充满迷惑和惊讶地望着我。

他认识你——他很怕你。他离开剧场就是要逃避你,”我说,“这其中一定有原因,佩斯卡!回忆一下你来英国以前的经历。你是由于政治原因离开意大利的,我不是问你那些政治原因,不过那个人如此惊慌会不会同你的过去有什么关联?”

令我非常吃惊的是,这些本来无关紧要的话好像令佩斯卡非常惊恐。他的脸色变得煞白,身体开始颤抖。

“沃尔特!”他低声说,“你不知道你问了什么。”

我两眼紧盯着他,“佩斯卡,请原谅。我不是有意要给你带来痛苦,我说那些话只是因为那个人给我妻子带来了巨大的伤害。请你原谅我。”

我起身要离开,还没走到门口,他叫住了我。

“等一下,”他说,“你救过我的命,你有权从我这里知道你想要知道的东西,即使这会要了我的命。我唯一的请求是,即使你发现了我的过去同那个福斯科的关系,你也不要告诉我。”

接着,他开始讲他的经历,过去的记忆卷土重来,令他脸色煞白。

“我年轻的时候参加了一个秘密政治社团,现在还是它的成员。我们姑且叫它兄弟社团,我不能告诉你真实的名称。我当时完成了很多出生入死的任务,也做了一些给其他成员带来危险的事,所以社团命令我到英国待命。我服从命令来了英国——一直在等——现在还在等。我可能明天就被召回,也许是10年以后。我不知道。

“兄弟社团的宗旨是为人民争取权利。它在意大利有一个主席,国外有很多主席。每个主席都有秘书。主席和秘书认识所有的成员,但除非在必要的情况下,成员们彼此都不认识。每个兄弟社团成员的左臂内侧靠上的地方都有一个很小的圆形烙印,这是他们的记号。”

他卷起衣袖,给我看他自己的烙印。

“任何人背叛了兄弟社团,”他接着说,“他肯定会被处死。其他成员,也许是一个他不认识的陌生人,也许是他的邻居,会奉命杀死他。任何人不能退出社团——永远都不可以。”

佩斯卡停了一会儿又说:“在意大利,我被选为秘书,所有的成员那时都被带来见主席,当然也就见到了。你明白了我的意思——我从你的表情看出来了。但是,什么也别跟我说,求你了!我不想做我必须做的事,我感到害怕。

“我不认识剧场的那个人,”他最后说,“如果他认识,那他一定跟以前变化很大,或者伪装了自己,让我认不出来了。你现在走吧,沃尔特。我说得够多了。”

“我衷心地感谢你,佩斯卡,”我说,“你永远不会为信任我而后悔的。”

走在回家的路上,我的心情激动不已。我终于找到了对付伯爵的武器。我敢肯定他原来是一个兄弟社团成员,后来背叛了社团,他认为自己今晚被认出来了。现在他的生命很危险。不然他见到佩斯卡为什么那样害怕呢?

那他接着会做什么呢?尽快离开伦敦。如果我去他的住处拦住他,他肯定会毫不犹豫地杀了我。为保护我自己,我必须让他的生命安全地攥在我的手里。我赶忙回到家,给佩斯卡写了一封信:

剧场的那个人,福斯科,是你们社团的一个成员,他背叛了社团。赶快到他的住处圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特街5号。我已经死了。请用你的力量立即干掉他。

我签了名,写上日期,又在信封上写道:等到明天上午9点。如果到那时还没有我的消息,再打开信封读里面的内容。

然后,我找了一个信使,叫他把信送走并带回佩斯卡的回复,说他已经收到信了。20分钟后,我拿到了回复的纸条。我刚要离开,玛丽安出现在门口,脸上露出担忧的表情。

“就是今天晚上吗?”她说,“你要去找伯爵。”

“对,这是最后的机会,也是最好的机会。”

“噢,沃尔特,别一个人去!让我跟你去吧,不要一个人去!”

“不行,玛丽安。你必须留在这里替我保护劳拉。那样,我面对伯爵的时候才会放心。”

*  *  *

快到伯爵住处的时候,我碰见了脸上有疤的那个人,早些时候在剧场就见过他。他在这儿做什么,我心里很纳闷。

我把名片递进去,我到现在也不明白,为什么夜里11点半伯爵还让我进去。他对我好奇,想见我?他并不知道我和佩斯卡同在剧场,我猜想他觉得我没有什么好怕的。

他还穿着晚礼服,地上有一个旅行箱,他周围满是书籍、文件和衣服。我猜的没错。

“你来这里有事,哈特里特先生?”他一边说,一边用好奇的眼光打量我,“我想不出会是什么事。”

“你像是在准备出门旅行,”我说,“这就是我来的原因。我知道你为什么要离开伦敦。”

“你知道我为什么要离开伦敦?”他走到一张桌旁,打开抽屉,“如果你愿意,说说为什么。”

“我可以让你看看为什么,”我说,“把你左边的衣袖卷起,就能看到。”

他那冷酷的灰眼睛一动不动地盯着我。接下来是一阵令人紧张的寂静。我就像亲眼所见一样清楚,那抽屉里藏着枪,我现在命悬一线。

“等一下,”我说,“你动手之前,我建议你看看这个纸条。”我慢慢地、小心翼翼地把佩斯卡的纸条递给他。

他出声读着纸条。

你的信收到了。如果9点以前没有你的消息,9点整,钟一响我就打开信封。

假如换作另外一个人,可能需要一些解释,但伯爵不需要。他脸上的表情变了,他关上了抽屉。

“你比我想的要聪明,”他说,“我9点以前走不了,我得等人给我送护照来。你得到的信息可能是真的,也可能是假的。你是从哪儿知道的?”

“我不会告诉你的。”

“你给我的没有签名的纸条是谁写的?”

“一个你非常害怕的人。”

他停了一会儿,“你要我做什么,哈特里特先生?是不是跟一位女士有关?”

“是的,是我妻子。”我回答。

他非常吃惊地看着我。看得出他不再认为我会给他带来危险了。他双手交叉抱在胸前,面带冷笑听我继续说下去。

“你犯下了严重的罪行,”我接着说道,“但是,你可以留着你得到的钱。我只要一个由你签名的认罪书,还有我妻子回伦敦的日期证明。”

“好!”他说,“这是你的条件,我的条件是:第一,福斯科夫人和我在我们愿意的时候离开这里,你不要阻止我们。第二,你呆在这里,明天一早我的代理人过来,你让他取回那封还没有打开的信。然后,你要给我们半个小时的时间离开这里。第三,你答应跟我在国外找一个地方决斗。你接受我的条件吗——是还是否?”

他的迅速决断,他的精干和意志力令我震惊。我犹豫了一会儿。我应该让他逃走吗?是的,证明劳拉身份的证据比复仇重要得多。

“我接受你的条件。”我说。

他随即叫人拿来咖啡,坐下开始写。他落笔如飞,写了很长时间。最后,他站起来,说他已经写完了并念给我听。我觉得还满意。他给了我他租车接劳拉的那家公司的地址,同时给我的还有珀西瓦尔爵士签名的一封信。信的日期是7月25日,里面说格莱德夫人将于7月26日启程去伦敦。这就是证据。7月25日,即死亡证明上宣告劳拉死于伦敦的日子,劳拉还在汉普郡活着准备第二天的旅行。

然后,伯爵把福斯科夫人叫进来,让她看着我,他自己去睡觉。第二天一早,他的代理人来了,我给佩斯卡写了封短信。一个小时后,代理人拿着我那封没打开的信和护照回来了。

“别忘了第三个条件!”伯爵临走时说,“你会收到我的信的,哈特里特先生。”说完,他和伯爵夫人坐上代理人的马车离开了这里,代理人留下来,确保我不跟踪他们。

我看着他们离开,这时另一辆马车驶过去,车里坐着那个脸上有疤的人。他和伯爵有什么瓜葛?我看到他好几次了,不应该是巧合。或许我跟伯爵的较量正是时候。他要是死了,我就没法得到他签名的笔录了。

在约定的半小时里,我读了伯爵写给我的认罪书。

伊西多·奥塔维奥·鲍尔德塞尔·福斯科的证词

1850年夏天,由于微妙的政治原因我来到英国,同我的朋友珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士住在一起。我们两人都急需一大笔钱。唯一拥有这笔钱的人是他妻子,但是他妻子不死,我们一分钱也得不到。更糟糕的是,我的朋友又遇到了别的麻烦事。一个叫安妮·凯瑟里克的女人藏在我们附近,她在同格莱德夫人接触,并且掌握着一个可以毁掉珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。如果他完蛋了,那我们的经济利益怎么办呢?

我们要做的第一件事就是找到安妮·凯瑟里克。我了解到她的长相和格莱德夫人极为相似。她是从精神病院逃出来的。我突发奇想,把格莱德夫人同安妮·凯瑟里克的名字、住处、经历互换一下。互换的结果既可以让我们得到3万英镑,又能够保住珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。

我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,说服她和她的朋友回伦敦去。我自己在圣约翰伍德租了房子,同时从利默里奇的费尔利先生那里得到了邀请格莱德夫人去看望他的信。要实现我的计划,必须让格莱德夫人一个人离开布莱克沃特庄园,在去往利默里奇的途中在我家里住一夜。哈尔库姆小姐的病让我的计划更容易进行了。我回到布莱克沃特庄园,等哈尔库姆小姐一脱离危险,就辞退了医生,并且让珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了所有仆人。

下一步,我们让米切尔森太太离开庄园几天。一天晚上,福斯科夫人、鲁贝尔太太和我把昏睡中的哈尔库姆小姐抬到了一个没有人住的房间里。转天一早,我和夫人赶往伦敦,留下珀西瓦尔爵士劝说格莱德夫人,让她相信她姐姐已经去了利默里奇,她也应该去找她,途中在伦敦我的家休息。

7月24日,在我妻子的协助下,我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,把她带到我的住处,假装就是格莱德夫人。然而,当安妮·凯瑟里克看到没有一个她认识的人时,吓得叫了起来。令我非常害怕的是,惊吓使她脆弱的心脏无法承受,转天她就死了。她是25日死的,可是格莱德夫人26日才能到伦敦!

改变计划已经来不及了。我尽量保持头脑冷静,继续着原来的计划。26日,我把已死的假格莱德夫人留在家里,到车站去接真正的格莱德夫人,带她到鲁贝尔太太家。我雇用的(可以这样说)两个医生很容易就被说服了,他们证明迷惑而惊恐的格莱德夫人患了精神病。而后,我给她吃了镇静药,让鲁贝尔太太给她穿上安妮·凯瑟里克的衣服。第二天,也就是27日,格莱德夫人被送进精神病院,那里的人非常吃惊,但没有人怀疑。假格莱德夫人被埋葬在利默里奇。我出席了葬礼,表现出应有的悲伤与同情。

还有最后一个问题,如果安妮·凯瑟里克没有死的话,我会怎么办呢?我当然很高兴帮她摆脱牢笼般的人生。

15
The proof

When the half hour had passed, I returned home. After a brief explanation to Laura and Marian, I hurried back to St John's Wood to find the cab-driver whom the Count had hired to collect Laura at the station. He wrote me a statement, which he and a witness signed, saying that on 26th July 1850 he had driven a Count Fosco to the railway station where they had collected a Lady Glyde. He remembered Lady Glyde's name, he said, from the labels on her luggage.

Then I went to Mr Kyrle's office and presented him with the proof of Laura's identity — the letter from Sir Percival, the statement by the cab-driver, the confession by the Count, and the death certificate. Amazed, he congratulated me, and agreed to accompany us to Limmeridge the next day, where I intended to have Laura publicly received and recognized.

Early the next morning Laura, Marian, Mr Kyrle and I took the train to Limmeridge. Laura and Marian stayed at first in a hotel while Mr Kyrle and I went to the house to deal with Mr Fairlie. He complained like a child, saying how was he to know his niece was alive when he was told she was dead? Between us, the lawyer and I made him sign letters calling all those who had attended the false funeral to come to the house the next day.

As I led Laura into her childhood home the following morning, there was a murmur of surprise and interest from the waiting crowd of villagers and neighbours. The business was soon done. I read out the story of the plot against Laura, and Mr Kyrle announced that everything I had said was proved by the strongest evidence. I put my arm around Laura, raised her up, and called to the crowd:

'Are you all agreed that this is the Laura Fairlie you knew?'

'There she is, alive and well — God bless her!' It was an old man at the back of the room who began it, and in an instant everybody was shouting and cheering together.

Later, in the churchyard, we watched a stone worker remove Laura's name from the gravestone. In its place he put this:

ANNE CATHERICK

25TH JULY 1850

We returned to London the following day, happy in the thought that the long struggle was now over.

*  *  *

Several days later Pesca came to see me, and asked for a quiet word in my ear. He had just returned from Paris.

'I have news for you, my friend,' he said. 'You need not worry any more about the man at the opera. His body was found in the river Seine yesterday and now lies in the morgue in Paris. He was killed by knife wounds to the heart.'

'Count Fosco is dead?' I said, amazed. 'Are you sure?'

'I saw the body with my own eyes. He was wearing a French workman's clothes, and had a different name, of course, but he was the fat man we saw at the opera that night. No question.'

'But how do you know this?' I asked.

Pesca hesitated. 'A man brought me some information,' he said. 'I had to see the body, and send a report about it.'

'A man,' I said. 'What kind of man?'

'A stranger,' said Pesca. 'I didn't know him. A man with a scar on his left cheek.' He saw the understanding in my face, and held up his hand. 'No more questions, my friend. Please!'

We never spoke about it again, but I think Pesca was telling me that the Brotherhood had taken their revenge. And so Count Fosco, that extraordinary, evil man, passed from this world.

*  *  *

The following year our first child was born — a son. Six months later my newspaper sent me to Ireland and, when I returned, I found a note from my wife saying she and Marian and little Walter had gone to Limmeridge House. She begged me to follow as soon as possible. Very surprised, I caught the next train. When I got there, Marian and Laura told me Mr Fairlie was dead and that Mr Kyrle had advised them to go to Limmeridge House.

Laura came close to me and I half realized some great change was happening in our lives.

'Do you know who this is, Walter?' Marian asked, holding up my little son, with tears of happiness in her eyes. 'This is the boy who will one day inherit Limmeridge House.'

So she spoke. In writing those last words, I have written everything. Marian was the good friend of our lives — let Marian end our story.


label n. a small piece of paper, card etc. attached to an object and giving information about it 标签

congratulate v. express pleasure at the happiness or good fortune or excellence of a person 祝贺

morgue n. a room or building in which dead bodies may be kept until burial or cremation 停尸间

15.证据

alt

那半个小时过去了,我回到家里。简单地向劳拉和玛丽安说明了情况后,我立即赶回圣约翰伍德去找那个伯爵雇来到车站接劳拉的车夫。那人给我写了份证词,他和另一个证人都签了字。证词说,1850年7月26日他驾车送福斯科伯爵去车站,接了一位格莱德夫人。他说还记得格莱德夫人的名字,是在行李标签上看到的。

然后,我去了克尔先生的办公室,给他看了证明劳拉身份的证据——珀西瓦尔爵士的信、马车夫的证词、伯爵的认罪书和那份死亡证明。克尔先生很吃惊,接着向我表示祝贺并且答应第二天陪我们到利默里奇,我准备让人们公开地接受和认可劳拉。

转天的一大早,劳拉、玛丽安、克尔先生和我乘火车前往利默里奇。劳拉和玛丽安先在一家旅店里休息,克尔先生和我去庄园与费尔利先生交涉。费尔利先生像孩子一样抱怨说,有人告诉他他侄女死了,他怎么会知道他侄女还活着?在只有我们三个人的情况下,克尔先生和我让他在事先准备好的信上签字,邀请所有参加那场假葬礼的人第二天到费尔利家来。

第二天早晨,当我带着劳拉走进她儿时的家时,等候在那里的村民和邻居们发出惊奇的低语声。很快我们进入了正题。我大声宣读了针对劳拉的罪恶阴谋的全过程,克尔先生当众宣布我说的每一件事都证据确凿。我搂住劳拉,扶她起来,高声对众人说:

“你们说这是不是你们认识的劳拉·费尔利?”

“是她,她还好好地活着——上帝保佑她!”一位站在屋子后面的老人首先说,其他人也都立刻欢呼起来。

后来,在教堂墓地里,我们亲眼看着一位石匠把劳拉的名字从墓碑上凿去,在原来的地方刻上:

安妮·凯瑟里克

卒于1850年7月25日

转天,我们返回了伦敦,想到漫长的斗争终于结束了,我们都非常高兴。

*  *  *

过了几天,佩斯卡来看我,要跟我单独聊聊。他刚从巴黎回来。

“我有重要的消息要告诉你,我的朋友,”他说,“你不用再担心剧场里的那个人了,昨天在塞纳河发现了他的尸体,现在他的尸体停放在巴黎的停尸间。他是被人用刀子刺进心脏而死的。”

“福斯科伯爵已经死了?”我吃惊地问,“你能肯定吗?”

“我亲眼看了他的尸体,他穿着法国工人的制服,当然也换了名字,但他就是那天晚上我们在剧场见到的那个胖子。一点儿没错。”

“可你是怎么知道这个消息的呢?”我问。

佩斯卡犹豫了一下。“有人告诉我的,”他说,“我必须亲眼看到他的尸体,然后发一个报告。”

“有人,”我说,“是什么人?”

“一个陌生人,”佩斯卡回答,“我不认识那个人,他的左脸上有一道疤。”看到我脸上了然的表情,他抬了抬手,“请不要多问了,我的朋友!”

我们再没有提起这件事,不过我想佩斯卡是要告诉我兄弟社团已经采取了复仇行动。就这样,福斯科伯爵,那个能力不俗的恶徒从这个世界上消失了。

*  *  *

第二年,我们的第一个孩子出世了——是个儿子。6个月以后,我供职的那家报社派我去了爱尔兰。我回来的时候,看到妻子留给我的一封短信,信上说她和玛丽安还有小沃尔特去了利默里奇庄园。她让我尽快去找他们。我感到很惊讶,赶下一班火车去了那里。我到那儿之后,玛丽安和劳拉告诉我费尔利先生去世了,是克尔先生建议她们到利默里奇庄园去的。

劳拉走到我身边,我朦胧地意识到我们的生活将要发生什么大事。

“你知道这是谁吗,沃尔特?”玛丽安一边举起我的小儿子,一边问我,眼睛里充满了喜悦的泪水,“这个孩子将来有一天会继承利默里奇庄园。”

她就是这样说的。写完了最后几句话,我的讲述就到这里了。玛丽安是我们的终生好友——就让她结束我们的故事吧。

墓碑

PART THREE
THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
第三部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

9
The gravestone

On 13th October 1850 I left the wild forests of Central America and returned to England. I had escaped death by disease, death by war, and death by drowning, and hoped that these experiences had strengthened me to face my future — a future without Laura Fairlie. I still remembered her as Laura Fairlie, and could not think of her by her husband's name.

The first thing I did was to visit my mother and sister in their Hampstead cottage. The joy of our meeting, however, soon turned to sadness. I have no secrets from my mother, and when I saw the loving pity in her eyes, I feared the worst.

The news was soon told. I tried hard not to let my sorrow spoil the happiness of my return for my mother and sister, but by the third day I knew I had to go away alone for a while.

'Let me go up to Limmeridge,' I begged my mother. 'I can bear it better when I have seen her grave.'

It was a warm autumn afternoon when I arrived at the station and walked down the familiar road, seeing in the distance the high white walls of Limmeridge House. In the churchyard I found the grave and knelt down beside the gravestone, closing my eyes.

Oh my love! My Love! My dear, dear Love!

Hours passed, and the evening sunlight threw long shadows among the sleeping places of the dead. I had lost all sense of time, kneeling there. Then, in the silence, I heard the soft sound of footsteps on the grass.

I looked up.

Beyond me, standing together by the churchyard wall, were two women, their veils down, hiding their faces. They were looking towards the grave, looking towards me.

Two.

They came closer, and stopped. One of them lifted her veil, and in the still evening light I saw the face of Marian Halcombe. A changed face. Thin and pale, full of pain and fear.

The woman with the veiled face came towards me slowly. Marian Halcombe sank to her knees, murmuring, 'Oh God, help him! Please, please help him, God!'

The veiled woman came on, slowly and silently. I looked at her — at her, and at no one else, from that moment. She had possession of me, body and soul. She stopped by the side of the gravestone, and we stood face to face with the grave between us.

'Oh God, help him, help him!'

The woman lifted her veil.

In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde...

Laura, Lady Glyde, was standing by the gravestone, looking at me over her grave.

*  *  *

A life suddenly changed. A new future before me, like the sunlit view from a mountain top. I leave my story in the quiet shadow of Limmeridge church, and begin again, one week later, in the noise and rush of a London street.

I have rented rooms under a different name. Marian and Laura, using the same name, are said to be my sisters. I earn our bread by doing drawings for cheap magazines. We employ no servant; my elder sister, Marian, does the housework with her own hands. Marian and I are known to be the friends of mad Anne Catherick (address unknown), who falsely claims the identity of Lady Glyde. To the rest of the world, Laura, Lady Glyde, is dead. Dead to her uncle, who has refused to recognize her; dead to the lawyers, who have passed her fortune to her husband and aunt.

But to Marian and me she is alive! Penniless and sadly changed — her beauty faded, her mind confused — but alive, with her poor drawing teacher to fight her battles and to win her way back to the world of living beings. She is mine at last — mine to support, to protect, to defend. And mine to love.


drown v. to kill by submerging and suffocating in liquid 淹死;溺死

strengthen v. make stronger 变得坚强

veil n. a piece of fabric attached to a woman's hat 面纱

earn one's bread earn one's living 维持生计

penniless adj. having no money 身无分文的

9.墓碑

1850年10月13日我离开中美洲的原始森林,回到了英国。我一次次逃过疾病、战争和洪水带来的死亡危险。我希望这些经历能够使我更加坚强地面对未来——没有劳拉的未来。在我心里她依然是劳拉·费尔利,我无法把她冠以她丈夫的姓氏。

我回来后的第一件事是到汉普斯特德看望母亲和妹妹。欢聚的快乐很快转化为悲伤。我没有任何秘密瞒着母亲,从她充满爱怜和同情的眼光里,我预感到最坏的事情发生了。

她们把消息告诉了我。我尽最大努力不让自己的悲哀破坏我回家带给母亲和妹妹的喜悦。但是,回来的第三天,我觉得必须一个人离开一段时间。

“让我到利默里奇去一趟吧,”我恳求着母亲,“看到她的坟墓,我可以更好地接受这一切。”

那是一个秋日的午后,天气很暖和,我到达目的地车站,走在熟悉的大路上,望着远处利默里奇庄园的白色高墙。在教堂墓地里,我找到了劳拉的墓,在她的墓碑前跪下来,闭上了双眼。

我的爱人我的爱人我最亲爱的人

几个小时过去了,落日的余辉在死者的安息地投下长长的影子。我跪在那里,完全没有了时间概念。这时,寂静中传来人走在草地上的脚步声。

我抬起头来。

不远处,教堂墓地的围墙边站着两个女人,面纱遮住了她们的脸。她们正朝墓地张望,正朝张望。

两个女人。

她们朝我走来。其中一个掀起了面纱,借着仅有的一点儿光线,我看出那是玛丽安·哈尔库姆小姐。她的脸变得跟从前不一样了:清瘦而苍白,充满了痛苦和恐惧。

头戴面纱的女人缓慢地向我走来。玛丽安·哈尔库姆跪下来,轻声说:“噢,上帝,帮帮他吧,帮帮他吧,上帝!”

头戴面纱的女人向我走来,缓慢地,无言地向我走来。我注视着她——目不转睛地久久注视着她。她占据了我的一切,我的灵魂和肉体。她在墓碑前停住脚步,我们隔着坟墓互相注视着。

“噢,上帝,帮帮他,帮帮他吧!”

那个女人掀起了面纱。

爱妻劳拉·格莱德夫人之墓……

劳拉·格莱德夫人,她就站在墓碑旁,隔着坟墓望着我。

alt

*  *  *

生活突然间变了。一个崭新的未来展现在我的面前,就像在山顶上看到的撒满阳光的景色。我把过去的故事留在了利默里奇教堂那寂静的阴影中,一星期后在喧闹、繁忙的伦敦开始了新的生活。

我换了一个姓氏租了房子。玛丽安和劳拉也用同样的姓氏,对外人就说是我的姐妹。我靠给廉价杂志画画维持生计。我们没有请仆人,我的姐姐,玛丽安亲自做家务。我和玛丽安对外就说是疯女人安妮·凯瑟里克(住址不详)的朋友,那疯女人总说自己是格莱德夫人。对世界上其他人来说,劳拉·格莱德夫人已经死了;对拒不承认她的叔叔,她已经死了;对把她的财产转给她丈夫和姑妈的律师,她也已经死了。

但是对于玛丽安和我,她还活着!她身无分文,人也变了——她的美丽在消逝,头脑一片混乱——但她还活着,她那可怜的绘画教师要为她奋争,使她重新回到真实的生活中来。她终于属于我了——由我供养、呵护、保护,由我所爱。

10
The rescue

At the first opportunity we had, Marian told me everything that had happened to her and Laura. The hardest part for her was after she had returned to Limmeridge House.

'I was in despair, Walter,' she said. 'Mr Kyrle's investigation was finished, and had shown nothing, he said. Mr Fairlie was no help at all — I heard that he didn't even leave his room to go to the funeral! But he did show me a letter he'd received from Count Fosco, which contained news of Anne Catherick. The Count said that Anne Catherick had been found and put back in the asylum from which she had escaped. But because she hated Sir Percival and wanted to make trouble for him, she was now claiming that she was not Anne Catherick at all, but Lady Glyde. The Count warned Mr Fairlie that if she escaped again, she might try to annoy members of Lady Glyde's family.

'I wasn't well enough to do anything for about a month after returning to Limmeridge, but when I felt stronger, I decided to make some investigations myself. First, I planned to visit the asylum in London and talk to poor Anne Catherick, to find out why she was claiming to be Laura. I knew the address because you had given it to me, all those months ago.

'Well, Walter, you can guess what's coming, I'm sure. The director of the asylum, who seemed an honest person, told me that Anne Catherick had been brought back on 27th July. He was puzzled by some odd personal changes in her, but assumed they were caused by her mental illness. He then called a nurse to take me to Anne Catherick, who was walking in the gardens.

'Imagine the shock, Walter — seeing my dead sister walking towards me in that garden! We just ran into each other's arms, unable to say a word. How the nurse stared at us!'

'I think I know how you must have felt,' I said. 'I shall never forget in the churchyard at Limmeridge... But tell me, however did you get Laura out of the asylum?'

'Bribery, Walter. I didn't want to risk a legal battle and all the delay that would involve, so I persuaded the nurse that a terrible mistake had been made and she would be doing a good thing in helping Anne Catherick escape. And I offered her £400. The plan went smoothly, and by early afternoon the next day Laura and I were on the train to Cumberland.'

'And Laura?' I asked. 'What actually happened on the day she left Blackwater Park and came to London?'

Marian sighed. 'Oh, Walter, it's not at all clear. Poor Laura's mind is so confused now that her memory of events is very unreliable. She can't even remember the date she left Blackwater. All she has been able to tell me is this. The Count met her at the station, and said that I was still in London and that he would take her to see me at once. She doesn't remember where the cab went, but it was clearly not to his house in St John's Wood. She was taken to a house in a narrow street, where people came and went, asking her questions she didn't understand. At this point the Count told her I was now very ill; she was so frightened by this news she nearly fainted. Someone then gave her a glass of water, which she said tasted odd — and after that she lost consciousness.'

'Poor, poor Laura,' I murmured.

'She woke up,' Marian continued, 'in the asylum, unable to leave, unable to make contact with the outside world. She was called by Anne Catherick's name and found she was wearing clothes with Anne Catherick's name on them. She was told Lady Glyde was dead and buried, and that she was Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick... Day in, day out, from 27th July to 15th October, she was made to feel that she was mad. It's hardly surprising her mind is so confused now.'

'And what happened at Limmeridge?' I asked.

Marian turned her face away. 'I can't bear to think about it,' she said. 'The worst part was taking Laura into Mr Fairlie's room. He looked straight into Laura's face and said, "My niece is buried in Limmeridge churchyard. I don't recognize this woman. Remove her from my house before I call on the law to protect me." Even the servants were doubtful about her identity, because she was so much changed and so confused by her experiences. Perhaps people would have been persuaded if we'd stayed longer, but I didn't dare risk it. At any minute the people from the asylum might come looking for us, so I decided to return to London at once and hide. Then, as we were passing the churchyard, Laura insisted on a last look at her mother's grave. And... well, that moment changed our three lives.'

'I think God was guiding Laura's footsteps,' I said.

How well I remember that day — that moment when Laura laid her poor head innocently and trustingly on my shoulder, and said, 'They have tried to make me forget everything, Walter, but I remember Marian, and I remember you.'

*  *  *

The plot against Laura was now clear. Anne Catherick had been taken into Count Fosco's house as Lady Glyde, and Lady Glyde had taken the dead woman's place in the asylum. It was also clear that the three of us could expect no mercy from Count Fosco and Sir Percival, who between them had gained £30,000 from the plot. They would do everything in their power to prevent their crime being discovered, and would hunt for their victim to separate her from her only friends — Marian and myself. This is why I had chosen a poor and crowded part of London to live in. It is easier to hide in a place where people are always coming and going.

Our life quickly took on a regular pattern — work, watching out for our enemies, and care of Laura, whom we surrounded with a gentle, protective love, helping her slowly but steadily to recover her balance of mind and her self-confidence.

Meanwhile, Marian and I began the battle. We studied the statements that Mr Kyrle had taken from witnesses — the doctor, and the servants and cook in Count Fosco's house. I obtained a copy of Lady Glyde's death certificate, and Marian wrote to Mrs Michelson, who replied, saying that she could not remember the exact date of Laura's departure from Blackwater Park. Nor could she remember when the letter announcing Laura's death, which was undated, had arrived from Madame Fosco.

I also arranged to visit Mr Kyrle, to ask for his help. After listening to my long explanation, the lawyer shook his head.

'My legal opinion, Mr Hartright, is that you won't win this case in a court of law. I accept, of course, that the identity of Lady Glyde as a living person is a proved fact to Miss Halcombe and yourself. But there is no evidence. If you could prove that the date on the death certificate was earlier than the date of Lady Glyde's journey to London, then you might have a case.'

As I left, he gave me a letter that had been delivered to him for Marian, and told me, in answer to my question, that Sir Percival Glyde had returned to London.

Outside in the street I soon noticed two men following me, and realized too late that the Count's spies must have been watching the lawyer's office, in the hope that Marian or I would go there. I went home by a very long route and managed to lose them, but it was a warning to me to be more careful.

Marian was very worried when I told her about the two men. Then I gave her the letter. She recognized the writing instantly.

'It's from Count Fosco.'


Dear and admirable woman, do not be afraid! Stay hidden, with your gentle companion, and nothing will happen to you. Challenge nothing, threaten nobody. Do not, I beg you, force me into action. If Mr Hartright returns to England, do not speak to him. If he crosses my path, he is a Lost man. F.


'Walter!' Marian said, her eyes flashing with anger. 'If ever the Count and Sir Percival are at your mercy and you must spare one of them, don't let it be the Count.'

'I'll keep this letter to remind me when the time comes,' I said. 'But tomorrow I will go to Blackwater, to try and find out the date of Laura's journey to London. It's the one weak point in their plot.'

'You mean that perhaps Laura did not leave for London until after the date on the death certificate?'

'Exactly. I think she left on 26th July. The Director of the asylum said she was taken there on the 27th. I doubt if they could have kept her drugged more than one night. We know from Mrs Michelson that Sir Percival left on the same day as Laura. I'll ask everyone in the village if they remember when he left.'

'And if that fails?'

'If that fails, Marian, I'll force a confession from Sir Percival. We have one weapon against him — his secret. Anne Catherick said that if his secret was known, it would ruin him. I intend to find out that secret. The woman in white, though dead in her grave, is still with us and is showing us the way!'


bribery n. persuading a person to act in one's favor by a gift of money or services 贿赂

unreliable adj. not liable 不可靠的

plot n. a conspiracy or secret plan esp. to achieve an unlawful end 阴谋

mercy n. kindness, pity, and willingness to forgive 仁慈

cross one's path meet sb by chance 与…偶然相遇

flash v. burst 闪烁

10.营救

我们刚一有机会交谈,玛丽安就把她和劳拉的遭遇从头到尾讲给我听。最令她难过的是回到利默里奇之后的经历。

“我太绝望了,沃尔特,”她说,“克尔先生的调查结束了,他说什么也没发现。费尔利先生一点儿忙也不帮——我听说他甚至都没离开他的房间去参加葬礼!不过他倒是把福斯科伯爵的信给了我,信里面有安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。伯爵说安妮·凯瑟里克已经找到了,被送回了原来的精神病院。但是,凯瑟里克因为痛恨珀西瓦尔爵士,想给他找麻烦,所以她现在自称不是安妮·凯瑟里克,而是格莱德夫人。伯爵提醒费尔利先生,假如她再逃出来,很可能要给格莱德夫人的家人添乱子。

“回来的头一个月,我身体虚弱,什么也干不了。后来身体恢复了,我决定亲自去调查。首先,我准备去伦敦的精神病院找可怜的安妮·凯瑟里克谈谈,弄清楚为什么她要自称是劳拉。我知道地址,是你几个月前给我的。

“噢,沃尔特,我相信你能猜到接下来发生的事情。精神病院的院长看上去是个正直的人,他告诉我,安妮·凯瑟里克是7月27日被送回来的。他对凯瑟里克身上的变化感到很困惑,但他推测是由于精神方面的疾病造成的。然后,他叫一名护士带我去见安妮·凯瑟里克,她正在花园散步。

“想象一下,当时我有多么震惊,沃尔特——我看到自己死去的妹妹在花园里朝我走来!我们跑向对方,紧紧地抱在一起,一句话也说不出来。护士不解地望着我们。”

“我很清楚你当时的心情,”我说,“我永远不会忘记在利默里奇教堂墓地……可是,你是怎么把劳拉救出精神病院的呢?”

“贿赂,沃尔特。我不想打官司,那样太冒险,也会耽误很长时间。所以,我对护士说,这里一定有严重的误会,如果她能帮助安妮·凯瑟里克逃走,就做了一件天大的好事。之后,我给了她400英镑。计划进行得很顺利,第二天刚过中午,我和劳拉就乘上了开往坎伯兰郡的火车。”

“那么,劳拉呢?”我问,“她离开布莱克沃特庄园到伦敦后,到底发生了什么?”

玛丽安叹了口气,“噢,沃尔特,现在还不清楚。可怜的劳拉思维很乱,她的记忆不可靠。她连离开布莱克沃特的日期都记不起来。她能告诉我的就是,伯爵在车站接她,告诉她我还在伦敦,他要带劳拉马上去见我。她不记得车往哪里走了,但是很明显不是去伯爵在圣约翰伍德的家。她被带进一条小巷里的一间房子,那里人来人往,问一些她听不懂的问题。这时,伯爵告诉她我病得很严重,她听了非常害怕,几乎昏了过去。接着有人给了她一杯水,她说水的味道很怪,之后她就失去了知觉。”

“可怜的劳拉。”我低声自语着。

“她醒来以后,”玛丽安接着说,“发现自己在精神病院里,既不能离开,也无法同外界接触。别人叫她安妮·凯瑟里克,她发现自己穿着有安妮·凯瑟里克名字的衣服。别人告诉她格莱德夫人已经死了,被安葬了,她就是安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克……一天又一天,从7月27日到10月15日,他们强迫她认为自己疯了。难怪现在她思维混乱。”

“在利默里奇发生了什么?”我问道。

玛丽安把头转向一侧。“我简直不忍心想在那儿发生的事情。”她回答,“最糟的就是我带劳拉走进费尔利先生的房间后,他紧盯着劳拉的脸说:‘我侄女已经埋在利默里奇教堂墓地了。我不认识这个女人。赶快带她出去,不然我要用法律来保护自己了。’仆人们也对劳拉的身份很怀疑,因为她变化太大了,她的经历也让她思绪异常混乱。也许我们逗留的时间长一些,大家会被说服,但是我不想冒这个险,因为精神病院的人随时都会来找我们,所以我决定马上回伦敦躲起来。当我们经过教堂的时候,劳拉坚持要最后再看一眼她母亲的坟墓。后来……嗯,那一刻改变了我们三个人的生活。”

“我想是上帝在引导着劳拉的脚步。”我说。

我清楚地记得那天——可怜的劳拉将头依偎在我的肩头,充满了纯洁与信任。她说:“他们想叫我忘掉一切,沃尔特,但我还记得玛丽安,我还记得。”

*  *  *

针对劳拉的阴谋现在已经清楚了。安妮·凯瑟里克被当作格莱德夫人带进了福斯科伯爵的家里,格莱德夫人在精神病院里取代了那个已经死了的女人的位置。还有一点也很明显,福斯科伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士是不会放过我们三个的。他们两人从这个阴谋中得到30,000英镑。他们会尽一切可能不让他们的罪行败露,也会极力追寻他们所陷害的人,并把她同她的朋友们——玛丽安和我——分开。这就是为什么我选择伦敦一处既贫穷又拥挤的地方住下来,因为在一个人来人往的地方比较容易躲藏。

我们的生活很快形成了一个较为固定的模式——工作,留意我们的敌人,照顾劳拉。我们细心地照顾她,保护她,帮助她慢慢地恢复正常的思维和自信心。

与此同时,玛丽安和我开始了紧张的调查。我们仔细研究克尔先生记录的证词——分别来自医生以及伯爵家的仆人和厨师。我弄到了一份格莱德夫人的死亡证明。玛丽安给米切尔森太太写信,米切尔森太太回信说记不清劳拉离开布莱克沃特庄园的确切日期了,也记不清福斯科夫人来信通知他们劳拉死讯的具体时间了,那封信没有注明日期。

我还安排与克尔先生见面,请求他的帮助。听我把前因后果一一讲完后,克尔先生摇了摇头。

“作为律师,哈特里特先生,我认为你不会赢得这场官司。当然我同意,你和哈尔库姆小姐可以证明格莱德夫人还活着,但是你没有证据。如果你能证明死亡证明上的时间比格莱德夫人去伦敦的时间,那你可能会赢这场官司。”

我要离开的时候,他交给我一封信,是要他转给玛丽安的。同时,他在回答我的提问时透露,珀西瓦尔爵士已经回到伦敦了。

在外面的街道上,我很快注意到有两个人在跟踪我。我这才意识到伯爵的人肯定一直在监视克尔先生的办公室,以防玛丽安和我会到那儿去。我绕远路回家,设法甩掉了跟踪我的人,但是这件事提醒我今后要更加小心。

我把两个人跟踪我的事告诉了玛丽安,她非常担心。我把那封信交给她,她马上就认出了写信人的笔迹。

“是福斯科伯爵写的。”


亲爱的、尊敬的女士,请不要害怕!继续同你温柔的伙伴藏好,你们就不会有事。不要试图做任何事情,不要给任何人带来威胁。我请求你们,不要强迫我采取行动。如果哈特里特先生回英国来,不要同他接触。假如他找我的麻烦,他就死定了。福斯科。


“沃尔特!”玛丽安眼里闪着愤怒的光,“如果伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士落到你的手里,而你又必须放过他们中的一个的话,一定不要放过伯爵。”

“我要留着这封信,让它到时候提醒我应该怎么做,”我说,“明天我要去一趟布莱克沃特,查一查劳拉去伦敦的日期。这是他们阴谋中的一个漏洞。”

“你是说劳拉可能是在死亡证明上的日期之后才去伦敦的?”

“没错。我想她是7月26日动身的。精神病院的院长说她是27日被送进去的。我怀疑他们是否能让劳拉昏迷超过一晚上的时间。米切尔森太太说,珀西瓦尔爵士是和劳拉同一天离开的。我要问村里的每一个人,是不是还记得珀西瓦尔爵士什么时候离开的。”

“如果这样不行呢?”

“如果不行的话,玛丽安,我就逼珀西瓦尔爵士认罪。我们用他的秘密对付他,安妮·凯瑟里克说如果他的秘密让人知道了,那他就完了。我想查出他的秘密来。那个白衣女人虽说已经死了,但是还同我们在一起,她会为我们引路的!”

11
The investigation

The story of my first enquiries in Hampshire is soon told. Not a single person in the village of Blackwater could remember exactly when Sir Percival Glyde had left. Even the gardener at the house could only say it was some time in the last ten days of July.

'So, on to the next plan,' I said to Marian back in London, 'which is to pursue the secret. I need to talk to Anne Catherick's mother, but first I must find out something about her from Mrs Clements, Anne's friend. But how do I find Mrs Clements?'

Marian had the answer to that. 'You remember the farm she and Anne stayed at near Limmeridge? We'll write to them — they might know Mrs Clements' address.'

We were lucky. The farmer's wife did know the address, and wrote back by return to tell us. It was in London, not far from our rooms, and the next morning I was knocking at the door.

Mrs Clements was anxious to know if I had brought her any news of Anne, and very sad to learn that I had not. However, she was willing to tell me everything she knew.

'After leaving Limmeridge, sir,' she said, 'Anne and I went to live in the northeast of England, and that's when Anne started to suffer from heart disease. She wasn't at all well, but she insisted on travelling to Hampshire, because she wanted to speak to Lady Glyde. So we went there and stayed in a village near Blackwater — not too close as Anne was so frightened of Sir Percival.

'Each time Anne went to the lake to try to speak to Lady Glyde, I followed her at a distance. But the long walks made her so exhausted that she became ill again, so finally I went to the lake in her place to meet Lady Glyde. She didn't come that day, but a very fat man came instead with a message from her. The message was that we should return to London immediately, as Sir Percival would certainly find us if we stayed longer. Lady Glyde was going to London herself very soon and if we sent her our address, she would contact us.'

'But she didn't, did she?' I said, thinking how cleverly Count Fosco had lied to this kind woman.

'No, sir. I found lodgings and sent the address to Lady Glyde, but after two weeks we'd still heard nothing. Then one day a lady called in a cab. She said she came from Lady Glyde, who was staying at a hotel and wanted to arrange an interview with Anne. I agreed to go with this lady to make the arrangement, leaving Anne alone in our lodgings. But it was a wicked plot, sir. On the way the lady stopped the cab, saying she just had to collect something from a shop and would I wait for a few minutes. She never came back, sir. I waited for some time, and then I hurried home — and found Anne gone. Just disappeared.'

I asked Mrs Clements to describe this 'lady', and it seemed clear from her description that it was Madame Fosco. So I now knew how the Count had got Anne Catherick to London and separated her from Mrs Clements.

'I never found out what happened to Anne,' Mrs Clements said sadly. 'I made enquiries. I even wrote to her mother, but she didn't know anything. I miss poor Anne so much. She was like a daughter to me, you see, sir.'

'And I'm sure you were a kind mother to her,' I said. 'A better mother than her own mother.'

'That wasn't difficult,' said Mrs Clements. 'Mrs Catherick is a hard woman. She seemed to hate the child, and was only too pleased when I offered to bring her up. Then one day she took Anne to Limmeridge to stay with a sister, and after that she kept Anne from me. I didn't see Anne again till she escaped from the asylum — with your help, sir. And then she was always talking about a secret her mother had which could ruin Sir Percival. But you know, sir, I don't think Anne really knew what this secret was. If she had known, I'm sure she would have told me.'

I had wondered about that myself, and now I tried to turn the conversation on to Mrs Catherick.

'Did you know Mrs Catherick before Anne was born?'

'Yes, for about four months. We were neighbours in Welmingham. Mr and Mrs Catherick had just got married, and Mr Catherick had a job as clerk at Welmingham church. Before that, Mrs Catherick had been a servant at a large house. She was a selfish, heartless woman, and treated her poor husband very badly. Before long, there was a lot of talk about her and a young gentleman, who was staying at a hotel nearby. And Mr Catherick told my husband that he'd found expensive presents, gold rings and suchlike, hidden in his wife's drawer.'

'And who was this gentleman?' I asked.

'You know him, sir. And so did my poor dear Anne.'

'Sir Percival Glyde?' My heart began to beat faster. Was I getting close to the secret?

'That's right. His father had recently died abroad, and Sir Percival had just arrived in the neighbourhood. People thought, you see, that maybe Mrs Catherick had known Sir Percival before, and had married Mr Catherick just to save her reputation, because of, well, you know... Anyway, one night Mr Catherick found his wife whispering with Sir Percival outside the vestry of the church. They had a fight, but Sir Percival beat him and Mr Catherick left the village, never to return again. And in spite of all the talk in the village, Mrs Catherick stayed. She said she was innocent and that no one would drive her away. But most people thought that the money she lived on came from Sir Percival.'

The secret was here somewhere. But where? That Sir Percival was Anne's father was hardly a secret since everyone already thought that. No, there was another mystery somewhere.

'And what did you think, Mrs Clements?'

'Well, sir, if you worked out time and place, it was obvious that Mr Catherick wasn't Anne's father. But Anne wasn't at all like Sir Percival; and nor was she like her mother.'

I wondered about the house where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Perhaps I would make some enquiries later.

'You've been very kind, Mrs Clements,' I said, 'answering all my questions. One last request. Will you tell me Mrs Catherick's address? I have to find out this secret, and only she can tell me.'

Mrs Clements gave me the address, but shook her head. 'Take care, sir. She's an awful woman. You don't know her as I do.'

*  *  *

Back at our rooms I announced my intention to Marian of going to Welmingham. She was very uneasy about the plan.

'Are you sure it's wise, Walter? Sir Percival is a violent man.'

'I'm more afraid for you and Laura,' I said, 'left alone in London, with the Count as your enemy.'

We arranged to write to each other every day; and if no letter came from her, I would take the first train back to London.

*  *  *

Three days later I was standing in Mrs Catherick's sitting room, face to face with a grey-haired woman, dressed in black silk. Her dark eyes looked straight at me with a hard, cold stare.

'You say you have come to speak to me about my daughter,' she said. 'Please say what you have to say.'

Her voice was as hard as the expression in her eyes. She pointed to a chair, and looked at me carefully as I sat down.

'You know,' I said, 'that your daughter is lost?'

'I know that perfectly well.'

'Don't you worry that she might not be just lost, but that she might have met with her death?'

'Yes. Have you come to tell me that she is dead?'

'I have.'

'Why?'

She asked that extraordinary question without the slightest change in her voice, face, or manner. I might have been talking about the death of a cat in the street.

'I thought Anne's mother might be interested in knowing if she was alive or dead.'

'Just so,' she said. 'But what is your interest in her, or in me? Have you no other reason for coming here?'

'Yes, I do,' I said. 'Your daughter's death has caused someone I love to be harmed — by a man called Sir Percival Glyde.'

She did not react at all at the mention of his name.

'I want to make him confess to his crime. You know certain things about him from the time when your husband was the church clerk. I want you to tell me about them.'

At last I saw the anger burning in her eyes.

'What do you know about those events?'

'Everything that Mrs Clements could tell me.'

'Mrs Clements is a foolish woman.' She bit back her anger, and her lips curled in an unpleasant little smile. 'Ah, I begin to understand. You want your revenge on Sir Percival Glyde, and you want my help. That's why you've come here. Well, you don't know me. I've spent years getting back my reputation in this village. Now everyone respects me. I won't help you.'

'If you're afraid of Sir Percival, that's quite understandable,' I said. 'He's a powerful man, and comes from a great family —'

To my amazement, she suddenly burst out laughing.

'From a great family! Yes, indeed! Especially from his mother's side,' she said with disgust.

Whatever did she mean by that, I wondered?

'The secret between you and Sir Percival was not guilty love,' I insisted. 'It was something else that brought you and him to those stolen meetings outside the vestry of the church.'

As I said the words 'vestry of the church', I saw a wave of terror pass across her face.

'Go!' she said. 'And never come back. Unless' — and she gave a slow, cruel smile — 'unless you bring news of his death.'

*  *  *

It was now late, and I made my way to the nearest hotel. There was much to think about. Why should mention of the church vestry cause terror? Why the disgust at Sir Percival's family, especially his mother? Was there something unusual about his parents' marriage? Perhaps the local marriage register was kept in the vestry of Welmingham church...

The next day I went to the church. I had been aware of being followed the previous evening, and now I caught sight of the same two men I had seen outside Mr Kyrle's office in London. It seemed that Sir Percival had expected me to visit Mrs Catherick, and was now expecting me to visit Welmingham church — proof, surely, that my investigation was going in the right direction.

I found the church clerk, who fetched his keys and took me to the vestry. It could only be entered from the outside of the church, and the clerk had great difficulty opening the lock, which was very old. Once inside, I asked to see the marriage register. It was kept in a cupboard which could easily be forced open.

'Is that a safe enough place to keep the register?' I said.

'Safe enough,' the clerk said. 'A copy is kept by a lawyer in the next village — Mr Wansborough's office in Knowlesbury.'

I worked backwards in the register from Sir Percival's year of birth and there, under September of the previous year, squashed into a small space at the bottom of the page, was the record of the marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster of Knowlesbury. Just the usual information. Nothing apparently peculiar about Sir Percival's mother. The secret seemed further away than ever.

But on to Knowlesbury, and Mr Wansborough's office — a five-mile walk, but possible to get there and back by the end of the day. It was worth checking the copy of the register, and perhaps the lawyer would know something that might be useful.


pursue v. continue to investigate 继续调查

lodgings n. rooms rented for lodging in 租用的房子

bring up raise 抚养

heartless adj. unfeeling, pitiless 无情的

vestry n. a room or building attached to a church for keeping vestments in 教堂的法衣室

react v. undergo a change or show behaviour due to some influence 反应

bite back restrain 克制

burst out suddenly begin 突然做……

disgust n. strong aversion 不屑

make one's way to go to 到……去

catch sight of see, find 看到

11.调查

下面是我在汉普郡初步调查的情况。布莱克沃特村没有一个人记得珀西瓦尔爵士离开的确切时间。园丁也仅仅记得大概是7月下旬。

“那么,开始下一步行动吧,”回到伦敦我对玛丽安说,“查出那个秘密来。我需要找到安妮·凯瑟里克的母亲,但我必须首先找到安妮的朋友克莱门茨太太,从她那里了解一些情况。可怎么才能找到克莱门茨太太?”

玛丽安想出了办法:“还记得克莱门茨太太和安妮在利默里奇附近住过的农场吗?我们给他们写信,也许他们知道克莱门茨太太的地址。”

我们很幸运,农场主的妻子真的知道地址,她回信告诉了我们。她就住在伦敦,离我们住的地方不远。第二天上午,我就找到了那个地方,敲响了房门。

克莱门茨太太急切地想知道我是否带来了安妮的消息,当我告诉她没有的时候,她非常难过。不过,她愿意把她知道的一切都告诉我。

“离开利默里奇以后,先生,”她对我说,“安妮和我去了英国东北部,这个时候安妮得了心脏病。她身体很不好,但她坚持到汉普郡去见格莱德夫人。所以我们就去了那儿,住在布莱克沃特附近的一个村子里——那地方离布莱克沃特不是很近,因为安妮非常害怕珀西瓦尔爵士。

“每一次安妮到湖边去见格莱德夫人,我都在远处跟着她。但是走那么远的路让她非常疲劳,结果她又病了。最后我代替她到湖边去见格莱德夫人。那天格莱德夫人没有来,来的是一个很胖的男人,他捎来了格莱德夫人的口信,让我们赶快回伦敦,因为如果在这里呆久了,珀西瓦尔爵士肯定会发现我们。格莱德夫人自己很快也会到伦敦去,如果我们把地址给她,她会跟我们联系。”

“但是她没跟你们联系,对吗?”我问,心想伯爵对这个善良的女人说的谎真是高明啊。

“没错,先生。我找到了住处,把地址寄给了格莱德夫人,可是两个星期过去了,我们没收到任何回音。后来,有一天一位夫人乘马车到这里来。她说她从格莱德夫人那儿来,格莱德夫人住在一家旅店,想安排同安妮见面。我答应同那位夫人去安排见面的事,把安妮一个人留在住处。可这是个恶毒的阴谋,先生。走到半路,那位夫人说要去商店取点儿东西,让我等几分钟。她去了就再没回来,先生。我等了好一阵子,然后赶忙回家——回来后却发现安妮不见了。就这么消失了。”

我让克莱门茨太太描述一下那位“夫人”的样子,根据她的描述,那人很显然是福斯科夫人。现在我明白伯爵是怎么把安妮·凯瑟里克弄到伦敦,又怎么把她和克莱门茨太太分开的了。

“我不知道安妮到底出了什么事,”克莱门茨太太伤心地说,“我调查过,甚至给她母亲写过信,但是她什么也不知道。我现在非常想念可怜的安妮。你知道,她就像我的女儿一样,先生。”

“我相信你是她的好母亲,”我说,“比她的亲生母亲还要亲。”

“那倒没什么难的,”克莱门茨太太说,“凯瑟里克太太是一个铁石心肠的女人。她好像仇视这个孩子,我提出抚养这孩子时,她非常高兴。后来有一天她把安妮带到利默里奇同她的妹妹住在一起。再后来,她就不让我见安妮了。安妮从精神病院逃出来之前,我就再没见到过她。她逃出来还是你帮的忙呢,先生。从那以后,她—直说她母亲知道一个秘密,那秘密会毁了珀西瓦尔爵士。但是,先生,我觉得安妮并不真的知道那个秘密。如果她真的知道,我相信她早就告诉我了。”

我自己也想过这个问题。但是,现在我努力把话题转向凯瑟里克太太。

“安妮出生前,你就认识凯瑟里克太太吗?”

“认识,大概有四个月的时间。我们在韦明翰是邻居。当时凯瑟里克夫妇刚刚结婚,凯瑟里克先生在韦明翰教堂当职员。结婚前,凯瑟里克太太在一个大户人家当仆人。她是一个自私、狠心的女人,对她可怜的丈夫非常不好。不久,关于她和住在附近旅店的一个年轻人有了很多风言风语。凯瑟里克先生对我丈夫说,他发现他妻子的抽屉里藏着许多贵重礼物,金戒指什么的。”

“那个年轻人是谁?”我问。

“你认识他,先生。我可怜的安妮也认识他。”

“珀西瓦尔爵士?”我的心跳开始加速。我是不是接近那个秘密了?

“就是他。他父亲那时在国外去世,珀西瓦尔爵士刚刚到这里来。大家都说很可能凯瑟里克太太早就认识珀西瓦尔爵士,她和凯瑟里克先生结婚就是想挽救自己的名声,因为,嗯,你知道……不管怎样,一天晚上,凯瑟里克先生看到他妻子和珀西瓦尔爵士在教堂的法衣室外窃窃私语。他们打了起来。珀西瓦尔爵士打了他。之后,凯瑟里克先生就离开了那个村子,再也没回来。尽管村子里流言满天飞,凯瑟里克太太还是一直住在那里。”她说自己是清白的,谁也赶不走她。不过大多数人都认为她是靠珀西瓦尔爵士的钱维持生活的。”

秘密就在这里。可是到底是什么呢?珀西瓦尔爵士是安妮的父亲,这已经不是什么秘密了,大家早就这么想了。不对,这里一定还有隐情。

“那你怎么看,克莱门茨太太?”

“嗯,如果从时间和地点来看,很明显凯瑟里克先生不是安妮的父亲。但是,安妮一点儿也不像珀西瓦尔爵士,也不像她母亲。”

我想到凯瑟里克太太当仆人的那家,也许什么时候我可以到那儿调查一下。

“真是太谢谢了,克莱门茨太太,”我说,“你回答了我那么多问题。最后我还有个请求,你能告诉我凯瑟里克太太的地址吗?我必须查清楚这个秘密,只有她可以告诉我。”

克莱门茨太太把地址给了我,但是摇了摇头,“你要小心,先生。她是一个很可怕的女人,你没有我了解她。”

*  *  *

回到住处,我把要去韦明翰的想法告诉了玛丽安,她非常担优。

“你觉得这样好吗,沃尔特?珀西瓦尔爵士是个心狠手辣的人。”

“我更担心的是你和劳拉,”我说,“就你们两个留在伦敦,还要对付伯爵。”

我们商量好每天都互相写信,如果没有收到玛丽安的来信,我就搭乘最早的一班火车回伦敦来。

*  *  *

三天后,我已经站在凯瑟里克太太的客厅里了。我面前是一个头发灰白的女人,穿着黑色绸衣。她的一双黑眼睛冷冷地盯着我。

“你说你来跟我谈我女儿的事,”她开口说,“有什么话就请讲吧。”

她的声音像她的眼神一样冷。她指了指一把椅子,我坐下以后,她开始仔细地打量我。

“你知道,”我说,“你女儿失踪了吗?”

“我非常清楚。”

“难道你不担心她可能不光是失踪了,有可能她已经死了?”

“我想过。那你是来告诉我,她已经死了?”

“是的。”

“为什么?”

提出这样荒谬的问题,她的声音、表情和举止居然没有任何变化,就好像我刚才谈的是街上死了一只猫。

“我原以为安妮的母亲会关心她的生死。”

“就为了这个啊,”她说,“但是你为什么对她或我感兴趣呢?你到这里来没有其他原因?”

“有,”我回答,“你女儿的死使我所爱的人受到了伤害——是一个叫珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士的人干的。”

我提到了珀西瓦尔的名字,她一点儿反应都没有。

“我要让他承认他所犯下的罪行,你丈夫在教堂当职员的时候,你就知道了他的一些事,我希望你把所知道的告诉我。”

我终于在她眼里看到了愤怒的目光。

“你是怎么知道这些事的?”

“克莱门茨太太把她知道的都告诉我了。”

“克莱门茨太太是个愚蠢的女人。”她压下怒火,双唇勾起一丝恶意的微笑。“呵,我开始懂了。要向珀西瓦尔爵士报仇,需要帮忙。这就是你来这里的原因。你不了解我。我在这个村子住了这么多年,才挽回我的名誉。现在大家都很尊敬我,我不会帮你的。”

“如果你害怕珀西瓦尔爵士,那是可以理解的,”我说,“他是个有权势的人,出身名门——”

令我吃惊的是,她突然大笑起来。

“出身名门!是,没错!尤其是他母亲那一边。”她不屑地说。

她这话是什么意思?我不明白。

“你和他之间的秘密不是什么婚外情,”我接着说,“是别的事情使得你们在教堂的法衣室外秘密见面。”

在提到“教堂的法衣室”时,我注意到她的脸上掠过一阵恐惧。

“滚出去!”她大声喊着,“再也不要回来。除非”——她脸上慢慢露出残忍的笑意——“除非你来告诉我他死了。”

*  *  *

天色已晚,我朝最近的旅店走去。有许多问题需要思考。为什么提到教堂的法衣室她就害怕了?为什么她瞧不起珀西瓦尔爵士的家庭,特别是他的母亲?难道他父母的婚姻有什么特别的地方?也许当地的婚姻登记记录就存放在韦明翰教堂的法衣室……

第二天我去了教堂。我已经注意到前一天晚上有人跟踪我,这会儿我又看到在伦敦克尔先生办公室外见到的那两个人在跟着我。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士已经料到我要来见凯瑟里克太太,现在又料到我来韦明翰教堂——这些恰好证明我的调查方向是正确的。

我找到了教堂职员,他找来钥匙,带我来到教堂的法衣室。法衣室只能从教堂外面进去,职员费了好大劲儿才打开那把旧锁。进去以后,我说要看看婚姻登记记录。那些记录放在一个柜子里,柜子的门很容易被撬开。

“婚姻登记记录放在这里安全吗?”我问。

“很安全,”职员回答,“另一个副本存放在邻村的律师那里,就是万斯伯勒先生的办公室,在诺雷斯伯里。”

我从珀西瓦尔爵士出生那年的记录开始往前面查,在前一年的9月,有一页在靠下的角落里记着费利克斯·格莱德爵士和诺雷斯伯里的塞西莉亚结婚。只是非常一般的记录,看不出珀西瓦尔爵士的母亲有什么特殊的地方。秘密好像比以前离我更远了。

接下来,我奔赴诺雷斯伯里万斯伯勒先生的办公室——大约有5英里的路程,但是在天黑前赶回来还是可能的。很有必要查看一下记录的副本,也许律师会知道一些有用的信息。

12
The secret

Sir Percival's spies attacked me on the road to Knowlesbury. One of them came up beside me, and bumped into me with his shoulder. I pushed him away, hard, and he immediately shouted for help. The other man ran up and the two of them held me between them. The first man accused me of attacking him, and they said they would take me to the police station in the town.

What could I do? I couldn't fight both of them and hope to get away, so I had to go with them.

At the police station the first man accused me of a violent attack, and the second man said he was a witness. I was locked up until the next magistrate's court, which was three days away. I could be released on bail, I was told, but how could I, a total stranger in the town, find a responsible person willing to pay money for my temporary freedom? The whole plan was now clear — to get me out of the way for three days, while Sir Percival did whatever was necessary to prevent his secret being discovered.

At first I was too angry to think clearly. Then I remembered Mr Dawson, the doctor. I had been to his house on my previous visit to Blackwater, so I knew his address. I wrote him a letter, explaining what had happened and begging for his help, and then asked for a messenger to deliver it. Two hours later the good doctor appeared, paid the required money and I was set free.

There was no time to lose. The news of my being free would doubtless reach Sir Percival within hours. I hurried to the lawyer's office, where I asked if I could see the copy of the Welmingham marriage register. Mr Wansborough was a pleasant man and agreed to show me the copy. In fact, he was quite amused. No one had asked to see it since his father (now dead) had locked it away in the office more than twenty years before.

As I opened the register, my hands trembled. I turned the pages to the year and month. I found the names I remembered just before, and just after, the marriage of Sir Percival's parents. And between these entries, at the bottom of the page...?

Nothing! The marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster was not there! I looked again, to be sure. No, nothing. Not a doubt about it. Sir Percival must have seen the space in the Welmingham register and written in the marriage himself.

I had never once suspected this. He was not Sir Percival Glyde at all! His parents had not been married, so he had no right to the inheritance of Blackwater Park, no right to the rank of Baronet, no right even to the name of Glyde! This was his secret — and it was now mine to use against him!

The copy of the register would be safe enough in the lawyer's office, but I decided to go back to Welmingham and make a copy of the false record from the church register. It was dark now and I ran all the way to the church clerk's house. I knocked on his door, but when he appeared, he looked suspicious and confused.

'Where are the keys?' he asked. 'Have you taken them?'

'What keys do you mean?' I said. 'I've just this minute arrived from Knowlesbury.'

'The keys of the vestry,' he said. 'The keys are gone! Someone's broken in and taken the keys.'

'Get a light,' I said, 'and let's go to the vestry. Quick!'

We ran to the church. On the path we passed a man who looked at us with frightened eyes. He seemed to be a servant of some kind. We did not stop to question him, but ran on.

As we came in sight of the vestry, I saw a high window brilliantly lit from within. There was a strange smell on the night air, a sound of cracking wood, and the light grew brighter and brighter. I ran to the door and put my hand on it. The vestry was on fire!

I heard the key working violently in the lock — I heard a man's voice behind the door, raised in terror, screaming for help.

'Oh, my God!' said the servant, who had followed us, 'it's Sir Percival!'

'God help him!' said the clerk. 'He's damaged the lock.'

*  *  *

At that moment I forget the man's crimes and see only the horror of his situation. Several people are now running towards the church and I call to them to help me break down the door. We look desperately for something to use, and at last someone finds a long heavy piece of wood.

By now the flames are shooting up out of the window, and the screams have stopped. We get the wood into position and run at the door with it. Again, and again! At last the door crashes down, but a wave of heat hits our faces and drives us back — and in the room we see nothing but a sheet of living fire.

*  *  *

The church itself was saved as the fire engine arrived soon afterwards and managed to put out the fire before it spread. They carried out the body of Sir Percival Glyde and laid it on the wet ground. I looked down on his dead face and this was how, for the first and last time, I saw him.

He must have heard that I was free and on my way back to Welmingham, so he hurried to the church, stealing the keys and locking himself in to prevent anyone coming in and finding him. All he could do was tear the page out of the register and destroy it. If the false record no longer existed, I could produce no evidence to threaten him with. He must have dropped his lamp by accident, which started the fire. Then in his urgency to get out, the lock had become damaged and the key unmoveable.

I could not leave the town. There would be a legal enquiry into the accident the next day, which I had to attend, and in any case I had to report back to the police station in Knowlesbury. I returned to the hotel and wrote to Marian, telling her everything that had happened and warning her to keep the news from Laura for the moment. With Sir Percival's death, my hopes of establishing Laura's identity had also died, and I could see no way forward at present.

The next day an envelope with my name on was delivered to the hotel. The letter inside was neither dated nor signed, but before I had read the first sentence, I knew who had written it — Mrs Catherick.


Sir — I thought you were my enemy. Now that he is dead, because of you, I consider you my friend. To thank you for what you have done, I will now tell you the things you wanted to know about my private life.

Twenty-three years ago I was a beautiful young woman living in Welmingham, married to a fool of a husband. I also knew a gentleman — I shall not call him by his name. Why should I? It was not his own. I was born with expensive tastes. This man gave me expensive presents. Naturally he wanted something in return — all men do. And what did he want? Just a little thing. The key to the church vestry, when my husband's back was turned. I liked my presents, so I got him the key. I watched him in the vestry without his knowing, and saw what he was doing. I did not know then how serious a crime it was. I said I would not tell anyone about the marriage he had added to the register if he told me about his private life. He agreed — why, you will see in a moment.

He said that he only found out that his parents were not married after his mother's death. His father confessed to it and promised to do what he could for his son. But he died having done nothing. The son came to England and took possession of the property. There was no one to say he could not. In fact, the right person to claim the property was a distant relation away at sea. However, to borrow money on the property, he needed a certificate of his parents' marriage. This was a problem — a problem which brought him to Welmingham.

As his parents had mostly lived abroad and had had no social life in England, who was to say (the priest being dead) that a private marriage had not taken place at Welmingham church? His plan was to tear out a page from the marriage register in the year before his birth and destroy it. Then he would tell his lawyers in London to get the necessary certificate, innocently referring them to the date on the page that was gone. At least no one could say that his parents were not married.

However, when he saw there was a small space at the bottom of the page in the right year, he changed his plan and took the opportunity to write in the marriage himself. It took him some time, though, to practise the handwriting and to mix the right colour of ink, so that it looked the same.

After my husband caught me talking secretly to him and after their fight together, I asked my fine gentleman to clear my name and to say there had been nothing between us. But he refused. He wanted everyone to believe something false, so that they would never suspect the truth. He then told me that the punishment for his crime, and anyone who helped him, was life in prison. He frightened me! If I spoke out, I was just as lost as he was. He then agreed to make me a yearly payment if I said nothing and stayed in Welmingham, where he could always find me and where there was no danger of my making friends and talking. This was hard, but I accepted.

Many years later, when my daughter was with me at home, I received a letter from him which made me very angry. I lost control of myself and said, in her presence, that 'I could destroy him if I let out his secret'. Then one day he came to our house and called her a fool. Immediately she shouted, 'Ask for my pardon, now, or I'll let out your secret and destroy your life. 'My own words! He went white. Then he swore at us. It ended, as you know, by his shutting her up in an asylum. I tried to tell him she knew nothing. But he did not believe me. My daughter knew that she had frightened him and that he was responsible for shutting her up because he believed she knew his secret. That's why she hated him. But she never to her dying day knew what his secret actually was.

I will end by saying that you insult me if you think my husband was not my daughter's father. Please do not ask further questions about that. To protect myself, I mention no names in this letter, nor do I sign it.


magistrate n. an official conducting a court for minor cases 法官

bail n. money left with a court of law to prove that a prisoner will return when their trial starts 保释金

entry n. an item 条目

brilliantly adv. very brightly 非常亮

produce v. bring forward for consideration or inspection 拿出

12.秘密

在去往诺雷斯伯里的路上,珀西瓦尔爵士的人向我发起了攻击。其中一个走到我旁边,用肩膀撞我。我用力把他推开,他马上大喊起来。另一个人跑过来,他们两个把我夹在了中间。第一个人指责我打他,他们说要把我带到镇上的警察局去。

我能怎么办呢?我没办法打倒他们两个再逃走,现在只得跟他们走了。

到了警察局,第一个人说我打他,另一个人说他是证人。我被关了起来,等着三天后法官开庭审理。他们告诉我可以保释,可是我在这里一个人也不认识,怎么可能找到一个愿意负责的人出钱让我获得暂时的自由呢?他们的整个计划很清楚——让我消失三天,珀西瓦尔爵士就利用这段时间尽一切可能保证他的秘密不被发现。

刚开始,我非常气愤,头脑中一片混乱。后来我想起了道森先生,那位医生。上一次我去布莱克沃特的时候到过他家,所以我知道他的地址。我给他写了封信,告诉他出了什么事,请求他来帮我,然后找了一个送信的帮我把信送走。两个小时后,好心的医生来了,为我交了保释金,我自由了。

必须抓紧时间,因为我被释放的消息肯定几个小时之内就会传到珀西瓦尔爵士那里。我赶到律师的办公室,请求看一下韦明翰的结婚登记记录。万斯伯勒先生是个和气的人,他同意让我看副本。其实,应该说他很高兴,因为自从他父亲(现在已经去世了)20多年前把文件锁在办公室后,从未有人要求查看过。

我翻开记录副本的时候双手在颤抖。我找到了珀西瓦尔爵士父母结婚的年份和月份,以及在他们之前和之后结婚的男女方姓名记录。但是,在这些条目之间,在那一页的底下……?

什么也没有!费利克斯·格莱德爵士和塞西莉亚·埃尔斯特的婚姻根本就没有记录!为了保险起见,我又看了一遍。没有,什么也没有,毫无疑问。珀西瓦尔爵士可能在韦明翰的记录中看到了那个空白,然后自己填上了那条记录。

我从未怀疑到这一点。他根本就不是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士,他的父母没有结婚,他根本没有权利继承布莱克沃特庄园和爵位,甚至根本无权姓格莱德!这就是他的秘密——现在我要利用这个秘密来对付他!

婚姻登记的副本放在律师的办公室很安全,我决定返回韦明翰,复制一份教堂的假记录。天已经黑了,我一路跑到教堂职员的住处。我敲了门,职员出来的时候,脸上布满了疑虑。

“钥匙在哪儿?”他问我,“你把钥匙拿走了吗?”

“什么钥匙?”我说,“我刚从诺雷斯伯里过来。”

“法衣室的钥匙,”他说,“钥匙不见了!有人进来偷走了钥匙。”

“拿上灯,”我说,“我们去法衣室,快!”

我们向教堂跑去。路上碰见一个人,似乎是个仆人,他惊慌地看了看我们。我们没有停下来问他任何问题,而是继续向前跑。

当我们看到法衣室的时候,我发现从一个高处的窗户里发出很亮的光,夜晚的空气中有一股奇怪的味道,可以听到木头劈啪作响的声音,那光变得越来越亮。我跑到法衣室的门口,用手摸了摸门。法衣室起火了!

我听到钥匙在锁里使劲转动的声音——我听到门后有人害怕地高声喊救命。

“噢,上帝!”跟着我们跑过来的仆人说,“是珀西瓦尔爵士!”

“上帝啊,救救他!”职员说,“他把锁弄坏了。”

alt

*  *  *

这个时候,我忘记了这个人的罪恶,只想到他现在的危急处境。有几个人正朝教堂跑过来,我叫他们帮我把门弄开。我们到处找能弄开门的东西,最后有人找来一根很粗的长木头。

这时,火焰已经窜出了窗户,呼叫声已听不见了。我们抬着长木头,一次又一次朝门撞过去。最后门被撞倒了,热浪从屋里冲出来,使我们不得不往后退去——屋里除了一团火什么也看不见。

*  *  *

救火车很快赶到,没等火势蔓延就把火扑灭了,教堂本身没有受到破坏。人们把珀西瓦尔爵士的尸体抬了出来,放在潮湿的地上。我看了看他的脸,这是我第一次也是最后一次看到他。

他一定是听说我被放出来,而且正赶回韦明翰,所以急忙赶到教堂,偷了钥匙,把自己锁在屋子里,不让任何人进去发现他。他唯一能做的就是把那一页从登记簿上撕下来销毁。如果假记录没有了,我就拿不出证据来威胁他。他可能不小心把灯掉到地上,引起了大火。然后,他急着要出来,匆忙中弄坏了锁,钥匙转不动了。

我现在还不能离开这里。转天会有一个事故的法律调查,我必须参加。而且不管怎样,我还得向诺雷斯伯里的警察局报到。我回到旅店,写信给玛丽安,告诉她这里发生的事情,提醒她先不要把这个消息告诉劳拉。珀西瓦尔爵士死了,我证明劳拉身份的希望也不复存在,现在我不知下一步该怎么办。

第二天,一个写着我名字的信封被送到了旅店。里面的信既没有日期,也没有署名。但是还没看完第一句,我就知道是谁写的信了——凯瑟里克太太。

先生——我原以为你是我的敌人。现在因为你,他已经死了,我认为你是我的朋友。为感谢你的所作所为,我现在把你想知道的我的私事告诉你。

23年前,我是一个年轻漂亮的姑娘,住在韦明翰,嫁给了一位傻乎乎的丈夫。我还结识了一位绅士——我不会称呼他的名字。为什么要那样叫他?那不是他的名字。我生来就喜欢贵重的东西,这个人送给我许多贵重礼物,当然他是需要回报的——男人都是这样。这个男人要的是什么?很简单的一样东西。教堂法衣室的钥匙,当然要趁我丈夫不在的时候。我喜欢那些礼物,所以给他弄到了钥匙。我盯着他,看他在法衣室干什么,他并没发觉。当时我不知道那是多么严重的罪行。我跟他说,要是他告诉我他的私事,我不会告诉任何人他擅自增加结婚记录的事。他答应了——至于为什么,你往下看就明白了。

他说在他母亲死后,他才知道他的父母并没有结婚。他父亲承认了这件事,答应尽力为他儿子做些什么。可是他什么都没来得及做,就死去了。他的儿子来到英国继承了遗产。没人说他不能继承,实际上,真正应该继承遗产的是一个正在出海的远亲。然而,要想用那笔财产去借钱,他需要一份父母的结婚证明。这是个问题,为解决这个问题,他来到了韦明翰。

因为他父母大部分时间生活在国外,在英国没什么交际,所以谁会说(牧师已经死了)韦明翰教堂没举行过一场私下的婚礼呢?他的计划是把他出生前那一年的婚姻登记页撕下来销毁。然后,他就会告诉伦敦的律师们去取必要的证明文件,并假装不知情地把那个已经不存在的登记页上的日期告诉他们。至少谁也不会说他父母没结婚。

但是,他发现那年的登记页上靠下面有一点空白,于是改变了主意,趁机把他父母的婚姻写了进去。当然,他也颇费了些时间去模仿登记用的笔迹,还有配制合适的墨水颜色,让这条记录看起来跟其他的没有差别。

我丈夫看到我和他密谈,他们两个打了一架以后,我叫他帮我洗清名声,告诉别人我们之间什么也没发生,但是他拒绝了。他希望大家都相信并没有发生的事情,这样一来,人们就不会去想真相如何了。他还跟我说如果他的罪行败露,他以及帮过他的人都将被终生监禁。他让我害怕极了!如果我说出他的秘密,那我和他都完了。他答应每年支付我一笔钱,条件是我保持沉默,继续住在韦明翰,让他随时可以找到我,也免得我与人交朋友,然后乱讲话。虽说条件很苛刻,我还是答应了。

很多年以后,那时我女儿同我在一起,我收到他的一封信把我惹恼了。我无法控制自己,当着女儿的面说:“我把他的秘密说出去就能毁了他。”后来有一天,他来我家,管我女儿叫傻瓜,她一下子喊了起来:“赶快请求我原谅你,不然我就把你的秘密说出去,毁了你。”完全是我说过的话!他的脸一下子变白了。他向我们破口大骂。最后,你知道,他把她关进了精神病院。我试图告诉他,她什么也不知道。可是他不相信我。我女儿明白她使他害怕了,是他把她关进了精神病院,因为他认为她知道了他的秘密。这就是为什么她那么恨他。但是,她其实到死也不知道那秘密到底是什么。

最后我要说的是,如果你认为我丈夫不是我女儿的父亲,你就是污辱我。请不要多问了。为了保护我自己,信中没有提到任何名字,我也不会署名。

13
The threat

Mrs Catherick's extraordinary and shameless letter filled me with disgust. My interest in Sir Percival Glyde's crime was now at an end, but I decided to keep the letter in case it might help me find out who Anne's father really was.

Later in the morning I went to the legal enquiry into Sir Percival's death. I was only asked to say what had happened. I was not asked how I thought the keys had been taken, how the fire had been caused, or why Sir Percival had gone into the vestry. As no one could explain any of these things, the verdict at the end of the enquiry was 'death by accident'.

Afterwards, a gentleman who was also at the enquiry walked back to the hotel with me. He had heard from Sir Percival's lawyer that a distant relation abroad would now inherit Blackwater Park. This was obviously the person who should have inherited it twenty-three years before. If I made Sir Percival's crime public, it would be to no one's advantage now. If I kept the secret, the true character of the man who had cheated Laura into marrying him would remain hidden. And for her sake, I wished to keep it hidden.

I still could not leave Hampshire, as I had to report to the police station in Knowlesbury the next day. I spent another night at the hotel and in the morning went to the post office to collect the letter from Marian. As promised, we had written to each other every day, and Marian's letters had been full of cheerful news. This morning's letter was short, and terrified me.


Come back as soon as you can. We have had to move. Come to Gower's Walk, Fulham (number five). I will look out for you. Don't be alarmed about us, we are both safe and well. But come back. — Marian


What had happened? What dreadful thing had Count Fosco done while I was away? In spite of my anxiety, I had to wait. I paid my bill at the hotel and took a cab to Knowlesbury.

At the police station, as I expected, no one appeared to continue the action against me and I was allowed to go. Half an hour later I was on the train back to London.

I got to Gower's Walk in Fulham at about nine o'clock. Both Laura and Marian came to the door to let me in. Laura was much brighter and happier, full of plans for the future and for her drawing and painting. Marian's face was tired and anxious. I could see that she had spared Laura the knowledge of the terrible death in Welmingham and the true reason for moving to new lodgings. When Laura had left us and we could speak freely, I tried to give some expression to my feelings and told Marian how much I admired her for the courage and love she had shown.

She was too generous to listen to me, and turned the conversation to my worries.

'I'm so sorry for my letter — it must have alarmed you.'

'Yes, it did,' I admitted. 'Was I right in thinking that you moved because of a threat by Count Fosco?'

'Perfectly right,' she said. 'I saw him yesterday, and worse than that, Walter — I spoke to him.'

'Spoke to him? Did he come to the house?'

'He did. Yesterday, when I was passing the window, I saw him in the street. Then there was a knock on the door. I rushed out and there he was, dressed in black, with his smooth face and his deadly smile. I closed the door behind me so that Laura would not see or hear him.'

'What did he say?' I asked anxiously.

'He greeted me, then repeated the warning in his letter to me. He said he had not been able to prevent Sir Percival's violence towards you, and he had found out our address in order to protect his own interests. You were followed, Walter, on your return home after your first journey to Hampshire. He used this information only when he heard of Sir Percival's death, because he believed you would act against him next.'

'And he was right,' I said. 'What did he say about me?'

'He was very cool, very polite, and very threatening,' said Marian. 'He said, "Warn Mr Hartright! He has an intelligent and powerful man to deal with. Let him be content with what he has got. Say to him, if he attacks me, I will use all my power to destroy him. There is nothing I will not do. Dear lady, good morning." Then he just looked at me with his cold grey eyes, and walked away.

'I ran back inside, and told Laura we had to move. We needed a quieter neighbourhood with better air for the sake of her health. I said you'd wanted us to do that, and why didn't we do it now to surprise you when you got back. She liked that idea, and was quite happy to move. I found these lodgings through an old school friend. I did the right thing, didn't I, Walter?'

I answered her warmly and gratefully, as I really felt.

But the anxious look remained on her face, and I saw in her eyes her continuing fear of the Count's cleverness and energy.

'What do you think of his message, Walter? What do you plan to do next?'

'I decided weeks ago that Laura will be received in her uncle's house again,' I answered. 'And my decision remains the same. Count Fosco will answer for his crime to ME.'

Marian's eyes lit up. She said nothing, but I could see how strongly she supported this plan.

'I know the risks are great,' I said, 'but it must be done. I'm not foolish enough to try this before I'm well prepared. I can wait. Let him think his message has produced its effect. He will start to feel safe. Also, my position towards you and Laura ought to be a stronger one than it is now.'

'How can it be stronger?' she asked, surprised.

'Marian, I would like you to say to Laura, gently, that her husband is dead.'

'Oh, Walter, so soon? You have a reason for this, don't you?'

'Yes. I cannot speak to Laura yet. But one day, not too distant, I want to tell her that I love her.'

Marian looked at me for a time, then gave a sad, gentle smile. 'Yes, I understand. I think I owe it to her and to you, Walter, to tell her of her husband's death.'

The next day Laura knew that death had released her from her marriage, and her husband's name was never mentioned among us again.

*  *  *

Our life returned to its usual pattern, but I did not forget the Count. I discovered that he had rented his house in St John's Wood for another six months, so I was fairly sure he would still be in London, within my reach, when the time came to act.

We finally solved the puzzle of who Anne Catherick's father was. When I went again to see Mrs Clements and to tell her about Anne's death, she remembered where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Her employer had been a Mr Donthorne.

We wrote to Mr Donthorne, who replied with some very interesting information. Philip Fairlie, Laura's father, had been a great friend of his when they were young, and a frequent house guest. He was a handsome man and fond of female company. Mr Donthorne was fairly certain that Philip Fairlie had been staying at his house when Mrs Catherick was employed as a servant, in the year before Anne was born.

When Marian and I checked the dates; when we considered that Anne and Laura looked so alike; and when we took into account the fact that Laura looked very much like her father, we were in no doubt that here was the solution. Philip Fairlie was Anne's father, and so Anne was Laura's half-sister.

Now, at last, the woman in white, that strange sad shadow walking in the loneliness of the night, could rest in peace.

*  *  *

Four months passed. Laura grew stronger in body and in mind. She was almost her old self, and when we talked, it was as we used to talk at Limmeridge. If I touched her by accident, I felt my heart beating fast, and I saw the answering colour in her face.

In April, we went for a holiday at the seaside. While we were there I told Marian that when we returned to London, I was determined to force a confession from Count Fosco — to make him tell me the real date of Laura's journey to London.

'But if I am to challenge the Count, for Laura's safety, I think I should challenge him as her husband. Do you agree, Marian?'

'With every word,' she said. 'I parted you both once. Wait here, my brother, my best and dearest friend! Till Laura comes, and tells you what I have done now!'

She kissed my forehead and left the room. I waited by the window, staring out at the beach, seeing nothing, hardly able to breathe. The door opened, and Laura came in alone. When we parted at Limmeridge, she had come into the room slowly, in sorrow and hesitation. Now she ran to me, with the light of happiness shining in her face. She put her arms around me, and her sweet lips came to meet mine.

'My darling!' she whispered, 'May we say we love each other now? Oh, I am so happy at last!'

Ten days later we were even happier. We were married.


verdict n. a decision; a judgment 结论

spare somebody the knowledge of keeping somebody from knowing 不让某人知道……

deadly adj. horrible 可怕的

answer for be responsible 受到惩罚

fairly adv. to a noticeable degree 相当地

13.威胁

凯瑟里克太太奇怪而又不知羞耻的来信使我对她充满了鄙夷。现在,我对珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行已经没有兴趣了,但我还是决定留着这封信,也许它会帮我找出安妮的父亲究竟是谁。

上午晚些时候,我去参加珀西瓦尔爵士死亡的法律调查。他们只让我说说发生了什么,没有问我如何看待钥匙为什么会被拿走,火灾是怎么发生的,或者为什么珀西瓦尔爵士会进到法衣室去。没有人能够解释这些问题,所以调查的最终结论是“意外死亡”。

之后,一位也参加了调查的男子和我一起走回旅店。他从珀西瓦尔爵士的律师那里得知,一个国外的远亲现在要来继承布莱克沃特庄园。很明显,这就是23年前应该继承庄园的那个人。假如我把珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行公之于众,现在对谁都没有好处。假如我不把秘密说出去,这个欺骗劳拉与之结婚的人的真正人品就不会有人知道。但为了劳拉,我愿意保守这个秘密。

我还不能离开汉普郡,因为转天还要去诺雷斯伯里警察局。我在旅店又住了一晚。第二天一早,我去邮局取玛丽安的来信。我们按约定每天通信。玛丽安的来信一直都是好消息。今天早上的来信很短,但却令我害怕。


请尽快回来。我们不得不搬了家。到富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街(5号)来找我们。我也会留意等你。不必为我们担心,我们很安全。一定快回来。玛丽安


出了什么事?我不在的时候,福斯科伯爵又做了什么坏事?尽管非常担心,我还是得等。我付清了旅店的费用,叫了辆马车直奔诺雷斯伯里。

在警察局,不出我所料,没人来继续同我纠缠,我可以走了。半个小时后,我登上了返回伦敦的火车。

大约9点钟,我赶到了富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街。劳拉和玛丽安都到门口迎接我。劳拉的脸色比以前好多了,人也高兴多了,对将来和她的绘画有很多想法。玛丽安的脸上带着倦容和忧虑。看得出她没有把珀西瓦尔死在韦明翰的可怕消息和搬到新住处的真实原因告诉劳拉。劳拉走开以后,我们可以随便谈话了。我想告诉她我非常敬佩她的勇气和她对劳拉表现出的爱。

这位慷慨的姑娘没等我说完就把话题转到我的担忧上来了。

alt

“给你写那样的信,真是对不起——你一定很为我们担心吧。”

“是的,我的确很担心,”我说,“我猜你们搬家是由于福斯科伯爵的威胁,对吗?”

“一点儿不错,”她回答,“我昨天看见他了,更糟糕的是,沃尔特——我跟他说话了。”

“跟他说话了?他去你们的住处了?”

“是的。昨天,我从窗旁走过的时候,看见他在街上。过了一会儿,有人敲门。我马上跑过去开门,就是他,穿一身黑色衣服,光滑的脸上带着吓人的微笑。我关上了身后的门,这样劳拉就看不见他,也听不见他说话了。”

“他都说了什么?”我急切地问。

“他跟我打了招呼,然后再一次重复了他在信中对我的警告。他说他没能阻止珀西瓦尔爵士针对你的恶劣行为,他找到我们的住处是要保护他自己的利益。你第一次去汉普郡回来的时候就被跟踪了,沃尔特。他在听到珀西瓦尔爵士的死讯后才决定登门,因为他认为你下一个对付的目标就是他。”

“让他说对了,”我说,“他说我什么了?”

“他非常冷静而有礼,同时又非常具有威胁性,”玛丽安接着说,“他说,‘请警告哈特里特先生!他要对付的是一个有智慧、有权势的人。叫他对已经得到的东西知足吧。告诉他,如果他跟我对着干,我将不遗余力地干掉他。我会不择手段的。亲爱的小姐,再见。’然后,他用冷酷的灰眼睛看了看我,就走了。

“我赶忙跑进屋,跟劳拉说我们得搬家。为她的健康着想,我们需要一个更安静、空气更好的地方。我说你也希望我们搬家,为什么不现在就搬,等你回来给你一个惊喜呢。她喜欢这个主意,欢天喜地地同意了。我通过一个校友找到这个住处。我做得没错吧,沃尔特?”

我说她做得非常好,这是我的心里话。

但是,她脸上依然带着忧虑,从她的眼神里看得出,她还在害怕伯爵的精明和权势。

“沃尔特,你怎么看他的那些话?下一步你准备怎么做?”

“几星期前,我就决定让劳拉重新在她叔叔家得到应有的承认,”我回答,“现在我还是这样想的。我要让福斯科伯爵为他犯下的罪行付出代价。”

玛丽安的眼睛一亮,虽然没有说话,但是看得出她非常支持这个计划。

“我清楚这样做风险很大,”我说,“但这件事一定要做。我不会愚蠢到没做好准备就动手。我可以等。让他觉得他的话起了作用,认为已经平安无事了。另外,我跟你和劳拉的关系也该比现在更明确。”

“怎么个更明确法?”她吃惊地问。

“玛丽安,我希望你能心平气和地告诉劳拉,她丈夫已经死了。”

“噢,沃尔特,这么快就告诉她?你这样做是不是有什么原因?”

“是的,我现在还不能跟劳拉谈,但总有一天,不会太久,我会告诉她我爱她。”

玛丽安看了我一会儿,然后淡淡地、略带忧伤地笑了笑,“好吧,我明白。我想这是我欠你们的,沃尔特,我会把她丈夫的死讯告诉她。”

第二天,劳拉知道她丈夫死了,她也从这段婚姻中解脱了,那以后我们谁也没再提过她丈夫的名字。

*  *  *

我们的生活恢复了往常的模式,但是我没有忘记伯爵。我了解到他在圣约翰伍德的房子又续租了6个月,因此可以肯定,到了我采取行动的时候,他还会在伦敦,我还可以找到他。

我们终于弄清了安妮·凯瑟里克的父亲是谁。我又去见了克莱门茨太太,告诉她安妮已经死了。她记起凯瑟里克太太当仆人的地方。她的雇主姓多桑。

我们给多桑先生写信,他在回信中告诉我们一些非常有趣的信息。菲利普·费尔利,就是劳拉的父亲,年轻时和他是好友,也是他家里的常客。菲利普风流潇洒,喜欢女色。多桑先生非常肯定凯瑟里克太太在他家当仆人的那段时间,也就是安妮出生的前一年,菲利普·费尔利一直住在他家。

玛丽安和我算了算时间,我们想到安妮和劳拉如此地相像,想到劳拉如此地像她父亲,我们得到了非常肯定的答案。菲利普·费尔利是安妮的父亲,安妮和劳拉是同父异母的姐妹。

现在,那位白衣女人,那位在寂静深夜出现的古怪而哀伤的女人终于可以安息了。

*  *  *

四个月过去了,劳拉的身体渐渐强壮起来,头脑也慢慢清楚了。她几乎又是原来的她了。我们交谈的时候,感觉和当初在利默里奇谈话时一样。当我无意间碰到她的时候,我感到心跳在加速,而且我注意到她也脸红了。

4月,我们到海边度假。在那里,我告诉玛丽安,等回到伦敦,我一定要迫使福斯科伯爵说实话,让他说出劳拉回伦敦的真正日期。

“但是为了劳拉的安全,我想如果我挑战伯爵的话,最好以她丈夫的身份前去,你同意吗,玛丽安?”

“完全同意,”玛丽安说,“我曾让你们两个分开,你在这儿等我一下,我的好朋友!一会儿劳拉就过来,她会告诉你我这次是怎么做的,好吗?”

她吻了吻我的额头,走了出去。我在窗旁等着,眼睛望着海滩,却什么也看不到,我紧张得几乎喘不过气来。门开了,劳拉一个人走进来。我们在利默里奇分手的时候,她是慢慢地走进房间的,神情充满了痛苦和犹豫。这会儿,她跑向我,脸上闪耀着幸福的光芒。她张开手臂紧紧地拥抱我,用甜润的双唇吻着我。

“亲爱的!”她轻声说,“现在我们能对彼此说‘我爱你’了吧?啊,我终于得到幸福了!”

十天以后,我们的幸福又向前迈进了一步,我们结婚了。

14
The confession

A fortnight later, we returned to London, and I began to prepare for my battle with the Count. It was now early May and the rental agreement for his house ended in June. In my new happiness with Laura (to whom we never mentioned the Count's name), I was sometimes tempted to change my mind and to leave things as they were. But she still had dreams, terrible dreams that made her cry out in her sleep, and I knew I had to go on.

First, I tried to find out more about the Count. Marian told me that he had not been back to Italy for many years. Had he been obliged to leave Italy for political reasons, I wondered? But Marian also said that at Blackwater Park he had received official-looking letters with Italian stamps on, which would seem to contradict this idea. Perhaps he was a spy, I thought. That might explain why he had stayed in England so long after the successful completion of his plot. Who could I ask who might know something? Another Italian, perhaps — and I suddenly thought of my old friend, Professor Pesca.

Before I did that, I decided to have a look at the Count, as up to this time I had never once set eyes on him. So one morning I went to Forest Road, St John's Wood, and waited near his house. Eventually, he came out and I followed behind him as he walked towards the centre of London. Marian had prepared me for his enormous size and fashionable clothes, but not for the horrible freshness and cheerfulness and energy of the man.

Near Oxford Street he stopped to read a sign announcing an opera, and then went into the opera ticket office, which was nearby. I went over to read the sign. The opera was being performed that evening, and it seemed likely that the Count would be in the audience.

If I invite Pesca to the opera, I thought, I can point the Count out to him and find out if he knows him. So I bought two tickets myself, sent Pesca a note, and that evening called to take him with me to the opera.

The music had already started when we went in, and all the seats were filled. However, there was room to stand at the sides. I looked around and saw the Count sitting in a seat half-way down, so I placed myself exactly on a line with him, with Pesca standing at my side. When the first part finished, the audience, including the Count, rose to look about them.

When the Count was looking in our direction, I nudged Pesca with my elbow. 'You see that tall fat man? Do you know him?'

'No,' said Pesca. 'Is he famous? Why do you point him out?'

'Because I have a reason for wanting to know more about him. He's an Italian, and his name is Count Fosco. Do you know that name? Look — stand on this step so that you can see him better.'

A slim, fair-haired man, with a scar on his left cheek, was standing near us. I saw him look at Pesca, and then follow the direction of his eyes to the Count. Pesca repeated that he did not know him, and as he spoke, the Count looked our way again.

The eyes of the two Italians met.

In that second I was suddenly convinced that, while Pesca may not have known the Count, the Count certainly knew Pesca!

Not only knew him, but — more surprising still — feared him as well. The Count's face had frozen into a dreadful stillness, the cheeks as pale as death, the cold grey eyes staring in terror.

Nearby, the man with the scar also seemed to be watching with interest the effect that Pesca had had on the Count.

'How the fat man stares!' Pesca said, looking round at me. 'But I've never seen him before in my life.'

As Pesca looked away, the Count turned, moving quickly towards the back of the theatre, where the crowd was thickest. I caught Pesca's arm and, to his great surprise, hurried him with me after the Count. The slim man with the scar had apparently also decided to leave, and was already ahead of us. By the time Pesca and I reached the entrance, neither the Count nor the slim man was in sight.

'Pesca,' I said urgently, 'I must speak to you in private. May we go to your lodgings to talk?'

'What on earth is the matter?' cried Pesca.

I hurried him on without answering. The way the Count had left the theatre, his extraordinary anxiety to avoid Pesca, made me fear that he might go even further — and out of my reach.

In Pesca's lodgings, I explained everything as fast as I could, while Pesca stared at me in great confusion and amazement.

'He knows you — he's afraid of you. He left the theatre to escape you,' I said. 'There must be a reason, Pesca! Think of your own life before you came to England. You left Italy for political reasons. I don't ask what they were. But could that man's terror be connected with your past in some way?'

To my inexpressible surprise, these harmless words seemed to terrify Pesca. His face went white and he started to tremble.

'Walter!' he whispered. 'You don't know what you ask.'

I stared at him. 'Pesca, forgive me. I didn't mean to cause you pain. I spoke only because of what my wife has suffered from that man's cruel actions. You must forgive me.'

I rose to go. He stopped me before I reached the door.

'Wait,' he said. 'You saved my life once. You have a right to hear from me what you want to know, even though I could be killed for it. I only ask that, if you find the connection between my past and that man Fosco, you do not tell me.'

Then, his face still pale as the memories of the past crowded in on him, he told me the story.

'In my youth I belonged — and still belong — to a secret political society. Let's call it the Brotherhood, I can't tell you its real name. But I took too many risks and did something which put other members in danger. So I was ordered to go and live in England and to wait. I went — I have waited — I still wait. I could be called away tomorrow, or in ten years. I cannot know.

'The purpose of the Brotherhood is to fight for the rights of the people. There is a president in Italy, and presidents abroad. Each of these has his secretary. The presidents and secretaries know the members, but members don't know each other, until it's considered necessary. Every member of the Brotherhood is identified by a small round mark burnt into the skin, high up on the inside of their left arm.'

He rolled up his sleeve and showed me his own mark.

'If anyone betrays the Brotherhood,' he went on, 'he is a dead man. Another member, a distant stranger or a neighbour, will be ordered to kill him. No one can leave the society — ever.'

Pesca paused, then continued. 'In Italy I was chosen to be secretary. The members at that time were brought face to face with the president, and were also brought face to face with me. You understand me — I see it in your face. But tell me nothing, I beg you! Let me stay free of a responsibility which horrifies me.

'I do not know the man at the opera,' he said finally. 'If he knows me, he is so changed, or disguised, that I do not know him. Leave me now, Walter. I have said enough.'

'I thank you with all my heart, Pesca,' I said. 'You will never, never regret the trust you have placed in me.'

Walking home, my heart beat with excitement. Here at last, surely, was my weapon against the Count! I was convinced he was a member of the Brotherhood, had betrayed it, and believed that he had been recognized tonight. His life was now in danger. What else could explain his extreme terror at seeing Pesca?

And what would he do next? Leave London as fast as he could. If I went to his house and tried to stop him, he would not hesitate to kill me. To protect myself, I had to make his safety depend on mine. I hurried home and wrote this letter to Pesca:

The man at the opera, Fosco, is a member of your society and has betrayed it. Go instantly to his house at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. I am already dead. Use your power against him without delay.

I signed and dated the letter, and wrote on the envelope: Keep until nine o'clock tomorrow morning. If you do not hear from me before then, open the envelope and read the contents.

I then found a messenger, told him to deliver the letter and bring back a note from Professor Pesca to say he had received it. Twenty minutes later I had the note, and as I was leaving, Marian came to the door, looking anxious.

'It's tonight, isn't it?' she said. 'You're going to the Count.'

'Yes, it's the last chance, and the best.'

'Oh, Walter, not alone! Let me go with you. Don't go alone?'

'No, Marian. You must stay here and guard Laura for me. Then I will be easy in my mind when I face the Count.'

*  *  *

As I approached the Count's house, I passed the man with the scar on his cheek, whom I had noticed earlier at the opera. What was he doing here, I wondered?

I sent in my card, and I still do not know why the Count let me into his house at half past eleven at night. Was he just curious to see me? He would not have known that I was at the opera with Pesca, and I suppose he thought he had nothing to fear from me.

He was still in his evening suit, and there was a travelling case on the floor, with books, papers, and clothes all around him. My guess had been right.

'You come here on business, Mr Hartright?' he said, looking at me with curiosity. 'I cannot think what that might be.'

'You are obviously preparing for a journey,' I said. 'That is my business. I know why you are leaving London.'

'So you know why I am leaving London?' He went over to a table and opened a drawer.' Tell me the reason, if you please.'

'I can show you the reason,' I said. 'Roll up the sleeve on your left arm, and you will see it.'

His cold grey eyes stared into mine. There was a long heartbeat of silence. I was as certain as if I had seen it that he had a gun hidden in the drawer, and that my life hung by a thread.

'Wait a little,' I said. 'Before you act, I advise you to read this note.' Moving slowly and carefully, I passed him Pesca's note.

He read the lines aloud.

Your letter is received. If I don't hear from you before nine o'clock, I will open the envelope when the clock strikes.

Another man might have needed an explanation, but not the Count. His expression changed, and he closed the drawer.

'You are cleverer than I thought,' he said. 'I cannot leave before nine as I have to wait for a passport to be delivered. Your information may be true or may be false — where did you get it?'

'I refuse to tell you.'

'And that unsigned note you showed me — who wrote it?'

'A man whom you have every reason to fear.'

A pause. 'What do you want of me, Mr Hartright? Is it to do with a lady, perhaps?'

'Yes, my wife,' I answered.

He looked at me in real amazement, and I saw at once that he no longer considered me a dangerous man. He folded his arms and listened to me with a cold smile.

'You are guilty of a wicked crime,' I went on. 'But you can keep the money. All I want is a signed confession of the plot and a proof of the date my wife travelled to London.'

'Good!' he said. 'Those are your conditions; here are mine. One, Madame Fosco and I leave the house when we please and you do not try to stop us. Two, you wait here until my agent comes early tomorrow morning and you give him an order to get back your letter unopened. You then allow us half an hour to leave the house. Three, you agree to fight me at a place to be arranged later abroad. Do you accept my conditions — yes or no?'

His quick decision, his cleverness and force of character amazed me. For a second I hesitated. Should I let him escape? Yes, the evidence I needed to prove Laura's identity was far more important than revenge.

'I accept your conditions,' I said.

At once, he called for coffee and sat down to write. He wrote quickly for quite some time. Finally, he jumped up, declared that he had finished and read out his statement, which I accepted as satisfactory. He gave me the address of the company from whom he had hired the cab to collect Laura, and also gave me a letter signed by Sir Percival. It was dated 25th July, and announced the journey of Lady Glyde to London on 26th July. So there it was. On 25th July, the date of her death certificate in London, Laura was alive in Hampshire, about to make a journey the next day.

The Count then called in Madame Fosco to watch me while he slept. Early in the morning his agent arrived and I wrote a note for Pesca. An hour later, the agent returned with my unopened letter and the Count's passport.

'Remember the third condition!' the Count said as he left. 'You will hear from me, Mr Hartright.' Then he and the Countess got into the agent's cab with their bags and drove away, leaving the agent with me to make sure I did not follow.

As I watched them leave, another cab went by and I saw inside the man with the scar on his cheek. What was his business with the Count, I wondered? I had seen him too often now for it to be chance. Perhaps I had fought my own battle with the Count just in time. You cannot get a signed confession out of a dead man.

While I waited for the agreed half hour, I read the document that the Count had written for me.


Statement by Isidor Ottavio Baldassare Fosco

In the summer of 1850 I arrived in England on delicate political business and stayed with my friend, Sir Percival Glyde. We both urgently needed large amounts of money. The only person who had such money was his wife, from whom not a penny could be obtained until her death. To make matters worse, my friend had other private problems. A woman called Anne Catherick was hidden in the neighbourhood, was communicating with Lady Glyde, and knew a secret which could ruin him. And if he was ruined, what would happen to our financial interests?

The first thing to do was to find Anne Catherick, who, I was told, looked very much like Lady Glyde and who had escaped from a mad-house. I had the fantastic idea of changing the names, places and lives of Lady Glyde and Anne Catherick, the one with the other. The wonderful results of this change would be the gain of £ 30,000 and the keeping of Sir Percival's secret.

I found Anne Catherick and persuaded her and her friend to return to London. I rented a house in St John's Wood for myself, and obtained from Mr Fairlie in Limmeridge an invitation for Lady Glyde to visit. For my plan to work, it was necessary for Lady Glyde to leave Blackwater Park alone and stay a night at my house on her way to Limmeridge. This plan was made easier by Miss Halcombe's illness. I returned to Blackwater Park, and when Miss Halcombe was out of danger, I got rid of the doctor and instructed Sir Percival to get rid of the servants.

Next, we sent Mrs Michelson away for a few days, and one night Madame Fosco, Mrs Rubelle and I moved the sleeping Miss Halcombe to an unused part of the house. I left for London in the morning with my wife, leaving Sir Percival to persuade Lady Glyde that her sister had gone to Limmeridge and that she should follow her, breaking her journey in London at my house.

On 24th July, with my wife's help, I got hold of Anne Catherick, and took her to my house as Lady Glyde. However, when she saw no one she recognized, she screamed with fear and, to my horror, the shock to her weak heart caused her to collapse. By the end of the following day, she was dead. Dead on the 25th, and Lady Glyde was not due to arrive in London till the 26th!

It was too late to change the plan. I remained calm and carried on. On the 26th, leaving the false Lady Glyde dead in my house, I collected the true Lady Glyde from the railway station and took her to Mrs Rubelle's house. The two medical men I had hired (shall we say) were easily persuaded to certify the confused and frightened Lady Glyde as mentally ill. Then I gave her a drug and had Mrs Rubelle dress her in Anne Catherick's clothes. The next day, the 27th, she was delivered to the asylum, where she was received with great surprise, but without suspicion. The false Lady Glyde was buried at Limmeridge. I attended the funeral with suitable expressions of deep sympathy.

One final question remains. If Anne Catherick had not died when she did, what would I have done? I would, of course, have given her a happy release from the prison of life.


tempt v. to make someone want to have or do something 引诱

contradict v. be in conflict with 与……相矛盾

perform v. act 表演

nudge v. push gently 轻轻地碰

inexpressible adj. that can not be expressed 难以说清的

disguise v. alter the appearance so as to conceal the identity 伪装

curious adj. eager to learn; inquisitive 好奇的

aloud adv. audibly 出声地

agent n. a person who acts for another in business, politics etc. 代理人

delicate adj. tricky 微妙的

fantastic adj. wonderful 绝好的

14.认罪

两个星期之后,我们回到了伦敦。我开始准备与伯爵的较量。现在是5月初,他租房的期限到6月。享受着与劳拉新婚的幸福(我们从未跟她提起过伯爵),有时我忍不住想改变主意,让一切都过去。但是劳拉仍会做梦,可怕的噩梦,她常常在梦里惊叫起来,因此我明白必须继续原来的计划。

首先,我想尽量多了解一些伯爵的事。玛丽安告诉我,他已经很多年没有回意大利了。我想,他是不是由于政治原因被迫离开意大利的呢?但是玛丽安又说,在布莱克沃特庄园他好像收到过贴着意大利邮票的官方来信,这两者是互相矛盾的。也许他是间谍。这样可以解释为什么他在自己的阴谋得逞后,还在英国逗留那么久。有谁能告诉我答案呢?也许该再找个意大利人问问——猛然间我想到了老朋友,佩斯卡教授。

去见佩斯卡教授前,我决定先去看一下伯爵,因为到目前为止,我还从来没有见过他。于是一天早上,我去了圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特大街,在他的住处附近等他出现。最后,他终于出来了,朝伦敦市中心走去。我在后面跟着他。玛丽安跟我提过他身躯肥胖,衣着入时,但我没想到这个人那么精力旺盛,神采飞扬。

在牛津街附近,他停住脚步看一个歌剧的海报,然后走进了不远处的售票处。我过去看了一下海报,发现演出就在晚上,伯爵很可能会出现在观众当中。

我想假如邀请佩斯卡来看歌剧,就可以把伯爵指给他,看他是否认识。于是,我自己买了两张票,给佩斯卡写了封短信,晚上找他一起去看歌剧。

我们进入剧院的时候,音乐已经响起来了,剧场里座无虚席。不过剧场两边还有站的地方。我环顾四周,看到伯爵坐在前面几排的座位上,于是我也站到了那一排,佩斯卡站在我旁边。第一部分演出结束了,观众们,包括伯爵在内,都起身向周围张望。

在伯爵朝我们这个方向看的时候,我用臂肘碰了一下佩斯卡,“看见那个高大的胖子了吗?你认识他吗?”

“不认识,”佩斯卡回答,“他很有名吗?你为什么让我看他?”

“因为我需要更多地了解关于他的情况。他是意大利人,叫福斯科伯爵。你听说过这个名字吗?来,站这个台阶上,你会看得更清楚些。”

一个瘦瘦的金发男子站在我们的旁边,他的左脸上有一道疤。我注意到他看了看佩斯卡,又顺着佩斯卡的视线看了看伯爵。佩斯卡再一次对我说,他不认识那个人,就在他说话的时候,伯爵朝我们这边看过来。

这两个意大利人的目光相遇了。

那一瞬间,我敢肯定地说,佩斯卡可能不认识伯爵,但伯爵一定认识佩斯卡!

不仅是认识,更令人惊奇的是伯爵害怕佩斯卡。伯爵脸上的表情凝固了,像死人一样毫无血色,冷酷的灰眼睛恐惧地盯着这边。

脸上有疤的人似乎饶有兴趣地在一旁看着佩斯卡对伯爵的影响。

“那个胖子怎么那样看着我!”佩斯卡说,转过头看着我,“我从未见过他呀。”

佩斯卡扭头的时候,伯爵转身快步向剧场后边走去,那里人最多。我一把抓住佩斯卡的胳膊,不顾他的惊讶,拉着他紧追伯爵。那个脸上有疤的瘦子显然也准备离开剧场,并且已经走到了我们的前面。等我和佩斯卡赶到入口,伯爵和那个瘦子都已经不见了。

“佩斯卡,”我赶忙说,“我必须和你单独谈谈,我们到你的住处去谈可以吗?”

“这到底是怎么回事?”佩斯卡大声说。

我没回答,只是催着他赶紧走。伯爵离开剧场的样子,还有他迫不及待地要躲避佩斯卡,使我担心他可能会逃得更远——我可能再也找不到他了。

到了佩斯卡的住处,我以最快的速度向他讲述了事情的经过,他充满迷惑和惊讶地望着我。

他认识你——他很怕你。他离开剧场就是要逃避你,”我说,“这其中一定有原因,佩斯卡!回忆一下你来英国以前的经历。你是由于政治原因离开意大利的,我不是问你那些政治原因,不过那个人如此惊慌会不会同你的过去有什么关联?”

令我非常吃惊的是,这些本来无关紧要的话好像令佩斯卡非常惊恐。他的脸色变得煞白,身体开始颤抖。

“沃尔特!”他低声说,“你不知道你问了什么。”

我两眼紧盯着他,“佩斯卡,请原谅。我不是有意要给你带来痛苦,我说那些话只是因为那个人给我妻子带来了巨大的伤害。请你原谅我。”

我起身要离开,还没走到门口,他叫住了我。

“等一下,”他说,“你救过我的命,你有权从我这里知道你想要知道的东西,即使这会要了我的命。我唯一的请求是,即使你发现了我的过去同那个福斯科的关系,你也不要告诉我。”

接着,他开始讲他的经历,过去的记忆卷土重来,令他脸色煞白。

“我年轻的时候参加了一个秘密政治社团,现在还是它的成员。我们姑且叫它兄弟社团,我不能告诉你真实的名称。我当时完成了很多出生入死的任务,也做了一些给其他成员带来危险的事,所以社团命令我到英国待命。我服从命令来了英国——一直在等——现在还在等。我可能明天就被召回,也许是10年以后。我不知道。

“兄弟社团的宗旨是为人民争取权利。它在意大利有一个主席,国外有很多主席。每个主席都有秘书。主席和秘书认识所有的成员,但除非在必要的情况下,成员们彼此都不认识。每个兄弟社团成员的左臂内侧靠上的地方都有一个很小的圆形烙印,这是他们的记号。”

他卷起衣袖,给我看他自己的烙印。

“任何人背叛了兄弟社团,”他接着说,“他肯定会被处死。其他成员,也许是一个他不认识的陌生人,也许是他的邻居,会奉命杀死他。任何人不能退出社团——永远都不可以。”

佩斯卡停了一会儿又说:“在意大利,我被选为秘书,所有的成员那时都被带来见主席,当然也就见到了。你明白了我的意思——我从你的表情看出来了。但是,什么也别跟我说,求你了!我不想做我必须做的事,我感到害怕。

“我不认识剧场的那个人,”他最后说,“如果他认识,那他一定跟以前变化很大,或者伪装了自己,让我认不出来了。你现在走吧,沃尔特。我说得够多了。”

“我衷心地感谢你,佩斯卡,”我说,“你永远不会为信任我而后悔的。”

走在回家的路上,我的心情激动不已。我终于找到了对付伯爵的武器。我敢肯定他原来是一个兄弟社团成员,后来背叛了社团,他认为自己今晚被认出来了。现在他的生命很危险。不然他见到佩斯卡为什么那样害怕呢?

那他接着会做什么呢?尽快离开伦敦。如果我去他的住处拦住他,他肯定会毫不犹豫地杀了我。为保护我自己,我必须让他的生命安全地攥在我的手里。我赶忙回到家,给佩斯卡写了一封信:

剧场的那个人,福斯科,是你们社团的一个成员,他背叛了社团。赶快到他的住处圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特街5号。我已经死了。请用你的力量立即干掉他。

我签了名,写上日期,又在信封上写道:等到明天上午9点。如果到那时还没有我的消息,再打开信封读里面的内容。

然后,我找了一个信使,叫他把信送走并带回佩斯卡的回复,说他已经收到信了。20分钟后,我拿到了回复的纸条。我刚要离开,玛丽安出现在门口,脸上露出担忧的表情。

“就是今天晚上吗?”她说,“你要去找伯爵。”

“对,这是最后的机会,也是最好的机会。”

“噢,沃尔特,别一个人去!让我跟你去吧,不要一个人去!”

“不行,玛丽安。你必须留在这里替我保护劳拉。那样,我面对伯爵的时候才会放心。”

*  *  *

快到伯爵住处的时候,我碰见了脸上有疤的那个人,早些时候在剧场就见过他。他在这儿做什么,我心里很纳闷。

我把名片递进去,我到现在也不明白,为什么夜里11点半伯爵还让我进去。他对我好奇,想见我?他并不知道我和佩斯卡同在剧场,我猜想他觉得我没有什么好怕的。

他还穿着晚礼服,地上有一个旅行箱,他周围满是书籍、文件和衣服。我猜的没错。

“你来这里有事,哈特里特先生?”他一边说,一边用好奇的眼光打量我,“我想不出会是什么事。”

“你像是在准备出门旅行,”我说,“这就是我来的原因。我知道你为什么要离开伦敦。”

“你知道我为什么要离开伦敦?”他走到一张桌旁,打开抽屉,“如果你愿意,说说为什么。”

“我可以让你看看为什么,”我说,“把你左边的衣袖卷起,就能看到。”

他那冷酷的灰眼睛一动不动地盯着我。接下来是一阵令人紧张的寂静。我就像亲眼所见一样清楚,那抽屉里藏着枪,我现在命悬一线。

“等一下,”我说,“你动手之前,我建议你看看这个纸条。”我慢慢地、小心翼翼地把佩斯卡的纸条递给他。

他出声读着纸条。

你的信收到了。如果9点以前没有你的消息,9点整,钟一响我就打开信封。

假如换作另外一个人,可能需要一些解释,但伯爵不需要。他脸上的表情变了,他关上了抽屉。

“你比我想的要聪明,”他说,“我9点以前走不了,我得等人给我送护照来。你得到的信息可能是真的,也可能是假的。你是从哪儿知道的?”

“我不会告诉你的。”

“你给我的没有签名的纸条是谁写的?”

“一个你非常害怕的人。”

他停了一会儿,“你要我做什么,哈特里特先生?是不是跟一位女士有关?”

“是的,是我妻子。”我回答。

他非常吃惊地看着我。看得出他不再认为我会给他带来危险了。他双手交叉抱在胸前,面带冷笑听我继续说下去。

“你犯下了严重的罪行,”我接着说道,“但是,你可以留着你得到的钱。我只要一个由你签名的认罪书,还有我妻子回伦敦的日期证明。”

“好!”他说,“这是你的条件,我的条件是:第一,福斯科夫人和我在我们愿意的时候离开这里,你不要阻止我们。第二,你呆在这里,明天一早我的代理人过来,你让他取回那封还没有打开的信。然后,你要给我们半个小时的时间离开这里。第三,你答应跟我在国外找一个地方决斗。你接受我的条件吗——是还是否?”

他的迅速决断,他的精干和意志力令我震惊。我犹豫了一会儿。我应该让他逃走吗?是的,证明劳拉身份的证据比复仇重要得多。

“我接受你的条件。”我说。

他随即叫人拿来咖啡,坐下开始写。他落笔如飞,写了很长时间。最后,他站起来,说他已经写完了并念给我听。我觉得还满意。他给了我他租车接劳拉的那家公司的地址,同时给我的还有珀西瓦尔爵士签名的一封信。信的日期是7月25日,里面说格莱德夫人将于7月26日启程去伦敦。这就是证据。7月25日,即死亡证明上宣告劳拉死于伦敦的日子,劳拉还在汉普郡活着准备第二天的旅行。

然后,伯爵把福斯科夫人叫进来,让她看着我,他自己去睡觉。第二天一早,他的代理人来了,我给佩斯卡写了封短信。一个小时后,代理人拿着我那封没打开的信和护照回来了。

“别忘了第三个条件!”伯爵临走时说,“你会收到我的信的,哈特里特先生。”说完,他和伯爵夫人坐上代理人的马车离开了这里,代理人留下来,确保我不跟踪他们。

我看着他们离开,这时另一辆马车驶过去,车里坐着那个脸上有疤的人。他和伯爵有什么瓜葛?我看到他好几次了,不应该是巧合。或许我跟伯爵的较量正是时候。他要是死了,我就没法得到他签名的笔录了。

在约定的半小时里,我读了伯爵写给我的认罪书。

伊西多·奥塔维奥·鲍尔德塞尔·福斯科的证词

1850年夏天,由于微妙的政治原因我来到英国,同我的朋友珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士住在一起。我们两人都急需一大笔钱。唯一拥有这笔钱的人是他妻子,但是他妻子不死,我们一分钱也得不到。更糟糕的是,我的朋友又遇到了别的麻烦事。一个叫安妮·凯瑟里克的女人藏在我们附近,她在同格莱德夫人接触,并且掌握着一个可以毁掉珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。如果他完蛋了,那我们的经济利益怎么办呢?

我们要做的第一件事就是找到安妮·凯瑟里克。我了解到她的长相和格莱德夫人极为相似。她是从精神病院逃出来的。我突发奇想,把格莱德夫人同安妮·凯瑟里克的名字、住处、经历互换一下。互换的结果既可以让我们得到3万英镑,又能够保住珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。

我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,说服她和她的朋友回伦敦去。我自己在圣约翰伍德租了房子,同时从利默里奇的费尔利先生那里得到了邀请格莱德夫人去看望他的信。要实现我的计划,必须让格莱德夫人一个人离开布莱克沃特庄园,在去往利默里奇的途中在我家里住一夜。哈尔库姆小姐的病让我的计划更容易进行了。我回到布莱克沃特庄园,等哈尔库姆小姐一脱离危险,就辞退了医生,并且让珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了所有仆人。

下一步,我们让米切尔森太太离开庄园几天。一天晚上,福斯科夫人、鲁贝尔太太和我把昏睡中的哈尔库姆小姐抬到了一个没有人住的房间里。转天一早,我和夫人赶往伦敦,留下珀西瓦尔爵士劝说格莱德夫人,让她相信她姐姐已经去了利默里奇,她也应该去找她,途中在伦敦我的家休息。

7月24日,在我妻子的协助下,我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,把她带到我的住处,假装就是格莱德夫人。然而,当安妮·凯瑟里克看到没有一个她认识的人时,吓得叫了起来。令我非常害怕的是,惊吓使她脆弱的心脏无法承受,转天她就死了。她是25日死的,可是格莱德夫人26日才能到伦敦!

改变计划已经来不及了。我尽量保持头脑冷静,继续着原来的计划。26日,我把已死的假格莱德夫人留在家里,到车站去接真正的格莱德夫人,带她到鲁贝尔太太家。我雇用的(可以这样说)两个医生很容易就被说服了,他们证明迷惑而惊恐的格莱德夫人患了精神病。而后,我给她吃了镇静药,让鲁贝尔太太给她穿上安妮·凯瑟里克的衣服。第二天,也就是27日,格莱德夫人被送进精神病院,那里的人非常吃惊,但没有人怀疑。假格莱德夫人被埋葬在利默里奇。我出席了葬礼,表现出应有的悲伤与同情。

还有最后一个问题,如果安妮·凯瑟里克没有死的话,我会怎么办呢?我当然很高兴帮她摆脱牢笼般的人生。

15
The proof

When the half hour had passed, I returned home. After a brief explanation to Laura and Marian, I hurried back to St John's Wood to find the cab-driver whom the Count had hired to collect Laura at the station. He wrote me a statement, which he and a witness signed, saying that on 26th July 1850 he had driven a Count Fosco to the railway station where they had collected a Lady Glyde. He remembered Lady Glyde's name, he said, from the labels on her luggage.

Then I went to Mr Kyrle's office and presented him with the proof of Laura's identity — the letter from Sir Percival, the statement by the cab-driver, the confession by the Count, and the death certificate. Amazed, he congratulated me, and agreed to accompany us to Limmeridge the next day, where I intended to have Laura publicly received and recognized.

Early the next morning Laura, Marian, Mr Kyrle and I took the train to Limmeridge. Laura and Marian stayed at first in a hotel while Mr Kyrle and I went to the house to deal with Mr Fairlie. He complained like a child, saying how was he to know his niece was alive when he was told she was dead? Between us, the lawyer and I made him sign letters calling all those who had attended the false funeral to come to the house the next day.

As I led Laura into her childhood home the following morning, there was a murmur of surprise and interest from the waiting crowd of villagers and neighbours. The business was soon done. I read out the story of the plot against Laura, and Mr Kyrle announced that everything I had said was proved by the strongest evidence. I put my arm around Laura, raised her up, and called to the crowd:

'Are you all agreed that this is the Laura Fairlie you knew?'

'There she is, alive and well — God bless her!' It was an old man at the back of the room who began it, and in an instant everybody was shouting and cheering together.

Later, in the churchyard, we watched a stone worker remove Laura's name from the gravestone. In its place he put this:

ANNE CATHERICK

25TH JULY 1850

We returned to London the following day, happy in the thought that the long struggle was now over.

*  *  *

Several days later Pesca came to see me, and asked for a quiet word in my ear. He had just returned from Paris.

'I have news for you, my friend,' he said. 'You need not worry any more about the man at the opera. His body was found in the river Seine yesterday and now lies in the morgue in Paris. He was killed by knife wounds to the heart.'

'Count Fosco is dead?' I said, amazed. 'Are you sure?'

'I saw the body with my own eyes. He was wearing a French workman's clothes, and had a different name, of course, but he was the fat man we saw at the opera that night. No question.'

'But how do you know this?' I asked.

Pesca hesitated. 'A man brought me some information,' he said. 'I had to see the body, and send a report about it.'

'A man,' I said. 'What kind of man?'

'A stranger,' said Pesca. 'I didn't know him. A man with a scar on his left cheek.' He saw the understanding in my face, and held up his hand. 'No more questions, my friend. Please!'

We never spoke about it again, but I think Pesca was telling me that the Brotherhood had taken their revenge. And so Count Fosco, that extraordinary, evil man, passed from this world.

*  *  *

The following year our first child was born — a son. Six months later my newspaper sent me to Ireland and, when I returned, I found a note from my wife saying she and Marian and little Walter had gone to Limmeridge House. She begged me to follow as soon as possible. Very surprised, I caught the next train. When I got there, Marian and Laura told me Mr Fairlie was dead and that Mr Kyrle had advised them to go to Limmeridge House.

Laura came close to me and I half realized some great change was happening in our lives.

'Do you know who this is, Walter?' Marian asked, holding up my little son, with tears of happiness in her eyes. 'This is the boy who will one day inherit Limmeridge House.'

So she spoke. In writing those last words, I have written everything. Marian was the good friend of our lives — let Marian end our story.


label n. a small piece of paper, card etc. attached to an object and giving information about it 标签

congratulate v. express pleasure at the happiness or good fortune or excellence of a person 祝贺

morgue n. a room or building in which dead bodies may be kept until burial or cremation 停尸间

15.证据

alt

那半个小时过去了,我回到家里。简单地向劳拉和玛丽安说明了情况后,我立即赶回圣约翰伍德去找那个伯爵雇来到车站接劳拉的车夫。那人给我写了份证词,他和另一个证人都签了字。证词说,1850年7月26日他驾车送福斯科伯爵去车站,接了一位格莱德夫人。他说还记得格莱德夫人的名字,是在行李标签上看到的。

然后,我去了克尔先生的办公室,给他看了证明劳拉身份的证据——珀西瓦尔爵士的信、马车夫的证词、伯爵的认罪书和那份死亡证明。克尔先生很吃惊,接着向我表示祝贺并且答应第二天陪我们到利默里奇,我准备让人们公开地接受和认可劳拉。

转天的一大早,劳拉、玛丽安、克尔先生和我乘火车前往利默里奇。劳拉和玛丽安先在一家旅店里休息,克尔先生和我去庄园与费尔利先生交涉。费尔利先生像孩子一样抱怨说,有人告诉他他侄女死了,他怎么会知道他侄女还活着?在只有我们三个人的情况下,克尔先生和我让他在事先准备好的信上签字,邀请所有参加那场假葬礼的人第二天到费尔利家来。

第二天早晨,当我带着劳拉走进她儿时的家时,等候在那里的村民和邻居们发出惊奇的低语声。很快我们进入了正题。我大声宣读了针对劳拉的罪恶阴谋的全过程,克尔先生当众宣布我说的每一件事都证据确凿。我搂住劳拉,扶她起来,高声对众人说:

“你们说这是不是你们认识的劳拉·费尔利?”

“是她,她还好好地活着——上帝保佑她!”一位站在屋子后面的老人首先说,其他人也都立刻欢呼起来。

后来,在教堂墓地里,我们亲眼看着一位石匠把劳拉的名字从墓碑上凿去,在原来的地方刻上:

安妮·凯瑟里克

卒于1850年7月25日

转天,我们返回了伦敦,想到漫长的斗争终于结束了,我们都非常高兴。

*  *  *

过了几天,佩斯卡来看我,要跟我单独聊聊。他刚从巴黎回来。

“我有重要的消息要告诉你,我的朋友,”他说,“你不用再担心剧场里的那个人了,昨天在塞纳河发现了他的尸体,现在他的尸体停放在巴黎的停尸间。他是被人用刀子刺进心脏而死的。”

“福斯科伯爵已经死了?”我吃惊地问,“你能肯定吗?”

“我亲眼看了他的尸体,他穿着法国工人的制服,当然也换了名字,但他就是那天晚上我们在剧场见到的那个胖子。一点儿没错。”

“可你是怎么知道这个消息的呢?”我问。

佩斯卡犹豫了一下。“有人告诉我的,”他说,“我必须亲眼看到他的尸体,然后发一个报告。”

“有人,”我说,“是什么人?”

“一个陌生人,”佩斯卡回答,“我不认识那个人,他的左脸上有一道疤。”看到我脸上了然的表情,他抬了抬手,“请不要多问了,我的朋友!”

我们再没有提起这件事,不过我想佩斯卡是要告诉我兄弟社团已经采取了复仇行动。就这样,福斯科伯爵,那个能力不俗的恶徒从这个世界上消失了。

*  *  *

第二年,我们的第一个孩子出世了——是个儿子。6个月以后,我供职的那家报社派我去了爱尔兰。我回来的时候,看到妻子留给我的一封短信,信上说她和玛丽安还有小沃尔特去了利默里奇庄园。她让我尽快去找他们。我感到很惊讶,赶下一班火车去了那里。我到那儿之后,玛丽安和劳拉告诉我费尔利先生去世了,是克尔先生建议她们到利默里奇庄园去的。

劳拉走到我身边,我朦胧地意识到我们的生活将要发生什么大事。

“你知道这是谁吗,沃尔特?”玛丽安一边举起我的小儿子,一边问我,眼睛里充满了喜悦的泪水,“这个孩子将来有一天会继承利默里奇庄园。”

她就是这样说的。写完了最后几句话,我的讲述就到这里了。玛丽安是我们的终生好友——就让她结束我们的故事吧。

10.The rescue

PART THREE
THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
第三部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

9
The gravestone

On 13th October 1850 I left the wild forests of Central America and returned to England. I had escaped death by disease, death by war, and death by drowning, and hoped that these experiences had strengthened me to face my future — a future without Laura Fairlie. I still remembered her as Laura Fairlie, and could not think of her by her husband's name.

The first thing I did was to visit my mother and sister in their Hampstead cottage. The joy of our meeting, however, soon turned to sadness. I have no secrets from my mother, and when I saw the loving pity in her eyes, I feared the worst.

The news was soon told. I tried hard not to let my sorrow spoil the happiness of my return for my mother and sister, but by the third day I knew I had to go away alone for a while.

'Let me go up to Limmeridge,' I begged my mother. 'I can bear it better when I have seen her grave.'

It was a warm autumn afternoon when I arrived at the station and walked down the familiar road, seeing in the distance the high white walls of Limmeridge House. In the churchyard I found the grave and knelt down beside the gravestone, closing my eyes.

Oh my love! My Love! My dear, dear Love!

Hours passed, and the evening sunlight threw long shadows among the sleeping places of the dead. I had lost all sense of time, kneeling there. Then, in the silence, I heard the soft sound of footsteps on the grass.

I looked up.

Beyond me, standing together by the churchyard wall, were two women, their veils down, hiding their faces. They were looking towards the grave, looking towards me.

Two.

They came closer, and stopped. One of them lifted her veil, and in the still evening light I saw the face of Marian Halcombe. A changed face. Thin and pale, full of pain and fear.

The woman with the veiled face came towards me slowly. Marian Halcombe sank to her knees, murmuring, 'Oh God, help him! Please, please help him, God!'

The veiled woman came on, slowly and silently. I looked at her — at her, and at no one else, from that moment. She had possession of me, body and soul. She stopped by the side of the gravestone, and we stood face to face with the grave between us.

'Oh God, help him, help him!'

The woman lifted her veil.

In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde...

Laura, Lady Glyde, was standing by the gravestone, looking at me over her grave.

*  *  *

A life suddenly changed. A new future before me, like the sunlit view from a mountain top. I leave my story in the quiet shadow of Limmeridge church, and begin again, one week later, in the noise and rush of a London street.

I have rented rooms under a different name. Marian and Laura, using the same name, are said to be my sisters. I earn our bread by doing drawings for cheap magazines. We employ no servant; my elder sister, Marian, does the housework with her own hands. Marian and I are known to be the friends of mad Anne Catherick (address unknown), who falsely claims the identity of Lady Glyde. To the rest of the world, Laura, Lady Glyde, is dead. Dead to her uncle, who has refused to recognize her; dead to the lawyers, who have passed her fortune to her husband and aunt.

But to Marian and me she is alive! Penniless and sadly changed — her beauty faded, her mind confused — but alive, with her poor drawing teacher to fight her battles and to win her way back to the world of living beings. She is mine at last — mine to support, to protect, to defend. And mine to love.


drown v. to kill by submerging and suffocating in liquid 淹死;溺死

strengthen v. make stronger 变得坚强

veil n. a piece of fabric attached to a woman's hat 面纱

earn one's bread earn one's living 维持生计

penniless adj. having no money 身无分文的

9.墓碑

1850年10月13日我离开中美洲的原始森林,回到了英国。我一次次逃过疾病、战争和洪水带来的死亡危险。我希望这些经历能够使我更加坚强地面对未来——没有劳拉的未来。在我心里她依然是劳拉·费尔利,我无法把她冠以她丈夫的姓氏。

我回来后的第一件事是到汉普斯特德看望母亲和妹妹。欢聚的快乐很快转化为悲伤。我没有任何秘密瞒着母亲,从她充满爱怜和同情的眼光里,我预感到最坏的事情发生了。

她们把消息告诉了我。我尽最大努力不让自己的悲哀破坏我回家带给母亲和妹妹的喜悦。但是,回来的第三天,我觉得必须一个人离开一段时间。

“让我到利默里奇去一趟吧,”我恳求着母亲,“看到她的坟墓,我可以更好地接受这一切。”

那是一个秋日的午后,天气很暖和,我到达目的地车站,走在熟悉的大路上,望着远处利默里奇庄园的白色高墙。在教堂墓地里,我找到了劳拉的墓,在她的墓碑前跪下来,闭上了双眼。

我的爱人我的爱人我最亲爱的人

几个小时过去了,落日的余辉在死者的安息地投下长长的影子。我跪在那里,完全没有了时间概念。这时,寂静中传来人走在草地上的脚步声。

我抬起头来。

不远处,教堂墓地的围墙边站着两个女人,面纱遮住了她们的脸。她们正朝墓地张望,正朝张望。

两个女人。

她们朝我走来。其中一个掀起了面纱,借着仅有的一点儿光线,我看出那是玛丽安·哈尔库姆小姐。她的脸变得跟从前不一样了:清瘦而苍白,充满了痛苦和恐惧。

头戴面纱的女人缓慢地向我走来。玛丽安·哈尔库姆跪下来,轻声说:“噢,上帝,帮帮他吧,帮帮他吧,上帝!”

头戴面纱的女人向我走来,缓慢地,无言地向我走来。我注视着她——目不转睛地久久注视着她。她占据了我的一切,我的灵魂和肉体。她在墓碑前停住脚步,我们隔着坟墓互相注视着。

“噢,上帝,帮帮他,帮帮他吧!”

那个女人掀起了面纱。

爱妻劳拉·格莱德夫人之墓……

劳拉·格莱德夫人,她就站在墓碑旁,隔着坟墓望着我。

alt

*  *  *

生活突然间变了。一个崭新的未来展现在我的面前,就像在山顶上看到的撒满阳光的景色。我把过去的故事留在了利默里奇教堂那寂静的阴影中,一星期后在喧闹、繁忙的伦敦开始了新的生活。

我换了一个姓氏租了房子。玛丽安和劳拉也用同样的姓氏,对外人就说是我的姐妹。我靠给廉价杂志画画维持生计。我们没有请仆人,我的姐姐,玛丽安亲自做家务。我和玛丽安对外就说是疯女人安妮·凯瑟里克(住址不详)的朋友,那疯女人总说自己是格莱德夫人。对世界上其他人来说,劳拉·格莱德夫人已经死了;对拒不承认她的叔叔,她已经死了;对把她的财产转给她丈夫和姑妈的律师,她也已经死了。

但是对于玛丽安和我,她还活着!她身无分文,人也变了——她的美丽在消逝,头脑一片混乱——但她还活着,她那可怜的绘画教师要为她奋争,使她重新回到真实的生活中来。她终于属于我了——由我供养、呵护、保护,由我所爱。

10
The rescue

At the first opportunity we had, Marian told me everything that had happened to her and Laura. The hardest part for her was after she had returned to Limmeridge House.

'I was in despair, Walter,' she said. 'Mr Kyrle's investigation was finished, and had shown nothing, he said. Mr Fairlie was no help at all — I heard that he didn't even leave his room to go to the funeral! But he did show me a letter he'd received from Count Fosco, which contained news of Anne Catherick. The Count said that Anne Catherick had been found and put back in the asylum from which she had escaped. But because she hated Sir Percival and wanted to make trouble for him, she was now claiming that she was not Anne Catherick at all, but Lady Glyde. The Count warned Mr Fairlie that if she escaped again, she might try to annoy members of Lady Glyde's family.

'I wasn't well enough to do anything for about a month after returning to Limmeridge, but when I felt stronger, I decided to make some investigations myself. First, I planned to visit the asylum in London and talk to poor Anne Catherick, to find out why she was claiming to be Laura. I knew the address because you had given it to me, all those months ago.

'Well, Walter, you can guess what's coming, I'm sure. The director of the asylum, who seemed an honest person, told me that Anne Catherick had been brought back on 27th July. He was puzzled by some odd personal changes in her, but assumed they were caused by her mental illness. He then called a nurse to take me to Anne Catherick, who was walking in the gardens.

'Imagine the shock, Walter — seeing my dead sister walking towards me in that garden! We just ran into each other's arms, unable to say a word. How the nurse stared at us!'

'I think I know how you must have felt,' I said. 'I shall never forget in the churchyard at Limmeridge... But tell me, however did you get Laura out of the asylum?'

'Bribery, Walter. I didn't want to risk a legal battle and all the delay that would involve, so I persuaded the nurse that a terrible mistake had been made and she would be doing a good thing in helping Anne Catherick escape. And I offered her £400. The plan went smoothly, and by early afternoon the next day Laura and I were on the train to Cumberland.'

'And Laura?' I asked. 'What actually happened on the day she left Blackwater Park and came to London?'

Marian sighed. 'Oh, Walter, it's not at all clear. Poor Laura's mind is so confused now that her memory of events is very unreliable. She can't even remember the date she left Blackwater. All she has been able to tell me is this. The Count met her at the station, and said that I was still in London and that he would take her to see me at once. She doesn't remember where the cab went, but it was clearly not to his house in St John's Wood. She was taken to a house in a narrow street, where people came and went, asking her questions she didn't understand. At this point the Count told her I was now very ill; she was so frightened by this news she nearly fainted. Someone then gave her a glass of water, which she said tasted odd — and after that she lost consciousness.'

'Poor, poor Laura,' I murmured.

'She woke up,' Marian continued, 'in the asylum, unable to leave, unable to make contact with the outside world. She was called by Anne Catherick's name and found she was wearing clothes with Anne Catherick's name on them. She was told Lady Glyde was dead and buried, and that she was Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick... Day in, day out, from 27th July to 15th October, she was made to feel that she was mad. It's hardly surprising her mind is so confused now.'

'And what happened at Limmeridge?' I asked.

Marian turned her face away. 'I can't bear to think about it,' she said. 'The worst part was taking Laura into Mr Fairlie's room. He looked straight into Laura's face and said, "My niece is buried in Limmeridge churchyard. I don't recognize this woman. Remove her from my house before I call on the law to protect me." Even the servants were doubtful about her identity, because she was so much changed and so confused by her experiences. Perhaps people would have been persuaded if we'd stayed longer, but I didn't dare risk it. At any minute the people from the asylum might come looking for us, so I decided to return to London at once and hide. Then, as we were passing the churchyard, Laura insisted on a last look at her mother's grave. And... well, that moment changed our three lives.'

'I think God was guiding Laura's footsteps,' I said.

How well I remember that day — that moment when Laura laid her poor head innocently and trustingly on my shoulder, and said, 'They have tried to make me forget everything, Walter, but I remember Marian, and I remember you.'

*  *  *

The plot against Laura was now clear. Anne Catherick had been taken into Count Fosco's house as Lady Glyde, and Lady Glyde had taken the dead woman's place in the asylum. It was also clear that the three of us could expect no mercy from Count Fosco and Sir Percival, who between them had gained £30,000 from the plot. They would do everything in their power to prevent their crime being discovered, and would hunt for their victim to separate her from her only friends — Marian and myself. This is why I had chosen a poor and crowded part of London to live in. It is easier to hide in a place where people are always coming and going.

Our life quickly took on a regular pattern — work, watching out for our enemies, and care of Laura, whom we surrounded with a gentle, protective love, helping her slowly but steadily to recover her balance of mind and her self-confidence.

Meanwhile, Marian and I began the battle. We studied the statements that Mr Kyrle had taken from witnesses — the doctor, and the servants and cook in Count Fosco's house. I obtained a copy of Lady Glyde's death certificate, and Marian wrote to Mrs Michelson, who replied, saying that she could not remember the exact date of Laura's departure from Blackwater Park. Nor could she remember when the letter announcing Laura's death, which was undated, had arrived from Madame Fosco.

I also arranged to visit Mr Kyrle, to ask for his help. After listening to my long explanation, the lawyer shook his head.

'My legal opinion, Mr Hartright, is that you won't win this case in a court of law. I accept, of course, that the identity of Lady Glyde as a living person is a proved fact to Miss Halcombe and yourself. But there is no evidence. If you could prove that the date on the death certificate was earlier than the date of Lady Glyde's journey to London, then you might have a case.'

As I left, he gave me a letter that had been delivered to him for Marian, and told me, in answer to my question, that Sir Percival Glyde had returned to London.

Outside in the street I soon noticed two men following me, and realized too late that the Count's spies must have been watching the lawyer's office, in the hope that Marian or I would go there. I went home by a very long route and managed to lose them, but it was a warning to me to be more careful.

Marian was very worried when I told her about the two men. Then I gave her the letter. She recognized the writing instantly.

'It's from Count Fosco.'


Dear and admirable woman, do not be afraid! Stay hidden, with your gentle companion, and nothing will happen to you. Challenge nothing, threaten nobody. Do not, I beg you, force me into action. If Mr Hartright returns to England, do not speak to him. If he crosses my path, he is a Lost man. F.


'Walter!' Marian said, her eyes flashing with anger. 'If ever the Count and Sir Percival are at your mercy and you must spare one of them, don't let it be the Count.'

'I'll keep this letter to remind me when the time comes,' I said. 'But tomorrow I will go to Blackwater, to try and find out the date of Laura's journey to London. It's the one weak point in their plot.'

'You mean that perhaps Laura did not leave for London until after the date on the death certificate?'

'Exactly. I think she left on 26th July. The Director of the asylum said she was taken there on the 27th. I doubt if they could have kept her drugged more than one night. We know from Mrs Michelson that Sir Percival left on the same day as Laura. I'll ask everyone in the village if they remember when he left.'

'And if that fails?'

'If that fails, Marian, I'll force a confession from Sir Percival. We have one weapon against him — his secret. Anne Catherick said that if his secret was known, it would ruin him. I intend to find out that secret. The woman in white, though dead in her grave, is still with us and is showing us the way!'


bribery n. persuading a person to act in one's favor by a gift of money or services 贿赂

unreliable adj. not liable 不可靠的

plot n. a conspiracy or secret plan esp. to achieve an unlawful end 阴谋

mercy n. kindness, pity, and willingness to forgive 仁慈

cross one's path meet sb by chance 与…偶然相遇

flash v. burst 闪烁

10.营救

我们刚一有机会交谈,玛丽安就把她和劳拉的遭遇从头到尾讲给我听。最令她难过的是回到利默里奇之后的经历。

“我太绝望了,沃尔特,”她说,“克尔先生的调查结束了,他说什么也没发现。费尔利先生一点儿忙也不帮——我听说他甚至都没离开他的房间去参加葬礼!不过他倒是把福斯科伯爵的信给了我,信里面有安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。伯爵说安妮·凯瑟里克已经找到了,被送回了原来的精神病院。但是,凯瑟里克因为痛恨珀西瓦尔爵士,想给他找麻烦,所以她现在自称不是安妮·凯瑟里克,而是格莱德夫人。伯爵提醒费尔利先生,假如她再逃出来,很可能要给格莱德夫人的家人添乱子。

“回来的头一个月,我身体虚弱,什么也干不了。后来身体恢复了,我决定亲自去调查。首先,我准备去伦敦的精神病院找可怜的安妮·凯瑟里克谈谈,弄清楚为什么她要自称是劳拉。我知道地址,是你几个月前给我的。

“噢,沃尔特,我相信你能猜到接下来发生的事情。精神病院的院长看上去是个正直的人,他告诉我,安妮·凯瑟里克是7月27日被送回来的。他对凯瑟里克身上的变化感到很困惑,但他推测是由于精神方面的疾病造成的。然后,他叫一名护士带我去见安妮·凯瑟里克,她正在花园散步。

“想象一下,当时我有多么震惊,沃尔特——我看到自己死去的妹妹在花园里朝我走来!我们跑向对方,紧紧地抱在一起,一句话也说不出来。护士不解地望着我们。”

“我很清楚你当时的心情,”我说,“我永远不会忘记在利默里奇教堂墓地……可是,你是怎么把劳拉救出精神病院的呢?”

“贿赂,沃尔特。我不想打官司,那样太冒险,也会耽误很长时间。所以,我对护士说,这里一定有严重的误会,如果她能帮助安妮·凯瑟里克逃走,就做了一件天大的好事。之后,我给了她400英镑。计划进行得很顺利,第二天刚过中午,我和劳拉就乘上了开往坎伯兰郡的火车。”

“那么,劳拉呢?”我问,“她离开布莱克沃特庄园到伦敦后,到底发生了什么?”

玛丽安叹了口气,“噢,沃尔特,现在还不清楚。可怜的劳拉思维很乱,她的记忆不可靠。她连离开布莱克沃特的日期都记不起来。她能告诉我的就是,伯爵在车站接她,告诉她我还在伦敦,他要带劳拉马上去见我。她不记得车往哪里走了,但是很明显不是去伯爵在圣约翰伍德的家。她被带进一条小巷里的一间房子,那里人来人往,问一些她听不懂的问题。这时,伯爵告诉她我病得很严重,她听了非常害怕,几乎昏了过去。接着有人给了她一杯水,她说水的味道很怪,之后她就失去了知觉。”

“可怜的劳拉。”我低声自语着。

“她醒来以后,”玛丽安接着说,“发现自己在精神病院里,既不能离开,也无法同外界接触。别人叫她安妮·凯瑟里克,她发现自己穿着有安妮·凯瑟里克名字的衣服。别人告诉她格莱德夫人已经死了,被安葬了,她就是安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克……一天又一天,从7月27日到10月15日,他们强迫她认为自己疯了。难怪现在她思维混乱。”

“在利默里奇发生了什么?”我问道。

玛丽安把头转向一侧。“我简直不忍心想在那儿发生的事情。”她回答,“最糟的就是我带劳拉走进费尔利先生的房间后,他紧盯着劳拉的脸说:‘我侄女已经埋在利默里奇教堂墓地了。我不认识这个女人。赶快带她出去,不然我要用法律来保护自己了。’仆人们也对劳拉的身份很怀疑,因为她变化太大了,她的经历也让她思绪异常混乱。也许我们逗留的时间长一些,大家会被说服,但是我不想冒这个险,因为精神病院的人随时都会来找我们,所以我决定马上回伦敦躲起来。当我们经过教堂的时候,劳拉坚持要最后再看一眼她母亲的坟墓。后来……嗯,那一刻改变了我们三个人的生活。”

“我想是上帝在引导着劳拉的脚步。”我说。

我清楚地记得那天——可怜的劳拉将头依偎在我的肩头,充满了纯洁与信任。她说:“他们想叫我忘掉一切,沃尔特,但我还记得玛丽安,我还记得。”

*  *  *

针对劳拉的阴谋现在已经清楚了。安妮·凯瑟里克被当作格莱德夫人带进了福斯科伯爵的家里,格莱德夫人在精神病院里取代了那个已经死了的女人的位置。还有一点也很明显,福斯科伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士是不会放过我们三个的。他们两人从这个阴谋中得到30,000英镑。他们会尽一切可能不让他们的罪行败露,也会极力追寻他们所陷害的人,并把她同她的朋友们——玛丽安和我——分开。这就是为什么我选择伦敦一处既贫穷又拥挤的地方住下来,因为在一个人来人往的地方比较容易躲藏。

我们的生活很快形成了一个较为固定的模式——工作,留意我们的敌人,照顾劳拉。我们细心地照顾她,保护她,帮助她慢慢地恢复正常的思维和自信心。

与此同时,玛丽安和我开始了紧张的调查。我们仔细研究克尔先生记录的证词——分别来自医生以及伯爵家的仆人和厨师。我弄到了一份格莱德夫人的死亡证明。玛丽安给米切尔森太太写信,米切尔森太太回信说记不清劳拉离开布莱克沃特庄园的确切日期了,也记不清福斯科夫人来信通知他们劳拉死讯的具体时间了,那封信没有注明日期。

我还安排与克尔先生见面,请求他的帮助。听我把前因后果一一讲完后,克尔先生摇了摇头。

“作为律师,哈特里特先生,我认为你不会赢得这场官司。当然我同意,你和哈尔库姆小姐可以证明格莱德夫人还活着,但是你没有证据。如果你能证明死亡证明上的时间比格莱德夫人去伦敦的时间,那你可能会赢这场官司。”

我要离开的时候,他交给我一封信,是要他转给玛丽安的。同时,他在回答我的提问时透露,珀西瓦尔爵士已经回到伦敦了。

在外面的街道上,我很快注意到有两个人在跟踪我。我这才意识到伯爵的人肯定一直在监视克尔先生的办公室,以防玛丽安和我会到那儿去。我绕远路回家,设法甩掉了跟踪我的人,但是这件事提醒我今后要更加小心。

我把两个人跟踪我的事告诉了玛丽安,她非常担心。我把那封信交给她,她马上就认出了写信人的笔迹。

“是福斯科伯爵写的。”


亲爱的、尊敬的女士,请不要害怕!继续同你温柔的伙伴藏好,你们就不会有事。不要试图做任何事情,不要给任何人带来威胁。我请求你们,不要强迫我采取行动。如果哈特里特先生回英国来,不要同他接触。假如他找我的麻烦,他就死定了。福斯科。


“沃尔特!”玛丽安眼里闪着愤怒的光,“如果伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士落到你的手里,而你又必须放过他们中的一个的话,一定不要放过伯爵。”

“我要留着这封信,让它到时候提醒我应该怎么做,”我说,“明天我要去一趟布莱克沃特,查一查劳拉去伦敦的日期。这是他们阴谋中的一个漏洞。”

“你是说劳拉可能是在死亡证明上的日期之后才去伦敦的?”

“没错。我想她是7月26日动身的。精神病院的院长说她是27日被送进去的。我怀疑他们是否能让劳拉昏迷超过一晚上的时间。米切尔森太太说,珀西瓦尔爵士是和劳拉同一天离开的。我要问村里的每一个人,是不是还记得珀西瓦尔爵士什么时候离开的。”

“如果这样不行呢?”

“如果不行的话,玛丽安,我就逼珀西瓦尔爵士认罪。我们用他的秘密对付他,安妮·凯瑟里克说如果他的秘密让人知道了,那他就完了。我想查出他的秘密来。那个白衣女人虽说已经死了,但是还同我们在一起,她会为我们引路的!”

11
The investigation

The story of my first enquiries in Hampshire is soon told. Not a single person in the village of Blackwater could remember exactly when Sir Percival Glyde had left. Even the gardener at the house could only say it was some time in the last ten days of July.

'So, on to the next plan,' I said to Marian back in London, 'which is to pursue the secret. I need to talk to Anne Catherick's mother, but first I must find out something about her from Mrs Clements, Anne's friend. But how do I find Mrs Clements?'

Marian had the answer to that. 'You remember the farm she and Anne stayed at near Limmeridge? We'll write to them — they might know Mrs Clements' address.'

We were lucky. The farmer's wife did know the address, and wrote back by return to tell us. It was in London, not far from our rooms, and the next morning I was knocking at the door.

Mrs Clements was anxious to know if I had brought her any news of Anne, and very sad to learn that I had not. However, she was willing to tell me everything she knew.

'After leaving Limmeridge, sir,' she said, 'Anne and I went to live in the northeast of England, and that's when Anne started to suffer from heart disease. She wasn't at all well, but she insisted on travelling to Hampshire, because she wanted to speak to Lady Glyde. So we went there and stayed in a village near Blackwater — not too close as Anne was so frightened of Sir Percival.

'Each time Anne went to the lake to try to speak to Lady Glyde, I followed her at a distance. But the long walks made her so exhausted that she became ill again, so finally I went to the lake in her place to meet Lady Glyde. She didn't come that day, but a very fat man came instead with a message from her. The message was that we should return to London immediately, as Sir Percival would certainly find us if we stayed longer. Lady Glyde was going to London herself very soon and if we sent her our address, she would contact us.'

'But she didn't, did she?' I said, thinking how cleverly Count Fosco had lied to this kind woman.

'No, sir. I found lodgings and sent the address to Lady Glyde, but after two weeks we'd still heard nothing. Then one day a lady called in a cab. She said she came from Lady Glyde, who was staying at a hotel and wanted to arrange an interview with Anne. I agreed to go with this lady to make the arrangement, leaving Anne alone in our lodgings. But it was a wicked plot, sir. On the way the lady stopped the cab, saying she just had to collect something from a shop and would I wait for a few minutes. She never came back, sir. I waited for some time, and then I hurried home — and found Anne gone. Just disappeared.'

I asked Mrs Clements to describe this 'lady', and it seemed clear from her description that it was Madame Fosco. So I now knew how the Count had got Anne Catherick to London and separated her from Mrs Clements.

'I never found out what happened to Anne,' Mrs Clements said sadly. 'I made enquiries. I even wrote to her mother, but she didn't know anything. I miss poor Anne so much. She was like a daughter to me, you see, sir.'

'And I'm sure you were a kind mother to her,' I said. 'A better mother than her own mother.'

'That wasn't difficult,' said Mrs Clements. 'Mrs Catherick is a hard woman. She seemed to hate the child, and was only too pleased when I offered to bring her up. Then one day she took Anne to Limmeridge to stay with a sister, and after that she kept Anne from me. I didn't see Anne again till she escaped from the asylum — with your help, sir. And then she was always talking about a secret her mother had which could ruin Sir Percival. But you know, sir, I don't think Anne really knew what this secret was. If she had known, I'm sure she would have told me.'

I had wondered about that myself, and now I tried to turn the conversation on to Mrs Catherick.

'Did you know Mrs Catherick before Anne was born?'

'Yes, for about four months. We were neighbours in Welmingham. Mr and Mrs Catherick had just got married, and Mr Catherick had a job as clerk at Welmingham church. Before that, Mrs Catherick had been a servant at a large house. She was a selfish, heartless woman, and treated her poor husband very badly. Before long, there was a lot of talk about her and a young gentleman, who was staying at a hotel nearby. And Mr Catherick told my husband that he'd found expensive presents, gold rings and suchlike, hidden in his wife's drawer.'

'And who was this gentleman?' I asked.

'You know him, sir. And so did my poor dear Anne.'

'Sir Percival Glyde?' My heart began to beat faster. Was I getting close to the secret?

'That's right. His father had recently died abroad, and Sir Percival had just arrived in the neighbourhood. People thought, you see, that maybe Mrs Catherick had known Sir Percival before, and had married Mr Catherick just to save her reputation, because of, well, you know... Anyway, one night Mr Catherick found his wife whispering with Sir Percival outside the vestry of the church. They had a fight, but Sir Percival beat him and Mr Catherick left the village, never to return again. And in spite of all the talk in the village, Mrs Catherick stayed. She said she was innocent and that no one would drive her away. But most people thought that the money she lived on came from Sir Percival.'

The secret was here somewhere. But where? That Sir Percival was Anne's father was hardly a secret since everyone already thought that. No, there was another mystery somewhere.

'And what did you think, Mrs Clements?'

'Well, sir, if you worked out time and place, it was obvious that Mr Catherick wasn't Anne's father. But Anne wasn't at all like Sir Percival; and nor was she like her mother.'

I wondered about the house where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Perhaps I would make some enquiries later.

'You've been very kind, Mrs Clements,' I said, 'answering all my questions. One last request. Will you tell me Mrs Catherick's address? I have to find out this secret, and only she can tell me.'

Mrs Clements gave me the address, but shook her head. 'Take care, sir. She's an awful woman. You don't know her as I do.'

*  *  *

Back at our rooms I announced my intention to Marian of going to Welmingham. She was very uneasy about the plan.

'Are you sure it's wise, Walter? Sir Percival is a violent man.'

'I'm more afraid for you and Laura,' I said, 'left alone in London, with the Count as your enemy.'

We arranged to write to each other every day; and if no letter came from her, I would take the first train back to London.

*  *  *

Three days later I was standing in Mrs Catherick's sitting room, face to face with a grey-haired woman, dressed in black silk. Her dark eyes looked straight at me with a hard, cold stare.

'You say you have come to speak to me about my daughter,' she said. 'Please say what you have to say.'

Her voice was as hard as the expression in her eyes. She pointed to a chair, and looked at me carefully as I sat down.

'You know,' I said, 'that your daughter is lost?'

'I know that perfectly well.'

'Don't you worry that she might not be just lost, but that she might have met with her death?'

'Yes. Have you come to tell me that she is dead?'

'I have.'

'Why?'

She asked that extraordinary question without the slightest change in her voice, face, or manner. I might have been talking about the death of a cat in the street.

'I thought Anne's mother might be interested in knowing if she was alive or dead.'

'Just so,' she said. 'But what is your interest in her, or in me? Have you no other reason for coming here?'

'Yes, I do,' I said. 'Your daughter's death has caused someone I love to be harmed — by a man called Sir Percival Glyde.'

She did not react at all at the mention of his name.

'I want to make him confess to his crime. You know certain things about him from the time when your husband was the church clerk. I want you to tell me about them.'

At last I saw the anger burning in her eyes.

'What do you know about those events?'

'Everything that Mrs Clements could tell me.'

'Mrs Clements is a foolish woman.' She bit back her anger, and her lips curled in an unpleasant little smile. 'Ah, I begin to understand. You want your revenge on Sir Percival Glyde, and you want my help. That's why you've come here. Well, you don't know me. I've spent years getting back my reputation in this village. Now everyone respects me. I won't help you.'

'If you're afraid of Sir Percival, that's quite understandable,' I said. 'He's a powerful man, and comes from a great family —'

To my amazement, she suddenly burst out laughing.

'From a great family! Yes, indeed! Especially from his mother's side,' she said with disgust.

Whatever did she mean by that, I wondered?

'The secret between you and Sir Percival was not guilty love,' I insisted. 'It was something else that brought you and him to those stolen meetings outside the vestry of the church.'

As I said the words 'vestry of the church', I saw a wave of terror pass across her face.

'Go!' she said. 'And never come back. Unless' — and she gave a slow, cruel smile — 'unless you bring news of his death.'

*  *  *

It was now late, and I made my way to the nearest hotel. There was much to think about. Why should mention of the church vestry cause terror? Why the disgust at Sir Percival's family, especially his mother? Was there something unusual about his parents' marriage? Perhaps the local marriage register was kept in the vestry of Welmingham church...

The next day I went to the church. I had been aware of being followed the previous evening, and now I caught sight of the same two men I had seen outside Mr Kyrle's office in London. It seemed that Sir Percival had expected me to visit Mrs Catherick, and was now expecting me to visit Welmingham church — proof, surely, that my investigation was going in the right direction.

I found the church clerk, who fetched his keys and took me to the vestry. It could only be entered from the outside of the church, and the clerk had great difficulty opening the lock, which was very old. Once inside, I asked to see the marriage register. It was kept in a cupboard which could easily be forced open.

'Is that a safe enough place to keep the register?' I said.

'Safe enough,' the clerk said. 'A copy is kept by a lawyer in the next village — Mr Wansborough's office in Knowlesbury.'

I worked backwards in the register from Sir Percival's year of birth and there, under September of the previous year, squashed into a small space at the bottom of the page, was the record of the marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster of Knowlesbury. Just the usual information. Nothing apparently peculiar about Sir Percival's mother. The secret seemed further away than ever.

But on to Knowlesbury, and Mr Wansborough's office — a five-mile walk, but possible to get there and back by the end of the day. It was worth checking the copy of the register, and perhaps the lawyer would know something that might be useful.


pursue v. continue to investigate 继续调查

lodgings n. rooms rented for lodging in 租用的房子

bring up raise 抚养

heartless adj. unfeeling, pitiless 无情的

vestry n. a room or building attached to a church for keeping vestments in 教堂的法衣室

react v. undergo a change or show behaviour due to some influence 反应

bite back restrain 克制

burst out suddenly begin 突然做……

disgust n. strong aversion 不屑

make one's way to go to 到……去

catch sight of see, find 看到

11.调查

下面是我在汉普郡初步调查的情况。布莱克沃特村没有一个人记得珀西瓦尔爵士离开的确切时间。园丁也仅仅记得大概是7月下旬。

“那么,开始下一步行动吧,”回到伦敦我对玛丽安说,“查出那个秘密来。我需要找到安妮·凯瑟里克的母亲,但我必须首先找到安妮的朋友克莱门茨太太,从她那里了解一些情况。可怎么才能找到克莱门茨太太?”

玛丽安想出了办法:“还记得克莱门茨太太和安妮在利默里奇附近住过的农场吗?我们给他们写信,也许他们知道克莱门茨太太的地址。”

我们很幸运,农场主的妻子真的知道地址,她回信告诉了我们。她就住在伦敦,离我们住的地方不远。第二天上午,我就找到了那个地方,敲响了房门。

克莱门茨太太急切地想知道我是否带来了安妮的消息,当我告诉她没有的时候,她非常难过。不过,她愿意把她知道的一切都告诉我。

“离开利默里奇以后,先生,”她对我说,“安妮和我去了英国东北部,这个时候安妮得了心脏病。她身体很不好,但她坚持到汉普郡去见格莱德夫人。所以我们就去了那儿,住在布莱克沃特附近的一个村子里——那地方离布莱克沃特不是很近,因为安妮非常害怕珀西瓦尔爵士。

“每一次安妮到湖边去见格莱德夫人,我都在远处跟着她。但是走那么远的路让她非常疲劳,结果她又病了。最后我代替她到湖边去见格莱德夫人。那天格莱德夫人没有来,来的是一个很胖的男人,他捎来了格莱德夫人的口信,让我们赶快回伦敦,因为如果在这里呆久了,珀西瓦尔爵士肯定会发现我们。格莱德夫人自己很快也会到伦敦去,如果我们把地址给她,她会跟我们联系。”

“但是她没跟你们联系,对吗?”我问,心想伯爵对这个善良的女人说的谎真是高明啊。

“没错,先生。我找到了住处,把地址寄给了格莱德夫人,可是两个星期过去了,我们没收到任何回音。后来,有一天一位夫人乘马车到这里来。她说她从格莱德夫人那儿来,格莱德夫人住在一家旅店,想安排同安妮见面。我答应同那位夫人去安排见面的事,把安妮一个人留在住处。可这是个恶毒的阴谋,先生。走到半路,那位夫人说要去商店取点儿东西,让我等几分钟。她去了就再没回来,先生。我等了好一阵子,然后赶忙回家——回来后却发现安妮不见了。就这么消失了。”

我让克莱门茨太太描述一下那位“夫人”的样子,根据她的描述,那人很显然是福斯科夫人。现在我明白伯爵是怎么把安妮·凯瑟里克弄到伦敦,又怎么把她和克莱门茨太太分开的了。

“我不知道安妮到底出了什么事,”克莱门茨太太伤心地说,“我调查过,甚至给她母亲写过信,但是她什么也不知道。我现在非常想念可怜的安妮。你知道,她就像我的女儿一样,先生。”

“我相信你是她的好母亲,”我说,“比她的亲生母亲还要亲。”

“那倒没什么难的,”克莱门茨太太说,“凯瑟里克太太是一个铁石心肠的女人。她好像仇视这个孩子,我提出抚养这孩子时,她非常高兴。后来有一天她把安妮带到利默里奇同她的妹妹住在一起。再后来,她就不让我见安妮了。安妮从精神病院逃出来之前,我就再没见到过她。她逃出来还是你帮的忙呢,先生。从那以后,她—直说她母亲知道一个秘密,那秘密会毁了珀西瓦尔爵士。但是,先生,我觉得安妮并不真的知道那个秘密。如果她真的知道,我相信她早就告诉我了。”

我自己也想过这个问题。但是,现在我努力把话题转向凯瑟里克太太。

“安妮出生前,你就认识凯瑟里克太太吗?”

“认识,大概有四个月的时间。我们在韦明翰是邻居。当时凯瑟里克夫妇刚刚结婚,凯瑟里克先生在韦明翰教堂当职员。结婚前,凯瑟里克太太在一个大户人家当仆人。她是一个自私、狠心的女人,对她可怜的丈夫非常不好。不久,关于她和住在附近旅店的一个年轻人有了很多风言风语。凯瑟里克先生对我丈夫说,他发现他妻子的抽屉里藏着许多贵重礼物,金戒指什么的。”

“那个年轻人是谁?”我问。

“你认识他,先生。我可怜的安妮也认识他。”

“珀西瓦尔爵士?”我的心跳开始加速。我是不是接近那个秘密了?

“就是他。他父亲那时在国外去世,珀西瓦尔爵士刚刚到这里来。大家都说很可能凯瑟里克太太早就认识珀西瓦尔爵士,她和凯瑟里克先生结婚就是想挽救自己的名声,因为,嗯,你知道……不管怎样,一天晚上,凯瑟里克先生看到他妻子和珀西瓦尔爵士在教堂的法衣室外窃窃私语。他们打了起来。珀西瓦尔爵士打了他。之后,凯瑟里克先生就离开了那个村子,再也没回来。尽管村子里流言满天飞,凯瑟里克太太还是一直住在那里。”她说自己是清白的,谁也赶不走她。不过大多数人都认为她是靠珀西瓦尔爵士的钱维持生活的。”

秘密就在这里。可是到底是什么呢?珀西瓦尔爵士是安妮的父亲,这已经不是什么秘密了,大家早就这么想了。不对,这里一定还有隐情。

“那你怎么看,克莱门茨太太?”

“嗯,如果从时间和地点来看,很明显凯瑟里克先生不是安妮的父亲。但是,安妮一点儿也不像珀西瓦尔爵士,也不像她母亲。”

我想到凯瑟里克太太当仆人的那家,也许什么时候我可以到那儿调查一下。

“真是太谢谢了,克莱门茨太太,”我说,“你回答了我那么多问题。最后我还有个请求,你能告诉我凯瑟里克太太的地址吗?我必须查清楚这个秘密,只有她可以告诉我。”

克莱门茨太太把地址给了我,但是摇了摇头,“你要小心,先生。她是一个很可怕的女人,你没有我了解她。”

*  *  *

回到住处,我把要去韦明翰的想法告诉了玛丽安,她非常担优。

“你觉得这样好吗,沃尔特?珀西瓦尔爵士是个心狠手辣的人。”

“我更担心的是你和劳拉,”我说,“就你们两个留在伦敦,还要对付伯爵。”

我们商量好每天都互相写信,如果没有收到玛丽安的来信,我就搭乘最早的一班火车回伦敦来。

*  *  *

三天后,我已经站在凯瑟里克太太的客厅里了。我面前是一个头发灰白的女人,穿着黑色绸衣。她的一双黑眼睛冷冷地盯着我。

“你说你来跟我谈我女儿的事,”她开口说,“有什么话就请讲吧。”

她的声音像她的眼神一样冷。她指了指一把椅子,我坐下以后,她开始仔细地打量我。

“你知道,”我说,“你女儿失踪了吗?”

“我非常清楚。”

“难道你不担心她可能不光是失踪了,有可能她已经死了?”

“我想过。那你是来告诉我,她已经死了?”

“是的。”

“为什么?”

提出这样荒谬的问题,她的声音、表情和举止居然没有任何变化,就好像我刚才谈的是街上死了一只猫。

“我原以为安妮的母亲会关心她的生死。”

“就为了这个啊,”她说,“但是你为什么对她或我感兴趣呢?你到这里来没有其他原因?”

“有,”我回答,“你女儿的死使我所爱的人受到了伤害——是一个叫珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士的人干的。”

我提到了珀西瓦尔的名字,她一点儿反应都没有。

“我要让他承认他所犯下的罪行,你丈夫在教堂当职员的时候,你就知道了他的一些事,我希望你把所知道的告诉我。”

我终于在她眼里看到了愤怒的目光。

“你是怎么知道这些事的?”

“克莱门茨太太把她知道的都告诉我了。”

“克莱门茨太太是个愚蠢的女人。”她压下怒火,双唇勾起一丝恶意的微笑。“呵,我开始懂了。要向珀西瓦尔爵士报仇,需要帮忙。这就是你来这里的原因。你不了解我。我在这个村子住了这么多年,才挽回我的名誉。现在大家都很尊敬我,我不会帮你的。”

“如果你害怕珀西瓦尔爵士,那是可以理解的,”我说,“他是个有权势的人,出身名门——”

令我吃惊的是,她突然大笑起来。

“出身名门!是,没错!尤其是他母亲那一边。”她不屑地说。

她这话是什么意思?我不明白。

“你和他之间的秘密不是什么婚外情,”我接着说,“是别的事情使得你们在教堂的法衣室外秘密见面。”

在提到“教堂的法衣室”时,我注意到她的脸上掠过一阵恐惧。

“滚出去!”她大声喊着,“再也不要回来。除非”——她脸上慢慢露出残忍的笑意——“除非你来告诉我他死了。”

*  *  *

天色已晚,我朝最近的旅店走去。有许多问题需要思考。为什么提到教堂的法衣室她就害怕了?为什么她瞧不起珀西瓦尔爵士的家庭,特别是他的母亲?难道他父母的婚姻有什么特别的地方?也许当地的婚姻登记记录就存放在韦明翰教堂的法衣室……

第二天我去了教堂。我已经注意到前一天晚上有人跟踪我,这会儿我又看到在伦敦克尔先生办公室外见到的那两个人在跟着我。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士已经料到我要来见凯瑟里克太太,现在又料到我来韦明翰教堂——这些恰好证明我的调查方向是正确的。

我找到了教堂职员,他找来钥匙,带我来到教堂的法衣室。法衣室只能从教堂外面进去,职员费了好大劲儿才打开那把旧锁。进去以后,我说要看看婚姻登记记录。那些记录放在一个柜子里,柜子的门很容易被撬开。

“婚姻登记记录放在这里安全吗?”我问。

“很安全,”职员回答,“另一个副本存放在邻村的律师那里,就是万斯伯勒先生的办公室,在诺雷斯伯里。”

我从珀西瓦尔爵士出生那年的记录开始往前面查,在前一年的9月,有一页在靠下的角落里记着费利克斯·格莱德爵士和诺雷斯伯里的塞西莉亚结婚。只是非常一般的记录,看不出珀西瓦尔爵士的母亲有什么特殊的地方。秘密好像比以前离我更远了。

接下来,我奔赴诺雷斯伯里万斯伯勒先生的办公室——大约有5英里的路程,但是在天黑前赶回来还是可能的。很有必要查看一下记录的副本,也许律师会知道一些有用的信息。

12
The secret

Sir Percival's spies attacked me on the road to Knowlesbury. One of them came up beside me, and bumped into me with his shoulder. I pushed him away, hard, and he immediately shouted for help. The other man ran up and the two of them held me between them. The first man accused me of attacking him, and they said they would take me to the police station in the town.

What could I do? I couldn't fight both of them and hope to get away, so I had to go with them.

At the police station the first man accused me of a violent attack, and the second man said he was a witness. I was locked up until the next magistrate's court, which was three days away. I could be released on bail, I was told, but how could I, a total stranger in the town, find a responsible person willing to pay money for my temporary freedom? The whole plan was now clear — to get me out of the way for three days, while Sir Percival did whatever was necessary to prevent his secret being discovered.

At first I was too angry to think clearly. Then I remembered Mr Dawson, the doctor. I had been to his house on my previous visit to Blackwater, so I knew his address. I wrote him a letter, explaining what had happened and begging for his help, and then asked for a messenger to deliver it. Two hours later the good doctor appeared, paid the required money and I was set free.

There was no time to lose. The news of my being free would doubtless reach Sir Percival within hours. I hurried to the lawyer's office, where I asked if I could see the copy of the Welmingham marriage register. Mr Wansborough was a pleasant man and agreed to show me the copy. In fact, he was quite amused. No one had asked to see it since his father (now dead) had locked it away in the office more than twenty years before.

As I opened the register, my hands trembled. I turned the pages to the year and month. I found the names I remembered just before, and just after, the marriage of Sir Percival's parents. And between these entries, at the bottom of the page...?

Nothing! The marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster was not there! I looked again, to be sure. No, nothing. Not a doubt about it. Sir Percival must have seen the space in the Welmingham register and written in the marriage himself.

I had never once suspected this. He was not Sir Percival Glyde at all! His parents had not been married, so he had no right to the inheritance of Blackwater Park, no right to the rank of Baronet, no right even to the name of Glyde! This was his secret — and it was now mine to use against him!

The copy of the register would be safe enough in the lawyer's office, but I decided to go back to Welmingham and make a copy of the false record from the church register. It was dark now and I ran all the way to the church clerk's house. I knocked on his door, but when he appeared, he looked suspicious and confused.

'Where are the keys?' he asked. 'Have you taken them?'

'What keys do you mean?' I said. 'I've just this minute arrived from Knowlesbury.'

'The keys of the vestry,' he said. 'The keys are gone! Someone's broken in and taken the keys.'

'Get a light,' I said, 'and let's go to the vestry. Quick!'

We ran to the church. On the path we passed a man who looked at us with frightened eyes. He seemed to be a servant of some kind. We did not stop to question him, but ran on.

As we came in sight of the vestry, I saw a high window brilliantly lit from within. There was a strange smell on the night air, a sound of cracking wood, and the light grew brighter and brighter. I ran to the door and put my hand on it. The vestry was on fire!

I heard the key working violently in the lock — I heard a man's voice behind the door, raised in terror, screaming for help.

'Oh, my God!' said the servant, who had followed us, 'it's Sir Percival!'

'God help him!' said the clerk. 'He's damaged the lock.'

*  *  *

At that moment I forget the man's crimes and see only the horror of his situation. Several people are now running towards the church and I call to them to help me break down the door. We look desperately for something to use, and at last someone finds a long heavy piece of wood.

By now the flames are shooting up out of the window, and the screams have stopped. We get the wood into position and run at the door with it. Again, and again! At last the door crashes down, but a wave of heat hits our faces and drives us back — and in the room we see nothing but a sheet of living fire.

*  *  *

The church itself was saved as the fire engine arrived soon afterwards and managed to put out the fire before it spread. They carried out the body of Sir Percival Glyde and laid it on the wet ground. I looked down on his dead face and this was how, for the first and last time, I saw him.

He must have heard that I was free and on my way back to Welmingham, so he hurried to the church, stealing the keys and locking himself in to prevent anyone coming in and finding him. All he could do was tear the page out of the register and destroy it. If the false record no longer existed, I could produce no evidence to threaten him with. He must have dropped his lamp by accident, which started the fire. Then in his urgency to get out, the lock had become damaged and the key unmoveable.

I could not leave the town. There would be a legal enquiry into the accident the next day, which I had to attend, and in any case I had to report back to the police station in Knowlesbury. I returned to the hotel and wrote to Marian, telling her everything that had happened and warning her to keep the news from Laura for the moment. With Sir Percival's death, my hopes of establishing Laura's identity had also died, and I could see no way forward at present.

The next day an envelope with my name on was delivered to the hotel. The letter inside was neither dated nor signed, but before I had read the first sentence, I knew who had written it — Mrs Catherick.


Sir — I thought you were my enemy. Now that he is dead, because of you, I consider you my friend. To thank you for what you have done, I will now tell you the things you wanted to know about my private life.

Twenty-three years ago I was a beautiful young woman living in Welmingham, married to a fool of a husband. I also knew a gentleman — I shall not call him by his name. Why should I? It was not his own. I was born with expensive tastes. This man gave me expensive presents. Naturally he wanted something in return — all men do. And what did he want? Just a little thing. The key to the church vestry, when my husband's back was turned. I liked my presents, so I got him the key. I watched him in the vestry without his knowing, and saw what he was doing. I did not know then how serious a crime it was. I said I would not tell anyone about the marriage he had added to the register if he told me about his private life. He agreed — why, you will see in a moment.

He said that he only found out that his parents were not married after his mother's death. His father confessed to it and promised to do what he could for his son. But he died having done nothing. The son came to England and took possession of the property. There was no one to say he could not. In fact, the right person to claim the property was a distant relation away at sea. However, to borrow money on the property, he needed a certificate of his parents' marriage. This was a problem — a problem which brought him to Welmingham.

As his parents had mostly lived abroad and had had no social life in England, who was to say (the priest being dead) that a private marriage had not taken place at Welmingham church? His plan was to tear out a page from the marriage register in the year before his birth and destroy it. Then he would tell his lawyers in London to get the necessary certificate, innocently referring them to the date on the page that was gone. At least no one could say that his parents were not married.

However, when he saw there was a small space at the bottom of the page in the right year, he changed his plan and took the opportunity to write in the marriage himself. It took him some time, though, to practise the handwriting and to mix the right colour of ink, so that it looked the same.

After my husband caught me talking secretly to him and after their fight together, I asked my fine gentleman to clear my name and to say there had been nothing between us. But he refused. He wanted everyone to believe something false, so that they would never suspect the truth. He then told me that the punishment for his crime, and anyone who helped him, was life in prison. He frightened me! If I spoke out, I was just as lost as he was. He then agreed to make me a yearly payment if I said nothing and stayed in Welmingham, where he could always find me and where there was no danger of my making friends and talking. This was hard, but I accepted.

Many years later, when my daughter was with me at home, I received a letter from him which made me very angry. I lost control of myself and said, in her presence, that 'I could destroy him if I let out his secret'. Then one day he came to our house and called her a fool. Immediately she shouted, 'Ask for my pardon, now, or I'll let out your secret and destroy your life. 'My own words! He went white. Then he swore at us. It ended, as you know, by his shutting her up in an asylum. I tried to tell him she knew nothing. But he did not believe me. My daughter knew that she had frightened him and that he was responsible for shutting her up because he believed she knew his secret. That's why she hated him. But she never to her dying day knew what his secret actually was.

I will end by saying that you insult me if you think my husband was not my daughter's father. Please do not ask further questions about that. To protect myself, I mention no names in this letter, nor do I sign it.


magistrate n. an official conducting a court for minor cases 法官

bail n. money left with a court of law to prove that a prisoner will return when their trial starts 保释金

entry n. an item 条目

brilliantly adv. very brightly 非常亮

produce v. bring forward for consideration or inspection 拿出

12.秘密

在去往诺雷斯伯里的路上,珀西瓦尔爵士的人向我发起了攻击。其中一个走到我旁边,用肩膀撞我。我用力把他推开,他马上大喊起来。另一个人跑过来,他们两个把我夹在了中间。第一个人指责我打他,他们说要把我带到镇上的警察局去。

我能怎么办呢?我没办法打倒他们两个再逃走,现在只得跟他们走了。

到了警察局,第一个人说我打他,另一个人说他是证人。我被关了起来,等着三天后法官开庭审理。他们告诉我可以保释,可是我在这里一个人也不认识,怎么可能找到一个愿意负责的人出钱让我获得暂时的自由呢?他们的整个计划很清楚——让我消失三天,珀西瓦尔爵士就利用这段时间尽一切可能保证他的秘密不被发现。

刚开始,我非常气愤,头脑中一片混乱。后来我想起了道森先生,那位医生。上一次我去布莱克沃特的时候到过他家,所以我知道他的地址。我给他写了封信,告诉他出了什么事,请求他来帮我,然后找了一个送信的帮我把信送走。两个小时后,好心的医生来了,为我交了保释金,我自由了。

必须抓紧时间,因为我被释放的消息肯定几个小时之内就会传到珀西瓦尔爵士那里。我赶到律师的办公室,请求看一下韦明翰的结婚登记记录。万斯伯勒先生是个和气的人,他同意让我看副本。其实,应该说他很高兴,因为自从他父亲(现在已经去世了)20多年前把文件锁在办公室后,从未有人要求查看过。

我翻开记录副本的时候双手在颤抖。我找到了珀西瓦尔爵士父母结婚的年份和月份,以及在他们之前和之后结婚的男女方姓名记录。但是,在这些条目之间,在那一页的底下……?

什么也没有!费利克斯·格莱德爵士和塞西莉亚·埃尔斯特的婚姻根本就没有记录!为了保险起见,我又看了一遍。没有,什么也没有,毫无疑问。珀西瓦尔爵士可能在韦明翰的记录中看到了那个空白,然后自己填上了那条记录。

我从未怀疑到这一点。他根本就不是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士,他的父母没有结婚,他根本没有权利继承布莱克沃特庄园和爵位,甚至根本无权姓格莱德!这就是他的秘密——现在我要利用这个秘密来对付他!

婚姻登记的副本放在律师的办公室很安全,我决定返回韦明翰,复制一份教堂的假记录。天已经黑了,我一路跑到教堂职员的住处。我敲了门,职员出来的时候,脸上布满了疑虑。

“钥匙在哪儿?”他问我,“你把钥匙拿走了吗?”

“什么钥匙?”我说,“我刚从诺雷斯伯里过来。”

“法衣室的钥匙,”他说,“钥匙不见了!有人进来偷走了钥匙。”

“拿上灯,”我说,“我们去法衣室,快!”

我们向教堂跑去。路上碰见一个人,似乎是个仆人,他惊慌地看了看我们。我们没有停下来问他任何问题,而是继续向前跑。

当我们看到法衣室的时候,我发现从一个高处的窗户里发出很亮的光,夜晚的空气中有一股奇怪的味道,可以听到木头劈啪作响的声音,那光变得越来越亮。我跑到法衣室的门口,用手摸了摸门。法衣室起火了!

我听到钥匙在锁里使劲转动的声音——我听到门后有人害怕地高声喊救命。

“噢,上帝!”跟着我们跑过来的仆人说,“是珀西瓦尔爵士!”

“上帝啊,救救他!”职员说,“他把锁弄坏了。”

alt

*  *  *

这个时候,我忘记了这个人的罪恶,只想到他现在的危急处境。有几个人正朝教堂跑过来,我叫他们帮我把门弄开。我们到处找能弄开门的东西,最后有人找来一根很粗的长木头。

这时,火焰已经窜出了窗户,呼叫声已听不见了。我们抬着长木头,一次又一次朝门撞过去。最后门被撞倒了,热浪从屋里冲出来,使我们不得不往后退去——屋里除了一团火什么也看不见。

*  *  *

救火车很快赶到,没等火势蔓延就把火扑灭了,教堂本身没有受到破坏。人们把珀西瓦尔爵士的尸体抬了出来,放在潮湿的地上。我看了看他的脸,这是我第一次也是最后一次看到他。

他一定是听说我被放出来,而且正赶回韦明翰,所以急忙赶到教堂,偷了钥匙,把自己锁在屋子里,不让任何人进去发现他。他唯一能做的就是把那一页从登记簿上撕下来销毁。如果假记录没有了,我就拿不出证据来威胁他。他可能不小心把灯掉到地上,引起了大火。然后,他急着要出来,匆忙中弄坏了锁,钥匙转不动了。

我现在还不能离开这里。转天会有一个事故的法律调查,我必须参加。而且不管怎样,我还得向诺雷斯伯里的警察局报到。我回到旅店,写信给玛丽安,告诉她这里发生的事情,提醒她先不要把这个消息告诉劳拉。珀西瓦尔爵士死了,我证明劳拉身份的希望也不复存在,现在我不知下一步该怎么办。

第二天,一个写着我名字的信封被送到了旅店。里面的信既没有日期,也没有署名。但是还没看完第一句,我就知道是谁写的信了——凯瑟里克太太。

先生——我原以为你是我的敌人。现在因为你,他已经死了,我认为你是我的朋友。为感谢你的所作所为,我现在把你想知道的我的私事告诉你。

23年前,我是一个年轻漂亮的姑娘,住在韦明翰,嫁给了一位傻乎乎的丈夫。我还结识了一位绅士——我不会称呼他的名字。为什么要那样叫他?那不是他的名字。我生来就喜欢贵重的东西,这个人送给我许多贵重礼物,当然他是需要回报的——男人都是这样。这个男人要的是什么?很简单的一样东西。教堂法衣室的钥匙,当然要趁我丈夫不在的时候。我喜欢那些礼物,所以给他弄到了钥匙。我盯着他,看他在法衣室干什么,他并没发觉。当时我不知道那是多么严重的罪行。我跟他说,要是他告诉我他的私事,我不会告诉任何人他擅自增加结婚记录的事。他答应了——至于为什么,你往下看就明白了。

他说在他母亲死后,他才知道他的父母并没有结婚。他父亲承认了这件事,答应尽力为他儿子做些什么。可是他什么都没来得及做,就死去了。他的儿子来到英国继承了遗产。没人说他不能继承,实际上,真正应该继承遗产的是一个正在出海的远亲。然而,要想用那笔财产去借钱,他需要一份父母的结婚证明。这是个问题,为解决这个问题,他来到了韦明翰。

因为他父母大部分时间生活在国外,在英国没什么交际,所以谁会说(牧师已经死了)韦明翰教堂没举行过一场私下的婚礼呢?他的计划是把他出生前那一年的婚姻登记页撕下来销毁。然后,他就会告诉伦敦的律师们去取必要的证明文件,并假装不知情地把那个已经不存在的登记页上的日期告诉他们。至少谁也不会说他父母没结婚。

但是,他发现那年的登记页上靠下面有一点空白,于是改变了主意,趁机把他父母的婚姻写了进去。当然,他也颇费了些时间去模仿登记用的笔迹,还有配制合适的墨水颜色,让这条记录看起来跟其他的没有差别。

我丈夫看到我和他密谈,他们两个打了一架以后,我叫他帮我洗清名声,告诉别人我们之间什么也没发生,但是他拒绝了。他希望大家都相信并没有发生的事情,这样一来,人们就不会去想真相如何了。他还跟我说如果他的罪行败露,他以及帮过他的人都将被终生监禁。他让我害怕极了!如果我说出他的秘密,那我和他都完了。他答应每年支付我一笔钱,条件是我保持沉默,继续住在韦明翰,让他随时可以找到我,也免得我与人交朋友,然后乱讲话。虽说条件很苛刻,我还是答应了。

很多年以后,那时我女儿同我在一起,我收到他的一封信把我惹恼了。我无法控制自己,当着女儿的面说:“我把他的秘密说出去就能毁了他。”后来有一天,他来我家,管我女儿叫傻瓜,她一下子喊了起来:“赶快请求我原谅你,不然我就把你的秘密说出去,毁了你。”完全是我说过的话!他的脸一下子变白了。他向我们破口大骂。最后,你知道,他把她关进了精神病院。我试图告诉他,她什么也不知道。可是他不相信我。我女儿明白她使他害怕了,是他把她关进了精神病院,因为他认为她知道了他的秘密。这就是为什么她那么恨他。但是,她其实到死也不知道那秘密到底是什么。

最后我要说的是,如果你认为我丈夫不是我女儿的父亲,你就是污辱我。请不要多问了。为了保护我自己,信中没有提到任何名字,我也不会署名。

13
The threat

Mrs Catherick's extraordinary and shameless letter filled me with disgust. My interest in Sir Percival Glyde's crime was now at an end, but I decided to keep the letter in case it might help me find out who Anne's father really was.

Later in the morning I went to the legal enquiry into Sir Percival's death. I was only asked to say what had happened. I was not asked how I thought the keys had been taken, how the fire had been caused, or why Sir Percival had gone into the vestry. As no one could explain any of these things, the verdict at the end of the enquiry was 'death by accident'.

Afterwards, a gentleman who was also at the enquiry walked back to the hotel with me. He had heard from Sir Percival's lawyer that a distant relation abroad would now inherit Blackwater Park. This was obviously the person who should have inherited it twenty-three years before. If I made Sir Percival's crime public, it would be to no one's advantage now. If I kept the secret, the true character of the man who had cheated Laura into marrying him would remain hidden. And for her sake, I wished to keep it hidden.

I still could not leave Hampshire, as I had to report to the police station in Knowlesbury the next day. I spent another night at the hotel and in the morning went to the post office to collect the letter from Marian. As promised, we had written to each other every day, and Marian's letters had been full of cheerful news. This morning's letter was short, and terrified me.


Come back as soon as you can. We have had to move. Come to Gower's Walk, Fulham (number five). I will look out for you. Don't be alarmed about us, we are both safe and well. But come back. — Marian


What had happened? What dreadful thing had Count Fosco done while I was away? In spite of my anxiety, I had to wait. I paid my bill at the hotel and took a cab to Knowlesbury.

At the police station, as I expected, no one appeared to continue the action against me and I was allowed to go. Half an hour later I was on the train back to London.

I got to Gower's Walk in Fulham at about nine o'clock. Both Laura and Marian came to the door to let me in. Laura was much brighter and happier, full of plans for the future and for her drawing and painting. Marian's face was tired and anxious. I could see that she had spared Laura the knowledge of the terrible death in Welmingham and the true reason for moving to new lodgings. When Laura had left us and we could speak freely, I tried to give some expression to my feelings and told Marian how much I admired her for the courage and love she had shown.

She was too generous to listen to me, and turned the conversation to my worries.

'I'm so sorry for my letter — it must have alarmed you.'

'Yes, it did,' I admitted. 'Was I right in thinking that you moved because of a threat by Count Fosco?'

'Perfectly right,' she said. 'I saw him yesterday, and worse than that, Walter — I spoke to him.'

'Spoke to him? Did he come to the house?'

'He did. Yesterday, when I was passing the window, I saw him in the street. Then there was a knock on the door. I rushed out and there he was, dressed in black, with his smooth face and his deadly smile. I closed the door behind me so that Laura would not see or hear him.'

'What did he say?' I asked anxiously.

'He greeted me, then repeated the warning in his letter to me. He said he had not been able to prevent Sir Percival's violence towards you, and he had found out our address in order to protect his own interests. You were followed, Walter, on your return home after your first journey to Hampshire. He used this information only when he heard of Sir Percival's death, because he believed you would act against him next.'

'And he was right,' I said. 'What did he say about me?'

'He was very cool, very polite, and very threatening,' said Marian. 'He said, "Warn Mr Hartright! He has an intelligent and powerful man to deal with. Let him be content with what he has got. Say to him, if he attacks me, I will use all my power to destroy him. There is nothing I will not do. Dear lady, good morning." Then he just looked at me with his cold grey eyes, and walked away.

'I ran back inside, and told Laura we had to move. We needed a quieter neighbourhood with better air for the sake of her health. I said you'd wanted us to do that, and why didn't we do it now to surprise you when you got back. She liked that idea, and was quite happy to move. I found these lodgings through an old school friend. I did the right thing, didn't I, Walter?'

I answered her warmly and gratefully, as I really felt.

But the anxious look remained on her face, and I saw in her eyes her continuing fear of the Count's cleverness and energy.

'What do you think of his message, Walter? What do you plan to do next?'

'I decided weeks ago that Laura will be received in her uncle's house again,' I answered. 'And my decision remains the same. Count Fosco will answer for his crime to ME.'

Marian's eyes lit up. She said nothing, but I could see how strongly she supported this plan.

'I know the risks are great,' I said, 'but it must be done. I'm not foolish enough to try this before I'm well prepared. I can wait. Let him think his message has produced its effect. He will start to feel safe. Also, my position towards you and Laura ought to be a stronger one than it is now.'

'How can it be stronger?' she asked, surprised.

'Marian, I would like you to say to Laura, gently, that her husband is dead.'

'Oh, Walter, so soon? You have a reason for this, don't you?'

'Yes. I cannot speak to Laura yet. But one day, not too distant, I want to tell her that I love her.'

Marian looked at me for a time, then gave a sad, gentle smile. 'Yes, I understand. I think I owe it to her and to you, Walter, to tell her of her husband's death.'

The next day Laura knew that death had released her from her marriage, and her husband's name was never mentioned among us again.

*  *  *

Our life returned to its usual pattern, but I did not forget the Count. I discovered that he had rented his house in St John's Wood for another six months, so I was fairly sure he would still be in London, within my reach, when the time came to act.

We finally solved the puzzle of who Anne Catherick's father was. When I went again to see Mrs Clements and to tell her about Anne's death, she remembered where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Her employer had been a Mr Donthorne.

We wrote to Mr Donthorne, who replied with some very interesting information. Philip Fairlie, Laura's father, had been a great friend of his when they were young, and a frequent house guest. He was a handsome man and fond of female company. Mr Donthorne was fairly certain that Philip Fairlie had been staying at his house when Mrs Catherick was employed as a servant, in the year before Anne was born.

When Marian and I checked the dates; when we considered that Anne and Laura looked so alike; and when we took into account the fact that Laura looked very much like her father, we were in no doubt that here was the solution. Philip Fairlie was Anne's father, and so Anne was Laura's half-sister.

Now, at last, the woman in white, that strange sad shadow walking in the loneliness of the night, could rest in peace.

*  *  *

Four months passed. Laura grew stronger in body and in mind. She was almost her old self, and when we talked, it was as we used to talk at Limmeridge. If I touched her by accident, I felt my heart beating fast, and I saw the answering colour in her face.

In April, we went for a holiday at the seaside. While we were there I told Marian that when we returned to London, I was determined to force a confession from Count Fosco — to make him tell me the real date of Laura's journey to London.

'But if I am to challenge the Count, for Laura's safety, I think I should challenge him as her husband. Do you agree, Marian?'

'With every word,' she said. 'I parted you both once. Wait here, my brother, my best and dearest friend! Till Laura comes, and tells you what I have done now!'

She kissed my forehead and left the room. I waited by the window, staring out at the beach, seeing nothing, hardly able to breathe. The door opened, and Laura came in alone. When we parted at Limmeridge, she had come into the room slowly, in sorrow and hesitation. Now she ran to me, with the light of happiness shining in her face. She put her arms around me, and her sweet lips came to meet mine.

'My darling!' she whispered, 'May we say we love each other now? Oh, I am so happy at last!'

Ten days later we were even happier. We were married.


verdict n. a decision; a judgment 结论

spare somebody the knowledge of keeping somebody from knowing 不让某人知道……

deadly adj. horrible 可怕的

answer for be responsible 受到惩罚

fairly adv. to a noticeable degree 相当地

13.威胁

凯瑟里克太太奇怪而又不知羞耻的来信使我对她充满了鄙夷。现在,我对珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行已经没有兴趣了,但我还是决定留着这封信,也许它会帮我找出安妮的父亲究竟是谁。

上午晚些时候,我去参加珀西瓦尔爵士死亡的法律调查。他们只让我说说发生了什么,没有问我如何看待钥匙为什么会被拿走,火灾是怎么发生的,或者为什么珀西瓦尔爵士会进到法衣室去。没有人能够解释这些问题,所以调查的最终结论是“意外死亡”。

之后,一位也参加了调查的男子和我一起走回旅店。他从珀西瓦尔爵士的律师那里得知,一个国外的远亲现在要来继承布莱克沃特庄园。很明显,这就是23年前应该继承庄园的那个人。假如我把珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行公之于众,现在对谁都没有好处。假如我不把秘密说出去,这个欺骗劳拉与之结婚的人的真正人品就不会有人知道。但为了劳拉,我愿意保守这个秘密。

我还不能离开汉普郡,因为转天还要去诺雷斯伯里警察局。我在旅店又住了一晚。第二天一早,我去邮局取玛丽安的来信。我们按约定每天通信。玛丽安的来信一直都是好消息。今天早上的来信很短,但却令我害怕。


请尽快回来。我们不得不搬了家。到富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街(5号)来找我们。我也会留意等你。不必为我们担心,我们很安全。一定快回来。玛丽安


出了什么事?我不在的时候,福斯科伯爵又做了什么坏事?尽管非常担心,我还是得等。我付清了旅店的费用,叫了辆马车直奔诺雷斯伯里。

在警察局,不出我所料,没人来继续同我纠缠,我可以走了。半个小时后,我登上了返回伦敦的火车。

大约9点钟,我赶到了富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街。劳拉和玛丽安都到门口迎接我。劳拉的脸色比以前好多了,人也高兴多了,对将来和她的绘画有很多想法。玛丽安的脸上带着倦容和忧虑。看得出她没有把珀西瓦尔死在韦明翰的可怕消息和搬到新住处的真实原因告诉劳拉。劳拉走开以后,我们可以随便谈话了。我想告诉她我非常敬佩她的勇气和她对劳拉表现出的爱。

这位慷慨的姑娘没等我说完就把话题转到我的担忧上来了。

alt

“给你写那样的信,真是对不起——你一定很为我们担心吧。”

“是的,我的确很担心,”我说,“我猜你们搬家是由于福斯科伯爵的威胁,对吗?”

“一点儿不错,”她回答,“我昨天看见他了,更糟糕的是,沃尔特——我跟他说话了。”

“跟他说话了?他去你们的住处了?”

“是的。昨天,我从窗旁走过的时候,看见他在街上。过了一会儿,有人敲门。我马上跑过去开门,就是他,穿一身黑色衣服,光滑的脸上带着吓人的微笑。我关上了身后的门,这样劳拉就看不见他,也听不见他说话了。”

“他都说了什么?”我急切地问。

“他跟我打了招呼,然后再一次重复了他在信中对我的警告。他说他没能阻止珀西瓦尔爵士针对你的恶劣行为,他找到我们的住处是要保护他自己的利益。你第一次去汉普郡回来的时候就被跟踪了,沃尔特。他在听到珀西瓦尔爵士的死讯后才决定登门,因为他认为你下一个对付的目标就是他。”

“让他说对了,”我说,“他说我什么了?”

“他非常冷静而有礼,同时又非常具有威胁性,”玛丽安接着说,“他说,‘请警告哈特里特先生!他要对付的是一个有智慧、有权势的人。叫他对已经得到的东西知足吧。告诉他,如果他跟我对着干,我将不遗余力地干掉他。我会不择手段的。亲爱的小姐,再见。’然后,他用冷酷的灰眼睛看了看我,就走了。

“我赶忙跑进屋,跟劳拉说我们得搬家。为她的健康着想,我们需要一个更安静、空气更好的地方。我说你也希望我们搬家,为什么不现在就搬,等你回来给你一个惊喜呢。她喜欢这个主意,欢天喜地地同意了。我通过一个校友找到这个住处。我做得没错吧,沃尔特?”

我说她做得非常好,这是我的心里话。

但是,她脸上依然带着忧虑,从她的眼神里看得出,她还在害怕伯爵的精明和权势。

“沃尔特,你怎么看他的那些话?下一步你准备怎么做?”

“几星期前,我就决定让劳拉重新在她叔叔家得到应有的承认,”我回答,“现在我还是这样想的。我要让福斯科伯爵为他犯下的罪行付出代价。”

玛丽安的眼睛一亮,虽然没有说话,但是看得出她非常支持这个计划。

“我清楚这样做风险很大,”我说,“但这件事一定要做。我不会愚蠢到没做好准备就动手。我可以等。让他觉得他的话起了作用,认为已经平安无事了。另外,我跟你和劳拉的关系也该比现在更明确。”

“怎么个更明确法?”她吃惊地问。

“玛丽安,我希望你能心平气和地告诉劳拉,她丈夫已经死了。”

“噢,沃尔特,这么快就告诉她?你这样做是不是有什么原因?”

“是的,我现在还不能跟劳拉谈,但总有一天,不会太久,我会告诉她我爱她。”

玛丽安看了我一会儿,然后淡淡地、略带忧伤地笑了笑,“好吧,我明白。我想这是我欠你们的,沃尔特,我会把她丈夫的死讯告诉她。”

第二天,劳拉知道她丈夫死了,她也从这段婚姻中解脱了,那以后我们谁也没再提过她丈夫的名字。

*  *  *

我们的生活恢复了往常的模式,但是我没有忘记伯爵。我了解到他在圣约翰伍德的房子又续租了6个月,因此可以肯定,到了我采取行动的时候,他还会在伦敦,我还可以找到他。

我们终于弄清了安妮·凯瑟里克的父亲是谁。我又去见了克莱门茨太太,告诉她安妮已经死了。她记起凯瑟里克太太当仆人的地方。她的雇主姓多桑。

我们给多桑先生写信,他在回信中告诉我们一些非常有趣的信息。菲利普·费尔利,就是劳拉的父亲,年轻时和他是好友,也是他家里的常客。菲利普风流潇洒,喜欢女色。多桑先生非常肯定凯瑟里克太太在他家当仆人的那段时间,也就是安妮出生的前一年,菲利普·费尔利一直住在他家。

玛丽安和我算了算时间,我们想到安妮和劳拉如此地相像,想到劳拉如此地像她父亲,我们得到了非常肯定的答案。菲利普·费尔利是安妮的父亲,安妮和劳拉是同父异母的姐妹。

现在,那位白衣女人,那位在寂静深夜出现的古怪而哀伤的女人终于可以安息了。

*  *  *

四个月过去了,劳拉的身体渐渐强壮起来,头脑也慢慢清楚了。她几乎又是原来的她了。我们交谈的时候,感觉和当初在利默里奇谈话时一样。当我无意间碰到她的时候,我感到心跳在加速,而且我注意到她也脸红了。

4月,我们到海边度假。在那里,我告诉玛丽安,等回到伦敦,我一定要迫使福斯科伯爵说实话,让他说出劳拉回伦敦的真正日期。

“但是为了劳拉的安全,我想如果我挑战伯爵的话,最好以她丈夫的身份前去,你同意吗,玛丽安?”

“完全同意,”玛丽安说,“我曾让你们两个分开,你在这儿等我一下,我的好朋友!一会儿劳拉就过来,她会告诉你我这次是怎么做的,好吗?”

她吻了吻我的额头,走了出去。我在窗旁等着,眼睛望着海滩,却什么也看不到,我紧张得几乎喘不过气来。门开了,劳拉一个人走进来。我们在利默里奇分手的时候,她是慢慢地走进房间的,神情充满了痛苦和犹豫。这会儿,她跑向我,脸上闪耀着幸福的光芒。她张开手臂紧紧地拥抱我,用甜润的双唇吻着我。

“亲爱的!”她轻声说,“现在我们能对彼此说‘我爱你’了吧?啊,我终于得到幸福了!”

十天以后,我们的幸福又向前迈进了一步,我们结婚了。

14
The confession

A fortnight later, we returned to London, and I began to prepare for my battle with the Count. It was now early May and the rental agreement for his house ended in June. In my new happiness with Laura (to whom we never mentioned the Count's name), I was sometimes tempted to change my mind and to leave things as they were. But she still had dreams, terrible dreams that made her cry out in her sleep, and I knew I had to go on.

First, I tried to find out more about the Count. Marian told me that he had not been back to Italy for many years. Had he been obliged to leave Italy for political reasons, I wondered? But Marian also said that at Blackwater Park he had received official-looking letters with Italian stamps on, which would seem to contradict this idea. Perhaps he was a spy, I thought. That might explain why he had stayed in England so long after the successful completion of his plot. Who could I ask who might know something? Another Italian, perhaps — and I suddenly thought of my old friend, Professor Pesca.

Before I did that, I decided to have a look at the Count, as up to this time I had never once set eyes on him. So one morning I went to Forest Road, St John's Wood, and waited near his house. Eventually, he came out and I followed behind him as he walked towards the centre of London. Marian had prepared me for his enormous size and fashionable clothes, but not for the horrible freshness and cheerfulness and energy of the man.

Near Oxford Street he stopped to read a sign announcing an opera, and then went into the opera ticket office, which was nearby. I went over to read the sign. The opera was being performed that evening, and it seemed likely that the Count would be in the audience.

If I invite Pesca to the opera, I thought, I can point the Count out to him and find out if he knows him. So I bought two tickets myself, sent Pesca a note, and that evening called to take him with me to the opera.

The music had already started when we went in, and all the seats were filled. However, there was room to stand at the sides. I looked around and saw the Count sitting in a seat half-way down, so I placed myself exactly on a line with him, with Pesca standing at my side. When the first part finished, the audience, including the Count, rose to look about them.

When the Count was looking in our direction, I nudged Pesca with my elbow. 'You see that tall fat man? Do you know him?'

'No,' said Pesca. 'Is he famous? Why do you point him out?'

'Because I have a reason for wanting to know more about him. He's an Italian, and his name is Count Fosco. Do you know that name? Look — stand on this step so that you can see him better.'

A slim, fair-haired man, with a scar on his left cheek, was standing near us. I saw him look at Pesca, and then follow the direction of his eyes to the Count. Pesca repeated that he did not know him, and as he spoke, the Count looked our way again.

The eyes of the two Italians met.

In that second I was suddenly convinced that, while Pesca may not have known the Count, the Count certainly knew Pesca!

Not only knew him, but — more surprising still — feared him as well. The Count's face had frozen into a dreadful stillness, the cheeks as pale as death, the cold grey eyes staring in terror.

Nearby, the man with the scar also seemed to be watching with interest the effect that Pesca had had on the Count.

'How the fat man stares!' Pesca said, looking round at me. 'But I've never seen him before in my life.'

As Pesca looked away, the Count turned, moving quickly towards the back of the theatre, where the crowd was thickest. I caught Pesca's arm and, to his great surprise, hurried him with me after the Count. The slim man with the scar had apparently also decided to leave, and was already ahead of us. By the time Pesca and I reached the entrance, neither the Count nor the slim man was in sight.

'Pesca,' I said urgently, 'I must speak to you in private. May we go to your lodgings to talk?'

'What on earth is the matter?' cried Pesca.

I hurried him on without answering. The way the Count had left the theatre, his extraordinary anxiety to avoid Pesca, made me fear that he might go even further — and out of my reach.

In Pesca's lodgings, I explained everything as fast as I could, while Pesca stared at me in great confusion and amazement.

'He knows you — he's afraid of you. He left the theatre to escape you,' I said. 'There must be a reason, Pesca! Think of your own life before you came to England. You left Italy for political reasons. I don't ask what they were. But could that man's terror be connected with your past in some way?'

To my inexpressible surprise, these harmless words seemed to terrify Pesca. His face went white and he started to tremble.

'Walter!' he whispered. 'You don't know what you ask.'

I stared at him. 'Pesca, forgive me. I didn't mean to cause you pain. I spoke only because of what my wife has suffered from that man's cruel actions. You must forgive me.'

I rose to go. He stopped me before I reached the door.

'Wait,' he said. 'You saved my life once. You have a right to hear from me what you want to know, even though I could be killed for it. I only ask that, if you find the connection between my past and that man Fosco, you do not tell me.'

Then, his face still pale as the memories of the past crowded in on him, he told me the story.

'In my youth I belonged — and still belong — to a secret political society. Let's call it the Brotherhood, I can't tell you its real name. But I took too many risks and did something which put other members in danger. So I was ordered to go and live in England and to wait. I went — I have waited — I still wait. I could be called away tomorrow, or in ten years. I cannot know.

'The purpose of the Brotherhood is to fight for the rights of the people. There is a president in Italy, and presidents abroad. Each of these has his secretary. The presidents and secretaries know the members, but members don't know each other, until it's considered necessary. Every member of the Brotherhood is identified by a small round mark burnt into the skin, high up on the inside of their left arm.'

He rolled up his sleeve and showed me his own mark.

'If anyone betrays the Brotherhood,' he went on, 'he is a dead man. Another member, a distant stranger or a neighbour, will be ordered to kill him. No one can leave the society — ever.'

Pesca paused, then continued. 'In Italy I was chosen to be secretary. The members at that time were brought face to face with the president, and were also brought face to face with me. You understand me — I see it in your face. But tell me nothing, I beg you! Let me stay free of a responsibility which horrifies me.

'I do not know the man at the opera,' he said finally. 'If he knows me, he is so changed, or disguised, that I do not know him. Leave me now, Walter. I have said enough.'

'I thank you with all my heart, Pesca,' I said. 'You will never, never regret the trust you have placed in me.'

Walking home, my heart beat with excitement. Here at last, surely, was my weapon against the Count! I was convinced he was a member of the Brotherhood, had betrayed it, and believed that he had been recognized tonight. His life was now in danger. What else could explain his extreme terror at seeing Pesca?

And what would he do next? Leave London as fast as he could. If I went to his house and tried to stop him, he would not hesitate to kill me. To protect myself, I had to make his safety depend on mine. I hurried home and wrote this letter to Pesca:

The man at the opera, Fosco, is a member of your society and has betrayed it. Go instantly to his house at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. I am already dead. Use your power against him without delay.

I signed and dated the letter, and wrote on the envelope: Keep until nine o'clock tomorrow morning. If you do not hear from me before then, open the envelope and read the contents.

I then found a messenger, told him to deliver the letter and bring back a note from Professor Pesca to say he had received it. Twenty minutes later I had the note, and as I was leaving, Marian came to the door, looking anxious.

'It's tonight, isn't it?' she said. 'You're going to the Count.'

'Yes, it's the last chance, and the best.'

'Oh, Walter, not alone! Let me go with you. Don't go alone?'

'No, Marian. You must stay here and guard Laura for me. Then I will be easy in my mind when I face the Count.'

*  *  *

As I approached the Count's house, I passed the man with the scar on his cheek, whom I had noticed earlier at the opera. What was he doing here, I wondered?

I sent in my card, and I still do not know why the Count let me into his house at half past eleven at night. Was he just curious to see me? He would not have known that I was at the opera with Pesca, and I suppose he thought he had nothing to fear from me.

He was still in his evening suit, and there was a travelling case on the floor, with books, papers, and clothes all around him. My guess had been right.

'You come here on business, Mr Hartright?' he said, looking at me with curiosity. 'I cannot think what that might be.'

'You are obviously preparing for a journey,' I said. 'That is my business. I know why you are leaving London.'

'So you know why I am leaving London?' He went over to a table and opened a drawer.' Tell me the reason, if you please.'

'I can show you the reason,' I said. 'Roll up the sleeve on your left arm, and you will see it.'

His cold grey eyes stared into mine. There was a long heartbeat of silence. I was as certain as if I had seen it that he had a gun hidden in the drawer, and that my life hung by a thread.

'Wait a little,' I said. 'Before you act, I advise you to read this note.' Moving slowly and carefully, I passed him Pesca's note.

He read the lines aloud.

Your letter is received. If I don't hear from you before nine o'clock, I will open the envelope when the clock strikes.

Another man might have needed an explanation, but not the Count. His expression changed, and he closed the drawer.

'You are cleverer than I thought,' he said. 'I cannot leave before nine as I have to wait for a passport to be delivered. Your information may be true or may be false — where did you get it?'

'I refuse to tell you.'

'And that unsigned note you showed me — who wrote it?'

'A man whom you have every reason to fear.'

A pause. 'What do you want of me, Mr Hartright? Is it to do with a lady, perhaps?'

'Yes, my wife,' I answered.

He looked at me in real amazement, and I saw at once that he no longer considered me a dangerous man. He folded his arms and listened to me with a cold smile.

'You are guilty of a wicked crime,' I went on. 'But you can keep the money. All I want is a signed confession of the plot and a proof of the date my wife travelled to London.'

'Good!' he said. 'Those are your conditions; here are mine. One, Madame Fosco and I leave the house when we please and you do not try to stop us. Two, you wait here until my agent comes early tomorrow morning and you give him an order to get back your letter unopened. You then allow us half an hour to leave the house. Three, you agree to fight me at a place to be arranged later abroad. Do you accept my conditions — yes or no?'

His quick decision, his cleverness and force of character amazed me. For a second I hesitated. Should I let him escape? Yes, the evidence I needed to prove Laura's identity was far more important than revenge.

'I accept your conditions,' I said.

At once, he called for coffee and sat down to write. He wrote quickly for quite some time. Finally, he jumped up, declared that he had finished and read out his statement, which I accepted as satisfactory. He gave me the address of the company from whom he had hired the cab to collect Laura, and also gave me a letter signed by Sir Percival. It was dated 25th July, and announced the journey of Lady Glyde to London on 26th July. So there it was. On 25th July, the date of her death certificate in London, Laura was alive in Hampshire, about to make a journey the next day.

The Count then called in Madame Fosco to watch me while he slept. Early in the morning his agent arrived and I wrote a note for Pesca. An hour later, the agent returned with my unopened letter and the Count's passport.

'Remember the third condition!' the Count said as he left. 'You will hear from me, Mr Hartright.' Then he and the Countess got into the agent's cab with their bags and drove away, leaving the agent with me to make sure I did not follow.

As I watched them leave, another cab went by and I saw inside the man with the scar on his cheek. What was his business with the Count, I wondered? I had seen him too often now for it to be chance. Perhaps I had fought my own battle with the Count just in time. You cannot get a signed confession out of a dead man.

While I waited for the agreed half hour, I read the document that the Count had written for me.


Statement by Isidor Ottavio Baldassare Fosco

In the summer of 1850 I arrived in England on delicate political business and stayed with my friend, Sir Percival Glyde. We both urgently needed large amounts of money. The only person who had such money was his wife, from whom not a penny could be obtained until her death. To make matters worse, my friend had other private problems. A woman called Anne Catherick was hidden in the neighbourhood, was communicating with Lady Glyde, and knew a secret which could ruin him. And if he was ruined, what would happen to our financial interests?

The first thing to do was to find Anne Catherick, who, I was told, looked very much like Lady Glyde and who had escaped from a mad-house. I had the fantastic idea of changing the names, places and lives of Lady Glyde and Anne Catherick, the one with the other. The wonderful results of this change would be the gain of £ 30,000 and the keeping of Sir Percival's secret.

I found Anne Catherick and persuaded her and her friend to return to London. I rented a house in St John's Wood for myself, and obtained from Mr Fairlie in Limmeridge an invitation for Lady Glyde to visit. For my plan to work, it was necessary for Lady Glyde to leave Blackwater Park alone and stay a night at my house on her way to Limmeridge. This plan was made easier by Miss Halcombe's illness. I returned to Blackwater Park, and when Miss Halcombe was out of danger, I got rid of the doctor and instructed Sir Percival to get rid of the servants.

Next, we sent Mrs Michelson away for a few days, and one night Madame Fosco, Mrs Rubelle and I moved the sleeping Miss Halcombe to an unused part of the house. I left for London in the morning with my wife, leaving Sir Percival to persuade Lady Glyde that her sister had gone to Limmeridge and that she should follow her, breaking her journey in London at my house.

On 24th July, with my wife's help, I got hold of Anne Catherick, and took her to my house as Lady Glyde. However, when she saw no one she recognized, she screamed with fear and, to my horror, the shock to her weak heart caused her to collapse. By the end of the following day, she was dead. Dead on the 25th, and Lady Glyde was not due to arrive in London till the 26th!

It was too late to change the plan. I remained calm and carried on. On the 26th, leaving the false Lady Glyde dead in my house, I collected the true Lady Glyde from the railway station and took her to Mrs Rubelle's house. The two medical men I had hired (shall we say) were easily persuaded to certify the confused and frightened Lady Glyde as mentally ill. Then I gave her a drug and had Mrs Rubelle dress her in Anne Catherick's clothes. The next day, the 27th, she was delivered to the asylum, where she was received with great surprise, but without suspicion. The false Lady Glyde was buried at Limmeridge. I attended the funeral with suitable expressions of deep sympathy.

One final question remains. If Anne Catherick had not died when she did, what would I have done? I would, of course, have given her a happy release from the prison of life.


tempt v. to make someone want to have or do something 引诱

contradict v. be in conflict with 与……相矛盾

perform v. act 表演

nudge v. push gently 轻轻地碰

inexpressible adj. that can not be expressed 难以说清的

disguise v. alter the appearance so as to conceal the identity 伪装

curious adj. eager to learn; inquisitive 好奇的

aloud adv. audibly 出声地

agent n. a person who acts for another in business, politics etc. 代理人

delicate adj. tricky 微妙的

fantastic adj. wonderful 绝好的

14.认罪

两个星期之后,我们回到了伦敦。我开始准备与伯爵的较量。现在是5月初,他租房的期限到6月。享受着与劳拉新婚的幸福(我们从未跟她提起过伯爵),有时我忍不住想改变主意,让一切都过去。但是劳拉仍会做梦,可怕的噩梦,她常常在梦里惊叫起来,因此我明白必须继续原来的计划。

首先,我想尽量多了解一些伯爵的事。玛丽安告诉我,他已经很多年没有回意大利了。我想,他是不是由于政治原因被迫离开意大利的呢?但是玛丽安又说,在布莱克沃特庄园他好像收到过贴着意大利邮票的官方来信,这两者是互相矛盾的。也许他是间谍。这样可以解释为什么他在自己的阴谋得逞后,还在英国逗留那么久。有谁能告诉我答案呢?也许该再找个意大利人问问——猛然间我想到了老朋友,佩斯卡教授。

去见佩斯卡教授前,我决定先去看一下伯爵,因为到目前为止,我还从来没有见过他。于是一天早上,我去了圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特大街,在他的住处附近等他出现。最后,他终于出来了,朝伦敦市中心走去。我在后面跟着他。玛丽安跟我提过他身躯肥胖,衣着入时,但我没想到这个人那么精力旺盛,神采飞扬。

在牛津街附近,他停住脚步看一个歌剧的海报,然后走进了不远处的售票处。我过去看了一下海报,发现演出就在晚上,伯爵很可能会出现在观众当中。

我想假如邀请佩斯卡来看歌剧,就可以把伯爵指给他,看他是否认识。于是,我自己买了两张票,给佩斯卡写了封短信,晚上找他一起去看歌剧。

我们进入剧院的时候,音乐已经响起来了,剧场里座无虚席。不过剧场两边还有站的地方。我环顾四周,看到伯爵坐在前面几排的座位上,于是我也站到了那一排,佩斯卡站在我旁边。第一部分演出结束了,观众们,包括伯爵在内,都起身向周围张望。

在伯爵朝我们这个方向看的时候,我用臂肘碰了一下佩斯卡,“看见那个高大的胖子了吗?你认识他吗?”

“不认识,”佩斯卡回答,“他很有名吗?你为什么让我看他?”

“因为我需要更多地了解关于他的情况。他是意大利人,叫福斯科伯爵。你听说过这个名字吗?来,站这个台阶上,你会看得更清楚些。”

一个瘦瘦的金发男子站在我们的旁边,他的左脸上有一道疤。我注意到他看了看佩斯卡,又顺着佩斯卡的视线看了看伯爵。佩斯卡再一次对我说,他不认识那个人,就在他说话的时候,伯爵朝我们这边看过来。

这两个意大利人的目光相遇了。

那一瞬间,我敢肯定地说,佩斯卡可能不认识伯爵,但伯爵一定认识佩斯卡!

不仅是认识,更令人惊奇的是伯爵害怕佩斯卡。伯爵脸上的表情凝固了,像死人一样毫无血色,冷酷的灰眼睛恐惧地盯着这边。

脸上有疤的人似乎饶有兴趣地在一旁看着佩斯卡对伯爵的影响。

“那个胖子怎么那样看着我!”佩斯卡说,转过头看着我,“我从未见过他呀。”

佩斯卡扭头的时候,伯爵转身快步向剧场后边走去,那里人最多。我一把抓住佩斯卡的胳膊,不顾他的惊讶,拉着他紧追伯爵。那个脸上有疤的瘦子显然也准备离开剧场,并且已经走到了我们的前面。等我和佩斯卡赶到入口,伯爵和那个瘦子都已经不见了。

“佩斯卡,”我赶忙说,“我必须和你单独谈谈,我们到你的住处去谈可以吗?”

“这到底是怎么回事?”佩斯卡大声说。

我没回答,只是催着他赶紧走。伯爵离开剧场的样子,还有他迫不及待地要躲避佩斯卡,使我担心他可能会逃得更远——我可能再也找不到他了。

到了佩斯卡的住处,我以最快的速度向他讲述了事情的经过,他充满迷惑和惊讶地望着我。

他认识你——他很怕你。他离开剧场就是要逃避你,”我说,“这其中一定有原因,佩斯卡!回忆一下你来英国以前的经历。你是由于政治原因离开意大利的,我不是问你那些政治原因,不过那个人如此惊慌会不会同你的过去有什么关联?”

令我非常吃惊的是,这些本来无关紧要的话好像令佩斯卡非常惊恐。他的脸色变得煞白,身体开始颤抖。

“沃尔特!”他低声说,“你不知道你问了什么。”

我两眼紧盯着他,“佩斯卡,请原谅。我不是有意要给你带来痛苦,我说那些话只是因为那个人给我妻子带来了巨大的伤害。请你原谅我。”

我起身要离开,还没走到门口,他叫住了我。

“等一下,”他说,“你救过我的命,你有权从我这里知道你想要知道的东西,即使这会要了我的命。我唯一的请求是,即使你发现了我的过去同那个福斯科的关系,你也不要告诉我。”

接着,他开始讲他的经历,过去的记忆卷土重来,令他脸色煞白。

“我年轻的时候参加了一个秘密政治社团,现在还是它的成员。我们姑且叫它兄弟社团,我不能告诉你真实的名称。我当时完成了很多出生入死的任务,也做了一些给其他成员带来危险的事,所以社团命令我到英国待命。我服从命令来了英国——一直在等——现在还在等。我可能明天就被召回,也许是10年以后。我不知道。

“兄弟社团的宗旨是为人民争取权利。它在意大利有一个主席,国外有很多主席。每个主席都有秘书。主席和秘书认识所有的成员,但除非在必要的情况下,成员们彼此都不认识。每个兄弟社团成员的左臂内侧靠上的地方都有一个很小的圆形烙印,这是他们的记号。”

他卷起衣袖,给我看他自己的烙印。

“任何人背叛了兄弟社团,”他接着说,“他肯定会被处死。其他成员,也许是一个他不认识的陌生人,也许是他的邻居,会奉命杀死他。任何人不能退出社团——永远都不可以。”

佩斯卡停了一会儿又说:“在意大利,我被选为秘书,所有的成员那时都被带来见主席,当然也就见到了。你明白了我的意思——我从你的表情看出来了。但是,什么也别跟我说,求你了!我不想做我必须做的事,我感到害怕。

“我不认识剧场的那个人,”他最后说,“如果他认识,那他一定跟以前变化很大,或者伪装了自己,让我认不出来了。你现在走吧,沃尔特。我说得够多了。”

“我衷心地感谢你,佩斯卡,”我说,“你永远不会为信任我而后悔的。”

走在回家的路上,我的心情激动不已。我终于找到了对付伯爵的武器。我敢肯定他原来是一个兄弟社团成员,后来背叛了社团,他认为自己今晚被认出来了。现在他的生命很危险。不然他见到佩斯卡为什么那样害怕呢?

那他接着会做什么呢?尽快离开伦敦。如果我去他的住处拦住他,他肯定会毫不犹豫地杀了我。为保护我自己,我必须让他的生命安全地攥在我的手里。我赶忙回到家,给佩斯卡写了一封信:

剧场的那个人,福斯科,是你们社团的一个成员,他背叛了社团。赶快到他的住处圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特街5号。我已经死了。请用你的力量立即干掉他。

我签了名,写上日期,又在信封上写道:等到明天上午9点。如果到那时还没有我的消息,再打开信封读里面的内容。

然后,我找了一个信使,叫他把信送走并带回佩斯卡的回复,说他已经收到信了。20分钟后,我拿到了回复的纸条。我刚要离开,玛丽安出现在门口,脸上露出担忧的表情。

“就是今天晚上吗?”她说,“你要去找伯爵。”

“对,这是最后的机会,也是最好的机会。”

“噢,沃尔特,别一个人去!让我跟你去吧,不要一个人去!”

“不行,玛丽安。你必须留在这里替我保护劳拉。那样,我面对伯爵的时候才会放心。”

*  *  *

快到伯爵住处的时候,我碰见了脸上有疤的那个人,早些时候在剧场就见过他。他在这儿做什么,我心里很纳闷。

我把名片递进去,我到现在也不明白,为什么夜里11点半伯爵还让我进去。他对我好奇,想见我?他并不知道我和佩斯卡同在剧场,我猜想他觉得我没有什么好怕的。

他还穿着晚礼服,地上有一个旅行箱,他周围满是书籍、文件和衣服。我猜的没错。

“你来这里有事,哈特里特先生?”他一边说,一边用好奇的眼光打量我,“我想不出会是什么事。”

“你像是在准备出门旅行,”我说,“这就是我来的原因。我知道你为什么要离开伦敦。”

“你知道我为什么要离开伦敦?”他走到一张桌旁,打开抽屉,“如果你愿意,说说为什么。”

“我可以让你看看为什么,”我说,“把你左边的衣袖卷起,就能看到。”

他那冷酷的灰眼睛一动不动地盯着我。接下来是一阵令人紧张的寂静。我就像亲眼所见一样清楚,那抽屉里藏着枪,我现在命悬一线。

“等一下,”我说,“你动手之前,我建议你看看这个纸条。”我慢慢地、小心翼翼地把佩斯卡的纸条递给他。

他出声读着纸条。

你的信收到了。如果9点以前没有你的消息,9点整,钟一响我就打开信封。

假如换作另外一个人,可能需要一些解释,但伯爵不需要。他脸上的表情变了,他关上了抽屉。

“你比我想的要聪明,”他说,“我9点以前走不了,我得等人给我送护照来。你得到的信息可能是真的,也可能是假的。你是从哪儿知道的?”

“我不会告诉你的。”

“你给我的没有签名的纸条是谁写的?”

“一个你非常害怕的人。”

他停了一会儿,“你要我做什么,哈特里特先生?是不是跟一位女士有关?”

“是的,是我妻子。”我回答。

他非常吃惊地看着我。看得出他不再认为我会给他带来危险了。他双手交叉抱在胸前,面带冷笑听我继续说下去。

“你犯下了严重的罪行,”我接着说道,“但是,你可以留着你得到的钱。我只要一个由你签名的认罪书,还有我妻子回伦敦的日期证明。”

“好!”他说,“这是你的条件,我的条件是:第一,福斯科夫人和我在我们愿意的时候离开这里,你不要阻止我们。第二,你呆在这里,明天一早我的代理人过来,你让他取回那封还没有打开的信。然后,你要给我们半个小时的时间离开这里。第三,你答应跟我在国外找一个地方决斗。你接受我的条件吗——是还是否?”

他的迅速决断,他的精干和意志力令我震惊。我犹豫了一会儿。我应该让他逃走吗?是的,证明劳拉身份的证据比复仇重要得多。

“我接受你的条件。”我说。

他随即叫人拿来咖啡,坐下开始写。他落笔如飞,写了很长时间。最后,他站起来,说他已经写完了并念给我听。我觉得还满意。他给了我他租车接劳拉的那家公司的地址,同时给我的还有珀西瓦尔爵士签名的一封信。信的日期是7月25日,里面说格莱德夫人将于7月26日启程去伦敦。这就是证据。7月25日,即死亡证明上宣告劳拉死于伦敦的日子,劳拉还在汉普郡活着准备第二天的旅行。

然后,伯爵把福斯科夫人叫进来,让她看着我,他自己去睡觉。第二天一早,他的代理人来了,我给佩斯卡写了封短信。一个小时后,代理人拿着我那封没打开的信和护照回来了。

“别忘了第三个条件!”伯爵临走时说,“你会收到我的信的,哈特里特先生。”说完,他和伯爵夫人坐上代理人的马车离开了这里,代理人留下来,确保我不跟踪他们。

我看着他们离开,这时另一辆马车驶过去,车里坐着那个脸上有疤的人。他和伯爵有什么瓜葛?我看到他好几次了,不应该是巧合。或许我跟伯爵的较量正是时候。他要是死了,我就没法得到他签名的笔录了。

在约定的半小时里,我读了伯爵写给我的认罪书。

伊西多·奥塔维奥·鲍尔德塞尔·福斯科的证词

1850年夏天,由于微妙的政治原因我来到英国,同我的朋友珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士住在一起。我们两人都急需一大笔钱。唯一拥有这笔钱的人是他妻子,但是他妻子不死,我们一分钱也得不到。更糟糕的是,我的朋友又遇到了别的麻烦事。一个叫安妮·凯瑟里克的女人藏在我们附近,她在同格莱德夫人接触,并且掌握着一个可以毁掉珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。如果他完蛋了,那我们的经济利益怎么办呢?

我们要做的第一件事就是找到安妮·凯瑟里克。我了解到她的长相和格莱德夫人极为相似。她是从精神病院逃出来的。我突发奇想,把格莱德夫人同安妮·凯瑟里克的名字、住处、经历互换一下。互换的结果既可以让我们得到3万英镑,又能够保住珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。

我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,说服她和她的朋友回伦敦去。我自己在圣约翰伍德租了房子,同时从利默里奇的费尔利先生那里得到了邀请格莱德夫人去看望他的信。要实现我的计划,必须让格莱德夫人一个人离开布莱克沃特庄园,在去往利默里奇的途中在我家里住一夜。哈尔库姆小姐的病让我的计划更容易进行了。我回到布莱克沃特庄园,等哈尔库姆小姐一脱离危险,就辞退了医生,并且让珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了所有仆人。

下一步,我们让米切尔森太太离开庄园几天。一天晚上,福斯科夫人、鲁贝尔太太和我把昏睡中的哈尔库姆小姐抬到了一个没有人住的房间里。转天一早,我和夫人赶往伦敦,留下珀西瓦尔爵士劝说格莱德夫人,让她相信她姐姐已经去了利默里奇,她也应该去找她,途中在伦敦我的家休息。

7月24日,在我妻子的协助下,我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,把她带到我的住处,假装就是格莱德夫人。然而,当安妮·凯瑟里克看到没有一个她认识的人时,吓得叫了起来。令我非常害怕的是,惊吓使她脆弱的心脏无法承受,转天她就死了。她是25日死的,可是格莱德夫人26日才能到伦敦!

改变计划已经来不及了。我尽量保持头脑冷静,继续着原来的计划。26日,我把已死的假格莱德夫人留在家里,到车站去接真正的格莱德夫人,带她到鲁贝尔太太家。我雇用的(可以这样说)两个医生很容易就被说服了,他们证明迷惑而惊恐的格莱德夫人患了精神病。而后,我给她吃了镇静药,让鲁贝尔太太给她穿上安妮·凯瑟里克的衣服。第二天,也就是27日,格莱德夫人被送进精神病院,那里的人非常吃惊,但没有人怀疑。假格莱德夫人被埋葬在利默里奇。我出席了葬礼,表现出应有的悲伤与同情。

还有最后一个问题,如果安妮·凯瑟里克没有死的话,我会怎么办呢?我当然很高兴帮她摆脱牢笼般的人生。

15
The proof

When the half hour had passed, I returned home. After a brief explanation to Laura and Marian, I hurried back to St John's Wood to find the cab-driver whom the Count had hired to collect Laura at the station. He wrote me a statement, which he and a witness signed, saying that on 26th July 1850 he had driven a Count Fosco to the railway station where they had collected a Lady Glyde. He remembered Lady Glyde's name, he said, from the labels on her luggage.

Then I went to Mr Kyrle's office and presented him with the proof of Laura's identity — the letter from Sir Percival, the statement by the cab-driver, the confession by the Count, and the death certificate. Amazed, he congratulated me, and agreed to accompany us to Limmeridge the next day, where I intended to have Laura publicly received and recognized.

Early the next morning Laura, Marian, Mr Kyrle and I took the train to Limmeridge. Laura and Marian stayed at first in a hotel while Mr Kyrle and I went to the house to deal with Mr Fairlie. He complained like a child, saying how was he to know his niece was alive when he was told she was dead? Between us, the lawyer and I made him sign letters calling all those who had attended the false funeral to come to the house the next day.

As I led Laura into her childhood home the following morning, there was a murmur of surprise and interest from the waiting crowd of villagers and neighbours. The business was soon done. I read out the story of the plot against Laura, and Mr Kyrle announced that everything I had said was proved by the strongest evidence. I put my arm around Laura, raised her up, and called to the crowd:

'Are you all agreed that this is the Laura Fairlie you knew?'

'There she is, alive and well — God bless her!' It was an old man at the back of the room who began it, and in an instant everybody was shouting and cheering together.

Later, in the churchyard, we watched a stone worker remove Laura's name from the gravestone. In its place he put this:

ANNE CATHERICK

25TH JULY 1850

We returned to London the following day, happy in the thought that the long struggle was now over.

*  *  *

Several days later Pesca came to see me, and asked for a quiet word in my ear. He had just returned from Paris.

'I have news for you, my friend,' he said. 'You need not worry any more about the man at the opera. His body was found in the river Seine yesterday and now lies in the morgue in Paris. He was killed by knife wounds to the heart.'

'Count Fosco is dead?' I said, amazed. 'Are you sure?'

'I saw the body with my own eyes. He was wearing a French workman's clothes, and had a different name, of course, but he was the fat man we saw at the opera that night. No question.'

'But how do you know this?' I asked.

Pesca hesitated. 'A man brought me some information,' he said. 'I had to see the body, and send a report about it.'

'A man,' I said. 'What kind of man?'

'A stranger,' said Pesca. 'I didn't know him. A man with a scar on his left cheek.' He saw the understanding in my face, and held up his hand. 'No more questions, my friend. Please!'

We never spoke about it again, but I think Pesca was telling me that the Brotherhood had taken their revenge. And so Count Fosco, that extraordinary, evil man, passed from this world.

*  *  *

The following year our first child was born — a son. Six months later my newspaper sent me to Ireland and, when I returned, I found a note from my wife saying she and Marian and little Walter had gone to Limmeridge House. She begged me to follow as soon as possible. Very surprised, I caught the next train. When I got there, Marian and Laura told me Mr Fairlie was dead and that Mr Kyrle had advised them to go to Limmeridge House.

Laura came close to me and I half realized some great change was happening in our lives.

'Do you know who this is, Walter?' Marian asked, holding up my little son, with tears of happiness in her eyes. 'This is the boy who will one day inherit Limmeridge House.'

So she spoke. In writing those last words, I have written everything. Marian was the good friend of our lives — let Marian end our story.


label n. a small piece of paper, card etc. attached to an object and giving information about it 标签

congratulate v. express pleasure at the happiness or good fortune or excellence of a person 祝贺

morgue n. a room or building in which dead bodies may be kept until burial or cremation 停尸间

15.证据

alt

那半个小时过去了,我回到家里。简单地向劳拉和玛丽安说明了情况后,我立即赶回圣约翰伍德去找那个伯爵雇来到车站接劳拉的车夫。那人给我写了份证词,他和另一个证人都签了字。证词说,1850年7月26日他驾车送福斯科伯爵去车站,接了一位格莱德夫人。他说还记得格莱德夫人的名字,是在行李标签上看到的。

然后,我去了克尔先生的办公室,给他看了证明劳拉身份的证据——珀西瓦尔爵士的信、马车夫的证词、伯爵的认罪书和那份死亡证明。克尔先生很吃惊,接着向我表示祝贺并且答应第二天陪我们到利默里奇,我准备让人们公开地接受和认可劳拉。

转天的一大早,劳拉、玛丽安、克尔先生和我乘火车前往利默里奇。劳拉和玛丽安先在一家旅店里休息,克尔先生和我去庄园与费尔利先生交涉。费尔利先生像孩子一样抱怨说,有人告诉他他侄女死了,他怎么会知道他侄女还活着?在只有我们三个人的情况下,克尔先生和我让他在事先准备好的信上签字,邀请所有参加那场假葬礼的人第二天到费尔利家来。

第二天早晨,当我带着劳拉走进她儿时的家时,等候在那里的村民和邻居们发出惊奇的低语声。很快我们进入了正题。我大声宣读了针对劳拉的罪恶阴谋的全过程,克尔先生当众宣布我说的每一件事都证据确凿。我搂住劳拉,扶她起来,高声对众人说:

“你们说这是不是你们认识的劳拉·费尔利?”

“是她,她还好好地活着——上帝保佑她!”一位站在屋子后面的老人首先说,其他人也都立刻欢呼起来。

后来,在教堂墓地里,我们亲眼看着一位石匠把劳拉的名字从墓碑上凿去,在原来的地方刻上:

安妮·凯瑟里克

卒于1850年7月25日

转天,我们返回了伦敦,想到漫长的斗争终于结束了,我们都非常高兴。

*  *  *

过了几天,佩斯卡来看我,要跟我单独聊聊。他刚从巴黎回来。

“我有重要的消息要告诉你,我的朋友,”他说,“你不用再担心剧场里的那个人了,昨天在塞纳河发现了他的尸体,现在他的尸体停放在巴黎的停尸间。他是被人用刀子刺进心脏而死的。”

“福斯科伯爵已经死了?”我吃惊地问,“你能肯定吗?”

“我亲眼看了他的尸体,他穿着法国工人的制服,当然也换了名字,但他就是那天晚上我们在剧场见到的那个胖子。一点儿没错。”

“可你是怎么知道这个消息的呢?”我问。

佩斯卡犹豫了一下。“有人告诉我的,”他说,“我必须亲眼看到他的尸体,然后发一个报告。”

“有人,”我说,“是什么人?”

“一个陌生人,”佩斯卡回答,“我不认识那个人,他的左脸上有一道疤。”看到我脸上了然的表情,他抬了抬手,“请不要多问了,我的朋友!”

我们再没有提起这件事,不过我想佩斯卡是要告诉我兄弟社团已经采取了复仇行动。就这样,福斯科伯爵,那个能力不俗的恶徒从这个世界上消失了。

*  *  *

第二年,我们的第一个孩子出世了——是个儿子。6个月以后,我供职的那家报社派我去了爱尔兰。我回来的时候,看到妻子留给我的一封短信,信上说她和玛丽安还有小沃尔特去了利默里奇庄园。她让我尽快去找他们。我感到很惊讶,赶下一班火车去了那里。我到那儿之后,玛丽安和劳拉告诉我费尔利先生去世了,是克尔先生建议她们到利默里奇庄园去的。

劳拉走到我身边,我朦胧地意识到我们的生活将要发生什么大事。

“你知道这是谁吗,沃尔特?”玛丽安一边举起我的小儿子,一边问我,眼睛里充满了喜悦的泪水,“这个孩子将来有一天会继承利默里奇庄园。”

她就是这样说的。写完了最后几句话,我的讲述就到这里了。玛丽安是我们的终生好友——就让她结束我们的故事吧。

营救

PART THREE
THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
第三部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

9
The gravestone

On 13th October 1850 I left the wild forests of Central America and returned to England. I had escaped death by disease, death by war, and death by drowning, and hoped that these experiences had strengthened me to face my future — a future without Laura Fairlie. I still remembered her as Laura Fairlie, and could not think of her by her husband's name.

The first thing I did was to visit my mother and sister in their Hampstead cottage. The joy of our meeting, however, soon turned to sadness. I have no secrets from my mother, and when I saw the loving pity in her eyes, I feared the worst.

The news was soon told. I tried hard not to let my sorrow spoil the happiness of my return for my mother and sister, but by the third day I knew I had to go away alone for a while.

'Let me go up to Limmeridge,' I begged my mother. 'I can bear it better when I have seen her grave.'

It was a warm autumn afternoon when I arrived at the station and walked down the familiar road, seeing in the distance the high white walls of Limmeridge House. In the churchyard I found the grave and knelt down beside the gravestone, closing my eyes.

Oh my love! My Love! My dear, dear Love!

Hours passed, and the evening sunlight threw long shadows among the sleeping places of the dead. I had lost all sense of time, kneeling there. Then, in the silence, I heard the soft sound of footsteps on the grass.

I looked up.

Beyond me, standing together by the churchyard wall, were two women, their veils down, hiding their faces. They were looking towards the grave, looking towards me.

Two.

They came closer, and stopped. One of them lifted her veil, and in the still evening light I saw the face of Marian Halcombe. A changed face. Thin and pale, full of pain and fear.

The woman with the veiled face came towards me slowly. Marian Halcombe sank to her knees, murmuring, 'Oh God, help him! Please, please help him, God!'

The veiled woman came on, slowly and silently. I looked at her — at her, and at no one else, from that moment. She had possession of me, body and soul. She stopped by the side of the gravestone, and we stood face to face with the grave between us.

'Oh God, help him, help him!'

The woman lifted her veil.

In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde...

Laura, Lady Glyde, was standing by the gravestone, looking at me over her grave.

*  *  *

A life suddenly changed. A new future before me, like the sunlit view from a mountain top. I leave my story in the quiet shadow of Limmeridge church, and begin again, one week later, in the noise and rush of a London street.

I have rented rooms under a different name. Marian and Laura, using the same name, are said to be my sisters. I earn our bread by doing drawings for cheap magazines. We employ no servant; my elder sister, Marian, does the housework with her own hands. Marian and I are known to be the friends of mad Anne Catherick (address unknown), who falsely claims the identity of Lady Glyde. To the rest of the world, Laura, Lady Glyde, is dead. Dead to her uncle, who has refused to recognize her; dead to the lawyers, who have passed her fortune to her husband and aunt.

But to Marian and me she is alive! Penniless and sadly changed — her beauty faded, her mind confused — but alive, with her poor drawing teacher to fight her battles and to win her way back to the world of living beings. She is mine at last — mine to support, to protect, to defend. And mine to love.


drown v. to kill by submerging and suffocating in liquid 淹死;溺死

strengthen v. make stronger 变得坚强

veil n. a piece of fabric attached to a woman's hat 面纱

earn one's bread earn one's living 维持生计

penniless adj. having no money 身无分文的

9.墓碑

1850年10月13日我离开中美洲的原始森林,回到了英国。我一次次逃过疾病、战争和洪水带来的死亡危险。我希望这些经历能够使我更加坚强地面对未来——没有劳拉的未来。在我心里她依然是劳拉·费尔利,我无法把她冠以她丈夫的姓氏。

我回来后的第一件事是到汉普斯特德看望母亲和妹妹。欢聚的快乐很快转化为悲伤。我没有任何秘密瞒着母亲,从她充满爱怜和同情的眼光里,我预感到最坏的事情发生了。

她们把消息告诉了我。我尽最大努力不让自己的悲哀破坏我回家带给母亲和妹妹的喜悦。但是,回来的第三天,我觉得必须一个人离开一段时间。

“让我到利默里奇去一趟吧,”我恳求着母亲,“看到她的坟墓,我可以更好地接受这一切。”

那是一个秋日的午后,天气很暖和,我到达目的地车站,走在熟悉的大路上,望着远处利默里奇庄园的白色高墙。在教堂墓地里,我找到了劳拉的墓,在她的墓碑前跪下来,闭上了双眼。

我的爱人我的爱人我最亲爱的人

几个小时过去了,落日的余辉在死者的安息地投下长长的影子。我跪在那里,完全没有了时间概念。这时,寂静中传来人走在草地上的脚步声。

我抬起头来。

不远处,教堂墓地的围墙边站着两个女人,面纱遮住了她们的脸。她们正朝墓地张望,正朝张望。

两个女人。

她们朝我走来。其中一个掀起了面纱,借着仅有的一点儿光线,我看出那是玛丽安·哈尔库姆小姐。她的脸变得跟从前不一样了:清瘦而苍白,充满了痛苦和恐惧。

头戴面纱的女人缓慢地向我走来。玛丽安·哈尔库姆跪下来,轻声说:“噢,上帝,帮帮他吧,帮帮他吧,上帝!”

头戴面纱的女人向我走来,缓慢地,无言地向我走来。我注视着她——目不转睛地久久注视着她。她占据了我的一切,我的灵魂和肉体。她在墓碑前停住脚步,我们隔着坟墓互相注视着。

“噢,上帝,帮帮他,帮帮他吧!”

那个女人掀起了面纱。

爱妻劳拉·格莱德夫人之墓……

劳拉·格莱德夫人,她就站在墓碑旁,隔着坟墓望着我。

alt

*  *  *

生活突然间变了。一个崭新的未来展现在我的面前,就像在山顶上看到的撒满阳光的景色。我把过去的故事留在了利默里奇教堂那寂静的阴影中,一星期后在喧闹、繁忙的伦敦开始了新的生活。

我换了一个姓氏租了房子。玛丽安和劳拉也用同样的姓氏,对外人就说是我的姐妹。我靠给廉价杂志画画维持生计。我们没有请仆人,我的姐姐,玛丽安亲自做家务。我和玛丽安对外就说是疯女人安妮·凯瑟里克(住址不详)的朋友,那疯女人总说自己是格莱德夫人。对世界上其他人来说,劳拉·格莱德夫人已经死了;对拒不承认她的叔叔,她已经死了;对把她的财产转给她丈夫和姑妈的律师,她也已经死了。

但是对于玛丽安和我,她还活着!她身无分文,人也变了——她的美丽在消逝,头脑一片混乱——但她还活着,她那可怜的绘画教师要为她奋争,使她重新回到真实的生活中来。她终于属于我了——由我供养、呵护、保护,由我所爱。

10
The rescue

At the first opportunity we had, Marian told me everything that had happened to her and Laura. The hardest part for her was after she had returned to Limmeridge House.

'I was in despair, Walter,' she said. 'Mr Kyrle's investigation was finished, and had shown nothing, he said. Mr Fairlie was no help at all — I heard that he didn't even leave his room to go to the funeral! But he did show me a letter he'd received from Count Fosco, which contained news of Anne Catherick. The Count said that Anne Catherick had been found and put back in the asylum from which she had escaped. But because she hated Sir Percival and wanted to make trouble for him, she was now claiming that she was not Anne Catherick at all, but Lady Glyde. The Count warned Mr Fairlie that if she escaped again, she might try to annoy members of Lady Glyde's family.

'I wasn't well enough to do anything for about a month after returning to Limmeridge, but when I felt stronger, I decided to make some investigations myself. First, I planned to visit the asylum in London and talk to poor Anne Catherick, to find out why she was claiming to be Laura. I knew the address because you had given it to me, all those months ago.

'Well, Walter, you can guess what's coming, I'm sure. The director of the asylum, who seemed an honest person, told me that Anne Catherick had been brought back on 27th July. He was puzzled by some odd personal changes in her, but assumed they were caused by her mental illness. He then called a nurse to take me to Anne Catherick, who was walking in the gardens.

'Imagine the shock, Walter — seeing my dead sister walking towards me in that garden! We just ran into each other's arms, unable to say a word. How the nurse stared at us!'

'I think I know how you must have felt,' I said. 'I shall never forget in the churchyard at Limmeridge... But tell me, however did you get Laura out of the asylum?'

'Bribery, Walter. I didn't want to risk a legal battle and all the delay that would involve, so I persuaded the nurse that a terrible mistake had been made and she would be doing a good thing in helping Anne Catherick escape. And I offered her £400. The plan went smoothly, and by early afternoon the next day Laura and I were on the train to Cumberland.'

'And Laura?' I asked. 'What actually happened on the day she left Blackwater Park and came to London?'

Marian sighed. 'Oh, Walter, it's not at all clear. Poor Laura's mind is so confused now that her memory of events is very unreliable. She can't even remember the date she left Blackwater. All she has been able to tell me is this. The Count met her at the station, and said that I was still in London and that he would take her to see me at once. She doesn't remember where the cab went, but it was clearly not to his house in St John's Wood. She was taken to a house in a narrow street, where people came and went, asking her questions she didn't understand. At this point the Count told her I was now very ill; she was so frightened by this news she nearly fainted. Someone then gave her a glass of water, which she said tasted odd — and after that she lost consciousness.'

'Poor, poor Laura,' I murmured.

'She woke up,' Marian continued, 'in the asylum, unable to leave, unable to make contact with the outside world. She was called by Anne Catherick's name and found she was wearing clothes with Anne Catherick's name on them. She was told Lady Glyde was dead and buried, and that she was Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick... Day in, day out, from 27th July to 15th October, she was made to feel that she was mad. It's hardly surprising her mind is so confused now.'

'And what happened at Limmeridge?' I asked.

Marian turned her face away. 'I can't bear to think about it,' she said. 'The worst part was taking Laura into Mr Fairlie's room. He looked straight into Laura's face and said, "My niece is buried in Limmeridge churchyard. I don't recognize this woman. Remove her from my house before I call on the law to protect me." Even the servants were doubtful about her identity, because she was so much changed and so confused by her experiences. Perhaps people would have been persuaded if we'd stayed longer, but I didn't dare risk it. At any minute the people from the asylum might come looking for us, so I decided to return to London at once and hide. Then, as we were passing the churchyard, Laura insisted on a last look at her mother's grave. And... well, that moment changed our three lives.'

'I think God was guiding Laura's footsteps,' I said.

How well I remember that day — that moment when Laura laid her poor head innocently and trustingly on my shoulder, and said, 'They have tried to make me forget everything, Walter, but I remember Marian, and I remember you.'

*  *  *

The plot against Laura was now clear. Anne Catherick had been taken into Count Fosco's house as Lady Glyde, and Lady Glyde had taken the dead woman's place in the asylum. It was also clear that the three of us could expect no mercy from Count Fosco and Sir Percival, who between them had gained £30,000 from the plot. They would do everything in their power to prevent their crime being discovered, and would hunt for their victim to separate her from her only friends — Marian and myself. This is why I had chosen a poor and crowded part of London to live in. It is easier to hide in a place where people are always coming and going.

Our life quickly took on a regular pattern — work, watching out for our enemies, and care of Laura, whom we surrounded with a gentle, protective love, helping her slowly but steadily to recover her balance of mind and her self-confidence.

Meanwhile, Marian and I began the battle. We studied the statements that Mr Kyrle had taken from witnesses — the doctor, and the servants and cook in Count Fosco's house. I obtained a copy of Lady Glyde's death certificate, and Marian wrote to Mrs Michelson, who replied, saying that she could not remember the exact date of Laura's departure from Blackwater Park. Nor could she remember when the letter announcing Laura's death, which was undated, had arrived from Madame Fosco.

I also arranged to visit Mr Kyrle, to ask for his help. After listening to my long explanation, the lawyer shook his head.

'My legal opinion, Mr Hartright, is that you won't win this case in a court of law. I accept, of course, that the identity of Lady Glyde as a living person is a proved fact to Miss Halcombe and yourself. But there is no evidence. If you could prove that the date on the death certificate was earlier than the date of Lady Glyde's journey to London, then you might have a case.'

As I left, he gave me a letter that had been delivered to him for Marian, and told me, in answer to my question, that Sir Percival Glyde had returned to London.

Outside in the street I soon noticed two men following me, and realized too late that the Count's spies must have been watching the lawyer's office, in the hope that Marian or I would go there. I went home by a very long route and managed to lose them, but it was a warning to me to be more careful.

Marian was very worried when I told her about the two men. Then I gave her the letter. She recognized the writing instantly.

'It's from Count Fosco.'


Dear and admirable woman, do not be afraid! Stay hidden, with your gentle companion, and nothing will happen to you. Challenge nothing, threaten nobody. Do not, I beg you, force me into action. If Mr Hartright returns to England, do not speak to him. If he crosses my path, he is a Lost man. F.


'Walter!' Marian said, her eyes flashing with anger. 'If ever the Count and Sir Percival are at your mercy and you must spare one of them, don't let it be the Count.'

'I'll keep this letter to remind me when the time comes,' I said. 'But tomorrow I will go to Blackwater, to try and find out the date of Laura's journey to London. It's the one weak point in their plot.'

'You mean that perhaps Laura did not leave for London until after the date on the death certificate?'

'Exactly. I think she left on 26th July. The Director of the asylum said she was taken there on the 27th. I doubt if they could have kept her drugged more than one night. We know from Mrs Michelson that Sir Percival left on the same day as Laura. I'll ask everyone in the village if they remember when he left.'

'And if that fails?'

'If that fails, Marian, I'll force a confession from Sir Percival. We have one weapon against him — his secret. Anne Catherick said that if his secret was known, it would ruin him. I intend to find out that secret. The woman in white, though dead in her grave, is still with us and is showing us the way!'


bribery n. persuading a person to act in one's favor by a gift of money or services 贿赂

unreliable adj. not liable 不可靠的

plot n. a conspiracy or secret plan esp. to achieve an unlawful end 阴谋

mercy n. kindness, pity, and willingness to forgive 仁慈

cross one's path meet sb by chance 与…偶然相遇

flash v. burst 闪烁

10.营救

我们刚一有机会交谈,玛丽安就把她和劳拉的遭遇从头到尾讲给我听。最令她难过的是回到利默里奇之后的经历。

“我太绝望了,沃尔特,”她说,“克尔先生的调查结束了,他说什么也没发现。费尔利先生一点儿忙也不帮——我听说他甚至都没离开他的房间去参加葬礼!不过他倒是把福斯科伯爵的信给了我,信里面有安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。伯爵说安妮·凯瑟里克已经找到了,被送回了原来的精神病院。但是,凯瑟里克因为痛恨珀西瓦尔爵士,想给他找麻烦,所以她现在自称不是安妮·凯瑟里克,而是格莱德夫人。伯爵提醒费尔利先生,假如她再逃出来,很可能要给格莱德夫人的家人添乱子。

“回来的头一个月,我身体虚弱,什么也干不了。后来身体恢复了,我决定亲自去调查。首先,我准备去伦敦的精神病院找可怜的安妮·凯瑟里克谈谈,弄清楚为什么她要自称是劳拉。我知道地址,是你几个月前给我的。

“噢,沃尔特,我相信你能猜到接下来发生的事情。精神病院的院长看上去是个正直的人,他告诉我,安妮·凯瑟里克是7月27日被送回来的。他对凯瑟里克身上的变化感到很困惑,但他推测是由于精神方面的疾病造成的。然后,他叫一名护士带我去见安妮·凯瑟里克,她正在花园散步。

“想象一下,当时我有多么震惊,沃尔特——我看到自己死去的妹妹在花园里朝我走来!我们跑向对方,紧紧地抱在一起,一句话也说不出来。护士不解地望着我们。”

“我很清楚你当时的心情,”我说,“我永远不会忘记在利默里奇教堂墓地……可是,你是怎么把劳拉救出精神病院的呢?”

“贿赂,沃尔特。我不想打官司,那样太冒险,也会耽误很长时间。所以,我对护士说,这里一定有严重的误会,如果她能帮助安妮·凯瑟里克逃走,就做了一件天大的好事。之后,我给了她400英镑。计划进行得很顺利,第二天刚过中午,我和劳拉就乘上了开往坎伯兰郡的火车。”

“那么,劳拉呢?”我问,“她离开布莱克沃特庄园到伦敦后,到底发生了什么?”

玛丽安叹了口气,“噢,沃尔特,现在还不清楚。可怜的劳拉思维很乱,她的记忆不可靠。她连离开布莱克沃特的日期都记不起来。她能告诉我的就是,伯爵在车站接她,告诉她我还在伦敦,他要带劳拉马上去见我。她不记得车往哪里走了,但是很明显不是去伯爵在圣约翰伍德的家。她被带进一条小巷里的一间房子,那里人来人往,问一些她听不懂的问题。这时,伯爵告诉她我病得很严重,她听了非常害怕,几乎昏了过去。接着有人给了她一杯水,她说水的味道很怪,之后她就失去了知觉。”

“可怜的劳拉。”我低声自语着。

“她醒来以后,”玛丽安接着说,“发现自己在精神病院里,既不能离开,也无法同外界接触。别人叫她安妮·凯瑟里克,她发现自己穿着有安妮·凯瑟里克名字的衣服。别人告诉她格莱德夫人已经死了,被安葬了,她就是安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克……一天又一天,从7月27日到10月15日,他们强迫她认为自己疯了。难怪现在她思维混乱。”

“在利默里奇发生了什么?”我问道。

玛丽安把头转向一侧。“我简直不忍心想在那儿发生的事情。”她回答,“最糟的就是我带劳拉走进费尔利先生的房间后,他紧盯着劳拉的脸说:‘我侄女已经埋在利默里奇教堂墓地了。我不认识这个女人。赶快带她出去,不然我要用法律来保护自己了。’仆人们也对劳拉的身份很怀疑,因为她变化太大了,她的经历也让她思绪异常混乱。也许我们逗留的时间长一些,大家会被说服,但是我不想冒这个险,因为精神病院的人随时都会来找我们,所以我决定马上回伦敦躲起来。当我们经过教堂的时候,劳拉坚持要最后再看一眼她母亲的坟墓。后来……嗯,那一刻改变了我们三个人的生活。”

“我想是上帝在引导着劳拉的脚步。”我说。

我清楚地记得那天——可怜的劳拉将头依偎在我的肩头,充满了纯洁与信任。她说:“他们想叫我忘掉一切,沃尔特,但我还记得玛丽安,我还记得。”

*  *  *

针对劳拉的阴谋现在已经清楚了。安妮·凯瑟里克被当作格莱德夫人带进了福斯科伯爵的家里,格莱德夫人在精神病院里取代了那个已经死了的女人的位置。还有一点也很明显,福斯科伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士是不会放过我们三个的。他们两人从这个阴谋中得到30,000英镑。他们会尽一切可能不让他们的罪行败露,也会极力追寻他们所陷害的人,并把她同她的朋友们——玛丽安和我——分开。这就是为什么我选择伦敦一处既贫穷又拥挤的地方住下来,因为在一个人来人往的地方比较容易躲藏。

我们的生活很快形成了一个较为固定的模式——工作,留意我们的敌人,照顾劳拉。我们细心地照顾她,保护她,帮助她慢慢地恢复正常的思维和自信心。

与此同时,玛丽安和我开始了紧张的调查。我们仔细研究克尔先生记录的证词——分别来自医生以及伯爵家的仆人和厨师。我弄到了一份格莱德夫人的死亡证明。玛丽安给米切尔森太太写信,米切尔森太太回信说记不清劳拉离开布莱克沃特庄园的确切日期了,也记不清福斯科夫人来信通知他们劳拉死讯的具体时间了,那封信没有注明日期。

我还安排与克尔先生见面,请求他的帮助。听我把前因后果一一讲完后,克尔先生摇了摇头。

“作为律师,哈特里特先生,我认为你不会赢得这场官司。当然我同意,你和哈尔库姆小姐可以证明格莱德夫人还活着,但是你没有证据。如果你能证明死亡证明上的时间比格莱德夫人去伦敦的时间,那你可能会赢这场官司。”

我要离开的时候,他交给我一封信,是要他转给玛丽安的。同时,他在回答我的提问时透露,珀西瓦尔爵士已经回到伦敦了。

在外面的街道上,我很快注意到有两个人在跟踪我。我这才意识到伯爵的人肯定一直在监视克尔先生的办公室,以防玛丽安和我会到那儿去。我绕远路回家,设法甩掉了跟踪我的人,但是这件事提醒我今后要更加小心。

我把两个人跟踪我的事告诉了玛丽安,她非常担心。我把那封信交给她,她马上就认出了写信人的笔迹。

“是福斯科伯爵写的。”


亲爱的、尊敬的女士,请不要害怕!继续同你温柔的伙伴藏好,你们就不会有事。不要试图做任何事情,不要给任何人带来威胁。我请求你们,不要强迫我采取行动。如果哈特里特先生回英国来,不要同他接触。假如他找我的麻烦,他就死定了。福斯科。


“沃尔特!”玛丽安眼里闪着愤怒的光,“如果伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士落到你的手里,而你又必须放过他们中的一个的话,一定不要放过伯爵。”

“我要留着这封信,让它到时候提醒我应该怎么做,”我说,“明天我要去一趟布莱克沃特,查一查劳拉去伦敦的日期。这是他们阴谋中的一个漏洞。”

“你是说劳拉可能是在死亡证明上的日期之后才去伦敦的?”

“没错。我想她是7月26日动身的。精神病院的院长说她是27日被送进去的。我怀疑他们是否能让劳拉昏迷超过一晚上的时间。米切尔森太太说,珀西瓦尔爵士是和劳拉同一天离开的。我要问村里的每一个人,是不是还记得珀西瓦尔爵士什么时候离开的。”

“如果这样不行呢?”

“如果不行的话,玛丽安,我就逼珀西瓦尔爵士认罪。我们用他的秘密对付他,安妮·凯瑟里克说如果他的秘密让人知道了,那他就完了。我想查出他的秘密来。那个白衣女人虽说已经死了,但是还同我们在一起,她会为我们引路的!”

11
The investigation

The story of my first enquiries in Hampshire is soon told. Not a single person in the village of Blackwater could remember exactly when Sir Percival Glyde had left. Even the gardener at the house could only say it was some time in the last ten days of July.

'So, on to the next plan,' I said to Marian back in London, 'which is to pursue the secret. I need to talk to Anne Catherick's mother, but first I must find out something about her from Mrs Clements, Anne's friend. But how do I find Mrs Clements?'

Marian had the answer to that. 'You remember the farm she and Anne stayed at near Limmeridge? We'll write to them — they might know Mrs Clements' address.'

We were lucky. The farmer's wife did know the address, and wrote back by return to tell us. It was in London, not far from our rooms, and the next morning I was knocking at the door.

Mrs Clements was anxious to know if I had brought her any news of Anne, and very sad to learn that I had not. However, she was willing to tell me everything she knew.

'After leaving Limmeridge, sir,' she said, 'Anne and I went to live in the northeast of England, and that's when Anne started to suffer from heart disease. She wasn't at all well, but she insisted on travelling to Hampshire, because she wanted to speak to Lady Glyde. So we went there and stayed in a village near Blackwater — not too close as Anne was so frightened of Sir Percival.

'Each time Anne went to the lake to try to speak to Lady Glyde, I followed her at a distance. But the long walks made her so exhausted that she became ill again, so finally I went to the lake in her place to meet Lady Glyde. She didn't come that day, but a very fat man came instead with a message from her. The message was that we should return to London immediately, as Sir Percival would certainly find us if we stayed longer. Lady Glyde was going to London herself very soon and if we sent her our address, she would contact us.'

'But she didn't, did she?' I said, thinking how cleverly Count Fosco had lied to this kind woman.

'No, sir. I found lodgings and sent the address to Lady Glyde, but after two weeks we'd still heard nothing. Then one day a lady called in a cab. She said she came from Lady Glyde, who was staying at a hotel and wanted to arrange an interview with Anne. I agreed to go with this lady to make the arrangement, leaving Anne alone in our lodgings. But it was a wicked plot, sir. On the way the lady stopped the cab, saying she just had to collect something from a shop and would I wait for a few minutes. She never came back, sir. I waited for some time, and then I hurried home — and found Anne gone. Just disappeared.'

I asked Mrs Clements to describe this 'lady', and it seemed clear from her description that it was Madame Fosco. So I now knew how the Count had got Anne Catherick to London and separated her from Mrs Clements.

'I never found out what happened to Anne,' Mrs Clements said sadly. 'I made enquiries. I even wrote to her mother, but she didn't know anything. I miss poor Anne so much. She was like a daughter to me, you see, sir.'

'And I'm sure you were a kind mother to her,' I said. 'A better mother than her own mother.'

'That wasn't difficult,' said Mrs Clements. 'Mrs Catherick is a hard woman. She seemed to hate the child, and was only too pleased when I offered to bring her up. Then one day she took Anne to Limmeridge to stay with a sister, and after that she kept Anne from me. I didn't see Anne again till she escaped from the asylum — with your help, sir. And then she was always talking about a secret her mother had which could ruin Sir Percival. But you know, sir, I don't think Anne really knew what this secret was. If she had known, I'm sure she would have told me.'

I had wondered about that myself, and now I tried to turn the conversation on to Mrs Catherick.

'Did you know Mrs Catherick before Anne was born?'

'Yes, for about four months. We were neighbours in Welmingham. Mr and Mrs Catherick had just got married, and Mr Catherick had a job as clerk at Welmingham church. Before that, Mrs Catherick had been a servant at a large house. She was a selfish, heartless woman, and treated her poor husband very badly. Before long, there was a lot of talk about her and a young gentleman, who was staying at a hotel nearby. And Mr Catherick told my husband that he'd found expensive presents, gold rings and suchlike, hidden in his wife's drawer.'

'And who was this gentleman?' I asked.

'You know him, sir. And so did my poor dear Anne.'

'Sir Percival Glyde?' My heart began to beat faster. Was I getting close to the secret?

'That's right. His father had recently died abroad, and Sir Percival had just arrived in the neighbourhood. People thought, you see, that maybe Mrs Catherick had known Sir Percival before, and had married Mr Catherick just to save her reputation, because of, well, you know... Anyway, one night Mr Catherick found his wife whispering with Sir Percival outside the vestry of the church. They had a fight, but Sir Percival beat him and Mr Catherick left the village, never to return again. And in spite of all the talk in the village, Mrs Catherick stayed. She said she was innocent and that no one would drive her away. But most people thought that the money she lived on came from Sir Percival.'

The secret was here somewhere. But where? That Sir Percival was Anne's father was hardly a secret since everyone already thought that. No, there was another mystery somewhere.

'And what did you think, Mrs Clements?'

'Well, sir, if you worked out time and place, it was obvious that Mr Catherick wasn't Anne's father. But Anne wasn't at all like Sir Percival; and nor was she like her mother.'

I wondered about the house where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Perhaps I would make some enquiries later.

'You've been very kind, Mrs Clements,' I said, 'answering all my questions. One last request. Will you tell me Mrs Catherick's address? I have to find out this secret, and only she can tell me.'

Mrs Clements gave me the address, but shook her head. 'Take care, sir. She's an awful woman. You don't know her as I do.'

*  *  *

Back at our rooms I announced my intention to Marian of going to Welmingham. She was very uneasy about the plan.

'Are you sure it's wise, Walter? Sir Percival is a violent man.'

'I'm more afraid for you and Laura,' I said, 'left alone in London, with the Count as your enemy.'

We arranged to write to each other every day; and if no letter came from her, I would take the first train back to London.

*  *  *

Three days later I was standing in Mrs Catherick's sitting room, face to face with a grey-haired woman, dressed in black silk. Her dark eyes looked straight at me with a hard, cold stare.

'You say you have come to speak to me about my daughter,' she said. 'Please say what you have to say.'

Her voice was as hard as the expression in her eyes. She pointed to a chair, and looked at me carefully as I sat down.

'You know,' I said, 'that your daughter is lost?'

'I know that perfectly well.'

'Don't you worry that she might not be just lost, but that she might have met with her death?'

'Yes. Have you come to tell me that she is dead?'

'I have.'

'Why?'

She asked that extraordinary question without the slightest change in her voice, face, or manner. I might have been talking about the death of a cat in the street.

'I thought Anne's mother might be interested in knowing if she was alive or dead.'

'Just so,' she said. 'But what is your interest in her, or in me? Have you no other reason for coming here?'

'Yes, I do,' I said. 'Your daughter's death has caused someone I love to be harmed — by a man called Sir Percival Glyde.'

She did not react at all at the mention of his name.

'I want to make him confess to his crime. You know certain things about him from the time when your husband was the church clerk. I want you to tell me about them.'

At last I saw the anger burning in her eyes.

'What do you know about those events?'

'Everything that Mrs Clements could tell me.'

'Mrs Clements is a foolish woman.' She bit back her anger, and her lips curled in an unpleasant little smile. 'Ah, I begin to understand. You want your revenge on Sir Percival Glyde, and you want my help. That's why you've come here. Well, you don't know me. I've spent years getting back my reputation in this village. Now everyone respects me. I won't help you.'

'If you're afraid of Sir Percival, that's quite understandable,' I said. 'He's a powerful man, and comes from a great family —'

To my amazement, she suddenly burst out laughing.

'From a great family! Yes, indeed! Especially from his mother's side,' she said with disgust.

Whatever did she mean by that, I wondered?

'The secret between you and Sir Percival was not guilty love,' I insisted. 'It was something else that brought you and him to those stolen meetings outside the vestry of the church.'

As I said the words 'vestry of the church', I saw a wave of terror pass across her face.

'Go!' she said. 'And never come back. Unless' — and she gave a slow, cruel smile — 'unless you bring news of his death.'

*  *  *

It was now late, and I made my way to the nearest hotel. There was much to think about. Why should mention of the church vestry cause terror? Why the disgust at Sir Percival's family, especially his mother? Was there something unusual about his parents' marriage? Perhaps the local marriage register was kept in the vestry of Welmingham church...

The next day I went to the church. I had been aware of being followed the previous evening, and now I caught sight of the same two men I had seen outside Mr Kyrle's office in London. It seemed that Sir Percival had expected me to visit Mrs Catherick, and was now expecting me to visit Welmingham church — proof, surely, that my investigation was going in the right direction.

I found the church clerk, who fetched his keys and took me to the vestry. It could only be entered from the outside of the church, and the clerk had great difficulty opening the lock, which was very old. Once inside, I asked to see the marriage register. It was kept in a cupboard which could easily be forced open.

'Is that a safe enough place to keep the register?' I said.

'Safe enough,' the clerk said. 'A copy is kept by a lawyer in the next village — Mr Wansborough's office in Knowlesbury.'

I worked backwards in the register from Sir Percival's year of birth and there, under September of the previous year, squashed into a small space at the bottom of the page, was the record of the marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster of Knowlesbury. Just the usual information. Nothing apparently peculiar about Sir Percival's mother. The secret seemed further away than ever.

But on to Knowlesbury, and Mr Wansborough's office — a five-mile walk, but possible to get there and back by the end of the day. It was worth checking the copy of the register, and perhaps the lawyer would know something that might be useful.


pursue v. continue to investigate 继续调查

lodgings n. rooms rented for lodging in 租用的房子

bring up raise 抚养

heartless adj. unfeeling, pitiless 无情的

vestry n. a room or building attached to a church for keeping vestments in 教堂的法衣室

react v. undergo a change or show behaviour due to some influence 反应

bite back restrain 克制

burst out suddenly begin 突然做……

disgust n. strong aversion 不屑

make one's way to go to 到……去

catch sight of see, find 看到

11.调查

下面是我在汉普郡初步调查的情况。布莱克沃特村没有一个人记得珀西瓦尔爵士离开的确切时间。园丁也仅仅记得大概是7月下旬。

“那么,开始下一步行动吧,”回到伦敦我对玛丽安说,“查出那个秘密来。我需要找到安妮·凯瑟里克的母亲,但我必须首先找到安妮的朋友克莱门茨太太,从她那里了解一些情况。可怎么才能找到克莱门茨太太?”

玛丽安想出了办法:“还记得克莱门茨太太和安妮在利默里奇附近住过的农场吗?我们给他们写信,也许他们知道克莱门茨太太的地址。”

我们很幸运,农场主的妻子真的知道地址,她回信告诉了我们。她就住在伦敦,离我们住的地方不远。第二天上午,我就找到了那个地方,敲响了房门。

克莱门茨太太急切地想知道我是否带来了安妮的消息,当我告诉她没有的时候,她非常难过。不过,她愿意把她知道的一切都告诉我。

“离开利默里奇以后,先生,”她对我说,“安妮和我去了英国东北部,这个时候安妮得了心脏病。她身体很不好,但她坚持到汉普郡去见格莱德夫人。所以我们就去了那儿,住在布莱克沃特附近的一个村子里——那地方离布莱克沃特不是很近,因为安妮非常害怕珀西瓦尔爵士。

“每一次安妮到湖边去见格莱德夫人,我都在远处跟着她。但是走那么远的路让她非常疲劳,结果她又病了。最后我代替她到湖边去见格莱德夫人。那天格莱德夫人没有来,来的是一个很胖的男人,他捎来了格莱德夫人的口信,让我们赶快回伦敦,因为如果在这里呆久了,珀西瓦尔爵士肯定会发现我们。格莱德夫人自己很快也会到伦敦去,如果我们把地址给她,她会跟我们联系。”

“但是她没跟你们联系,对吗?”我问,心想伯爵对这个善良的女人说的谎真是高明啊。

“没错,先生。我找到了住处,把地址寄给了格莱德夫人,可是两个星期过去了,我们没收到任何回音。后来,有一天一位夫人乘马车到这里来。她说她从格莱德夫人那儿来,格莱德夫人住在一家旅店,想安排同安妮见面。我答应同那位夫人去安排见面的事,把安妮一个人留在住处。可这是个恶毒的阴谋,先生。走到半路,那位夫人说要去商店取点儿东西,让我等几分钟。她去了就再没回来,先生。我等了好一阵子,然后赶忙回家——回来后却发现安妮不见了。就这么消失了。”

我让克莱门茨太太描述一下那位“夫人”的样子,根据她的描述,那人很显然是福斯科夫人。现在我明白伯爵是怎么把安妮·凯瑟里克弄到伦敦,又怎么把她和克莱门茨太太分开的了。

“我不知道安妮到底出了什么事,”克莱门茨太太伤心地说,“我调查过,甚至给她母亲写过信,但是她什么也不知道。我现在非常想念可怜的安妮。你知道,她就像我的女儿一样,先生。”

“我相信你是她的好母亲,”我说,“比她的亲生母亲还要亲。”

“那倒没什么难的,”克莱门茨太太说,“凯瑟里克太太是一个铁石心肠的女人。她好像仇视这个孩子,我提出抚养这孩子时,她非常高兴。后来有一天她把安妮带到利默里奇同她的妹妹住在一起。再后来,她就不让我见安妮了。安妮从精神病院逃出来之前,我就再没见到过她。她逃出来还是你帮的忙呢,先生。从那以后,她—直说她母亲知道一个秘密,那秘密会毁了珀西瓦尔爵士。但是,先生,我觉得安妮并不真的知道那个秘密。如果她真的知道,我相信她早就告诉我了。”

我自己也想过这个问题。但是,现在我努力把话题转向凯瑟里克太太。

“安妮出生前,你就认识凯瑟里克太太吗?”

“认识,大概有四个月的时间。我们在韦明翰是邻居。当时凯瑟里克夫妇刚刚结婚,凯瑟里克先生在韦明翰教堂当职员。结婚前,凯瑟里克太太在一个大户人家当仆人。她是一个自私、狠心的女人,对她可怜的丈夫非常不好。不久,关于她和住在附近旅店的一个年轻人有了很多风言风语。凯瑟里克先生对我丈夫说,他发现他妻子的抽屉里藏着许多贵重礼物,金戒指什么的。”

“那个年轻人是谁?”我问。

“你认识他,先生。我可怜的安妮也认识他。”

“珀西瓦尔爵士?”我的心跳开始加速。我是不是接近那个秘密了?

“就是他。他父亲那时在国外去世,珀西瓦尔爵士刚刚到这里来。大家都说很可能凯瑟里克太太早就认识珀西瓦尔爵士,她和凯瑟里克先生结婚就是想挽救自己的名声,因为,嗯,你知道……不管怎样,一天晚上,凯瑟里克先生看到他妻子和珀西瓦尔爵士在教堂的法衣室外窃窃私语。他们打了起来。珀西瓦尔爵士打了他。之后,凯瑟里克先生就离开了那个村子,再也没回来。尽管村子里流言满天飞,凯瑟里克太太还是一直住在那里。”她说自己是清白的,谁也赶不走她。不过大多数人都认为她是靠珀西瓦尔爵士的钱维持生活的。”

秘密就在这里。可是到底是什么呢?珀西瓦尔爵士是安妮的父亲,这已经不是什么秘密了,大家早就这么想了。不对,这里一定还有隐情。

“那你怎么看,克莱门茨太太?”

“嗯,如果从时间和地点来看,很明显凯瑟里克先生不是安妮的父亲。但是,安妮一点儿也不像珀西瓦尔爵士,也不像她母亲。”

我想到凯瑟里克太太当仆人的那家,也许什么时候我可以到那儿调查一下。

“真是太谢谢了,克莱门茨太太,”我说,“你回答了我那么多问题。最后我还有个请求,你能告诉我凯瑟里克太太的地址吗?我必须查清楚这个秘密,只有她可以告诉我。”

克莱门茨太太把地址给了我,但是摇了摇头,“你要小心,先生。她是一个很可怕的女人,你没有我了解她。”

*  *  *

回到住处,我把要去韦明翰的想法告诉了玛丽安,她非常担优。

“你觉得这样好吗,沃尔特?珀西瓦尔爵士是个心狠手辣的人。”

“我更担心的是你和劳拉,”我说,“就你们两个留在伦敦,还要对付伯爵。”

我们商量好每天都互相写信,如果没有收到玛丽安的来信,我就搭乘最早的一班火车回伦敦来。

*  *  *

三天后,我已经站在凯瑟里克太太的客厅里了。我面前是一个头发灰白的女人,穿着黑色绸衣。她的一双黑眼睛冷冷地盯着我。

“你说你来跟我谈我女儿的事,”她开口说,“有什么话就请讲吧。”

她的声音像她的眼神一样冷。她指了指一把椅子,我坐下以后,她开始仔细地打量我。

“你知道,”我说,“你女儿失踪了吗?”

“我非常清楚。”

“难道你不担心她可能不光是失踪了,有可能她已经死了?”

“我想过。那你是来告诉我,她已经死了?”

“是的。”

“为什么?”

提出这样荒谬的问题,她的声音、表情和举止居然没有任何变化,就好像我刚才谈的是街上死了一只猫。

“我原以为安妮的母亲会关心她的生死。”

“就为了这个啊,”她说,“但是你为什么对她或我感兴趣呢?你到这里来没有其他原因?”

“有,”我回答,“你女儿的死使我所爱的人受到了伤害——是一个叫珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士的人干的。”

我提到了珀西瓦尔的名字,她一点儿反应都没有。

“我要让他承认他所犯下的罪行,你丈夫在教堂当职员的时候,你就知道了他的一些事,我希望你把所知道的告诉我。”

我终于在她眼里看到了愤怒的目光。

“你是怎么知道这些事的?”

“克莱门茨太太把她知道的都告诉我了。”

“克莱门茨太太是个愚蠢的女人。”她压下怒火,双唇勾起一丝恶意的微笑。“呵,我开始懂了。要向珀西瓦尔爵士报仇,需要帮忙。这就是你来这里的原因。你不了解我。我在这个村子住了这么多年,才挽回我的名誉。现在大家都很尊敬我,我不会帮你的。”

“如果你害怕珀西瓦尔爵士,那是可以理解的,”我说,“他是个有权势的人,出身名门——”

令我吃惊的是,她突然大笑起来。

“出身名门!是,没错!尤其是他母亲那一边。”她不屑地说。

她这话是什么意思?我不明白。

“你和他之间的秘密不是什么婚外情,”我接着说,“是别的事情使得你们在教堂的法衣室外秘密见面。”

在提到“教堂的法衣室”时,我注意到她的脸上掠过一阵恐惧。

“滚出去!”她大声喊着,“再也不要回来。除非”——她脸上慢慢露出残忍的笑意——“除非你来告诉我他死了。”

*  *  *

天色已晚,我朝最近的旅店走去。有许多问题需要思考。为什么提到教堂的法衣室她就害怕了?为什么她瞧不起珀西瓦尔爵士的家庭,特别是他的母亲?难道他父母的婚姻有什么特别的地方?也许当地的婚姻登记记录就存放在韦明翰教堂的法衣室……

第二天我去了教堂。我已经注意到前一天晚上有人跟踪我,这会儿我又看到在伦敦克尔先生办公室外见到的那两个人在跟着我。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士已经料到我要来见凯瑟里克太太,现在又料到我来韦明翰教堂——这些恰好证明我的调查方向是正确的。

我找到了教堂职员,他找来钥匙,带我来到教堂的法衣室。法衣室只能从教堂外面进去,职员费了好大劲儿才打开那把旧锁。进去以后,我说要看看婚姻登记记录。那些记录放在一个柜子里,柜子的门很容易被撬开。

“婚姻登记记录放在这里安全吗?”我问。

“很安全,”职员回答,“另一个副本存放在邻村的律师那里,就是万斯伯勒先生的办公室,在诺雷斯伯里。”

我从珀西瓦尔爵士出生那年的记录开始往前面查,在前一年的9月,有一页在靠下的角落里记着费利克斯·格莱德爵士和诺雷斯伯里的塞西莉亚结婚。只是非常一般的记录,看不出珀西瓦尔爵士的母亲有什么特殊的地方。秘密好像比以前离我更远了。

接下来,我奔赴诺雷斯伯里万斯伯勒先生的办公室——大约有5英里的路程,但是在天黑前赶回来还是可能的。很有必要查看一下记录的副本,也许律师会知道一些有用的信息。

12
The secret

Sir Percival's spies attacked me on the road to Knowlesbury. One of them came up beside me, and bumped into me with his shoulder. I pushed him away, hard, and he immediately shouted for help. The other man ran up and the two of them held me between them. The first man accused me of attacking him, and they said they would take me to the police station in the town.

What could I do? I couldn't fight both of them and hope to get away, so I had to go with them.

At the police station the first man accused me of a violent attack, and the second man said he was a witness. I was locked up until the next magistrate's court, which was three days away. I could be released on bail, I was told, but how could I, a total stranger in the town, find a responsible person willing to pay money for my temporary freedom? The whole plan was now clear — to get me out of the way for three days, while Sir Percival did whatever was necessary to prevent his secret being discovered.

At first I was too angry to think clearly. Then I remembered Mr Dawson, the doctor. I had been to his house on my previous visit to Blackwater, so I knew his address. I wrote him a letter, explaining what had happened and begging for his help, and then asked for a messenger to deliver it. Two hours later the good doctor appeared, paid the required money and I was set free.

There was no time to lose. The news of my being free would doubtless reach Sir Percival within hours. I hurried to the lawyer's office, where I asked if I could see the copy of the Welmingham marriage register. Mr Wansborough was a pleasant man and agreed to show me the copy. In fact, he was quite amused. No one had asked to see it since his father (now dead) had locked it away in the office more than twenty years before.

As I opened the register, my hands trembled. I turned the pages to the year and month. I found the names I remembered just before, and just after, the marriage of Sir Percival's parents. And between these entries, at the bottom of the page...?

Nothing! The marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster was not there! I looked again, to be sure. No, nothing. Not a doubt about it. Sir Percival must have seen the space in the Welmingham register and written in the marriage himself.

I had never once suspected this. He was not Sir Percival Glyde at all! His parents had not been married, so he had no right to the inheritance of Blackwater Park, no right to the rank of Baronet, no right even to the name of Glyde! This was his secret — and it was now mine to use against him!

The copy of the register would be safe enough in the lawyer's office, but I decided to go back to Welmingham and make a copy of the false record from the church register. It was dark now and I ran all the way to the church clerk's house. I knocked on his door, but when he appeared, he looked suspicious and confused.

'Where are the keys?' he asked. 'Have you taken them?'

'What keys do you mean?' I said. 'I've just this minute arrived from Knowlesbury.'

'The keys of the vestry,' he said. 'The keys are gone! Someone's broken in and taken the keys.'

'Get a light,' I said, 'and let's go to the vestry. Quick!'

We ran to the church. On the path we passed a man who looked at us with frightened eyes. He seemed to be a servant of some kind. We did not stop to question him, but ran on.

As we came in sight of the vestry, I saw a high window brilliantly lit from within. There was a strange smell on the night air, a sound of cracking wood, and the light grew brighter and brighter. I ran to the door and put my hand on it. The vestry was on fire!

I heard the key working violently in the lock — I heard a man's voice behind the door, raised in terror, screaming for help.

'Oh, my God!' said the servant, who had followed us, 'it's Sir Percival!'

'God help him!' said the clerk. 'He's damaged the lock.'

*  *  *

At that moment I forget the man's crimes and see only the horror of his situation. Several people are now running towards the church and I call to them to help me break down the door. We look desperately for something to use, and at last someone finds a long heavy piece of wood.

By now the flames are shooting up out of the window, and the screams have stopped. We get the wood into position and run at the door with it. Again, and again! At last the door crashes down, but a wave of heat hits our faces and drives us back — and in the room we see nothing but a sheet of living fire.

*  *  *

The church itself was saved as the fire engine arrived soon afterwards and managed to put out the fire before it spread. They carried out the body of Sir Percival Glyde and laid it on the wet ground. I looked down on his dead face and this was how, for the first and last time, I saw him.

He must have heard that I was free and on my way back to Welmingham, so he hurried to the church, stealing the keys and locking himself in to prevent anyone coming in and finding him. All he could do was tear the page out of the register and destroy it. If the false record no longer existed, I could produce no evidence to threaten him with. He must have dropped his lamp by accident, which started the fire. Then in his urgency to get out, the lock had become damaged and the key unmoveable.

I could not leave the town. There would be a legal enquiry into the accident the next day, which I had to attend, and in any case I had to report back to the police station in Knowlesbury. I returned to the hotel and wrote to Marian, telling her everything that had happened and warning her to keep the news from Laura for the moment. With Sir Percival's death, my hopes of establishing Laura's identity had also died, and I could see no way forward at present.

The next day an envelope with my name on was delivered to the hotel. The letter inside was neither dated nor signed, but before I had read the first sentence, I knew who had written it — Mrs Catherick.


Sir — I thought you were my enemy. Now that he is dead, because of you, I consider you my friend. To thank you for what you have done, I will now tell you the things you wanted to know about my private life.

Twenty-three years ago I was a beautiful young woman living in Welmingham, married to a fool of a husband. I also knew a gentleman — I shall not call him by his name. Why should I? It was not his own. I was born with expensive tastes. This man gave me expensive presents. Naturally he wanted something in return — all men do. And what did he want? Just a little thing. The key to the church vestry, when my husband's back was turned. I liked my presents, so I got him the key. I watched him in the vestry without his knowing, and saw what he was doing. I did not know then how serious a crime it was. I said I would not tell anyone about the marriage he had added to the register if he told me about his private life. He agreed — why, you will see in a moment.

He said that he only found out that his parents were not married after his mother's death. His father confessed to it and promised to do what he could for his son. But he died having done nothing. The son came to England and took possession of the property. There was no one to say he could not. In fact, the right person to claim the property was a distant relation away at sea. However, to borrow money on the property, he needed a certificate of his parents' marriage. This was a problem — a problem which brought him to Welmingham.

As his parents had mostly lived abroad and had had no social life in England, who was to say (the priest being dead) that a private marriage had not taken place at Welmingham church? His plan was to tear out a page from the marriage register in the year before his birth and destroy it. Then he would tell his lawyers in London to get the necessary certificate, innocently referring them to the date on the page that was gone. At least no one could say that his parents were not married.

However, when he saw there was a small space at the bottom of the page in the right year, he changed his plan and took the opportunity to write in the marriage himself. It took him some time, though, to practise the handwriting and to mix the right colour of ink, so that it looked the same.

After my husband caught me talking secretly to him and after their fight together, I asked my fine gentleman to clear my name and to say there had been nothing between us. But he refused. He wanted everyone to believe something false, so that they would never suspect the truth. He then told me that the punishment for his crime, and anyone who helped him, was life in prison. He frightened me! If I spoke out, I was just as lost as he was. He then agreed to make me a yearly payment if I said nothing and stayed in Welmingham, where he could always find me and where there was no danger of my making friends and talking. This was hard, but I accepted.

Many years later, when my daughter was with me at home, I received a letter from him which made me very angry. I lost control of myself and said, in her presence, that 'I could destroy him if I let out his secret'. Then one day he came to our house and called her a fool. Immediately she shouted, 'Ask for my pardon, now, or I'll let out your secret and destroy your life. 'My own words! He went white. Then he swore at us. It ended, as you know, by his shutting her up in an asylum. I tried to tell him she knew nothing. But he did not believe me. My daughter knew that she had frightened him and that he was responsible for shutting her up because he believed she knew his secret. That's why she hated him. But she never to her dying day knew what his secret actually was.

I will end by saying that you insult me if you think my husband was not my daughter's father. Please do not ask further questions about that. To protect myself, I mention no names in this letter, nor do I sign it.


magistrate n. an official conducting a court for minor cases 法官

bail n. money left with a court of law to prove that a prisoner will return when their trial starts 保释金

entry n. an item 条目

brilliantly adv. very brightly 非常亮

produce v. bring forward for consideration or inspection 拿出

12.秘密

在去往诺雷斯伯里的路上,珀西瓦尔爵士的人向我发起了攻击。其中一个走到我旁边,用肩膀撞我。我用力把他推开,他马上大喊起来。另一个人跑过来,他们两个把我夹在了中间。第一个人指责我打他,他们说要把我带到镇上的警察局去。

我能怎么办呢?我没办法打倒他们两个再逃走,现在只得跟他们走了。

到了警察局,第一个人说我打他,另一个人说他是证人。我被关了起来,等着三天后法官开庭审理。他们告诉我可以保释,可是我在这里一个人也不认识,怎么可能找到一个愿意负责的人出钱让我获得暂时的自由呢?他们的整个计划很清楚——让我消失三天,珀西瓦尔爵士就利用这段时间尽一切可能保证他的秘密不被发现。

刚开始,我非常气愤,头脑中一片混乱。后来我想起了道森先生,那位医生。上一次我去布莱克沃特的时候到过他家,所以我知道他的地址。我给他写了封信,告诉他出了什么事,请求他来帮我,然后找了一个送信的帮我把信送走。两个小时后,好心的医生来了,为我交了保释金,我自由了。

必须抓紧时间,因为我被释放的消息肯定几个小时之内就会传到珀西瓦尔爵士那里。我赶到律师的办公室,请求看一下韦明翰的结婚登记记录。万斯伯勒先生是个和气的人,他同意让我看副本。其实,应该说他很高兴,因为自从他父亲(现在已经去世了)20多年前把文件锁在办公室后,从未有人要求查看过。

我翻开记录副本的时候双手在颤抖。我找到了珀西瓦尔爵士父母结婚的年份和月份,以及在他们之前和之后结婚的男女方姓名记录。但是,在这些条目之间,在那一页的底下……?

什么也没有!费利克斯·格莱德爵士和塞西莉亚·埃尔斯特的婚姻根本就没有记录!为了保险起见,我又看了一遍。没有,什么也没有,毫无疑问。珀西瓦尔爵士可能在韦明翰的记录中看到了那个空白,然后自己填上了那条记录。

我从未怀疑到这一点。他根本就不是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士,他的父母没有结婚,他根本没有权利继承布莱克沃特庄园和爵位,甚至根本无权姓格莱德!这就是他的秘密——现在我要利用这个秘密来对付他!

婚姻登记的副本放在律师的办公室很安全,我决定返回韦明翰,复制一份教堂的假记录。天已经黑了,我一路跑到教堂职员的住处。我敲了门,职员出来的时候,脸上布满了疑虑。

“钥匙在哪儿?”他问我,“你把钥匙拿走了吗?”

“什么钥匙?”我说,“我刚从诺雷斯伯里过来。”

“法衣室的钥匙,”他说,“钥匙不见了!有人进来偷走了钥匙。”

“拿上灯,”我说,“我们去法衣室,快!”

我们向教堂跑去。路上碰见一个人,似乎是个仆人,他惊慌地看了看我们。我们没有停下来问他任何问题,而是继续向前跑。

当我们看到法衣室的时候,我发现从一个高处的窗户里发出很亮的光,夜晚的空气中有一股奇怪的味道,可以听到木头劈啪作响的声音,那光变得越来越亮。我跑到法衣室的门口,用手摸了摸门。法衣室起火了!

我听到钥匙在锁里使劲转动的声音——我听到门后有人害怕地高声喊救命。

“噢,上帝!”跟着我们跑过来的仆人说,“是珀西瓦尔爵士!”

“上帝啊,救救他!”职员说,“他把锁弄坏了。”

alt

*  *  *

这个时候,我忘记了这个人的罪恶,只想到他现在的危急处境。有几个人正朝教堂跑过来,我叫他们帮我把门弄开。我们到处找能弄开门的东西,最后有人找来一根很粗的长木头。

这时,火焰已经窜出了窗户,呼叫声已听不见了。我们抬着长木头,一次又一次朝门撞过去。最后门被撞倒了,热浪从屋里冲出来,使我们不得不往后退去——屋里除了一团火什么也看不见。

*  *  *

救火车很快赶到,没等火势蔓延就把火扑灭了,教堂本身没有受到破坏。人们把珀西瓦尔爵士的尸体抬了出来,放在潮湿的地上。我看了看他的脸,这是我第一次也是最后一次看到他。

他一定是听说我被放出来,而且正赶回韦明翰,所以急忙赶到教堂,偷了钥匙,把自己锁在屋子里,不让任何人进去发现他。他唯一能做的就是把那一页从登记簿上撕下来销毁。如果假记录没有了,我就拿不出证据来威胁他。他可能不小心把灯掉到地上,引起了大火。然后,他急着要出来,匆忙中弄坏了锁,钥匙转不动了。

我现在还不能离开这里。转天会有一个事故的法律调查,我必须参加。而且不管怎样,我还得向诺雷斯伯里的警察局报到。我回到旅店,写信给玛丽安,告诉她这里发生的事情,提醒她先不要把这个消息告诉劳拉。珀西瓦尔爵士死了,我证明劳拉身份的希望也不复存在,现在我不知下一步该怎么办。

第二天,一个写着我名字的信封被送到了旅店。里面的信既没有日期,也没有署名。但是还没看完第一句,我就知道是谁写的信了——凯瑟里克太太。

先生——我原以为你是我的敌人。现在因为你,他已经死了,我认为你是我的朋友。为感谢你的所作所为,我现在把你想知道的我的私事告诉你。

23年前,我是一个年轻漂亮的姑娘,住在韦明翰,嫁给了一位傻乎乎的丈夫。我还结识了一位绅士——我不会称呼他的名字。为什么要那样叫他?那不是他的名字。我生来就喜欢贵重的东西,这个人送给我许多贵重礼物,当然他是需要回报的——男人都是这样。这个男人要的是什么?很简单的一样东西。教堂法衣室的钥匙,当然要趁我丈夫不在的时候。我喜欢那些礼物,所以给他弄到了钥匙。我盯着他,看他在法衣室干什么,他并没发觉。当时我不知道那是多么严重的罪行。我跟他说,要是他告诉我他的私事,我不会告诉任何人他擅自增加结婚记录的事。他答应了——至于为什么,你往下看就明白了。

他说在他母亲死后,他才知道他的父母并没有结婚。他父亲承认了这件事,答应尽力为他儿子做些什么。可是他什么都没来得及做,就死去了。他的儿子来到英国继承了遗产。没人说他不能继承,实际上,真正应该继承遗产的是一个正在出海的远亲。然而,要想用那笔财产去借钱,他需要一份父母的结婚证明。这是个问题,为解决这个问题,他来到了韦明翰。

因为他父母大部分时间生活在国外,在英国没什么交际,所以谁会说(牧师已经死了)韦明翰教堂没举行过一场私下的婚礼呢?他的计划是把他出生前那一年的婚姻登记页撕下来销毁。然后,他就会告诉伦敦的律师们去取必要的证明文件,并假装不知情地把那个已经不存在的登记页上的日期告诉他们。至少谁也不会说他父母没结婚。

但是,他发现那年的登记页上靠下面有一点空白,于是改变了主意,趁机把他父母的婚姻写了进去。当然,他也颇费了些时间去模仿登记用的笔迹,还有配制合适的墨水颜色,让这条记录看起来跟其他的没有差别。

我丈夫看到我和他密谈,他们两个打了一架以后,我叫他帮我洗清名声,告诉别人我们之间什么也没发生,但是他拒绝了。他希望大家都相信并没有发生的事情,这样一来,人们就不会去想真相如何了。他还跟我说如果他的罪行败露,他以及帮过他的人都将被终生监禁。他让我害怕极了!如果我说出他的秘密,那我和他都完了。他答应每年支付我一笔钱,条件是我保持沉默,继续住在韦明翰,让他随时可以找到我,也免得我与人交朋友,然后乱讲话。虽说条件很苛刻,我还是答应了。

很多年以后,那时我女儿同我在一起,我收到他的一封信把我惹恼了。我无法控制自己,当着女儿的面说:“我把他的秘密说出去就能毁了他。”后来有一天,他来我家,管我女儿叫傻瓜,她一下子喊了起来:“赶快请求我原谅你,不然我就把你的秘密说出去,毁了你。”完全是我说过的话!他的脸一下子变白了。他向我们破口大骂。最后,你知道,他把她关进了精神病院。我试图告诉他,她什么也不知道。可是他不相信我。我女儿明白她使他害怕了,是他把她关进了精神病院,因为他认为她知道了他的秘密。这就是为什么她那么恨他。但是,她其实到死也不知道那秘密到底是什么。

最后我要说的是,如果你认为我丈夫不是我女儿的父亲,你就是污辱我。请不要多问了。为了保护我自己,信中没有提到任何名字,我也不会署名。

13
The threat

Mrs Catherick's extraordinary and shameless letter filled me with disgust. My interest in Sir Percival Glyde's crime was now at an end, but I decided to keep the letter in case it might help me find out who Anne's father really was.

Later in the morning I went to the legal enquiry into Sir Percival's death. I was only asked to say what had happened. I was not asked how I thought the keys had been taken, how the fire had been caused, or why Sir Percival had gone into the vestry. As no one could explain any of these things, the verdict at the end of the enquiry was 'death by accident'.

Afterwards, a gentleman who was also at the enquiry walked back to the hotel with me. He had heard from Sir Percival's lawyer that a distant relation abroad would now inherit Blackwater Park. This was obviously the person who should have inherited it twenty-three years before. If I made Sir Percival's crime public, it would be to no one's advantage now. If I kept the secret, the true character of the man who had cheated Laura into marrying him would remain hidden. And for her sake, I wished to keep it hidden.

I still could not leave Hampshire, as I had to report to the police station in Knowlesbury the next day. I spent another night at the hotel and in the morning went to the post office to collect the letter from Marian. As promised, we had written to each other every day, and Marian's letters had been full of cheerful news. This morning's letter was short, and terrified me.


Come back as soon as you can. We have had to move. Come to Gower's Walk, Fulham (number five). I will look out for you. Don't be alarmed about us, we are both safe and well. But come back. — Marian


What had happened? What dreadful thing had Count Fosco done while I was away? In spite of my anxiety, I had to wait. I paid my bill at the hotel and took a cab to Knowlesbury.

At the police station, as I expected, no one appeared to continue the action against me and I was allowed to go. Half an hour later I was on the train back to London.

I got to Gower's Walk in Fulham at about nine o'clock. Both Laura and Marian came to the door to let me in. Laura was much brighter and happier, full of plans for the future and for her drawing and painting. Marian's face was tired and anxious. I could see that she had spared Laura the knowledge of the terrible death in Welmingham and the true reason for moving to new lodgings. When Laura had left us and we could speak freely, I tried to give some expression to my feelings and told Marian how much I admired her for the courage and love she had shown.

She was too generous to listen to me, and turned the conversation to my worries.

'I'm so sorry for my letter — it must have alarmed you.'

'Yes, it did,' I admitted. 'Was I right in thinking that you moved because of a threat by Count Fosco?'

'Perfectly right,' she said. 'I saw him yesterday, and worse than that, Walter — I spoke to him.'

'Spoke to him? Did he come to the house?'

'He did. Yesterday, when I was passing the window, I saw him in the street. Then there was a knock on the door. I rushed out and there he was, dressed in black, with his smooth face and his deadly smile. I closed the door behind me so that Laura would not see or hear him.'

'What did he say?' I asked anxiously.

'He greeted me, then repeated the warning in his letter to me. He said he had not been able to prevent Sir Percival's violence towards you, and he had found out our address in order to protect his own interests. You were followed, Walter, on your return home after your first journey to Hampshire. He used this information only when he heard of Sir Percival's death, because he believed you would act against him next.'

'And he was right,' I said. 'What did he say about me?'

'He was very cool, very polite, and very threatening,' said Marian. 'He said, "Warn Mr Hartright! He has an intelligent and powerful man to deal with. Let him be content with what he has got. Say to him, if he attacks me, I will use all my power to destroy him. There is nothing I will not do. Dear lady, good morning." Then he just looked at me with his cold grey eyes, and walked away.

'I ran back inside, and told Laura we had to move. We needed a quieter neighbourhood with better air for the sake of her health. I said you'd wanted us to do that, and why didn't we do it now to surprise you when you got back. She liked that idea, and was quite happy to move. I found these lodgings through an old school friend. I did the right thing, didn't I, Walter?'

I answered her warmly and gratefully, as I really felt.

But the anxious look remained on her face, and I saw in her eyes her continuing fear of the Count's cleverness and energy.

'What do you think of his message, Walter? What do you plan to do next?'

'I decided weeks ago that Laura will be received in her uncle's house again,' I answered. 'And my decision remains the same. Count Fosco will answer for his crime to ME.'

Marian's eyes lit up. She said nothing, but I could see how strongly she supported this plan.

'I know the risks are great,' I said, 'but it must be done. I'm not foolish enough to try this before I'm well prepared. I can wait. Let him think his message has produced its effect. He will start to feel safe. Also, my position towards you and Laura ought to be a stronger one than it is now.'

'How can it be stronger?' she asked, surprised.

'Marian, I would like you to say to Laura, gently, that her husband is dead.'

'Oh, Walter, so soon? You have a reason for this, don't you?'

'Yes. I cannot speak to Laura yet. But one day, not too distant, I want to tell her that I love her.'

Marian looked at me for a time, then gave a sad, gentle smile. 'Yes, I understand. I think I owe it to her and to you, Walter, to tell her of her husband's death.'

The next day Laura knew that death had released her from her marriage, and her husband's name was never mentioned among us again.

*  *  *

Our life returned to its usual pattern, but I did not forget the Count. I discovered that he had rented his house in St John's Wood for another six months, so I was fairly sure he would still be in London, within my reach, when the time came to act.

We finally solved the puzzle of who Anne Catherick's father was. When I went again to see Mrs Clements and to tell her about Anne's death, she remembered where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Her employer had been a Mr Donthorne.

We wrote to Mr Donthorne, who replied with some very interesting information. Philip Fairlie, Laura's father, had been a great friend of his when they were young, and a frequent house guest. He was a handsome man and fond of female company. Mr Donthorne was fairly certain that Philip Fairlie had been staying at his house when Mrs Catherick was employed as a servant, in the year before Anne was born.

When Marian and I checked the dates; when we considered that Anne and Laura looked so alike; and when we took into account the fact that Laura looked very much like her father, we were in no doubt that here was the solution. Philip Fairlie was Anne's father, and so Anne was Laura's half-sister.

Now, at last, the woman in white, that strange sad shadow walking in the loneliness of the night, could rest in peace.

*  *  *

Four months passed. Laura grew stronger in body and in mind. She was almost her old self, and when we talked, it was as we used to talk at Limmeridge. If I touched her by accident, I felt my heart beating fast, and I saw the answering colour in her face.

In April, we went for a holiday at the seaside. While we were there I told Marian that when we returned to London, I was determined to force a confession from Count Fosco — to make him tell me the real date of Laura's journey to London.

'But if I am to challenge the Count, for Laura's safety, I think I should challenge him as her husband. Do you agree, Marian?'

'With every word,' she said. 'I parted you both once. Wait here, my brother, my best and dearest friend! Till Laura comes, and tells you what I have done now!'

She kissed my forehead and left the room. I waited by the window, staring out at the beach, seeing nothing, hardly able to breathe. The door opened, and Laura came in alone. When we parted at Limmeridge, she had come into the room slowly, in sorrow and hesitation. Now she ran to me, with the light of happiness shining in her face. She put her arms around me, and her sweet lips came to meet mine.

'My darling!' she whispered, 'May we say we love each other now? Oh, I am so happy at last!'

Ten days later we were even happier. We were married.


verdict n. a decision; a judgment 结论

spare somebody the knowledge of keeping somebody from knowing 不让某人知道……

deadly adj. horrible 可怕的

answer for be responsible 受到惩罚

fairly adv. to a noticeable degree 相当地

13.威胁

凯瑟里克太太奇怪而又不知羞耻的来信使我对她充满了鄙夷。现在,我对珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行已经没有兴趣了,但我还是决定留着这封信,也许它会帮我找出安妮的父亲究竟是谁。

上午晚些时候,我去参加珀西瓦尔爵士死亡的法律调查。他们只让我说说发生了什么,没有问我如何看待钥匙为什么会被拿走,火灾是怎么发生的,或者为什么珀西瓦尔爵士会进到法衣室去。没有人能够解释这些问题,所以调查的最终结论是“意外死亡”。

之后,一位也参加了调查的男子和我一起走回旅店。他从珀西瓦尔爵士的律师那里得知,一个国外的远亲现在要来继承布莱克沃特庄园。很明显,这就是23年前应该继承庄园的那个人。假如我把珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行公之于众,现在对谁都没有好处。假如我不把秘密说出去,这个欺骗劳拉与之结婚的人的真正人品就不会有人知道。但为了劳拉,我愿意保守这个秘密。

我还不能离开汉普郡,因为转天还要去诺雷斯伯里警察局。我在旅店又住了一晚。第二天一早,我去邮局取玛丽安的来信。我们按约定每天通信。玛丽安的来信一直都是好消息。今天早上的来信很短,但却令我害怕。


请尽快回来。我们不得不搬了家。到富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街(5号)来找我们。我也会留意等你。不必为我们担心,我们很安全。一定快回来。玛丽安


出了什么事?我不在的时候,福斯科伯爵又做了什么坏事?尽管非常担心,我还是得等。我付清了旅店的费用,叫了辆马车直奔诺雷斯伯里。

在警察局,不出我所料,没人来继续同我纠缠,我可以走了。半个小时后,我登上了返回伦敦的火车。

大约9点钟,我赶到了富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街。劳拉和玛丽安都到门口迎接我。劳拉的脸色比以前好多了,人也高兴多了,对将来和她的绘画有很多想法。玛丽安的脸上带着倦容和忧虑。看得出她没有把珀西瓦尔死在韦明翰的可怕消息和搬到新住处的真实原因告诉劳拉。劳拉走开以后,我们可以随便谈话了。我想告诉她我非常敬佩她的勇气和她对劳拉表现出的爱。

这位慷慨的姑娘没等我说完就把话题转到我的担忧上来了。

alt

“给你写那样的信,真是对不起——你一定很为我们担心吧。”

“是的,我的确很担心,”我说,“我猜你们搬家是由于福斯科伯爵的威胁,对吗?”

“一点儿不错,”她回答,“我昨天看见他了,更糟糕的是,沃尔特——我跟他说话了。”

“跟他说话了?他去你们的住处了?”

“是的。昨天,我从窗旁走过的时候,看见他在街上。过了一会儿,有人敲门。我马上跑过去开门,就是他,穿一身黑色衣服,光滑的脸上带着吓人的微笑。我关上了身后的门,这样劳拉就看不见他,也听不见他说话了。”

“他都说了什么?”我急切地问。

“他跟我打了招呼,然后再一次重复了他在信中对我的警告。他说他没能阻止珀西瓦尔爵士针对你的恶劣行为,他找到我们的住处是要保护他自己的利益。你第一次去汉普郡回来的时候就被跟踪了,沃尔特。他在听到珀西瓦尔爵士的死讯后才决定登门,因为他认为你下一个对付的目标就是他。”

“让他说对了,”我说,“他说我什么了?”

“他非常冷静而有礼,同时又非常具有威胁性,”玛丽安接着说,“他说,‘请警告哈特里特先生!他要对付的是一个有智慧、有权势的人。叫他对已经得到的东西知足吧。告诉他,如果他跟我对着干,我将不遗余力地干掉他。我会不择手段的。亲爱的小姐,再见。’然后,他用冷酷的灰眼睛看了看我,就走了。

“我赶忙跑进屋,跟劳拉说我们得搬家。为她的健康着想,我们需要一个更安静、空气更好的地方。我说你也希望我们搬家,为什么不现在就搬,等你回来给你一个惊喜呢。她喜欢这个主意,欢天喜地地同意了。我通过一个校友找到这个住处。我做得没错吧,沃尔特?”

我说她做得非常好,这是我的心里话。

但是,她脸上依然带着忧虑,从她的眼神里看得出,她还在害怕伯爵的精明和权势。

“沃尔特,你怎么看他的那些话?下一步你准备怎么做?”

“几星期前,我就决定让劳拉重新在她叔叔家得到应有的承认,”我回答,“现在我还是这样想的。我要让福斯科伯爵为他犯下的罪行付出代价。”

玛丽安的眼睛一亮,虽然没有说话,但是看得出她非常支持这个计划。

“我清楚这样做风险很大,”我说,“但这件事一定要做。我不会愚蠢到没做好准备就动手。我可以等。让他觉得他的话起了作用,认为已经平安无事了。另外,我跟你和劳拉的关系也该比现在更明确。”

“怎么个更明确法?”她吃惊地问。

“玛丽安,我希望你能心平气和地告诉劳拉,她丈夫已经死了。”

“噢,沃尔特,这么快就告诉她?你这样做是不是有什么原因?”

“是的,我现在还不能跟劳拉谈,但总有一天,不会太久,我会告诉她我爱她。”

玛丽安看了我一会儿,然后淡淡地、略带忧伤地笑了笑,“好吧,我明白。我想这是我欠你们的,沃尔特,我会把她丈夫的死讯告诉她。”

第二天,劳拉知道她丈夫死了,她也从这段婚姻中解脱了,那以后我们谁也没再提过她丈夫的名字。

*  *  *

我们的生活恢复了往常的模式,但是我没有忘记伯爵。我了解到他在圣约翰伍德的房子又续租了6个月,因此可以肯定,到了我采取行动的时候,他还会在伦敦,我还可以找到他。

我们终于弄清了安妮·凯瑟里克的父亲是谁。我又去见了克莱门茨太太,告诉她安妮已经死了。她记起凯瑟里克太太当仆人的地方。她的雇主姓多桑。

我们给多桑先生写信,他在回信中告诉我们一些非常有趣的信息。菲利普·费尔利,就是劳拉的父亲,年轻时和他是好友,也是他家里的常客。菲利普风流潇洒,喜欢女色。多桑先生非常肯定凯瑟里克太太在他家当仆人的那段时间,也就是安妮出生的前一年,菲利普·费尔利一直住在他家。

玛丽安和我算了算时间,我们想到安妮和劳拉如此地相像,想到劳拉如此地像她父亲,我们得到了非常肯定的答案。菲利普·费尔利是安妮的父亲,安妮和劳拉是同父异母的姐妹。

现在,那位白衣女人,那位在寂静深夜出现的古怪而哀伤的女人终于可以安息了。

*  *  *

四个月过去了,劳拉的身体渐渐强壮起来,头脑也慢慢清楚了。她几乎又是原来的她了。我们交谈的时候,感觉和当初在利默里奇谈话时一样。当我无意间碰到她的时候,我感到心跳在加速,而且我注意到她也脸红了。

4月,我们到海边度假。在那里,我告诉玛丽安,等回到伦敦,我一定要迫使福斯科伯爵说实话,让他说出劳拉回伦敦的真正日期。

“但是为了劳拉的安全,我想如果我挑战伯爵的话,最好以她丈夫的身份前去,你同意吗,玛丽安?”

“完全同意,”玛丽安说,“我曾让你们两个分开,你在这儿等我一下,我的好朋友!一会儿劳拉就过来,她会告诉你我这次是怎么做的,好吗?”

她吻了吻我的额头,走了出去。我在窗旁等着,眼睛望着海滩,却什么也看不到,我紧张得几乎喘不过气来。门开了,劳拉一个人走进来。我们在利默里奇分手的时候,她是慢慢地走进房间的,神情充满了痛苦和犹豫。这会儿,她跑向我,脸上闪耀着幸福的光芒。她张开手臂紧紧地拥抱我,用甜润的双唇吻着我。

“亲爱的!”她轻声说,“现在我们能对彼此说‘我爱你’了吧?啊,我终于得到幸福了!”

十天以后,我们的幸福又向前迈进了一步,我们结婚了。

14
The confession

A fortnight later, we returned to London, and I began to prepare for my battle with the Count. It was now early May and the rental agreement for his house ended in June. In my new happiness with Laura (to whom we never mentioned the Count's name), I was sometimes tempted to change my mind and to leave things as they were. But she still had dreams, terrible dreams that made her cry out in her sleep, and I knew I had to go on.

First, I tried to find out more about the Count. Marian told me that he had not been back to Italy for many years. Had he been obliged to leave Italy for political reasons, I wondered? But Marian also said that at Blackwater Park he had received official-looking letters with Italian stamps on, which would seem to contradict this idea. Perhaps he was a spy, I thought. That might explain why he had stayed in England so long after the successful completion of his plot. Who could I ask who might know something? Another Italian, perhaps — and I suddenly thought of my old friend, Professor Pesca.

Before I did that, I decided to have a look at the Count, as up to this time I had never once set eyes on him. So one morning I went to Forest Road, St John's Wood, and waited near his house. Eventually, he came out and I followed behind him as he walked towards the centre of London. Marian had prepared me for his enormous size and fashionable clothes, but not for the horrible freshness and cheerfulness and energy of the man.

Near Oxford Street he stopped to read a sign announcing an opera, and then went into the opera ticket office, which was nearby. I went over to read the sign. The opera was being performed that evening, and it seemed likely that the Count would be in the audience.

If I invite Pesca to the opera, I thought, I can point the Count out to him and find out if he knows him. So I bought two tickets myself, sent Pesca a note, and that evening called to take him with me to the opera.

The music had already started when we went in, and all the seats were filled. However, there was room to stand at the sides. I looked around and saw the Count sitting in a seat half-way down, so I placed myself exactly on a line with him, with Pesca standing at my side. When the first part finished, the audience, including the Count, rose to look about them.

When the Count was looking in our direction, I nudged Pesca with my elbow. 'You see that tall fat man? Do you know him?'

'No,' said Pesca. 'Is he famous? Why do you point him out?'

'Because I have a reason for wanting to know more about him. He's an Italian, and his name is Count Fosco. Do you know that name? Look — stand on this step so that you can see him better.'

A slim, fair-haired man, with a scar on his left cheek, was standing near us. I saw him look at Pesca, and then follow the direction of his eyes to the Count. Pesca repeated that he did not know him, and as he spoke, the Count looked our way again.

The eyes of the two Italians met.

In that second I was suddenly convinced that, while Pesca may not have known the Count, the Count certainly knew Pesca!

Not only knew him, but — more surprising still — feared him as well. The Count's face had frozen into a dreadful stillness, the cheeks as pale as death, the cold grey eyes staring in terror.

Nearby, the man with the scar also seemed to be watching with interest the effect that Pesca had had on the Count.

'How the fat man stares!' Pesca said, looking round at me. 'But I've never seen him before in my life.'

As Pesca looked away, the Count turned, moving quickly towards the back of the theatre, where the crowd was thickest. I caught Pesca's arm and, to his great surprise, hurried him with me after the Count. The slim man with the scar had apparently also decided to leave, and was already ahead of us. By the time Pesca and I reached the entrance, neither the Count nor the slim man was in sight.

'Pesca,' I said urgently, 'I must speak to you in private. May we go to your lodgings to talk?'

'What on earth is the matter?' cried Pesca.

I hurried him on without answering. The way the Count had left the theatre, his extraordinary anxiety to avoid Pesca, made me fear that he might go even further — and out of my reach.

In Pesca's lodgings, I explained everything as fast as I could, while Pesca stared at me in great confusion and amazement.

'He knows you — he's afraid of you. He left the theatre to escape you,' I said. 'There must be a reason, Pesca! Think of your own life before you came to England. You left Italy for political reasons. I don't ask what they were. But could that man's terror be connected with your past in some way?'

To my inexpressible surprise, these harmless words seemed to terrify Pesca. His face went white and he started to tremble.

'Walter!' he whispered. 'You don't know what you ask.'

I stared at him. 'Pesca, forgive me. I didn't mean to cause you pain. I spoke only because of what my wife has suffered from that man's cruel actions. You must forgive me.'

I rose to go. He stopped me before I reached the door.

'Wait,' he said. 'You saved my life once. You have a right to hear from me what you want to know, even though I could be killed for it. I only ask that, if you find the connection between my past and that man Fosco, you do not tell me.'

Then, his face still pale as the memories of the past crowded in on him, he told me the story.

'In my youth I belonged — and still belong — to a secret political society. Let's call it the Brotherhood, I can't tell you its real name. But I took too many risks and did something which put other members in danger. So I was ordered to go and live in England and to wait. I went — I have waited — I still wait. I could be called away tomorrow, or in ten years. I cannot know.

'The purpose of the Brotherhood is to fight for the rights of the people. There is a president in Italy, and presidents abroad. Each of these has his secretary. The presidents and secretaries know the members, but members don't know each other, until it's considered necessary. Every member of the Brotherhood is identified by a small round mark burnt into the skin, high up on the inside of their left arm.'

He rolled up his sleeve and showed me his own mark.

'If anyone betrays the Brotherhood,' he went on, 'he is a dead man. Another member, a distant stranger or a neighbour, will be ordered to kill him. No one can leave the society — ever.'

Pesca paused, then continued. 'In Italy I was chosen to be secretary. The members at that time were brought face to face with the president, and were also brought face to face with me. You understand me — I see it in your face. But tell me nothing, I beg you! Let me stay free of a responsibility which horrifies me.

'I do not know the man at the opera,' he said finally. 'If he knows me, he is so changed, or disguised, that I do not know him. Leave me now, Walter. I have said enough.'

'I thank you with all my heart, Pesca,' I said. 'You will never, never regret the trust you have placed in me.'

Walking home, my heart beat with excitement. Here at last, surely, was my weapon against the Count! I was convinced he was a member of the Brotherhood, had betrayed it, and believed that he had been recognized tonight. His life was now in danger. What else could explain his extreme terror at seeing Pesca?

And what would he do next? Leave London as fast as he could. If I went to his house and tried to stop him, he would not hesitate to kill me. To protect myself, I had to make his safety depend on mine. I hurried home and wrote this letter to Pesca:

The man at the opera, Fosco, is a member of your society and has betrayed it. Go instantly to his house at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. I am already dead. Use your power against him without delay.

I signed and dated the letter, and wrote on the envelope: Keep until nine o'clock tomorrow morning. If you do not hear from me before then, open the envelope and read the contents.

I then found a messenger, told him to deliver the letter and bring back a note from Professor Pesca to say he had received it. Twenty minutes later I had the note, and as I was leaving, Marian came to the door, looking anxious.

'It's tonight, isn't it?' she said. 'You're going to the Count.'

'Yes, it's the last chance, and the best.'

'Oh, Walter, not alone! Let me go with you. Don't go alone?'

'No, Marian. You must stay here and guard Laura for me. Then I will be easy in my mind when I face the Count.'

*  *  *

As I approached the Count's house, I passed the man with the scar on his cheek, whom I had noticed earlier at the opera. What was he doing here, I wondered?

I sent in my card, and I still do not know why the Count let me into his house at half past eleven at night. Was he just curious to see me? He would not have known that I was at the opera with Pesca, and I suppose he thought he had nothing to fear from me.

He was still in his evening suit, and there was a travelling case on the floor, with books, papers, and clothes all around him. My guess had been right.

'You come here on business, Mr Hartright?' he said, looking at me with curiosity. 'I cannot think what that might be.'

'You are obviously preparing for a journey,' I said. 'That is my business. I know why you are leaving London.'

'So you know why I am leaving London?' He went over to a table and opened a drawer.' Tell me the reason, if you please.'

'I can show you the reason,' I said. 'Roll up the sleeve on your left arm, and you will see it.'

His cold grey eyes stared into mine. There was a long heartbeat of silence. I was as certain as if I had seen it that he had a gun hidden in the drawer, and that my life hung by a thread.

'Wait a little,' I said. 'Before you act, I advise you to read this note.' Moving slowly and carefully, I passed him Pesca's note.

He read the lines aloud.

Your letter is received. If I don't hear from you before nine o'clock, I will open the envelope when the clock strikes.

Another man might have needed an explanation, but not the Count. His expression changed, and he closed the drawer.

'You are cleverer than I thought,' he said. 'I cannot leave before nine as I have to wait for a passport to be delivered. Your information may be true or may be false — where did you get it?'

'I refuse to tell you.'

'And that unsigned note you showed me — who wrote it?'

'A man whom you have every reason to fear.'

A pause. 'What do you want of me, Mr Hartright? Is it to do with a lady, perhaps?'

'Yes, my wife,' I answered.

He looked at me in real amazement, and I saw at once that he no longer considered me a dangerous man. He folded his arms and listened to me with a cold smile.

'You are guilty of a wicked crime,' I went on. 'But you can keep the money. All I want is a signed confession of the plot and a proof of the date my wife travelled to London.'

'Good!' he said. 'Those are your conditions; here are mine. One, Madame Fosco and I leave the house when we please and you do not try to stop us. Two, you wait here until my agent comes early tomorrow morning and you give him an order to get back your letter unopened. You then allow us half an hour to leave the house. Three, you agree to fight me at a place to be arranged later abroad. Do you accept my conditions — yes or no?'

His quick decision, his cleverness and force of character amazed me. For a second I hesitated. Should I let him escape? Yes, the evidence I needed to prove Laura's identity was far more important than revenge.

'I accept your conditions,' I said.

At once, he called for coffee and sat down to write. He wrote quickly for quite some time. Finally, he jumped up, declared that he had finished and read out his statement, which I accepted as satisfactory. He gave me the address of the company from whom he had hired the cab to collect Laura, and also gave me a letter signed by Sir Percival. It was dated 25th July, and announced the journey of Lady Glyde to London on 26th July. So there it was. On 25th July, the date of her death certificate in London, Laura was alive in Hampshire, about to make a journey the next day.

The Count then called in Madame Fosco to watch me while he slept. Early in the morning his agent arrived and I wrote a note for Pesca. An hour later, the agent returned with my unopened letter and the Count's passport.

'Remember the third condition!' the Count said as he left. 'You will hear from me, Mr Hartright.' Then he and the Countess got into the agent's cab with their bags and drove away, leaving the agent with me to make sure I did not follow.

As I watched them leave, another cab went by and I saw inside the man with the scar on his cheek. What was his business with the Count, I wondered? I had seen him too often now for it to be chance. Perhaps I had fought my own battle with the Count just in time. You cannot get a signed confession out of a dead man.

While I waited for the agreed half hour, I read the document that the Count had written for me.


Statement by Isidor Ottavio Baldassare Fosco

In the summer of 1850 I arrived in England on delicate political business and stayed with my friend, Sir Percival Glyde. We both urgently needed large amounts of money. The only person who had such money was his wife, from whom not a penny could be obtained until her death. To make matters worse, my friend had other private problems. A woman called Anne Catherick was hidden in the neighbourhood, was communicating with Lady Glyde, and knew a secret which could ruin him. And if he was ruined, what would happen to our financial interests?

The first thing to do was to find Anne Catherick, who, I was told, looked very much like Lady Glyde and who had escaped from a mad-house. I had the fantastic idea of changing the names, places and lives of Lady Glyde and Anne Catherick, the one with the other. The wonderful results of this change would be the gain of £ 30,000 and the keeping of Sir Percival's secret.

I found Anne Catherick and persuaded her and her friend to return to London. I rented a house in St John's Wood for myself, and obtained from Mr Fairlie in Limmeridge an invitation for Lady Glyde to visit. For my plan to work, it was necessary for Lady Glyde to leave Blackwater Park alone and stay a night at my house on her way to Limmeridge. This plan was made easier by Miss Halcombe's illness. I returned to Blackwater Park, and when Miss Halcombe was out of danger, I got rid of the doctor and instructed Sir Percival to get rid of the servants.

Next, we sent Mrs Michelson away for a few days, and one night Madame Fosco, Mrs Rubelle and I moved the sleeping Miss Halcombe to an unused part of the house. I left for London in the morning with my wife, leaving Sir Percival to persuade Lady Glyde that her sister had gone to Limmeridge and that she should follow her, breaking her journey in London at my house.

On 24th July, with my wife's help, I got hold of Anne Catherick, and took her to my house as Lady Glyde. However, when she saw no one she recognized, she screamed with fear and, to my horror, the shock to her weak heart caused her to collapse. By the end of the following day, she was dead. Dead on the 25th, and Lady Glyde was not due to arrive in London till the 26th!

It was too late to change the plan. I remained calm and carried on. On the 26th, leaving the false Lady Glyde dead in my house, I collected the true Lady Glyde from the railway station and took her to Mrs Rubelle's house. The two medical men I had hired (shall we say) were easily persuaded to certify the confused and frightened Lady Glyde as mentally ill. Then I gave her a drug and had Mrs Rubelle dress her in Anne Catherick's clothes. The next day, the 27th, she was delivered to the asylum, where she was received with great surprise, but without suspicion. The false Lady Glyde was buried at Limmeridge. I attended the funeral with suitable expressions of deep sympathy.

One final question remains. If Anne Catherick had not died when she did, what would I have done? I would, of course, have given her a happy release from the prison of life.


tempt v. to make someone want to have or do something 引诱

contradict v. be in conflict with 与……相矛盾

perform v. act 表演

nudge v. push gently 轻轻地碰

inexpressible adj. that can not be expressed 难以说清的

disguise v. alter the appearance so as to conceal the identity 伪装

curious adj. eager to learn; inquisitive 好奇的

aloud adv. audibly 出声地

agent n. a person who acts for another in business, politics etc. 代理人

delicate adj. tricky 微妙的

fantastic adj. wonderful 绝好的

14.认罪

两个星期之后,我们回到了伦敦。我开始准备与伯爵的较量。现在是5月初,他租房的期限到6月。享受着与劳拉新婚的幸福(我们从未跟她提起过伯爵),有时我忍不住想改变主意,让一切都过去。但是劳拉仍会做梦,可怕的噩梦,她常常在梦里惊叫起来,因此我明白必须继续原来的计划。

首先,我想尽量多了解一些伯爵的事。玛丽安告诉我,他已经很多年没有回意大利了。我想,他是不是由于政治原因被迫离开意大利的呢?但是玛丽安又说,在布莱克沃特庄园他好像收到过贴着意大利邮票的官方来信,这两者是互相矛盾的。也许他是间谍。这样可以解释为什么他在自己的阴谋得逞后,还在英国逗留那么久。有谁能告诉我答案呢?也许该再找个意大利人问问——猛然间我想到了老朋友,佩斯卡教授。

去见佩斯卡教授前,我决定先去看一下伯爵,因为到目前为止,我还从来没有见过他。于是一天早上,我去了圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特大街,在他的住处附近等他出现。最后,他终于出来了,朝伦敦市中心走去。我在后面跟着他。玛丽安跟我提过他身躯肥胖,衣着入时,但我没想到这个人那么精力旺盛,神采飞扬。

在牛津街附近,他停住脚步看一个歌剧的海报,然后走进了不远处的售票处。我过去看了一下海报,发现演出就在晚上,伯爵很可能会出现在观众当中。

我想假如邀请佩斯卡来看歌剧,就可以把伯爵指给他,看他是否认识。于是,我自己买了两张票,给佩斯卡写了封短信,晚上找他一起去看歌剧。

我们进入剧院的时候,音乐已经响起来了,剧场里座无虚席。不过剧场两边还有站的地方。我环顾四周,看到伯爵坐在前面几排的座位上,于是我也站到了那一排,佩斯卡站在我旁边。第一部分演出结束了,观众们,包括伯爵在内,都起身向周围张望。

在伯爵朝我们这个方向看的时候,我用臂肘碰了一下佩斯卡,“看见那个高大的胖子了吗?你认识他吗?”

“不认识,”佩斯卡回答,“他很有名吗?你为什么让我看他?”

“因为我需要更多地了解关于他的情况。他是意大利人,叫福斯科伯爵。你听说过这个名字吗?来,站这个台阶上,你会看得更清楚些。”

一个瘦瘦的金发男子站在我们的旁边,他的左脸上有一道疤。我注意到他看了看佩斯卡,又顺着佩斯卡的视线看了看伯爵。佩斯卡再一次对我说,他不认识那个人,就在他说话的时候,伯爵朝我们这边看过来。

这两个意大利人的目光相遇了。

那一瞬间,我敢肯定地说,佩斯卡可能不认识伯爵,但伯爵一定认识佩斯卡!

不仅是认识,更令人惊奇的是伯爵害怕佩斯卡。伯爵脸上的表情凝固了,像死人一样毫无血色,冷酷的灰眼睛恐惧地盯着这边。

脸上有疤的人似乎饶有兴趣地在一旁看着佩斯卡对伯爵的影响。

“那个胖子怎么那样看着我!”佩斯卡说,转过头看着我,“我从未见过他呀。”

佩斯卡扭头的时候,伯爵转身快步向剧场后边走去,那里人最多。我一把抓住佩斯卡的胳膊,不顾他的惊讶,拉着他紧追伯爵。那个脸上有疤的瘦子显然也准备离开剧场,并且已经走到了我们的前面。等我和佩斯卡赶到入口,伯爵和那个瘦子都已经不见了。

“佩斯卡,”我赶忙说,“我必须和你单独谈谈,我们到你的住处去谈可以吗?”

“这到底是怎么回事?”佩斯卡大声说。

我没回答,只是催着他赶紧走。伯爵离开剧场的样子,还有他迫不及待地要躲避佩斯卡,使我担心他可能会逃得更远——我可能再也找不到他了。

到了佩斯卡的住处,我以最快的速度向他讲述了事情的经过,他充满迷惑和惊讶地望着我。

他认识你——他很怕你。他离开剧场就是要逃避你,”我说,“这其中一定有原因,佩斯卡!回忆一下你来英国以前的经历。你是由于政治原因离开意大利的,我不是问你那些政治原因,不过那个人如此惊慌会不会同你的过去有什么关联?”

令我非常吃惊的是,这些本来无关紧要的话好像令佩斯卡非常惊恐。他的脸色变得煞白,身体开始颤抖。

“沃尔特!”他低声说,“你不知道你问了什么。”

我两眼紧盯着他,“佩斯卡,请原谅。我不是有意要给你带来痛苦,我说那些话只是因为那个人给我妻子带来了巨大的伤害。请你原谅我。”

我起身要离开,还没走到门口,他叫住了我。

“等一下,”他说,“你救过我的命,你有权从我这里知道你想要知道的东西,即使这会要了我的命。我唯一的请求是,即使你发现了我的过去同那个福斯科的关系,你也不要告诉我。”

接着,他开始讲他的经历,过去的记忆卷土重来,令他脸色煞白。

“我年轻的时候参加了一个秘密政治社团,现在还是它的成员。我们姑且叫它兄弟社团,我不能告诉你真实的名称。我当时完成了很多出生入死的任务,也做了一些给其他成员带来危险的事,所以社团命令我到英国待命。我服从命令来了英国——一直在等——现在还在等。我可能明天就被召回,也许是10年以后。我不知道。

“兄弟社团的宗旨是为人民争取权利。它在意大利有一个主席,国外有很多主席。每个主席都有秘书。主席和秘书认识所有的成员,但除非在必要的情况下,成员们彼此都不认识。每个兄弟社团成员的左臂内侧靠上的地方都有一个很小的圆形烙印,这是他们的记号。”

他卷起衣袖,给我看他自己的烙印。

“任何人背叛了兄弟社团,”他接着说,“他肯定会被处死。其他成员,也许是一个他不认识的陌生人,也许是他的邻居,会奉命杀死他。任何人不能退出社团——永远都不可以。”

佩斯卡停了一会儿又说:“在意大利,我被选为秘书,所有的成员那时都被带来见主席,当然也就见到了。你明白了我的意思——我从你的表情看出来了。但是,什么也别跟我说,求你了!我不想做我必须做的事,我感到害怕。

“我不认识剧场的那个人,”他最后说,“如果他认识,那他一定跟以前变化很大,或者伪装了自己,让我认不出来了。你现在走吧,沃尔特。我说得够多了。”

“我衷心地感谢你,佩斯卡,”我说,“你永远不会为信任我而后悔的。”

走在回家的路上,我的心情激动不已。我终于找到了对付伯爵的武器。我敢肯定他原来是一个兄弟社团成员,后来背叛了社团,他认为自己今晚被认出来了。现在他的生命很危险。不然他见到佩斯卡为什么那样害怕呢?

那他接着会做什么呢?尽快离开伦敦。如果我去他的住处拦住他,他肯定会毫不犹豫地杀了我。为保护我自己,我必须让他的生命安全地攥在我的手里。我赶忙回到家,给佩斯卡写了一封信:

剧场的那个人,福斯科,是你们社团的一个成员,他背叛了社团。赶快到他的住处圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特街5号。我已经死了。请用你的力量立即干掉他。

我签了名,写上日期,又在信封上写道:等到明天上午9点。如果到那时还没有我的消息,再打开信封读里面的内容。

然后,我找了一个信使,叫他把信送走并带回佩斯卡的回复,说他已经收到信了。20分钟后,我拿到了回复的纸条。我刚要离开,玛丽安出现在门口,脸上露出担忧的表情。

“就是今天晚上吗?”她说,“你要去找伯爵。”

“对,这是最后的机会,也是最好的机会。”

“噢,沃尔特,别一个人去!让我跟你去吧,不要一个人去!”

“不行,玛丽安。你必须留在这里替我保护劳拉。那样,我面对伯爵的时候才会放心。”

*  *  *

快到伯爵住处的时候,我碰见了脸上有疤的那个人,早些时候在剧场就见过他。他在这儿做什么,我心里很纳闷。

我把名片递进去,我到现在也不明白,为什么夜里11点半伯爵还让我进去。他对我好奇,想见我?他并不知道我和佩斯卡同在剧场,我猜想他觉得我没有什么好怕的。

他还穿着晚礼服,地上有一个旅行箱,他周围满是书籍、文件和衣服。我猜的没错。

“你来这里有事,哈特里特先生?”他一边说,一边用好奇的眼光打量我,“我想不出会是什么事。”

“你像是在准备出门旅行,”我说,“这就是我来的原因。我知道你为什么要离开伦敦。”

“你知道我为什么要离开伦敦?”他走到一张桌旁,打开抽屉,“如果你愿意,说说为什么。”

“我可以让你看看为什么,”我说,“把你左边的衣袖卷起,就能看到。”

他那冷酷的灰眼睛一动不动地盯着我。接下来是一阵令人紧张的寂静。我就像亲眼所见一样清楚,那抽屉里藏着枪,我现在命悬一线。

“等一下,”我说,“你动手之前,我建议你看看这个纸条。”我慢慢地、小心翼翼地把佩斯卡的纸条递给他。

他出声读着纸条。

你的信收到了。如果9点以前没有你的消息,9点整,钟一响我就打开信封。

假如换作另外一个人,可能需要一些解释,但伯爵不需要。他脸上的表情变了,他关上了抽屉。

“你比我想的要聪明,”他说,“我9点以前走不了,我得等人给我送护照来。你得到的信息可能是真的,也可能是假的。你是从哪儿知道的?”

“我不会告诉你的。”

“你给我的没有签名的纸条是谁写的?”

“一个你非常害怕的人。”

他停了一会儿,“你要我做什么,哈特里特先生?是不是跟一位女士有关?”

“是的,是我妻子。”我回答。

他非常吃惊地看着我。看得出他不再认为我会给他带来危险了。他双手交叉抱在胸前,面带冷笑听我继续说下去。

“你犯下了严重的罪行,”我接着说道,“但是,你可以留着你得到的钱。我只要一个由你签名的认罪书,还有我妻子回伦敦的日期证明。”

“好!”他说,“这是你的条件,我的条件是:第一,福斯科夫人和我在我们愿意的时候离开这里,你不要阻止我们。第二,你呆在这里,明天一早我的代理人过来,你让他取回那封还没有打开的信。然后,你要给我们半个小时的时间离开这里。第三,你答应跟我在国外找一个地方决斗。你接受我的条件吗——是还是否?”

他的迅速决断,他的精干和意志力令我震惊。我犹豫了一会儿。我应该让他逃走吗?是的,证明劳拉身份的证据比复仇重要得多。

“我接受你的条件。”我说。

他随即叫人拿来咖啡,坐下开始写。他落笔如飞,写了很长时间。最后,他站起来,说他已经写完了并念给我听。我觉得还满意。他给了我他租车接劳拉的那家公司的地址,同时给我的还有珀西瓦尔爵士签名的一封信。信的日期是7月25日,里面说格莱德夫人将于7月26日启程去伦敦。这就是证据。7月25日,即死亡证明上宣告劳拉死于伦敦的日子,劳拉还在汉普郡活着准备第二天的旅行。

然后,伯爵把福斯科夫人叫进来,让她看着我,他自己去睡觉。第二天一早,他的代理人来了,我给佩斯卡写了封短信。一个小时后,代理人拿着我那封没打开的信和护照回来了。

“别忘了第三个条件!”伯爵临走时说,“你会收到我的信的,哈特里特先生。”说完,他和伯爵夫人坐上代理人的马车离开了这里,代理人留下来,确保我不跟踪他们。

我看着他们离开,这时另一辆马车驶过去,车里坐着那个脸上有疤的人。他和伯爵有什么瓜葛?我看到他好几次了,不应该是巧合。或许我跟伯爵的较量正是时候。他要是死了,我就没法得到他签名的笔录了。

在约定的半小时里,我读了伯爵写给我的认罪书。

伊西多·奥塔维奥·鲍尔德塞尔·福斯科的证词

1850年夏天,由于微妙的政治原因我来到英国,同我的朋友珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士住在一起。我们两人都急需一大笔钱。唯一拥有这笔钱的人是他妻子,但是他妻子不死,我们一分钱也得不到。更糟糕的是,我的朋友又遇到了别的麻烦事。一个叫安妮·凯瑟里克的女人藏在我们附近,她在同格莱德夫人接触,并且掌握着一个可以毁掉珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。如果他完蛋了,那我们的经济利益怎么办呢?

我们要做的第一件事就是找到安妮·凯瑟里克。我了解到她的长相和格莱德夫人极为相似。她是从精神病院逃出来的。我突发奇想,把格莱德夫人同安妮·凯瑟里克的名字、住处、经历互换一下。互换的结果既可以让我们得到3万英镑,又能够保住珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。

我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,说服她和她的朋友回伦敦去。我自己在圣约翰伍德租了房子,同时从利默里奇的费尔利先生那里得到了邀请格莱德夫人去看望他的信。要实现我的计划,必须让格莱德夫人一个人离开布莱克沃特庄园,在去往利默里奇的途中在我家里住一夜。哈尔库姆小姐的病让我的计划更容易进行了。我回到布莱克沃特庄园,等哈尔库姆小姐一脱离危险,就辞退了医生,并且让珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了所有仆人。

下一步,我们让米切尔森太太离开庄园几天。一天晚上,福斯科夫人、鲁贝尔太太和我把昏睡中的哈尔库姆小姐抬到了一个没有人住的房间里。转天一早,我和夫人赶往伦敦,留下珀西瓦尔爵士劝说格莱德夫人,让她相信她姐姐已经去了利默里奇,她也应该去找她,途中在伦敦我的家休息。

7月24日,在我妻子的协助下,我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,把她带到我的住处,假装就是格莱德夫人。然而,当安妮·凯瑟里克看到没有一个她认识的人时,吓得叫了起来。令我非常害怕的是,惊吓使她脆弱的心脏无法承受,转天她就死了。她是25日死的,可是格莱德夫人26日才能到伦敦!

改变计划已经来不及了。我尽量保持头脑冷静,继续着原来的计划。26日,我把已死的假格莱德夫人留在家里,到车站去接真正的格莱德夫人,带她到鲁贝尔太太家。我雇用的(可以这样说)两个医生很容易就被说服了,他们证明迷惑而惊恐的格莱德夫人患了精神病。而后,我给她吃了镇静药,让鲁贝尔太太给她穿上安妮·凯瑟里克的衣服。第二天,也就是27日,格莱德夫人被送进精神病院,那里的人非常吃惊,但没有人怀疑。假格莱德夫人被埋葬在利默里奇。我出席了葬礼,表现出应有的悲伤与同情。

还有最后一个问题,如果安妮·凯瑟里克没有死的话,我会怎么办呢?我当然很高兴帮她摆脱牢笼般的人生。

15
The proof

When the half hour had passed, I returned home. After a brief explanation to Laura and Marian, I hurried back to St John's Wood to find the cab-driver whom the Count had hired to collect Laura at the station. He wrote me a statement, which he and a witness signed, saying that on 26th July 1850 he had driven a Count Fosco to the railway station where they had collected a Lady Glyde. He remembered Lady Glyde's name, he said, from the labels on her luggage.

Then I went to Mr Kyrle's office and presented him with the proof of Laura's identity — the letter from Sir Percival, the statement by the cab-driver, the confession by the Count, and the death certificate. Amazed, he congratulated me, and agreed to accompany us to Limmeridge the next day, where I intended to have Laura publicly received and recognized.

Early the next morning Laura, Marian, Mr Kyrle and I took the train to Limmeridge. Laura and Marian stayed at first in a hotel while Mr Kyrle and I went to the house to deal with Mr Fairlie. He complained like a child, saying how was he to know his niece was alive when he was told she was dead? Between us, the lawyer and I made him sign letters calling all those who had attended the false funeral to come to the house the next day.

As I led Laura into her childhood home the following morning, there was a murmur of surprise and interest from the waiting crowd of villagers and neighbours. The business was soon done. I read out the story of the plot against Laura, and Mr Kyrle announced that everything I had said was proved by the strongest evidence. I put my arm around Laura, raised her up, and called to the crowd:

'Are you all agreed that this is the Laura Fairlie you knew?'

'There she is, alive and well — God bless her!' It was an old man at the back of the room who began it, and in an instant everybody was shouting and cheering together.

Later, in the churchyard, we watched a stone worker remove Laura's name from the gravestone. In its place he put this:

ANNE CATHERICK

25TH JULY 1850

We returned to London the following day, happy in the thought that the long struggle was now over.

*  *  *

Several days later Pesca came to see me, and asked for a quiet word in my ear. He had just returned from Paris.

'I have news for you, my friend,' he said. 'You need not worry any more about the man at the opera. His body was found in the river Seine yesterday and now lies in the morgue in Paris. He was killed by knife wounds to the heart.'

'Count Fosco is dead?' I said, amazed. 'Are you sure?'

'I saw the body with my own eyes. He was wearing a French workman's clothes, and had a different name, of course, but he was the fat man we saw at the opera that night. No question.'

'But how do you know this?' I asked.

Pesca hesitated. 'A man brought me some information,' he said. 'I had to see the body, and send a report about it.'

'A man,' I said. 'What kind of man?'

'A stranger,' said Pesca. 'I didn't know him. A man with a scar on his left cheek.' He saw the understanding in my face, and held up his hand. 'No more questions, my friend. Please!'

We never spoke about it again, but I think Pesca was telling me that the Brotherhood had taken their revenge. And so Count Fosco, that extraordinary, evil man, passed from this world.

*  *  *

The following year our first child was born — a son. Six months later my newspaper sent me to Ireland and, when I returned, I found a note from my wife saying she and Marian and little Walter had gone to Limmeridge House. She begged me to follow as soon as possible. Very surprised, I caught the next train. When I got there, Marian and Laura told me Mr Fairlie was dead and that Mr Kyrle had advised them to go to Limmeridge House.

Laura came close to me and I half realized some great change was happening in our lives.

'Do you know who this is, Walter?' Marian asked, holding up my little son, with tears of happiness in her eyes. 'This is the boy who will one day inherit Limmeridge House.'

So she spoke. In writing those last words, I have written everything. Marian was the good friend of our lives — let Marian end our story.


label n. a small piece of paper, card etc. attached to an object and giving information about it 标签

congratulate v. express pleasure at the happiness or good fortune or excellence of a person 祝贺

morgue n. a room or building in which dead bodies may be kept until burial or cremation 停尸间

15.证据

alt

那半个小时过去了,我回到家里。简单地向劳拉和玛丽安说明了情况后,我立即赶回圣约翰伍德去找那个伯爵雇来到车站接劳拉的车夫。那人给我写了份证词,他和另一个证人都签了字。证词说,1850年7月26日他驾车送福斯科伯爵去车站,接了一位格莱德夫人。他说还记得格莱德夫人的名字,是在行李标签上看到的。

然后,我去了克尔先生的办公室,给他看了证明劳拉身份的证据——珀西瓦尔爵士的信、马车夫的证词、伯爵的认罪书和那份死亡证明。克尔先生很吃惊,接着向我表示祝贺并且答应第二天陪我们到利默里奇,我准备让人们公开地接受和认可劳拉。

转天的一大早,劳拉、玛丽安、克尔先生和我乘火车前往利默里奇。劳拉和玛丽安先在一家旅店里休息,克尔先生和我去庄园与费尔利先生交涉。费尔利先生像孩子一样抱怨说,有人告诉他他侄女死了,他怎么会知道他侄女还活着?在只有我们三个人的情况下,克尔先生和我让他在事先准备好的信上签字,邀请所有参加那场假葬礼的人第二天到费尔利家来。

第二天早晨,当我带着劳拉走进她儿时的家时,等候在那里的村民和邻居们发出惊奇的低语声。很快我们进入了正题。我大声宣读了针对劳拉的罪恶阴谋的全过程,克尔先生当众宣布我说的每一件事都证据确凿。我搂住劳拉,扶她起来,高声对众人说:

“你们说这是不是你们认识的劳拉·费尔利?”

“是她,她还好好地活着——上帝保佑她!”一位站在屋子后面的老人首先说,其他人也都立刻欢呼起来。

后来,在教堂墓地里,我们亲眼看着一位石匠把劳拉的名字从墓碑上凿去,在原来的地方刻上:

安妮·凯瑟里克

卒于1850年7月25日

转天,我们返回了伦敦,想到漫长的斗争终于结束了,我们都非常高兴。

*  *  *

过了几天,佩斯卡来看我,要跟我单独聊聊。他刚从巴黎回来。

“我有重要的消息要告诉你,我的朋友,”他说,“你不用再担心剧场里的那个人了,昨天在塞纳河发现了他的尸体,现在他的尸体停放在巴黎的停尸间。他是被人用刀子刺进心脏而死的。”

“福斯科伯爵已经死了?”我吃惊地问,“你能肯定吗?”

“我亲眼看了他的尸体,他穿着法国工人的制服,当然也换了名字,但他就是那天晚上我们在剧场见到的那个胖子。一点儿没错。”

“可你是怎么知道这个消息的呢?”我问。

佩斯卡犹豫了一下。“有人告诉我的,”他说,“我必须亲眼看到他的尸体,然后发一个报告。”

“有人,”我说,“是什么人?”

“一个陌生人,”佩斯卡回答,“我不认识那个人,他的左脸上有一道疤。”看到我脸上了然的表情,他抬了抬手,“请不要多问了,我的朋友!”

我们再没有提起这件事,不过我想佩斯卡是要告诉我兄弟社团已经采取了复仇行动。就这样,福斯科伯爵,那个能力不俗的恶徒从这个世界上消失了。

*  *  *

第二年,我们的第一个孩子出世了——是个儿子。6个月以后,我供职的那家报社派我去了爱尔兰。我回来的时候,看到妻子留给我的一封短信,信上说她和玛丽安还有小沃尔特去了利默里奇庄园。她让我尽快去找他们。我感到很惊讶,赶下一班火车去了那里。我到那儿之后,玛丽安和劳拉告诉我费尔利先生去世了,是克尔先生建议她们到利默里奇庄园去的。

劳拉走到我身边,我朦胧地意识到我们的生活将要发生什么大事。

“你知道这是谁吗,沃尔特?”玛丽安一边举起我的小儿子,一边问我,眼睛里充满了喜悦的泪水,“这个孩子将来有一天会继承利默里奇庄园。”

她就是这样说的。写完了最后几句话,我的讲述就到这里了。玛丽安是我们的终生好友——就让她结束我们的故事吧。

11.The investigation

PART THREE
THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
第三部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

9
The gravestone

On 13th October 1850 I left the wild forests of Central America and returned to England. I had escaped death by disease, death by war, and death by drowning, and hoped that these experiences had strengthened me to face my future — a future without Laura Fairlie. I still remembered her as Laura Fairlie, and could not think of her by her husband's name.

The first thing I did was to visit my mother and sister in their Hampstead cottage. The joy of our meeting, however, soon turned to sadness. I have no secrets from my mother, and when I saw the loving pity in her eyes, I feared the worst.

The news was soon told. I tried hard not to let my sorrow spoil the happiness of my return for my mother and sister, but by the third day I knew I had to go away alone for a while.

'Let me go up to Limmeridge,' I begged my mother. 'I can bear it better when I have seen her grave.'

It was a warm autumn afternoon when I arrived at the station and walked down the familiar road, seeing in the distance the high white walls of Limmeridge House. In the churchyard I found the grave and knelt down beside the gravestone, closing my eyes.

Oh my love! My Love! My dear, dear Love!

Hours passed, and the evening sunlight threw long shadows among the sleeping places of the dead. I had lost all sense of time, kneeling there. Then, in the silence, I heard the soft sound of footsteps on the grass.

I looked up.

Beyond me, standing together by the churchyard wall, were two women, their veils down, hiding their faces. They were looking towards the grave, looking towards me.

Two.

They came closer, and stopped. One of them lifted her veil, and in the still evening light I saw the face of Marian Halcombe. A changed face. Thin and pale, full of pain and fear.

The woman with the veiled face came towards me slowly. Marian Halcombe sank to her knees, murmuring, 'Oh God, help him! Please, please help him, God!'

The veiled woman came on, slowly and silently. I looked at her — at her, and at no one else, from that moment. She had possession of me, body and soul. She stopped by the side of the gravestone, and we stood face to face with the grave between us.

'Oh God, help him, help him!'

The woman lifted her veil.

In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde...

Laura, Lady Glyde, was standing by the gravestone, looking at me over her grave.

*  *  *

A life suddenly changed. A new future before me, like the sunlit view from a mountain top. I leave my story in the quiet shadow of Limmeridge church, and begin again, one week later, in the noise and rush of a London street.

I have rented rooms under a different name. Marian and Laura, using the same name, are said to be my sisters. I earn our bread by doing drawings for cheap magazines. We employ no servant; my elder sister, Marian, does the housework with her own hands. Marian and I are known to be the friends of mad Anne Catherick (address unknown), who falsely claims the identity of Lady Glyde. To the rest of the world, Laura, Lady Glyde, is dead. Dead to her uncle, who has refused to recognize her; dead to the lawyers, who have passed her fortune to her husband and aunt.

But to Marian and me she is alive! Penniless and sadly changed — her beauty faded, her mind confused — but alive, with her poor drawing teacher to fight her battles and to win her way back to the world of living beings. She is mine at last — mine to support, to protect, to defend. And mine to love.


drown v. to kill by submerging and suffocating in liquid 淹死;溺死

strengthen v. make stronger 变得坚强

veil n. a piece of fabric attached to a woman's hat 面纱

earn one's bread earn one's living 维持生计

penniless adj. having no money 身无分文的

9.墓碑

1850年10月13日我离开中美洲的原始森林,回到了英国。我一次次逃过疾病、战争和洪水带来的死亡危险。我希望这些经历能够使我更加坚强地面对未来——没有劳拉的未来。在我心里她依然是劳拉·费尔利,我无法把她冠以她丈夫的姓氏。

我回来后的第一件事是到汉普斯特德看望母亲和妹妹。欢聚的快乐很快转化为悲伤。我没有任何秘密瞒着母亲,从她充满爱怜和同情的眼光里,我预感到最坏的事情发生了。

她们把消息告诉了我。我尽最大努力不让自己的悲哀破坏我回家带给母亲和妹妹的喜悦。但是,回来的第三天,我觉得必须一个人离开一段时间。

“让我到利默里奇去一趟吧,”我恳求着母亲,“看到她的坟墓,我可以更好地接受这一切。”

那是一个秋日的午后,天气很暖和,我到达目的地车站,走在熟悉的大路上,望着远处利默里奇庄园的白色高墙。在教堂墓地里,我找到了劳拉的墓,在她的墓碑前跪下来,闭上了双眼。

我的爱人我的爱人我最亲爱的人

几个小时过去了,落日的余辉在死者的安息地投下长长的影子。我跪在那里,完全没有了时间概念。这时,寂静中传来人走在草地上的脚步声。

我抬起头来。

不远处,教堂墓地的围墙边站着两个女人,面纱遮住了她们的脸。她们正朝墓地张望,正朝张望。

两个女人。

她们朝我走来。其中一个掀起了面纱,借着仅有的一点儿光线,我看出那是玛丽安·哈尔库姆小姐。她的脸变得跟从前不一样了:清瘦而苍白,充满了痛苦和恐惧。

头戴面纱的女人缓慢地向我走来。玛丽安·哈尔库姆跪下来,轻声说:“噢,上帝,帮帮他吧,帮帮他吧,上帝!”

头戴面纱的女人向我走来,缓慢地,无言地向我走来。我注视着她——目不转睛地久久注视着她。她占据了我的一切,我的灵魂和肉体。她在墓碑前停住脚步,我们隔着坟墓互相注视着。

“噢,上帝,帮帮他,帮帮他吧!”

那个女人掀起了面纱。

爱妻劳拉·格莱德夫人之墓……

劳拉·格莱德夫人,她就站在墓碑旁,隔着坟墓望着我。

alt

*  *  *

生活突然间变了。一个崭新的未来展现在我的面前,就像在山顶上看到的撒满阳光的景色。我把过去的故事留在了利默里奇教堂那寂静的阴影中,一星期后在喧闹、繁忙的伦敦开始了新的生活。

我换了一个姓氏租了房子。玛丽安和劳拉也用同样的姓氏,对外人就说是我的姐妹。我靠给廉价杂志画画维持生计。我们没有请仆人,我的姐姐,玛丽安亲自做家务。我和玛丽安对外就说是疯女人安妮·凯瑟里克(住址不详)的朋友,那疯女人总说自己是格莱德夫人。对世界上其他人来说,劳拉·格莱德夫人已经死了;对拒不承认她的叔叔,她已经死了;对把她的财产转给她丈夫和姑妈的律师,她也已经死了。

但是对于玛丽安和我,她还活着!她身无分文,人也变了——她的美丽在消逝,头脑一片混乱——但她还活着,她那可怜的绘画教师要为她奋争,使她重新回到真实的生活中来。她终于属于我了——由我供养、呵护、保护,由我所爱。

10
The rescue

At the first opportunity we had, Marian told me everything that had happened to her and Laura. The hardest part for her was after she had returned to Limmeridge House.

'I was in despair, Walter,' she said. 'Mr Kyrle's investigation was finished, and had shown nothing, he said. Mr Fairlie was no help at all — I heard that he didn't even leave his room to go to the funeral! But he did show me a letter he'd received from Count Fosco, which contained news of Anne Catherick. The Count said that Anne Catherick had been found and put back in the asylum from which she had escaped. But because she hated Sir Percival and wanted to make trouble for him, she was now claiming that she was not Anne Catherick at all, but Lady Glyde. The Count warned Mr Fairlie that if she escaped again, she might try to annoy members of Lady Glyde's family.

'I wasn't well enough to do anything for about a month after returning to Limmeridge, but when I felt stronger, I decided to make some investigations myself. First, I planned to visit the asylum in London and talk to poor Anne Catherick, to find out why she was claiming to be Laura. I knew the address because you had given it to me, all those months ago.

'Well, Walter, you can guess what's coming, I'm sure. The director of the asylum, who seemed an honest person, told me that Anne Catherick had been brought back on 27th July. He was puzzled by some odd personal changes in her, but assumed they were caused by her mental illness. He then called a nurse to take me to Anne Catherick, who was walking in the gardens.

'Imagine the shock, Walter — seeing my dead sister walking towards me in that garden! We just ran into each other's arms, unable to say a word. How the nurse stared at us!'

'I think I know how you must have felt,' I said. 'I shall never forget in the churchyard at Limmeridge... But tell me, however did you get Laura out of the asylum?'

'Bribery, Walter. I didn't want to risk a legal battle and all the delay that would involve, so I persuaded the nurse that a terrible mistake had been made and she would be doing a good thing in helping Anne Catherick escape. And I offered her £400. The plan went smoothly, and by early afternoon the next day Laura and I were on the train to Cumberland.'

'And Laura?' I asked. 'What actually happened on the day she left Blackwater Park and came to London?'

Marian sighed. 'Oh, Walter, it's not at all clear. Poor Laura's mind is so confused now that her memory of events is very unreliable. She can't even remember the date she left Blackwater. All she has been able to tell me is this. The Count met her at the station, and said that I was still in London and that he would take her to see me at once. She doesn't remember where the cab went, but it was clearly not to his house in St John's Wood. She was taken to a house in a narrow street, where people came and went, asking her questions she didn't understand. At this point the Count told her I was now very ill; she was so frightened by this news she nearly fainted. Someone then gave her a glass of water, which she said tasted odd — and after that she lost consciousness.'

'Poor, poor Laura,' I murmured.

'She woke up,' Marian continued, 'in the asylum, unable to leave, unable to make contact with the outside world. She was called by Anne Catherick's name and found she was wearing clothes with Anne Catherick's name on them. She was told Lady Glyde was dead and buried, and that she was Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick... Day in, day out, from 27th July to 15th October, she was made to feel that she was mad. It's hardly surprising her mind is so confused now.'

'And what happened at Limmeridge?' I asked.

Marian turned her face away. 'I can't bear to think about it,' she said. 'The worst part was taking Laura into Mr Fairlie's room. He looked straight into Laura's face and said, "My niece is buried in Limmeridge churchyard. I don't recognize this woman. Remove her from my house before I call on the law to protect me." Even the servants were doubtful about her identity, because she was so much changed and so confused by her experiences. Perhaps people would have been persuaded if we'd stayed longer, but I didn't dare risk it. At any minute the people from the asylum might come looking for us, so I decided to return to London at once and hide. Then, as we were passing the churchyard, Laura insisted on a last look at her mother's grave. And... well, that moment changed our three lives.'

'I think God was guiding Laura's footsteps,' I said.

How well I remember that day — that moment when Laura laid her poor head innocently and trustingly on my shoulder, and said, 'They have tried to make me forget everything, Walter, but I remember Marian, and I remember you.'

*  *  *

The plot against Laura was now clear. Anne Catherick had been taken into Count Fosco's house as Lady Glyde, and Lady Glyde had taken the dead woman's place in the asylum. It was also clear that the three of us could expect no mercy from Count Fosco and Sir Percival, who between them had gained £30,000 from the plot. They would do everything in their power to prevent their crime being discovered, and would hunt for their victim to separate her from her only friends — Marian and myself. This is why I had chosen a poor and crowded part of London to live in. It is easier to hide in a place where people are always coming and going.

Our life quickly took on a regular pattern — work, watching out for our enemies, and care of Laura, whom we surrounded with a gentle, protective love, helping her slowly but steadily to recover her balance of mind and her self-confidence.

Meanwhile, Marian and I began the battle. We studied the statements that Mr Kyrle had taken from witnesses — the doctor, and the servants and cook in Count Fosco's house. I obtained a copy of Lady Glyde's death certificate, and Marian wrote to Mrs Michelson, who replied, saying that she could not remember the exact date of Laura's departure from Blackwater Park. Nor could she remember when the letter announcing Laura's death, which was undated, had arrived from Madame Fosco.

I also arranged to visit Mr Kyrle, to ask for his help. After listening to my long explanation, the lawyer shook his head.

'My legal opinion, Mr Hartright, is that you won't win this case in a court of law. I accept, of course, that the identity of Lady Glyde as a living person is a proved fact to Miss Halcombe and yourself. But there is no evidence. If you could prove that the date on the death certificate was earlier than the date of Lady Glyde's journey to London, then you might have a case.'

As I left, he gave me a letter that had been delivered to him for Marian, and told me, in answer to my question, that Sir Percival Glyde had returned to London.

Outside in the street I soon noticed two men following me, and realized too late that the Count's spies must have been watching the lawyer's office, in the hope that Marian or I would go there. I went home by a very long route and managed to lose them, but it was a warning to me to be more careful.

Marian was very worried when I told her about the two men. Then I gave her the letter. She recognized the writing instantly.

'It's from Count Fosco.'


Dear and admirable woman, do not be afraid! Stay hidden, with your gentle companion, and nothing will happen to you. Challenge nothing, threaten nobody. Do not, I beg you, force me into action. If Mr Hartright returns to England, do not speak to him. If he crosses my path, he is a Lost man. F.


'Walter!' Marian said, her eyes flashing with anger. 'If ever the Count and Sir Percival are at your mercy and you must spare one of them, don't let it be the Count.'

'I'll keep this letter to remind me when the time comes,' I said. 'But tomorrow I will go to Blackwater, to try and find out the date of Laura's journey to London. It's the one weak point in their plot.'

'You mean that perhaps Laura did not leave for London until after the date on the death certificate?'

'Exactly. I think she left on 26th July. The Director of the asylum said she was taken there on the 27th. I doubt if they could have kept her drugged more than one night. We know from Mrs Michelson that Sir Percival left on the same day as Laura. I'll ask everyone in the village if they remember when he left.'

'And if that fails?'

'If that fails, Marian, I'll force a confession from Sir Percival. We have one weapon against him — his secret. Anne Catherick said that if his secret was known, it would ruin him. I intend to find out that secret. The woman in white, though dead in her grave, is still with us and is showing us the way!'


bribery n. persuading a person to act in one's favor by a gift of money or services 贿赂

unreliable adj. not liable 不可靠的

plot n. a conspiracy or secret plan esp. to achieve an unlawful end 阴谋

mercy n. kindness, pity, and willingness to forgive 仁慈

cross one's path meet sb by chance 与…偶然相遇

flash v. burst 闪烁

10.营救

我们刚一有机会交谈,玛丽安就把她和劳拉的遭遇从头到尾讲给我听。最令她难过的是回到利默里奇之后的经历。

“我太绝望了,沃尔特,”她说,“克尔先生的调查结束了,他说什么也没发现。费尔利先生一点儿忙也不帮——我听说他甚至都没离开他的房间去参加葬礼!不过他倒是把福斯科伯爵的信给了我,信里面有安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。伯爵说安妮·凯瑟里克已经找到了,被送回了原来的精神病院。但是,凯瑟里克因为痛恨珀西瓦尔爵士,想给他找麻烦,所以她现在自称不是安妮·凯瑟里克,而是格莱德夫人。伯爵提醒费尔利先生,假如她再逃出来,很可能要给格莱德夫人的家人添乱子。

“回来的头一个月,我身体虚弱,什么也干不了。后来身体恢复了,我决定亲自去调查。首先,我准备去伦敦的精神病院找可怜的安妮·凯瑟里克谈谈,弄清楚为什么她要自称是劳拉。我知道地址,是你几个月前给我的。

“噢,沃尔特,我相信你能猜到接下来发生的事情。精神病院的院长看上去是个正直的人,他告诉我,安妮·凯瑟里克是7月27日被送回来的。他对凯瑟里克身上的变化感到很困惑,但他推测是由于精神方面的疾病造成的。然后,他叫一名护士带我去见安妮·凯瑟里克,她正在花园散步。

“想象一下,当时我有多么震惊,沃尔特——我看到自己死去的妹妹在花园里朝我走来!我们跑向对方,紧紧地抱在一起,一句话也说不出来。护士不解地望着我们。”

“我很清楚你当时的心情,”我说,“我永远不会忘记在利默里奇教堂墓地……可是,你是怎么把劳拉救出精神病院的呢?”

“贿赂,沃尔特。我不想打官司,那样太冒险,也会耽误很长时间。所以,我对护士说,这里一定有严重的误会,如果她能帮助安妮·凯瑟里克逃走,就做了一件天大的好事。之后,我给了她400英镑。计划进行得很顺利,第二天刚过中午,我和劳拉就乘上了开往坎伯兰郡的火车。”

“那么,劳拉呢?”我问,“她离开布莱克沃特庄园到伦敦后,到底发生了什么?”

玛丽安叹了口气,“噢,沃尔特,现在还不清楚。可怜的劳拉思维很乱,她的记忆不可靠。她连离开布莱克沃特的日期都记不起来。她能告诉我的就是,伯爵在车站接她,告诉她我还在伦敦,他要带劳拉马上去见我。她不记得车往哪里走了,但是很明显不是去伯爵在圣约翰伍德的家。她被带进一条小巷里的一间房子,那里人来人往,问一些她听不懂的问题。这时,伯爵告诉她我病得很严重,她听了非常害怕,几乎昏了过去。接着有人给了她一杯水,她说水的味道很怪,之后她就失去了知觉。”

“可怜的劳拉。”我低声自语着。

“她醒来以后,”玛丽安接着说,“发现自己在精神病院里,既不能离开,也无法同外界接触。别人叫她安妮·凯瑟里克,她发现自己穿着有安妮·凯瑟里克名字的衣服。别人告诉她格莱德夫人已经死了,被安葬了,她就是安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克……一天又一天,从7月27日到10月15日,他们强迫她认为自己疯了。难怪现在她思维混乱。”

“在利默里奇发生了什么?”我问道。

玛丽安把头转向一侧。“我简直不忍心想在那儿发生的事情。”她回答,“最糟的就是我带劳拉走进费尔利先生的房间后,他紧盯着劳拉的脸说:‘我侄女已经埋在利默里奇教堂墓地了。我不认识这个女人。赶快带她出去,不然我要用法律来保护自己了。’仆人们也对劳拉的身份很怀疑,因为她变化太大了,她的经历也让她思绪异常混乱。也许我们逗留的时间长一些,大家会被说服,但是我不想冒这个险,因为精神病院的人随时都会来找我们,所以我决定马上回伦敦躲起来。当我们经过教堂的时候,劳拉坚持要最后再看一眼她母亲的坟墓。后来……嗯,那一刻改变了我们三个人的生活。”

“我想是上帝在引导着劳拉的脚步。”我说。

我清楚地记得那天——可怜的劳拉将头依偎在我的肩头,充满了纯洁与信任。她说:“他们想叫我忘掉一切,沃尔特,但我还记得玛丽安,我还记得。”

*  *  *

针对劳拉的阴谋现在已经清楚了。安妮·凯瑟里克被当作格莱德夫人带进了福斯科伯爵的家里,格莱德夫人在精神病院里取代了那个已经死了的女人的位置。还有一点也很明显,福斯科伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士是不会放过我们三个的。他们两人从这个阴谋中得到30,000英镑。他们会尽一切可能不让他们的罪行败露,也会极力追寻他们所陷害的人,并把她同她的朋友们——玛丽安和我——分开。这就是为什么我选择伦敦一处既贫穷又拥挤的地方住下来,因为在一个人来人往的地方比较容易躲藏。

我们的生活很快形成了一个较为固定的模式——工作,留意我们的敌人,照顾劳拉。我们细心地照顾她,保护她,帮助她慢慢地恢复正常的思维和自信心。

与此同时,玛丽安和我开始了紧张的调查。我们仔细研究克尔先生记录的证词——分别来自医生以及伯爵家的仆人和厨师。我弄到了一份格莱德夫人的死亡证明。玛丽安给米切尔森太太写信,米切尔森太太回信说记不清劳拉离开布莱克沃特庄园的确切日期了,也记不清福斯科夫人来信通知他们劳拉死讯的具体时间了,那封信没有注明日期。

我还安排与克尔先生见面,请求他的帮助。听我把前因后果一一讲完后,克尔先生摇了摇头。

“作为律师,哈特里特先生,我认为你不会赢得这场官司。当然我同意,你和哈尔库姆小姐可以证明格莱德夫人还活着,但是你没有证据。如果你能证明死亡证明上的时间比格莱德夫人去伦敦的时间,那你可能会赢这场官司。”

我要离开的时候,他交给我一封信,是要他转给玛丽安的。同时,他在回答我的提问时透露,珀西瓦尔爵士已经回到伦敦了。

在外面的街道上,我很快注意到有两个人在跟踪我。我这才意识到伯爵的人肯定一直在监视克尔先生的办公室,以防玛丽安和我会到那儿去。我绕远路回家,设法甩掉了跟踪我的人,但是这件事提醒我今后要更加小心。

我把两个人跟踪我的事告诉了玛丽安,她非常担心。我把那封信交给她,她马上就认出了写信人的笔迹。

“是福斯科伯爵写的。”


亲爱的、尊敬的女士,请不要害怕!继续同你温柔的伙伴藏好,你们就不会有事。不要试图做任何事情,不要给任何人带来威胁。我请求你们,不要强迫我采取行动。如果哈特里特先生回英国来,不要同他接触。假如他找我的麻烦,他就死定了。福斯科。


“沃尔特!”玛丽安眼里闪着愤怒的光,“如果伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士落到你的手里,而你又必须放过他们中的一个的话,一定不要放过伯爵。”

“我要留着这封信,让它到时候提醒我应该怎么做,”我说,“明天我要去一趟布莱克沃特,查一查劳拉去伦敦的日期。这是他们阴谋中的一个漏洞。”

“你是说劳拉可能是在死亡证明上的日期之后才去伦敦的?”

“没错。我想她是7月26日动身的。精神病院的院长说她是27日被送进去的。我怀疑他们是否能让劳拉昏迷超过一晚上的时间。米切尔森太太说,珀西瓦尔爵士是和劳拉同一天离开的。我要问村里的每一个人,是不是还记得珀西瓦尔爵士什么时候离开的。”

“如果这样不行呢?”

“如果不行的话,玛丽安,我就逼珀西瓦尔爵士认罪。我们用他的秘密对付他,安妮·凯瑟里克说如果他的秘密让人知道了,那他就完了。我想查出他的秘密来。那个白衣女人虽说已经死了,但是还同我们在一起,她会为我们引路的!”

11
The investigation

The story of my first enquiries in Hampshire is soon told. Not a single person in the village of Blackwater could remember exactly when Sir Percival Glyde had left. Even the gardener at the house could only say it was some time in the last ten days of July.

'So, on to the next plan,' I said to Marian back in London, 'which is to pursue the secret. I need to talk to Anne Catherick's mother, but first I must find out something about her from Mrs Clements, Anne's friend. But how do I find Mrs Clements?'

Marian had the answer to that. 'You remember the farm she and Anne stayed at near Limmeridge? We'll write to them — they might know Mrs Clements' address.'

We were lucky. The farmer's wife did know the address, and wrote back by return to tell us. It was in London, not far from our rooms, and the next morning I was knocking at the door.

Mrs Clements was anxious to know if I had brought her any news of Anne, and very sad to learn that I had not. However, she was willing to tell me everything she knew.

'After leaving Limmeridge, sir,' she said, 'Anne and I went to live in the northeast of England, and that's when Anne started to suffer from heart disease. She wasn't at all well, but she insisted on travelling to Hampshire, because she wanted to speak to Lady Glyde. So we went there and stayed in a village near Blackwater — not too close as Anne was so frightened of Sir Percival.

'Each time Anne went to the lake to try to speak to Lady Glyde, I followed her at a distance. But the long walks made her so exhausted that she became ill again, so finally I went to the lake in her place to meet Lady Glyde. She didn't come that day, but a very fat man came instead with a message from her. The message was that we should return to London immediately, as Sir Percival would certainly find us if we stayed longer. Lady Glyde was going to London herself very soon and if we sent her our address, she would contact us.'

'But she didn't, did she?' I said, thinking how cleverly Count Fosco had lied to this kind woman.

'No, sir. I found lodgings and sent the address to Lady Glyde, but after two weeks we'd still heard nothing. Then one day a lady called in a cab. She said she came from Lady Glyde, who was staying at a hotel and wanted to arrange an interview with Anne. I agreed to go with this lady to make the arrangement, leaving Anne alone in our lodgings. But it was a wicked plot, sir. On the way the lady stopped the cab, saying she just had to collect something from a shop and would I wait for a few minutes. She never came back, sir. I waited for some time, and then I hurried home — and found Anne gone. Just disappeared.'

I asked Mrs Clements to describe this 'lady', and it seemed clear from her description that it was Madame Fosco. So I now knew how the Count had got Anne Catherick to London and separated her from Mrs Clements.

'I never found out what happened to Anne,' Mrs Clements said sadly. 'I made enquiries. I even wrote to her mother, but she didn't know anything. I miss poor Anne so much. She was like a daughter to me, you see, sir.'

'And I'm sure you were a kind mother to her,' I said. 'A better mother than her own mother.'

'That wasn't difficult,' said Mrs Clements. 'Mrs Catherick is a hard woman. She seemed to hate the child, and was only too pleased when I offered to bring her up. Then one day she took Anne to Limmeridge to stay with a sister, and after that she kept Anne from me. I didn't see Anne again till she escaped from the asylum — with your help, sir. And then she was always talking about a secret her mother had which could ruin Sir Percival. But you know, sir, I don't think Anne really knew what this secret was. If she had known, I'm sure she would have told me.'

I had wondered about that myself, and now I tried to turn the conversation on to Mrs Catherick.

'Did you know Mrs Catherick before Anne was born?'

'Yes, for about four months. We were neighbours in Welmingham. Mr and Mrs Catherick had just got married, and Mr Catherick had a job as clerk at Welmingham church. Before that, Mrs Catherick had been a servant at a large house. She was a selfish, heartless woman, and treated her poor husband very badly. Before long, there was a lot of talk about her and a young gentleman, who was staying at a hotel nearby. And Mr Catherick told my husband that he'd found expensive presents, gold rings and suchlike, hidden in his wife's drawer.'

'And who was this gentleman?' I asked.

'You know him, sir. And so did my poor dear Anne.'

'Sir Percival Glyde?' My heart began to beat faster. Was I getting close to the secret?

'That's right. His father had recently died abroad, and Sir Percival had just arrived in the neighbourhood. People thought, you see, that maybe Mrs Catherick had known Sir Percival before, and had married Mr Catherick just to save her reputation, because of, well, you know... Anyway, one night Mr Catherick found his wife whispering with Sir Percival outside the vestry of the church. They had a fight, but Sir Percival beat him and Mr Catherick left the village, never to return again. And in spite of all the talk in the village, Mrs Catherick stayed. She said she was innocent and that no one would drive her away. But most people thought that the money she lived on came from Sir Percival.'

The secret was here somewhere. But where? That Sir Percival was Anne's father was hardly a secret since everyone already thought that. No, there was another mystery somewhere.

'And what did you think, Mrs Clements?'

'Well, sir, if you worked out time and place, it was obvious that Mr Catherick wasn't Anne's father. But Anne wasn't at all like Sir Percival; and nor was she like her mother.'

I wondered about the house where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Perhaps I would make some enquiries later.

'You've been very kind, Mrs Clements,' I said, 'answering all my questions. One last request. Will you tell me Mrs Catherick's address? I have to find out this secret, and only she can tell me.'

Mrs Clements gave me the address, but shook her head. 'Take care, sir. She's an awful woman. You don't know her as I do.'

*  *  *

Back at our rooms I announced my intention to Marian of going to Welmingham. She was very uneasy about the plan.

'Are you sure it's wise, Walter? Sir Percival is a violent man.'

'I'm more afraid for you and Laura,' I said, 'left alone in London, with the Count as your enemy.'

We arranged to write to each other every day; and if no letter came from her, I would take the first train back to London.

*  *  *

Three days later I was standing in Mrs Catherick's sitting room, face to face with a grey-haired woman, dressed in black silk. Her dark eyes looked straight at me with a hard, cold stare.

'You say you have come to speak to me about my daughter,' she said. 'Please say what you have to say.'

Her voice was as hard as the expression in her eyes. She pointed to a chair, and looked at me carefully as I sat down.

'You know,' I said, 'that your daughter is lost?'

'I know that perfectly well.'

'Don't you worry that she might not be just lost, but that she might have met with her death?'

'Yes. Have you come to tell me that she is dead?'

'I have.'

'Why?'

She asked that extraordinary question without the slightest change in her voice, face, or manner. I might have been talking about the death of a cat in the street.

'I thought Anne's mother might be interested in knowing if she was alive or dead.'

'Just so,' she said. 'But what is your interest in her, or in me? Have you no other reason for coming here?'

'Yes, I do,' I said. 'Your daughter's death has caused someone I love to be harmed — by a man called Sir Percival Glyde.'

She did not react at all at the mention of his name.

'I want to make him confess to his crime. You know certain things about him from the time when your husband was the church clerk. I want you to tell me about them.'

At last I saw the anger burning in her eyes.

'What do you know about those events?'

'Everything that Mrs Clements could tell me.'

'Mrs Clements is a foolish woman.' She bit back her anger, and her lips curled in an unpleasant little smile. 'Ah, I begin to understand. You want your revenge on Sir Percival Glyde, and you want my help. That's why you've come here. Well, you don't know me. I've spent years getting back my reputation in this village. Now everyone respects me. I won't help you.'

'If you're afraid of Sir Percival, that's quite understandable,' I said. 'He's a powerful man, and comes from a great family —'

To my amazement, she suddenly burst out laughing.

'From a great family! Yes, indeed! Especially from his mother's side,' she said with disgust.

Whatever did she mean by that, I wondered?

'The secret between you and Sir Percival was not guilty love,' I insisted. 'It was something else that brought you and him to those stolen meetings outside the vestry of the church.'

As I said the words 'vestry of the church', I saw a wave of terror pass across her face.

'Go!' she said. 'And never come back. Unless' — and she gave a slow, cruel smile — 'unless you bring news of his death.'

*  *  *

It was now late, and I made my way to the nearest hotel. There was much to think about. Why should mention of the church vestry cause terror? Why the disgust at Sir Percival's family, especially his mother? Was there something unusual about his parents' marriage? Perhaps the local marriage register was kept in the vestry of Welmingham church...

The next day I went to the church. I had been aware of being followed the previous evening, and now I caught sight of the same two men I had seen outside Mr Kyrle's office in London. It seemed that Sir Percival had expected me to visit Mrs Catherick, and was now expecting me to visit Welmingham church — proof, surely, that my investigation was going in the right direction.

I found the church clerk, who fetched his keys and took me to the vestry. It could only be entered from the outside of the church, and the clerk had great difficulty opening the lock, which was very old. Once inside, I asked to see the marriage register. It was kept in a cupboard which could easily be forced open.

'Is that a safe enough place to keep the register?' I said.

'Safe enough,' the clerk said. 'A copy is kept by a lawyer in the next village — Mr Wansborough's office in Knowlesbury.'

I worked backwards in the register from Sir Percival's year of birth and there, under September of the previous year, squashed into a small space at the bottom of the page, was the record of the marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster of Knowlesbury. Just the usual information. Nothing apparently peculiar about Sir Percival's mother. The secret seemed further away than ever.

But on to Knowlesbury, and Mr Wansborough's office — a five-mile walk, but possible to get there and back by the end of the day. It was worth checking the copy of the register, and perhaps the lawyer would know something that might be useful.


pursue v. continue to investigate 继续调查

lodgings n. rooms rented for lodging in 租用的房子

bring up raise 抚养

heartless adj. unfeeling, pitiless 无情的

vestry n. a room or building attached to a church for keeping vestments in 教堂的法衣室

react v. undergo a change or show behaviour due to some influence 反应

bite back restrain 克制

burst out suddenly begin 突然做……

disgust n. strong aversion 不屑

make one's way to go to 到……去

catch sight of see, find 看到

11.调查

下面是我在汉普郡初步调查的情况。布莱克沃特村没有一个人记得珀西瓦尔爵士离开的确切时间。园丁也仅仅记得大概是7月下旬。

“那么,开始下一步行动吧,”回到伦敦我对玛丽安说,“查出那个秘密来。我需要找到安妮·凯瑟里克的母亲,但我必须首先找到安妮的朋友克莱门茨太太,从她那里了解一些情况。可怎么才能找到克莱门茨太太?”

玛丽安想出了办法:“还记得克莱门茨太太和安妮在利默里奇附近住过的农场吗?我们给他们写信,也许他们知道克莱门茨太太的地址。”

我们很幸运,农场主的妻子真的知道地址,她回信告诉了我们。她就住在伦敦,离我们住的地方不远。第二天上午,我就找到了那个地方,敲响了房门。

克莱门茨太太急切地想知道我是否带来了安妮的消息,当我告诉她没有的时候,她非常难过。不过,她愿意把她知道的一切都告诉我。

“离开利默里奇以后,先生,”她对我说,“安妮和我去了英国东北部,这个时候安妮得了心脏病。她身体很不好,但她坚持到汉普郡去见格莱德夫人。所以我们就去了那儿,住在布莱克沃特附近的一个村子里——那地方离布莱克沃特不是很近,因为安妮非常害怕珀西瓦尔爵士。

“每一次安妮到湖边去见格莱德夫人,我都在远处跟着她。但是走那么远的路让她非常疲劳,结果她又病了。最后我代替她到湖边去见格莱德夫人。那天格莱德夫人没有来,来的是一个很胖的男人,他捎来了格莱德夫人的口信,让我们赶快回伦敦,因为如果在这里呆久了,珀西瓦尔爵士肯定会发现我们。格莱德夫人自己很快也会到伦敦去,如果我们把地址给她,她会跟我们联系。”

“但是她没跟你们联系,对吗?”我问,心想伯爵对这个善良的女人说的谎真是高明啊。

“没错,先生。我找到了住处,把地址寄给了格莱德夫人,可是两个星期过去了,我们没收到任何回音。后来,有一天一位夫人乘马车到这里来。她说她从格莱德夫人那儿来,格莱德夫人住在一家旅店,想安排同安妮见面。我答应同那位夫人去安排见面的事,把安妮一个人留在住处。可这是个恶毒的阴谋,先生。走到半路,那位夫人说要去商店取点儿东西,让我等几分钟。她去了就再没回来,先生。我等了好一阵子,然后赶忙回家——回来后却发现安妮不见了。就这么消失了。”

我让克莱门茨太太描述一下那位“夫人”的样子,根据她的描述,那人很显然是福斯科夫人。现在我明白伯爵是怎么把安妮·凯瑟里克弄到伦敦,又怎么把她和克莱门茨太太分开的了。

“我不知道安妮到底出了什么事,”克莱门茨太太伤心地说,“我调查过,甚至给她母亲写过信,但是她什么也不知道。我现在非常想念可怜的安妮。你知道,她就像我的女儿一样,先生。”

“我相信你是她的好母亲,”我说,“比她的亲生母亲还要亲。”

“那倒没什么难的,”克莱门茨太太说,“凯瑟里克太太是一个铁石心肠的女人。她好像仇视这个孩子,我提出抚养这孩子时,她非常高兴。后来有一天她把安妮带到利默里奇同她的妹妹住在一起。再后来,她就不让我见安妮了。安妮从精神病院逃出来之前,我就再没见到过她。她逃出来还是你帮的忙呢,先生。从那以后,她—直说她母亲知道一个秘密,那秘密会毁了珀西瓦尔爵士。但是,先生,我觉得安妮并不真的知道那个秘密。如果她真的知道,我相信她早就告诉我了。”

我自己也想过这个问题。但是,现在我努力把话题转向凯瑟里克太太。

“安妮出生前,你就认识凯瑟里克太太吗?”

“认识,大概有四个月的时间。我们在韦明翰是邻居。当时凯瑟里克夫妇刚刚结婚,凯瑟里克先生在韦明翰教堂当职员。结婚前,凯瑟里克太太在一个大户人家当仆人。她是一个自私、狠心的女人,对她可怜的丈夫非常不好。不久,关于她和住在附近旅店的一个年轻人有了很多风言风语。凯瑟里克先生对我丈夫说,他发现他妻子的抽屉里藏着许多贵重礼物,金戒指什么的。”

“那个年轻人是谁?”我问。

“你认识他,先生。我可怜的安妮也认识他。”

“珀西瓦尔爵士?”我的心跳开始加速。我是不是接近那个秘密了?

“就是他。他父亲那时在国外去世,珀西瓦尔爵士刚刚到这里来。大家都说很可能凯瑟里克太太早就认识珀西瓦尔爵士,她和凯瑟里克先生结婚就是想挽救自己的名声,因为,嗯,你知道……不管怎样,一天晚上,凯瑟里克先生看到他妻子和珀西瓦尔爵士在教堂的法衣室外窃窃私语。他们打了起来。珀西瓦尔爵士打了他。之后,凯瑟里克先生就离开了那个村子,再也没回来。尽管村子里流言满天飞,凯瑟里克太太还是一直住在那里。”她说自己是清白的,谁也赶不走她。不过大多数人都认为她是靠珀西瓦尔爵士的钱维持生活的。”

秘密就在这里。可是到底是什么呢?珀西瓦尔爵士是安妮的父亲,这已经不是什么秘密了,大家早就这么想了。不对,这里一定还有隐情。

“那你怎么看,克莱门茨太太?”

“嗯,如果从时间和地点来看,很明显凯瑟里克先生不是安妮的父亲。但是,安妮一点儿也不像珀西瓦尔爵士,也不像她母亲。”

我想到凯瑟里克太太当仆人的那家,也许什么时候我可以到那儿调查一下。

“真是太谢谢了,克莱门茨太太,”我说,“你回答了我那么多问题。最后我还有个请求,你能告诉我凯瑟里克太太的地址吗?我必须查清楚这个秘密,只有她可以告诉我。”

克莱门茨太太把地址给了我,但是摇了摇头,“你要小心,先生。她是一个很可怕的女人,你没有我了解她。”

*  *  *

回到住处,我把要去韦明翰的想法告诉了玛丽安,她非常担优。

“你觉得这样好吗,沃尔特?珀西瓦尔爵士是个心狠手辣的人。”

“我更担心的是你和劳拉,”我说,“就你们两个留在伦敦,还要对付伯爵。”

我们商量好每天都互相写信,如果没有收到玛丽安的来信,我就搭乘最早的一班火车回伦敦来。

*  *  *

三天后,我已经站在凯瑟里克太太的客厅里了。我面前是一个头发灰白的女人,穿着黑色绸衣。她的一双黑眼睛冷冷地盯着我。

“你说你来跟我谈我女儿的事,”她开口说,“有什么话就请讲吧。”

她的声音像她的眼神一样冷。她指了指一把椅子,我坐下以后,她开始仔细地打量我。

“你知道,”我说,“你女儿失踪了吗?”

“我非常清楚。”

“难道你不担心她可能不光是失踪了,有可能她已经死了?”

“我想过。那你是来告诉我,她已经死了?”

“是的。”

“为什么?”

提出这样荒谬的问题,她的声音、表情和举止居然没有任何变化,就好像我刚才谈的是街上死了一只猫。

“我原以为安妮的母亲会关心她的生死。”

“就为了这个啊,”她说,“但是你为什么对她或我感兴趣呢?你到这里来没有其他原因?”

“有,”我回答,“你女儿的死使我所爱的人受到了伤害——是一个叫珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士的人干的。”

我提到了珀西瓦尔的名字,她一点儿反应都没有。

“我要让他承认他所犯下的罪行,你丈夫在教堂当职员的时候,你就知道了他的一些事,我希望你把所知道的告诉我。”

我终于在她眼里看到了愤怒的目光。

“你是怎么知道这些事的?”

“克莱门茨太太把她知道的都告诉我了。”

“克莱门茨太太是个愚蠢的女人。”她压下怒火,双唇勾起一丝恶意的微笑。“呵,我开始懂了。要向珀西瓦尔爵士报仇,需要帮忙。这就是你来这里的原因。你不了解我。我在这个村子住了这么多年,才挽回我的名誉。现在大家都很尊敬我,我不会帮你的。”

“如果你害怕珀西瓦尔爵士,那是可以理解的,”我说,“他是个有权势的人,出身名门——”

令我吃惊的是,她突然大笑起来。

“出身名门!是,没错!尤其是他母亲那一边。”她不屑地说。

她这话是什么意思?我不明白。

“你和他之间的秘密不是什么婚外情,”我接着说,“是别的事情使得你们在教堂的法衣室外秘密见面。”

在提到“教堂的法衣室”时,我注意到她的脸上掠过一阵恐惧。

“滚出去!”她大声喊着,“再也不要回来。除非”——她脸上慢慢露出残忍的笑意——“除非你来告诉我他死了。”

*  *  *

天色已晚,我朝最近的旅店走去。有许多问题需要思考。为什么提到教堂的法衣室她就害怕了?为什么她瞧不起珀西瓦尔爵士的家庭,特别是他的母亲?难道他父母的婚姻有什么特别的地方?也许当地的婚姻登记记录就存放在韦明翰教堂的法衣室……

第二天我去了教堂。我已经注意到前一天晚上有人跟踪我,这会儿我又看到在伦敦克尔先生办公室外见到的那两个人在跟着我。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士已经料到我要来见凯瑟里克太太,现在又料到我来韦明翰教堂——这些恰好证明我的调查方向是正确的。

我找到了教堂职员,他找来钥匙,带我来到教堂的法衣室。法衣室只能从教堂外面进去,职员费了好大劲儿才打开那把旧锁。进去以后,我说要看看婚姻登记记录。那些记录放在一个柜子里,柜子的门很容易被撬开。

“婚姻登记记录放在这里安全吗?”我问。

“很安全,”职员回答,“另一个副本存放在邻村的律师那里,就是万斯伯勒先生的办公室,在诺雷斯伯里。”

我从珀西瓦尔爵士出生那年的记录开始往前面查,在前一年的9月,有一页在靠下的角落里记着费利克斯·格莱德爵士和诺雷斯伯里的塞西莉亚结婚。只是非常一般的记录,看不出珀西瓦尔爵士的母亲有什么特殊的地方。秘密好像比以前离我更远了。

接下来,我奔赴诺雷斯伯里万斯伯勒先生的办公室——大约有5英里的路程,但是在天黑前赶回来还是可能的。很有必要查看一下记录的副本,也许律师会知道一些有用的信息。

12
The secret

Sir Percival's spies attacked me on the road to Knowlesbury. One of them came up beside me, and bumped into me with his shoulder. I pushed him away, hard, and he immediately shouted for help. The other man ran up and the two of them held me between them. The first man accused me of attacking him, and they said they would take me to the police station in the town.

What could I do? I couldn't fight both of them and hope to get away, so I had to go with them.

At the police station the first man accused me of a violent attack, and the second man said he was a witness. I was locked up until the next magistrate's court, which was three days away. I could be released on bail, I was told, but how could I, a total stranger in the town, find a responsible person willing to pay money for my temporary freedom? The whole plan was now clear — to get me out of the way for three days, while Sir Percival did whatever was necessary to prevent his secret being discovered.

At first I was too angry to think clearly. Then I remembered Mr Dawson, the doctor. I had been to his house on my previous visit to Blackwater, so I knew his address. I wrote him a letter, explaining what had happened and begging for his help, and then asked for a messenger to deliver it. Two hours later the good doctor appeared, paid the required money and I was set free.

There was no time to lose. The news of my being free would doubtless reach Sir Percival within hours. I hurried to the lawyer's office, where I asked if I could see the copy of the Welmingham marriage register. Mr Wansborough was a pleasant man and agreed to show me the copy. In fact, he was quite amused. No one had asked to see it since his father (now dead) had locked it away in the office more than twenty years before.

As I opened the register, my hands trembled. I turned the pages to the year and month. I found the names I remembered just before, and just after, the marriage of Sir Percival's parents. And between these entries, at the bottom of the page...?

Nothing! The marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster was not there! I looked again, to be sure. No, nothing. Not a doubt about it. Sir Percival must have seen the space in the Welmingham register and written in the marriage himself.

I had never once suspected this. He was not Sir Percival Glyde at all! His parents had not been married, so he had no right to the inheritance of Blackwater Park, no right to the rank of Baronet, no right even to the name of Glyde! This was his secret — and it was now mine to use against him!

The copy of the register would be safe enough in the lawyer's office, but I decided to go back to Welmingham and make a copy of the false record from the church register. It was dark now and I ran all the way to the church clerk's house. I knocked on his door, but when he appeared, he looked suspicious and confused.

'Where are the keys?' he asked. 'Have you taken them?'

'What keys do you mean?' I said. 'I've just this minute arrived from Knowlesbury.'

'The keys of the vestry,' he said. 'The keys are gone! Someone's broken in and taken the keys.'

'Get a light,' I said, 'and let's go to the vestry. Quick!'

We ran to the church. On the path we passed a man who looked at us with frightened eyes. He seemed to be a servant of some kind. We did not stop to question him, but ran on.

As we came in sight of the vestry, I saw a high window brilliantly lit from within. There was a strange smell on the night air, a sound of cracking wood, and the light grew brighter and brighter. I ran to the door and put my hand on it. The vestry was on fire!

I heard the key working violently in the lock — I heard a man's voice behind the door, raised in terror, screaming for help.

'Oh, my God!' said the servant, who had followed us, 'it's Sir Percival!'

'God help him!' said the clerk. 'He's damaged the lock.'

*  *  *

At that moment I forget the man's crimes and see only the horror of his situation. Several people are now running towards the church and I call to them to help me break down the door. We look desperately for something to use, and at last someone finds a long heavy piece of wood.

By now the flames are shooting up out of the window, and the screams have stopped. We get the wood into position and run at the door with it. Again, and again! At last the door crashes down, but a wave of heat hits our faces and drives us back — and in the room we see nothing but a sheet of living fire.

*  *  *

The church itself was saved as the fire engine arrived soon afterwards and managed to put out the fire before it spread. They carried out the body of Sir Percival Glyde and laid it on the wet ground. I looked down on his dead face and this was how, for the first and last time, I saw him.

He must have heard that I was free and on my way back to Welmingham, so he hurried to the church, stealing the keys and locking himself in to prevent anyone coming in and finding him. All he could do was tear the page out of the register and destroy it. If the false record no longer existed, I could produce no evidence to threaten him with. He must have dropped his lamp by accident, which started the fire. Then in his urgency to get out, the lock had become damaged and the key unmoveable.

I could not leave the town. There would be a legal enquiry into the accident the next day, which I had to attend, and in any case I had to report back to the police station in Knowlesbury. I returned to the hotel and wrote to Marian, telling her everything that had happened and warning her to keep the news from Laura for the moment. With Sir Percival's death, my hopes of establishing Laura's identity had also died, and I could see no way forward at present.

The next day an envelope with my name on was delivered to the hotel. The letter inside was neither dated nor signed, but before I had read the first sentence, I knew who had written it — Mrs Catherick.


Sir — I thought you were my enemy. Now that he is dead, because of you, I consider you my friend. To thank you for what you have done, I will now tell you the things you wanted to know about my private life.

Twenty-three years ago I was a beautiful young woman living in Welmingham, married to a fool of a husband. I also knew a gentleman — I shall not call him by his name. Why should I? It was not his own. I was born with expensive tastes. This man gave me expensive presents. Naturally he wanted something in return — all men do. And what did he want? Just a little thing. The key to the church vestry, when my husband's back was turned. I liked my presents, so I got him the key. I watched him in the vestry without his knowing, and saw what he was doing. I did not know then how serious a crime it was. I said I would not tell anyone about the marriage he had added to the register if he told me about his private life. He agreed — why, you will see in a moment.

He said that he only found out that his parents were not married after his mother's death. His father confessed to it and promised to do what he could for his son. But he died having done nothing. The son came to England and took possession of the property. There was no one to say he could not. In fact, the right person to claim the property was a distant relation away at sea. However, to borrow money on the property, he needed a certificate of his parents' marriage. This was a problem — a problem which brought him to Welmingham.

As his parents had mostly lived abroad and had had no social life in England, who was to say (the priest being dead) that a private marriage had not taken place at Welmingham church? His plan was to tear out a page from the marriage register in the year before his birth and destroy it. Then he would tell his lawyers in London to get the necessary certificate, innocently referring them to the date on the page that was gone. At least no one could say that his parents were not married.

However, when he saw there was a small space at the bottom of the page in the right year, he changed his plan and took the opportunity to write in the marriage himself. It took him some time, though, to practise the handwriting and to mix the right colour of ink, so that it looked the same.

After my husband caught me talking secretly to him and after their fight together, I asked my fine gentleman to clear my name and to say there had been nothing between us. But he refused. He wanted everyone to believe something false, so that they would never suspect the truth. He then told me that the punishment for his crime, and anyone who helped him, was life in prison. He frightened me! If I spoke out, I was just as lost as he was. He then agreed to make me a yearly payment if I said nothing and stayed in Welmingham, where he could always find me and where there was no danger of my making friends and talking. This was hard, but I accepted.

Many years later, when my daughter was with me at home, I received a letter from him which made me very angry. I lost control of myself and said, in her presence, that 'I could destroy him if I let out his secret'. Then one day he came to our house and called her a fool. Immediately she shouted, 'Ask for my pardon, now, or I'll let out your secret and destroy your life. 'My own words! He went white. Then he swore at us. It ended, as you know, by his shutting her up in an asylum. I tried to tell him she knew nothing. But he did not believe me. My daughter knew that she had frightened him and that he was responsible for shutting her up because he believed she knew his secret. That's why she hated him. But she never to her dying day knew what his secret actually was.

I will end by saying that you insult me if you think my husband was not my daughter's father. Please do not ask further questions about that. To protect myself, I mention no names in this letter, nor do I sign it.


magistrate n. an official conducting a court for minor cases 法官

bail n. money left with a court of law to prove that a prisoner will return when their trial starts 保释金

entry n. an item 条目

brilliantly adv. very brightly 非常亮

produce v. bring forward for consideration or inspection 拿出

12.秘密

在去往诺雷斯伯里的路上,珀西瓦尔爵士的人向我发起了攻击。其中一个走到我旁边,用肩膀撞我。我用力把他推开,他马上大喊起来。另一个人跑过来,他们两个把我夹在了中间。第一个人指责我打他,他们说要把我带到镇上的警察局去。

我能怎么办呢?我没办法打倒他们两个再逃走,现在只得跟他们走了。

到了警察局,第一个人说我打他,另一个人说他是证人。我被关了起来,等着三天后法官开庭审理。他们告诉我可以保释,可是我在这里一个人也不认识,怎么可能找到一个愿意负责的人出钱让我获得暂时的自由呢?他们的整个计划很清楚——让我消失三天,珀西瓦尔爵士就利用这段时间尽一切可能保证他的秘密不被发现。

刚开始,我非常气愤,头脑中一片混乱。后来我想起了道森先生,那位医生。上一次我去布莱克沃特的时候到过他家,所以我知道他的地址。我给他写了封信,告诉他出了什么事,请求他来帮我,然后找了一个送信的帮我把信送走。两个小时后,好心的医生来了,为我交了保释金,我自由了。

必须抓紧时间,因为我被释放的消息肯定几个小时之内就会传到珀西瓦尔爵士那里。我赶到律师的办公室,请求看一下韦明翰的结婚登记记录。万斯伯勒先生是个和气的人,他同意让我看副本。其实,应该说他很高兴,因为自从他父亲(现在已经去世了)20多年前把文件锁在办公室后,从未有人要求查看过。

我翻开记录副本的时候双手在颤抖。我找到了珀西瓦尔爵士父母结婚的年份和月份,以及在他们之前和之后结婚的男女方姓名记录。但是,在这些条目之间,在那一页的底下……?

什么也没有!费利克斯·格莱德爵士和塞西莉亚·埃尔斯特的婚姻根本就没有记录!为了保险起见,我又看了一遍。没有,什么也没有,毫无疑问。珀西瓦尔爵士可能在韦明翰的记录中看到了那个空白,然后自己填上了那条记录。

我从未怀疑到这一点。他根本就不是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士,他的父母没有结婚,他根本没有权利继承布莱克沃特庄园和爵位,甚至根本无权姓格莱德!这就是他的秘密——现在我要利用这个秘密来对付他!

婚姻登记的副本放在律师的办公室很安全,我决定返回韦明翰,复制一份教堂的假记录。天已经黑了,我一路跑到教堂职员的住处。我敲了门,职员出来的时候,脸上布满了疑虑。

“钥匙在哪儿?”他问我,“你把钥匙拿走了吗?”

“什么钥匙?”我说,“我刚从诺雷斯伯里过来。”

“法衣室的钥匙,”他说,“钥匙不见了!有人进来偷走了钥匙。”

“拿上灯,”我说,“我们去法衣室,快!”

我们向教堂跑去。路上碰见一个人,似乎是个仆人,他惊慌地看了看我们。我们没有停下来问他任何问题,而是继续向前跑。

当我们看到法衣室的时候,我发现从一个高处的窗户里发出很亮的光,夜晚的空气中有一股奇怪的味道,可以听到木头劈啪作响的声音,那光变得越来越亮。我跑到法衣室的门口,用手摸了摸门。法衣室起火了!

我听到钥匙在锁里使劲转动的声音——我听到门后有人害怕地高声喊救命。

“噢,上帝!”跟着我们跑过来的仆人说,“是珀西瓦尔爵士!”

“上帝啊,救救他!”职员说,“他把锁弄坏了。”

alt

*  *  *

这个时候,我忘记了这个人的罪恶,只想到他现在的危急处境。有几个人正朝教堂跑过来,我叫他们帮我把门弄开。我们到处找能弄开门的东西,最后有人找来一根很粗的长木头。

这时,火焰已经窜出了窗户,呼叫声已听不见了。我们抬着长木头,一次又一次朝门撞过去。最后门被撞倒了,热浪从屋里冲出来,使我们不得不往后退去——屋里除了一团火什么也看不见。

*  *  *

救火车很快赶到,没等火势蔓延就把火扑灭了,教堂本身没有受到破坏。人们把珀西瓦尔爵士的尸体抬了出来,放在潮湿的地上。我看了看他的脸,这是我第一次也是最后一次看到他。

他一定是听说我被放出来,而且正赶回韦明翰,所以急忙赶到教堂,偷了钥匙,把自己锁在屋子里,不让任何人进去发现他。他唯一能做的就是把那一页从登记簿上撕下来销毁。如果假记录没有了,我就拿不出证据来威胁他。他可能不小心把灯掉到地上,引起了大火。然后,他急着要出来,匆忙中弄坏了锁,钥匙转不动了。

我现在还不能离开这里。转天会有一个事故的法律调查,我必须参加。而且不管怎样,我还得向诺雷斯伯里的警察局报到。我回到旅店,写信给玛丽安,告诉她这里发生的事情,提醒她先不要把这个消息告诉劳拉。珀西瓦尔爵士死了,我证明劳拉身份的希望也不复存在,现在我不知下一步该怎么办。

第二天,一个写着我名字的信封被送到了旅店。里面的信既没有日期,也没有署名。但是还没看完第一句,我就知道是谁写的信了——凯瑟里克太太。

先生——我原以为你是我的敌人。现在因为你,他已经死了,我认为你是我的朋友。为感谢你的所作所为,我现在把你想知道的我的私事告诉你。

23年前,我是一个年轻漂亮的姑娘,住在韦明翰,嫁给了一位傻乎乎的丈夫。我还结识了一位绅士——我不会称呼他的名字。为什么要那样叫他?那不是他的名字。我生来就喜欢贵重的东西,这个人送给我许多贵重礼物,当然他是需要回报的——男人都是这样。这个男人要的是什么?很简单的一样东西。教堂法衣室的钥匙,当然要趁我丈夫不在的时候。我喜欢那些礼物,所以给他弄到了钥匙。我盯着他,看他在法衣室干什么,他并没发觉。当时我不知道那是多么严重的罪行。我跟他说,要是他告诉我他的私事,我不会告诉任何人他擅自增加结婚记录的事。他答应了——至于为什么,你往下看就明白了。

他说在他母亲死后,他才知道他的父母并没有结婚。他父亲承认了这件事,答应尽力为他儿子做些什么。可是他什么都没来得及做,就死去了。他的儿子来到英国继承了遗产。没人说他不能继承,实际上,真正应该继承遗产的是一个正在出海的远亲。然而,要想用那笔财产去借钱,他需要一份父母的结婚证明。这是个问题,为解决这个问题,他来到了韦明翰。

因为他父母大部分时间生活在国外,在英国没什么交际,所以谁会说(牧师已经死了)韦明翰教堂没举行过一场私下的婚礼呢?他的计划是把他出生前那一年的婚姻登记页撕下来销毁。然后,他就会告诉伦敦的律师们去取必要的证明文件,并假装不知情地把那个已经不存在的登记页上的日期告诉他们。至少谁也不会说他父母没结婚。

但是,他发现那年的登记页上靠下面有一点空白,于是改变了主意,趁机把他父母的婚姻写了进去。当然,他也颇费了些时间去模仿登记用的笔迹,还有配制合适的墨水颜色,让这条记录看起来跟其他的没有差别。

我丈夫看到我和他密谈,他们两个打了一架以后,我叫他帮我洗清名声,告诉别人我们之间什么也没发生,但是他拒绝了。他希望大家都相信并没有发生的事情,这样一来,人们就不会去想真相如何了。他还跟我说如果他的罪行败露,他以及帮过他的人都将被终生监禁。他让我害怕极了!如果我说出他的秘密,那我和他都完了。他答应每年支付我一笔钱,条件是我保持沉默,继续住在韦明翰,让他随时可以找到我,也免得我与人交朋友,然后乱讲话。虽说条件很苛刻,我还是答应了。

很多年以后,那时我女儿同我在一起,我收到他的一封信把我惹恼了。我无法控制自己,当着女儿的面说:“我把他的秘密说出去就能毁了他。”后来有一天,他来我家,管我女儿叫傻瓜,她一下子喊了起来:“赶快请求我原谅你,不然我就把你的秘密说出去,毁了你。”完全是我说过的话!他的脸一下子变白了。他向我们破口大骂。最后,你知道,他把她关进了精神病院。我试图告诉他,她什么也不知道。可是他不相信我。我女儿明白她使他害怕了,是他把她关进了精神病院,因为他认为她知道了他的秘密。这就是为什么她那么恨他。但是,她其实到死也不知道那秘密到底是什么。

最后我要说的是,如果你认为我丈夫不是我女儿的父亲,你就是污辱我。请不要多问了。为了保护我自己,信中没有提到任何名字,我也不会署名。

13
The threat

Mrs Catherick's extraordinary and shameless letter filled me with disgust. My interest in Sir Percival Glyde's crime was now at an end, but I decided to keep the letter in case it might help me find out who Anne's father really was.

Later in the morning I went to the legal enquiry into Sir Percival's death. I was only asked to say what had happened. I was not asked how I thought the keys had been taken, how the fire had been caused, or why Sir Percival had gone into the vestry. As no one could explain any of these things, the verdict at the end of the enquiry was 'death by accident'.

Afterwards, a gentleman who was also at the enquiry walked back to the hotel with me. He had heard from Sir Percival's lawyer that a distant relation abroad would now inherit Blackwater Park. This was obviously the person who should have inherited it twenty-three years before. If I made Sir Percival's crime public, it would be to no one's advantage now. If I kept the secret, the true character of the man who had cheated Laura into marrying him would remain hidden. And for her sake, I wished to keep it hidden.

I still could not leave Hampshire, as I had to report to the police station in Knowlesbury the next day. I spent another night at the hotel and in the morning went to the post office to collect the letter from Marian. As promised, we had written to each other every day, and Marian's letters had been full of cheerful news. This morning's letter was short, and terrified me.


Come back as soon as you can. We have had to move. Come to Gower's Walk, Fulham (number five). I will look out for you. Don't be alarmed about us, we are both safe and well. But come back. — Marian


What had happened? What dreadful thing had Count Fosco done while I was away? In spite of my anxiety, I had to wait. I paid my bill at the hotel and took a cab to Knowlesbury.

At the police station, as I expected, no one appeared to continue the action against me and I was allowed to go. Half an hour later I was on the train back to London.

I got to Gower's Walk in Fulham at about nine o'clock. Both Laura and Marian came to the door to let me in. Laura was much brighter and happier, full of plans for the future and for her drawing and painting. Marian's face was tired and anxious. I could see that she had spared Laura the knowledge of the terrible death in Welmingham and the true reason for moving to new lodgings. When Laura had left us and we could speak freely, I tried to give some expression to my feelings and told Marian how much I admired her for the courage and love she had shown.

She was too generous to listen to me, and turned the conversation to my worries.

'I'm so sorry for my letter — it must have alarmed you.'

'Yes, it did,' I admitted. 'Was I right in thinking that you moved because of a threat by Count Fosco?'

'Perfectly right,' she said. 'I saw him yesterday, and worse than that, Walter — I spoke to him.'

'Spoke to him? Did he come to the house?'

'He did. Yesterday, when I was passing the window, I saw him in the street. Then there was a knock on the door. I rushed out and there he was, dressed in black, with his smooth face and his deadly smile. I closed the door behind me so that Laura would not see or hear him.'

'What did he say?' I asked anxiously.

'He greeted me, then repeated the warning in his letter to me. He said he had not been able to prevent Sir Percival's violence towards you, and he had found out our address in order to protect his own interests. You were followed, Walter, on your return home after your first journey to Hampshire. He used this information only when he heard of Sir Percival's death, because he believed you would act against him next.'

'And he was right,' I said. 'What did he say about me?'

'He was very cool, very polite, and very threatening,' said Marian. 'He said, "Warn Mr Hartright! He has an intelligent and powerful man to deal with. Let him be content with what he has got. Say to him, if he attacks me, I will use all my power to destroy him. There is nothing I will not do. Dear lady, good morning." Then he just looked at me with his cold grey eyes, and walked away.

'I ran back inside, and told Laura we had to move. We needed a quieter neighbourhood with better air for the sake of her health. I said you'd wanted us to do that, and why didn't we do it now to surprise you when you got back. She liked that idea, and was quite happy to move. I found these lodgings through an old school friend. I did the right thing, didn't I, Walter?'

I answered her warmly and gratefully, as I really felt.

But the anxious look remained on her face, and I saw in her eyes her continuing fear of the Count's cleverness and energy.

'What do you think of his message, Walter? What do you plan to do next?'

'I decided weeks ago that Laura will be received in her uncle's house again,' I answered. 'And my decision remains the same. Count Fosco will answer for his crime to ME.'

Marian's eyes lit up. She said nothing, but I could see how strongly she supported this plan.

'I know the risks are great,' I said, 'but it must be done. I'm not foolish enough to try this before I'm well prepared. I can wait. Let him think his message has produced its effect. He will start to feel safe. Also, my position towards you and Laura ought to be a stronger one than it is now.'

'How can it be stronger?' she asked, surprised.

'Marian, I would like you to say to Laura, gently, that her husband is dead.'

'Oh, Walter, so soon? You have a reason for this, don't you?'

'Yes. I cannot speak to Laura yet. But one day, not too distant, I want to tell her that I love her.'

Marian looked at me for a time, then gave a sad, gentle smile. 'Yes, I understand. I think I owe it to her and to you, Walter, to tell her of her husband's death.'

The next day Laura knew that death had released her from her marriage, and her husband's name was never mentioned among us again.

*  *  *

Our life returned to its usual pattern, but I did not forget the Count. I discovered that he had rented his house in St John's Wood for another six months, so I was fairly sure he would still be in London, within my reach, when the time came to act.

We finally solved the puzzle of who Anne Catherick's father was. When I went again to see Mrs Clements and to tell her about Anne's death, she remembered where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Her employer had been a Mr Donthorne.

We wrote to Mr Donthorne, who replied with some very interesting information. Philip Fairlie, Laura's father, had been a great friend of his when they were young, and a frequent house guest. He was a handsome man and fond of female company. Mr Donthorne was fairly certain that Philip Fairlie had been staying at his house when Mrs Catherick was employed as a servant, in the year before Anne was born.

When Marian and I checked the dates; when we considered that Anne and Laura looked so alike; and when we took into account the fact that Laura looked very much like her father, we were in no doubt that here was the solution. Philip Fairlie was Anne's father, and so Anne was Laura's half-sister.

Now, at last, the woman in white, that strange sad shadow walking in the loneliness of the night, could rest in peace.

*  *  *

Four months passed. Laura grew stronger in body and in mind. She was almost her old self, and when we talked, it was as we used to talk at Limmeridge. If I touched her by accident, I felt my heart beating fast, and I saw the answering colour in her face.

In April, we went for a holiday at the seaside. While we were there I told Marian that when we returned to London, I was determined to force a confession from Count Fosco — to make him tell me the real date of Laura's journey to London.

'But if I am to challenge the Count, for Laura's safety, I think I should challenge him as her husband. Do you agree, Marian?'

'With every word,' she said. 'I parted you both once. Wait here, my brother, my best and dearest friend! Till Laura comes, and tells you what I have done now!'

She kissed my forehead and left the room. I waited by the window, staring out at the beach, seeing nothing, hardly able to breathe. The door opened, and Laura came in alone. When we parted at Limmeridge, she had come into the room slowly, in sorrow and hesitation. Now she ran to me, with the light of happiness shining in her face. She put her arms around me, and her sweet lips came to meet mine.

'My darling!' she whispered, 'May we say we love each other now? Oh, I am so happy at last!'

Ten days later we were even happier. We were married.


verdict n. a decision; a judgment 结论

spare somebody the knowledge of keeping somebody from knowing 不让某人知道……

deadly adj. horrible 可怕的

answer for be responsible 受到惩罚

fairly adv. to a noticeable degree 相当地

13.威胁

凯瑟里克太太奇怪而又不知羞耻的来信使我对她充满了鄙夷。现在,我对珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行已经没有兴趣了,但我还是决定留着这封信,也许它会帮我找出安妮的父亲究竟是谁。

上午晚些时候,我去参加珀西瓦尔爵士死亡的法律调查。他们只让我说说发生了什么,没有问我如何看待钥匙为什么会被拿走,火灾是怎么发生的,或者为什么珀西瓦尔爵士会进到法衣室去。没有人能够解释这些问题,所以调查的最终结论是“意外死亡”。

之后,一位也参加了调查的男子和我一起走回旅店。他从珀西瓦尔爵士的律师那里得知,一个国外的远亲现在要来继承布莱克沃特庄园。很明显,这就是23年前应该继承庄园的那个人。假如我把珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行公之于众,现在对谁都没有好处。假如我不把秘密说出去,这个欺骗劳拉与之结婚的人的真正人品就不会有人知道。但为了劳拉,我愿意保守这个秘密。

我还不能离开汉普郡,因为转天还要去诺雷斯伯里警察局。我在旅店又住了一晚。第二天一早,我去邮局取玛丽安的来信。我们按约定每天通信。玛丽安的来信一直都是好消息。今天早上的来信很短,但却令我害怕。


请尽快回来。我们不得不搬了家。到富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街(5号)来找我们。我也会留意等你。不必为我们担心,我们很安全。一定快回来。玛丽安


出了什么事?我不在的时候,福斯科伯爵又做了什么坏事?尽管非常担心,我还是得等。我付清了旅店的费用,叫了辆马车直奔诺雷斯伯里。

在警察局,不出我所料,没人来继续同我纠缠,我可以走了。半个小时后,我登上了返回伦敦的火车。

大约9点钟,我赶到了富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街。劳拉和玛丽安都到门口迎接我。劳拉的脸色比以前好多了,人也高兴多了,对将来和她的绘画有很多想法。玛丽安的脸上带着倦容和忧虑。看得出她没有把珀西瓦尔死在韦明翰的可怕消息和搬到新住处的真实原因告诉劳拉。劳拉走开以后,我们可以随便谈话了。我想告诉她我非常敬佩她的勇气和她对劳拉表现出的爱。

这位慷慨的姑娘没等我说完就把话题转到我的担忧上来了。

alt

“给你写那样的信,真是对不起——你一定很为我们担心吧。”

“是的,我的确很担心,”我说,“我猜你们搬家是由于福斯科伯爵的威胁,对吗?”

“一点儿不错,”她回答,“我昨天看见他了,更糟糕的是,沃尔特——我跟他说话了。”

“跟他说话了?他去你们的住处了?”

“是的。昨天,我从窗旁走过的时候,看见他在街上。过了一会儿,有人敲门。我马上跑过去开门,就是他,穿一身黑色衣服,光滑的脸上带着吓人的微笑。我关上了身后的门,这样劳拉就看不见他,也听不见他说话了。”

“他都说了什么?”我急切地问。

“他跟我打了招呼,然后再一次重复了他在信中对我的警告。他说他没能阻止珀西瓦尔爵士针对你的恶劣行为,他找到我们的住处是要保护他自己的利益。你第一次去汉普郡回来的时候就被跟踪了,沃尔特。他在听到珀西瓦尔爵士的死讯后才决定登门,因为他认为你下一个对付的目标就是他。”

“让他说对了,”我说,“他说我什么了?”

“他非常冷静而有礼,同时又非常具有威胁性,”玛丽安接着说,“他说,‘请警告哈特里特先生!他要对付的是一个有智慧、有权势的人。叫他对已经得到的东西知足吧。告诉他,如果他跟我对着干,我将不遗余力地干掉他。我会不择手段的。亲爱的小姐,再见。’然后,他用冷酷的灰眼睛看了看我,就走了。

“我赶忙跑进屋,跟劳拉说我们得搬家。为她的健康着想,我们需要一个更安静、空气更好的地方。我说你也希望我们搬家,为什么不现在就搬,等你回来给你一个惊喜呢。她喜欢这个主意,欢天喜地地同意了。我通过一个校友找到这个住处。我做得没错吧,沃尔特?”

我说她做得非常好,这是我的心里话。

但是,她脸上依然带着忧虑,从她的眼神里看得出,她还在害怕伯爵的精明和权势。

“沃尔特,你怎么看他的那些话?下一步你准备怎么做?”

“几星期前,我就决定让劳拉重新在她叔叔家得到应有的承认,”我回答,“现在我还是这样想的。我要让福斯科伯爵为他犯下的罪行付出代价。”

玛丽安的眼睛一亮,虽然没有说话,但是看得出她非常支持这个计划。

“我清楚这样做风险很大,”我说,“但这件事一定要做。我不会愚蠢到没做好准备就动手。我可以等。让他觉得他的话起了作用,认为已经平安无事了。另外,我跟你和劳拉的关系也该比现在更明确。”

“怎么个更明确法?”她吃惊地问。

“玛丽安,我希望你能心平气和地告诉劳拉,她丈夫已经死了。”

“噢,沃尔特,这么快就告诉她?你这样做是不是有什么原因?”

“是的,我现在还不能跟劳拉谈,但总有一天,不会太久,我会告诉她我爱她。”

玛丽安看了我一会儿,然后淡淡地、略带忧伤地笑了笑,“好吧,我明白。我想这是我欠你们的,沃尔特,我会把她丈夫的死讯告诉她。”

第二天,劳拉知道她丈夫死了,她也从这段婚姻中解脱了,那以后我们谁也没再提过她丈夫的名字。

*  *  *

我们的生活恢复了往常的模式,但是我没有忘记伯爵。我了解到他在圣约翰伍德的房子又续租了6个月,因此可以肯定,到了我采取行动的时候,他还会在伦敦,我还可以找到他。

我们终于弄清了安妮·凯瑟里克的父亲是谁。我又去见了克莱门茨太太,告诉她安妮已经死了。她记起凯瑟里克太太当仆人的地方。她的雇主姓多桑。

我们给多桑先生写信,他在回信中告诉我们一些非常有趣的信息。菲利普·费尔利,就是劳拉的父亲,年轻时和他是好友,也是他家里的常客。菲利普风流潇洒,喜欢女色。多桑先生非常肯定凯瑟里克太太在他家当仆人的那段时间,也就是安妮出生的前一年,菲利普·费尔利一直住在他家。

玛丽安和我算了算时间,我们想到安妮和劳拉如此地相像,想到劳拉如此地像她父亲,我们得到了非常肯定的答案。菲利普·费尔利是安妮的父亲,安妮和劳拉是同父异母的姐妹。

现在,那位白衣女人,那位在寂静深夜出现的古怪而哀伤的女人终于可以安息了。

*  *  *

四个月过去了,劳拉的身体渐渐强壮起来,头脑也慢慢清楚了。她几乎又是原来的她了。我们交谈的时候,感觉和当初在利默里奇谈话时一样。当我无意间碰到她的时候,我感到心跳在加速,而且我注意到她也脸红了。

4月,我们到海边度假。在那里,我告诉玛丽安,等回到伦敦,我一定要迫使福斯科伯爵说实话,让他说出劳拉回伦敦的真正日期。

“但是为了劳拉的安全,我想如果我挑战伯爵的话,最好以她丈夫的身份前去,你同意吗,玛丽安?”

“完全同意,”玛丽安说,“我曾让你们两个分开,你在这儿等我一下,我的好朋友!一会儿劳拉就过来,她会告诉你我这次是怎么做的,好吗?”

她吻了吻我的额头,走了出去。我在窗旁等着,眼睛望着海滩,却什么也看不到,我紧张得几乎喘不过气来。门开了,劳拉一个人走进来。我们在利默里奇分手的时候,她是慢慢地走进房间的,神情充满了痛苦和犹豫。这会儿,她跑向我,脸上闪耀着幸福的光芒。她张开手臂紧紧地拥抱我,用甜润的双唇吻着我。

“亲爱的!”她轻声说,“现在我们能对彼此说‘我爱你’了吧?啊,我终于得到幸福了!”

十天以后,我们的幸福又向前迈进了一步,我们结婚了。

14
The confession

A fortnight later, we returned to London, and I began to prepare for my battle with the Count. It was now early May and the rental agreement for his house ended in June. In my new happiness with Laura (to whom we never mentioned the Count's name), I was sometimes tempted to change my mind and to leave things as they were. But she still had dreams, terrible dreams that made her cry out in her sleep, and I knew I had to go on.

First, I tried to find out more about the Count. Marian told me that he had not been back to Italy for many years. Had he been obliged to leave Italy for political reasons, I wondered? But Marian also said that at Blackwater Park he had received official-looking letters with Italian stamps on, which would seem to contradict this idea. Perhaps he was a spy, I thought. That might explain why he had stayed in England so long after the successful completion of his plot. Who could I ask who might know something? Another Italian, perhaps — and I suddenly thought of my old friend, Professor Pesca.

Before I did that, I decided to have a look at the Count, as up to this time I had never once set eyes on him. So one morning I went to Forest Road, St John's Wood, and waited near his house. Eventually, he came out and I followed behind him as he walked towards the centre of London. Marian had prepared me for his enormous size and fashionable clothes, but not for the horrible freshness and cheerfulness and energy of the man.

Near Oxford Street he stopped to read a sign announcing an opera, and then went into the opera ticket office, which was nearby. I went over to read the sign. The opera was being performed that evening, and it seemed likely that the Count would be in the audience.

If I invite Pesca to the opera, I thought, I can point the Count out to him and find out if he knows him. So I bought two tickets myself, sent Pesca a note, and that evening called to take him with me to the opera.

The music had already started when we went in, and all the seats were filled. However, there was room to stand at the sides. I looked around and saw the Count sitting in a seat half-way down, so I placed myself exactly on a line with him, with Pesca standing at my side. When the first part finished, the audience, including the Count, rose to look about them.

When the Count was looking in our direction, I nudged Pesca with my elbow. 'You see that tall fat man? Do you know him?'

'No,' said Pesca. 'Is he famous? Why do you point him out?'

'Because I have a reason for wanting to know more about him. He's an Italian, and his name is Count Fosco. Do you know that name? Look — stand on this step so that you can see him better.'

A slim, fair-haired man, with a scar on his left cheek, was standing near us. I saw him look at Pesca, and then follow the direction of his eyes to the Count. Pesca repeated that he did not know him, and as he spoke, the Count looked our way again.

The eyes of the two Italians met.

In that second I was suddenly convinced that, while Pesca may not have known the Count, the Count certainly knew Pesca!

Not only knew him, but — more surprising still — feared him as well. The Count's face had frozen into a dreadful stillness, the cheeks as pale as death, the cold grey eyes staring in terror.

Nearby, the man with the scar also seemed to be watching with interest the effect that Pesca had had on the Count.

'How the fat man stares!' Pesca said, looking round at me. 'But I've never seen him before in my life.'

As Pesca looked away, the Count turned, moving quickly towards the back of the theatre, where the crowd was thickest. I caught Pesca's arm and, to his great surprise, hurried him with me after the Count. The slim man with the scar had apparently also decided to leave, and was already ahead of us. By the time Pesca and I reached the entrance, neither the Count nor the slim man was in sight.

'Pesca,' I said urgently, 'I must speak to you in private. May we go to your lodgings to talk?'

'What on earth is the matter?' cried Pesca.

I hurried him on without answering. The way the Count had left the theatre, his extraordinary anxiety to avoid Pesca, made me fear that he might go even further — and out of my reach.

In Pesca's lodgings, I explained everything as fast as I could, while Pesca stared at me in great confusion and amazement.

'He knows you — he's afraid of you. He left the theatre to escape you,' I said. 'There must be a reason, Pesca! Think of your own life before you came to England. You left Italy for political reasons. I don't ask what they were. But could that man's terror be connected with your past in some way?'

To my inexpressible surprise, these harmless words seemed to terrify Pesca. His face went white and he started to tremble.

'Walter!' he whispered. 'You don't know what you ask.'

I stared at him. 'Pesca, forgive me. I didn't mean to cause you pain. I spoke only because of what my wife has suffered from that man's cruel actions. You must forgive me.'

I rose to go. He stopped me before I reached the door.

'Wait,' he said. 'You saved my life once. You have a right to hear from me what you want to know, even though I could be killed for it. I only ask that, if you find the connection between my past and that man Fosco, you do not tell me.'

Then, his face still pale as the memories of the past crowded in on him, he told me the story.

'In my youth I belonged — and still belong — to a secret political society. Let's call it the Brotherhood, I can't tell you its real name. But I took too many risks and did something which put other members in danger. So I was ordered to go and live in England and to wait. I went — I have waited — I still wait. I could be called away tomorrow, or in ten years. I cannot know.

'The purpose of the Brotherhood is to fight for the rights of the people. There is a president in Italy, and presidents abroad. Each of these has his secretary. The presidents and secretaries know the members, but members don't know each other, until it's considered necessary. Every member of the Brotherhood is identified by a small round mark burnt into the skin, high up on the inside of their left arm.'

He rolled up his sleeve and showed me his own mark.

'If anyone betrays the Brotherhood,' he went on, 'he is a dead man. Another member, a distant stranger or a neighbour, will be ordered to kill him. No one can leave the society — ever.'

Pesca paused, then continued. 'In Italy I was chosen to be secretary. The members at that time were brought face to face with the president, and were also brought face to face with me. You understand me — I see it in your face. But tell me nothing, I beg you! Let me stay free of a responsibility which horrifies me.

'I do not know the man at the opera,' he said finally. 'If he knows me, he is so changed, or disguised, that I do not know him. Leave me now, Walter. I have said enough.'

'I thank you with all my heart, Pesca,' I said. 'You will never, never regret the trust you have placed in me.'

Walking home, my heart beat with excitement. Here at last, surely, was my weapon against the Count! I was convinced he was a member of the Brotherhood, had betrayed it, and believed that he had been recognized tonight. His life was now in danger. What else could explain his extreme terror at seeing Pesca?

And what would he do next? Leave London as fast as he could. If I went to his house and tried to stop him, he would not hesitate to kill me. To protect myself, I had to make his safety depend on mine. I hurried home and wrote this letter to Pesca:

The man at the opera, Fosco, is a member of your society and has betrayed it. Go instantly to his house at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. I am already dead. Use your power against him without delay.

I signed and dated the letter, and wrote on the envelope: Keep until nine o'clock tomorrow morning. If you do not hear from me before then, open the envelope and read the contents.

I then found a messenger, told him to deliver the letter and bring back a note from Professor Pesca to say he had received it. Twenty minutes later I had the note, and as I was leaving, Marian came to the door, looking anxious.

'It's tonight, isn't it?' she said. 'You're going to the Count.'

'Yes, it's the last chance, and the best.'

'Oh, Walter, not alone! Let me go with you. Don't go alone?'

'No, Marian. You must stay here and guard Laura for me. Then I will be easy in my mind when I face the Count.'

*  *  *

As I approached the Count's house, I passed the man with the scar on his cheek, whom I had noticed earlier at the opera. What was he doing here, I wondered?

I sent in my card, and I still do not know why the Count let me into his house at half past eleven at night. Was he just curious to see me? He would not have known that I was at the opera with Pesca, and I suppose he thought he had nothing to fear from me.

He was still in his evening suit, and there was a travelling case on the floor, with books, papers, and clothes all around him. My guess had been right.

'You come here on business, Mr Hartright?' he said, looking at me with curiosity. 'I cannot think what that might be.'

'You are obviously preparing for a journey,' I said. 'That is my business. I know why you are leaving London.'

'So you know why I am leaving London?' He went over to a table and opened a drawer.' Tell me the reason, if you please.'

'I can show you the reason,' I said. 'Roll up the sleeve on your left arm, and you will see it.'

His cold grey eyes stared into mine. There was a long heartbeat of silence. I was as certain as if I had seen it that he had a gun hidden in the drawer, and that my life hung by a thread.

'Wait a little,' I said. 'Before you act, I advise you to read this note.' Moving slowly and carefully, I passed him Pesca's note.

He read the lines aloud.

Your letter is received. If I don't hear from you before nine o'clock, I will open the envelope when the clock strikes.

Another man might have needed an explanation, but not the Count. His expression changed, and he closed the drawer.

'You are cleverer than I thought,' he said. 'I cannot leave before nine as I have to wait for a passport to be delivered. Your information may be true or may be false — where did you get it?'

'I refuse to tell you.'

'And that unsigned note you showed me — who wrote it?'

'A man whom you have every reason to fear.'

A pause. 'What do you want of me, Mr Hartright? Is it to do with a lady, perhaps?'

'Yes, my wife,' I answered.

He looked at me in real amazement, and I saw at once that he no longer considered me a dangerous man. He folded his arms and listened to me with a cold smile.

'You are guilty of a wicked crime,' I went on. 'But you can keep the money. All I want is a signed confession of the plot and a proof of the date my wife travelled to London.'

'Good!' he said. 'Those are your conditions; here are mine. One, Madame Fosco and I leave the house when we please and you do not try to stop us. Two, you wait here until my agent comes early tomorrow morning and you give him an order to get back your letter unopened. You then allow us half an hour to leave the house. Three, you agree to fight me at a place to be arranged later abroad. Do you accept my conditions — yes or no?'

His quick decision, his cleverness and force of character amazed me. For a second I hesitated. Should I let him escape? Yes, the evidence I needed to prove Laura's identity was far more important than revenge.

'I accept your conditions,' I said.

At once, he called for coffee and sat down to write. He wrote quickly for quite some time. Finally, he jumped up, declared that he had finished and read out his statement, which I accepted as satisfactory. He gave me the address of the company from whom he had hired the cab to collect Laura, and also gave me a letter signed by Sir Percival. It was dated 25th July, and announced the journey of Lady Glyde to London on 26th July. So there it was. On 25th July, the date of her death certificate in London, Laura was alive in Hampshire, about to make a journey the next day.

The Count then called in Madame Fosco to watch me while he slept. Early in the morning his agent arrived and I wrote a note for Pesca. An hour later, the agent returned with my unopened letter and the Count's passport.

'Remember the third condition!' the Count said as he left. 'You will hear from me, Mr Hartright.' Then he and the Countess got into the agent's cab with their bags and drove away, leaving the agent with me to make sure I did not follow.

As I watched them leave, another cab went by and I saw inside the man with the scar on his cheek. What was his business with the Count, I wondered? I had seen him too often now for it to be chance. Perhaps I had fought my own battle with the Count just in time. You cannot get a signed confession out of a dead man.

While I waited for the agreed half hour, I read the document that the Count had written for me.


Statement by Isidor Ottavio Baldassare Fosco

In the summer of 1850 I arrived in England on delicate political business and stayed with my friend, Sir Percival Glyde. We both urgently needed large amounts of money. The only person who had such money was his wife, from whom not a penny could be obtained until her death. To make matters worse, my friend had other private problems. A woman called Anne Catherick was hidden in the neighbourhood, was communicating with Lady Glyde, and knew a secret which could ruin him. And if he was ruined, what would happen to our financial interests?

The first thing to do was to find Anne Catherick, who, I was told, looked very much like Lady Glyde and who had escaped from a mad-house. I had the fantastic idea of changing the names, places and lives of Lady Glyde and Anne Catherick, the one with the other. The wonderful results of this change would be the gain of £ 30,000 and the keeping of Sir Percival's secret.

I found Anne Catherick and persuaded her and her friend to return to London. I rented a house in St John's Wood for myself, and obtained from Mr Fairlie in Limmeridge an invitation for Lady Glyde to visit. For my plan to work, it was necessary for Lady Glyde to leave Blackwater Park alone and stay a night at my house on her way to Limmeridge. This plan was made easier by Miss Halcombe's illness. I returned to Blackwater Park, and when Miss Halcombe was out of danger, I got rid of the doctor and instructed Sir Percival to get rid of the servants.

Next, we sent Mrs Michelson away for a few days, and one night Madame Fosco, Mrs Rubelle and I moved the sleeping Miss Halcombe to an unused part of the house. I left for London in the morning with my wife, leaving Sir Percival to persuade Lady Glyde that her sister had gone to Limmeridge and that she should follow her, breaking her journey in London at my house.

On 24th July, with my wife's help, I got hold of Anne Catherick, and took her to my house as Lady Glyde. However, when she saw no one she recognized, she screamed with fear and, to my horror, the shock to her weak heart caused her to collapse. By the end of the following day, she was dead. Dead on the 25th, and Lady Glyde was not due to arrive in London till the 26th!

It was too late to change the plan. I remained calm and carried on. On the 26th, leaving the false Lady Glyde dead in my house, I collected the true Lady Glyde from the railway station and took her to Mrs Rubelle's house. The two medical men I had hired (shall we say) were easily persuaded to certify the confused and frightened Lady Glyde as mentally ill. Then I gave her a drug and had Mrs Rubelle dress her in Anne Catherick's clothes. The next day, the 27th, she was delivered to the asylum, where she was received with great surprise, but without suspicion. The false Lady Glyde was buried at Limmeridge. I attended the funeral with suitable expressions of deep sympathy.

One final question remains. If Anne Catherick had not died when she did, what would I have done? I would, of course, have given her a happy release from the prison of life.


tempt v. to make someone want to have or do something 引诱

contradict v. be in conflict with 与……相矛盾

perform v. act 表演

nudge v. push gently 轻轻地碰

inexpressible adj. that can not be expressed 难以说清的

disguise v. alter the appearance so as to conceal the identity 伪装

curious adj. eager to learn; inquisitive 好奇的

aloud adv. audibly 出声地

agent n. a person who acts for another in business, politics etc. 代理人

delicate adj. tricky 微妙的

fantastic adj. wonderful 绝好的

14.认罪

两个星期之后,我们回到了伦敦。我开始准备与伯爵的较量。现在是5月初,他租房的期限到6月。享受着与劳拉新婚的幸福(我们从未跟她提起过伯爵),有时我忍不住想改变主意,让一切都过去。但是劳拉仍会做梦,可怕的噩梦,她常常在梦里惊叫起来,因此我明白必须继续原来的计划。

首先,我想尽量多了解一些伯爵的事。玛丽安告诉我,他已经很多年没有回意大利了。我想,他是不是由于政治原因被迫离开意大利的呢?但是玛丽安又说,在布莱克沃特庄园他好像收到过贴着意大利邮票的官方来信,这两者是互相矛盾的。也许他是间谍。这样可以解释为什么他在自己的阴谋得逞后,还在英国逗留那么久。有谁能告诉我答案呢?也许该再找个意大利人问问——猛然间我想到了老朋友,佩斯卡教授。

去见佩斯卡教授前,我决定先去看一下伯爵,因为到目前为止,我还从来没有见过他。于是一天早上,我去了圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特大街,在他的住处附近等他出现。最后,他终于出来了,朝伦敦市中心走去。我在后面跟着他。玛丽安跟我提过他身躯肥胖,衣着入时,但我没想到这个人那么精力旺盛,神采飞扬。

在牛津街附近,他停住脚步看一个歌剧的海报,然后走进了不远处的售票处。我过去看了一下海报,发现演出就在晚上,伯爵很可能会出现在观众当中。

我想假如邀请佩斯卡来看歌剧,就可以把伯爵指给他,看他是否认识。于是,我自己买了两张票,给佩斯卡写了封短信,晚上找他一起去看歌剧。

我们进入剧院的时候,音乐已经响起来了,剧场里座无虚席。不过剧场两边还有站的地方。我环顾四周,看到伯爵坐在前面几排的座位上,于是我也站到了那一排,佩斯卡站在我旁边。第一部分演出结束了,观众们,包括伯爵在内,都起身向周围张望。

在伯爵朝我们这个方向看的时候,我用臂肘碰了一下佩斯卡,“看见那个高大的胖子了吗?你认识他吗?”

“不认识,”佩斯卡回答,“他很有名吗?你为什么让我看他?”

“因为我需要更多地了解关于他的情况。他是意大利人,叫福斯科伯爵。你听说过这个名字吗?来,站这个台阶上,你会看得更清楚些。”

一个瘦瘦的金发男子站在我们的旁边,他的左脸上有一道疤。我注意到他看了看佩斯卡,又顺着佩斯卡的视线看了看伯爵。佩斯卡再一次对我说,他不认识那个人,就在他说话的时候,伯爵朝我们这边看过来。

这两个意大利人的目光相遇了。

那一瞬间,我敢肯定地说,佩斯卡可能不认识伯爵,但伯爵一定认识佩斯卡!

不仅是认识,更令人惊奇的是伯爵害怕佩斯卡。伯爵脸上的表情凝固了,像死人一样毫无血色,冷酷的灰眼睛恐惧地盯着这边。

脸上有疤的人似乎饶有兴趣地在一旁看着佩斯卡对伯爵的影响。

“那个胖子怎么那样看着我!”佩斯卡说,转过头看着我,“我从未见过他呀。”

佩斯卡扭头的时候,伯爵转身快步向剧场后边走去,那里人最多。我一把抓住佩斯卡的胳膊,不顾他的惊讶,拉着他紧追伯爵。那个脸上有疤的瘦子显然也准备离开剧场,并且已经走到了我们的前面。等我和佩斯卡赶到入口,伯爵和那个瘦子都已经不见了。

“佩斯卡,”我赶忙说,“我必须和你单独谈谈,我们到你的住处去谈可以吗?”

“这到底是怎么回事?”佩斯卡大声说。

我没回答,只是催着他赶紧走。伯爵离开剧场的样子,还有他迫不及待地要躲避佩斯卡,使我担心他可能会逃得更远——我可能再也找不到他了。

到了佩斯卡的住处,我以最快的速度向他讲述了事情的经过,他充满迷惑和惊讶地望着我。

他认识你——他很怕你。他离开剧场就是要逃避你,”我说,“这其中一定有原因,佩斯卡!回忆一下你来英国以前的经历。你是由于政治原因离开意大利的,我不是问你那些政治原因,不过那个人如此惊慌会不会同你的过去有什么关联?”

令我非常吃惊的是,这些本来无关紧要的话好像令佩斯卡非常惊恐。他的脸色变得煞白,身体开始颤抖。

“沃尔特!”他低声说,“你不知道你问了什么。”

我两眼紧盯着他,“佩斯卡,请原谅。我不是有意要给你带来痛苦,我说那些话只是因为那个人给我妻子带来了巨大的伤害。请你原谅我。”

我起身要离开,还没走到门口,他叫住了我。

“等一下,”他说,“你救过我的命,你有权从我这里知道你想要知道的东西,即使这会要了我的命。我唯一的请求是,即使你发现了我的过去同那个福斯科的关系,你也不要告诉我。”

接着,他开始讲他的经历,过去的记忆卷土重来,令他脸色煞白。

“我年轻的时候参加了一个秘密政治社团,现在还是它的成员。我们姑且叫它兄弟社团,我不能告诉你真实的名称。我当时完成了很多出生入死的任务,也做了一些给其他成员带来危险的事,所以社团命令我到英国待命。我服从命令来了英国——一直在等——现在还在等。我可能明天就被召回,也许是10年以后。我不知道。

“兄弟社团的宗旨是为人民争取权利。它在意大利有一个主席,国外有很多主席。每个主席都有秘书。主席和秘书认识所有的成员,但除非在必要的情况下,成员们彼此都不认识。每个兄弟社团成员的左臂内侧靠上的地方都有一个很小的圆形烙印,这是他们的记号。”

他卷起衣袖,给我看他自己的烙印。

“任何人背叛了兄弟社团,”他接着说,“他肯定会被处死。其他成员,也许是一个他不认识的陌生人,也许是他的邻居,会奉命杀死他。任何人不能退出社团——永远都不可以。”

佩斯卡停了一会儿又说:“在意大利,我被选为秘书,所有的成员那时都被带来见主席,当然也就见到了。你明白了我的意思——我从你的表情看出来了。但是,什么也别跟我说,求你了!我不想做我必须做的事,我感到害怕。

“我不认识剧场的那个人,”他最后说,“如果他认识,那他一定跟以前变化很大,或者伪装了自己,让我认不出来了。你现在走吧,沃尔特。我说得够多了。”

“我衷心地感谢你,佩斯卡,”我说,“你永远不会为信任我而后悔的。”

走在回家的路上,我的心情激动不已。我终于找到了对付伯爵的武器。我敢肯定他原来是一个兄弟社团成员,后来背叛了社团,他认为自己今晚被认出来了。现在他的生命很危险。不然他见到佩斯卡为什么那样害怕呢?

那他接着会做什么呢?尽快离开伦敦。如果我去他的住处拦住他,他肯定会毫不犹豫地杀了我。为保护我自己,我必须让他的生命安全地攥在我的手里。我赶忙回到家,给佩斯卡写了一封信:

剧场的那个人,福斯科,是你们社团的一个成员,他背叛了社团。赶快到他的住处圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特街5号。我已经死了。请用你的力量立即干掉他。

我签了名,写上日期,又在信封上写道:等到明天上午9点。如果到那时还没有我的消息,再打开信封读里面的内容。

然后,我找了一个信使,叫他把信送走并带回佩斯卡的回复,说他已经收到信了。20分钟后,我拿到了回复的纸条。我刚要离开,玛丽安出现在门口,脸上露出担忧的表情。

“就是今天晚上吗?”她说,“你要去找伯爵。”

“对,这是最后的机会,也是最好的机会。”

“噢,沃尔特,别一个人去!让我跟你去吧,不要一个人去!”

“不行,玛丽安。你必须留在这里替我保护劳拉。那样,我面对伯爵的时候才会放心。”

*  *  *

快到伯爵住处的时候,我碰见了脸上有疤的那个人,早些时候在剧场就见过他。他在这儿做什么,我心里很纳闷。

我把名片递进去,我到现在也不明白,为什么夜里11点半伯爵还让我进去。他对我好奇,想见我?他并不知道我和佩斯卡同在剧场,我猜想他觉得我没有什么好怕的。

他还穿着晚礼服,地上有一个旅行箱,他周围满是书籍、文件和衣服。我猜的没错。

“你来这里有事,哈特里特先生?”他一边说,一边用好奇的眼光打量我,“我想不出会是什么事。”

“你像是在准备出门旅行,”我说,“这就是我来的原因。我知道你为什么要离开伦敦。”

“你知道我为什么要离开伦敦?”他走到一张桌旁,打开抽屉,“如果你愿意,说说为什么。”

“我可以让你看看为什么,”我说,“把你左边的衣袖卷起,就能看到。”

他那冷酷的灰眼睛一动不动地盯着我。接下来是一阵令人紧张的寂静。我就像亲眼所见一样清楚,那抽屉里藏着枪,我现在命悬一线。

“等一下,”我说,“你动手之前,我建议你看看这个纸条。”我慢慢地、小心翼翼地把佩斯卡的纸条递给他。

他出声读着纸条。

你的信收到了。如果9点以前没有你的消息,9点整,钟一响我就打开信封。

假如换作另外一个人,可能需要一些解释,但伯爵不需要。他脸上的表情变了,他关上了抽屉。

“你比我想的要聪明,”他说,“我9点以前走不了,我得等人给我送护照来。你得到的信息可能是真的,也可能是假的。你是从哪儿知道的?”

“我不会告诉你的。”

“你给我的没有签名的纸条是谁写的?”

“一个你非常害怕的人。”

他停了一会儿,“你要我做什么,哈特里特先生?是不是跟一位女士有关?”

“是的,是我妻子。”我回答。

他非常吃惊地看着我。看得出他不再认为我会给他带来危险了。他双手交叉抱在胸前,面带冷笑听我继续说下去。

“你犯下了严重的罪行,”我接着说道,“但是,你可以留着你得到的钱。我只要一个由你签名的认罪书,还有我妻子回伦敦的日期证明。”

“好!”他说,“这是你的条件,我的条件是:第一,福斯科夫人和我在我们愿意的时候离开这里,你不要阻止我们。第二,你呆在这里,明天一早我的代理人过来,你让他取回那封还没有打开的信。然后,你要给我们半个小时的时间离开这里。第三,你答应跟我在国外找一个地方决斗。你接受我的条件吗——是还是否?”

他的迅速决断,他的精干和意志力令我震惊。我犹豫了一会儿。我应该让他逃走吗?是的,证明劳拉身份的证据比复仇重要得多。

“我接受你的条件。”我说。

他随即叫人拿来咖啡,坐下开始写。他落笔如飞,写了很长时间。最后,他站起来,说他已经写完了并念给我听。我觉得还满意。他给了我他租车接劳拉的那家公司的地址,同时给我的还有珀西瓦尔爵士签名的一封信。信的日期是7月25日,里面说格莱德夫人将于7月26日启程去伦敦。这就是证据。7月25日,即死亡证明上宣告劳拉死于伦敦的日子,劳拉还在汉普郡活着准备第二天的旅行。

然后,伯爵把福斯科夫人叫进来,让她看着我,他自己去睡觉。第二天一早,他的代理人来了,我给佩斯卡写了封短信。一个小时后,代理人拿着我那封没打开的信和护照回来了。

“别忘了第三个条件!”伯爵临走时说,“你会收到我的信的,哈特里特先生。”说完,他和伯爵夫人坐上代理人的马车离开了这里,代理人留下来,确保我不跟踪他们。

我看着他们离开,这时另一辆马车驶过去,车里坐着那个脸上有疤的人。他和伯爵有什么瓜葛?我看到他好几次了,不应该是巧合。或许我跟伯爵的较量正是时候。他要是死了,我就没法得到他签名的笔录了。

在约定的半小时里,我读了伯爵写给我的认罪书。

伊西多·奥塔维奥·鲍尔德塞尔·福斯科的证词

1850年夏天,由于微妙的政治原因我来到英国,同我的朋友珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士住在一起。我们两人都急需一大笔钱。唯一拥有这笔钱的人是他妻子,但是他妻子不死,我们一分钱也得不到。更糟糕的是,我的朋友又遇到了别的麻烦事。一个叫安妮·凯瑟里克的女人藏在我们附近,她在同格莱德夫人接触,并且掌握着一个可以毁掉珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。如果他完蛋了,那我们的经济利益怎么办呢?

我们要做的第一件事就是找到安妮·凯瑟里克。我了解到她的长相和格莱德夫人极为相似。她是从精神病院逃出来的。我突发奇想,把格莱德夫人同安妮·凯瑟里克的名字、住处、经历互换一下。互换的结果既可以让我们得到3万英镑,又能够保住珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。

我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,说服她和她的朋友回伦敦去。我自己在圣约翰伍德租了房子,同时从利默里奇的费尔利先生那里得到了邀请格莱德夫人去看望他的信。要实现我的计划,必须让格莱德夫人一个人离开布莱克沃特庄园,在去往利默里奇的途中在我家里住一夜。哈尔库姆小姐的病让我的计划更容易进行了。我回到布莱克沃特庄园,等哈尔库姆小姐一脱离危险,就辞退了医生,并且让珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了所有仆人。

下一步,我们让米切尔森太太离开庄园几天。一天晚上,福斯科夫人、鲁贝尔太太和我把昏睡中的哈尔库姆小姐抬到了一个没有人住的房间里。转天一早,我和夫人赶往伦敦,留下珀西瓦尔爵士劝说格莱德夫人,让她相信她姐姐已经去了利默里奇,她也应该去找她,途中在伦敦我的家休息。

7月24日,在我妻子的协助下,我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,把她带到我的住处,假装就是格莱德夫人。然而,当安妮·凯瑟里克看到没有一个她认识的人时,吓得叫了起来。令我非常害怕的是,惊吓使她脆弱的心脏无法承受,转天她就死了。她是25日死的,可是格莱德夫人26日才能到伦敦!

改变计划已经来不及了。我尽量保持头脑冷静,继续着原来的计划。26日,我把已死的假格莱德夫人留在家里,到车站去接真正的格莱德夫人,带她到鲁贝尔太太家。我雇用的(可以这样说)两个医生很容易就被说服了,他们证明迷惑而惊恐的格莱德夫人患了精神病。而后,我给她吃了镇静药,让鲁贝尔太太给她穿上安妮·凯瑟里克的衣服。第二天,也就是27日,格莱德夫人被送进精神病院,那里的人非常吃惊,但没有人怀疑。假格莱德夫人被埋葬在利默里奇。我出席了葬礼,表现出应有的悲伤与同情。

还有最后一个问题,如果安妮·凯瑟里克没有死的话,我会怎么办呢?我当然很高兴帮她摆脱牢笼般的人生。

15
The proof

When the half hour had passed, I returned home. After a brief explanation to Laura and Marian, I hurried back to St John's Wood to find the cab-driver whom the Count had hired to collect Laura at the station. He wrote me a statement, which he and a witness signed, saying that on 26th July 1850 he had driven a Count Fosco to the railway station where they had collected a Lady Glyde. He remembered Lady Glyde's name, he said, from the labels on her luggage.

Then I went to Mr Kyrle's office and presented him with the proof of Laura's identity — the letter from Sir Percival, the statement by the cab-driver, the confession by the Count, and the death certificate. Amazed, he congratulated me, and agreed to accompany us to Limmeridge the next day, where I intended to have Laura publicly received and recognized.

Early the next morning Laura, Marian, Mr Kyrle and I took the train to Limmeridge. Laura and Marian stayed at first in a hotel while Mr Kyrle and I went to the house to deal with Mr Fairlie. He complained like a child, saying how was he to know his niece was alive when he was told she was dead? Between us, the lawyer and I made him sign letters calling all those who had attended the false funeral to come to the house the next day.

As I led Laura into her childhood home the following morning, there was a murmur of surprise and interest from the waiting crowd of villagers and neighbours. The business was soon done. I read out the story of the plot against Laura, and Mr Kyrle announced that everything I had said was proved by the strongest evidence. I put my arm around Laura, raised her up, and called to the crowd:

'Are you all agreed that this is the Laura Fairlie you knew?'

'There she is, alive and well — God bless her!' It was an old man at the back of the room who began it, and in an instant everybody was shouting and cheering together.

Later, in the churchyard, we watched a stone worker remove Laura's name from the gravestone. In its place he put this:

ANNE CATHERICK

25TH JULY 1850

We returned to London the following day, happy in the thought that the long struggle was now over.

*  *  *

Several days later Pesca came to see me, and asked for a quiet word in my ear. He had just returned from Paris.

'I have news for you, my friend,' he said. 'You need not worry any more about the man at the opera. His body was found in the river Seine yesterday and now lies in the morgue in Paris. He was killed by knife wounds to the heart.'

'Count Fosco is dead?' I said, amazed. 'Are you sure?'

'I saw the body with my own eyes. He was wearing a French workman's clothes, and had a different name, of course, but he was the fat man we saw at the opera that night. No question.'

'But how do you know this?' I asked.

Pesca hesitated. 'A man brought me some information,' he said. 'I had to see the body, and send a report about it.'

'A man,' I said. 'What kind of man?'

'A stranger,' said Pesca. 'I didn't know him. A man with a scar on his left cheek.' He saw the understanding in my face, and held up his hand. 'No more questions, my friend. Please!'

We never spoke about it again, but I think Pesca was telling me that the Brotherhood had taken their revenge. And so Count Fosco, that extraordinary, evil man, passed from this world.

*  *  *

The following year our first child was born — a son. Six months later my newspaper sent me to Ireland and, when I returned, I found a note from my wife saying she and Marian and little Walter had gone to Limmeridge House. She begged me to follow as soon as possible. Very surprised, I caught the next train. When I got there, Marian and Laura told me Mr Fairlie was dead and that Mr Kyrle had advised them to go to Limmeridge House.

Laura came close to me and I half realized some great change was happening in our lives.

'Do you know who this is, Walter?' Marian asked, holding up my little son, with tears of happiness in her eyes. 'This is the boy who will one day inherit Limmeridge House.'

So she spoke. In writing those last words, I have written everything. Marian was the good friend of our lives — let Marian end our story.


label n. a small piece of paper, card etc. attached to an object and giving information about it 标签

congratulate v. express pleasure at the happiness or good fortune or excellence of a person 祝贺

morgue n. a room or building in which dead bodies may be kept until burial or cremation 停尸间

15.证据

alt

那半个小时过去了,我回到家里。简单地向劳拉和玛丽安说明了情况后,我立即赶回圣约翰伍德去找那个伯爵雇来到车站接劳拉的车夫。那人给我写了份证词,他和另一个证人都签了字。证词说,1850年7月26日他驾车送福斯科伯爵去车站,接了一位格莱德夫人。他说还记得格莱德夫人的名字,是在行李标签上看到的。

然后,我去了克尔先生的办公室,给他看了证明劳拉身份的证据——珀西瓦尔爵士的信、马车夫的证词、伯爵的认罪书和那份死亡证明。克尔先生很吃惊,接着向我表示祝贺并且答应第二天陪我们到利默里奇,我准备让人们公开地接受和认可劳拉。

转天的一大早,劳拉、玛丽安、克尔先生和我乘火车前往利默里奇。劳拉和玛丽安先在一家旅店里休息,克尔先生和我去庄园与费尔利先生交涉。费尔利先生像孩子一样抱怨说,有人告诉他他侄女死了,他怎么会知道他侄女还活着?在只有我们三个人的情况下,克尔先生和我让他在事先准备好的信上签字,邀请所有参加那场假葬礼的人第二天到费尔利家来。

第二天早晨,当我带着劳拉走进她儿时的家时,等候在那里的村民和邻居们发出惊奇的低语声。很快我们进入了正题。我大声宣读了针对劳拉的罪恶阴谋的全过程,克尔先生当众宣布我说的每一件事都证据确凿。我搂住劳拉,扶她起来,高声对众人说:

“你们说这是不是你们认识的劳拉·费尔利?”

“是她,她还好好地活着——上帝保佑她!”一位站在屋子后面的老人首先说,其他人也都立刻欢呼起来。

后来,在教堂墓地里,我们亲眼看着一位石匠把劳拉的名字从墓碑上凿去,在原来的地方刻上:

安妮·凯瑟里克

卒于1850年7月25日

转天,我们返回了伦敦,想到漫长的斗争终于结束了,我们都非常高兴。

*  *  *

过了几天,佩斯卡来看我,要跟我单独聊聊。他刚从巴黎回来。

“我有重要的消息要告诉你,我的朋友,”他说,“你不用再担心剧场里的那个人了,昨天在塞纳河发现了他的尸体,现在他的尸体停放在巴黎的停尸间。他是被人用刀子刺进心脏而死的。”

“福斯科伯爵已经死了?”我吃惊地问,“你能肯定吗?”

“我亲眼看了他的尸体,他穿着法国工人的制服,当然也换了名字,但他就是那天晚上我们在剧场见到的那个胖子。一点儿没错。”

“可你是怎么知道这个消息的呢?”我问。

佩斯卡犹豫了一下。“有人告诉我的,”他说,“我必须亲眼看到他的尸体,然后发一个报告。”

“有人,”我说,“是什么人?”

“一个陌生人,”佩斯卡回答,“我不认识那个人,他的左脸上有一道疤。”看到我脸上了然的表情,他抬了抬手,“请不要多问了,我的朋友!”

我们再没有提起这件事,不过我想佩斯卡是要告诉我兄弟社团已经采取了复仇行动。就这样,福斯科伯爵,那个能力不俗的恶徒从这个世界上消失了。

*  *  *

第二年,我们的第一个孩子出世了——是个儿子。6个月以后,我供职的那家报社派我去了爱尔兰。我回来的时候,看到妻子留给我的一封短信,信上说她和玛丽安还有小沃尔特去了利默里奇庄园。她让我尽快去找他们。我感到很惊讶,赶下一班火车去了那里。我到那儿之后,玛丽安和劳拉告诉我费尔利先生去世了,是克尔先生建议她们到利默里奇庄园去的。

劳拉走到我身边,我朦胧地意识到我们的生活将要发生什么大事。

“你知道这是谁吗,沃尔特?”玛丽安一边举起我的小儿子,一边问我,眼睛里充满了喜悦的泪水,“这个孩子将来有一天会继承利默里奇庄园。”

她就是这样说的。写完了最后几句话,我的讲述就到这里了。玛丽安是我们的终生好友——就让她结束我们的故事吧。

调查

PART THREE
THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
第三部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

9
The gravestone

On 13th October 1850 I left the wild forests of Central America and returned to England. I had escaped death by disease, death by war, and death by drowning, and hoped that these experiences had strengthened me to face my future — a future without Laura Fairlie. I still remembered her as Laura Fairlie, and could not think of her by her husband's name.

The first thing I did was to visit my mother and sister in their Hampstead cottage. The joy of our meeting, however, soon turned to sadness. I have no secrets from my mother, and when I saw the loving pity in her eyes, I feared the worst.

The news was soon told. I tried hard not to let my sorrow spoil the happiness of my return for my mother and sister, but by the third day I knew I had to go away alone for a while.

'Let me go up to Limmeridge,' I begged my mother. 'I can bear it better when I have seen her grave.'

It was a warm autumn afternoon when I arrived at the station and walked down the familiar road, seeing in the distance the high white walls of Limmeridge House. In the churchyard I found the grave and knelt down beside the gravestone, closing my eyes.

Oh my love! My Love! My dear, dear Love!

Hours passed, and the evening sunlight threw long shadows among the sleeping places of the dead. I had lost all sense of time, kneeling there. Then, in the silence, I heard the soft sound of footsteps on the grass.

I looked up.

Beyond me, standing together by the churchyard wall, were two women, their veils down, hiding their faces. They were looking towards the grave, looking towards me.

Two.

They came closer, and stopped. One of them lifted her veil, and in the still evening light I saw the face of Marian Halcombe. A changed face. Thin and pale, full of pain and fear.

The woman with the veiled face came towards me slowly. Marian Halcombe sank to her knees, murmuring, 'Oh God, help him! Please, please help him, God!'

The veiled woman came on, slowly and silently. I looked at her — at her, and at no one else, from that moment. She had possession of me, body and soul. She stopped by the side of the gravestone, and we stood face to face with the grave between us.

'Oh God, help him, help him!'

The woman lifted her veil.

In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde...

Laura, Lady Glyde, was standing by the gravestone, looking at me over her grave.

*  *  *

A life suddenly changed. A new future before me, like the sunlit view from a mountain top. I leave my story in the quiet shadow of Limmeridge church, and begin again, one week later, in the noise and rush of a London street.

I have rented rooms under a different name. Marian and Laura, using the same name, are said to be my sisters. I earn our bread by doing drawings for cheap magazines. We employ no servant; my elder sister, Marian, does the housework with her own hands. Marian and I are known to be the friends of mad Anne Catherick (address unknown), who falsely claims the identity of Lady Glyde. To the rest of the world, Laura, Lady Glyde, is dead. Dead to her uncle, who has refused to recognize her; dead to the lawyers, who have passed her fortune to her husband and aunt.

But to Marian and me she is alive! Penniless and sadly changed — her beauty faded, her mind confused — but alive, with her poor drawing teacher to fight her battles and to win her way back to the world of living beings. She is mine at last — mine to support, to protect, to defend. And mine to love.


drown v. to kill by submerging and suffocating in liquid 淹死;溺死

strengthen v. make stronger 变得坚强

veil n. a piece of fabric attached to a woman's hat 面纱

earn one's bread earn one's living 维持生计

penniless adj. having no money 身无分文的

9.墓碑

1850年10月13日我离开中美洲的原始森林,回到了英国。我一次次逃过疾病、战争和洪水带来的死亡危险。我希望这些经历能够使我更加坚强地面对未来——没有劳拉的未来。在我心里她依然是劳拉·费尔利,我无法把她冠以她丈夫的姓氏。

我回来后的第一件事是到汉普斯特德看望母亲和妹妹。欢聚的快乐很快转化为悲伤。我没有任何秘密瞒着母亲,从她充满爱怜和同情的眼光里,我预感到最坏的事情发生了。

她们把消息告诉了我。我尽最大努力不让自己的悲哀破坏我回家带给母亲和妹妹的喜悦。但是,回来的第三天,我觉得必须一个人离开一段时间。

“让我到利默里奇去一趟吧,”我恳求着母亲,“看到她的坟墓,我可以更好地接受这一切。”

那是一个秋日的午后,天气很暖和,我到达目的地车站,走在熟悉的大路上,望着远处利默里奇庄园的白色高墙。在教堂墓地里,我找到了劳拉的墓,在她的墓碑前跪下来,闭上了双眼。

我的爱人我的爱人我最亲爱的人

几个小时过去了,落日的余辉在死者的安息地投下长长的影子。我跪在那里,完全没有了时间概念。这时,寂静中传来人走在草地上的脚步声。

我抬起头来。

不远处,教堂墓地的围墙边站着两个女人,面纱遮住了她们的脸。她们正朝墓地张望,正朝张望。

两个女人。

她们朝我走来。其中一个掀起了面纱,借着仅有的一点儿光线,我看出那是玛丽安·哈尔库姆小姐。她的脸变得跟从前不一样了:清瘦而苍白,充满了痛苦和恐惧。

头戴面纱的女人缓慢地向我走来。玛丽安·哈尔库姆跪下来,轻声说:“噢,上帝,帮帮他吧,帮帮他吧,上帝!”

头戴面纱的女人向我走来,缓慢地,无言地向我走来。我注视着她——目不转睛地久久注视着她。她占据了我的一切,我的灵魂和肉体。她在墓碑前停住脚步,我们隔着坟墓互相注视着。

“噢,上帝,帮帮他,帮帮他吧!”

那个女人掀起了面纱。

爱妻劳拉·格莱德夫人之墓……

劳拉·格莱德夫人,她就站在墓碑旁,隔着坟墓望着我。

alt

*  *  *

生活突然间变了。一个崭新的未来展现在我的面前,就像在山顶上看到的撒满阳光的景色。我把过去的故事留在了利默里奇教堂那寂静的阴影中,一星期后在喧闹、繁忙的伦敦开始了新的生活。

我换了一个姓氏租了房子。玛丽安和劳拉也用同样的姓氏,对外人就说是我的姐妹。我靠给廉价杂志画画维持生计。我们没有请仆人,我的姐姐,玛丽安亲自做家务。我和玛丽安对外就说是疯女人安妮·凯瑟里克(住址不详)的朋友,那疯女人总说自己是格莱德夫人。对世界上其他人来说,劳拉·格莱德夫人已经死了;对拒不承认她的叔叔,她已经死了;对把她的财产转给她丈夫和姑妈的律师,她也已经死了。

但是对于玛丽安和我,她还活着!她身无分文,人也变了——她的美丽在消逝,头脑一片混乱——但她还活着,她那可怜的绘画教师要为她奋争,使她重新回到真实的生活中来。她终于属于我了——由我供养、呵护、保护,由我所爱。

10
The rescue

At the first opportunity we had, Marian told me everything that had happened to her and Laura. The hardest part for her was after she had returned to Limmeridge House.

'I was in despair, Walter,' she said. 'Mr Kyrle's investigation was finished, and had shown nothing, he said. Mr Fairlie was no help at all — I heard that he didn't even leave his room to go to the funeral! But he did show me a letter he'd received from Count Fosco, which contained news of Anne Catherick. The Count said that Anne Catherick had been found and put back in the asylum from which she had escaped. But because she hated Sir Percival and wanted to make trouble for him, she was now claiming that she was not Anne Catherick at all, but Lady Glyde. The Count warned Mr Fairlie that if she escaped again, she might try to annoy members of Lady Glyde's family.

'I wasn't well enough to do anything for about a month after returning to Limmeridge, but when I felt stronger, I decided to make some investigations myself. First, I planned to visit the asylum in London and talk to poor Anne Catherick, to find out why she was claiming to be Laura. I knew the address because you had given it to me, all those months ago.

'Well, Walter, you can guess what's coming, I'm sure. The director of the asylum, who seemed an honest person, told me that Anne Catherick had been brought back on 27th July. He was puzzled by some odd personal changes in her, but assumed they were caused by her mental illness. He then called a nurse to take me to Anne Catherick, who was walking in the gardens.

'Imagine the shock, Walter — seeing my dead sister walking towards me in that garden! We just ran into each other's arms, unable to say a word. How the nurse stared at us!'

'I think I know how you must have felt,' I said. 'I shall never forget in the churchyard at Limmeridge... But tell me, however did you get Laura out of the asylum?'

'Bribery, Walter. I didn't want to risk a legal battle and all the delay that would involve, so I persuaded the nurse that a terrible mistake had been made and she would be doing a good thing in helping Anne Catherick escape. And I offered her £400. The plan went smoothly, and by early afternoon the next day Laura and I were on the train to Cumberland.'

'And Laura?' I asked. 'What actually happened on the day she left Blackwater Park and came to London?'

Marian sighed. 'Oh, Walter, it's not at all clear. Poor Laura's mind is so confused now that her memory of events is very unreliable. She can't even remember the date she left Blackwater. All she has been able to tell me is this. The Count met her at the station, and said that I was still in London and that he would take her to see me at once. She doesn't remember where the cab went, but it was clearly not to his house in St John's Wood. She was taken to a house in a narrow street, where people came and went, asking her questions she didn't understand. At this point the Count told her I was now very ill; she was so frightened by this news she nearly fainted. Someone then gave her a glass of water, which she said tasted odd — and after that she lost consciousness.'

'Poor, poor Laura,' I murmured.

'She woke up,' Marian continued, 'in the asylum, unable to leave, unable to make contact with the outside world. She was called by Anne Catherick's name and found she was wearing clothes with Anne Catherick's name on them. She was told Lady Glyde was dead and buried, and that she was Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick... Day in, day out, from 27th July to 15th October, she was made to feel that she was mad. It's hardly surprising her mind is so confused now.'

'And what happened at Limmeridge?' I asked.

Marian turned her face away. 'I can't bear to think about it,' she said. 'The worst part was taking Laura into Mr Fairlie's room. He looked straight into Laura's face and said, "My niece is buried in Limmeridge churchyard. I don't recognize this woman. Remove her from my house before I call on the law to protect me." Even the servants were doubtful about her identity, because she was so much changed and so confused by her experiences. Perhaps people would have been persuaded if we'd stayed longer, but I didn't dare risk it. At any minute the people from the asylum might come looking for us, so I decided to return to London at once and hide. Then, as we were passing the churchyard, Laura insisted on a last look at her mother's grave. And... well, that moment changed our three lives.'

'I think God was guiding Laura's footsteps,' I said.

How well I remember that day — that moment when Laura laid her poor head innocently and trustingly on my shoulder, and said, 'They have tried to make me forget everything, Walter, but I remember Marian, and I remember you.'

*  *  *

The plot against Laura was now clear. Anne Catherick had been taken into Count Fosco's house as Lady Glyde, and Lady Glyde had taken the dead woman's place in the asylum. It was also clear that the three of us could expect no mercy from Count Fosco and Sir Percival, who between them had gained £30,000 from the plot. They would do everything in their power to prevent their crime being discovered, and would hunt for their victim to separate her from her only friends — Marian and myself. This is why I had chosen a poor and crowded part of London to live in. It is easier to hide in a place where people are always coming and going.

Our life quickly took on a regular pattern — work, watching out for our enemies, and care of Laura, whom we surrounded with a gentle, protective love, helping her slowly but steadily to recover her balance of mind and her self-confidence.

Meanwhile, Marian and I began the battle. We studied the statements that Mr Kyrle had taken from witnesses — the doctor, and the servants and cook in Count Fosco's house. I obtained a copy of Lady Glyde's death certificate, and Marian wrote to Mrs Michelson, who replied, saying that she could not remember the exact date of Laura's departure from Blackwater Park. Nor could she remember when the letter announcing Laura's death, which was undated, had arrived from Madame Fosco.

I also arranged to visit Mr Kyrle, to ask for his help. After listening to my long explanation, the lawyer shook his head.

'My legal opinion, Mr Hartright, is that you won't win this case in a court of law. I accept, of course, that the identity of Lady Glyde as a living person is a proved fact to Miss Halcombe and yourself. But there is no evidence. If you could prove that the date on the death certificate was earlier than the date of Lady Glyde's journey to London, then you might have a case.'

As I left, he gave me a letter that had been delivered to him for Marian, and told me, in answer to my question, that Sir Percival Glyde had returned to London.

Outside in the street I soon noticed two men following me, and realized too late that the Count's spies must have been watching the lawyer's office, in the hope that Marian or I would go there. I went home by a very long route and managed to lose them, but it was a warning to me to be more careful.

Marian was very worried when I told her about the two men. Then I gave her the letter. She recognized the writing instantly.

'It's from Count Fosco.'


Dear and admirable woman, do not be afraid! Stay hidden, with your gentle companion, and nothing will happen to you. Challenge nothing, threaten nobody. Do not, I beg you, force me into action. If Mr Hartright returns to England, do not speak to him. If he crosses my path, he is a Lost man. F.


'Walter!' Marian said, her eyes flashing with anger. 'If ever the Count and Sir Percival are at your mercy and you must spare one of them, don't let it be the Count.'

'I'll keep this letter to remind me when the time comes,' I said. 'But tomorrow I will go to Blackwater, to try and find out the date of Laura's journey to London. It's the one weak point in their plot.'

'You mean that perhaps Laura did not leave for London until after the date on the death certificate?'

'Exactly. I think she left on 26th July. The Director of the asylum said she was taken there on the 27th. I doubt if they could have kept her drugged more than one night. We know from Mrs Michelson that Sir Percival left on the same day as Laura. I'll ask everyone in the village if they remember when he left.'

'And if that fails?'

'If that fails, Marian, I'll force a confession from Sir Percival. We have one weapon against him — his secret. Anne Catherick said that if his secret was known, it would ruin him. I intend to find out that secret. The woman in white, though dead in her grave, is still with us and is showing us the way!'


bribery n. persuading a person to act in one's favor by a gift of money or services 贿赂

unreliable adj. not liable 不可靠的

plot n. a conspiracy or secret plan esp. to achieve an unlawful end 阴谋

mercy n. kindness, pity, and willingness to forgive 仁慈

cross one's path meet sb by chance 与…偶然相遇

flash v. burst 闪烁

10.营救

我们刚一有机会交谈,玛丽安就把她和劳拉的遭遇从头到尾讲给我听。最令她难过的是回到利默里奇之后的经历。

“我太绝望了,沃尔特,”她说,“克尔先生的调查结束了,他说什么也没发现。费尔利先生一点儿忙也不帮——我听说他甚至都没离开他的房间去参加葬礼!不过他倒是把福斯科伯爵的信给了我,信里面有安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。伯爵说安妮·凯瑟里克已经找到了,被送回了原来的精神病院。但是,凯瑟里克因为痛恨珀西瓦尔爵士,想给他找麻烦,所以她现在自称不是安妮·凯瑟里克,而是格莱德夫人。伯爵提醒费尔利先生,假如她再逃出来,很可能要给格莱德夫人的家人添乱子。

“回来的头一个月,我身体虚弱,什么也干不了。后来身体恢复了,我决定亲自去调查。首先,我准备去伦敦的精神病院找可怜的安妮·凯瑟里克谈谈,弄清楚为什么她要自称是劳拉。我知道地址,是你几个月前给我的。

“噢,沃尔特,我相信你能猜到接下来发生的事情。精神病院的院长看上去是个正直的人,他告诉我,安妮·凯瑟里克是7月27日被送回来的。他对凯瑟里克身上的变化感到很困惑,但他推测是由于精神方面的疾病造成的。然后,他叫一名护士带我去见安妮·凯瑟里克,她正在花园散步。

“想象一下,当时我有多么震惊,沃尔特——我看到自己死去的妹妹在花园里朝我走来!我们跑向对方,紧紧地抱在一起,一句话也说不出来。护士不解地望着我们。”

“我很清楚你当时的心情,”我说,“我永远不会忘记在利默里奇教堂墓地……可是,你是怎么把劳拉救出精神病院的呢?”

“贿赂,沃尔特。我不想打官司,那样太冒险,也会耽误很长时间。所以,我对护士说,这里一定有严重的误会,如果她能帮助安妮·凯瑟里克逃走,就做了一件天大的好事。之后,我给了她400英镑。计划进行得很顺利,第二天刚过中午,我和劳拉就乘上了开往坎伯兰郡的火车。”

“那么,劳拉呢?”我问,“她离开布莱克沃特庄园到伦敦后,到底发生了什么?”

玛丽安叹了口气,“噢,沃尔特,现在还不清楚。可怜的劳拉思维很乱,她的记忆不可靠。她连离开布莱克沃特的日期都记不起来。她能告诉我的就是,伯爵在车站接她,告诉她我还在伦敦,他要带劳拉马上去见我。她不记得车往哪里走了,但是很明显不是去伯爵在圣约翰伍德的家。她被带进一条小巷里的一间房子,那里人来人往,问一些她听不懂的问题。这时,伯爵告诉她我病得很严重,她听了非常害怕,几乎昏了过去。接着有人给了她一杯水,她说水的味道很怪,之后她就失去了知觉。”

“可怜的劳拉。”我低声自语着。

“她醒来以后,”玛丽安接着说,“发现自己在精神病院里,既不能离开,也无法同外界接触。别人叫她安妮·凯瑟里克,她发现自己穿着有安妮·凯瑟里克名字的衣服。别人告诉她格莱德夫人已经死了,被安葬了,她就是安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克……一天又一天,从7月27日到10月15日,他们强迫她认为自己疯了。难怪现在她思维混乱。”

“在利默里奇发生了什么?”我问道。

玛丽安把头转向一侧。“我简直不忍心想在那儿发生的事情。”她回答,“最糟的就是我带劳拉走进费尔利先生的房间后,他紧盯着劳拉的脸说:‘我侄女已经埋在利默里奇教堂墓地了。我不认识这个女人。赶快带她出去,不然我要用法律来保护自己了。’仆人们也对劳拉的身份很怀疑,因为她变化太大了,她的经历也让她思绪异常混乱。也许我们逗留的时间长一些,大家会被说服,但是我不想冒这个险,因为精神病院的人随时都会来找我们,所以我决定马上回伦敦躲起来。当我们经过教堂的时候,劳拉坚持要最后再看一眼她母亲的坟墓。后来……嗯,那一刻改变了我们三个人的生活。”

“我想是上帝在引导着劳拉的脚步。”我说。

我清楚地记得那天——可怜的劳拉将头依偎在我的肩头,充满了纯洁与信任。她说:“他们想叫我忘掉一切,沃尔特,但我还记得玛丽安,我还记得。”

*  *  *

针对劳拉的阴谋现在已经清楚了。安妮·凯瑟里克被当作格莱德夫人带进了福斯科伯爵的家里,格莱德夫人在精神病院里取代了那个已经死了的女人的位置。还有一点也很明显,福斯科伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士是不会放过我们三个的。他们两人从这个阴谋中得到30,000英镑。他们会尽一切可能不让他们的罪行败露,也会极力追寻他们所陷害的人,并把她同她的朋友们——玛丽安和我——分开。这就是为什么我选择伦敦一处既贫穷又拥挤的地方住下来,因为在一个人来人往的地方比较容易躲藏。

我们的生活很快形成了一个较为固定的模式——工作,留意我们的敌人,照顾劳拉。我们细心地照顾她,保护她,帮助她慢慢地恢复正常的思维和自信心。

与此同时,玛丽安和我开始了紧张的调查。我们仔细研究克尔先生记录的证词——分别来自医生以及伯爵家的仆人和厨师。我弄到了一份格莱德夫人的死亡证明。玛丽安给米切尔森太太写信,米切尔森太太回信说记不清劳拉离开布莱克沃特庄园的确切日期了,也记不清福斯科夫人来信通知他们劳拉死讯的具体时间了,那封信没有注明日期。

我还安排与克尔先生见面,请求他的帮助。听我把前因后果一一讲完后,克尔先生摇了摇头。

“作为律师,哈特里特先生,我认为你不会赢得这场官司。当然我同意,你和哈尔库姆小姐可以证明格莱德夫人还活着,但是你没有证据。如果你能证明死亡证明上的时间比格莱德夫人去伦敦的时间,那你可能会赢这场官司。”

我要离开的时候,他交给我一封信,是要他转给玛丽安的。同时,他在回答我的提问时透露,珀西瓦尔爵士已经回到伦敦了。

在外面的街道上,我很快注意到有两个人在跟踪我。我这才意识到伯爵的人肯定一直在监视克尔先生的办公室,以防玛丽安和我会到那儿去。我绕远路回家,设法甩掉了跟踪我的人,但是这件事提醒我今后要更加小心。

我把两个人跟踪我的事告诉了玛丽安,她非常担心。我把那封信交给她,她马上就认出了写信人的笔迹。

“是福斯科伯爵写的。”


亲爱的、尊敬的女士,请不要害怕!继续同你温柔的伙伴藏好,你们就不会有事。不要试图做任何事情,不要给任何人带来威胁。我请求你们,不要强迫我采取行动。如果哈特里特先生回英国来,不要同他接触。假如他找我的麻烦,他就死定了。福斯科。


“沃尔特!”玛丽安眼里闪着愤怒的光,“如果伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士落到你的手里,而你又必须放过他们中的一个的话,一定不要放过伯爵。”

“我要留着这封信,让它到时候提醒我应该怎么做,”我说,“明天我要去一趟布莱克沃特,查一查劳拉去伦敦的日期。这是他们阴谋中的一个漏洞。”

“你是说劳拉可能是在死亡证明上的日期之后才去伦敦的?”

“没错。我想她是7月26日动身的。精神病院的院长说她是27日被送进去的。我怀疑他们是否能让劳拉昏迷超过一晚上的时间。米切尔森太太说,珀西瓦尔爵士是和劳拉同一天离开的。我要问村里的每一个人,是不是还记得珀西瓦尔爵士什么时候离开的。”

“如果这样不行呢?”

“如果不行的话,玛丽安,我就逼珀西瓦尔爵士认罪。我们用他的秘密对付他,安妮·凯瑟里克说如果他的秘密让人知道了,那他就完了。我想查出他的秘密来。那个白衣女人虽说已经死了,但是还同我们在一起,她会为我们引路的!”

11
The investigation

The story of my first enquiries in Hampshire is soon told. Not a single person in the village of Blackwater could remember exactly when Sir Percival Glyde had left. Even the gardener at the house could only say it was some time in the last ten days of July.

'So, on to the next plan,' I said to Marian back in London, 'which is to pursue the secret. I need to talk to Anne Catherick's mother, but first I must find out something about her from Mrs Clements, Anne's friend. But how do I find Mrs Clements?'

Marian had the answer to that. 'You remember the farm she and Anne stayed at near Limmeridge? We'll write to them — they might know Mrs Clements' address.'

We were lucky. The farmer's wife did know the address, and wrote back by return to tell us. It was in London, not far from our rooms, and the next morning I was knocking at the door.

Mrs Clements was anxious to know if I had brought her any news of Anne, and very sad to learn that I had not. However, she was willing to tell me everything she knew.

'After leaving Limmeridge, sir,' she said, 'Anne and I went to live in the northeast of England, and that's when Anne started to suffer from heart disease. She wasn't at all well, but she insisted on travelling to Hampshire, because she wanted to speak to Lady Glyde. So we went there and stayed in a village near Blackwater — not too close as Anne was so frightened of Sir Percival.

'Each time Anne went to the lake to try to speak to Lady Glyde, I followed her at a distance. But the long walks made her so exhausted that she became ill again, so finally I went to the lake in her place to meet Lady Glyde. She didn't come that day, but a very fat man came instead with a message from her. The message was that we should return to London immediately, as Sir Percival would certainly find us if we stayed longer. Lady Glyde was going to London herself very soon and if we sent her our address, she would contact us.'

'But she didn't, did she?' I said, thinking how cleverly Count Fosco had lied to this kind woman.

'No, sir. I found lodgings and sent the address to Lady Glyde, but after two weeks we'd still heard nothing. Then one day a lady called in a cab. She said she came from Lady Glyde, who was staying at a hotel and wanted to arrange an interview with Anne. I agreed to go with this lady to make the arrangement, leaving Anne alone in our lodgings. But it was a wicked plot, sir. On the way the lady stopped the cab, saying she just had to collect something from a shop and would I wait for a few minutes. She never came back, sir. I waited for some time, and then I hurried home — and found Anne gone. Just disappeared.'

I asked Mrs Clements to describe this 'lady', and it seemed clear from her description that it was Madame Fosco. So I now knew how the Count had got Anne Catherick to London and separated her from Mrs Clements.

'I never found out what happened to Anne,' Mrs Clements said sadly. 'I made enquiries. I even wrote to her mother, but she didn't know anything. I miss poor Anne so much. She was like a daughter to me, you see, sir.'

'And I'm sure you were a kind mother to her,' I said. 'A better mother than her own mother.'

'That wasn't difficult,' said Mrs Clements. 'Mrs Catherick is a hard woman. She seemed to hate the child, and was only too pleased when I offered to bring her up. Then one day she took Anne to Limmeridge to stay with a sister, and after that she kept Anne from me. I didn't see Anne again till she escaped from the asylum — with your help, sir. And then she was always talking about a secret her mother had which could ruin Sir Percival. But you know, sir, I don't think Anne really knew what this secret was. If she had known, I'm sure she would have told me.'

I had wondered about that myself, and now I tried to turn the conversation on to Mrs Catherick.

'Did you know Mrs Catherick before Anne was born?'

'Yes, for about four months. We were neighbours in Welmingham. Mr and Mrs Catherick had just got married, and Mr Catherick had a job as clerk at Welmingham church. Before that, Mrs Catherick had been a servant at a large house. She was a selfish, heartless woman, and treated her poor husband very badly. Before long, there was a lot of talk about her and a young gentleman, who was staying at a hotel nearby. And Mr Catherick told my husband that he'd found expensive presents, gold rings and suchlike, hidden in his wife's drawer.'

'And who was this gentleman?' I asked.

'You know him, sir. And so did my poor dear Anne.'

'Sir Percival Glyde?' My heart began to beat faster. Was I getting close to the secret?

'That's right. His father had recently died abroad, and Sir Percival had just arrived in the neighbourhood. People thought, you see, that maybe Mrs Catherick had known Sir Percival before, and had married Mr Catherick just to save her reputation, because of, well, you know... Anyway, one night Mr Catherick found his wife whispering with Sir Percival outside the vestry of the church. They had a fight, but Sir Percival beat him and Mr Catherick left the village, never to return again. And in spite of all the talk in the village, Mrs Catherick stayed. She said she was innocent and that no one would drive her away. But most people thought that the money she lived on came from Sir Percival.'

The secret was here somewhere. But where? That Sir Percival was Anne's father was hardly a secret since everyone already thought that. No, there was another mystery somewhere.

'And what did you think, Mrs Clements?'

'Well, sir, if you worked out time and place, it was obvious that Mr Catherick wasn't Anne's father. But Anne wasn't at all like Sir Percival; and nor was she like her mother.'

I wondered about the house where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Perhaps I would make some enquiries later.

'You've been very kind, Mrs Clements,' I said, 'answering all my questions. One last request. Will you tell me Mrs Catherick's address? I have to find out this secret, and only she can tell me.'

Mrs Clements gave me the address, but shook her head. 'Take care, sir. She's an awful woman. You don't know her as I do.'

*  *  *

Back at our rooms I announced my intention to Marian of going to Welmingham. She was very uneasy about the plan.

'Are you sure it's wise, Walter? Sir Percival is a violent man.'

'I'm more afraid for you and Laura,' I said, 'left alone in London, with the Count as your enemy.'

We arranged to write to each other every day; and if no letter came from her, I would take the first train back to London.

*  *  *

Three days later I was standing in Mrs Catherick's sitting room, face to face with a grey-haired woman, dressed in black silk. Her dark eyes looked straight at me with a hard, cold stare.

'You say you have come to speak to me about my daughter,' she said. 'Please say what you have to say.'

Her voice was as hard as the expression in her eyes. She pointed to a chair, and looked at me carefully as I sat down.

'You know,' I said, 'that your daughter is lost?'

'I know that perfectly well.'

'Don't you worry that she might not be just lost, but that she might have met with her death?'

'Yes. Have you come to tell me that she is dead?'

'I have.'

'Why?'

She asked that extraordinary question without the slightest change in her voice, face, or manner. I might have been talking about the death of a cat in the street.

'I thought Anne's mother might be interested in knowing if she was alive or dead.'

'Just so,' she said. 'But what is your interest in her, or in me? Have you no other reason for coming here?'

'Yes, I do,' I said. 'Your daughter's death has caused someone I love to be harmed — by a man called Sir Percival Glyde.'

She did not react at all at the mention of his name.

'I want to make him confess to his crime. You know certain things about him from the time when your husband was the church clerk. I want you to tell me about them.'

At last I saw the anger burning in her eyes.

'What do you know about those events?'

'Everything that Mrs Clements could tell me.'

'Mrs Clements is a foolish woman.' She bit back her anger, and her lips curled in an unpleasant little smile. 'Ah, I begin to understand. You want your revenge on Sir Percival Glyde, and you want my help. That's why you've come here. Well, you don't know me. I've spent years getting back my reputation in this village. Now everyone respects me. I won't help you.'

'If you're afraid of Sir Percival, that's quite understandable,' I said. 'He's a powerful man, and comes from a great family —'

To my amazement, she suddenly burst out laughing.

'From a great family! Yes, indeed! Especially from his mother's side,' she said with disgust.

Whatever did she mean by that, I wondered?

'The secret between you and Sir Percival was not guilty love,' I insisted. 'It was something else that brought you and him to those stolen meetings outside the vestry of the church.'

As I said the words 'vestry of the church', I saw a wave of terror pass across her face.

'Go!' she said. 'And never come back. Unless' — and she gave a slow, cruel smile — 'unless you bring news of his death.'

*  *  *

It was now late, and I made my way to the nearest hotel. There was much to think about. Why should mention of the church vestry cause terror? Why the disgust at Sir Percival's family, especially his mother? Was there something unusual about his parents' marriage? Perhaps the local marriage register was kept in the vestry of Welmingham church...

The next day I went to the church. I had been aware of being followed the previous evening, and now I caught sight of the same two men I had seen outside Mr Kyrle's office in London. It seemed that Sir Percival had expected me to visit Mrs Catherick, and was now expecting me to visit Welmingham church — proof, surely, that my investigation was going in the right direction.

I found the church clerk, who fetched his keys and took me to the vestry. It could only be entered from the outside of the church, and the clerk had great difficulty opening the lock, which was very old. Once inside, I asked to see the marriage register. It was kept in a cupboard which could easily be forced open.

'Is that a safe enough place to keep the register?' I said.

'Safe enough,' the clerk said. 'A copy is kept by a lawyer in the next village — Mr Wansborough's office in Knowlesbury.'

I worked backwards in the register from Sir Percival's year of birth and there, under September of the previous year, squashed into a small space at the bottom of the page, was the record of the marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster of Knowlesbury. Just the usual information. Nothing apparently peculiar about Sir Percival's mother. The secret seemed further away than ever.

But on to Knowlesbury, and Mr Wansborough's office — a five-mile walk, but possible to get there and back by the end of the day. It was worth checking the copy of the register, and perhaps the lawyer would know something that might be useful.


pursue v. continue to investigate 继续调查

lodgings n. rooms rented for lodging in 租用的房子

bring up raise 抚养

heartless adj. unfeeling, pitiless 无情的

vestry n. a room or building attached to a church for keeping vestments in 教堂的法衣室

react v. undergo a change or show behaviour due to some influence 反应

bite back restrain 克制

burst out suddenly begin 突然做……

disgust n. strong aversion 不屑

make one's way to go to 到……去

catch sight of see, find 看到

11.调查

下面是我在汉普郡初步调查的情况。布莱克沃特村没有一个人记得珀西瓦尔爵士离开的确切时间。园丁也仅仅记得大概是7月下旬。

“那么,开始下一步行动吧,”回到伦敦我对玛丽安说,“查出那个秘密来。我需要找到安妮·凯瑟里克的母亲,但我必须首先找到安妮的朋友克莱门茨太太,从她那里了解一些情况。可怎么才能找到克莱门茨太太?”

玛丽安想出了办法:“还记得克莱门茨太太和安妮在利默里奇附近住过的农场吗?我们给他们写信,也许他们知道克莱门茨太太的地址。”

我们很幸运,农场主的妻子真的知道地址,她回信告诉了我们。她就住在伦敦,离我们住的地方不远。第二天上午,我就找到了那个地方,敲响了房门。

克莱门茨太太急切地想知道我是否带来了安妮的消息,当我告诉她没有的时候,她非常难过。不过,她愿意把她知道的一切都告诉我。

“离开利默里奇以后,先生,”她对我说,“安妮和我去了英国东北部,这个时候安妮得了心脏病。她身体很不好,但她坚持到汉普郡去见格莱德夫人。所以我们就去了那儿,住在布莱克沃特附近的一个村子里——那地方离布莱克沃特不是很近,因为安妮非常害怕珀西瓦尔爵士。

“每一次安妮到湖边去见格莱德夫人,我都在远处跟着她。但是走那么远的路让她非常疲劳,结果她又病了。最后我代替她到湖边去见格莱德夫人。那天格莱德夫人没有来,来的是一个很胖的男人,他捎来了格莱德夫人的口信,让我们赶快回伦敦,因为如果在这里呆久了,珀西瓦尔爵士肯定会发现我们。格莱德夫人自己很快也会到伦敦去,如果我们把地址给她,她会跟我们联系。”

“但是她没跟你们联系,对吗?”我问,心想伯爵对这个善良的女人说的谎真是高明啊。

“没错,先生。我找到了住处,把地址寄给了格莱德夫人,可是两个星期过去了,我们没收到任何回音。后来,有一天一位夫人乘马车到这里来。她说她从格莱德夫人那儿来,格莱德夫人住在一家旅店,想安排同安妮见面。我答应同那位夫人去安排见面的事,把安妮一个人留在住处。可这是个恶毒的阴谋,先生。走到半路,那位夫人说要去商店取点儿东西,让我等几分钟。她去了就再没回来,先生。我等了好一阵子,然后赶忙回家——回来后却发现安妮不见了。就这么消失了。”

我让克莱门茨太太描述一下那位“夫人”的样子,根据她的描述,那人很显然是福斯科夫人。现在我明白伯爵是怎么把安妮·凯瑟里克弄到伦敦,又怎么把她和克莱门茨太太分开的了。

“我不知道安妮到底出了什么事,”克莱门茨太太伤心地说,“我调查过,甚至给她母亲写过信,但是她什么也不知道。我现在非常想念可怜的安妮。你知道,她就像我的女儿一样,先生。”

“我相信你是她的好母亲,”我说,“比她的亲生母亲还要亲。”

“那倒没什么难的,”克莱门茨太太说,“凯瑟里克太太是一个铁石心肠的女人。她好像仇视这个孩子,我提出抚养这孩子时,她非常高兴。后来有一天她把安妮带到利默里奇同她的妹妹住在一起。再后来,她就不让我见安妮了。安妮从精神病院逃出来之前,我就再没见到过她。她逃出来还是你帮的忙呢,先生。从那以后,她—直说她母亲知道一个秘密,那秘密会毁了珀西瓦尔爵士。但是,先生,我觉得安妮并不真的知道那个秘密。如果她真的知道,我相信她早就告诉我了。”

我自己也想过这个问题。但是,现在我努力把话题转向凯瑟里克太太。

“安妮出生前,你就认识凯瑟里克太太吗?”

“认识,大概有四个月的时间。我们在韦明翰是邻居。当时凯瑟里克夫妇刚刚结婚,凯瑟里克先生在韦明翰教堂当职员。结婚前,凯瑟里克太太在一个大户人家当仆人。她是一个自私、狠心的女人,对她可怜的丈夫非常不好。不久,关于她和住在附近旅店的一个年轻人有了很多风言风语。凯瑟里克先生对我丈夫说,他发现他妻子的抽屉里藏着许多贵重礼物,金戒指什么的。”

“那个年轻人是谁?”我问。

“你认识他,先生。我可怜的安妮也认识他。”

“珀西瓦尔爵士?”我的心跳开始加速。我是不是接近那个秘密了?

“就是他。他父亲那时在国外去世,珀西瓦尔爵士刚刚到这里来。大家都说很可能凯瑟里克太太早就认识珀西瓦尔爵士,她和凯瑟里克先生结婚就是想挽救自己的名声,因为,嗯,你知道……不管怎样,一天晚上,凯瑟里克先生看到他妻子和珀西瓦尔爵士在教堂的法衣室外窃窃私语。他们打了起来。珀西瓦尔爵士打了他。之后,凯瑟里克先生就离开了那个村子,再也没回来。尽管村子里流言满天飞,凯瑟里克太太还是一直住在那里。”她说自己是清白的,谁也赶不走她。不过大多数人都认为她是靠珀西瓦尔爵士的钱维持生活的。”

秘密就在这里。可是到底是什么呢?珀西瓦尔爵士是安妮的父亲,这已经不是什么秘密了,大家早就这么想了。不对,这里一定还有隐情。

“那你怎么看,克莱门茨太太?”

“嗯,如果从时间和地点来看,很明显凯瑟里克先生不是安妮的父亲。但是,安妮一点儿也不像珀西瓦尔爵士,也不像她母亲。”

我想到凯瑟里克太太当仆人的那家,也许什么时候我可以到那儿调查一下。

“真是太谢谢了,克莱门茨太太,”我说,“你回答了我那么多问题。最后我还有个请求,你能告诉我凯瑟里克太太的地址吗?我必须查清楚这个秘密,只有她可以告诉我。”

克莱门茨太太把地址给了我,但是摇了摇头,“你要小心,先生。她是一个很可怕的女人,你没有我了解她。”

*  *  *

回到住处,我把要去韦明翰的想法告诉了玛丽安,她非常担优。

“你觉得这样好吗,沃尔特?珀西瓦尔爵士是个心狠手辣的人。”

“我更担心的是你和劳拉,”我说,“就你们两个留在伦敦,还要对付伯爵。”

我们商量好每天都互相写信,如果没有收到玛丽安的来信,我就搭乘最早的一班火车回伦敦来。

*  *  *

三天后,我已经站在凯瑟里克太太的客厅里了。我面前是一个头发灰白的女人,穿着黑色绸衣。她的一双黑眼睛冷冷地盯着我。

“你说你来跟我谈我女儿的事,”她开口说,“有什么话就请讲吧。”

她的声音像她的眼神一样冷。她指了指一把椅子,我坐下以后,她开始仔细地打量我。

“你知道,”我说,“你女儿失踪了吗?”

“我非常清楚。”

“难道你不担心她可能不光是失踪了,有可能她已经死了?”

“我想过。那你是来告诉我,她已经死了?”

“是的。”

“为什么?”

提出这样荒谬的问题,她的声音、表情和举止居然没有任何变化,就好像我刚才谈的是街上死了一只猫。

“我原以为安妮的母亲会关心她的生死。”

“就为了这个啊,”她说,“但是你为什么对她或我感兴趣呢?你到这里来没有其他原因?”

“有,”我回答,“你女儿的死使我所爱的人受到了伤害——是一个叫珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士的人干的。”

我提到了珀西瓦尔的名字,她一点儿反应都没有。

“我要让他承认他所犯下的罪行,你丈夫在教堂当职员的时候,你就知道了他的一些事,我希望你把所知道的告诉我。”

我终于在她眼里看到了愤怒的目光。

“你是怎么知道这些事的?”

“克莱门茨太太把她知道的都告诉我了。”

“克莱门茨太太是个愚蠢的女人。”她压下怒火,双唇勾起一丝恶意的微笑。“呵,我开始懂了。要向珀西瓦尔爵士报仇,需要帮忙。这就是你来这里的原因。你不了解我。我在这个村子住了这么多年,才挽回我的名誉。现在大家都很尊敬我,我不会帮你的。”

“如果你害怕珀西瓦尔爵士,那是可以理解的,”我说,“他是个有权势的人,出身名门——”

令我吃惊的是,她突然大笑起来。

“出身名门!是,没错!尤其是他母亲那一边。”她不屑地说。

她这话是什么意思?我不明白。

“你和他之间的秘密不是什么婚外情,”我接着说,“是别的事情使得你们在教堂的法衣室外秘密见面。”

在提到“教堂的法衣室”时,我注意到她的脸上掠过一阵恐惧。

“滚出去!”她大声喊着,“再也不要回来。除非”——她脸上慢慢露出残忍的笑意——“除非你来告诉我他死了。”

*  *  *

天色已晚,我朝最近的旅店走去。有许多问题需要思考。为什么提到教堂的法衣室她就害怕了?为什么她瞧不起珀西瓦尔爵士的家庭,特别是他的母亲?难道他父母的婚姻有什么特别的地方?也许当地的婚姻登记记录就存放在韦明翰教堂的法衣室……

第二天我去了教堂。我已经注意到前一天晚上有人跟踪我,这会儿我又看到在伦敦克尔先生办公室外见到的那两个人在跟着我。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士已经料到我要来见凯瑟里克太太,现在又料到我来韦明翰教堂——这些恰好证明我的调查方向是正确的。

我找到了教堂职员,他找来钥匙,带我来到教堂的法衣室。法衣室只能从教堂外面进去,职员费了好大劲儿才打开那把旧锁。进去以后,我说要看看婚姻登记记录。那些记录放在一个柜子里,柜子的门很容易被撬开。

“婚姻登记记录放在这里安全吗?”我问。

“很安全,”职员回答,“另一个副本存放在邻村的律师那里,就是万斯伯勒先生的办公室,在诺雷斯伯里。”

我从珀西瓦尔爵士出生那年的记录开始往前面查,在前一年的9月,有一页在靠下的角落里记着费利克斯·格莱德爵士和诺雷斯伯里的塞西莉亚结婚。只是非常一般的记录,看不出珀西瓦尔爵士的母亲有什么特殊的地方。秘密好像比以前离我更远了。

接下来,我奔赴诺雷斯伯里万斯伯勒先生的办公室——大约有5英里的路程,但是在天黑前赶回来还是可能的。很有必要查看一下记录的副本,也许律师会知道一些有用的信息。

12
The secret

Sir Percival's spies attacked me on the road to Knowlesbury. One of them came up beside me, and bumped into me with his shoulder. I pushed him away, hard, and he immediately shouted for help. The other man ran up and the two of them held me between them. The first man accused me of attacking him, and they said they would take me to the police station in the town.

What could I do? I couldn't fight both of them and hope to get away, so I had to go with them.

At the police station the first man accused me of a violent attack, and the second man said he was a witness. I was locked up until the next magistrate's court, which was three days away. I could be released on bail, I was told, but how could I, a total stranger in the town, find a responsible person willing to pay money for my temporary freedom? The whole plan was now clear — to get me out of the way for three days, while Sir Percival did whatever was necessary to prevent his secret being discovered.

At first I was too angry to think clearly. Then I remembered Mr Dawson, the doctor. I had been to his house on my previous visit to Blackwater, so I knew his address. I wrote him a letter, explaining what had happened and begging for his help, and then asked for a messenger to deliver it. Two hours later the good doctor appeared, paid the required money and I was set free.

There was no time to lose. The news of my being free would doubtless reach Sir Percival within hours. I hurried to the lawyer's office, where I asked if I could see the copy of the Welmingham marriage register. Mr Wansborough was a pleasant man and agreed to show me the copy. In fact, he was quite amused. No one had asked to see it since his father (now dead) had locked it away in the office more than twenty years before.

As I opened the register, my hands trembled. I turned the pages to the year and month. I found the names I remembered just before, and just after, the marriage of Sir Percival's parents. And between these entries, at the bottom of the page...?

Nothing! The marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster was not there! I looked again, to be sure. No, nothing. Not a doubt about it. Sir Percival must have seen the space in the Welmingham register and written in the marriage himself.

I had never once suspected this. He was not Sir Percival Glyde at all! His parents had not been married, so he had no right to the inheritance of Blackwater Park, no right to the rank of Baronet, no right even to the name of Glyde! This was his secret — and it was now mine to use against him!

The copy of the register would be safe enough in the lawyer's office, but I decided to go back to Welmingham and make a copy of the false record from the church register. It was dark now and I ran all the way to the church clerk's house. I knocked on his door, but when he appeared, he looked suspicious and confused.

'Where are the keys?' he asked. 'Have you taken them?'

'What keys do you mean?' I said. 'I've just this minute arrived from Knowlesbury.'

'The keys of the vestry,' he said. 'The keys are gone! Someone's broken in and taken the keys.'

'Get a light,' I said, 'and let's go to the vestry. Quick!'

We ran to the church. On the path we passed a man who looked at us with frightened eyes. He seemed to be a servant of some kind. We did not stop to question him, but ran on.

As we came in sight of the vestry, I saw a high window brilliantly lit from within. There was a strange smell on the night air, a sound of cracking wood, and the light grew brighter and brighter. I ran to the door and put my hand on it. The vestry was on fire!

I heard the key working violently in the lock — I heard a man's voice behind the door, raised in terror, screaming for help.

'Oh, my God!' said the servant, who had followed us, 'it's Sir Percival!'

'God help him!' said the clerk. 'He's damaged the lock.'

*  *  *

At that moment I forget the man's crimes and see only the horror of his situation. Several people are now running towards the church and I call to them to help me break down the door. We look desperately for something to use, and at last someone finds a long heavy piece of wood.

By now the flames are shooting up out of the window, and the screams have stopped. We get the wood into position and run at the door with it. Again, and again! At last the door crashes down, but a wave of heat hits our faces and drives us back — and in the room we see nothing but a sheet of living fire.

*  *  *

The church itself was saved as the fire engine arrived soon afterwards and managed to put out the fire before it spread. They carried out the body of Sir Percival Glyde and laid it on the wet ground. I looked down on his dead face and this was how, for the first and last time, I saw him.

He must have heard that I was free and on my way back to Welmingham, so he hurried to the church, stealing the keys and locking himself in to prevent anyone coming in and finding him. All he could do was tear the page out of the register and destroy it. If the false record no longer existed, I could produce no evidence to threaten him with. He must have dropped his lamp by accident, which started the fire. Then in his urgency to get out, the lock had become damaged and the key unmoveable.

I could not leave the town. There would be a legal enquiry into the accident the next day, which I had to attend, and in any case I had to report back to the police station in Knowlesbury. I returned to the hotel and wrote to Marian, telling her everything that had happened and warning her to keep the news from Laura for the moment. With Sir Percival's death, my hopes of establishing Laura's identity had also died, and I could see no way forward at present.

The next day an envelope with my name on was delivered to the hotel. The letter inside was neither dated nor signed, but before I had read the first sentence, I knew who had written it — Mrs Catherick.


Sir — I thought you were my enemy. Now that he is dead, because of you, I consider you my friend. To thank you for what you have done, I will now tell you the things you wanted to know about my private life.

Twenty-three years ago I was a beautiful young woman living in Welmingham, married to a fool of a husband. I also knew a gentleman — I shall not call him by his name. Why should I? It was not his own. I was born with expensive tastes. This man gave me expensive presents. Naturally he wanted something in return — all men do. And what did he want? Just a little thing. The key to the church vestry, when my husband's back was turned. I liked my presents, so I got him the key. I watched him in the vestry without his knowing, and saw what he was doing. I did not know then how serious a crime it was. I said I would not tell anyone about the marriage he had added to the register if he told me about his private life. He agreed — why, you will see in a moment.

He said that he only found out that his parents were not married after his mother's death. His father confessed to it and promised to do what he could for his son. But he died having done nothing. The son came to England and took possession of the property. There was no one to say he could not. In fact, the right person to claim the property was a distant relation away at sea. However, to borrow money on the property, he needed a certificate of his parents' marriage. This was a problem — a problem which brought him to Welmingham.

As his parents had mostly lived abroad and had had no social life in England, who was to say (the priest being dead) that a private marriage had not taken place at Welmingham church? His plan was to tear out a page from the marriage register in the year before his birth and destroy it. Then he would tell his lawyers in London to get the necessary certificate, innocently referring them to the date on the page that was gone. At least no one could say that his parents were not married.

However, when he saw there was a small space at the bottom of the page in the right year, he changed his plan and took the opportunity to write in the marriage himself. It took him some time, though, to practise the handwriting and to mix the right colour of ink, so that it looked the same.

After my husband caught me talking secretly to him and after their fight together, I asked my fine gentleman to clear my name and to say there had been nothing between us. But he refused. He wanted everyone to believe something false, so that they would never suspect the truth. He then told me that the punishment for his crime, and anyone who helped him, was life in prison. He frightened me! If I spoke out, I was just as lost as he was. He then agreed to make me a yearly payment if I said nothing and stayed in Welmingham, where he could always find me and where there was no danger of my making friends and talking. This was hard, but I accepted.

Many years later, when my daughter was with me at home, I received a letter from him which made me very angry. I lost control of myself and said, in her presence, that 'I could destroy him if I let out his secret'. Then one day he came to our house and called her a fool. Immediately she shouted, 'Ask for my pardon, now, or I'll let out your secret and destroy your life. 'My own words! He went white. Then he swore at us. It ended, as you know, by his shutting her up in an asylum. I tried to tell him she knew nothing. But he did not believe me. My daughter knew that she had frightened him and that he was responsible for shutting her up because he believed she knew his secret. That's why she hated him. But she never to her dying day knew what his secret actually was.

I will end by saying that you insult me if you think my husband was not my daughter's father. Please do not ask further questions about that. To protect myself, I mention no names in this letter, nor do I sign it.


magistrate n. an official conducting a court for minor cases 法官

bail n. money left with a court of law to prove that a prisoner will return when their trial starts 保释金

entry n. an item 条目

brilliantly adv. very brightly 非常亮

produce v. bring forward for consideration or inspection 拿出

12.秘密

在去往诺雷斯伯里的路上,珀西瓦尔爵士的人向我发起了攻击。其中一个走到我旁边,用肩膀撞我。我用力把他推开,他马上大喊起来。另一个人跑过来,他们两个把我夹在了中间。第一个人指责我打他,他们说要把我带到镇上的警察局去。

我能怎么办呢?我没办法打倒他们两个再逃走,现在只得跟他们走了。

到了警察局,第一个人说我打他,另一个人说他是证人。我被关了起来,等着三天后法官开庭审理。他们告诉我可以保释,可是我在这里一个人也不认识,怎么可能找到一个愿意负责的人出钱让我获得暂时的自由呢?他们的整个计划很清楚——让我消失三天,珀西瓦尔爵士就利用这段时间尽一切可能保证他的秘密不被发现。

刚开始,我非常气愤,头脑中一片混乱。后来我想起了道森先生,那位医生。上一次我去布莱克沃特的时候到过他家,所以我知道他的地址。我给他写了封信,告诉他出了什么事,请求他来帮我,然后找了一个送信的帮我把信送走。两个小时后,好心的医生来了,为我交了保释金,我自由了。

必须抓紧时间,因为我被释放的消息肯定几个小时之内就会传到珀西瓦尔爵士那里。我赶到律师的办公室,请求看一下韦明翰的结婚登记记录。万斯伯勒先生是个和气的人,他同意让我看副本。其实,应该说他很高兴,因为自从他父亲(现在已经去世了)20多年前把文件锁在办公室后,从未有人要求查看过。

我翻开记录副本的时候双手在颤抖。我找到了珀西瓦尔爵士父母结婚的年份和月份,以及在他们之前和之后结婚的男女方姓名记录。但是,在这些条目之间,在那一页的底下……?

什么也没有!费利克斯·格莱德爵士和塞西莉亚·埃尔斯特的婚姻根本就没有记录!为了保险起见,我又看了一遍。没有,什么也没有,毫无疑问。珀西瓦尔爵士可能在韦明翰的记录中看到了那个空白,然后自己填上了那条记录。

我从未怀疑到这一点。他根本就不是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士,他的父母没有结婚,他根本没有权利继承布莱克沃特庄园和爵位,甚至根本无权姓格莱德!这就是他的秘密——现在我要利用这个秘密来对付他!

婚姻登记的副本放在律师的办公室很安全,我决定返回韦明翰,复制一份教堂的假记录。天已经黑了,我一路跑到教堂职员的住处。我敲了门,职员出来的时候,脸上布满了疑虑。

“钥匙在哪儿?”他问我,“你把钥匙拿走了吗?”

“什么钥匙?”我说,“我刚从诺雷斯伯里过来。”

“法衣室的钥匙,”他说,“钥匙不见了!有人进来偷走了钥匙。”

“拿上灯,”我说,“我们去法衣室,快!”

我们向教堂跑去。路上碰见一个人,似乎是个仆人,他惊慌地看了看我们。我们没有停下来问他任何问题,而是继续向前跑。

当我们看到法衣室的时候,我发现从一个高处的窗户里发出很亮的光,夜晚的空气中有一股奇怪的味道,可以听到木头劈啪作响的声音,那光变得越来越亮。我跑到法衣室的门口,用手摸了摸门。法衣室起火了!

我听到钥匙在锁里使劲转动的声音——我听到门后有人害怕地高声喊救命。

“噢,上帝!”跟着我们跑过来的仆人说,“是珀西瓦尔爵士!”

“上帝啊,救救他!”职员说,“他把锁弄坏了。”

alt

*  *  *

这个时候,我忘记了这个人的罪恶,只想到他现在的危急处境。有几个人正朝教堂跑过来,我叫他们帮我把门弄开。我们到处找能弄开门的东西,最后有人找来一根很粗的长木头。

这时,火焰已经窜出了窗户,呼叫声已听不见了。我们抬着长木头,一次又一次朝门撞过去。最后门被撞倒了,热浪从屋里冲出来,使我们不得不往后退去——屋里除了一团火什么也看不见。

*  *  *

救火车很快赶到,没等火势蔓延就把火扑灭了,教堂本身没有受到破坏。人们把珀西瓦尔爵士的尸体抬了出来,放在潮湿的地上。我看了看他的脸,这是我第一次也是最后一次看到他。

他一定是听说我被放出来,而且正赶回韦明翰,所以急忙赶到教堂,偷了钥匙,把自己锁在屋子里,不让任何人进去发现他。他唯一能做的就是把那一页从登记簿上撕下来销毁。如果假记录没有了,我就拿不出证据来威胁他。他可能不小心把灯掉到地上,引起了大火。然后,他急着要出来,匆忙中弄坏了锁,钥匙转不动了。

我现在还不能离开这里。转天会有一个事故的法律调查,我必须参加。而且不管怎样,我还得向诺雷斯伯里的警察局报到。我回到旅店,写信给玛丽安,告诉她这里发生的事情,提醒她先不要把这个消息告诉劳拉。珀西瓦尔爵士死了,我证明劳拉身份的希望也不复存在,现在我不知下一步该怎么办。

第二天,一个写着我名字的信封被送到了旅店。里面的信既没有日期,也没有署名。但是还没看完第一句,我就知道是谁写的信了——凯瑟里克太太。

先生——我原以为你是我的敌人。现在因为你,他已经死了,我认为你是我的朋友。为感谢你的所作所为,我现在把你想知道的我的私事告诉你。

23年前,我是一个年轻漂亮的姑娘,住在韦明翰,嫁给了一位傻乎乎的丈夫。我还结识了一位绅士——我不会称呼他的名字。为什么要那样叫他?那不是他的名字。我生来就喜欢贵重的东西,这个人送给我许多贵重礼物,当然他是需要回报的——男人都是这样。这个男人要的是什么?很简单的一样东西。教堂法衣室的钥匙,当然要趁我丈夫不在的时候。我喜欢那些礼物,所以给他弄到了钥匙。我盯着他,看他在法衣室干什么,他并没发觉。当时我不知道那是多么严重的罪行。我跟他说,要是他告诉我他的私事,我不会告诉任何人他擅自增加结婚记录的事。他答应了——至于为什么,你往下看就明白了。

他说在他母亲死后,他才知道他的父母并没有结婚。他父亲承认了这件事,答应尽力为他儿子做些什么。可是他什么都没来得及做,就死去了。他的儿子来到英国继承了遗产。没人说他不能继承,实际上,真正应该继承遗产的是一个正在出海的远亲。然而,要想用那笔财产去借钱,他需要一份父母的结婚证明。这是个问题,为解决这个问题,他来到了韦明翰。

因为他父母大部分时间生活在国外,在英国没什么交际,所以谁会说(牧师已经死了)韦明翰教堂没举行过一场私下的婚礼呢?他的计划是把他出生前那一年的婚姻登记页撕下来销毁。然后,他就会告诉伦敦的律师们去取必要的证明文件,并假装不知情地把那个已经不存在的登记页上的日期告诉他们。至少谁也不会说他父母没结婚。

但是,他发现那年的登记页上靠下面有一点空白,于是改变了主意,趁机把他父母的婚姻写了进去。当然,他也颇费了些时间去模仿登记用的笔迹,还有配制合适的墨水颜色,让这条记录看起来跟其他的没有差别。

我丈夫看到我和他密谈,他们两个打了一架以后,我叫他帮我洗清名声,告诉别人我们之间什么也没发生,但是他拒绝了。他希望大家都相信并没有发生的事情,这样一来,人们就不会去想真相如何了。他还跟我说如果他的罪行败露,他以及帮过他的人都将被终生监禁。他让我害怕极了!如果我说出他的秘密,那我和他都完了。他答应每年支付我一笔钱,条件是我保持沉默,继续住在韦明翰,让他随时可以找到我,也免得我与人交朋友,然后乱讲话。虽说条件很苛刻,我还是答应了。

很多年以后,那时我女儿同我在一起,我收到他的一封信把我惹恼了。我无法控制自己,当着女儿的面说:“我把他的秘密说出去就能毁了他。”后来有一天,他来我家,管我女儿叫傻瓜,她一下子喊了起来:“赶快请求我原谅你,不然我就把你的秘密说出去,毁了你。”完全是我说过的话!他的脸一下子变白了。他向我们破口大骂。最后,你知道,他把她关进了精神病院。我试图告诉他,她什么也不知道。可是他不相信我。我女儿明白她使他害怕了,是他把她关进了精神病院,因为他认为她知道了他的秘密。这就是为什么她那么恨他。但是,她其实到死也不知道那秘密到底是什么。

最后我要说的是,如果你认为我丈夫不是我女儿的父亲,你就是污辱我。请不要多问了。为了保护我自己,信中没有提到任何名字,我也不会署名。

13
The threat

Mrs Catherick's extraordinary and shameless letter filled me with disgust. My interest in Sir Percival Glyde's crime was now at an end, but I decided to keep the letter in case it might help me find out who Anne's father really was.

Later in the morning I went to the legal enquiry into Sir Percival's death. I was only asked to say what had happened. I was not asked how I thought the keys had been taken, how the fire had been caused, or why Sir Percival had gone into the vestry. As no one could explain any of these things, the verdict at the end of the enquiry was 'death by accident'.

Afterwards, a gentleman who was also at the enquiry walked back to the hotel with me. He had heard from Sir Percival's lawyer that a distant relation abroad would now inherit Blackwater Park. This was obviously the person who should have inherited it twenty-three years before. If I made Sir Percival's crime public, it would be to no one's advantage now. If I kept the secret, the true character of the man who had cheated Laura into marrying him would remain hidden. And for her sake, I wished to keep it hidden.

I still could not leave Hampshire, as I had to report to the police station in Knowlesbury the next day. I spent another night at the hotel and in the morning went to the post office to collect the letter from Marian. As promised, we had written to each other every day, and Marian's letters had been full of cheerful news. This morning's letter was short, and terrified me.


Come back as soon as you can. We have had to move. Come to Gower's Walk, Fulham (number five). I will look out for you. Don't be alarmed about us, we are both safe and well. But come back. — Marian


What had happened? What dreadful thing had Count Fosco done while I was away? In spite of my anxiety, I had to wait. I paid my bill at the hotel and took a cab to Knowlesbury.

At the police station, as I expected, no one appeared to continue the action against me and I was allowed to go. Half an hour later I was on the train back to London.

I got to Gower's Walk in Fulham at about nine o'clock. Both Laura and Marian came to the door to let me in. Laura was much brighter and happier, full of plans for the future and for her drawing and painting. Marian's face was tired and anxious. I could see that she had spared Laura the knowledge of the terrible death in Welmingham and the true reason for moving to new lodgings. When Laura had left us and we could speak freely, I tried to give some expression to my feelings and told Marian how much I admired her for the courage and love she had shown.

She was too generous to listen to me, and turned the conversation to my worries.

'I'm so sorry for my letter — it must have alarmed you.'

'Yes, it did,' I admitted. 'Was I right in thinking that you moved because of a threat by Count Fosco?'

'Perfectly right,' she said. 'I saw him yesterday, and worse than that, Walter — I spoke to him.'

'Spoke to him? Did he come to the house?'

'He did. Yesterday, when I was passing the window, I saw him in the street. Then there was a knock on the door. I rushed out and there he was, dressed in black, with his smooth face and his deadly smile. I closed the door behind me so that Laura would not see or hear him.'

'What did he say?' I asked anxiously.

'He greeted me, then repeated the warning in his letter to me. He said he had not been able to prevent Sir Percival's violence towards you, and he had found out our address in order to protect his own interests. You were followed, Walter, on your return home after your first journey to Hampshire. He used this information only when he heard of Sir Percival's death, because he believed you would act against him next.'

'And he was right,' I said. 'What did he say about me?'

'He was very cool, very polite, and very threatening,' said Marian. 'He said, "Warn Mr Hartright! He has an intelligent and powerful man to deal with. Let him be content with what he has got. Say to him, if he attacks me, I will use all my power to destroy him. There is nothing I will not do. Dear lady, good morning." Then he just looked at me with his cold grey eyes, and walked away.

'I ran back inside, and told Laura we had to move. We needed a quieter neighbourhood with better air for the sake of her health. I said you'd wanted us to do that, and why didn't we do it now to surprise you when you got back. She liked that idea, and was quite happy to move. I found these lodgings through an old school friend. I did the right thing, didn't I, Walter?'

I answered her warmly and gratefully, as I really felt.

But the anxious look remained on her face, and I saw in her eyes her continuing fear of the Count's cleverness and energy.

'What do you think of his message, Walter? What do you plan to do next?'

'I decided weeks ago that Laura will be received in her uncle's house again,' I answered. 'And my decision remains the same. Count Fosco will answer for his crime to ME.'

Marian's eyes lit up. She said nothing, but I could see how strongly she supported this plan.

'I know the risks are great,' I said, 'but it must be done. I'm not foolish enough to try this before I'm well prepared. I can wait. Let him think his message has produced its effect. He will start to feel safe. Also, my position towards you and Laura ought to be a stronger one than it is now.'

'How can it be stronger?' she asked, surprised.

'Marian, I would like you to say to Laura, gently, that her husband is dead.'

'Oh, Walter, so soon? You have a reason for this, don't you?'

'Yes. I cannot speak to Laura yet. But one day, not too distant, I want to tell her that I love her.'

Marian looked at me for a time, then gave a sad, gentle smile. 'Yes, I understand. I think I owe it to her and to you, Walter, to tell her of her husband's death.'

The next day Laura knew that death had released her from her marriage, and her husband's name was never mentioned among us again.

*  *  *

Our life returned to its usual pattern, but I did not forget the Count. I discovered that he had rented his house in St John's Wood for another six months, so I was fairly sure he would still be in London, within my reach, when the time came to act.

We finally solved the puzzle of who Anne Catherick's father was. When I went again to see Mrs Clements and to tell her about Anne's death, she remembered where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Her employer had been a Mr Donthorne.

We wrote to Mr Donthorne, who replied with some very interesting information. Philip Fairlie, Laura's father, had been a great friend of his when they were young, and a frequent house guest. He was a handsome man and fond of female company. Mr Donthorne was fairly certain that Philip Fairlie had been staying at his house when Mrs Catherick was employed as a servant, in the year before Anne was born.

When Marian and I checked the dates; when we considered that Anne and Laura looked so alike; and when we took into account the fact that Laura looked very much like her father, we were in no doubt that here was the solution. Philip Fairlie was Anne's father, and so Anne was Laura's half-sister.

Now, at last, the woman in white, that strange sad shadow walking in the loneliness of the night, could rest in peace.

*  *  *

Four months passed. Laura grew stronger in body and in mind. She was almost her old self, and when we talked, it was as we used to talk at Limmeridge. If I touched her by accident, I felt my heart beating fast, and I saw the answering colour in her face.

In April, we went for a holiday at the seaside. While we were there I told Marian that when we returned to London, I was determined to force a confession from Count Fosco — to make him tell me the real date of Laura's journey to London.

'But if I am to challenge the Count, for Laura's safety, I think I should challenge him as her husband. Do you agree, Marian?'

'With every word,' she said. 'I parted you both once. Wait here, my brother, my best and dearest friend! Till Laura comes, and tells you what I have done now!'

She kissed my forehead and left the room. I waited by the window, staring out at the beach, seeing nothing, hardly able to breathe. The door opened, and Laura came in alone. When we parted at Limmeridge, she had come into the room slowly, in sorrow and hesitation. Now she ran to me, with the light of happiness shining in her face. She put her arms around me, and her sweet lips came to meet mine.

'My darling!' she whispered, 'May we say we love each other now? Oh, I am so happy at last!'

Ten days later we were even happier. We were married.


verdict n. a decision; a judgment 结论

spare somebody the knowledge of keeping somebody from knowing 不让某人知道……

deadly adj. horrible 可怕的

answer for be responsible 受到惩罚

fairly adv. to a noticeable degree 相当地

13.威胁

凯瑟里克太太奇怪而又不知羞耻的来信使我对她充满了鄙夷。现在,我对珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行已经没有兴趣了,但我还是决定留着这封信,也许它会帮我找出安妮的父亲究竟是谁。

上午晚些时候,我去参加珀西瓦尔爵士死亡的法律调查。他们只让我说说发生了什么,没有问我如何看待钥匙为什么会被拿走,火灾是怎么发生的,或者为什么珀西瓦尔爵士会进到法衣室去。没有人能够解释这些问题,所以调查的最终结论是“意外死亡”。

之后,一位也参加了调查的男子和我一起走回旅店。他从珀西瓦尔爵士的律师那里得知,一个国外的远亲现在要来继承布莱克沃特庄园。很明显,这就是23年前应该继承庄园的那个人。假如我把珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行公之于众,现在对谁都没有好处。假如我不把秘密说出去,这个欺骗劳拉与之结婚的人的真正人品就不会有人知道。但为了劳拉,我愿意保守这个秘密。

我还不能离开汉普郡,因为转天还要去诺雷斯伯里警察局。我在旅店又住了一晚。第二天一早,我去邮局取玛丽安的来信。我们按约定每天通信。玛丽安的来信一直都是好消息。今天早上的来信很短,但却令我害怕。


请尽快回来。我们不得不搬了家。到富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街(5号)来找我们。我也会留意等你。不必为我们担心,我们很安全。一定快回来。玛丽安


出了什么事?我不在的时候,福斯科伯爵又做了什么坏事?尽管非常担心,我还是得等。我付清了旅店的费用,叫了辆马车直奔诺雷斯伯里。

在警察局,不出我所料,没人来继续同我纠缠,我可以走了。半个小时后,我登上了返回伦敦的火车。

大约9点钟,我赶到了富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街。劳拉和玛丽安都到门口迎接我。劳拉的脸色比以前好多了,人也高兴多了,对将来和她的绘画有很多想法。玛丽安的脸上带着倦容和忧虑。看得出她没有把珀西瓦尔死在韦明翰的可怕消息和搬到新住处的真实原因告诉劳拉。劳拉走开以后,我们可以随便谈话了。我想告诉她我非常敬佩她的勇气和她对劳拉表现出的爱。

这位慷慨的姑娘没等我说完就把话题转到我的担忧上来了。

alt

“给你写那样的信,真是对不起——你一定很为我们担心吧。”

“是的,我的确很担心,”我说,“我猜你们搬家是由于福斯科伯爵的威胁,对吗?”

“一点儿不错,”她回答,“我昨天看见他了,更糟糕的是,沃尔特——我跟他说话了。”

“跟他说话了?他去你们的住处了?”

“是的。昨天,我从窗旁走过的时候,看见他在街上。过了一会儿,有人敲门。我马上跑过去开门,就是他,穿一身黑色衣服,光滑的脸上带着吓人的微笑。我关上了身后的门,这样劳拉就看不见他,也听不见他说话了。”

“他都说了什么?”我急切地问。

“他跟我打了招呼,然后再一次重复了他在信中对我的警告。他说他没能阻止珀西瓦尔爵士针对你的恶劣行为,他找到我们的住处是要保护他自己的利益。你第一次去汉普郡回来的时候就被跟踪了,沃尔特。他在听到珀西瓦尔爵士的死讯后才决定登门,因为他认为你下一个对付的目标就是他。”

“让他说对了,”我说,“他说我什么了?”

“他非常冷静而有礼,同时又非常具有威胁性,”玛丽安接着说,“他说,‘请警告哈特里特先生!他要对付的是一个有智慧、有权势的人。叫他对已经得到的东西知足吧。告诉他,如果他跟我对着干,我将不遗余力地干掉他。我会不择手段的。亲爱的小姐,再见。’然后,他用冷酷的灰眼睛看了看我,就走了。

“我赶忙跑进屋,跟劳拉说我们得搬家。为她的健康着想,我们需要一个更安静、空气更好的地方。我说你也希望我们搬家,为什么不现在就搬,等你回来给你一个惊喜呢。她喜欢这个主意,欢天喜地地同意了。我通过一个校友找到这个住处。我做得没错吧,沃尔特?”

我说她做得非常好,这是我的心里话。

但是,她脸上依然带着忧虑,从她的眼神里看得出,她还在害怕伯爵的精明和权势。

“沃尔特,你怎么看他的那些话?下一步你准备怎么做?”

“几星期前,我就决定让劳拉重新在她叔叔家得到应有的承认,”我回答,“现在我还是这样想的。我要让福斯科伯爵为他犯下的罪行付出代价。”

玛丽安的眼睛一亮,虽然没有说话,但是看得出她非常支持这个计划。

“我清楚这样做风险很大,”我说,“但这件事一定要做。我不会愚蠢到没做好准备就动手。我可以等。让他觉得他的话起了作用,认为已经平安无事了。另外,我跟你和劳拉的关系也该比现在更明确。”

“怎么个更明确法?”她吃惊地问。

“玛丽安,我希望你能心平气和地告诉劳拉,她丈夫已经死了。”

“噢,沃尔特,这么快就告诉她?你这样做是不是有什么原因?”

“是的,我现在还不能跟劳拉谈,但总有一天,不会太久,我会告诉她我爱她。”

玛丽安看了我一会儿,然后淡淡地、略带忧伤地笑了笑,“好吧,我明白。我想这是我欠你们的,沃尔特,我会把她丈夫的死讯告诉她。”

第二天,劳拉知道她丈夫死了,她也从这段婚姻中解脱了,那以后我们谁也没再提过她丈夫的名字。

*  *  *

我们的生活恢复了往常的模式,但是我没有忘记伯爵。我了解到他在圣约翰伍德的房子又续租了6个月,因此可以肯定,到了我采取行动的时候,他还会在伦敦,我还可以找到他。

我们终于弄清了安妮·凯瑟里克的父亲是谁。我又去见了克莱门茨太太,告诉她安妮已经死了。她记起凯瑟里克太太当仆人的地方。她的雇主姓多桑。

我们给多桑先生写信,他在回信中告诉我们一些非常有趣的信息。菲利普·费尔利,就是劳拉的父亲,年轻时和他是好友,也是他家里的常客。菲利普风流潇洒,喜欢女色。多桑先生非常肯定凯瑟里克太太在他家当仆人的那段时间,也就是安妮出生的前一年,菲利普·费尔利一直住在他家。

玛丽安和我算了算时间,我们想到安妮和劳拉如此地相像,想到劳拉如此地像她父亲,我们得到了非常肯定的答案。菲利普·费尔利是安妮的父亲,安妮和劳拉是同父异母的姐妹。

现在,那位白衣女人,那位在寂静深夜出现的古怪而哀伤的女人终于可以安息了。

*  *  *

四个月过去了,劳拉的身体渐渐强壮起来,头脑也慢慢清楚了。她几乎又是原来的她了。我们交谈的时候,感觉和当初在利默里奇谈话时一样。当我无意间碰到她的时候,我感到心跳在加速,而且我注意到她也脸红了。

4月,我们到海边度假。在那里,我告诉玛丽安,等回到伦敦,我一定要迫使福斯科伯爵说实话,让他说出劳拉回伦敦的真正日期。

“但是为了劳拉的安全,我想如果我挑战伯爵的话,最好以她丈夫的身份前去,你同意吗,玛丽安?”

“完全同意,”玛丽安说,“我曾让你们两个分开,你在这儿等我一下,我的好朋友!一会儿劳拉就过来,她会告诉你我这次是怎么做的,好吗?”

她吻了吻我的额头,走了出去。我在窗旁等着,眼睛望着海滩,却什么也看不到,我紧张得几乎喘不过气来。门开了,劳拉一个人走进来。我们在利默里奇分手的时候,她是慢慢地走进房间的,神情充满了痛苦和犹豫。这会儿,她跑向我,脸上闪耀着幸福的光芒。她张开手臂紧紧地拥抱我,用甜润的双唇吻着我。

“亲爱的!”她轻声说,“现在我们能对彼此说‘我爱你’了吧?啊,我终于得到幸福了!”

十天以后,我们的幸福又向前迈进了一步,我们结婚了。

14
The confession

A fortnight later, we returned to London, and I began to prepare for my battle with the Count. It was now early May and the rental agreement for his house ended in June. In my new happiness with Laura (to whom we never mentioned the Count's name), I was sometimes tempted to change my mind and to leave things as they were. But she still had dreams, terrible dreams that made her cry out in her sleep, and I knew I had to go on.

First, I tried to find out more about the Count. Marian told me that he had not been back to Italy for many years. Had he been obliged to leave Italy for political reasons, I wondered? But Marian also said that at Blackwater Park he had received official-looking letters with Italian stamps on, which would seem to contradict this idea. Perhaps he was a spy, I thought. That might explain why he had stayed in England so long after the successful completion of his plot. Who could I ask who might know something? Another Italian, perhaps — and I suddenly thought of my old friend, Professor Pesca.

Before I did that, I decided to have a look at the Count, as up to this time I had never once set eyes on him. So one morning I went to Forest Road, St John's Wood, and waited near his house. Eventually, he came out and I followed behind him as he walked towards the centre of London. Marian had prepared me for his enormous size and fashionable clothes, but not for the horrible freshness and cheerfulness and energy of the man.

Near Oxford Street he stopped to read a sign announcing an opera, and then went into the opera ticket office, which was nearby. I went over to read the sign. The opera was being performed that evening, and it seemed likely that the Count would be in the audience.

If I invite Pesca to the opera, I thought, I can point the Count out to him and find out if he knows him. So I bought two tickets myself, sent Pesca a note, and that evening called to take him with me to the opera.

The music had already started when we went in, and all the seats were filled. However, there was room to stand at the sides. I looked around and saw the Count sitting in a seat half-way down, so I placed myself exactly on a line with him, with Pesca standing at my side. When the first part finished, the audience, including the Count, rose to look about them.

When the Count was looking in our direction, I nudged Pesca with my elbow. 'You see that tall fat man? Do you know him?'

'No,' said Pesca. 'Is he famous? Why do you point him out?'

'Because I have a reason for wanting to know more about him. He's an Italian, and his name is Count Fosco. Do you know that name? Look — stand on this step so that you can see him better.'

A slim, fair-haired man, with a scar on his left cheek, was standing near us. I saw him look at Pesca, and then follow the direction of his eyes to the Count. Pesca repeated that he did not know him, and as he spoke, the Count looked our way again.

The eyes of the two Italians met.

In that second I was suddenly convinced that, while Pesca may not have known the Count, the Count certainly knew Pesca!

Not only knew him, but — more surprising still — feared him as well. The Count's face had frozen into a dreadful stillness, the cheeks as pale as death, the cold grey eyes staring in terror.

Nearby, the man with the scar also seemed to be watching with interest the effect that Pesca had had on the Count.

'How the fat man stares!' Pesca said, looking round at me. 'But I've never seen him before in my life.'

As Pesca looked away, the Count turned, moving quickly towards the back of the theatre, where the crowd was thickest. I caught Pesca's arm and, to his great surprise, hurried him with me after the Count. The slim man with the scar had apparently also decided to leave, and was already ahead of us. By the time Pesca and I reached the entrance, neither the Count nor the slim man was in sight.

'Pesca,' I said urgently, 'I must speak to you in private. May we go to your lodgings to talk?'

'What on earth is the matter?' cried Pesca.

I hurried him on without answering. The way the Count had left the theatre, his extraordinary anxiety to avoid Pesca, made me fear that he might go even further — and out of my reach.

In Pesca's lodgings, I explained everything as fast as I could, while Pesca stared at me in great confusion and amazement.

'He knows you — he's afraid of you. He left the theatre to escape you,' I said. 'There must be a reason, Pesca! Think of your own life before you came to England. You left Italy for political reasons. I don't ask what they were. But could that man's terror be connected with your past in some way?'

To my inexpressible surprise, these harmless words seemed to terrify Pesca. His face went white and he started to tremble.

'Walter!' he whispered. 'You don't know what you ask.'

I stared at him. 'Pesca, forgive me. I didn't mean to cause you pain. I spoke only because of what my wife has suffered from that man's cruel actions. You must forgive me.'

I rose to go. He stopped me before I reached the door.

'Wait,' he said. 'You saved my life once. You have a right to hear from me what you want to know, even though I could be killed for it. I only ask that, if you find the connection between my past and that man Fosco, you do not tell me.'

Then, his face still pale as the memories of the past crowded in on him, he told me the story.

'In my youth I belonged — and still belong — to a secret political society. Let's call it the Brotherhood, I can't tell you its real name. But I took too many risks and did something which put other members in danger. So I was ordered to go and live in England and to wait. I went — I have waited — I still wait. I could be called away tomorrow, or in ten years. I cannot know.

'The purpose of the Brotherhood is to fight for the rights of the people. There is a president in Italy, and presidents abroad. Each of these has his secretary. The presidents and secretaries know the members, but members don't know each other, until it's considered necessary. Every member of the Brotherhood is identified by a small round mark burnt into the skin, high up on the inside of their left arm.'

He rolled up his sleeve and showed me his own mark.

'If anyone betrays the Brotherhood,' he went on, 'he is a dead man. Another member, a distant stranger or a neighbour, will be ordered to kill him. No one can leave the society — ever.'

Pesca paused, then continued. 'In Italy I was chosen to be secretary. The members at that time were brought face to face with the president, and were also brought face to face with me. You understand me — I see it in your face. But tell me nothing, I beg you! Let me stay free of a responsibility which horrifies me.

'I do not know the man at the opera,' he said finally. 'If he knows me, he is so changed, or disguised, that I do not know him. Leave me now, Walter. I have said enough.'

'I thank you with all my heart, Pesca,' I said. 'You will never, never regret the trust you have placed in me.'

Walking home, my heart beat with excitement. Here at last, surely, was my weapon against the Count! I was convinced he was a member of the Brotherhood, had betrayed it, and believed that he had been recognized tonight. His life was now in danger. What else could explain his extreme terror at seeing Pesca?

And what would he do next? Leave London as fast as he could. If I went to his house and tried to stop him, he would not hesitate to kill me. To protect myself, I had to make his safety depend on mine. I hurried home and wrote this letter to Pesca:

The man at the opera, Fosco, is a member of your society and has betrayed it. Go instantly to his house at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. I am already dead. Use your power against him without delay.

I signed and dated the letter, and wrote on the envelope: Keep until nine o'clock tomorrow morning. If you do not hear from me before then, open the envelope and read the contents.

I then found a messenger, told him to deliver the letter and bring back a note from Professor Pesca to say he had received it. Twenty minutes later I had the note, and as I was leaving, Marian came to the door, looking anxious.

'It's tonight, isn't it?' she said. 'You're going to the Count.'

'Yes, it's the last chance, and the best.'

'Oh, Walter, not alone! Let me go with you. Don't go alone?'

'No, Marian. You must stay here and guard Laura for me. Then I will be easy in my mind when I face the Count.'

*  *  *

As I approached the Count's house, I passed the man with the scar on his cheek, whom I had noticed earlier at the opera. What was he doing here, I wondered?

I sent in my card, and I still do not know why the Count let me into his house at half past eleven at night. Was he just curious to see me? He would not have known that I was at the opera with Pesca, and I suppose he thought he had nothing to fear from me.

He was still in his evening suit, and there was a travelling case on the floor, with books, papers, and clothes all around him. My guess had been right.

'You come here on business, Mr Hartright?' he said, looking at me with curiosity. 'I cannot think what that might be.'

'You are obviously preparing for a journey,' I said. 'That is my business. I know why you are leaving London.'

'So you know why I am leaving London?' He went over to a table and opened a drawer.' Tell me the reason, if you please.'

'I can show you the reason,' I said. 'Roll up the sleeve on your left arm, and you will see it.'

His cold grey eyes stared into mine. There was a long heartbeat of silence. I was as certain as if I had seen it that he had a gun hidden in the drawer, and that my life hung by a thread.

'Wait a little,' I said. 'Before you act, I advise you to read this note.' Moving slowly and carefully, I passed him Pesca's note.

He read the lines aloud.

Your letter is received. If I don't hear from you before nine o'clock, I will open the envelope when the clock strikes.

Another man might have needed an explanation, but not the Count. His expression changed, and he closed the drawer.

'You are cleverer than I thought,' he said. 'I cannot leave before nine as I have to wait for a passport to be delivered. Your information may be true or may be false — where did you get it?'

'I refuse to tell you.'

'And that unsigned note you showed me — who wrote it?'

'A man whom you have every reason to fear.'

A pause. 'What do you want of me, Mr Hartright? Is it to do with a lady, perhaps?'

'Yes, my wife,' I answered.

He looked at me in real amazement, and I saw at once that he no longer considered me a dangerous man. He folded his arms and listened to me with a cold smile.

'You are guilty of a wicked crime,' I went on. 'But you can keep the money. All I want is a signed confession of the plot and a proof of the date my wife travelled to London.'

'Good!' he said. 'Those are your conditions; here are mine. One, Madame Fosco and I leave the house when we please and you do not try to stop us. Two, you wait here until my agent comes early tomorrow morning and you give him an order to get back your letter unopened. You then allow us half an hour to leave the house. Three, you agree to fight me at a place to be arranged later abroad. Do you accept my conditions — yes or no?'

His quick decision, his cleverness and force of character amazed me. For a second I hesitated. Should I let him escape? Yes, the evidence I needed to prove Laura's identity was far more important than revenge.

'I accept your conditions,' I said.

At once, he called for coffee and sat down to write. He wrote quickly for quite some time. Finally, he jumped up, declared that he had finished and read out his statement, which I accepted as satisfactory. He gave me the address of the company from whom he had hired the cab to collect Laura, and also gave me a letter signed by Sir Percival. It was dated 25th July, and announced the journey of Lady Glyde to London on 26th July. So there it was. On 25th July, the date of her death certificate in London, Laura was alive in Hampshire, about to make a journey the next day.

The Count then called in Madame Fosco to watch me while he slept. Early in the morning his agent arrived and I wrote a note for Pesca. An hour later, the agent returned with my unopened letter and the Count's passport.

'Remember the third condition!' the Count said as he left. 'You will hear from me, Mr Hartright.' Then he and the Countess got into the agent's cab with their bags and drove away, leaving the agent with me to make sure I did not follow.

As I watched them leave, another cab went by and I saw inside the man with the scar on his cheek. What was his business with the Count, I wondered? I had seen him too often now for it to be chance. Perhaps I had fought my own battle with the Count just in time. You cannot get a signed confession out of a dead man.

While I waited for the agreed half hour, I read the document that the Count had written for me.


Statement by Isidor Ottavio Baldassare Fosco

In the summer of 1850 I arrived in England on delicate political business and stayed with my friend, Sir Percival Glyde. We both urgently needed large amounts of money. The only person who had such money was his wife, from whom not a penny could be obtained until her death. To make matters worse, my friend had other private problems. A woman called Anne Catherick was hidden in the neighbourhood, was communicating with Lady Glyde, and knew a secret which could ruin him. And if he was ruined, what would happen to our financial interests?

The first thing to do was to find Anne Catherick, who, I was told, looked very much like Lady Glyde and who had escaped from a mad-house. I had the fantastic idea of changing the names, places and lives of Lady Glyde and Anne Catherick, the one with the other. The wonderful results of this change would be the gain of £ 30,000 and the keeping of Sir Percival's secret.

I found Anne Catherick and persuaded her and her friend to return to London. I rented a house in St John's Wood for myself, and obtained from Mr Fairlie in Limmeridge an invitation for Lady Glyde to visit. For my plan to work, it was necessary for Lady Glyde to leave Blackwater Park alone and stay a night at my house on her way to Limmeridge. This plan was made easier by Miss Halcombe's illness. I returned to Blackwater Park, and when Miss Halcombe was out of danger, I got rid of the doctor and instructed Sir Percival to get rid of the servants.

Next, we sent Mrs Michelson away for a few days, and one night Madame Fosco, Mrs Rubelle and I moved the sleeping Miss Halcombe to an unused part of the house. I left for London in the morning with my wife, leaving Sir Percival to persuade Lady Glyde that her sister had gone to Limmeridge and that she should follow her, breaking her journey in London at my house.

On 24th July, with my wife's help, I got hold of Anne Catherick, and took her to my house as Lady Glyde. However, when she saw no one she recognized, she screamed with fear and, to my horror, the shock to her weak heart caused her to collapse. By the end of the following day, she was dead. Dead on the 25th, and Lady Glyde was not due to arrive in London till the 26th!

It was too late to change the plan. I remained calm and carried on. On the 26th, leaving the false Lady Glyde dead in my house, I collected the true Lady Glyde from the railway station and took her to Mrs Rubelle's house. The two medical men I had hired (shall we say) were easily persuaded to certify the confused and frightened Lady Glyde as mentally ill. Then I gave her a drug and had Mrs Rubelle dress her in Anne Catherick's clothes. The next day, the 27th, she was delivered to the asylum, where she was received with great surprise, but without suspicion. The false Lady Glyde was buried at Limmeridge. I attended the funeral with suitable expressions of deep sympathy.

One final question remains. If Anne Catherick had not died when she did, what would I have done? I would, of course, have given her a happy release from the prison of life.


tempt v. to make someone want to have or do something 引诱

contradict v. be in conflict with 与……相矛盾

perform v. act 表演

nudge v. push gently 轻轻地碰

inexpressible adj. that can not be expressed 难以说清的

disguise v. alter the appearance so as to conceal the identity 伪装

curious adj. eager to learn; inquisitive 好奇的

aloud adv. audibly 出声地

agent n. a person who acts for another in business, politics etc. 代理人

delicate adj. tricky 微妙的

fantastic adj. wonderful 绝好的

14.认罪

两个星期之后,我们回到了伦敦。我开始准备与伯爵的较量。现在是5月初,他租房的期限到6月。享受着与劳拉新婚的幸福(我们从未跟她提起过伯爵),有时我忍不住想改变主意,让一切都过去。但是劳拉仍会做梦,可怕的噩梦,她常常在梦里惊叫起来,因此我明白必须继续原来的计划。

首先,我想尽量多了解一些伯爵的事。玛丽安告诉我,他已经很多年没有回意大利了。我想,他是不是由于政治原因被迫离开意大利的呢?但是玛丽安又说,在布莱克沃特庄园他好像收到过贴着意大利邮票的官方来信,这两者是互相矛盾的。也许他是间谍。这样可以解释为什么他在自己的阴谋得逞后,还在英国逗留那么久。有谁能告诉我答案呢?也许该再找个意大利人问问——猛然间我想到了老朋友,佩斯卡教授。

去见佩斯卡教授前,我决定先去看一下伯爵,因为到目前为止,我还从来没有见过他。于是一天早上,我去了圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特大街,在他的住处附近等他出现。最后,他终于出来了,朝伦敦市中心走去。我在后面跟着他。玛丽安跟我提过他身躯肥胖,衣着入时,但我没想到这个人那么精力旺盛,神采飞扬。

在牛津街附近,他停住脚步看一个歌剧的海报,然后走进了不远处的售票处。我过去看了一下海报,发现演出就在晚上,伯爵很可能会出现在观众当中。

我想假如邀请佩斯卡来看歌剧,就可以把伯爵指给他,看他是否认识。于是,我自己买了两张票,给佩斯卡写了封短信,晚上找他一起去看歌剧。

我们进入剧院的时候,音乐已经响起来了,剧场里座无虚席。不过剧场两边还有站的地方。我环顾四周,看到伯爵坐在前面几排的座位上,于是我也站到了那一排,佩斯卡站在我旁边。第一部分演出结束了,观众们,包括伯爵在内,都起身向周围张望。

在伯爵朝我们这个方向看的时候,我用臂肘碰了一下佩斯卡,“看见那个高大的胖子了吗?你认识他吗?”

“不认识,”佩斯卡回答,“他很有名吗?你为什么让我看他?”

“因为我需要更多地了解关于他的情况。他是意大利人,叫福斯科伯爵。你听说过这个名字吗?来,站这个台阶上,你会看得更清楚些。”

一个瘦瘦的金发男子站在我们的旁边,他的左脸上有一道疤。我注意到他看了看佩斯卡,又顺着佩斯卡的视线看了看伯爵。佩斯卡再一次对我说,他不认识那个人,就在他说话的时候,伯爵朝我们这边看过来。

这两个意大利人的目光相遇了。

那一瞬间,我敢肯定地说,佩斯卡可能不认识伯爵,但伯爵一定认识佩斯卡!

不仅是认识,更令人惊奇的是伯爵害怕佩斯卡。伯爵脸上的表情凝固了,像死人一样毫无血色,冷酷的灰眼睛恐惧地盯着这边。

脸上有疤的人似乎饶有兴趣地在一旁看着佩斯卡对伯爵的影响。

“那个胖子怎么那样看着我!”佩斯卡说,转过头看着我,“我从未见过他呀。”

佩斯卡扭头的时候,伯爵转身快步向剧场后边走去,那里人最多。我一把抓住佩斯卡的胳膊,不顾他的惊讶,拉着他紧追伯爵。那个脸上有疤的瘦子显然也准备离开剧场,并且已经走到了我们的前面。等我和佩斯卡赶到入口,伯爵和那个瘦子都已经不见了。

“佩斯卡,”我赶忙说,“我必须和你单独谈谈,我们到你的住处去谈可以吗?”

“这到底是怎么回事?”佩斯卡大声说。

我没回答,只是催着他赶紧走。伯爵离开剧场的样子,还有他迫不及待地要躲避佩斯卡,使我担心他可能会逃得更远——我可能再也找不到他了。

到了佩斯卡的住处,我以最快的速度向他讲述了事情的经过,他充满迷惑和惊讶地望着我。

他认识你——他很怕你。他离开剧场就是要逃避你,”我说,“这其中一定有原因,佩斯卡!回忆一下你来英国以前的经历。你是由于政治原因离开意大利的,我不是问你那些政治原因,不过那个人如此惊慌会不会同你的过去有什么关联?”

令我非常吃惊的是,这些本来无关紧要的话好像令佩斯卡非常惊恐。他的脸色变得煞白,身体开始颤抖。

“沃尔特!”他低声说,“你不知道你问了什么。”

我两眼紧盯着他,“佩斯卡,请原谅。我不是有意要给你带来痛苦,我说那些话只是因为那个人给我妻子带来了巨大的伤害。请你原谅我。”

我起身要离开,还没走到门口,他叫住了我。

“等一下,”他说,“你救过我的命,你有权从我这里知道你想要知道的东西,即使这会要了我的命。我唯一的请求是,即使你发现了我的过去同那个福斯科的关系,你也不要告诉我。”

接着,他开始讲他的经历,过去的记忆卷土重来,令他脸色煞白。

“我年轻的时候参加了一个秘密政治社团,现在还是它的成员。我们姑且叫它兄弟社团,我不能告诉你真实的名称。我当时完成了很多出生入死的任务,也做了一些给其他成员带来危险的事,所以社团命令我到英国待命。我服从命令来了英国——一直在等——现在还在等。我可能明天就被召回,也许是10年以后。我不知道。

“兄弟社团的宗旨是为人民争取权利。它在意大利有一个主席,国外有很多主席。每个主席都有秘书。主席和秘书认识所有的成员,但除非在必要的情况下,成员们彼此都不认识。每个兄弟社团成员的左臂内侧靠上的地方都有一个很小的圆形烙印,这是他们的记号。”

他卷起衣袖,给我看他自己的烙印。

“任何人背叛了兄弟社团,”他接着说,“他肯定会被处死。其他成员,也许是一个他不认识的陌生人,也许是他的邻居,会奉命杀死他。任何人不能退出社团——永远都不可以。”

佩斯卡停了一会儿又说:“在意大利,我被选为秘书,所有的成员那时都被带来见主席,当然也就见到了。你明白了我的意思——我从你的表情看出来了。但是,什么也别跟我说,求你了!我不想做我必须做的事,我感到害怕。

“我不认识剧场的那个人,”他最后说,“如果他认识,那他一定跟以前变化很大,或者伪装了自己,让我认不出来了。你现在走吧,沃尔特。我说得够多了。”

“我衷心地感谢你,佩斯卡,”我说,“你永远不会为信任我而后悔的。”

走在回家的路上,我的心情激动不已。我终于找到了对付伯爵的武器。我敢肯定他原来是一个兄弟社团成员,后来背叛了社团,他认为自己今晚被认出来了。现在他的生命很危险。不然他见到佩斯卡为什么那样害怕呢?

那他接着会做什么呢?尽快离开伦敦。如果我去他的住处拦住他,他肯定会毫不犹豫地杀了我。为保护我自己,我必须让他的生命安全地攥在我的手里。我赶忙回到家,给佩斯卡写了一封信:

剧场的那个人,福斯科,是你们社团的一个成员,他背叛了社团。赶快到他的住处圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特街5号。我已经死了。请用你的力量立即干掉他。

我签了名,写上日期,又在信封上写道:等到明天上午9点。如果到那时还没有我的消息,再打开信封读里面的内容。

然后,我找了一个信使,叫他把信送走并带回佩斯卡的回复,说他已经收到信了。20分钟后,我拿到了回复的纸条。我刚要离开,玛丽安出现在门口,脸上露出担忧的表情。

“就是今天晚上吗?”她说,“你要去找伯爵。”

“对,这是最后的机会,也是最好的机会。”

“噢,沃尔特,别一个人去!让我跟你去吧,不要一个人去!”

“不行,玛丽安。你必须留在这里替我保护劳拉。那样,我面对伯爵的时候才会放心。”

*  *  *

快到伯爵住处的时候,我碰见了脸上有疤的那个人,早些时候在剧场就见过他。他在这儿做什么,我心里很纳闷。

我把名片递进去,我到现在也不明白,为什么夜里11点半伯爵还让我进去。他对我好奇,想见我?他并不知道我和佩斯卡同在剧场,我猜想他觉得我没有什么好怕的。

他还穿着晚礼服,地上有一个旅行箱,他周围满是书籍、文件和衣服。我猜的没错。

“你来这里有事,哈特里特先生?”他一边说,一边用好奇的眼光打量我,“我想不出会是什么事。”

“你像是在准备出门旅行,”我说,“这就是我来的原因。我知道你为什么要离开伦敦。”

“你知道我为什么要离开伦敦?”他走到一张桌旁,打开抽屉,“如果你愿意,说说为什么。”

“我可以让你看看为什么,”我说,“把你左边的衣袖卷起,就能看到。”

他那冷酷的灰眼睛一动不动地盯着我。接下来是一阵令人紧张的寂静。我就像亲眼所见一样清楚,那抽屉里藏着枪,我现在命悬一线。

“等一下,”我说,“你动手之前,我建议你看看这个纸条。”我慢慢地、小心翼翼地把佩斯卡的纸条递给他。

他出声读着纸条。

你的信收到了。如果9点以前没有你的消息,9点整,钟一响我就打开信封。

假如换作另外一个人,可能需要一些解释,但伯爵不需要。他脸上的表情变了,他关上了抽屉。

“你比我想的要聪明,”他说,“我9点以前走不了,我得等人给我送护照来。你得到的信息可能是真的,也可能是假的。你是从哪儿知道的?”

“我不会告诉你的。”

“你给我的没有签名的纸条是谁写的?”

“一个你非常害怕的人。”

他停了一会儿,“你要我做什么,哈特里特先生?是不是跟一位女士有关?”

“是的,是我妻子。”我回答。

他非常吃惊地看着我。看得出他不再认为我会给他带来危险了。他双手交叉抱在胸前,面带冷笑听我继续说下去。

“你犯下了严重的罪行,”我接着说道,“但是,你可以留着你得到的钱。我只要一个由你签名的认罪书,还有我妻子回伦敦的日期证明。”

“好!”他说,“这是你的条件,我的条件是:第一,福斯科夫人和我在我们愿意的时候离开这里,你不要阻止我们。第二,你呆在这里,明天一早我的代理人过来,你让他取回那封还没有打开的信。然后,你要给我们半个小时的时间离开这里。第三,你答应跟我在国外找一个地方决斗。你接受我的条件吗——是还是否?”

他的迅速决断,他的精干和意志力令我震惊。我犹豫了一会儿。我应该让他逃走吗?是的,证明劳拉身份的证据比复仇重要得多。

“我接受你的条件。”我说。

他随即叫人拿来咖啡,坐下开始写。他落笔如飞,写了很长时间。最后,他站起来,说他已经写完了并念给我听。我觉得还满意。他给了我他租车接劳拉的那家公司的地址,同时给我的还有珀西瓦尔爵士签名的一封信。信的日期是7月25日,里面说格莱德夫人将于7月26日启程去伦敦。这就是证据。7月25日,即死亡证明上宣告劳拉死于伦敦的日子,劳拉还在汉普郡活着准备第二天的旅行。

然后,伯爵把福斯科夫人叫进来,让她看着我,他自己去睡觉。第二天一早,他的代理人来了,我给佩斯卡写了封短信。一个小时后,代理人拿着我那封没打开的信和护照回来了。

“别忘了第三个条件!”伯爵临走时说,“你会收到我的信的,哈特里特先生。”说完,他和伯爵夫人坐上代理人的马车离开了这里,代理人留下来,确保我不跟踪他们。

我看着他们离开,这时另一辆马车驶过去,车里坐着那个脸上有疤的人。他和伯爵有什么瓜葛?我看到他好几次了,不应该是巧合。或许我跟伯爵的较量正是时候。他要是死了,我就没法得到他签名的笔录了。

在约定的半小时里,我读了伯爵写给我的认罪书。

伊西多·奥塔维奥·鲍尔德塞尔·福斯科的证词

1850年夏天,由于微妙的政治原因我来到英国,同我的朋友珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士住在一起。我们两人都急需一大笔钱。唯一拥有这笔钱的人是他妻子,但是他妻子不死,我们一分钱也得不到。更糟糕的是,我的朋友又遇到了别的麻烦事。一个叫安妮·凯瑟里克的女人藏在我们附近,她在同格莱德夫人接触,并且掌握着一个可以毁掉珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。如果他完蛋了,那我们的经济利益怎么办呢?

我们要做的第一件事就是找到安妮·凯瑟里克。我了解到她的长相和格莱德夫人极为相似。她是从精神病院逃出来的。我突发奇想,把格莱德夫人同安妮·凯瑟里克的名字、住处、经历互换一下。互换的结果既可以让我们得到3万英镑,又能够保住珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。

我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,说服她和她的朋友回伦敦去。我自己在圣约翰伍德租了房子,同时从利默里奇的费尔利先生那里得到了邀请格莱德夫人去看望他的信。要实现我的计划,必须让格莱德夫人一个人离开布莱克沃特庄园,在去往利默里奇的途中在我家里住一夜。哈尔库姆小姐的病让我的计划更容易进行了。我回到布莱克沃特庄园,等哈尔库姆小姐一脱离危险,就辞退了医生,并且让珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了所有仆人。

下一步,我们让米切尔森太太离开庄园几天。一天晚上,福斯科夫人、鲁贝尔太太和我把昏睡中的哈尔库姆小姐抬到了一个没有人住的房间里。转天一早,我和夫人赶往伦敦,留下珀西瓦尔爵士劝说格莱德夫人,让她相信她姐姐已经去了利默里奇,她也应该去找她,途中在伦敦我的家休息。

7月24日,在我妻子的协助下,我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,把她带到我的住处,假装就是格莱德夫人。然而,当安妮·凯瑟里克看到没有一个她认识的人时,吓得叫了起来。令我非常害怕的是,惊吓使她脆弱的心脏无法承受,转天她就死了。她是25日死的,可是格莱德夫人26日才能到伦敦!

改变计划已经来不及了。我尽量保持头脑冷静,继续着原来的计划。26日,我把已死的假格莱德夫人留在家里,到车站去接真正的格莱德夫人,带她到鲁贝尔太太家。我雇用的(可以这样说)两个医生很容易就被说服了,他们证明迷惑而惊恐的格莱德夫人患了精神病。而后,我给她吃了镇静药,让鲁贝尔太太给她穿上安妮·凯瑟里克的衣服。第二天,也就是27日,格莱德夫人被送进精神病院,那里的人非常吃惊,但没有人怀疑。假格莱德夫人被埋葬在利默里奇。我出席了葬礼,表现出应有的悲伤与同情。

还有最后一个问题,如果安妮·凯瑟里克没有死的话,我会怎么办呢?我当然很高兴帮她摆脱牢笼般的人生。

15
The proof

When the half hour had passed, I returned home. After a brief explanation to Laura and Marian, I hurried back to St John's Wood to find the cab-driver whom the Count had hired to collect Laura at the station. He wrote me a statement, which he and a witness signed, saying that on 26th July 1850 he had driven a Count Fosco to the railway station where they had collected a Lady Glyde. He remembered Lady Glyde's name, he said, from the labels on her luggage.

Then I went to Mr Kyrle's office and presented him with the proof of Laura's identity — the letter from Sir Percival, the statement by the cab-driver, the confession by the Count, and the death certificate. Amazed, he congratulated me, and agreed to accompany us to Limmeridge the next day, where I intended to have Laura publicly received and recognized.

Early the next morning Laura, Marian, Mr Kyrle and I took the train to Limmeridge. Laura and Marian stayed at first in a hotel while Mr Kyrle and I went to the house to deal with Mr Fairlie. He complained like a child, saying how was he to know his niece was alive when he was told she was dead? Between us, the lawyer and I made him sign letters calling all those who had attended the false funeral to come to the house the next day.

As I led Laura into her childhood home the following morning, there was a murmur of surprise and interest from the waiting crowd of villagers and neighbours. The business was soon done. I read out the story of the plot against Laura, and Mr Kyrle announced that everything I had said was proved by the strongest evidence. I put my arm around Laura, raised her up, and called to the crowd:

'Are you all agreed that this is the Laura Fairlie you knew?'

'There she is, alive and well — God bless her!' It was an old man at the back of the room who began it, and in an instant everybody was shouting and cheering together.

Later, in the churchyard, we watched a stone worker remove Laura's name from the gravestone. In its place he put this:

ANNE CATHERICK

25TH JULY 1850

We returned to London the following day, happy in the thought that the long struggle was now over.

*  *  *

Several days later Pesca came to see me, and asked for a quiet word in my ear. He had just returned from Paris.

'I have news for you, my friend,' he said. 'You need not worry any more about the man at the opera. His body was found in the river Seine yesterday and now lies in the morgue in Paris. He was killed by knife wounds to the heart.'

'Count Fosco is dead?' I said, amazed. 'Are you sure?'

'I saw the body with my own eyes. He was wearing a French workman's clothes, and had a different name, of course, but he was the fat man we saw at the opera that night. No question.'

'But how do you know this?' I asked.

Pesca hesitated. 'A man brought me some information,' he said. 'I had to see the body, and send a report about it.'

'A man,' I said. 'What kind of man?'

'A stranger,' said Pesca. 'I didn't know him. A man with a scar on his left cheek.' He saw the understanding in my face, and held up his hand. 'No more questions, my friend. Please!'

We never spoke about it again, but I think Pesca was telling me that the Brotherhood had taken their revenge. And so Count Fosco, that extraordinary, evil man, passed from this world.

*  *  *

The following year our first child was born — a son. Six months later my newspaper sent me to Ireland and, when I returned, I found a note from my wife saying she and Marian and little Walter had gone to Limmeridge House. She begged me to follow as soon as possible. Very surprised, I caught the next train. When I got there, Marian and Laura told me Mr Fairlie was dead and that Mr Kyrle had advised them to go to Limmeridge House.

Laura came close to me and I half realized some great change was happening in our lives.

'Do you know who this is, Walter?' Marian asked, holding up my little son, with tears of happiness in her eyes. 'This is the boy who will one day inherit Limmeridge House.'

So she spoke. In writing those last words, I have written everything. Marian was the good friend of our lives — let Marian end our story.


label n. a small piece of paper, card etc. attached to an object and giving information about it 标签

congratulate v. express pleasure at the happiness or good fortune or excellence of a person 祝贺

morgue n. a room or building in which dead bodies may be kept until burial or cremation 停尸间

15.证据

alt

那半个小时过去了,我回到家里。简单地向劳拉和玛丽安说明了情况后,我立即赶回圣约翰伍德去找那个伯爵雇来到车站接劳拉的车夫。那人给我写了份证词,他和另一个证人都签了字。证词说,1850年7月26日他驾车送福斯科伯爵去车站,接了一位格莱德夫人。他说还记得格莱德夫人的名字,是在行李标签上看到的。

然后,我去了克尔先生的办公室,给他看了证明劳拉身份的证据——珀西瓦尔爵士的信、马车夫的证词、伯爵的认罪书和那份死亡证明。克尔先生很吃惊,接着向我表示祝贺并且答应第二天陪我们到利默里奇,我准备让人们公开地接受和认可劳拉。

转天的一大早,劳拉、玛丽安、克尔先生和我乘火车前往利默里奇。劳拉和玛丽安先在一家旅店里休息,克尔先生和我去庄园与费尔利先生交涉。费尔利先生像孩子一样抱怨说,有人告诉他他侄女死了,他怎么会知道他侄女还活着?在只有我们三个人的情况下,克尔先生和我让他在事先准备好的信上签字,邀请所有参加那场假葬礼的人第二天到费尔利家来。

第二天早晨,当我带着劳拉走进她儿时的家时,等候在那里的村民和邻居们发出惊奇的低语声。很快我们进入了正题。我大声宣读了针对劳拉的罪恶阴谋的全过程,克尔先生当众宣布我说的每一件事都证据确凿。我搂住劳拉,扶她起来,高声对众人说:

“你们说这是不是你们认识的劳拉·费尔利?”

“是她,她还好好地活着——上帝保佑她!”一位站在屋子后面的老人首先说,其他人也都立刻欢呼起来。

后来,在教堂墓地里,我们亲眼看着一位石匠把劳拉的名字从墓碑上凿去,在原来的地方刻上:

安妮·凯瑟里克

卒于1850年7月25日

转天,我们返回了伦敦,想到漫长的斗争终于结束了,我们都非常高兴。

*  *  *

过了几天,佩斯卡来看我,要跟我单独聊聊。他刚从巴黎回来。

“我有重要的消息要告诉你,我的朋友,”他说,“你不用再担心剧场里的那个人了,昨天在塞纳河发现了他的尸体,现在他的尸体停放在巴黎的停尸间。他是被人用刀子刺进心脏而死的。”

“福斯科伯爵已经死了?”我吃惊地问,“你能肯定吗?”

“我亲眼看了他的尸体,他穿着法国工人的制服,当然也换了名字,但他就是那天晚上我们在剧场见到的那个胖子。一点儿没错。”

“可你是怎么知道这个消息的呢?”我问。

佩斯卡犹豫了一下。“有人告诉我的,”他说,“我必须亲眼看到他的尸体,然后发一个报告。”

“有人,”我说,“是什么人?”

“一个陌生人,”佩斯卡回答,“我不认识那个人,他的左脸上有一道疤。”看到我脸上了然的表情,他抬了抬手,“请不要多问了,我的朋友!”

我们再没有提起这件事,不过我想佩斯卡是要告诉我兄弟社团已经采取了复仇行动。就这样,福斯科伯爵,那个能力不俗的恶徒从这个世界上消失了。

*  *  *

第二年,我们的第一个孩子出世了——是个儿子。6个月以后,我供职的那家报社派我去了爱尔兰。我回来的时候,看到妻子留给我的一封短信,信上说她和玛丽安还有小沃尔特去了利默里奇庄园。她让我尽快去找他们。我感到很惊讶,赶下一班火车去了那里。我到那儿之后,玛丽安和劳拉告诉我费尔利先生去世了,是克尔先生建议她们到利默里奇庄园去的。

劳拉走到我身边,我朦胧地意识到我们的生活将要发生什么大事。

“你知道这是谁吗,沃尔特?”玛丽安一边举起我的小儿子,一边问我,眼睛里充满了喜悦的泪水,“这个孩子将来有一天会继承利默里奇庄园。”

她就是这样说的。写完了最后几句话,我的讲述就到这里了。玛丽安是我们的终生好友——就让她结束我们的故事吧。

12.The secret

PART THREE
THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
第三部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

9
The gravestone

On 13th October 1850 I left the wild forests of Central America and returned to England. I had escaped death by disease, death by war, and death by drowning, and hoped that these experiences had strengthened me to face my future — a future without Laura Fairlie. I still remembered her as Laura Fairlie, and could not think of her by her husband's name.

The first thing I did was to visit my mother and sister in their Hampstead cottage. The joy of our meeting, however, soon turned to sadness. I have no secrets from my mother, and when I saw the loving pity in her eyes, I feared the worst.

The news was soon told. I tried hard not to let my sorrow spoil the happiness of my return for my mother and sister, but by the third day I knew I had to go away alone for a while.

'Let me go up to Limmeridge,' I begged my mother. 'I can bear it better when I have seen her grave.'

It was a warm autumn afternoon when I arrived at the station and walked down the familiar road, seeing in the distance the high white walls of Limmeridge House. In the churchyard I found the grave and knelt down beside the gravestone, closing my eyes.

Oh my love! My Love! My dear, dear Love!

Hours passed, and the evening sunlight threw long shadows among the sleeping places of the dead. I had lost all sense of time, kneeling there. Then, in the silence, I heard the soft sound of footsteps on the grass.

I looked up.

Beyond me, standing together by the churchyard wall, were two women, their veils down, hiding their faces. They were looking towards the grave, looking towards me.

Two.

They came closer, and stopped. One of them lifted her veil, and in the still evening light I saw the face of Marian Halcombe. A changed face. Thin and pale, full of pain and fear.

The woman with the veiled face came towards me slowly. Marian Halcombe sank to her knees, murmuring, 'Oh God, help him! Please, please help him, God!'

The veiled woman came on, slowly and silently. I looked at her — at her, and at no one else, from that moment. She had possession of me, body and soul. She stopped by the side of the gravestone, and we stood face to face with the grave between us.

'Oh God, help him, help him!'

The woman lifted her veil.

In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde...

Laura, Lady Glyde, was standing by the gravestone, looking at me over her grave.

*  *  *

A life suddenly changed. A new future before me, like the sunlit view from a mountain top. I leave my story in the quiet shadow of Limmeridge church, and begin again, one week later, in the noise and rush of a London street.

I have rented rooms under a different name. Marian and Laura, using the same name, are said to be my sisters. I earn our bread by doing drawings for cheap magazines. We employ no servant; my elder sister, Marian, does the housework with her own hands. Marian and I are known to be the friends of mad Anne Catherick (address unknown), who falsely claims the identity of Lady Glyde. To the rest of the world, Laura, Lady Glyde, is dead. Dead to her uncle, who has refused to recognize her; dead to the lawyers, who have passed her fortune to her husband and aunt.

But to Marian and me she is alive! Penniless and sadly changed — her beauty faded, her mind confused — but alive, with her poor drawing teacher to fight her battles and to win her way back to the world of living beings. She is mine at last — mine to support, to protect, to defend. And mine to love.


drown v. to kill by submerging and suffocating in liquid 淹死;溺死

strengthen v. make stronger 变得坚强

veil n. a piece of fabric attached to a woman's hat 面纱

earn one's bread earn one's living 维持生计

penniless adj. having no money 身无分文的

9.墓碑

1850年10月13日我离开中美洲的原始森林,回到了英国。我一次次逃过疾病、战争和洪水带来的死亡危险。我希望这些经历能够使我更加坚强地面对未来——没有劳拉的未来。在我心里她依然是劳拉·费尔利,我无法把她冠以她丈夫的姓氏。

我回来后的第一件事是到汉普斯特德看望母亲和妹妹。欢聚的快乐很快转化为悲伤。我没有任何秘密瞒着母亲,从她充满爱怜和同情的眼光里,我预感到最坏的事情发生了。

她们把消息告诉了我。我尽最大努力不让自己的悲哀破坏我回家带给母亲和妹妹的喜悦。但是,回来的第三天,我觉得必须一个人离开一段时间。

“让我到利默里奇去一趟吧,”我恳求着母亲,“看到她的坟墓,我可以更好地接受这一切。”

那是一个秋日的午后,天气很暖和,我到达目的地车站,走在熟悉的大路上,望着远处利默里奇庄园的白色高墙。在教堂墓地里,我找到了劳拉的墓,在她的墓碑前跪下来,闭上了双眼。

我的爱人我的爱人我最亲爱的人

几个小时过去了,落日的余辉在死者的安息地投下长长的影子。我跪在那里,完全没有了时间概念。这时,寂静中传来人走在草地上的脚步声。

我抬起头来。

不远处,教堂墓地的围墙边站着两个女人,面纱遮住了她们的脸。她们正朝墓地张望,正朝张望。

两个女人。

她们朝我走来。其中一个掀起了面纱,借着仅有的一点儿光线,我看出那是玛丽安·哈尔库姆小姐。她的脸变得跟从前不一样了:清瘦而苍白,充满了痛苦和恐惧。

头戴面纱的女人缓慢地向我走来。玛丽安·哈尔库姆跪下来,轻声说:“噢,上帝,帮帮他吧,帮帮他吧,上帝!”

头戴面纱的女人向我走来,缓慢地,无言地向我走来。我注视着她——目不转睛地久久注视着她。她占据了我的一切,我的灵魂和肉体。她在墓碑前停住脚步,我们隔着坟墓互相注视着。

“噢,上帝,帮帮他,帮帮他吧!”

那个女人掀起了面纱。

爱妻劳拉·格莱德夫人之墓……

劳拉·格莱德夫人,她就站在墓碑旁,隔着坟墓望着我。

alt

*  *  *

生活突然间变了。一个崭新的未来展现在我的面前,就像在山顶上看到的撒满阳光的景色。我把过去的故事留在了利默里奇教堂那寂静的阴影中,一星期后在喧闹、繁忙的伦敦开始了新的生活。

我换了一个姓氏租了房子。玛丽安和劳拉也用同样的姓氏,对外人就说是我的姐妹。我靠给廉价杂志画画维持生计。我们没有请仆人,我的姐姐,玛丽安亲自做家务。我和玛丽安对外就说是疯女人安妮·凯瑟里克(住址不详)的朋友,那疯女人总说自己是格莱德夫人。对世界上其他人来说,劳拉·格莱德夫人已经死了;对拒不承认她的叔叔,她已经死了;对把她的财产转给她丈夫和姑妈的律师,她也已经死了。

但是对于玛丽安和我,她还活着!她身无分文,人也变了——她的美丽在消逝,头脑一片混乱——但她还活着,她那可怜的绘画教师要为她奋争,使她重新回到真实的生活中来。她终于属于我了——由我供养、呵护、保护,由我所爱。

10
The rescue

At the first opportunity we had, Marian told me everything that had happened to her and Laura. The hardest part for her was after she had returned to Limmeridge House.

'I was in despair, Walter,' she said. 'Mr Kyrle's investigation was finished, and had shown nothing, he said. Mr Fairlie was no help at all — I heard that he didn't even leave his room to go to the funeral! But he did show me a letter he'd received from Count Fosco, which contained news of Anne Catherick. The Count said that Anne Catherick had been found and put back in the asylum from which she had escaped. But because she hated Sir Percival and wanted to make trouble for him, she was now claiming that she was not Anne Catherick at all, but Lady Glyde. The Count warned Mr Fairlie that if she escaped again, she might try to annoy members of Lady Glyde's family.

'I wasn't well enough to do anything for about a month after returning to Limmeridge, but when I felt stronger, I decided to make some investigations myself. First, I planned to visit the asylum in London and talk to poor Anne Catherick, to find out why she was claiming to be Laura. I knew the address because you had given it to me, all those months ago.

'Well, Walter, you can guess what's coming, I'm sure. The director of the asylum, who seemed an honest person, told me that Anne Catherick had been brought back on 27th July. He was puzzled by some odd personal changes in her, but assumed they were caused by her mental illness. He then called a nurse to take me to Anne Catherick, who was walking in the gardens.

'Imagine the shock, Walter — seeing my dead sister walking towards me in that garden! We just ran into each other's arms, unable to say a word. How the nurse stared at us!'

'I think I know how you must have felt,' I said. 'I shall never forget in the churchyard at Limmeridge... But tell me, however did you get Laura out of the asylum?'

'Bribery, Walter. I didn't want to risk a legal battle and all the delay that would involve, so I persuaded the nurse that a terrible mistake had been made and she would be doing a good thing in helping Anne Catherick escape. And I offered her £400. The plan went smoothly, and by early afternoon the next day Laura and I were on the train to Cumberland.'

'And Laura?' I asked. 'What actually happened on the day she left Blackwater Park and came to London?'

Marian sighed. 'Oh, Walter, it's not at all clear. Poor Laura's mind is so confused now that her memory of events is very unreliable. She can't even remember the date she left Blackwater. All she has been able to tell me is this. The Count met her at the station, and said that I was still in London and that he would take her to see me at once. She doesn't remember where the cab went, but it was clearly not to his house in St John's Wood. She was taken to a house in a narrow street, where people came and went, asking her questions she didn't understand. At this point the Count told her I was now very ill; she was so frightened by this news she nearly fainted. Someone then gave her a glass of water, which she said tasted odd — and after that she lost consciousness.'

'Poor, poor Laura,' I murmured.

'She woke up,' Marian continued, 'in the asylum, unable to leave, unable to make contact with the outside world. She was called by Anne Catherick's name and found she was wearing clothes with Anne Catherick's name on them. She was told Lady Glyde was dead and buried, and that she was Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick... Day in, day out, from 27th July to 15th October, she was made to feel that she was mad. It's hardly surprising her mind is so confused now.'

'And what happened at Limmeridge?' I asked.

Marian turned her face away. 'I can't bear to think about it,' she said. 'The worst part was taking Laura into Mr Fairlie's room. He looked straight into Laura's face and said, "My niece is buried in Limmeridge churchyard. I don't recognize this woman. Remove her from my house before I call on the law to protect me." Even the servants were doubtful about her identity, because she was so much changed and so confused by her experiences. Perhaps people would have been persuaded if we'd stayed longer, but I didn't dare risk it. At any minute the people from the asylum might come looking for us, so I decided to return to London at once and hide. Then, as we were passing the churchyard, Laura insisted on a last look at her mother's grave. And... well, that moment changed our three lives.'

'I think God was guiding Laura's footsteps,' I said.

How well I remember that day — that moment when Laura laid her poor head innocently and trustingly on my shoulder, and said, 'They have tried to make me forget everything, Walter, but I remember Marian, and I remember you.'

*  *  *

The plot against Laura was now clear. Anne Catherick had been taken into Count Fosco's house as Lady Glyde, and Lady Glyde had taken the dead woman's place in the asylum. It was also clear that the three of us could expect no mercy from Count Fosco and Sir Percival, who between them had gained £30,000 from the plot. They would do everything in their power to prevent their crime being discovered, and would hunt for their victim to separate her from her only friends — Marian and myself. This is why I had chosen a poor and crowded part of London to live in. It is easier to hide in a place where people are always coming and going.

Our life quickly took on a regular pattern — work, watching out for our enemies, and care of Laura, whom we surrounded with a gentle, protective love, helping her slowly but steadily to recover her balance of mind and her self-confidence.

Meanwhile, Marian and I began the battle. We studied the statements that Mr Kyrle had taken from witnesses — the doctor, and the servants and cook in Count Fosco's house. I obtained a copy of Lady Glyde's death certificate, and Marian wrote to Mrs Michelson, who replied, saying that she could not remember the exact date of Laura's departure from Blackwater Park. Nor could she remember when the letter announcing Laura's death, which was undated, had arrived from Madame Fosco.

I also arranged to visit Mr Kyrle, to ask for his help. After listening to my long explanation, the lawyer shook his head.

'My legal opinion, Mr Hartright, is that you won't win this case in a court of law. I accept, of course, that the identity of Lady Glyde as a living person is a proved fact to Miss Halcombe and yourself. But there is no evidence. If you could prove that the date on the death certificate was earlier than the date of Lady Glyde's journey to London, then you might have a case.'

As I left, he gave me a letter that had been delivered to him for Marian, and told me, in answer to my question, that Sir Percival Glyde had returned to London.

Outside in the street I soon noticed two men following me, and realized too late that the Count's spies must have been watching the lawyer's office, in the hope that Marian or I would go there. I went home by a very long route and managed to lose them, but it was a warning to me to be more careful.

Marian was very worried when I told her about the two men. Then I gave her the letter. She recognized the writing instantly.

'It's from Count Fosco.'


Dear and admirable woman, do not be afraid! Stay hidden, with your gentle companion, and nothing will happen to you. Challenge nothing, threaten nobody. Do not, I beg you, force me into action. If Mr Hartright returns to England, do not speak to him. If he crosses my path, he is a Lost man. F.


'Walter!' Marian said, her eyes flashing with anger. 'If ever the Count and Sir Percival are at your mercy and you must spare one of them, don't let it be the Count.'

'I'll keep this letter to remind me when the time comes,' I said. 'But tomorrow I will go to Blackwater, to try and find out the date of Laura's journey to London. It's the one weak point in their plot.'

'You mean that perhaps Laura did not leave for London until after the date on the death certificate?'

'Exactly. I think she left on 26th July. The Director of the asylum said she was taken there on the 27th. I doubt if they could have kept her drugged more than one night. We know from Mrs Michelson that Sir Percival left on the same day as Laura. I'll ask everyone in the village if they remember when he left.'

'And if that fails?'

'If that fails, Marian, I'll force a confession from Sir Percival. We have one weapon against him — his secret. Anne Catherick said that if his secret was known, it would ruin him. I intend to find out that secret. The woman in white, though dead in her grave, is still with us and is showing us the way!'


bribery n. persuading a person to act in one's favor by a gift of money or services 贿赂

unreliable adj. not liable 不可靠的

plot n. a conspiracy or secret plan esp. to achieve an unlawful end 阴谋

mercy n. kindness, pity, and willingness to forgive 仁慈

cross one's path meet sb by chance 与…偶然相遇

flash v. burst 闪烁

10.营救

我们刚一有机会交谈,玛丽安就把她和劳拉的遭遇从头到尾讲给我听。最令她难过的是回到利默里奇之后的经历。

“我太绝望了,沃尔特,”她说,“克尔先生的调查结束了,他说什么也没发现。费尔利先生一点儿忙也不帮——我听说他甚至都没离开他的房间去参加葬礼!不过他倒是把福斯科伯爵的信给了我,信里面有安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。伯爵说安妮·凯瑟里克已经找到了,被送回了原来的精神病院。但是,凯瑟里克因为痛恨珀西瓦尔爵士,想给他找麻烦,所以她现在自称不是安妮·凯瑟里克,而是格莱德夫人。伯爵提醒费尔利先生,假如她再逃出来,很可能要给格莱德夫人的家人添乱子。

“回来的头一个月,我身体虚弱,什么也干不了。后来身体恢复了,我决定亲自去调查。首先,我准备去伦敦的精神病院找可怜的安妮·凯瑟里克谈谈,弄清楚为什么她要自称是劳拉。我知道地址,是你几个月前给我的。

“噢,沃尔特,我相信你能猜到接下来发生的事情。精神病院的院长看上去是个正直的人,他告诉我,安妮·凯瑟里克是7月27日被送回来的。他对凯瑟里克身上的变化感到很困惑,但他推测是由于精神方面的疾病造成的。然后,他叫一名护士带我去见安妮·凯瑟里克,她正在花园散步。

“想象一下,当时我有多么震惊,沃尔特——我看到自己死去的妹妹在花园里朝我走来!我们跑向对方,紧紧地抱在一起,一句话也说不出来。护士不解地望着我们。”

“我很清楚你当时的心情,”我说,“我永远不会忘记在利默里奇教堂墓地……可是,你是怎么把劳拉救出精神病院的呢?”

“贿赂,沃尔特。我不想打官司,那样太冒险,也会耽误很长时间。所以,我对护士说,这里一定有严重的误会,如果她能帮助安妮·凯瑟里克逃走,就做了一件天大的好事。之后,我给了她400英镑。计划进行得很顺利,第二天刚过中午,我和劳拉就乘上了开往坎伯兰郡的火车。”

“那么,劳拉呢?”我问,“她离开布莱克沃特庄园到伦敦后,到底发生了什么?”

玛丽安叹了口气,“噢,沃尔特,现在还不清楚。可怜的劳拉思维很乱,她的记忆不可靠。她连离开布莱克沃特的日期都记不起来。她能告诉我的就是,伯爵在车站接她,告诉她我还在伦敦,他要带劳拉马上去见我。她不记得车往哪里走了,但是很明显不是去伯爵在圣约翰伍德的家。她被带进一条小巷里的一间房子,那里人来人往,问一些她听不懂的问题。这时,伯爵告诉她我病得很严重,她听了非常害怕,几乎昏了过去。接着有人给了她一杯水,她说水的味道很怪,之后她就失去了知觉。”

“可怜的劳拉。”我低声自语着。

“她醒来以后,”玛丽安接着说,“发现自己在精神病院里,既不能离开,也无法同外界接触。别人叫她安妮·凯瑟里克,她发现自己穿着有安妮·凯瑟里克名字的衣服。别人告诉她格莱德夫人已经死了,被安葬了,她就是安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克……一天又一天,从7月27日到10月15日,他们强迫她认为自己疯了。难怪现在她思维混乱。”

“在利默里奇发生了什么?”我问道。

玛丽安把头转向一侧。“我简直不忍心想在那儿发生的事情。”她回答,“最糟的就是我带劳拉走进费尔利先生的房间后,他紧盯着劳拉的脸说:‘我侄女已经埋在利默里奇教堂墓地了。我不认识这个女人。赶快带她出去,不然我要用法律来保护自己了。’仆人们也对劳拉的身份很怀疑,因为她变化太大了,她的经历也让她思绪异常混乱。也许我们逗留的时间长一些,大家会被说服,但是我不想冒这个险,因为精神病院的人随时都会来找我们,所以我决定马上回伦敦躲起来。当我们经过教堂的时候,劳拉坚持要最后再看一眼她母亲的坟墓。后来……嗯,那一刻改变了我们三个人的生活。”

“我想是上帝在引导着劳拉的脚步。”我说。

我清楚地记得那天——可怜的劳拉将头依偎在我的肩头,充满了纯洁与信任。她说:“他们想叫我忘掉一切,沃尔特,但我还记得玛丽安,我还记得。”

*  *  *

针对劳拉的阴谋现在已经清楚了。安妮·凯瑟里克被当作格莱德夫人带进了福斯科伯爵的家里,格莱德夫人在精神病院里取代了那个已经死了的女人的位置。还有一点也很明显,福斯科伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士是不会放过我们三个的。他们两人从这个阴谋中得到30,000英镑。他们会尽一切可能不让他们的罪行败露,也会极力追寻他们所陷害的人,并把她同她的朋友们——玛丽安和我——分开。这就是为什么我选择伦敦一处既贫穷又拥挤的地方住下来,因为在一个人来人往的地方比较容易躲藏。

我们的生活很快形成了一个较为固定的模式——工作,留意我们的敌人,照顾劳拉。我们细心地照顾她,保护她,帮助她慢慢地恢复正常的思维和自信心。

与此同时,玛丽安和我开始了紧张的调查。我们仔细研究克尔先生记录的证词——分别来自医生以及伯爵家的仆人和厨师。我弄到了一份格莱德夫人的死亡证明。玛丽安给米切尔森太太写信,米切尔森太太回信说记不清劳拉离开布莱克沃特庄园的确切日期了,也记不清福斯科夫人来信通知他们劳拉死讯的具体时间了,那封信没有注明日期。

我还安排与克尔先生见面,请求他的帮助。听我把前因后果一一讲完后,克尔先生摇了摇头。

“作为律师,哈特里特先生,我认为你不会赢得这场官司。当然我同意,你和哈尔库姆小姐可以证明格莱德夫人还活着,但是你没有证据。如果你能证明死亡证明上的时间比格莱德夫人去伦敦的时间,那你可能会赢这场官司。”

我要离开的时候,他交给我一封信,是要他转给玛丽安的。同时,他在回答我的提问时透露,珀西瓦尔爵士已经回到伦敦了。

在外面的街道上,我很快注意到有两个人在跟踪我。我这才意识到伯爵的人肯定一直在监视克尔先生的办公室,以防玛丽安和我会到那儿去。我绕远路回家,设法甩掉了跟踪我的人,但是这件事提醒我今后要更加小心。

我把两个人跟踪我的事告诉了玛丽安,她非常担心。我把那封信交给她,她马上就认出了写信人的笔迹。

“是福斯科伯爵写的。”


亲爱的、尊敬的女士,请不要害怕!继续同你温柔的伙伴藏好,你们就不会有事。不要试图做任何事情,不要给任何人带来威胁。我请求你们,不要强迫我采取行动。如果哈特里特先生回英国来,不要同他接触。假如他找我的麻烦,他就死定了。福斯科。


“沃尔特!”玛丽安眼里闪着愤怒的光,“如果伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士落到你的手里,而你又必须放过他们中的一个的话,一定不要放过伯爵。”

“我要留着这封信,让它到时候提醒我应该怎么做,”我说,“明天我要去一趟布莱克沃特,查一查劳拉去伦敦的日期。这是他们阴谋中的一个漏洞。”

“你是说劳拉可能是在死亡证明上的日期之后才去伦敦的?”

“没错。我想她是7月26日动身的。精神病院的院长说她是27日被送进去的。我怀疑他们是否能让劳拉昏迷超过一晚上的时间。米切尔森太太说,珀西瓦尔爵士是和劳拉同一天离开的。我要问村里的每一个人,是不是还记得珀西瓦尔爵士什么时候离开的。”

“如果这样不行呢?”

“如果不行的话,玛丽安,我就逼珀西瓦尔爵士认罪。我们用他的秘密对付他,安妮·凯瑟里克说如果他的秘密让人知道了,那他就完了。我想查出他的秘密来。那个白衣女人虽说已经死了,但是还同我们在一起,她会为我们引路的!”

11
The investigation

The story of my first enquiries in Hampshire is soon told. Not a single person in the village of Blackwater could remember exactly when Sir Percival Glyde had left. Even the gardener at the house could only say it was some time in the last ten days of July.

'So, on to the next plan,' I said to Marian back in London, 'which is to pursue the secret. I need to talk to Anne Catherick's mother, but first I must find out something about her from Mrs Clements, Anne's friend. But how do I find Mrs Clements?'

Marian had the answer to that. 'You remember the farm she and Anne stayed at near Limmeridge? We'll write to them — they might know Mrs Clements' address.'

We were lucky. The farmer's wife did know the address, and wrote back by return to tell us. It was in London, not far from our rooms, and the next morning I was knocking at the door.

Mrs Clements was anxious to know if I had brought her any news of Anne, and very sad to learn that I had not. However, she was willing to tell me everything she knew.

'After leaving Limmeridge, sir,' she said, 'Anne and I went to live in the northeast of England, and that's when Anne started to suffer from heart disease. She wasn't at all well, but she insisted on travelling to Hampshire, because she wanted to speak to Lady Glyde. So we went there and stayed in a village near Blackwater — not too close as Anne was so frightened of Sir Percival.

'Each time Anne went to the lake to try to speak to Lady Glyde, I followed her at a distance. But the long walks made her so exhausted that she became ill again, so finally I went to the lake in her place to meet Lady Glyde. She didn't come that day, but a very fat man came instead with a message from her. The message was that we should return to London immediately, as Sir Percival would certainly find us if we stayed longer. Lady Glyde was going to London herself very soon and if we sent her our address, she would contact us.'

'But she didn't, did she?' I said, thinking how cleverly Count Fosco had lied to this kind woman.

'No, sir. I found lodgings and sent the address to Lady Glyde, but after two weeks we'd still heard nothing. Then one day a lady called in a cab. She said she came from Lady Glyde, who was staying at a hotel and wanted to arrange an interview with Anne. I agreed to go with this lady to make the arrangement, leaving Anne alone in our lodgings. But it was a wicked plot, sir. On the way the lady stopped the cab, saying she just had to collect something from a shop and would I wait for a few minutes. She never came back, sir. I waited for some time, and then I hurried home — and found Anne gone. Just disappeared.'

I asked Mrs Clements to describe this 'lady', and it seemed clear from her description that it was Madame Fosco. So I now knew how the Count had got Anne Catherick to London and separated her from Mrs Clements.

'I never found out what happened to Anne,' Mrs Clements said sadly. 'I made enquiries. I even wrote to her mother, but she didn't know anything. I miss poor Anne so much. She was like a daughter to me, you see, sir.'

'And I'm sure you were a kind mother to her,' I said. 'A better mother than her own mother.'

'That wasn't difficult,' said Mrs Clements. 'Mrs Catherick is a hard woman. She seemed to hate the child, and was only too pleased when I offered to bring her up. Then one day she took Anne to Limmeridge to stay with a sister, and after that she kept Anne from me. I didn't see Anne again till she escaped from the asylum — with your help, sir. And then she was always talking about a secret her mother had which could ruin Sir Percival. But you know, sir, I don't think Anne really knew what this secret was. If she had known, I'm sure she would have told me.'

I had wondered about that myself, and now I tried to turn the conversation on to Mrs Catherick.

'Did you know Mrs Catherick before Anne was born?'

'Yes, for about four months. We were neighbours in Welmingham. Mr and Mrs Catherick had just got married, and Mr Catherick had a job as clerk at Welmingham church. Before that, Mrs Catherick had been a servant at a large house. She was a selfish, heartless woman, and treated her poor husband very badly. Before long, there was a lot of talk about her and a young gentleman, who was staying at a hotel nearby. And Mr Catherick told my husband that he'd found expensive presents, gold rings and suchlike, hidden in his wife's drawer.'

'And who was this gentleman?' I asked.

'You know him, sir. And so did my poor dear Anne.'

'Sir Percival Glyde?' My heart began to beat faster. Was I getting close to the secret?

'That's right. His father had recently died abroad, and Sir Percival had just arrived in the neighbourhood. People thought, you see, that maybe Mrs Catherick had known Sir Percival before, and had married Mr Catherick just to save her reputation, because of, well, you know... Anyway, one night Mr Catherick found his wife whispering with Sir Percival outside the vestry of the church. They had a fight, but Sir Percival beat him and Mr Catherick left the village, never to return again. And in spite of all the talk in the village, Mrs Catherick stayed. She said she was innocent and that no one would drive her away. But most people thought that the money she lived on came from Sir Percival.'

The secret was here somewhere. But where? That Sir Percival was Anne's father was hardly a secret since everyone already thought that. No, there was another mystery somewhere.

'And what did you think, Mrs Clements?'

'Well, sir, if you worked out time and place, it was obvious that Mr Catherick wasn't Anne's father. But Anne wasn't at all like Sir Percival; and nor was she like her mother.'

I wondered about the house where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Perhaps I would make some enquiries later.

'You've been very kind, Mrs Clements,' I said, 'answering all my questions. One last request. Will you tell me Mrs Catherick's address? I have to find out this secret, and only she can tell me.'

Mrs Clements gave me the address, but shook her head. 'Take care, sir. She's an awful woman. You don't know her as I do.'

*  *  *

Back at our rooms I announced my intention to Marian of going to Welmingham. She was very uneasy about the plan.

'Are you sure it's wise, Walter? Sir Percival is a violent man.'

'I'm more afraid for you and Laura,' I said, 'left alone in London, with the Count as your enemy.'

We arranged to write to each other every day; and if no letter came from her, I would take the first train back to London.

*  *  *

Three days later I was standing in Mrs Catherick's sitting room, face to face with a grey-haired woman, dressed in black silk. Her dark eyes looked straight at me with a hard, cold stare.

'You say you have come to speak to me about my daughter,' she said. 'Please say what you have to say.'

Her voice was as hard as the expression in her eyes. She pointed to a chair, and looked at me carefully as I sat down.

'You know,' I said, 'that your daughter is lost?'

'I know that perfectly well.'

'Don't you worry that she might not be just lost, but that she might have met with her death?'

'Yes. Have you come to tell me that she is dead?'

'I have.'

'Why?'

She asked that extraordinary question without the slightest change in her voice, face, or manner. I might have been talking about the death of a cat in the street.

'I thought Anne's mother might be interested in knowing if she was alive or dead.'

'Just so,' she said. 'But what is your interest in her, or in me? Have you no other reason for coming here?'

'Yes, I do,' I said. 'Your daughter's death has caused someone I love to be harmed — by a man called Sir Percival Glyde.'

She did not react at all at the mention of his name.

'I want to make him confess to his crime. You know certain things about him from the time when your husband was the church clerk. I want you to tell me about them.'

At last I saw the anger burning in her eyes.

'What do you know about those events?'

'Everything that Mrs Clements could tell me.'

'Mrs Clements is a foolish woman.' She bit back her anger, and her lips curled in an unpleasant little smile. 'Ah, I begin to understand. You want your revenge on Sir Percival Glyde, and you want my help. That's why you've come here. Well, you don't know me. I've spent years getting back my reputation in this village. Now everyone respects me. I won't help you.'

'If you're afraid of Sir Percival, that's quite understandable,' I said. 'He's a powerful man, and comes from a great family —'

To my amazement, she suddenly burst out laughing.

'From a great family! Yes, indeed! Especially from his mother's side,' she said with disgust.

Whatever did she mean by that, I wondered?

'The secret between you and Sir Percival was not guilty love,' I insisted. 'It was something else that brought you and him to those stolen meetings outside the vestry of the church.'

As I said the words 'vestry of the church', I saw a wave of terror pass across her face.

'Go!' she said. 'And never come back. Unless' — and she gave a slow, cruel smile — 'unless you bring news of his death.'

*  *  *

It was now late, and I made my way to the nearest hotel. There was much to think about. Why should mention of the church vestry cause terror? Why the disgust at Sir Percival's family, especially his mother? Was there something unusual about his parents' marriage? Perhaps the local marriage register was kept in the vestry of Welmingham church...

The next day I went to the church. I had been aware of being followed the previous evening, and now I caught sight of the same two men I had seen outside Mr Kyrle's office in London. It seemed that Sir Percival had expected me to visit Mrs Catherick, and was now expecting me to visit Welmingham church — proof, surely, that my investigation was going in the right direction.

I found the church clerk, who fetched his keys and took me to the vestry. It could only be entered from the outside of the church, and the clerk had great difficulty opening the lock, which was very old. Once inside, I asked to see the marriage register. It was kept in a cupboard which could easily be forced open.

'Is that a safe enough place to keep the register?' I said.

'Safe enough,' the clerk said. 'A copy is kept by a lawyer in the next village — Mr Wansborough's office in Knowlesbury.'

I worked backwards in the register from Sir Percival's year of birth and there, under September of the previous year, squashed into a small space at the bottom of the page, was the record of the marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster of Knowlesbury. Just the usual information. Nothing apparently peculiar about Sir Percival's mother. The secret seemed further away than ever.

But on to Knowlesbury, and Mr Wansborough's office — a five-mile walk, but possible to get there and back by the end of the day. It was worth checking the copy of the register, and perhaps the lawyer would know something that might be useful.


pursue v. continue to investigate 继续调查

lodgings n. rooms rented for lodging in 租用的房子

bring up raise 抚养

heartless adj. unfeeling, pitiless 无情的

vestry n. a room or building attached to a church for keeping vestments in 教堂的法衣室

react v. undergo a change or show behaviour due to some influence 反应

bite back restrain 克制

burst out suddenly begin 突然做……

disgust n. strong aversion 不屑

make one's way to go to 到……去

catch sight of see, find 看到

11.调查

下面是我在汉普郡初步调查的情况。布莱克沃特村没有一个人记得珀西瓦尔爵士离开的确切时间。园丁也仅仅记得大概是7月下旬。

“那么,开始下一步行动吧,”回到伦敦我对玛丽安说,“查出那个秘密来。我需要找到安妮·凯瑟里克的母亲,但我必须首先找到安妮的朋友克莱门茨太太,从她那里了解一些情况。可怎么才能找到克莱门茨太太?”

玛丽安想出了办法:“还记得克莱门茨太太和安妮在利默里奇附近住过的农场吗?我们给他们写信,也许他们知道克莱门茨太太的地址。”

我们很幸运,农场主的妻子真的知道地址,她回信告诉了我们。她就住在伦敦,离我们住的地方不远。第二天上午,我就找到了那个地方,敲响了房门。

克莱门茨太太急切地想知道我是否带来了安妮的消息,当我告诉她没有的时候,她非常难过。不过,她愿意把她知道的一切都告诉我。

“离开利默里奇以后,先生,”她对我说,“安妮和我去了英国东北部,这个时候安妮得了心脏病。她身体很不好,但她坚持到汉普郡去见格莱德夫人。所以我们就去了那儿,住在布莱克沃特附近的一个村子里——那地方离布莱克沃特不是很近,因为安妮非常害怕珀西瓦尔爵士。

“每一次安妮到湖边去见格莱德夫人,我都在远处跟着她。但是走那么远的路让她非常疲劳,结果她又病了。最后我代替她到湖边去见格莱德夫人。那天格莱德夫人没有来,来的是一个很胖的男人,他捎来了格莱德夫人的口信,让我们赶快回伦敦,因为如果在这里呆久了,珀西瓦尔爵士肯定会发现我们。格莱德夫人自己很快也会到伦敦去,如果我们把地址给她,她会跟我们联系。”

“但是她没跟你们联系,对吗?”我问,心想伯爵对这个善良的女人说的谎真是高明啊。

“没错,先生。我找到了住处,把地址寄给了格莱德夫人,可是两个星期过去了,我们没收到任何回音。后来,有一天一位夫人乘马车到这里来。她说她从格莱德夫人那儿来,格莱德夫人住在一家旅店,想安排同安妮见面。我答应同那位夫人去安排见面的事,把安妮一个人留在住处。可这是个恶毒的阴谋,先生。走到半路,那位夫人说要去商店取点儿东西,让我等几分钟。她去了就再没回来,先生。我等了好一阵子,然后赶忙回家——回来后却发现安妮不见了。就这么消失了。”

我让克莱门茨太太描述一下那位“夫人”的样子,根据她的描述,那人很显然是福斯科夫人。现在我明白伯爵是怎么把安妮·凯瑟里克弄到伦敦,又怎么把她和克莱门茨太太分开的了。

“我不知道安妮到底出了什么事,”克莱门茨太太伤心地说,“我调查过,甚至给她母亲写过信,但是她什么也不知道。我现在非常想念可怜的安妮。你知道,她就像我的女儿一样,先生。”

“我相信你是她的好母亲,”我说,“比她的亲生母亲还要亲。”

“那倒没什么难的,”克莱门茨太太说,“凯瑟里克太太是一个铁石心肠的女人。她好像仇视这个孩子,我提出抚养这孩子时,她非常高兴。后来有一天她把安妮带到利默里奇同她的妹妹住在一起。再后来,她就不让我见安妮了。安妮从精神病院逃出来之前,我就再没见到过她。她逃出来还是你帮的忙呢,先生。从那以后,她—直说她母亲知道一个秘密,那秘密会毁了珀西瓦尔爵士。但是,先生,我觉得安妮并不真的知道那个秘密。如果她真的知道,我相信她早就告诉我了。”

我自己也想过这个问题。但是,现在我努力把话题转向凯瑟里克太太。

“安妮出生前,你就认识凯瑟里克太太吗?”

“认识,大概有四个月的时间。我们在韦明翰是邻居。当时凯瑟里克夫妇刚刚结婚,凯瑟里克先生在韦明翰教堂当职员。结婚前,凯瑟里克太太在一个大户人家当仆人。她是一个自私、狠心的女人,对她可怜的丈夫非常不好。不久,关于她和住在附近旅店的一个年轻人有了很多风言风语。凯瑟里克先生对我丈夫说,他发现他妻子的抽屉里藏着许多贵重礼物,金戒指什么的。”

“那个年轻人是谁?”我问。

“你认识他,先生。我可怜的安妮也认识他。”

“珀西瓦尔爵士?”我的心跳开始加速。我是不是接近那个秘密了?

“就是他。他父亲那时在国外去世,珀西瓦尔爵士刚刚到这里来。大家都说很可能凯瑟里克太太早就认识珀西瓦尔爵士,她和凯瑟里克先生结婚就是想挽救自己的名声,因为,嗯,你知道……不管怎样,一天晚上,凯瑟里克先生看到他妻子和珀西瓦尔爵士在教堂的法衣室外窃窃私语。他们打了起来。珀西瓦尔爵士打了他。之后,凯瑟里克先生就离开了那个村子,再也没回来。尽管村子里流言满天飞,凯瑟里克太太还是一直住在那里。”她说自己是清白的,谁也赶不走她。不过大多数人都认为她是靠珀西瓦尔爵士的钱维持生活的。”

秘密就在这里。可是到底是什么呢?珀西瓦尔爵士是安妮的父亲,这已经不是什么秘密了,大家早就这么想了。不对,这里一定还有隐情。

“那你怎么看,克莱门茨太太?”

“嗯,如果从时间和地点来看,很明显凯瑟里克先生不是安妮的父亲。但是,安妮一点儿也不像珀西瓦尔爵士,也不像她母亲。”

我想到凯瑟里克太太当仆人的那家,也许什么时候我可以到那儿调查一下。

“真是太谢谢了,克莱门茨太太,”我说,“你回答了我那么多问题。最后我还有个请求,你能告诉我凯瑟里克太太的地址吗?我必须查清楚这个秘密,只有她可以告诉我。”

克莱门茨太太把地址给了我,但是摇了摇头,“你要小心,先生。她是一个很可怕的女人,你没有我了解她。”

*  *  *

回到住处,我把要去韦明翰的想法告诉了玛丽安,她非常担优。

“你觉得这样好吗,沃尔特?珀西瓦尔爵士是个心狠手辣的人。”

“我更担心的是你和劳拉,”我说,“就你们两个留在伦敦,还要对付伯爵。”

我们商量好每天都互相写信,如果没有收到玛丽安的来信,我就搭乘最早的一班火车回伦敦来。

*  *  *

三天后,我已经站在凯瑟里克太太的客厅里了。我面前是一个头发灰白的女人,穿着黑色绸衣。她的一双黑眼睛冷冷地盯着我。

“你说你来跟我谈我女儿的事,”她开口说,“有什么话就请讲吧。”

她的声音像她的眼神一样冷。她指了指一把椅子,我坐下以后,她开始仔细地打量我。

“你知道,”我说,“你女儿失踪了吗?”

“我非常清楚。”

“难道你不担心她可能不光是失踪了,有可能她已经死了?”

“我想过。那你是来告诉我,她已经死了?”

“是的。”

“为什么?”

提出这样荒谬的问题,她的声音、表情和举止居然没有任何变化,就好像我刚才谈的是街上死了一只猫。

“我原以为安妮的母亲会关心她的生死。”

“就为了这个啊,”她说,“但是你为什么对她或我感兴趣呢?你到这里来没有其他原因?”

“有,”我回答,“你女儿的死使我所爱的人受到了伤害——是一个叫珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士的人干的。”

我提到了珀西瓦尔的名字,她一点儿反应都没有。

“我要让他承认他所犯下的罪行,你丈夫在教堂当职员的时候,你就知道了他的一些事,我希望你把所知道的告诉我。”

我终于在她眼里看到了愤怒的目光。

“你是怎么知道这些事的?”

“克莱门茨太太把她知道的都告诉我了。”

“克莱门茨太太是个愚蠢的女人。”她压下怒火,双唇勾起一丝恶意的微笑。“呵,我开始懂了。要向珀西瓦尔爵士报仇,需要帮忙。这就是你来这里的原因。你不了解我。我在这个村子住了这么多年,才挽回我的名誉。现在大家都很尊敬我,我不会帮你的。”

“如果你害怕珀西瓦尔爵士,那是可以理解的,”我说,“他是个有权势的人,出身名门——”

令我吃惊的是,她突然大笑起来。

“出身名门!是,没错!尤其是他母亲那一边。”她不屑地说。

她这话是什么意思?我不明白。

“你和他之间的秘密不是什么婚外情,”我接着说,“是别的事情使得你们在教堂的法衣室外秘密见面。”

在提到“教堂的法衣室”时,我注意到她的脸上掠过一阵恐惧。

“滚出去!”她大声喊着,“再也不要回来。除非”——她脸上慢慢露出残忍的笑意——“除非你来告诉我他死了。”

*  *  *

天色已晚,我朝最近的旅店走去。有许多问题需要思考。为什么提到教堂的法衣室她就害怕了?为什么她瞧不起珀西瓦尔爵士的家庭,特别是他的母亲?难道他父母的婚姻有什么特别的地方?也许当地的婚姻登记记录就存放在韦明翰教堂的法衣室……

第二天我去了教堂。我已经注意到前一天晚上有人跟踪我,这会儿我又看到在伦敦克尔先生办公室外见到的那两个人在跟着我。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士已经料到我要来见凯瑟里克太太,现在又料到我来韦明翰教堂——这些恰好证明我的调查方向是正确的。

我找到了教堂职员,他找来钥匙,带我来到教堂的法衣室。法衣室只能从教堂外面进去,职员费了好大劲儿才打开那把旧锁。进去以后,我说要看看婚姻登记记录。那些记录放在一个柜子里,柜子的门很容易被撬开。

“婚姻登记记录放在这里安全吗?”我问。

“很安全,”职员回答,“另一个副本存放在邻村的律师那里,就是万斯伯勒先生的办公室,在诺雷斯伯里。”

我从珀西瓦尔爵士出生那年的记录开始往前面查,在前一年的9月,有一页在靠下的角落里记着费利克斯·格莱德爵士和诺雷斯伯里的塞西莉亚结婚。只是非常一般的记录,看不出珀西瓦尔爵士的母亲有什么特殊的地方。秘密好像比以前离我更远了。

接下来,我奔赴诺雷斯伯里万斯伯勒先生的办公室——大约有5英里的路程,但是在天黑前赶回来还是可能的。很有必要查看一下记录的副本,也许律师会知道一些有用的信息。

12
The secret

Sir Percival's spies attacked me on the road to Knowlesbury. One of them came up beside me, and bumped into me with his shoulder. I pushed him away, hard, and he immediately shouted for help. The other man ran up and the two of them held me between them. The first man accused me of attacking him, and they said they would take me to the police station in the town.

What could I do? I couldn't fight both of them and hope to get away, so I had to go with them.

At the police station the first man accused me of a violent attack, and the second man said he was a witness. I was locked up until the next magistrate's court, which was three days away. I could be released on bail, I was told, but how could I, a total stranger in the town, find a responsible person willing to pay money for my temporary freedom? The whole plan was now clear — to get me out of the way for three days, while Sir Percival did whatever was necessary to prevent his secret being discovered.

At first I was too angry to think clearly. Then I remembered Mr Dawson, the doctor. I had been to his house on my previous visit to Blackwater, so I knew his address. I wrote him a letter, explaining what had happened and begging for his help, and then asked for a messenger to deliver it. Two hours later the good doctor appeared, paid the required money and I was set free.

There was no time to lose. The news of my being free would doubtless reach Sir Percival within hours. I hurried to the lawyer's office, where I asked if I could see the copy of the Welmingham marriage register. Mr Wansborough was a pleasant man and agreed to show me the copy. In fact, he was quite amused. No one had asked to see it since his father (now dead) had locked it away in the office more than twenty years before.

As I opened the register, my hands trembled. I turned the pages to the year and month. I found the names I remembered just before, and just after, the marriage of Sir Percival's parents. And between these entries, at the bottom of the page...?

Nothing! The marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster was not there! I looked again, to be sure. No, nothing. Not a doubt about it. Sir Percival must have seen the space in the Welmingham register and written in the marriage himself.

I had never once suspected this. He was not Sir Percival Glyde at all! His parents had not been married, so he had no right to the inheritance of Blackwater Park, no right to the rank of Baronet, no right even to the name of Glyde! This was his secret — and it was now mine to use against him!

The copy of the register would be safe enough in the lawyer's office, but I decided to go back to Welmingham and make a copy of the false record from the church register. It was dark now and I ran all the way to the church clerk's house. I knocked on his door, but when he appeared, he looked suspicious and confused.

'Where are the keys?' he asked. 'Have you taken them?'

'What keys do you mean?' I said. 'I've just this minute arrived from Knowlesbury.'

'The keys of the vestry,' he said. 'The keys are gone! Someone's broken in and taken the keys.'

'Get a light,' I said, 'and let's go to the vestry. Quick!'

We ran to the church. On the path we passed a man who looked at us with frightened eyes. He seemed to be a servant of some kind. We did not stop to question him, but ran on.

As we came in sight of the vestry, I saw a high window brilliantly lit from within. There was a strange smell on the night air, a sound of cracking wood, and the light grew brighter and brighter. I ran to the door and put my hand on it. The vestry was on fire!

I heard the key working violently in the lock — I heard a man's voice behind the door, raised in terror, screaming for help.

'Oh, my God!' said the servant, who had followed us, 'it's Sir Percival!'

'God help him!' said the clerk. 'He's damaged the lock.'

*  *  *

At that moment I forget the man's crimes and see only the horror of his situation. Several people are now running towards the church and I call to them to help me break down the door. We look desperately for something to use, and at last someone finds a long heavy piece of wood.

By now the flames are shooting up out of the window, and the screams have stopped. We get the wood into position and run at the door with it. Again, and again! At last the door crashes down, but a wave of heat hits our faces and drives us back — and in the room we see nothing but a sheet of living fire.

*  *  *

The church itself was saved as the fire engine arrived soon afterwards and managed to put out the fire before it spread. They carried out the body of Sir Percival Glyde and laid it on the wet ground. I looked down on his dead face and this was how, for the first and last time, I saw him.

He must have heard that I was free and on my way back to Welmingham, so he hurried to the church, stealing the keys and locking himself in to prevent anyone coming in and finding him. All he could do was tear the page out of the register and destroy it. If the false record no longer existed, I could produce no evidence to threaten him with. He must have dropped his lamp by accident, which started the fire. Then in his urgency to get out, the lock had become damaged and the key unmoveable.

I could not leave the town. There would be a legal enquiry into the accident the next day, which I had to attend, and in any case I had to report back to the police station in Knowlesbury. I returned to the hotel and wrote to Marian, telling her everything that had happened and warning her to keep the news from Laura for the moment. With Sir Percival's death, my hopes of establishing Laura's identity had also died, and I could see no way forward at present.

The next day an envelope with my name on was delivered to the hotel. The letter inside was neither dated nor signed, but before I had read the first sentence, I knew who had written it — Mrs Catherick.


Sir — I thought you were my enemy. Now that he is dead, because of you, I consider you my friend. To thank you for what you have done, I will now tell you the things you wanted to know about my private life.

Twenty-three years ago I was a beautiful young woman living in Welmingham, married to a fool of a husband. I also knew a gentleman — I shall not call him by his name. Why should I? It was not his own. I was born with expensive tastes. This man gave me expensive presents. Naturally he wanted something in return — all men do. And what did he want? Just a little thing. The key to the church vestry, when my husband's back was turned. I liked my presents, so I got him the key. I watched him in the vestry without his knowing, and saw what he was doing. I did not know then how serious a crime it was. I said I would not tell anyone about the marriage he had added to the register if he told me about his private life. He agreed — why, you will see in a moment.

He said that he only found out that his parents were not married after his mother's death. His father confessed to it and promised to do what he could for his son. But he died having done nothing. The son came to England and took possession of the property. There was no one to say he could not. In fact, the right person to claim the property was a distant relation away at sea. However, to borrow money on the property, he needed a certificate of his parents' marriage. This was a problem — a problem which brought him to Welmingham.

As his parents had mostly lived abroad and had had no social life in England, who was to say (the priest being dead) that a private marriage had not taken place at Welmingham church? His plan was to tear out a page from the marriage register in the year before his birth and destroy it. Then he would tell his lawyers in London to get the necessary certificate, innocently referring them to the date on the page that was gone. At least no one could say that his parents were not married.

However, when he saw there was a small space at the bottom of the page in the right year, he changed his plan and took the opportunity to write in the marriage himself. It took him some time, though, to practise the handwriting and to mix the right colour of ink, so that it looked the same.

After my husband caught me talking secretly to him and after their fight together, I asked my fine gentleman to clear my name and to say there had been nothing between us. But he refused. He wanted everyone to believe something false, so that they would never suspect the truth. He then told me that the punishment for his crime, and anyone who helped him, was life in prison. He frightened me! If I spoke out, I was just as lost as he was. He then agreed to make me a yearly payment if I said nothing and stayed in Welmingham, where he could always find me and where there was no danger of my making friends and talking. This was hard, but I accepted.

Many years later, when my daughter was with me at home, I received a letter from him which made me very angry. I lost control of myself and said, in her presence, that 'I could destroy him if I let out his secret'. Then one day he came to our house and called her a fool. Immediately she shouted, 'Ask for my pardon, now, or I'll let out your secret and destroy your life. 'My own words! He went white. Then he swore at us. It ended, as you know, by his shutting her up in an asylum. I tried to tell him she knew nothing. But he did not believe me. My daughter knew that she had frightened him and that he was responsible for shutting her up because he believed she knew his secret. That's why she hated him. But she never to her dying day knew what his secret actually was.

I will end by saying that you insult me if you think my husband was not my daughter's father. Please do not ask further questions about that. To protect myself, I mention no names in this letter, nor do I sign it.


magistrate n. an official conducting a court for minor cases 法官

bail n. money left with a court of law to prove that a prisoner will return when their trial starts 保释金

entry n. an item 条目

brilliantly adv. very brightly 非常亮

produce v. bring forward for consideration or inspection 拿出

12.秘密

在去往诺雷斯伯里的路上,珀西瓦尔爵士的人向我发起了攻击。其中一个走到我旁边,用肩膀撞我。我用力把他推开,他马上大喊起来。另一个人跑过来,他们两个把我夹在了中间。第一个人指责我打他,他们说要把我带到镇上的警察局去。

我能怎么办呢?我没办法打倒他们两个再逃走,现在只得跟他们走了。

到了警察局,第一个人说我打他,另一个人说他是证人。我被关了起来,等着三天后法官开庭审理。他们告诉我可以保释,可是我在这里一个人也不认识,怎么可能找到一个愿意负责的人出钱让我获得暂时的自由呢?他们的整个计划很清楚——让我消失三天,珀西瓦尔爵士就利用这段时间尽一切可能保证他的秘密不被发现。

刚开始,我非常气愤,头脑中一片混乱。后来我想起了道森先生,那位医生。上一次我去布莱克沃特的时候到过他家,所以我知道他的地址。我给他写了封信,告诉他出了什么事,请求他来帮我,然后找了一个送信的帮我把信送走。两个小时后,好心的医生来了,为我交了保释金,我自由了。

必须抓紧时间,因为我被释放的消息肯定几个小时之内就会传到珀西瓦尔爵士那里。我赶到律师的办公室,请求看一下韦明翰的结婚登记记录。万斯伯勒先生是个和气的人,他同意让我看副本。其实,应该说他很高兴,因为自从他父亲(现在已经去世了)20多年前把文件锁在办公室后,从未有人要求查看过。

我翻开记录副本的时候双手在颤抖。我找到了珀西瓦尔爵士父母结婚的年份和月份,以及在他们之前和之后结婚的男女方姓名记录。但是,在这些条目之间,在那一页的底下……?

什么也没有!费利克斯·格莱德爵士和塞西莉亚·埃尔斯特的婚姻根本就没有记录!为了保险起见,我又看了一遍。没有,什么也没有,毫无疑问。珀西瓦尔爵士可能在韦明翰的记录中看到了那个空白,然后自己填上了那条记录。

我从未怀疑到这一点。他根本就不是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士,他的父母没有结婚,他根本没有权利继承布莱克沃特庄园和爵位,甚至根本无权姓格莱德!这就是他的秘密——现在我要利用这个秘密来对付他!

婚姻登记的副本放在律师的办公室很安全,我决定返回韦明翰,复制一份教堂的假记录。天已经黑了,我一路跑到教堂职员的住处。我敲了门,职员出来的时候,脸上布满了疑虑。

“钥匙在哪儿?”他问我,“你把钥匙拿走了吗?”

“什么钥匙?”我说,“我刚从诺雷斯伯里过来。”

“法衣室的钥匙,”他说,“钥匙不见了!有人进来偷走了钥匙。”

“拿上灯,”我说,“我们去法衣室,快!”

我们向教堂跑去。路上碰见一个人,似乎是个仆人,他惊慌地看了看我们。我们没有停下来问他任何问题,而是继续向前跑。

当我们看到法衣室的时候,我发现从一个高处的窗户里发出很亮的光,夜晚的空气中有一股奇怪的味道,可以听到木头劈啪作响的声音,那光变得越来越亮。我跑到法衣室的门口,用手摸了摸门。法衣室起火了!

我听到钥匙在锁里使劲转动的声音——我听到门后有人害怕地高声喊救命。

“噢,上帝!”跟着我们跑过来的仆人说,“是珀西瓦尔爵士!”

“上帝啊,救救他!”职员说,“他把锁弄坏了。”

alt

*  *  *

这个时候,我忘记了这个人的罪恶,只想到他现在的危急处境。有几个人正朝教堂跑过来,我叫他们帮我把门弄开。我们到处找能弄开门的东西,最后有人找来一根很粗的长木头。

这时,火焰已经窜出了窗户,呼叫声已听不见了。我们抬着长木头,一次又一次朝门撞过去。最后门被撞倒了,热浪从屋里冲出来,使我们不得不往后退去——屋里除了一团火什么也看不见。

*  *  *

救火车很快赶到,没等火势蔓延就把火扑灭了,教堂本身没有受到破坏。人们把珀西瓦尔爵士的尸体抬了出来,放在潮湿的地上。我看了看他的脸,这是我第一次也是最后一次看到他。

他一定是听说我被放出来,而且正赶回韦明翰,所以急忙赶到教堂,偷了钥匙,把自己锁在屋子里,不让任何人进去发现他。他唯一能做的就是把那一页从登记簿上撕下来销毁。如果假记录没有了,我就拿不出证据来威胁他。他可能不小心把灯掉到地上,引起了大火。然后,他急着要出来,匆忙中弄坏了锁,钥匙转不动了。

我现在还不能离开这里。转天会有一个事故的法律调查,我必须参加。而且不管怎样,我还得向诺雷斯伯里的警察局报到。我回到旅店,写信给玛丽安,告诉她这里发生的事情,提醒她先不要把这个消息告诉劳拉。珀西瓦尔爵士死了,我证明劳拉身份的希望也不复存在,现在我不知下一步该怎么办。

第二天,一个写着我名字的信封被送到了旅店。里面的信既没有日期,也没有署名。但是还没看完第一句,我就知道是谁写的信了——凯瑟里克太太。

先生——我原以为你是我的敌人。现在因为你,他已经死了,我认为你是我的朋友。为感谢你的所作所为,我现在把你想知道的我的私事告诉你。

23年前,我是一个年轻漂亮的姑娘,住在韦明翰,嫁给了一位傻乎乎的丈夫。我还结识了一位绅士——我不会称呼他的名字。为什么要那样叫他?那不是他的名字。我生来就喜欢贵重的东西,这个人送给我许多贵重礼物,当然他是需要回报的——男人都是这样。这个男人要的是什么?很简单的一样东西。教堂法衣室的钥匙,当然要趁我丈夫不在的时候。我喜欢那些礼物,所以给他弄到了钥匙。我盯着他,看他在法衣室干什么,他并没发觉。当时我不知道那是多么严重的罪行。我跟他说,要是他告诉我他的私事,我不会告诉任何人他擅自增加结婚记录的事。他答应了——至于为什么,你往下看就明白了。

他说在他母亲死后,他才知道他的父母并没有结婚。他父亲承认了这件事,答应尽力为他儿子做些什么。可是他什么都没来得及做,就死去了。他的儿子来到英国继承了遗产。没人说他不能继承,实际上,真正应该继承遗产的是一个正在出海的远亲。然而,要想用那笔财产去借钱,他需要一份父母的结婚证明。这是个问题,为解决这个问题,他来到了韦明翰。

因为他父母大部分时间生活在国外,在英国没什么交际,所以谁会说(牧师已经死了)韦明翰教堂没举行过一场私下的婚礼呢?他的计划是把他出生前那一年的婚姻登记页撕下来销毁。然后,他就会告诉伦敦的律师们去取必要的证明文件,并假装不知情地把那个已经不存在的登记页上的日期告诉他们。至少谁也不会说他父母没结婚。

但是,他发现那年的登记页上靠下面有一点空白,于是改变了主意,趁机把他父母的婚姻写了进去。当然,他也颇费了些时间去模仿登记用的笔迹,还有配制合适的墨水颜色,让这条记录看起来跟其他的没有差别。

我丈夫看到我和他密谈,他们两个打了一架以后,我叫他帮我洗清名声,告诉别人我们之间什么也没发生,但是他拒绝了。他希望大家都相信并没有发生的事情,这样一来,人们就不会去想真相如何了。他还跟我说如果他的罪行败露,他以及帮过他的人都将被终生监禁。他让我害怕极了!如果我说出他的秘密,那我和他都完了。他答应每年支付我一笔钱,条件是我保持沉默,继续住在韦明翰,让他随时可以找到我,也免得我与人交朋友,然后乱讲话。虽说条件很苛刻,我还是答应了。

很多年以后,那时我女儿同我在一起,我收到他的一封信把我惹恼了。我无法控制自己,当着女儿的面说:“我把他的秘密说出去就能毁了他。”后来有一天,他来我家,管我女儿叫傻瓜,她一下子喊了起来:“赶快请求我原谅你,不然我就把你的秘密说出去,毁了你。”完全是我说过的话!他的脸一下子变白了。他向我们破口大骂。最后,你知道,他把她关进了精神病院。我试图告诉他,她什么也不知道。可是他不相信我。我女儿明白她使他害怕了,是他把她关进了精神病院,因为他认为她知道了他的秘密。这就是为什么她那么恨他。但是,她其实到死也不知道那秘密到底是什么。

最后我要说的是,如果你认为我丈夫不是我女儿的父亲,你就是污辱我。请不要多问了。为了保护我自己,信中没有提到任何名字,我也不会署名。

13
The threat

Mrs Catherick's extraordinary and shameless letter filled me with disgust. My interest in Sir Percival Glyde's crime was now at an end, but I decided to keep the letter in case it might help me find out who Anne's father really was.

Later in the morning I went to the legal enquiry into Sir Percival's death. I was only asked to say what had happened. I was not asked how I thought the keys had been taken, how the fire had been caused, or why Sir Percival had gone into the vestry. As no one could explain any of these things, the verdict at the end of the enquiry was 'death by accident'.

Afterwards, a gentleman who was also at the enquiry walked back to the hotel with me. He had heard from Sir Percival's lawyer that a distant relation abroad would now inherit Blackwater Park. This was obviously the person who should have inherited it twenty-three years before. If I made Sir Percival's crime public, it would be to no one's advantage now. If I kept the secret, the true character of the man who had cheated Laura into marrying him would remain hidden. And for her sake, I wished to keep it hidden.

I still could not leave Hampshire, as I had to report to the police station in Knowlesbury the next day. I spent another night at the hotel and in the morning went to the post office to collect the letter from Marian. As promised, we had written to each other every day, and Marian's letters had been full of cheerful news. This morning's letter was short, and terrified me.


Come back as soon as you can. We have had to move. Come to Gower's Walk, Fulham (number five). I will look out for you. Don't be alarmed about us, we are both safe and well. But come back. — Marian


What had happened? What dreadful thing had Count Fosco done while I was away? In spite of my anxiety, I had to wait. I paid my bill at the hotel and took a cab to Knowlesbury.

At the police station, as I expected, no one appeared to continue the action against me and I was allowed to go. Half an hour later I was on the train back to London.

I got to Gower's Walk in Fulham at about nine o'clock. Both Laura and Marian came to the door to let me in. Laura was much brighter and happier, full of plans for the future and for her drawing and painting. Marian's face was tired and anxious. I could see that she had spared Laura the knowledge of the terrible death in Welmingham and the true reason for moving to new lodgings. When Laura had left us and we could speak freely, I tried to give some expression to my feelings and told Marian how much I admired her for the courage and love she had shown.

She was too generous to listen to me, and turned the conversation to my worries.

'I'm so sorry for my letter — it must have alarmed you.'

'Yes, it did,' I admitted. 'Was I right in thinking that you moved because of a threat by Count Fosco?'

'Perfectly right,' she said. 'I saw him yesterday, and worse than that, Walter — I spoke to him.'

'Spoke to him? Did he come to the house?'

'He did. Yesterday, when I was passing the window, I saw him in the street. Then there was a knock on the door. I rushed out and there he was, dressed in black, with his smooth face and his deadly smile. I closed the door behind me so that Laura would not see or hear him.'

'What did he say?' I asked anxiously.

'He greeted me, then repeated the warning in his letter to me. He said he had not been able to prevent Sir Percival's violence towards you, and he had found out our address in order to protect his own interests. You were followed, Walter, on your return home after your first journey to Hampshire. He used this information only when he heard of Sir Percival's death, because he believed you would act against him next.'

'And he was right,' I said. 'What did he say about me?'

'He was very cool, very polite, and very threatening,' said Marian. 'He said, "Warn Mr Hartright! He has an intelligent and powerful man to deal with. Let him be content with what he has got. Say to him, if he attacks me, I will use all my power to destroy him. There is nothing I will not do. Dear lady, good morning." Then he just looked at me with his cold grey eyes, and walked away.

'I ran back inside, and told Laura we had to move. We needed a quieter neighbourhood with better air for the sake of her health. I said you'd wanted us to do that, and why didn't we do it now to surprise you when you got back. She liked that idea, and was quite happy to move. I found these lodgings through an old school friend. I did the right thing, didn't I, Walter?'

I answered her warmly and gratefully, as I really felt.

But the anxious look remained on her face, and I saw in her eyes her continuing fear of the Count's cleverness and energy.

'What do you think of his message, Walter? What do you plan to do next?'

'I decided weeks ago that Laura will be received in her uncle's house again,' I answered. 'And my decision remains the same. Count Fosco will answer for his crime to ME.'

Marian's eyes lit up. She said nothing, but I could see how strongly she supported this plan.

'I know the risks are great,' I said, 'but it must be done. I'm not foolish enough to try this before I'm well prepared. I can wait. Let him think his message has produced its effect. He will start to feel safe. Also, my position towards you and Laura ought to be a stronger one than it is now.'

'How can it be stronger?' she asked, surprised.

'Marian, I would like you to say to Laura, gently, that her husband is dead.'

'Oh, Walter, so soon? You have a reason for this, don't you?'

'Yes. I cannot speak to Laura yet. But one day, not too distant, I want to tell her that I love her.'

Marian looked at me for a time, then gave a sad, gentle smile. 'Yes, I understand. I think I owe it to her and to you, Walter, to tell her of her husband's death.'

The next day Laura knew that death had released her from her marriage, and her husband's name was never mentioned among us again.

*  *  *

Our life returned to its usual pattern, but I did not forget the Count. I discovered that he had rented his house in St John's Wood for another six months, so I was fairly sure he would still be in London, within my reach, when the time came to act.

We finally solved the puzzle of who Anne Catherick's father was. When I went again to see Mrs Clements and to tell her about Anne's death, she remembered where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Her employer had been a Mr Donthorne.

We wrote to Mr Donthorne, who replied with some very interesting information. Philip Fairlie, Laura's father, had been a great friend of his when they were young, and a frequent house guest. He was a handsome man and fond of female company. Mr Donthorne was fairly certain that Philip Fairlie had been staying at his house when Mrs Catherick was employed as a servant, in the year before Anne was born.

When Marian and I checked the dates; when we considered that Anne and Laura looked so alike; and when we took into account the fact that Laura looked very much like her father, we were in no doubt that here was the solution. Philip Fairlie was Anne's father, and so Anne was Laura's half-sister.

Now, at last, the woman in white, that strange sad shadow walking in the loneliness of the night, could rest in peace.

*  *  *

Four months passed. Laura grew stronger in body and in mind. She was almost her old self, and when we talked, it was as we used to talk at Limmeridge. If I touched her by accident, I felt my heart beating fast, and I saw the answering colour in her face.

In April, we went for a holiday at the seaside. While we were there I told Marian that when we returned to London, I was determined to force a confession from Count Fosco — to make him tell me the real date of Laura's journey to London.

'But if I am to challenge the Count, for Laura's safety, I think I should challenge him as her husband. Do you agree, Marian?'

'With every word,' she said. 'I parted you both once. Wait here, my brother, my best and dearest friend! Till Laura comes, and tells you what I have done now!'

She kissed my forehead and left the room. I waited by the window, staring out at the beach, seeing nothing, hardly able to breathe. The door opened, and Laura came in alone. When we parted at Limmeridge, she had come into the room slowly, in sorrow and hesitation. Now she ran to me, with the light of happiness shining in her face. She put her arms around me, and her sweet lips came to meet mine.

'My darling!' she whispered, 'May we say we love each other now? Oh, I am so happy at last!'

Ten days later we were even happier. We were married.


verdict n. a decision; a judgment 结论

spare somebody the knowledge of keeping somebody from knowing 不让某人知道……

deadly adj. horrible 可怕的

answer for be responsible 受到惩罚

fairly adv. to a noticeable degree 相当地

13.威胁

凯瑟里克太太奇怪而又不知羞耻的来信使我对她充满了鄙夷。现在,我对珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行已经没有兴趣了,但我还是决定留着这封信,也许它会帮我找出安妮的父亲究竟是谁。

上午晚些时候,我去参加珀西瓦尔爵士死亡的法律调查。他们只让我说说发生了什么,没有问我如何看待钥匙为什么会被拿走,火灾是怎么发生的,或者为什么珀西瓦尔爵士会进到法衣室去。没有人能够解释这些问题,所以调查的最终结论是“意外死亡”。

之后,一位也参加了调查的男子和我一起走回旅店。他从珀西瓦尔爵士的律师那里得知,一个国外的远亲现在要来继承布莱克沃特庄园。很明显,这就是23年前应该继承庄园的那个人。假如我把珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行公之于众,现在对谁都没有好处。假如我不把秘密说出去,这个欺骗劳拉与之结婚的人的真正人品就不会有人知道。但为了劳拉,我愿意保守这个秘密。

我还不能离开汉普郡,因为转天还要去诺雷斯伯里警察局。我在旅店又住了一晚。第二天一早,我去邮局取玛丽安的来信。我们按约定每天通信。玛丽安的来信一直都是好消息。今天早上的来信很短,但却令我害怕。


请尽快回来。我们不得不搬了家。到富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街(5号)来找我们。我也会留意等你。不必为我们担心,我们很安全。一定快回来。玛丽安


出了什么事?我不在的时候,福斯科伯爵又做了什么坏事?尽管非常担心,我还是得等。我付清了旅店的费用,叫了辆马车直奔诺雷斯伯里。

在警察局,不出我所料,没人来继续同我纠缠,我可以走了。半个小时后,我登上了返回伦敦的火车。

大约9点钟,我赶到了富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街。劳拉和玛丽安都到门口迎接我。劳拉的脸色比以前好多了,人也高兴多了,对将来和她的绘画有很多想法。玛丽安的脸上带着倦容和忧虑。看得出她没有把珀西瓦尔死在韦明翰的可怕消息和搬到新住处的真实原因告诉劳拉。劳拉走开以后,我们可以随便谈话了。我想告诉她我非常敬佩她的勇气和她对劳拉表现出的爱。

这位慷慨的姑娘没等我说完就把话题转到我的担忧上来了。

alt

“给你写那样的信,真是对不起——你一定很为我们担心吧。”

“是的,我的确很担心,”我说,“我猜你们搬家是由于福斯科伯爵的威胁,对吗?”

“一点儿不错,”她回答,“我昨天看见他了,更糟糕的是,沃尔特——我跟他说话了。”

“跟他说话了?他去你们的住处了?”

“是的。昨天,我从窗旁走过的时候,看见他在街上。过了一会儿,有人敲门。我马上跑过去开门,就是他,穿一身黑色衣服,光滑的脸上带着吓人的微笑。我关上了身后的门,这样劳拉就看不见他,也听不见他说话了。”

“他都说了什么?”我急切地问。

“他跟我打了招呼,然后再一次重复了他在信中对我的警告。他说他没能阻止珀西瓦尔爵士针对你的恶劣行为,他找到我们的住处是要保护他自己的利益。你第一次去汉普郡回来的时候就被跟踪了,沃尔特。他在听到珀西瓦尔爵士的死讯后才决定登门,因为他认为你下一个对付的目标就是他。”

“让他说对了,”我说,“他说我什么了?”

“他非常冷静而有礼,同时又非常具有威胁性,”玛丽安接着说,“他说,‘请警告哈特里特先生!他要对付的是一个有智慧、有权势的人。叫他对已经得到的东西知足吧。告诉他,如果他跟我对着干,我将不遗余力地干掉他。我会不择手段的。亲爱的小姐,再见。’然后,他用冷酷的灰眼睛看了看我,就走了。

“我赶忙跑进屋,跟劳拉说我们得搬家。为她的健康着想,我们需要一个更安静、空气更好的地方。我说你也希望我们搬家,为什么不现在就搬,等你回来给你一个惊喜呢。她喜欢这个主意,欢天喜地地同意了。我通过一个校友找到这个住处。我做得没错吧,沃尔特?”

我说她做得非常好,这是我的心里话。

但是,她脸上依然带着忧虑,从她的眼神里看得出,她还在害怕伯爵的精明和权势。

“沃尔特,你怎么看他的那些话?下一步你准备怎么做?”

“几星期前,我就决定让劳拉重新在她叔叔家得到应有的承认,”我回答,“现在我还是这样想的。我要让福斯科伯爵为他犯下的罪行付出代价。”

玛丽安的眼睛一亮,虽然没有说话,但是看得出她非常支持这个计划。

“我清楚这样做风险很大,”我说,“但这件事一定要做。我不会愚蠢到没做好准备就动手。我可以等。让他觉得他的话起了作用,认为已经平安无事了。另外,我跟你和劳拉的关系也该比现在更明确。”

“怎么个更明确法?”她吃惊地问。

“玛丽安,我希望你能心平气和地告诉劳拉,她丈夫已经死了。”

“噢,沃尔特,这么快就告诉她?你这样做是不是有什么原因?”

“是的,我现在还不能跟劳拉谈,但总有一天,不会太久,我会告诉她我爱她。”

玛丽安看了我一会儿,然后淡淡地、略带忧伤地笑了笑,“好吧,我明白。我想这是我欠你们的,沃尔特,我会把她丈夫的死讯告诉她。”

第二天,劳拉知道她丈夫死了,她也从这段婚姻中解脱了,那以后我们谁也没再提过她丈夫的名字。

*  *  *

我们的生活恢复了往常的模式,但是我没有忘记伯爵。我了解到他在圣约翰伍德的房子又续租了6个月,因此可以肯定,到了我采取行动的时候,他还会在伦敦,我还可以找到他。

我们终于弄清了安妮·凯瑟里克的父亲是谁。我又去见了克莱门茨太太,告诉她安妮已经死了。她记起凯瑟里克太太当仆人的地方。她的雇主姓多桑。

我们给多桑先生写信,他在回信中告诉我们一些非常有趣的信息。菲利普·费尔利,就是劳拉的父亲,年轻时和他是好友,也是他家里的常客。菲利普风流潇洒,喜欢女色。多桑先生非常肯定凯瑟里克太太在他家当仆人的那段时间,也就是安妮出生的前一年,菲利普·费尔利一直住在他家。

玛丽安和我算了算时间,我们想到安妮和劳拉如此地相像,想到劳拉如此地像她父亲,我们得到了非常肯定的答案。菲利普·费尔利是安妮的父亲,安妮和劳拉是同父异母的姐妹。

现在,那位白衣女人,那位在寂静深夜出现的古怪而哀伤的女人终于可以安息了。

*  *  *

四个月过去了,劳拉的身体渐渐强壮起来,头脑也慢慢清楚了。她几乎又是原来的她了。我们交谈的时候,感觉和当初在利默里奇谈话时一样。当我无意间碰到她的时候,我感到心跳在加速,而且我注意到她也脸红了。

4月,我们到海边度假。在那里,我告诉玛丽安,等回到伦敦,我一定要迫使福斯科伯爵说实话,让他说出劳拉回伦敦的真正日期。

“但是为了劳拉的安全,我想如果我挑战伯爵的话,最好以她丈夫的身份前去,你同意吗,玛丽安?”

“完全同意,”玛丽安说,“我曾让你们两个分开,你在这儿等我一下,我的好朋友!一会儿劳拉就过来,她会告诉你我这次是怎么做的,好吗?”

她吻了吻我的额头,走了出去。我在窗旁等着,眼睛望着海滩,却什么也看不到,我紧张得几乎喘不过气来。门开了,劳拉一个人走进来。我们在利默里奇分手的时候,她是慢慢地走进房间的,神情充满了痛苦和犹豫。这会儿,她跑向我,脸上闪耀着幸福的光芒。她张开手臂紧紧地拥抱我,用甜润的双唇吻着我。

“亲爱的!”她轻声说,“现在我们能对彼此说‘我爱你’了吧?啊,我终于得到幸福了!”

十天以后,我们的幸福又向前迈进了一步,我们结婚了。

14
The confession

A fortnight later, we returned to London, and I began to prepare for my battle with the Count. It was now early May and the rental agreement for his house ended in June. In my new happiness with Laura (to whom we never mentioned the Count's name), I was sometimes tempted to change my mind and to leave things as they were. But she still had dreams, terrible dreams that made her cry out in her sleep, and I knew I had to go on.

First, I tried to find out more about the Count. Marian told me that he had not been back to Italy for many years. Had he been obliged to leave Italy for political reasons, I wondered? But Marian also said that at Blackwater Park he had received official-looking letters with Italian stamps on, which would seem to contradict this idea. Perhaps he was a spy, I thought. That might explain why he had stayed in England so long after the successful completion of his plot. Who could I ask who might know something? Another Italian, perhaps — and I suddenly thought of my old friend, Professor Pesca.

Before I did that, I decided to have a look at the Count, as up to this time I had never once set eyes on him. So one morning I went to Forest Road, St John's Wood, and waited near his house. Eventually, he came out and I followed behind him as he walked towards the centre of London. Marian had prepared me for his enormous size and fashionable clothes, but not for the horrible freshness and cheerfulness and energy of the man.

Near Oxford Street he stopped to read a sign announcing an opera, and then went into the opera ticket office, which was nearby. I went over to read the sign. The opera was being performed that evening, and it seemed likely that the Count would be in the audience.

If I invite Pesca to the opera, I thought, I can point the Count out to him and find out if he knows him. So I bought two tickets myself, sent Pesca a note, and that evening called to take him with me to the opera.

The music had already started when we went in, and all the seats were filled. However, there was room to stand at the sides. I looked around and saw the Count sitting in a seat half-way down, so I placed myself exactly on a line with him, with Pesca standing at my side. When the first part finished, the audience, including the Count, rose to look about them.

When the Count was looking in our direction, I nudged Pesca with my elbow. 'You see that tall fat man? Do you know him?'

'No,' said Pesca. 'Is he famous? Why do you point him out?'

'Because I have a reason for wanting to know more about him. He's an Italian, and his name is Count Fosco. Do you know that name? Look — stand on this step so that you can see him better.'

A slim, fair-haired man, with a scar on his left cheek, was standing near us. I saw him look at Pesca, and then follow the direction of his eyes to the Count. Pesca repeated that he did not know him, and as he spoke, the Count looked our way again.

The eyes of the two Italians met.

In that second I was suddenly convinced that, while Pesca may not have known the Count, the Count certainly knew Pesca!

Not only knew him, but — more surprising still — feared him as well. The Count's face had frozen into a dreadful stillness, the cheeks as pale as death, the cold grey eyes staring in terror.

Nearby, the man with the scar also seemed to be watching with interest the effect that Pesca had had on the Count.

'How the fat man stares!' Pesca said, looking round at me. 'But I've never seen him before in my life.'

As Pesca looked away, the Count turned, moving quickly towards the back of the theatre, where the crowd was thickest. I caught Pesca's arm and, to his great surprise, hurried him with me after the Count. The slim man with the scar had apparently also decided to leave, and was already ahead of us. By the time Pesca and I reached the entrance, neither the Count nor the slim man was in sight.

'Pesca,' I said urgently, 'I must speak to you in private. May we go to your lodgings to talk?'

'What on earth is the matter?' cried Pesca.

I hurried him on without answering. The way the Count had left the theatre, his extraordinary anxiety to avoid Pesca, made me fear that he might go even further — and out of my reach.

In Pesca's lodgings, I explained everything as fast as I could, while Pesca stared at me in great confusion and amazement.

'He knows you — he's afraid of you. He left the theatre to escape you,' I said. 'There must be a reason, Pesca! Think of your own life before you came to England. You left Italy for political reasons. I don't ask what they were. But could that man's terror be connected with your past in some way?'

To my inexpressible surprise, these harmless words seemed to terrify Pesca. His face went white and he started to tremble.

'Walter!' he whispered. 'You don't know what you ask.'

I stared at him. 'Pesca, forgive me. I didn't mean to cause you pain. I spoke only because of what my wife has suffered from that man's cruel actions. You must forgive me.'

I rose to go. He stopped me before I reached the door.

'Wait,' he said. 'You saved my life once. You have a right to hear from me what you want to know, even though I could be killed for it. I only ask that, if you find the connection between my past and that man Fosco, you do not tell me.'

Then, his face still pale as the memories of the past crowded in on him, he told me the story.

'In my youth I belonged — and still belong — to a secret political society. Let's call it the Brotherhood, I can't tell you its real name. But I took too many risks and did something which put other members in danger. So I was ordered to go and live in England and to wait. I went — I have waited — I still wait. I could be called away tomorrow, or in ten years. I cannot know.

'The purpose of the Brotherhood is to fight for the rights of the people. There is a president in Italy, and presidents abroad. Each of these has his secretary. The presidents and secretaries know the members, but members don't know each other, until it's considered necessary. Every member of the Brotherhood is identified by a small round mark burnt into the skin, high up on the inside of their left arm.'

He rolled up his sleeve and showed me his own mark.

'If anyone betrays the Brotherhood,' he went on, 'he is a dead man. Another member, a distant stranger or a neighbour, will be ordered to kill him. No one can leave the society — ever.'

Pesca paused, then continued. 'In Italy I was chosen to be secretary. The members at that time were brought face to face with the president, and were also brought face to face with me. You understand me — I see it in your face. But tell me nothing, I beg you! Let me stay free of a responsibility which horrifies me.

'I do not know the man at the opera,' he said finally. 'If he knows me, he is so changed, or disguised, that I do not know him. Leave me now, Walter. I have said enough.'

'I thank you with all my heart, Pesca,' I said. 'You will never, never regret the trust you have placed in me.'

Walking home, my heart beat with excitement. Here at last, surely, was my weapon against the Count! I was convinced he was a member of the Brotherhood, had betrayed it, and believed that he had been recognized tonight. His life was now in danger. What else could explain his extreme terror at seeing Pesca?

And what would he do next? Leave London as fast as he could. If I went to his house and tried to stop him, he would not hesitate to kill me. To protect myself, I had to make his safety depend on mine. I hurried home and wrote this letter to Pesca:

The man at the opera, Fosco, is a member of your society and has betrayed it. Go instantly to his house at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. I am already dead. Use your power against him without delay.

I signed and dated the letter, and wrote on the envelope: Keep until nine o'clock tomorrow morning. If you do not hear from me before then, open the envelope and read the contents.

I then found a messenger, told him to deliver the letter and bring back a note from Professor Pesca to say he had received it. Twenty minutes later I had the note, and as I was leaving, Marian came to the door, looking anxious.

'It's tonight, isn't it?' she said. 'You're going to the Count.'

'Yes, it's the last chance, and the best.'

'Oh, Walter, not alone! Let me go with you. Don't go alone?'

'No, Marian. You must stay here and guard Laura for me. Then I will be easy in my mind when I face the Count.'

*  *  *

As I approached the Count's house, I passed the man with the scar on his cheek, whom I had noticed earlier at the opera. What was he doing here, I wondered?

I sent in my card, and I still do not know why the Count let me into his house at half past eleven at night. Was he just curious to see me? He would not have known that I was at the opera with Pesca, and I suppose he thought he had nothing to fear from me.

He was still in his evening suit, and there was a travelling case on the floor, with books, papers, and clothes all around him. My guess had been right.

'You come here on business, Mr Hartright?' he said, looking at me with curiosity. 'I cannot think what that might be.'

'You are obviously preparing for a journey,' I said. 'That is my business. I know why you are leaving London.'

'So you know why I am leaving London?' He went over to a table and opened a drawer.' Tell me the reason, if you please.'

'I can show you the reason,' I said. 'Roll up the sleeve on your left arm, and you will see it.'

His cold grey eyes stared into mine. There was a long heartbeat of silence. I was as certain as if I had seen it that he had a gun hidden in the drawer, and that my life hung by a thread.

'Wait a little,' I said. 'Before you act, I advise you to read this note.' Moving slowly and carefully, I passed him Pesca's note.

He read the lines aloud.

Your letter is received. If I don't hear from you before nine o'clock, I will open the envelope when the clock strikes.

Another man might have needed an explanation, but not the Count. His expression changed, and he closed the drawer.

'You are cleverer than I thought,' he said. 'I cannot leave before nine as I have to wait for a passport to be delivered. Your information may be true or may be false — where did you get it?'

'I refuse to tell you.'

'And that unsigned note you showed me — who wrote it?'

'A man whom you have every reason to fear.'

A pause. 'What do you want of me, Mr Hartright? Is it to do with a lady, perhaps?'

'Yes, my wife,' I answered.

He looked at me in real amazement, and I saw at once that he no longer considered me a dangerous man. He folded his arms and listened to me with a cold smile.

'You are guilty of a wicked crime,' I went on. 'But you can keep the money. All I want is a signed confession of the plot and a proof of the date my wife travelled to London.'

'Good!' he said. 'Those are your conditions; here are mine. One, Madame Fosco and I leave the house when we please and you do not try to stop us. Two, you wait here until my agent comes early tomorrow morning and you give him an order to get back your letter unopened. You then allow us half an hour to leave the house. Three, you agree to fight me at a place to be arranged later abroad. Do you accept my conditions — yes or no?'

His quick decision, his cleverness and force of character amazed me. For a second I hesitated. Should I let him escape? Yes, the evidence I needed to prove Laura's identity was far more important than revenge.

'I accept your conditions,' I said.

At once, he called for coffee and sat down to write. He wrote quickly for quite some time. Finally, he jumped up, declared that he had finished and read out his statement, which I accepted as satisfactory. He gave me the address of the company from whom he had hired the cab to collect Laura, and also gave me a letter signed by Sir Percival. It was dated 25th July, and announced the journey of Lady Glyde to London on 26th July. So there it was. On 25th July, the date of her death certificate in London, Laura was alive in Hampshire, about to make a journey the next day.

The Count then called in Madame Fosco to watch me while he slept. Early in the morning his agent arrived and I wrote a note for Pesca. An hour later, the agent returned with my unopened letter and the Count's passport.

'Remember the third condition!' the Count said as he left. 'You will hear from me, Mr Hartright.' Then he and the Countess got into the agent's cab with their bags and drove away, leaving the agent with me to make sure I did not follow.

As I watched them leave, another cab went by and I saw inside the man with the scar on his cheek. What was his business with the Count, I wondered? I had seen him too often now for it to be chance. Perhaps I had fought my own battle with the Count just in time. You cannot get a signed confession out of a dead man.

While I waited for the agreed half hour, I read the document that the Count had written for me.


Statement by Isidor Ottavio Baldassare Fosco

In the summer of 1850 I arrived in England on delicate political business and stayed with my friend, Sir Percival Glyde. We both urgently needed large amounts of money. The only person who had such money was his wife, from whom not a penny could be obtained until her death. To make matters worse, my friend had other private problems. A woman called Anne Catherick was hidden in the neighbourhood, was communicating with Lady Glyde, and knew a secret which could ruin him. And if he was ruined, what would happen to our financial interests?

The first thing to do was to find Anne Catherick, who, I was told, looked very much like Lady Glyde and who had escaped from a mad-house. I had the fantastic idea of changing the names, places and lives of Lady Glyde and Anne Catherick, the one with the other. The wonderful results of this change would be the gain of £ 30,000 and the keeping of Sir Percival's secret.

I found Anne Catherick and persuaded her and her friend to return to London. I rented a house in St John's Wood for myself, and obtained from Mr Fairlie in Limmeridge an invitation for Lady Glyde to visit. For my plan to work, it was necessary for Lady Glyde to leave Blackwater Park alone and stay a night at my house on her way to Limmeridge. This plan was made easier by Miss Halcombe's illness. I returned to Blackwater Park, and when Miss Halcombe was out of danger, I got rid of the doctor and instructed Sir Percival to get rid of the servants.

Next, we sent Mrs Michelson away for a few days, and one night Madame Fosco, Mrs Rubelle and I moved the sleeping Miss Halcombe to an unused part of the house. I left for London in the morning with my wife, leaving Sir Percival to persuade Lady Glyde that her sister had gone to Limmeridge and that she should follow her, breaking her journey in London at my house.

On 24th July, with my wife's help, I got hold of Anne Catherick, and took her to my house as Lady Glyde. However, when she saw no one she recognized, she screamed with fear and, to my horror, the shock to her weak heart caused her to collapse. By the end of the following day, she was dead. Dead on the 25th, and Lady Glyde was not due to arrive in London till the 26th!

It was too late to change the plan. I remained calm and carried on. On the 26th, leaving the false Lady Glyde dead in my house, I collected the true Lady Glyde from the railway station and took her to Mrs Rubelle's house. The two medical men I had hired (shall we say) were easily persuaded to certify the confused and frightened Lady Glyde as mentally ill. Then I gave her a drug and had Mrs Rubelle dress her in Anne Catherick's clothes. The next day, the 27th, she was delivered to the asylum, where she was received with great surprise, but without suspicion. The false Lady Glyde was buried at Limmeridge. I attended the funeral with suitable expressions of deep sympathy.

One final question remains. If Anne Catherick had not died when she did, what would I have done? I would, of course, have given her a happy release from the prison of life.


tempt v. to make someone want to have or do something 引诱

contradict v. be in conflict with 与……相矛盾

perform v. act 表演

nudge v. push gently 轻轻地碰

inexpressible adj. that can not be expressed 难以说清的

disguise v. alter the appearance so as to conceal the identity 伪装

curious adj. eager to learn; inquisitive 好奇的

aloud adv. audibly 出声地

agent n. a person who acts for another in business, politics etc. 代理人

delicate adj. tricky 微妙的

fantastic adj. wonderful 绝好的

14.认罪

两个星期之后,我们回到了伦敦。我开始准备与伯爵的较量。现在是5月初,他租房的期限到6月。享受着与劳拉新婚的幸福(我们从未跟她提起过伯爵),有时我忍不住想改变主意,让一切都过去。但是劳拉仍会做梦,可怕的噩梦,她常常在梦里惊叫起来,因此我明白必须继续原来的计划。

首先,我想尽量多了解一些伯爵的事。玛丽安告诉我,他已经很多年没有回意大利了。我想,他是不是由于政治原因被迫离开意大利的呢?但是玛丽安又说,在布莱克沃特庄园他好像收到过贴着意大利邮票的官方来信,这两者是互相矛盾的。也许他是间谍。这样可以解释为什么他在自己的阴谋得逞后,还在英国逗留那么久。有谁能告诉我答案呢?也许该再找个意大利人问问——猛然间我想到了老朋友,佩斯卡教授。

去见佩斯卡教授前,我决定先去看一下伯爵,因为到目前为止,我还从来没有见过他。于是一天早上,我去了圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特大街,在他的住处附近等他出现。最后,他终于出来了,朝伦敦市中心走去。我在后面跟着他。玛丽安跟我提过他身躯肥胖,衣着入时,但我没想到这个人那么精力旺盛,神采飞扬。

在牛津街附近,他停住脚步看一个歌剧的海报,然后走进了不远处的售票处。我过去看了一下海报,发现演出就在晚上,伯爵很可能会出现在观众当中。

我想假如邀请佩斯卡来看歌剧,就可以把伯爵指给他,看他是否认识。于是,我自己买了两张票,给佩斯卡写了封短信,晚上找他一起去看歌剧。

我们进入剧院的时候,音乐已经响起来了,剧场里座无虚席。不过剧场两边还有站的地方。我环顾四周,看到伯爵坐在前面几排的座位上,于是我也站到了那一排,佩斯卡站在我旁边。第一部分演出结束了,观众们,包括伯爵在内,都起身向周围张望。

在伯爵朝我们这个方向看的时候,我用臂肘碰了一下佩斯卡,“看见那个高大的胖子了吗?你认识他吗?”

“不认识,”佩斯卡回答,“他很有名吗?你为什么让我看他?”

“因为我需要更多地了解关于他的情况。他是意大利人,叫福斯科伯爵。你听说过这个名字吗?来,站这个台阶上,你会看得更清楚些。”

一个瘦瘦的金发男子站在我们的旁边,他的左脸上有一道疤。我注意到他看了看佩斯卡,又顺着佩斯卡的视线看了看伯爵。佩斯卡再一次对我说,他不认识那个人,就在他说话的时候,伯爵朝我们这边看过来。

这两个意大利人的目光相遇了。

那一瞬间,我敢肯定地说,佩斯卡可能不认识伯爵,但伯爵一定认识佩斯卡!

不仅是认识,更令人惊奇的是伯爵害怕佩斯卡。伯爵脸上的表情凝固了,像死人一样毫无血色,冷酷的灰眼睛恐惧地盯着这边。

脸上有疤的人似乎饶有兴趣地在一旁看着佩斯卡对伯爵的影响。

“那个胖子怎么那样看着我!”佩斯卡说,转过头看着我,“我从未见过他呀。”

佩斯卡扭头的时候,伯爵转身快步向剧场后边走去,那里人最多。我一把抓住佩斯卡的胳膊,不顾他的惊讶,拉着他紧追伯爵。那个脸上有疤的瘦子显然也准备离开剧场,并且已经走到了我们的前面。等我和佩斯卡赶到入口,伯爵和那个瘦子都已经不见了。

“佩斯卡,”我赶忙说,“我必须和你单独谈谈,我们到你的住处去谈可以吗?”

“这到底是怎么回事?”佩斯卡大声说。

我没回答,只是催着他赶紧走。伯爵离开剧场的样子,还有他迫不及待地要躲避佩斯卡,使我担心他可能会逃得更远——我可能再也找不到他了。

到了佩斯卡的住处,我以最快的速度向他讲述了事情的经过,他充满迷惑和惊讶地望着我。

他认识你——他很怕你。他离开剧场就是要逃避你,”我说,“这其中一定有原因,佩斯卡!回忆一下你来英国以前的经历。你是由于政治原因离开意大利的,我不是问你那些政治原因,不过那个人如此惊慌会不会同你的过去有什么关联?”

令我非常吃惊的是,这些本来无关紧要的话好像令佩斯卡非常惊恐。他的脸色变得煞白,身体开始颤抖。

“沃尔特!”他低声说,“你不知道你问了什么。”

我两眼紧盯着他,“佩斯卡,请原谅。我不是有意要给你带来痛苦,我说那些话只是因为那个人给我妻子带来了巨大的伤害。请你原谅我。”

我起身要离开,还没走到门口,他叫住了我。

“等一下,”他说,“你救过我的命,你有权从我这里知道你想要知道的东西,即使这会要了我的命。我唯一的请求是,即使你发现了我的过去同那个福斯科的关系,你也不要告诉我。”

接着,他开始讲他的经历,过去的记忆卷土重来,令他脸色煞白。

“我年轻的时候参加了一个秘密政治社团,现在还是它的成员。我们姑且叫它兄弟社团,我不能告诉你真实的名称。我当时完成了很多出生入死的任务,也做了一些给其他成员带来危险的事,所以社团命令我到英国待命。我服从命令来了英国——一直在等——现在还在等。我可能明天就被召回,也许是10年以后。我不知道。

“兄弟社团的宗旨是为人民争取权利。它在意大利有一个主席,国外有很多主席。每个主席都有秘书。主席和秘书认识所有的成员,但除非在必要的情况下,成员们彼此都不认识。每个兄弟社团成员的左臂内侧靠上的地方都有一个很小的圆形烙印,这是他们的记号。”

他卷起衣袖,给我看他自己的烙印。

“任何人背叛了兄弟社团,”他接着说,“他肯定会被处死。其他成员,也许是一个他不认识的陌生人,也许是他的邻居,会奉命杀死他。任何人不能退出社团——永远都不可以。”

佩斯卡停了一会儿又说:“在意大利,我被选为秘书,所有的成员那时都被带来见主席,当然也就见到了。你明白了我的意思——我从你的表情看出来了。但是,什么也别跟我说,求你了!我不想做我必须做的事,我感到害怕。

“我不认识剧场的那个人,”他最后说,“如果他认识,那他一定跟以前变化很大,或者伪装了自己,让我认不出来了。你现在走吧,沃尔特。我说得够多了。”

“我衷心地感谢你,佩斯卡,”我说,“你永远不会为信任我而后悔的。”

走在回家的路上,我的心情激动不已。我终于找到了对付伯爵的武器。我敢肯定他原来是一个兄弟社团成员,后来背叛了社团,他认为自己今晚被认出来了。现在他的生命很危险。不然他见到佩斯卡为什么那样害怕呢?

那他接着会做什么呢?尽快离开伦敦。如果我去他的住处拦住他,他肯定会毫不犹豫地杀了我。为保护我自己,我必须让他的生命安全地攥在我的手里。我赶忙回到家,给佩斯卡写了一封信:

剧场的那个人,福斯科,是你们社团的一个成员,他背叛了社团。赶快到他的住处圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特街5号。我已经死了。请用你的力量立即干掉他。

我签了名,写上日期,又在信封上写道:等到明天上午9点。如果到那时还没有我的消息,再打开信封读里面的内容。

然后,我找了一个信使,叫他把信送走并带回佩斯卡的回复,说他已经收到信了。20分钟后,我拿到了回复的纸条。我刚要离开,玛丽安出现在门口,脸上露出担忧的表情。

“就是今天晚上吗?”她说,“你要去找伯爵。”

“对,这是最后的机会,也是最好的机会。”

“噢,沃尔特,别一个人去!让我跟你去吧,不要一个人去!”

“不行,玛丽安。你必须留在这里替我保护劳拉。那样,我面对伯爵的时候才会放心。”

*  *  *

快到伯爵住处的时候,我碰见了脸上有疤的那个人,早些时候在剧场就见过他。他在这儿做什么,我心里很纳闷。

我把名片递进去,我到现在也不明白,为什么夜里11点半伯爵还让我进去。他对我好奇,想见我?他并不知道我和佩斯卡同在剧场,我猜想他觉得我没有什么好怕的。

他还穿着晚礼服,地上有一个旅行箱,他周围满是书籍、文件和衣服。我猜的没错。

“你来这里有事,哈特里特先生?”他一边说,一边用好奇的眼光打量我,“我想不出会是什么事。”

“你像是在准备出门旅行,”我说,“这就是我来的原因。我知道你为什么要离开伦敦。”

“你知道我为什么要离开伦敦?”他走到一张桌旁,打开抽屉,“如果你愿意,说说为什么。”

“我可以让你看看为什么,”我说,“把你左边的衣袖卷起,就能看到。”

他那冷酷的灰眼睛一动不动地盯着我。接下来是一阵令人紧张的寂静。我就像亲眼所见一样清楚,那抽屉里藏着枪,我现在命悬一线。

“等一下,”我说,“你动手之前,我建议你看看这个纸条。”我慢慢地、小心翼翼地把佩斯卡的纸条递给他。

他出声读着纸条。

你的信收到了。如果9点以前没有你的消息,9点整,钟一响我就打开信封。

假如换作另外一个人,可能需要一些解释,但伯爵不需要。他脸上的表情变了,他关上了抽屉。

“你比我想的要聪明,”他说,“我9点以前走不了,我得等人给我送护照来。你得到的信息可能是真的,也可能是假的。你是从哪儿知道的?”

“我不会告诉你的。”

“你给我的没有签名的纸条是谁写的?”

“一个你非常害怕的人。”

他停了一会儿,“你要我做什么,哈特里特先生?是不是跟一位女士有关?”

“是的,是我妻子。”我回答。

他非常吃惊地看着我。看得出他不再认为我会给他带来危险了。他双手交叉抱在胸前,面带冷笑听我继续说下去。

“你犯下了严重的罪行,”我接着说道,“但是,你可以留着你得到的钱。我只要一个由你签名的认罪书,还有我妻子回伦敦的日期证明。”

“好!”他说,“这是你的条件,我的条件是:第一,福斯科夫人和我在我们愿意的时候离开这里,你不要阻止我们。第二,你呆在这里,明天一早我的代理人过来,你让他取回那封还没有打开的信。然后,你要给我们半个小时的时间离开这里。第三,你答应跟我在国外找一个地方决斗。你接受我的条件吗——是还是否?”

他的迅速决断,他的精干和意志力令我震惊。我犹豫了一会儿。我应该让他逃走吗?是的,证明劳拉身份的证据比复仇重要得多。

“我接受你的条件。”我说。

他随即叫人拿来咖啡,坐下开始写。他落笔如飞,写了很长时间。最后,他站起来,说他已经写完了并念给我听。我觉得还满意。他给了我他租车接劳拉的那家公司的地址,同时给我的还有珀西瓦尔爵士签名的一封信。信的日期是7月25日,里面说格莱德夫人将于7月26日启程去伦敦。这就是证据。7月25日,即死亡证明上宣告劳拉死于伦敦的日子,劳拉还在汉普郡活着准备第二天的旅行。

然后,伯爵把福斯科夫人叫进来,让她看着我,他自己去睡觉。第二天一早,他的代理人来了,我给佩斯卡写了封短信。一个小时后,代理人拿着我那封没打开的信和护照回来了。

“别忘了第三个条件!”伯爵临走时说,“你会收到我的信的,哈特里特先生。”说完,他和伯爵夫人坐上代理人的马车离开了这里,代理人留下来,确保我不跟踪他们。

我看着他们离开,这时另一辆马车驶过去,车里坐着那个脸上有疤的人。他和伯爵有什么瓜葛?我看到他好几次了,不应该是巧合。或许我跟伯爵的较量正是时候。他要是死了,我就没法得到他签名的笔录了。

在约定的半小时里,我读了伯爵写给我的认罪书。

伊西多·奥塔维奥·鲍尔德塞尔·福斯科的证词

1850年夏天,由于微妙的政治原因我来到英国,同我的朋友珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士住在一起。我们两人都急需一大笔钱。唯一拥有这笔钱的人是他妻子,但是他妻子不死,我们一分钱也得不到。更糟糕的是,我的朋友又遇到了别的麻烦事。一个叫安妮·凯瑟里克的女人藏在我们附近,她在同格莱德夫人接触,并且掌握着一个可以毁掉珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。如果他完蛋了,那我们的经济利益怎么办呢?

我们要做的第一件事就是找到安妮·凯瑟里克。我了解到她的长相和格莱德夫人极为相似。她是从精神病院逃出来的。我突发奇想,把格莱德夫人同安妮·凯瑟里克的名字、住处、经历互换一下。互换的结果既可以让我们得到3万英镑,又能够保住珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。

我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,说服她和她的朋友回伦敦去。我自己在圣约翰伍德租了房子,同时从利默里奇的费尔利先生那里得到了邀请格莱德夫人去看望他的信。要实现我的计划,必须让格莱德夫人一个人离开布莱克沃特庄园,在去往利默里奇的途中在我家里住一夜。哈尔库姆小姐的病让我的计划更容易进行了。我回到布莱克沃特庄园,等哈尔库姆小姐一脱离危险,就辞退了医生,并且让珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了所有仆人。

下一步,我们让米切尔森太太离开庄园几天。一天晚上,福斯科夫人、鲁贝尔太太和我把昏睡中的哈尔库姆小姐抬到了一个没有人住的房间里。转天一早,我和夫人赶往伦敦,留下珀西瓦尔爵士劝说格莱德夫人,让她相信她姐姐已经去了利默里奇,她也应该去找她,途中在伦敦我的家休息。

7月24日,在我妻子的协助下,我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,把她带到我的住处,假装就是格莱德夫人。然而,当安妮·凯瑟里克看到没有一个她认识的人时,吓得叫了起来。令我非常害怕的是,惊吓使她脆弱的心脏无法承受,转天她就死了。她是25日死的,可是格莱德夫人26日才能到伦敦!

改变计划已经来不及了。我尽量保持头脑冷静,继续着原来的计划。26日,我把已死的假格莱德夫人留在家里,到车站去接真正的格莱德夫人,带她到鲁贝尔太太家。我雇用的(可以这样说)两个医生很容易就被说服了,他们证明迷惑而惊恐的格莱德夫人患了精神病。而后,我给她吃了镇静药,让鲁贝尔太太给她穿上安妮·凯瑟里克的衣服。第二天,也就是27日,格莱德夫人被送进精神病院,那里的人非常吃惊,但没有人怀疑。假格莱德夫人被埋葬在利默里奇。我出席了葬礼,表现出应有的悲伤与同情。

还有最后一个问题,如果安妮·凯瑟里克没有死的话,我会怎么办呢?我当然很高兴帮她摆脱牢笼般的人生。

15
The proof

When the half hour had passed, I returned home. After a brief explanation to Laura and Marian, I hurried back to St John's Wood to find the cab-driver whom the Count had hired to collect Laura at the station. He wrote me a statement, which he and a witness signed, saying that on 26th July 1850 he had driven a Count Fosco to the railway station where they had collected a Lady Glyde. He remembered Lady Glyde's name, he said, from the labels on her luggage.

Then I went to Mr Kyrle's office and presented him with the proof of Laura's identity — the letter from Sir Percival, the statement by the cab-driver, the confession by the Count, and the death certificate. Amazed, he congratulated me, and agreed to accompany us to Limmeridge the next day, where I intended to have Laura publicly received and recognized.

Early the next morning Laura, Marian, Mr Kyrle and I took the train to Limmeridge. Laura and Marian stayed at first in a hotel while Mr Kyrle and I went to the house to deal with Mr Fairlie. He complained like a child, saying how was he to know his niece was alive when he was told she was dead? Between us, the lawyer and I made him sign letters calling all those who had attended the false funeral to come to the house the next day.

As I led Laura into her childhood home the following morning, there was a murmur of surprise and interest from the waiting crowd of villagers and neighbours. The business was soon done. I read out the story of the plot against Laura, and Mr Kyrle announced that everything I had said was proved by the strongest evidence. I put my arm around Laura, raised her up, and called to the crowd:

'Are you all agreed that this is the Laura Fairlie you knew?'

'There she is, alive and well — God bless her!' It was an old man at the back of the room who began it, and in an instant everybody was shouting and cheering together.

Later, in the churchyard, we watched a stone worker remove Laura's name from the gravestone. In its place he put this:

ANNE CATHERICK

25TH JULY 1850

We returned to London the following day, happy in the thought that the long struggle was now over.

*  *  *

Several days later Pesca came to see me, and asked for a quiet word in my ear. He had just returned from Paris.

'I have news for you, my friend,' he said. 'You need not worry any more about the man at the opera. His body was found in the river Seine yesterday and now lies in the morgue in Paris. He was killed by knife wounds to the heart.'

'Count Fosco is dead?' I said, amazed. 'Are you sure?'

'I saw the body with my own eyes. He was wearing a French workman's clothes, and had a different name, of course, but he was the fat man we saw at the opera that night. No question.'

'But how do you know this?' I asked.

Pesca hesitated. 'A man brought me some information,' he said. 'I had to see the body, and send a report about it.'

'A man,' I said. 'What kind of man?'

'A stranger,' said Pesca. 'I didn't know him. A man with a scar on his left cheek.' He saw the understanding in my face, and held up his hand. 'No more questions, my friend. Please!'

We never spoke about it again, but I think Pesca was telling me that the Brotherhood had taken their revenge. And so Count Fosco, that extraordinary, evil man, passed from this world.

*  *  *

The following year our first child was born — a son. Six months later my newspaper sent me to Ireland and, when I returned, I found a note from my wife saying she and Marian and little Walter had gone to Limmeridge House. She begged me to follow as soon as possible. Very surprised, I caught the next train. When I got there, Marian and Laura told me Mr Fairlie was dead and that Mr Kyrle had advised them to go to Limmeridge House.

Laura came close to me and I half realized some great change was happening in our lives.

'Do you know who this is, Walter?' Marian asked, holding up my little son, with tears of happiness in her eyes. 'This is the boy who will one day inherit Limmeridge House.'

So she spoke. In writing those last words, I have written everything. Marian was the good friend of our lives — let Marian end our story.


label n. a small piece of paper, card etc. attached to an object and giving information about it 标签

congratulate v. express pleasure at the happiness or good fortune or excellence of a person 祝贺

morgue n. a room or building in which dead bodies may be kept until burial or cremation 停尸间

15.证据

alt

那半个小时过去了,我回到家里。简单地向劳拉和玛丽安说明了情况后,我立即赶回圣约翰伍德去找那个伯爵雇来到车站接劳拉的车夫。那人给我写了份证词,他和另一个证人都签了字。证词说,1850年7月26日他驾车送福斯科伯爵去车站,接了一位格莱德夫人。他说还记得格莱德夫人的名字,是在行李标签上看到的。

然后,我去了克尔先生的办公室,给他看了证明劳拉身份的证据——珀西瓦尔爵士的信、马车夫的证词、伯爵的认罪书和那份死亡证明。克尔先生很吃惊,接着向我表示祝贺并且答应第二天陪我们到利默里奇,我准备让人们公开地接受和认可劳拉。

转天的一大早,劳拉、玛丽安、克尔先生和我乘火车前往利默里奇。劳拉和玛丽安先在一家旅店里休息,克尔先生和我去庄园与费尔利先生交涉。费尔利先生像孩子一样抱怨说,有人告诉他他侄女死了,他怎么会知道他侄女还活着?在只有我们三个人的情况下,克尔先生和我让他在事先准备好的信上签字,邀请所有参加那场假葬礼的人第二天到费尔利家来。

第二天早晨,当我带着劳拉走进她儿时的家时,等候在那里的村民和邻居们发出惊奇的低语声。很快我们进入了正题。我大声宣读了针对劳拉的罪恶阴谋的全过程,克尔先生当众宣布我说的每一件事都证据确凿。我搂住劳拉,扶她起来,高声对众人说:

“你们说这是不是你们认识的劳拉·费尔利?”

“是她,她还好好地活着——上帝保佑她!”一位站在屋子后面的老人首先说,其他人也都立刻欢呼起来。

后来,在教堂墓地里,我们亲眼看着一位石匠把劳拉的名字从墓碑上凿去,在原来的地方刻上:

安妮·凯瑟里克

卒于1850年7月25日

转天,我们返回了伦敦,想到漫长的斗争终于结束了,我们都非常高兴。

*  *  *

过了几天,佩斯卡来看我,要跟我单独聊聊。他刚从巴黎回来。

“我有重要的消息要告诉你,我的朋友,”他说,“你不用再担心剧场里的那个人了,昨天在塞纳河发现了他的尸体,现在他的尸体停放在巴黎的停尸间。他是被人用刀子刺进心脏而死的。”

“福斯科伯爵已经死了?”我吃惊地问,“你能肯定吗?”

“我亲眼看了他的尸体,他穿着法国工人的制服,当然也换了名字,但他就是那天晚上我们在剧场见到的那个胖子。一点儿没错。”

“可你是怎么知道这个消息的呢?”我问。

佩斯卡犹豫了一下。“有人告诉我的,”他说,“我必须亲眼看到他的尸体,然后发一个报告。”

“有人,”我说,“是什么人?”

“一个陌生人,”佩斯卡回答,“我不认识那个人,他的左脸上有一道疤。”看到我脸上了然的表情,他抬了抬手,“请不要多问了,我的朋友!”

我们再没有提起这件事,不过我想佩斯卡是要告诉我兄弟社团已经采取了复仇行动。就这样,福斯科伯爵,那个能力不俗的恶徒从这个世界上消失了。

*  *  *

第二年,我们的第一个孩子出世了——是个儿子。6个月以后,我供职的那家报社派我去了爱尔兰。我回来的时候,看到妻子留给我的一封短信,信上说她和玛丽安还有小沃尔特去了利默里奇庄园。她让我尽快去找他们。我感到很惊讶,赶下一班火车去了那里。我到那儿之后,玛丽安和劳拉告诉我费尔利先生去世了,是克尔先生建议她们到利默里奇庄园去的。

劳拉走到我身边,我朦胧地意识到我们的生活将要发生什么大事。

“你知道这是谁吗,沃尔特?”玛丽安一边举起我的小儿子,一边问我,眼睛里充满了喜悦的泪水,“这个孩子将来有一天会继承利默里奇庄园。”

她就是这样说的。写完了最后几句话,我的讲述就到这里了。玛丽安是我们的终生好友——就让她结束我们的故事吧。

秘密

PART THREE
THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
第三部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

9
The gravestone

On 13th October 1850 I left the wild forests of Central America and returned to England. I had escaped death by disease, death by war, and death by drowning, and hoped that these experiences had strengthened me to face my future — a future without Laura Fairlie. I still remembered her as Laura Fairlie, and could not think of her by her husband's name.

The first thing I did was to visit my mother and sister in their Hampstead cottage. The joy of our meeting, however, soon turned to sadness. I have no secrets from my mother, and when I saw the loving pity in her eyes, I feared the worst.

The news was soon told. I tried hard not to let my sorrow spoil the happiness of my return for my mother and sister, but by the third day I knew I had to go away alone for a while.

'Let me go up to Limmeridge,' I begged my mother. 'I can bear it better when I have seen her grave.'

It was a warm autumn afternoon when I arrived at the station and walked down the familiar road, seeing in the distance the high white walls of Limmeridge House. In the churchyard I found the grave and knelt down beside the gravestone, closing my eyes.

Oh my love! My Love! My dear, dear Love!

Hours passed, and the evening sunlight threw long shadows among the sleeping places of the dead. I had lost all sense of time, kneeling there. Then, in the silence, I heard the soft sound of footsteps on the grass.

I looked up.

Beyond me, standing together by the churchyard wall, were two women, their veils down, hiding their faces. They were looking towards the grave, looking towards me.

Two.

They came closer, and stopped. One of them lifted her veil, and in the still evening light I saw the face of Marian Halcombe. A changed face. Thin and pale, full of pain and fear.

The woman with the veiled face came towards me slowly. Marian Halcombe sank to her knees, murmuring, 'Oh God, help him! Please, please help him, God!'

The veiled woman came on, slowly and silently. I looked at her — at her, and at no one else, from that moment. She had possession of me, body and soul. She stopped by the side of the gravestone, and we stood face to face with the grave between us.

'Oh God, help him, help him!'

The woman lifted her veil.

In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde...

Laura, Lady Glyde, was standing by the gravestone, looking at me over her grave.

*  *  *

A life suddenly changed. A new future before me, like the sunlit view from a mountain top. I leave my story in the quiet shadow of Limmeridge church, and begin again, one week later, in the noise and rush of a London street.

I have rented rooms under a different name. Marian and Laura, using the same name, are said to be my sisters. I earn our bread by doing drawings for cheap magazines. We employ no servant; my elder sister, Marian, does the housework with her own hands. Marian and I are known to be the friends of mad Anne Catherick (address unknown), who falsely claims the identity of Lady Glyde. To the rest of the world, Laura, Lady Glyde, is dead. Dead to her uncle, who has refused to recognize her; dead to the lawyers, who have passed her fortune to her husband and aunt.

But to Marian and me she is alive! Penniless and sadly changed — her beauty faded, her mind confused — but alive, with her poor drawing teacher to fight her battles and to win her way back to the world of living beings. She is mine at last — mine to support, to protect, to defend. And mine to love.


drown v. to kill by submerging and suffocating in liquid 淹死;溺死

strengthen v. make stronger 变得坚强

veil n. a piece of fabric attached to a woman's hat 面纱

earn one's bread earn one's living 维持生计

penniless adj. having no money 身无分文的

9.墓碑

1850年10月13日我离开中美洲的原始森林,回到了英国。我一次次逃过疾病、战争和洪水带来的死亡危险。我希望这些经历能够使我更加坚强地面对未来——没有劳拉的未来。在我心里她依然是劳拉·费尔利,我无法把她冠以她丈夫的姓氏。

我回来后的第一件事是到汉普斯特德看望母亲和妹妹。欢聚的快乐很快转化为悲伤。我没有任何秘密瞒着母亲,从她充满爱怜和同情的眼光里,我预感到最坏的事情发生了。

她们把消息告诉了我。我尽最大努力不让自己的悲哀破坏我回家带给母亲和妹妹的喜悦。但是,回来的第三天,我觉得必须一个人离开一段时间。

“让我到利默里奇去一趟吧,”我恳求着母亲,“看到她的坟墓,我可以更好地接受这一切。”

那是一个秋日的午后,天气很暖和,我到达目的地车站,走在熟悉的大路上,望着远处利默里奇庄园的白色高墙。在教堂墓地里,我找到了劳拉的墓,在她的墓碑前跪下来,闭上了双眼。

我的爱人我的爱人我最亲爱的人

几个小时过去了,落日的余辉在死者的安息地投下长长的影子。我跪在那里,完全没有了时间概念。这时,寂静中传来人走在草地上的脚步声。

我抬起头来。

不远处,教堂墓地的围墙边站着两个女人,面纱遮住了她们的脸。她们正朝墓地张望,正朝张望。

两个女人。

她们朝我走来。其中一个掀起了面纱,借着仅有的一点儿光线,我看出那是玛丽安·哈尔库姆小姐。她的脸变得跟从前不一样了:清瘦而苍白,充满了痛苦和恐惧。

头戴面纱的女人缓慢地向我走来。玛丽安·哈尔库姆跪下来,轻声说:“噢,上帝,帮帮他吧,帮帮他吧,上帝!”

头戴面纱的女人向我走来,缓慢地,无言地向我走来。我注视着她——目不转睛地久久注视着她。她占据了我的一切,我的灵魂和肉体。她在墓碑前停住脚步,我们隔着坟墓互相注视着。

“噢,上帝,帮帮他,帮帮他吧!”

那个女人掀起了面纱。

爱妻劳拉·格莱德夫人之墓……

劳拉·格莱德夫人,她就站在墓碑旁,隔着坟墓望着我。

alt

*  *  *

生活突然间变了。一个崭新的未来展现在我的面前,就像在山顶上看到的撒满阳光的景色。我把过去的故事留在了利默里奇教堂那寂静的阴影中,一星期后在喧闹、繁忙的伦敦开始了新的生活。

我换了一个姓氏租了房子。玛丽安和劳拉也用同样的姓氏,对外人就说是我的姐妹。我靠给廉价杂志画画维持生计。我们没有请仆人,我的姐姐,玛丽安亲自做家务。我和玛丽安对外就说是疯女人安妮·凯瑟里克(住址不详)的朋友,那疯女人总说自己是格莱德夫人。对世界上其他人来说,劳拉·格莱德夫人已经死了;对拒不承认她的叔叔,她已经死了;对把她的财产转给她丈夫和姑妈的律师,她也已经死了。

但是对于玛丽安和我,她还活着!她身无分文,人也变了——她的美丽在消逝,头脑一片混乱——但她还活着,她那可怜的绘画教师要为她奋争,使她重新回到真实的生活中来。她终于属于我了——由我供养、呵护、保护,由我所爱。

10
The rescue

At the first opportunity we had, Marian told me everything that had happened to her and Laura. The hardest part for her was after she had returned to Limmeridge House.

'I was in despair, Walter,' she said. 'Mr Kyrle's investigation was finished, and had shown nothing, he said. Mr Fairlie was no help at all — I heard that he didn't even leave his room to go to the funeral! But he did show me a letter he'd received from Count Fosco, which contained news of Anne Catherick. The Count said that Anne Catherick had been found and put back in the asylum from which she had escaped. But because she hated Sir Percival and wanted to make trouble for him, she was now claiming that she was not Anne Catherick at all, but Lady Glyde. The Count warned Mr Fairlie that if she escaped again, she might try to annoy members of Lady Glyde's family.

'I wasn't well enough to do anything for about a month after returning to Limmeridge, but when I felt stronger, I decided to make some investigations myself. First, I planned to visit the asylum in London and talk to poor Anne Catherick, to find out why she was claiming to be Laura. I knew the address because you had given it to me, all those months ago.

'Well, Walter, you can guess what's coming, I'm sure. The director of the asylum, who seemed an honest person, told me that Anne Catherick had been brought back on 27th July. He was puzzled by some odd personal changes in her, but assumed they were caused by her mental illness. He then called a nurse to take me to Anne Catherick, who was walking in the gardens.

'Imagine the shock, Walter — seeing my dead sister walking towards me in that garden! We just ran into each other's arms, unable to say a word. How the nurse stared at us!'

'I think I know how you must have felt,' I said. 'I shall never forget in the churchyard at Limmeridge... But tell me, however did you get Laura out of the asylum?'

'Bribery, Walter. I didn't want to risk a legal battle and all the delay that would involve, so I persuaded the nurse that a terrible mistake had been made and she would be doing a good thing in helping Anne Catherick escape. And I offered her £400. The plan went smoothly, and by early afternoon the next day Laura and I were on the train to Cumberland.'

'And Laura?' I asked. 'What actually happened on the day she left Blackwater Park and came to London?'

Marian sighed. 'Oh, Walter, it's not at all clear. Poor Laura's mind is so confused now that her memory of events is very unreliable. She can't even remember the date she left Blackwater. All she has been able to tell me is this. The Count met her at the station, and said that I was still in London and that he would take her to see me at once. She doesn't remember where the cab went, but it was clearly not to his house in St John's Wood. She was taken to a house in a narrow street, where people came and went, asking her questions she didn't understand. At this point the Count told her I was now very ill; she was so frightened by this news she nearly fainted. Someone then gave her a glass of water, which she said tasted odd — and after that she lost consciousness.'

'Poor, poor Laura,' I murmured.

'She woke up,' Marian continued, 'in the asylum, unable to leave, unable to make contact with the outside world. She was called by Anne Catherick's name and found she was wearing clothes with Anne Catherick's name on them. She was told Lady Glyde was dead and buried, and that she was Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick... Day in, day out, from 27th July to 15th October, she was made to feel that she was mad. It's hardly surprising her mind is so confused now.'

'And what happened at Limmeridge?' I asked.

Marian turned her face away. 'I can't bear to think about it,' she said. 'The worst part was taking Laura into Mr Fairlie's room. He looked straight into Laura's face and said, "My niece is buried in Limmeridge churchyard. I don't recognize this woman. Remove her from my house before I call on the law to protect me." Even the servants were doubtful about her identity, because she was so much changed and so confused by her experiences. Perhaps people would have been persuaded if we'd stayed longer, but I didn't dare risk it. At any minute the people from the asylum might come looking for us, so I decided to return to London at once and hide. Then, as we were passing the churchyard, Laura insisted on a last look at her mother's grave. And... well, that moment changed our three lives.'

'I think God was guiding Laura's footsteps,' I said.

How well I remember that day — that moment when Laura laid her poor head innocently and trustingly on my shoulder, and said, 'They have tried to make me forget everything, Walter, but I remember Marian, and I remember you.'

*  *  *

The plot against Laura was now clear. Anne Catherick had been taken into Count Fosco's house as Lady Glyde, and Lady Glyde had taken the dead woman's place in the asylum. It was also clear that the three of us could expect no mercy from Count Fosco and Sir Percival, who between them had gained £30,000 from the plot. They would do everything in their power to prevent their crime being discovered, and would hunt for their victim to separate her from her only friends — Marian and myself. This is why I had chosen a poor and crowded part of London to live in. It is easier to hide in a place where people are always coming and going.

Our life quickly took on a regular pattern — work, watching out for our enemies, and care of Laura, whom we surrounded with a gentle, protective love, helping her slowly but steadily to recover her balance of mind and her self-confidence.

Meanwhile, Marian and I began the battle. We studied the statements that Mr Kyrle had taken from witnesses — the doctor, and the servants and cook in Count Fosco's house. I obtained a copy of Lady Glyde's death certificate, and Marian wrote to Mrs Michelson, who replied, saying that she could not remember the exact date of Laura's departure from Blackwater Park. Nor could she remember when the letter announcing Laura's death, which was undated, had arrived from Madame Fosco.

I also arranged to visit Mr Kyrle, to ask for his help. After listening to my long explanation, the lawyer shook his head.

'My legal opinion, Mr Hartright, is that you won't win this case in a court of law. I accept, of course, that the identity of Lady Glyde as a living person is a proved fact to Miss Halcombe and yourself. But there is no evidence. If you could prove that the date on the death certificate was earlier than the date of Lady Glyde's journey to London, then you might have a case.'

As I left, he gave me a letter that had been delivered to him for Marian, and told me, in answer to my question, that Sir Percival Glyde had returned to London.

Outside in the street I soon noticed two men following me, and realized too late that the Count's spies must have been watching the lawyer's office, in the hope that Marian or I would go there. I went home by a very long route and managed to lose them, but it was a warning to me to be more careful.

Marian was very worried when I told her about the two men. Then I gave her the letter. She recognized the writing instantly.

'It's from Count Fosco.'


Dear and admirable woman, do not be afraid! Stay hidden, with your gentle companion, and nothing will happen to you. Challenge nothing, threaten nobody. Do not, I beg you, force me into action. If Mr Hartright returns to England, do not speak to him. If he crosses my path, he is a Lost man. F.


'Walter!' Marian said, her eyes flashing with anger. 'If ever the Count and Sir Percival are at your mercy and you must spare one of them, don't let it be the Count.'

'I'll keep this letter to remind me when the time comes,' I said. 'But tomorrow I will go to Blackwater, to try and find out the date of Laura's journey to London. It's the one weak point in their plot.'

'You mean that perhaps Laura did not leave for London until after the date on the death certificate?'

'Exactly. I think she left on 26th July. The Director of the asylum said she was taken there on the 27th. I doubt if they could have kept her drugged more than one night. We know from Mrs Michelson that Sir Percival left on the same day as Laura. I'll ask everyone in the village if they remember when he left.'

'And if that fails?'

'If that fails, Marian, I'll force a confession from Sir Percival. We have one weapon against him — his secret. Anne Catherick said that if his secret was known, it would ruin him. I intend to find out that secret. The woman in white, though dead in her grave, is still with us and is showing us the way!'


bribery n. persuading a person to act in one's favor by a gift of money or services 贿赂

unreliable adj. not liable 不可靠的

plot n. a conspiracy or secret plan esp. to achieve an unlawful end 阴谋

mercy n. kindness, pity, and willingness to forgive 仁慈

cross one's path meet sb by chance 与…偶然相遇

flash v. burst 闪烁

10.营救

我们刚一有机会交谈,玛丽安就把她和劳拉的遭遇从头到尾讲给我听。最令她难过的是回到利默里奇之后的经历。

“我太绝望了,沃尔特,”她说,“克尔先生的调查结束了,他说什么也没发现。费尔利先生一点儿忙也不帮——我听说他甚至都没离开他的房间去参加葬礼!不过他倒是把福斯科伯爵的信给了我,信里面有安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。伯爵说安妮·凯瑟里克已经找到了,被送回了原来的精神病院。但是,凯瑟里克因为痛恨珀西瓦尔爵士,想给他找麻烦,所以她现在自称不是安妮·凯瑟里克,而是格莱德夫人。伯爵提醒费尔利先生,假如她再逃出来,很可能要给格莱德夫人的家人添乱子。

“回来的头一个月,我身体虚弱,什么也干不了。后来身体恢复了,我决定亲自去调查。首先,我准备去伦敦的精神病院找可怜的安妮·凯瑟里克谈谈,弄清楚为什么她要自称是劳拉。我知道地址,是你几个月前给我的。

“噢,沃尔特,我相信你能猜到接下来发生的事情。精神病院的院长看上去是个正直的人,他告诉我,安妮·凯瑟里克是7月27日被送回来的。他对凯瑟里克身上的变化感到很困惑,但他推测是由于精神方面的疾病造成的。然后,他叫一名护士带我去见安妮·凯瑟里克,她正在花园散步。

“想象一下,当时我有多么震惊,沃尔特——我看到自己死去的妹妹在花园里朝我走来!我们跑向对方,紧紧地抱在一起,一句话也说不出来。护士不解地望着我们。”

“我很清楚你当时的心情,”我说,“我永远不会忘记在利默里奇教堂墓地……可是,你是怎么把劳拉救出精神病院的呢?”

“贿赂,沃尔特。我不想打官司,那样太冒险,也会耽误很长时间。所以,我对护士说,这里一定有严重的误会,如果她能帮助安妮·凯瑟里克逃走,就做了一件天大的好事。之后,我给了她400英镑。计划进行得很顺利,第二天刚过中午,我和劳拉就乘上了开往坎伯兰郡的火车。”

“那么,劳拉呢?”我问,“她离开布莱克沃特庄园到伦敦后,到底发生了什么?”

玛丽安叹了口气,“噢,沃尔特,现在还不清楚。可怜的劳拉思维很乱,她的记忆不可靠。她连离开布莱克沃特的日期都记不起来。她能告诉我的就是,伯爵在车站接她,告诉她我还在伦敦,他要带劳拉马上去见我。她不记得车往哪里走了,但是很明显不是去伯爵在圣约翰伍德的家。她被带进一条小巷里的一间房子,那里人来人往,问一些她听不懂的问题。这时,伯爵告诉她我病得很严重,她听了非常害怕,几乎昏了过去。接着有人给了她一杯水,她说水的味道很怪,之后她就失去了知觉。”

“可怜的劳拉。”我低声自语着。

“她醒来以后,”玛丽安接着说,“发现自己在精神病院里,既不能离开,也无法同外界接触。别人叫她安妮·凯瑟里克,她发现自己穿着有安妮·凯瑟里克名字的衣服。别人告诉她格莱德夫人已经死了,被安葬了,她就是安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克……一天又一天,从7月27日到10月15日,他们强迫她认为自己疯了。难怪现在她思维混乱。”

“在利默里奇发生了什么?”我问道。

玛丽安把头转向一侧。“我简直不忍心想在那儿发生的事情。”她回答,“最糟的就是我带劳拉走进费尔利先生的房间后,他紧盯着劳拉的脸说:‘我侄女已经埋在利默里奇教堂墓地了。我不认识这个女人。赶快带她出去,不然我要用法律来保护自己了。’仆人们也对劳拉的身份很怀疑,因为她变化太大了,她的经历也让她思绪异常混乱。也许我们逗留的时间长一些,大家会被说服,但是我不想冒这个险,因为精神病院的人随时都会来找我们,所以我决定马上回伦敦躲起来。当我们经过教堂的时候,劳拉坚持要最后再看一眼她母亲的坟墓。后来……嗯,那一刻改变了我们三个人的生活。”

“我想是上帝在引导着劳拉的脚步。”我说。

我清楚地记得那天——可怜的劳拉将头依偎在我的肩头,充满了纯洁与信任。她说:“他们想叫我忘掉一切,沃尔特,但我还记得玛丽安,我还记得。”

*  *  *

针对劳拉的阴谋现在已经清楚了。安妮·凯瑟里克被当作格莱德夫人带进了福斯科伯爵的家里,格莱德夫人在精神病院里取代了那个已经死了的女人的位置。还有一点也很明显,福斯科伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士是不会放过我们三个的。他们两人从这个阴谋中得到30,000英镑。他们会尽一切可能不让他们的罪行败露,也会极力追寻他们所陷害的人,并把她同她的朋友们——玛丽安和我——分开。这就是为什么我选择伦敦一处既贫穷又拥挤的地方住下来,因为在一个人来人往的地方比较容易躲藏。

我们的生活很快形成了一个较为固定的模式——工作,留意我们的敌人,照顾劳拉。我们细心地照顾她,保护她,帮助她慢慢地恢复正常的思维和自信心。

与此同时,玛丽安和我开始了紧张的调查。我们仔细研究克尔先生记录的证词——分别来自医生以及伯爵家的仆人和厨师。我弄到了一份格莱德夫人的死亡证明。玛丽安给米切尔森太太写信,米切尔森太太回信说记不清劳拉离开布莱克沃特庄园的确切日期了,也记不清福斯科夫人来信通知他们劳拉死讯的具体时间了,那封信没有注明日期。

我还安排与克尔先生见面,请求他的帮助。听我把前因后果一一讲完后,克尔先生摇了摇头。

“作为律师,哈特里特先生,我认为你不会赢得这场官司。当然我同意,你和哈尔库姆小姐可以证明格莱德夫人还活着,但是你没有证据。如果你能证明死亡证明上的时间比格莱德夫人去伦敦的时间,那你可能会赢这场官司。”

我要离开的时候,他交给我一封信,是要他转给玛丽安的。同时,他在回答我的提问时透露,珀西瓦尔爵士已经回到伦敦了。

在外面的街道上,我很快注意到有两个人在跟踪我。我这才意识到伯爵的人肯定一直在监视克尔先生的办公室,以防玛丽安和我会到那儿去。我绕远路回家,设法甩掉了跟踪我的人,但是这件事提醒我今后要更加小心。

我把两个人跟踪我的事告诉了玛丽安,她非常担心。我把那封信交给她,她马上就认出了写信人的笔迹。

“是福斯科伯爵写的。”


亲爱的、尊敬的女士,请不要害怕!继续同你温柔的伙伴藏好,你们就不会有事。不要试图做任何事情,不要给任何人带来威胁。我请求你们,不要强迫我采取行动。如果哈特里特先生回英国来,不要同他接触。假如他找我的麻烦,他就死定了。福斯科。


“沃尔特!”玛丽安眼里闪着愤怒的光,“如果伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士落到你的手里,而你又必须放过他们中的一个的话,一定不要放过伯爵。”

“我要留着这封信,让它到时候提醒我应该怎么做,”我说,“明天我要去一趟布莱克沃特,查一查劳拉去伦敦的日期。这是他们阴谋中的一个漏洞。”

“你是说劳拉可能是在死亡证明上的日期之后才去伦敦的?”

“没错。我想她是7月26日动身的。精神病院的院长说她是27日被送进去的。我怀疑他们是否能让劳拉昏迷超过一晚上的时间。米切尔森太太说,珀西瓦尔爵士是和劳拉同一天离开的。我要问村里的每一个人,是不是还记得珀西瓦尔爵士什么时候离开的。”

“如果这样不行呢?”

“如果不行的话,玛丽安,我就逼珀西瓦尔爵士认罪。我们用他的秘密对付他,安妮·凯瑟里克说如果他的秘密让人知道了,那他就完了。我想查出他的秘密来。那个白衣女人虽说已经死了,但是还同我们在一起,她会为我们引路的!”

11
The investigation

The story of my first enquiries in Hampshire is soon told. Not a single person in the village of Blackwater could remember exactly when Sir Percival Glyde had left. Even the gardener at the house could only say it was some time in the last ten days of July.

'So, on to the next plan,' I said to Marian back in London, 'which is to pursue the secret. I need to talk to Anne Catherick's mother, but first I must find out something about her from Mrs Clements, Anne's friend. But how do I find Mrs Clements?'

Marian had the answer to that. 'You remember the farm she and Anne stayed at near Limmeridge? We'll write to them — they might know Mrs Clements' address.'

We were lucky. The farmer's wife did know the address, and wrote back by return to tell us. It was in London, not far from our rooms, and the next morning I was knocking at the door.

Mrs Clements was anxious to know if I had brought her any news of Anne, and very sad to learn that I had not. However, she was willing to tell me everything she knew.

'After leaving Limmeridge, sir,' she said, 'Anne and I went to live in the northeast of England, and that's when Anne started to suffer from heart disease. She wasn't at all well, but she insisted on travelling to Hampshire, because she wanted to speak to Lady Glyde. So we went there and stayed in a village near Blackwater — not too close as Anne was so frightened of Sir Percival.

'Each time Anne went to the lake to try to speak to Lady Glyde, I followed her at a distance. But the long walks made her so exhausted that she became ill again, so finally I went to the lake in her place to meet Lady Glyde. She didn't come that day, but a very fat man came instead with a message from her. The message was that we should return to London immediately, as Sir Percival would certainly find us if we stayed longer. Lady Glyde was going to London herself very soon and if we sent her our address, she would contact us.'

'But she didn't, did she?' I said, thinking how cleverly Count Fosco had lied to this kind woman.

'No, sir. I found lodgings and sent the address to Lady Glyde, but after two weeks we'd still heard nothing. Then one day a lady called in a cab. She said she came from Lady Glyde, who was staying at a hotel and wanted to arrange an interview with Anne. I agreed to go with this lady to make the arrangement, leaving Anne alone in our lodgings. But it was a wicked plot, sir. On the way the lady stopped the cab, saying she just had to collect something from a shop and would I wait for a few minutes. She never came back, sir. I waited for some time, and then I hurried home — and found Anne gone. Just disappeared.'

I asked Mrs Clements to describe this 'lady', and it seemed clear from her description that it was Madame Fosco. So I now knew how the Count had got Anne Catherick to London and separated her from Mrs Clements.

'I never found out what happened to Anne,' Mrs Clements said sadly. 'I made enquiries. I even wrote to her mother, but she didn't know anything. I miss poor Anne so much. She was like a daughter to me, you see, sir.'

'And I'm sure you were a kind mother to her,' I said. 'A better mother than her own mother.'

'That wasn't difficult,' said Mrs Clements. 'Mrs Catherick is a hard woman. She seemed to hate the child, and was only too pleased when I offered to bring her up. Then one day she took Anne to Limmeridge to stay with a sister, and after that she kept Anne from me. I didn't see Anne again till she escaped from the asylum — with your help, sir. And then she was always talking about a secret her mother had which could ruin Sir Percival. But you know, sir, I don't think Anne really knew what this secret was. If she had known, I'm sure she would have told me.'

I had wondered about that myself, and now I tried to turn the conversation on to Mrs Catherick.

'Did you know Mrs Catherick before Anne was born?'

'Yes, for about four months. We were neighbours in Welmingham. Mr and Mrs Catherick had just got married, and Mr Catherick had a job as clerk at Welmingham church. Before that, Mrs Catherick had been a servant at a large house. She was a selfish, heartless woman, and treated her poor husband very badly. Before long, there was a lot of talk about her and a young gentleman, who was staying at a hotel nearby. And Mr Catherick told my husband that he'd found expensive presents, gold rings and suchlike, hidden in his wife's drawer.'

'And who was this gentleman?' I asked.

'You know him, sir. And so did my poor dear Anne.'

'Sir Percival Glyde?' My heart began to beat faster. Was I getting close to the secret?

'That's right. His father had recently died abroad, and Sir Percival had just arrived in the neighbourhood. People thought, you see, that maybe Mrs Catherick had known Sir Percival before, and had married Mr Catherick just to save her reputation, because of, well, you know... Anyway, one night Mr Catherick found his wife whispering with Sir Percival outside the vestry of the church. They had a fight, but Sir Percival beat him and Mr Catherick left the village, never to return again. And in spite of all the talk in the village, Mrs Catherick stayed. She said she was innocent and that no one would drive her away. But most people thought that the money she lived on came from Sir Percival.'

The secret was here somewhere. But where? That Sir Percival was Anne's father was hardly a secret since everyone already thought that. No, there was another mystery somewhere.

'And what did you think, Mrs Clements?'

'Well, sir, if you worked out time and place, it was obvious that Mr Catherick wasn't Anne's father. But Anne wasn't at all like Sir Percival; and nor was she like her mother.'

I wondered about the house where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Perhaps I would make some enquiries later.

'You've been very kind, Mrs Clements,' I said, 'answering all my questions. One last request. Will you tell me Mrs Catherick's address? I have to find out this secret, and only she can tell me.'

Mrs Clements gave me the address, but shook her head. 'Take care, sir. She's an awful woman. You don't know her as I do.'

*  *  *

Back at our rooms I announced my intention to Marian of going to Welmingham. She was very uneasy about the plan.

'Are you sure it's wise, Walter? Sir Percival is a violent man.'

'I'm more afraid for you and Laura,' I said, 'left alone in London, with the Count as your enemy.'

We arranged to write to each other every day; and if no letter came from her, I would take the first train back to London.

*  *  *

Three days later I was standing in Mrs Catherick's sitting room, face to face with a grey-haired woman, dressed in black silk. Her dark eyes looked straight at me with a hard, cold stare.

'You say you have come to speak to me about my daughter,' she said. 'Please say what you have to say.'

Her voice was as hard as the expression in her eyes. She pointed to a chair, and looked at me carefully as I sat down.

'You know,' I said, 'that your daughter is lost?'

'I know that perfectly well.'

'Don't you worry that she might not be just lost, but that she might have met with her death?'

'Yes. Have you come to tell me that she is dead?'

'I have.'

'Why?'

She asked that extraordinary question without the slightest change in her voice, face, or manner. I might have been talking about the death of a cat in the street.

'I thought Anne's mother might be interested in knowing if she was alive or dead.'

'Just so,' she said. 'But what is your interest in her, or in me? Have you no other reason for coming here?'

'Yes, I do,' I said. 'Your daughter's death has caused someone I love to be harmed — by a man called Sir Percival Glyde.'

She did not react at all at the mention of his name.

'I want to make him confess to his crime. You know certain things about him from the time when your husband was the church clerk. I want you to tell me about them.'

At last I saw the anger burning in her eyes.

'What do you know about those events?'

'Everything that Mrs Clements could tell me.'

'Mrs Clements is a foolish woman.' She bit back her anger, and her lips curled in an unpleasant little smile. 'Ah, I begin to understand. You want your revenge on Sir Percival Glyde, and you want my help. That's why you've come here. Well, you don't know me. I've spent years getting back my reputation in this village. Now everyone respects me. I won't help you.'

'If you're afraid of Sir Percival, that's quite understandable,' I said. 'He's a powerful man, and comes from a great family —'

To my amazement, she suddenly burst out laughing.

'From a great family! Yes, indeed! Especially from his mother's side,' she said with disgust.

Whatever did she mean by that, I wondered?

'The secret between you and Sir Percival was not guilty love,' I insisted. 'It was something else that brought you and him to those stolen meetings outside the vestry of the church.'

As I said the words 'vestry of the church', I saw a wave of terror pass across her face.

'Go!' she said. 'And never come back. Unless' — and she gave a slow, cruel smile — 'unless you bring news of his death.'

*  *  *

It was now late, and I made my way to the nearest hotel. There was much to think about. Why should mention of the church vestry cause terror? Why the disgust at Sir Percival's family, especially his mother? Was there something unusual about his parents' marriage? Perhaps the local marriage register was kept in the vestry of Welmingham church...

The next day I went to the church. I had been aware of being followed the previous evening, and now I caught sight of the same two men I had seen outside Mr Kyrle's office in London. It seemed that Sir Percival had expected me to visit Mrs Catherick, and was now expecting me to visit Welmingham church — proof, surely, that my investigation was going in the right direction.

I found the church clerk, who fetched his keys and took me to the vestry. It could only be entered from the outside of the church, and the clerk had great difficulty opening the lock, which was very old. Once inside, I asked to see the marriage register. It was kept in a cupboard which could easily be forced open.

'Is that a safe enough place to keep the register?' I said.

'Safe enough,' the clerk said. 'A copy is kept by a lawyer in the next village — Mr Wansborough's office in Knowlesbury.'

I worked backwards in the register from Sir Percival's year of birth and there, under September of the previous year, squashed into a small space at the bottom of the page, was the record of the marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster of Knowlesbury. Just the usual information. Nothing apparently peculiar about Sir Percival's mother. The secret seemed further away than ever.

But on to Knowlesbury, and Mr Wansborough's office — a five-mile walk, but possible to get there and back by the end of the day. It was worth checking the copy of the register, and perhaps the lawyer would know something that might be useful.


pursue v. continue to investigate 继续调查

lodgings n. rooms rented for lodging in 租用的房子

bring up raise 抚养

heartless adj. unfeeling, pitiless 无情的

vestry n. a room or building attached to a church for keeping vestments in 教堂的法衣室

react v. undergo a change or show behaviour due to some influence 反应

bite back restrain 克制

burst out suddenly begin 突然做……

disgust n. strong aversion 不屑

make one's way to go to 到……去

catch sight of see, find 看到

11.调查

下面是我在汉普郡初步调查的情况。布莱克沃特村没有一个人记得珀西瓦尔爵士离开的确切时间。园丁也仅仅记得大概是7月下旬。

“那么,开始下一步行动吧,”回到伦敦我对玛丽安说,“查出那个秘密来。我需要找到安妮·凯瑟里克的母亲,但我必须首先找到安妮的朋友克莱门茨太太,从她那里了解一些情况。可怎么才能找到克莱门茨太太?”

玛丽安想出了办法:“还记得克莱门茨太太和安妮在利默里奇附近住过的农场吗?我们给他们写信,也许他们知道克莱门茨太太的地址。”

我们很幸运,农场主的妻子真的知道地址,她回信告诉了我们。她就住在伦敦,离我们住的地方不远。第二天上午,我就找到了那个地方,敲响了房门。

克莱门茨太太急切地想知道我是否带来了安妮的消息,当我告诉她没有的时候,她非常难过。不过,她愿意把她知道的一切都告诉我。

“离开利默里奇以后,先生,”她对我说,“安妮和我去了英国东北部,这个时候安妮得了心脏病。她身体很不好,但她坚持到汉普郡去见格莱德夫人。所以我们就去了那儿,住在布莱克沃特附近的一个村子里——那地方离布莱克沃特不是很近,因为安妮非常害怕珀西瓦尔爵士。

“每一次安妮到湖边去见格莱德夫人,我都在远处跟着她。但是走那么远的路让她非常疲劳,结果她又病了。最后我代替她到湖边去见格莱德夫人。那天格莱德夫人没有来,来的是一个很胖的男人,他捎来了格莱德夫人的口信,让我们赶快回伦敦,因为如果在这里呆久了,珀西瓦尔爵士肯定会发现我们。格莱德夫人自己很快也会到伦敦去,如果我们把地址给她,她会跟我们联系。”

“但是她没跟你们联系,对吗?”我问,心想伯爵对这个善良的女人说的谎真是高明啊。

“没错,先生。我找到了住处,把地址寄给了格莱德夫人,可是两个星期过去了,我们没收到任何回音。后来,有一天一位夫人乘马车到这里来。她说她从格莱德夫人那儿来,格莱德夫人住在一家旅店,想安排同安妮见面。我答应同那位夫人去安排见面的事,把安妮一个人留在住处。可这是个恶毒的阴谋,先生。走到半路,那位夫人说要去商店取点儿东西,让我等几分钟。她去了就再没回来,先生。我等了好一阵子,然后赶忙回家——回来后却发现安妮不见了。就这么消失了。”

我让克莱门茨太太描述一下那位“夫人”的样子,根据她的描述,那人很显然是福斯科夫人。现在我明白伯爵是怎么把安妮·凯瑟里克弄到伦敦,又怎么把她和克莱门茨太太分开的了。

“我不知道安妮到底出了什么事,”克莱门茨太太伤心地说,“我调查过,甚至给她母亲写过信,但是她什么也不知道。我现在非常想念可怜的安妮。你知道,她就像我的女儿一样,先生。”

“我相信你是她的好母亲,”我说,“比她的亲生母亲还要亲。”

“那倒没什么难的,”克莱门茨太太说,“凯瑟里克太太是一个铁石心肠的女人。她好像仇视这个孩子,我提出抚养这孩子时,她非常高兴。后来有一天她把安妮带到利默里奇同她的妹妹住在一起。再后来,她就不让我见安妮了。安妮从精神病院逃出来之前,我就再没见到过她。她逃出来还是你帮的忙呢,先生。从那以后,她—直说她母亲知道一个秘密,那秘密会毁了珀西瓦尔爵士。但是,先生,我觉得安妮并不真的知道那个秘密。如果她真的知道,我相信她早就告诉我了。”

我自己也想过这个问题。但是,现在我努力把话题转向凯瑟里克太太。

“安妮出生前,你就认识凯瑟里克太太吗?”

“认识,大概有四个月的时间。我们在韦明翰是邻居。当时凯瑟里克夫妇刚刚结婚,凯瑟里克先生在韦明翰教堂当职员。结婚前,凯瑟里克太太在一个大户人家当仆人。她是一个自私、狠心的女人,对她可怜的丈夫非常不好。不久,关于她和住在附近旅店的一个年轻人有了很多风言风语。凯瑟里克先生对我丈夫说,他发现他妻子的抽屉里藏着许多贵重礼物,金戒指什么的。”

“那个年轻人是谁?”我问。

“你认识他,先生。我可怜的安妮也认识他。”

“珀西瓦尔爵士?”我的心跳开始加速。我是不是接近那个秘密了?

“就是他。他父亲那时在国外去世,珀西瓦尔爵士刚刚到这里来。大家都说很可能凯瑟里克太太早就认识珀西瓦尔爵士,她和凯瑟里克先生结婚就是想挽救自己的名声,因为,嗯,你知道……不管怎样,一天晚上,凯瑟里克先生看到他妻子和珀西瓦尔爵士在教堂的法衣室外窃窃私语。他们打了起来。珀西瓦尔爵士打了他。之后,凯瑟里克先生就离开了那个村子,再也没回来。尽管村子里流言满天飞,凯瑟里克太太还是一直住在那里。”她说自己是清白的,谁也赶不走她。不过大多数人都认为她是靠珀西瓦尔爵士的钱维持生活的。”

秘密就在这里。可是到底是什么呢?珀西瓦尔爵士是安妮的父亲,这已经不是什么秘密了,大家早就这么想了。不对,这里一定还有隐情。

“那你怎么看,克莱门茨太太?”

“嗯,如果从时间和地点来看,很明显凯瑟里克先生不是安妮的父亲。但是,安妮一点儿也不像珀西瓦尔爵士,也不像她母亲。”

我想到凯瑟里克太太当仆人的那家,也许什么时候我可以到那儿调查一下。

“真是太谢谢了,克莱门茨太太,”我说,“你回答了我那么多问题。最后我还有个请求,你能告诉我凯瑟里克太太的地址吗?我必须查清楚这个秘密,只有她可以告诉我。”

克莱门茨太太把地址给了我,但是摇了摇头,“你要小心,先生。她是一个很可怕的女人,你没有我了解她。”

*  *  *

回到住处,我把要去韦明翰的想法告诉了玛丽安,她非常担优。

“你觉得这样好吗,沃尔特?珀西瓦尔爵士是个心狠手辣的人。”

“我更担心的是你和劳拉,”我说,“就你们两个留在伦敦,还要对付伯爵。”

我们商量好每天都互相写信,如果没有收到玛丽安的来信,我就搭乘最早的一班火车回伦敦来。

*  *  *

三天后,我已经站在凯瑟里克太太的客厅里了。我面前是一个头发灰白的女人,穿着黑色绸衣。她的一双黑眼睛冷冷地盯着我。

“你说你来跟我谈我女儿的事,”她开口说,“有什么话就请讲吧。”

她的声音像她的眼神一样冷。她指了指一把椅子,我坐下以后,她开始仔细地打量我。

“你知道,”我说,“你女儿失踪了吗?”

“我非常清楚。”

“难道你不担心她可能不光是失踪了,有可能她已经死了?”

“我想过。那你是来告诉我,她已经死了?”

“是的。”

“为什么?”

提出这样荒谬的问题,她的声音、表情和举止居然没有任何变化,就好像我刚才谈的是街上死了一只猫。

“我原以为安妮的母亲会关心她的生死。”

“就为了这个啊,”她说,“但是你为什么对她或我感兴趣呢?你到这里来没有其他原因?”

“有,”我回答,“你女儿的死使我所爱的人受到了伤害——是一个叫珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士的人干的。”

我提到了珀西瓦尔的名字,她一点儿反应都没有。

“我要让他承认他所犯下的罪行,你丈夫在教堂当职员的时候,你就知道了他的一些事,我希望你把所知道的告诉我。”

我终于在她眼里看到了愤怒的目光。

“你是怎么知道这些事的?”

“克莱门茨太太把她知道的都告诉我了。”

“克莱门茨太太是个愚蠢的女人。”她压下怒火,双唇勾起一丝恶意的微笑。“呵,我开始懂了。要向珀西瓦尔爵士报仇,需要帮忙。这就是你来这里的原因。你不了解我。我在这个村子住了这么多年,才挽回我的名誉。现在大家都很尊敬我,我不会帮你的。”

“如果你害怕珀西瓦尔爵士,那是可以理解的,”我说,“他是个有权势的人,出身名门——”

令我吃惊的是,她突然大笑起来。

“出身名门!是,没错!尤其是他母亲那一边。”她不屑地说。

她这话是什么意思?我不明白。

“你和他之间的秘密不是什么婚外情,”我接着说,“是别的事情使得你们在教堂的法衣室外秘密见面。”

在提到“教堂的法衣室”时,我注意到她的脸上掠过一阵恐惧。

“滚出去!”她大声喊着,“再也不要回来。除非”——她脸上慢慢露出残忍的笑意——“除非你来告诉我他死了。”

*  *  *

天色已晚,我朝最近的旅店走去。有许多问题需要思考。为什么提到教堂的法衣室她就害怕了?为什么她瞧不起珀西瓦尔爵士的家庭,特别是他的母亲?难道他父母的婚姻有什么特别的地方?也许当地的婚姻登记记录就存放在韦明翰教堂的法衣室……

第二天我去了教堂。我已经注意到前一天晚上有人跟踪我,这会儿我又看到在伦敦克尔先生办公室外见到的那两个人在跟着我。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士已经料到我要来见凯瑟里克太太,现在又料到我来韦明翰教堂——这些恰好证明我的调查方向是正确的。

我找到了教堂职员,他找来钥匙,带我来到教堂的法衣室。法衣室只能从教堂外面进去,职员费了好大劲儿才打开那把旧锁。进去以后,我说要看看婚姻登记记录。那些记录放在一个柜子里,柜子的门很容易被撬开。

“婚姻登记记录放在这里安全吗?”我问。

“很安全,”职员回答,“另一个副本存放在邻村的律师那里,就是万斯伯勒先生的办公室,在诺雷斯伯里。”

我从珀西瓦尔爵士出生那年的记录开始往前面查,在前一年的9月,有一页在靠下的角落里记着费利克斯·格莱德爵士和诺雷斯伯里的塞西莉亚结婚。只是非常一般的记录,看不出珀西瓦尔爵士的母亲有什么特殊的地方。秘密好像比以前离我更远了。

接下来,我奔赴诺雷斯伯里万斯伯勒先生的办公室——大约有5英里的路程,但是在天黑前赶回来还是可能的。很有必要查看一下记录的副本,也许律师会知道一些有用的信息。

12
The secret

Sir Percival's spies attacked me on the road to Knowlesbury. One of them came up beside me, and bumped into me with his shoulder. I pushed him away, hard, and he immediately shouted for help. The other man ran up and the two of them held me between them. The first man accused me of attacking him, and they said they would take me to the police station in the town.

What could I do? I couldn't fight both of them and hope to get away, so I had to go with them.

At the police station the first man accused me of a violent attack, and the second man said he was a witness. I was locked up until the next magistrate's court, which was three days away. I could be released on bail, I was told, but how could I, a total stranger in the town, find a responsible person willing to pay money for my temporary freedom? The whole plan was now clear — to get me out of the way for three days, while Sir Percival did whatever was necessary to prevent his secret being discovered.

At first I was too angry to think clearly. Then I remembered Mr Dawson, the doctor. I had been to his house on my previous visit to Blackwater, so I knew his address. I wrote him a letter, explaining what had happened and begging for his help, and then asked for a messenger to deliver it. Two hours later the good doctor appeared, paid the required money and I was set free.

There was no time to lose. The news of my being free would doubtless reach Sir Percival within hours. I hurried to the lawyer's office, where I asked if I could see the copy of the Welmingham marriage register. Mr Wansborough was a pleasant man and agreed to show me the copy. In fact, he was quite amused. No one had asked to see it since his father (now dead) had locked it away in the office more than twenty years before.

As I opened the register, my hands trembled. I turned the pages to the year and month. I found the names I remembered just before, and just after, the marriage of Sir Percival's parents. And between these entries, at the bottom of the page...?

Nothing! The marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster was not there! I looked again, to be sure. No, nothing. Not a doubt about it. Sir Percival must have seen the space in the Welmingham register and written in the marriage himself.

I had never once suspected this. He was not Sir Percival Glyde at all! His parents had not been married, so he had no right to the inheritance of Blackwater Park, no right to the rank of Baronet, no right even to the name of Glyde! This was his secret — and it was now mine to use against him!

The copy of the register would be safe enough in the lawyer's office, but I decided to go back to Welmingham and make a copy of the false record from the church register. It was dark now and I ran all the way to the church clerk's house. I knocked on his door, but when he appeared, he looked suspicious and confused.

'Where are the keys?' he asked. 'Have you taken them?'

'What keys do you mean?' I said. 'I've just this minute arrived from Knowlesbury.'

'The keys of the vestry,' he said. 'The keys are gone! Someone's broken in and taken the keys.'

'Get a light,' I said, 'and let's go to the vestry. Quick!'

We ran to the church. On the path we passed a man who looked at us with frightened eyes. He seemed to be a servant of some kind. We did not stop to question him, but ran on.

As we came in sight of the vestry, I saw a high window brilliantly lit from within. There was a strange smell on the night air, a sound of cracking wood, and the light grew brighter and brighter. I ran to the door and put my hand on it. The vestry was on fire!

I heard the key working violently in the lock — I heard a man's voice behind the door, raised in terror, screaming for help.

'Oh, my God!' said the servant, who had followed us, 'it's Sir Percival!'

'God help him!' said the clerk. 'He's damaged the lock.'

*  *  *

At that moment I forget the man's crimes and see only the horror of his situation. Several people are now running towards the church and I call to them to help me break down the door. We look desperately for something to use, and at last someone finds a long heavy piece of wood.

By now the flames are shooting up out of the window, and the screams have stopped. We get the wood into position and run at the door with it. Again, and again! At last the door crashes down, but a wave of heat hits our faces and drives us back — and in the room we see nothing but a sheet of living fire.

*  *  *

The church itself was saved as the fire engine arrived soon afterwards and managed to put out the fire before it spread. They carried out the body of Sir Percival Glyde and laid it on the wet ground. I looked down on his dead face and this was how, for the first and last time, I saw him.

He must have heard that I was free and on my way back to Welmingham, so he hurried to the church, stealing the keys and locking himself in to prevent anyone coming in and finding him. All he could do was tear the page out of the register and destroy it. If the false record no longer existed, I could produce no evidence to threaten him with. He must have dropped his lamp by accident, which started the fire. Then in his urgency to get out, the lock had become damaged and the key unmoveable.

I could not leave the town. There would be a legal enquiry into the accident the next day, which I had to attend, and in any case I had to report back to the police station in Knowlesbury. I returned to the hotel and wrote to Marian, telling her everything that had happened and warning her to keep the news from Laura for the moment. With Sir Percival's death, my hopes of establishing Laura's identity had also died, and I could see no way forward at present.

The next day an envelope with my name on was delivered to the hotel. The letter inside was neither dated nor signed, but before I had read the first sentence, I knew who had written it — Mrs Catherick.


Sir — I thought you were my enemy. Now that he is dead, because of you, I consider you my friend. To thank you for what you have done, I will now tell you the things you wanted to know about my private life.

Twenty-three years ago I was a beautiful young woman living in Welmingham, married to a fool of a husband. I also knew a gentleman — I shall not call him by his name. Why should I? It was not his own. I was born with expensive tastes. This man gave me expensive presents. Naturally he wanted something in return — all men do. And what did he want? Just a little thing. The key to the church vestry, when my husband's back was turned. I liked my presents, so I got him the key. I watched him in the vestry without his knowing, and saw what he was doing. I did not know then how serious a crime it was. I said I would not tell anyone about the marriage he had added to the register if he told me about his private life. He agreed — why, you will see in a moment.

He said that he only found out that his parents were not married after his mother's death. His father confessed to it and promised to do what he could for his son. But he died having done nothing. The son came to England and took possession of the property. There was no one to say he could not. In fact, the right person to claim the property was a distant relation away at sea. However, to borrow money on the property, he needed a certificate of his parents' marriage. This was a problem — a problem which brought him to Welmingham.

As his parents had mostly lived abroad and had had no social life in England, who was to say (the priest being dead) that a private marriage had not taken place at Welmingham church? His plan was to tear out a page from the marriage register in the year before his birth and destroy it. Then he would tell his lawyers in London to get the necessary certificate, innocently referring them to the date on the page that was gone. At least no one could say that his parents were not married.

However, when he saw there was a small space at the bottom of the page in the right year, he changed his plan and took the opportunity to write in the marriage himself. It took him some time, though, to practise the handwriting and to mix the right colour of ink, so that it looked the same.

After my husband caught me talking secretly to him and after their fight together, I asked my fine gentleman to clear my name and to say there had been nothing between us. But he refused. He wanted everyone to believe something false, so that they would never suspect the truth. He then told me that the punishment for his crime, and anyone who helped him, was life in prison. He frightened me! If I spoke out, I was just as lost as he was. He then agreed to make me a yearly payment if I said nothing and stayed in Welmingham, where he could always find me and where there was no danger of my making friends and talking. This was hard, but I accepted.

Many years later, when my daughter was with me at home, I received a letter from him which made me very angry. I lost control of myself and said, in her presence, that 'I could destroy him if I let out his secret'. Then one day he came to our house and called her a fool. Immediately she shouted, 'Ask for my pardon, now, or I'll let out your secret and destroy your life. 'My own words! He went white. Then he swore at us. It ended, as you know, by his shutting her up in an asylum. I tried to tell him she knew nothing. But he did not believe me. My daughter knew that she had frightened him and that he was responsible for shutting her up because he believed she knew his secret. That's why she hated him. But she never to her dying day knew what his secret actually was.

I will end by saying that you insult me if you think my husband was not my daughter's father. Please do not ask further questions about that. To protect myself, I mention no names in this letter, nor do I sign it.


magistrate n. an official conducting a court for minor cases 法官

bail n. money left with a court of law to prove that a prisoner will return when their trial starts 保释金

entry n. an item 条目

brilliantly adv. very brightly 非常亮

produce v. bring forward for consideration or inspection 拿出

12.秘密

在去往诺雷斯伯里的路上,珀西瓦尔爵士的人向我发起了攻击。其中一个走到我旁边,用肩膀撞我。我用力把他推开,他马上大喊起来。另一个人跑过来,他们两个把我夹在了中间。第一个人指责我打他,他们说要把我带到镇上的警察局去。

我能怎么办呢?我没办法打倒他们两个再逃走,现在只得跟他们走了。

到了警察局,第一个人说我打他,另一个人说他是证人。我被关了起来,等着三天后法官开庭审理。他们告诉我可以保释,可是我在这里一个人也不认识,怎么可能找到一个愿意负责的人出钱让我获得暂时的自由呢?他们的整个计划很清楚——让我消失三天,珀西瓦尔爵士就利用这段时间尽一切可能保证他的秘密不被发现。

刚开始,我非常气愤,头脑中一片混乱。后来我想起了道森先生,那位医生。上一次我去布莱克沃特的时候到过他家,所以我知道他的地址。我给他写了封信,告诉他出了什么事,请求他来帮我,然后找了一个送信的帮我把信送走。两个小时后,好心的医生来了,为我交了保释金,我自由了。

必须抓紧时间,因为我被释放的消息肯定几个小时之内就会传到珀西瓦尔爵士那里。我赶到律师的办公室,请求看一下韦明翰的结婚登记记录。万斯伯勒先生是个和气的人,他同意让我看副本。其实,应该说他很高兴,因为自从他父亲(现在已经去世了)20多年前把文件锁在办公室后,从未有人要求查看过。

我翻开记录副本的时候双手在颤抖。我找到了珀西瓦尔爵士父母结婚的年份和月份,以及在他们之前和之后结婚的男女方姓名记录。但是,在这些条目之间,在那一页的底下……?

什么也没有!费利克斯·格莱德爵士和塞西莉亚·埃尔斯特的婚姻根本就没有记录!为了保险起见,我又看了一遍。没有,什么也没有,毫无疑问。珀西瓦尔爵士可能在韦明翰的记录中看到了那个空白,然后自己填上了那条记录。

我从未怀疑到这一点。他根本就不是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士,他的父母没有结婚,他根本没有权利继承布莱克沃特庄园和爵位,甚至根本无权姓格莱德!这就是他的秘密——现在我要利用这个秘密来对付他!

婚姻登记的副本放在律师的办公室很安全,我决定返回韦明翰,复制一份教堂的假记录。天已经黑了,我一路跑到教堂职员的住处。我敲了门,职员出来的时候,脸上布满了疑虑。

“钥匙在哪儿?”他问我,“你把钥匙拿走了吗?”

“什么钥匙?”我说,“我刚从诺雷斯伯里过来。”

“法衣室的钥匙,”他说,“钥匙不见了!有人进来偷走了钥匙。”

“拿上灯,”我说,“我们去法衣室,快!”

我们向教堂跑去。路上碰见一个人,似乎是个仆人,他惊慌地看了看我们。我们没有停下来问他任何问题,而是继续向前跑。

当我们看到法衣室的时候,我发现从一个高处的窗户里发出很亮的光,夜晚的空气中有一股奇怪的味道,可以听到木头劈啪作响的声音,那光变得越来越亮。我跑到法衣室的门口,用手摸了摸门。法衣室起火了!

我听到钥匙在锁里使劲转动的声音——我听到门后有人害怕地高声喊救命。

“噢,上帝!”跟着我们跑过来的仆人说,“是珀西瓦尔爵士!”

“上帝啊,救救他!”职员说,“他把锁弄坏了。”

alt

*  *  *

这个时候,我忘记了这个人的罪恶,只想到他现在的危急处境。有几个人正朝教堂跑过来,我叫他们帮我把门弄开。我们到处找能弄开门的东西,最后有人找来一根很粗的长木头。

这时,火焰已经窜出了窗户,呼叫声已听不见了。我们抬着长木头,一次又一次朝门撞过去。最后门被撞倒了,热浪从屋里冲出来,使我们不得不往后退去——屋里除了一团火什么也看不见。

*  *  *

救火车很快赶到,没等火势蔓延就把火扑灭了,教堂本身没有受到破坏。人们把珀西瓦尔爵士的尸体抬了出来,放在潮湿的地上。我看了看他的脸,这是我第一次也是最后一次看到他。

他一定是听说我被放出来,而且正赶回韦明翰,所以急忙赶到教堂,偷了钥匙,把自己锁在屋子里,不让任何人进去发现他。他唯一能做的就是把那一页从登记簿上撕下来销毁。如果假记录没有了,我就拿不出证据来威胁他。他可能不小心把灯掉到地上,引起了大火。然后,他急着要出来,匆忙中弄坏了锁,钥匙转不动了。

我现在还不能离开这里。转天会有一个事故的法律调查,我必须参加。而且不管怎样,我还得向诺雷斯伯里的警察局报到。我回到旅店,写信给玛丽安,告诉她这里发生的事情,提醒她先不要把这个消息告诉劳拉。珀西瓦尔爵士死了,我证明劳拉身份的希望也不复存在,现在我不知下一步该怎么办。

第二天,一个写着我名字的信封被送到了旅店。里面的信既没有日期,也没有署名。但是还没看完第一句,我就知道是谁写的信了——凯瑟里克太太。

先生——我原以为你是我的敌人。现在因为你,他已经死了,我认为你是我的朋友。为感谢你的所作所为,我现在把你想知道的我的私事告诉你。

23年前,我是一个年轻漂亮的姑娘,住在韦明翰,嫁给了一位傻乎乎的丈夫。我还结识了一位绅士——我不会称呼他的名字。为什么要那样叫他?那不是他的名字。我生来就喜欢贵重的东西,这个人送给我许多贵重礼物,当然他是需要回报的——男人都是这样。这个男人要的是什么?很简单的一样东西。教堂法衣室的钥匙,当然要趁我丈夫不在的时候。我喜欢那些礼物,所以给他弄到了钥匙。我盯着他,看他在法衣室干什么,他并没发觉。当时我不知道那是多么严重的罪行。我跟他说,要是他告诉我他的私事,我不会告诉任何人他擅自增加结婚记录的事。他答应了——至于为什么,你往下看就明白了。

他说在他母亲死后,他才知道他的父母并没有结婚。他父亲承认了这件事,答应尽力为他儿子做些什么。可是他什么都没来得及做,就死去了。他的儿子来到英国继承了遗产。没人说他不能继承,实际上,真正应该继承遗产的是一个正在出海的远亲。然而,要想用那笔财产去借钱,他需要一份父母的结婚证明。这是个问题,为解决这个问题,他来到了韦明翰。

因为他父母大部分时间生活在国外,在英国没什么交际,所以谁会说(牧师已经死了)韦明翰教堂没举行过一场私下的婚礼呢?他的计划是把他出生前那一年的婚姻登记页撕下来销毁。然后,他就会告诉伦敦的律师们去取必要的证明文件,并假装不知情地把那个已经不存在的登记页上的日期告诉他们。至少谁也不会说他父母没结婚。

但是,他发现那年的登记页上靠下面有一点空白,于是改变了主意,趁机把他父母的婚姻写了进去。当然,他也颇费了些时间去模仿登记用的笔迹,还有配制合适的墨水颜色,让这条记录看起来跟其他的没有差别。

我丈夫看到我和他密谈,他们两个打了一架以后,我叫他帮我洗清名声,告诉别人我们之间什么也没发生,但是他拒绝了。他希望大家都相信并没有发生的事情,这样一来,人们就不会去想真相如何了。他还跟我说如果他的罪行败露,他以及帮过他的人都将被终生监禁。他让我害怕极了!如果我说出他的秘密,那我和他都完了。他答应每年支付我一笔钱,条件是我保持沉默,继续住在韦明翰,让他随时可以找到我,也免得我与人交朋友,然后乱讲话。虽说条件很苛刻,我还是答应了。

很多年以后,那时我女儿同我在一起,我收到他的一封信把我惹恼了。我无法控制自己,当着女儿的面说:“我把他的秘密说出去就能毁了他。”后来有一天,他来我家,管我女儿叫傻瓜,她一下子喊了起来:“赶快请求我原谅你,不然我就把你的秘密说出去,毁了你。”完全是我说过的话!他的脸一下子变白了。他向我们破口大骂。最后,你知道,他把她关进了精神病院。我试图告诉他,她什么也不知道。可是他不相信我。我女儿明白她使他害怕了,是他把她关进了精神病院,因为他认为她知道了他的秘密。这就是为什么她那么恨他。但是,她其实到死也不知道那秘密到底是什么。

最后我要说的是,如果你认为我丈夫不是我女儿的父亲,你就是污辱我。请不要多问了。为了保护我自己,信中没有提到任何名字,我也不会署名。

13
The threat

Mrs Catherick's extraordinary and shameless letter filled me with disgust. My interest in Sir Percival Glyde's crime was now at an end, but I decided to keep the letter in case it might help me find out who Anne's father really was.

Later in the morning I went to the legal enquiry into Sir Percival's death. I was only asked to say what had happened. I was not asked how I thought the keys had been taken, how the fire had been caused, or why Sir Percival had gone into the vestry. As no one could explain any of these things, the verdict at the end of the enquiry was 'death by accident'.

Afterwards, a gentleman who was also at the enquiry walked back to the hotel with me. He had heard from Sir Percival's lawyer that a distant relation abroad would now inherit Blackwater Park. This was obviously the person who should have inherited it twenty-three years before. If I made Sir Percival's crime public, it would be to no one's advantage now. If I kept the secret, the true character of the man who had cheated Laura into marrying him would remain hidden. And for her sake, I wished to keep it hidden.

I still could not leave Hampshire, as I had to report to the police station in Knowlesbury the next day. I spent another night at the hotel and in the morning went to the post office to collect the letter from Marian. As promised, we had written to each other every day, and Marian's letters had been full of cheerful news. This morning's letter was short, and terrified me.


Come back as soon as you can. We have had to move. Come to Gower's Walk, Fulham (number five). I will look out for you. Don't be alarmed about us, we are both safe and well. But come back. — Marian


What had happened? What dreadful thing had Count Fosco done while I was away? In spite of my anxiety, I had to wait. I paid my bill at the hotel and took a cab to Knowlesbury.

At the police station, as I expected, no one appeared to continue the action against me and I was allowed to go. Half an hour later I was on the train back to London.

I got to Gower's Walk in Fulham at about nine o'clock. Both Laura and Marian came to the door to let me in. Laura was much brighter and happier, full of plans for the future and for her drawing and painting. Marian's face was tired and anxious. I could see that she had spared Laura the knowledge of the terrible death in Welmingham and the true reason for moving to new lodgings. When Laura had left us and we could speak freely, I tried to give some expression to my feelings and told Marian how much I admired her for the courage and love she had shown.

She was too generous to listen to me, and turned the conversation to my worries.

'I'm so sorry for my letter — it must have alarmed you.'

'Yes, it did,' I admitted. 'Was I right in thinking that you moved because of a threat by Count Fosco?'

'Perfectly right,' she said. 'I saw him yesterday, and worse than that, Walter — I spoke to him.'

'Spoke to him? Did he come to the house?'

'He did. Yesterday, when I was passing the window, I saw him in the street. Then there was a knock on the door. I rushed out and there he was, dressed in black, with his smooth face and his deadly smile. I closed the door behind me so that Laura would not see or hear him.'

'What did he say?' I asked anxiously.

'He greeted me, then repeated the warning in his letter to me. He said he had not been able to prevent Sir Percival's violence towards you, and he had found out our address in order to protect his own interests. You were followed, Walter, on your return home after your first journey to Hampshire. He used this information only when he heard of Sir Percival's death, because he believed you would act against him next.'

'And he was right,' I said. 'What did he say about me?'

'He was very cool, very polite, and very threatening,' said Marian. 'He said, "Warn Mr Hartright! He has an intelligent and powerful man to deal with. Let him be content with what he has got. Say to him, if he attacks me, I will use all my power to destroy him. There is nothing I will not do. Dear lady, good morning." Then he just looked at me with his cold grey eyes, and walked away.

'I ran back inside, and told Laura we had to move. We needed a quieter neighbourhood with better air for the sake of her health. I said you'd wanted us to do that, and why didn't we do it now to surprise you when you got back. She liked that idea, and was quite happy to move. I found these lodgings through an old school friend. I did the right thing, didn't I, Walter?'

I answered her warmly and gratefully, as I really felt.

But the anxious look remained on her face, and I saw in her eyes her continuing fear of the Count's cleverness and energy.

'What do you think of his message, Walter? What do you plan to do next?'

'I decided weeks ago that Laura will be received in her uncle's house again,' I answered. 'And my decision remains the same. Count Fosco will answer for his crime to ME.'

Marian's eyes lit up. She said nothing, but I could see how strongly she supported this plan.

'I know the risks are great,' I said, 'but it must be done. I'm not foolish enough to try this before I'm well prepared. I can wait. Let him think his message has produced its effect. He will start to feel safe. Also, my position towards you and Laura ought to be a stronger one than it is now.'

'How can it be stronger?' she asked, surprised.

'Marian, I would like you to say to Laura, gently, that her husband is dead.'

'Oh, Walter, so soon? You have a reason for this, don't you?'

'Yes. I cannot speak to Laura yet. But one day, not too distant, I want to tell her that I love her.'

Marian looked at me for a time, then gave a sad, gentle smile. 'Yes, I understand. I think I owe it to her and to you, Walter, to tell her of her husband's death.'

The next day Laura knew that death had released her from her marriage, and her husband's name was never mentioned among us again.

*  *  *

Our life returned to its usual pattern, but I did not forget the Count. I discovered that he had rented his house in St John's Wood for another six months, so I was fairly sure he would still be in London, within my reach, when the time came to act.

We finally solved the puzzle of who Anne Catherick's father was. When I went again to see Mrs Clements and to tell her about Anne's death, she remembered where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Her employer had been a Mr Donthorne.

We wrote to Mr Donthorne, who replied with some very interesting information. Philip Fairlie, Laura's father, had been a great friend of his when they were young, and a frequent house guest. He was a handsome man and fond of female company. Mr Donthorne was fairly certain that Philip Fairlie had been staying at his house when Mrs Catherick was employed as a servant, in the year before Anne was born.

When Marian and I checked the dates; when we considered that Anne and Laura looked so alike; and when we took into account the fact that Laura looked very much like her father, we were in no doubt that here was the solution. Philip Fairlie was Anne's father, and so Anne was Laura's half-sister.

Now, at last, the woman in white, that strange sad shadow walking in the loneliness of the night, could rest in peace.

*  *  *

Four months passed. Laura grew stronger in body and in mind. She was almost her old self, and when we talked, it was as we used to talk at Limmeridge. If I touched her by accident, I felt my heart beating fast, and I saw the answering colour in her face.

In April, we went for a holiday at the seaside. While we were there I told Marian that when we returned to London, I was determined to force a confession from Count Fosco — to make him tell me the real date of Laura's journey to London.

'But if I am to challenge the Count, for Laura's safety, I think I should challenge him as her husband. Do you agree, Marian?'

'With every word,' she said. 'I parted you both once. Wait here, my brother, my best and dearest friend! Till Laura comes, and tells you what I have done now!'

She kissed my forehead and left the room. I waited by the window, staring out at the beach, seeing nothing, hardly able to breathe. The door opened, and Laura came in alone. When we parted at Limmeridge, she had come into the room slowly, in sorrow and hesitation. Now she ran to me, with the light of happiness shining in her face. She put her arms around me, and her sweet lips came to meet mine.

'My darling!' she whispered, 'May we say we love each other now? Oh, I am so happy at last!'

Ten days later we were even happier. We were married.


verdict n. a decision; a judgment 结论

spare somebody the knowledge of keeping somebody from knowing 不让某人知道……

deadly adj. horrible 可怕的

answer for be responsible 受到惩罚

fairly adv. to a noticeable degree 相当地

13.威胁

凯瑟里克太太奇怪而又不知羞耻的来信使我对她充满了鄙夷。现在,我对珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行已经没有兴趣了,但我还是决定留着这封信,也许它会帮我找出安妮的父亲究竟是谁。

上午晚些时候,我去参加珀西瓦尔爵士死亡的法律调查。他们只让我说说发生了什么,没有问我如何看待钥匙为什么会被拿走,火灾是怎么发生的,或者为什么珀西瓦尔爵士会进到法衣室去。没有人能够解释这些问题,所以调查的最终结论是“意外死亡”。

之后,一位也参加了调查的男子和我一起走回旅店。他从珀西瓦尔爵士的律师那里得知,一个国外的远亲现在要来继承布莱克沃特庄园。很明显,这就是23年前应该继承庄园的那个人。假如我把珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行公之于众,现在对谁都没有好处。假如我不把秘密说出去,这个欺骗劳拉与之结婚的人的真正人品就不会有人知道。但为了劳拉,我愿意保守这个秘密。

我还不能离开汉普郡,因为转天还要去诺雷斯伯里警察局。我在旅店又住了一晚。第二天一早,我去邮局取玛丽安的来信。我们按约定每天通信。玛丽安的来信一直都是好消息。今天早上的来信很短,但却令我害怕。


请尽快回来。我们不得不搬了家。到富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街(5号)来找我们。我也会留意等你。不必为我们担心,我们很安全。一定快回来。玛丽安


出了什么事?我不在的时候,福斯科伯爵又做了什么坏事?尽管非常担心,我还是得等。我付清了旅店的费用,叫了辆马车直奔诺雷斯伯里。

在警察局,不出我所料,没人来继续同我纠缠,我可以走了。半个小时后,我登上了返回伦敦的火车。

大约9点钟,我赶到了富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街。劳拉和玛丽安都到门口迎接我。劳拉的脸色比以前好多了,人也高兴多了,对将来和她的绘画有很多想法。玛丽安的脸上带着倦容和忧虑。看得出她没有把珀西瓦尔死在韦明翰的可怕消息和搬到新住处的真实原因告诉劳拉。劳拉走开以后,我们可以随便谈话了。我想告诉她我非常敬佩她的勇气和她对劳拉表现出的爱。

这位慷慨的姑娘没等我说完就把话题转到我的担忧上来了。

alt

“给你写那样的信,真是对不起——你一定很为我们担心吧。”

“是的,我的确很担心,”我说,“我猜你们搬家是由于福斯科伯爵的威胁,对吗?”

“一点儿不错,”她回答,“我昨天看见他了,更糟糕的是,沃尔特——我跟他说话了。”

“跟他说话了?他去你们的住处了?”

“是的。昨天,我从窗旁走过的时候,看见他在街上。过了一会儿,有人敲门。我马上跑过去开门,就是他,穿一身黑色衣服,光滑的脸上带着吓人的微笑。我关上了身后的门,这样劳拉就看不见他,也听不见他说话了。”

“他都说了什么?”我急切地问。

“他跟我打了招呼,然后再一次重复了他在信中对我的警告。他说他没能阻止珀西瓦尔爵士针对你的恶劣行为,他找到我们的住处是要保护他自己的利益。你第一次去汉普郡回来的时候就被跟踪了,沃尔特。他在听到珀西瓦尔爵士的死讯后才决定登门,因为他认为你下一个对付的目标就是他。”

“让他说对了,”我说,“他说我什么了?”

“他非常冷静而有礼,同时又非常具有威胁性,”玛丽安接着说,“他说,‘请警告哈特里特先生!他要对付的是一个有智慧、有权势的人。叫他对已经得到的东西知足吧。告诉他,如果他跟我对着干,我将不遗余力地干掉他。我会不择手段的。亲爱的小姐,再见。’然后,他用冷酷的灰眼睛看了看我,就走了。

“我赶忙跑进屋,跟劳拉说我们得搬家。为她的健康着想,我们需要一个更安静、空气更好的地方。我说你也希望我们搬家,为什么不现在就搬,等你回来给你一个惊喜呢。她喜欢这个主意,欢天喜地地同意了。我通过一个校友找到这个住处。我做得没错吧,沃尔特?”

我说她做得非常好,这是我的心里话。

但是,她脸上依然带着忧虑,从她的眼神里看得出,她还在害怕伯爵的精明和权势。

“沃尔特,你怎么看他的那些话?下一步你准备怎么做?”

“几星期前,我就决定让劳拉重新在她叔叔家得到应有的承认,”我回答,“现在我还是这样想的。我要让福斯科伯爵为他犯下的罪行付出代价。”

玛丽安的眼睛一亮,虽然没有说话,但是看得出她非常支持这个计划。

“我清楚这样做风险很大,”我说,“但这件事一定要做。我不会愚蠢到没做好准备就动手。我可以等。让他觉得他的话起了作用,认为已经平安无事了。另外,我跟你和劳拉的关系也该比现在更明确。”

“怎么个更明确法?”她吃惊地问。

“玛丽安,我希望你能心平气和地告诉劳拉,她丈夫已经死了。”

“噢,沃尔特,这么快就告诉她?你这样做是不是有什么原因?”

“是的,我现在还不能跟劳拉谈,但总有一天,不会太久,我会告诉她我爱她。”

玛丽安看了我一会儿,然后淡淡地、略带忧伤地笑了笑,“好吧,我明白。我想这是我欠你们的,沃尔特,我会把她丈夫的死讯告诉她。”

第二天,劳拉知道她丈夫死了,她也从这段婚姻中解脱了,那以后我们谁也没再提过她丈夫的名字。

*  *  *

我们的生活恢复了往常的模式,但是我没有忘记伯爵。我了解到他在圣约翰伍德的房子又续租了6个月,因此可以肯定,到了我采取行动的时候,他还会在伦敦,我还可以找到他。

我们终于弄清了安妮·凯瑟里克的父亲是谁。我又去见了克莱门茨太太,告诉她安妮已经死了。她记起凯瑟里克太太当仆人的地方。她的雇主姓多桑。

我们给多桑先生写信,他在回信中告诉我们一些非常有趣的信息。菲利普·费尔利,就是劳拉的父亲,年轻时和他是好友,也是他家里的常客。菲利普风流潇洒,喜欢女色。多桑先生非常肯定凯瑟里克太太在他家当仆人的那段时间,也就是安妮出生的前一年,菲利普·费尔利一直住在他家。

玛丽安和我算了算时间,我们想到安妮和劳拉如此地相像,想到劳拉如此地像她父亲,我们得到了非常肯定的答案。菲利普·费尔利是安妮的父亲,安妮和劳拉是同父异母的姐妹。

现在,那位白衣女人,那位在寂静深夜出现的古怪而哀伤的女人终于可以安息了。

*  *  *

四个月过去了,劳拉的身体渐渐强壮起来,头脑也慢慢清楚了。她几乎又是原来的她了。我们交谈的时候,感觉和当初在利默里奇谈话时一样。当我无意间碰到她的时候,我感到心跳在加速,而且我注意到她也脸红了。

4月,我们到海边度假。在那里,我告诉玛丽安,等回到伦敦,我一定要迫使福斯科伯爵说实话,让他说出劳拉回伦敦的真正日期。

“但是为了劳拉的安全,我想如果我挑战伯爵的话,最好以她丈夫的身份前去,你同意吗,玛丽安?”

“完全同意,”玛丽安说,“我曾让你们两个分开,你在这儿等我一下,我的好朋友!一会儿劳拉就过来,她会告诉你我这次是怎么做的,好吗?”

她吻了吻我的额头,走了出去。我在窗旁等着,眼睛望着海滩,却什么也看不到,我紧张得几乎喘不过气来。门开了,劳拉一个人走进来。我们在利默里奇分手的时候,她是慢慢地走进房间的,神情充满了痛苦和犹豫。这会儿,她跑向我,脸上闪耀着幸福的光芒。她张开手臂紧紧地拥抱我,用甜润的双唇吻着我。

“亲爱的!”她轻声说,“现在我们能对彼此说‘我爱你’了吧?啊,我终于得到幸福了!”

十天以后,我们的幸福又向前迈进了一步,我们结婚了。

14
The confession

A fortnight later, we returned to London, and I began to prepare for my battle with the Count. It was now early May and the rental agreement for his house ended in June. In my new happiness with Laura (to whom we never mentioned the Count's name), I was sometimes tempted to change my mind and to leave things as they were. But she still had dreams, terrible dreams that made her cry out in her sleep, and I knew I had to go on.

First, I tried to find out more about the Count. Marian told me that he had not been back to Italy for many years. Had he been obliged to leave Italy for political reasons, I wondered? But Marian also said that at Blackwater Park he had received official-looking letters with Italian stamps on, which would seem to contradict this idea. Perhaps he was a spy, I thought. That might explain why he had stayed in England so long after the successful completion of his plot. Who could I ask who might know something? Another Italian, perhaps — and I suddenly thought of my old friend, Professor Pesca.

Before I did that, I decided to have a look at the Count, as up to this time I had never once set eyes on him. So one morning I went to Forest Road, St John's Wood, and waited near his house. Eventually, he came out and I followed behind him as he walked towards the centre of London. Marian had prepared me for his enormous size and fashionable clothes, but not for the horrible freshness and cheerfulness and energy of the man.

Near Oxford Street he stopped to read a sign announcing an opera, and then went into the opera ticket office, which was nearby. I went over to read the sign. The opera was being performed that evening, and it seemed likely that the Count would be in the audience.

If I invite Pesca to the opera, I thought, I can point the Count out to him and find out if he knows him. So I bought two tickets myself, sent Pesca a note, and that evening called to take him with me to the opera.

The music had already started when we went in, and all the seats were filled. However, there was room to stand at the sides. I looked around and saw the Count sitting in a seat half-way down, so I placed myself exactly on a line with him, with Pesca standing at my side. When the first part finished, the audience, including the Count, rose to look about them.

When the Count was looking in our direction, I nudged Pesca with my elbow. 'You see that tall fat man? Do you know him?'

'No,' said Pesca. 'Is he famous? Why do you point him out?'

'Because I have a reason for wanting to know more about him. He's an Italian, and his name is Count Fosco. Do you know that name? Look — stand on this step so that you can see him better.'

A slim, fair-haired man, with a scar on his left cheek, was standing near us. I saw him look at Pesca, and then follow the direction of his eyes to the Count. Pesca repeated that he did not know him, and as he spoke, the Count looked our way again.

The eyes of the two Italians met.

In that second I was suddenly convinced that, while Pesca may not have known the Count, the Count certainly knew Pesca!

Not only knew him, but — more surprising still — feared him as well. The Count's face had frozen into a dreadful stillness, the cheeks as pale as death, the cold grey eyes staring in terror.

Nearby, the man with the scar also seemed to be watching with interest the effect that Pesca had had on the Count.

'How the fat man stares!' Pesca said, looking round at me. 'But I've never seen him before in my life.'

As Pesca looked away, the Count turned, moving quickly towards the back of the theatre, where the crowd was thickest. I caught Pesca's arm and, to his great surprise, hurried him with me after the Count. The slim man with the scar had apparently also decided to leave, and was already ahead of us. By the time Pesca and I reached the entrance, neither the Count nor the slim man was in sight.

'Pesca,' I said urgently, 'I must speak to you in private. May we go to your lodgings to talk?'

'What on earth is the matter?' cried Pesca.

I hurried him on without answering. The way the Count had left the theatre, his extraordinary anxiety to avoid Pesca, made me fear that he might go even further — and out of my reach.

In Pesca's lodgings, I explained everything as fast as I could, while Pesca stared at me in great confusion and amazement.

'He knows you — he's afraid of you. He left the theatre to escape you,' I said. 'There must be a reason, Pesca! Think of your own life before you came to England. You left Italy for political reasons. I don't ask what they were. But could that man's terror be connected with your past in some way?'

To my inexpressible surprise, these harmless words seemed to terrify Pesca. His face went white and he started to tremble.

'Walter!' he whispered. 'You don't know what you ask.'

I stared at him. 'Pesca, forgive me. I didn't mean to cause you pain. I spoke only because of what my wife has suffered from that man's cruel actions. You must forgive me.'

I rose to go. He stopped me before I reached the door.

'Wait,' he said. 'You saved my life once. You have a right to hear from me what you want to know, even though I could be killed for it. I only ask that, if you find the connection between my past and that man Fosco, you do not tell me.'

Then, his face still pale as the memories of the past crowded in on him, he told me the story.

'In my youth I belonged — and still belong — to a secret political society. Let's call it the Brotherhood, I can't tell you its real name. But I took too many risks and did something which put other members in danger. So I was ordered to go and live in England and to wait. I went — I have waited — I still wait. I could be called away tomorrow, or in ten years. I cannot know.

'The purpose of the Brotherhood is to fight for the rights of the people. There is a president in Italy, and presidents abroad. Each of these has his secretary. The presidents and secretaries know the members, but members don't know each other, until it's considered necessary. Every member of the Brotherhood is identified by a small round mark burnt into the skin, high up on the inside of their left arm.'

He rolled up his sleeve and showed me his own mark.

'If anyone betrays the Brotherhood,' he went on, 'he is a dead man. Another member, a distant stranger or a neighbour, will be ordered to kill him. No one can leave the society — ever.'

Pesca paused, then continued. 'In Italy I was chosen to be secretary. The members at that time were brought face to face with the president, and were also brought face to face with me. You understand me — I see it in your face. But tell me nothing, I beg you! Let me stay free of a responsibility which horrifies me.

'I do not know the man at the opera,' he said finally. 'If he knows me, he is so changed, or disguised, that I do not know him. Leave me now, Walter. I have said enough.'

'I thank you with all my heart, Pesca,' I said. 'You will never, never regret the trust you have placed in me.'

Walking home, my heart beat with excitement. Here at last, surely, was my weapon against the Count! I was convinced he was a member of the Brotherhood, had betrayed it, and believed that he had been recognized tonight. His life was now in danger. What else could explain his extreme terror at seeing Pesca?

And what would he do next? Leave London as fast as he could. If I went to his house and tried to stop him, he would not hesitate to kill me. To protect myself, I had to make his safety depend on mine. I hurried home and wrote this letter to Pesca:

The man at the opera, Fosco, is a member of your society and has betrayed it. Go instantly to his house at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. I am already dead. Use your power against him without delay.

I signed and dated the letter, and wrote on the envelope: Keep until nine o'clock tomorrow morning. If you do not hear from me before then, open the envelope and read the contents.

I then found a messenger, told him to deliver the letter and bring back a note from Professor Pesca to say he had received it. Twenty minutes later I had the note, and as I was leaving, Marian came to the door, looking anxious.

'It's tonight, isn't it?' she said. 'You're going to the Count.'

'Yes, it's the last chance, and the best.'

'Oh, Walter, not alone! Let me go with you. Don't go alone?'

'No, Marian. You must stay here and guard Laura for me. Then I will be easy in my mind when I face the Count.'

*  *  *

As I approached the Count's house, I passed the man with the scar on his cheek, whom I had noticed earlier at the opera. What was he doing here, I wondered?

I sent in my card, and I still do not know why the Count let me into his house at half past eleven at night. Was he just curious to see me? He would not have known that I was at the opera with Pesca, and I suppose he thought he had nothing to fear from me.

He was still in his evening suit, and there was a travelling case on the floor, with books, papers, and clothes all around him. My guess had been right.

'You come here on business, Mr Hartright?' he said, looking at me with curiosity. 'I cannot think what that might be.'

'You are obviously preparing for a journey,' I said. 'That is my business. I know why you are leaving London.'

'So you know why I am leaving London?' He went over to a table and opened a drawer.' Tell me the reason, if you please.'

'I can show you the reason,' I said. 'Roll up the sleeve on your left arm, and you will see it.'

His cold grey eyes stared into mine. There was a long heartbeat of silence. I was as certain as if I had seen it that he had a gun hidden in the drawer, and that my life hung by a thread.

'Wait a little,' I said. 'Before you act, I advise you to read this note.' Moving slowly and carefully, I passed him Pesca's note.

He read the lines aloud.

Your letter is received. If I don't hear from you before nine o'clock, I will open the envelope when the clock strikes.

Another man might have needed an explanation, but not the Count. His expression changed, and he closed the drawer.

'You are cleverer than I thought,' he said. 'I cannot leave before nine as I have to wait for a passport to be delivered. Your information may be true or may be false — where did you get it?'

'I refuse to tell you.'

'And that unsigned note you showed me — who wrote it?'

'A man whom you have every reason to fear.'

A pause. 'What do you want of me, Mr Hartright? Is it to do with a lady, perhaps?'

'Yes, my wife,' I answered.

He looked at me in real amazement, and I saw at once that he no longer considered me a dangerous man. He folded his arms and listened to me with a cold smile.

'You are guilty of a wicked crime,' I went on. 'But you can keep the money. All I want is a signed confession of the plot and a proof of the date my wife travelled to London.'

'Good!' he said. 'Those are your conditions; here are mine. One, Madame Fosco and I leave the house when we please and you do not try to stop us. Two, you wait here until my agent comes early tomorrow morning and you give him an order to get back your letter unopened. You then allow us half an hour to leave the house. Three, you agree to fight me at a place to be arranged later abroad. Do you accept my conditions — yes or no?'

His quick decision, his cleverness and force of character amazed me. For a second I hesitated. Should I let him escape? Yes, the evidence I needed to prove Laura's identity was far more important than revenge.

'I accept your conditions,' I said.

At once, he called for coffee and sat down to write. He wrote quickly for quite some time. Finally, he jumped up, declared that he had finished and read out his statement, which I accepted as satisfactory. He gave me the address of the company from whom he had hired the cab to collect Laura, and also gave me a letter signed by Sir Percival. It was dated 25th July, and announced the journey of Lady Glyde to London on 26th July. So there it was. On 25th July, the date of her death certificate in London, Laura was alive in Hampshire, about to make a journey the next day.

The Count then called in Madame Fosco to watch me while he slept. Early in the morning his agent arrived and I wrote a note for Pesca. An hour later, the agent returned with my unopened letter and the Count's passport.

'Remember the third condition!' the Count said as he left. 'You will hear from me, Mr Hartright.' Then he and the Countess got into the agent's cab with their bags and drove away, leaving the agent with me to make sure I did not follow.

As I watched them leave, another cab went by and I saw inside the man with the scar on his cheek. What was his business with the Count, I wondered? I had seen him too often now for it to be chance. Perhaps I had fought my own battle with the Count just in time. You cannot get a signed confession out of a dead man.

While I waited for the agreed half hour, I read the document that the Count had written for me.


Statement by Isidor Ottavio Baldassare Fosco

In the summer of 1850 I arrived in England on delicate political business and stayed with my friend, Sir Percival Glyde. We both urgently needed large amounts of money. The only person who had such money was his wife, from whom not a penny could be obtained until her death. To make matters worse, my friend had other private problems. A woman called Anne Catherick was hidden in the neighbourhood, was communicating with Lady Glyde, and knew a secret which could ruin him. And if he was ruined, what would happen to our financial interests?

The first thing to do was to find Anne Catherick, who, I was told, looked very much like Lady Glyde and who had escaped from a mad-house. I had the fantastic idea of changing the names, places and lives of Lady Glyde and Anne Catherick, the one with the other. The wonderful results of this change would be the gain of £ 30,000 and the keeping of Sir Percival's secret.

I found Anne Catherick and persuaded her and her friend to return to London. I rented a house in St John's Wood for myself, and obtained from Mr Fairlie in Limmeridge an invitation for Lady Glyde to visit. For my plan to work, it was necessary for Lady Glyde to leave Blackwater Park alone and stay a night at my house on her way to Limmeridge. This plan was made easier by Miss Halcombe's illness. I returned to Blackwater Park, and when Miss Halcombe was out of danger, I got rid of the doctor and instructed Sir Percival to get rid of the servants.

Next, we sent Mrs Michelson away for a few days, and one night Madame Fosco, Mrs Rubelle and I moved the sleeping Miss Halcombe to an unused part of the house. I left for London in the morning with my wife, leaving Sir Percival to persuade Lady Glyde that her sister had gone to Limmeridge and that she should follow her, breaking her journey in London at my house.

On 24th July, with my wife's help, I got hold of Anne Catherick, and took her to my house as Lady Glyde. However, when she saw no one she recognized, she screamed with fear and, to my horror, the shock to her weak heart caused her to collapse. By the end of the following day, she was dead. Dead on the 25th, and Lady Glyde was not due to arrive in London till the 26th!

It was too late to change the plan. I remained calm and carried on. On the 26th, leaving the false Lady Glyde dead in my house, I collected the true Lady Glyde from the railway station and took her to Mrs Rubelle's house. The two medical men I had hired (shall we say) were easily persuaded to certify the confused and frightened Lady Glyde as mentally ill. Then I gave her a drug and had Mrs Rubelle dress her in Anne Catherick's clothes. The next day, the 27th, she was delivered to the asylum, where she was received with great surprise, but without suspicion. The false Lady Glyde was buried at Limmeridge. I attended the funeral with suitable expressions of deep sympathy.

One final question remains. If Anne Catherick had not died when she did, what would I have done? I would, of course, have given her a happy release from the prison of life.


tempt v. to make someone want to have or do something 引诱

contradict v. be in conflict with 与……相矛盾

perform v. act 表演

nudge v. push gently 轻轻地碰

inexpressible adj. that can not be expressed 难以说清的

disguise v. alter the appearance so as to conceal the identity 伪装

curious adj. eager to learn; inquisitive 好奇的

aloud adv. audibly 出声地

agent n. a person who acts for another in business, politics etc. 代理人

delicate adj. tricky 微妙的

fantastic adj. wonderful 绝好的

14.认罪

两个星期之后,我们回到了伦敦。我开始准备与伯爵的较量。现在是5月初,他租房的期限到6月。享受着与劳拉新婚的幸福(我们从未跟她提起过伯爵),有时我忍不住想改变主意,让一切都过去。但是劳拉仍会做梦,可怕的噩梦,她常常在梦里惊叫起来,因此我明白必须继续原来的计划。

首先,我想尽量多了解一些伯爵的事。玛丽安告诉我,他已经很多年没有回意大利了。我想,他是不是由于政治原因被迫离开意大利的呢?但是玛丽安又说,在布莱克沃特庄园他好像收到过贴着意大利邮票的官方来信,这两者是互相矛盾的。也许他是间谍。这样可以解释为什么他在自己的阴谋得逞后,还在英国逗留那么久。有谁能告诉我答案呢?也许该再找个意大利人问问——猛然间我想到了老朋友,佩斯卡教授。

去见佩斯卡教授前,我决定先去看一下伯爵,因为到目前为止,我还从来没有见过他。于是一天早上,我去了圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特大街,在他的住处附近等他出现。最后,他终于出来了,朝伦敦市中心走去。我在后面跟着他。玛丽安跟我提过他身躯肥胖,衣着入时,但我没想到这个人那么精力旺盛,神采飞扬。

在牛津街附近,他停住脚步看一个歌剧的海报,然后走进了不远处的售票处。我过去看了一下海报,发现演出就在晚上,伯爵很可能会出现在观众当中。

我想假如邀请佩斯卡来看歌剧,就可以把伯爵指给他,看他是否认识。于是,我自己买了两张票,给佩斯卡写了封短信,晚上找他一起去看歌剧。

我们进入剧院的时候,音乐已经响起来了,剧场里座无虚席。不过剧场两边还有站的地方。我环顾四周,看到伯爵坐在前面几排的座位上,于是我也站到了那一排,佩斯卡站在我旁边。第一部分演出结束了,观众们,包括伯爵在内,都起身向周围张望。

在伯爵朝我们这个方向看的时候,我用臂肘碰了一下佩斯卡,“看见那个高大的胖子了吗?你认识他吗?”

“不认识,”佩斯卡回答,“他很有名吗?你为什么让我看他?”

“因为我需要更多地了解关于他的情况。他是意大利人,叫福斯科伯爵。你听说过这个名字吗?来,站这个台阶上,你会看得更清楚些。”

一个瘦瘦的金发男子站在我们的旁边,他的左脸上有一道疤。我注意到他看了看佩斯卡,又顺着佩斯卡的视线看了看伯爵。佩斯卡再一次对我说,他不认识那个人,就在他说话的时候,伯爵朝我们这边看过来。

这两个意大利人的目光相遇了。

那一瞬间,我敢肯定地说,佩斯卡可能不认识伯爵,但伯爵一定认识佩斯卡!

不仅是认识,更令人惊奇的是伯爵害怕佩斯卡。伯爵脸上的表情凝固了,像死人一样毫无血色,冷酷的灰眼睛恐惧地盯着这边。

脸上有疤的人似乎饶有兴趣地在一旁看着佩斯卡对伯爵的影响。

“那个胖子怎么那样看着我!”佩斯卡说,转过头看着我,“我从未见过他呀。”

佩斯卡扭头的时候,伯爵转身快步向剧场后边走去,那里人最多。我一把抓住佩斯卡的胳膊,不顾他的惊讶,拉着他紧追伯爵。那个脸上有疤的瘦子显然也准备离开剧场,并且已经走到了我们的前面。等我和佩斯卡赶到入口,伯爵和那个瘦子都已经不见了。

“佩斯卡,”我赶忙说,“我必须和你单独谈谈,我们到你的住处去谈可以吗?”

“这到底是怎么回事?”佩斯卡大声说。

我没回答,只是催着他赶紧走。伯爵离开剧场的样子,还有他迫不及待地要躲避佩斯卡,使我担心他可能会逃得更远——我可能再也找不到他了。

到了佩斯卡的住处,我以最快的速度向他讲述了事情的经过,他充满迷惑和惊讶地望着我。

他认识你——他很怕你。他离开剧场就是要逃避你,”我说,“这其中一定有原因,佩斯卡!回忆一下你来英国以前的经历。你是由于政治原因离开意大利的,我不是问你那些政治原因,不过那个人如此惊慌会不会同你的过去有什么关联?”

令我非常吃惊的是,这些本来无关紧要的话好像令佩斯卡非常惊恐。他的脸色变得煞白,身体开始颤抖。

“沃尔特!”他低声说,“你不知道你问了什么。”

我两眼紧盯着他,“佩斯卡,请原谅。我不是有意要给你带来痛苦,我说那些话只是因为那个人给我妻子带来了巨大的伤害。请你原谅我。”

我起身要离开,还没走到门口,他叫住了我。

“等一下,”他说,“你救过我的命,你有权从我这里知道你想要知道的东西,即使这会要了我的命。我唯一的请求是,即使你发现了我的过去同那个福斯科的关系,你也不要告诉我。”

接着,他开始讲他的经历,过去的记忆卷土重来,令他脸色煞白。

“我年轻的时候参加了一个秘密政治社团,现在还是它的成员。我们姑且叫它兄弟社团,我不能告诉你真实的名称。我当时完成了很多出生入死的任务,也做了一些给其他成员带来危险的事,所以社团命令我到英国待命。我服从命令来了英国——一直在等——现在还在等。我可能明天就被召回,也许是10年以后。我不知道。

“兄弟社团的宗旨是为人民争取权利。它在意大利有一个主席,国外有很多主席。每个主席都有秘书。主席和秘书认识所有的成员,但除非在必要的情况下,成员们彼此都不认识。每个兄弟社团成员的左臂内侧靠上的地方都有一个很小的圆形烙印,这是他们的记号。”

他卷起衣袖,给我看他自己的烙印。

“任何人背叛了兄弟社团,”他接着说,“他肯定会被处死。其他成员,也许是一个他不认识的陌生人,也许是他的邻居,会奉命杀死他。任何人不能退出社团——永远都不可以。”

佩斯卡停了一会儿又说:“在意大利,我被选为秘书,所有的成员那时都被带来见主席,当然也就见到了。你明白了我的意思——我从你的表情看出来了。但是,什么也别跟我说,求你了!我不想做我必须做的事,我感到害怕。

“我不认识剧场的那个人,”他最后说,“如果他认识,那他一定跟以前变化很大,或者伪装了自己,让我认不出来了。你现在走吧,沃尔特。我说得够多了。”

“我衷心地感谢你,佩斯卡,”我说,“你永远不会为信任我而后悔的。”

走在回家的路上,我的心情激动不已。我终于找到了对付伯爵的武器。我敢肯定他原来是一个兄弟社团成员,后来背叛了社团,他认为自己今晚被认出来了。现在他的生命很危险。不然他见到佩斯卡为什么那样害怕呢?

那他接着会做什么呢?尽快离开伦敦。如果我去他的住处拦住他,他肯定会毫不犹豫地杀了我。为保护我自己,我必须让他的生命安全地攥在我的手里。我赶忙回到家,给佩斯卡写了一封信:

剧场的那个人,福斯科,是你们社团的一个成员,他背叛了社团。赶快到他的住处圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特街5号。我已经死了。请用你的力量立即干掉他。

我签了名,写上日期,又在信封上写道:等到明天上午9点。如果到那时还没有我的消息,再打开信封读里面的内容。

然后,我找了一个信使,叫他把信送走并带回佩斯卡的回复,说他已经收到信了。20分钟后,我拿到了回复的纸条。我刚要离开,玛丽安出现在门口,脸上露出担忧的表情。

“就是今天晚上吗?”她说,“你要去找伯爵。”

“对,这是最后的机会,也是最好的机会。”

“噢,沃尔特,别一个人去!让我跟你去吧,不要一个人去!”

“不行,玛丽安。你必须留在这里替我保护劳拉。那样,我面对伯爵的时候才会放心。”

*  *  *

快到伯爵住处的时候,我碰见了脸上有疤的那个人,早些时候在剧场就见过他。他在这儿做什么,我心里很纳闷。

我把名片递进去,我到现在也不明白,为什么夜里11点半伯爵还让我进去。他对我好奇,想见我?他并不知道我和佩斯卡同在剧场,我猜想他觉得我没有什么好怕的。

他还穿着晚礼服,地上有一个旅行箱,他周围满是书籍、文件和衣服。我猜的没错。

“你来这里有事,哈特里特先生?”他一边说,一边用好奇的眼光打量我,“我想不出会是什么事。”

“你像是在准备出门旅行,”我说,“这就是我来的原因。我知道你为什么要离开伦敦。”

“你知道我为什么要离开伦敦?”他走到一张桌旁,打开抽屉,“如果你愿意,说说为什么。”

“我可以让你看看为什么,”我说,“把你左边的衣袖卷起,就能看到。”

他那冷酷的灰眼睛一动不动地盯着我。接下来是一阵令人紧张的寂静。我就像亲眼所见一样清楚,那抽屉里藏着枪,我现在命悬一线。

“等一下,”我说,“你动手之前,我建议你看看这个纸条。”我慢慢地、小心翼翼地把佩斯卡的纸条递给他。

他出声读着纸条。

你的信收到了。如果9点以前没有你的消息,9点整,钟一响我就打开信封。

假如换作另外一个人,可能需要一些解释,但伯爵不需要。他脸上的表情变了,他关上了抽屉。

“你比我想的要聪明,”他说,“我9点以前走不了,我得等人给我送护照来。你得到的信息可能是真的,也可能是假的。你是从哪儿知道的?”

“我不会告诉你的。”

“你给我的没有签名的纸条是谁写的?”

“一个你非常害怕的人。”

他停了一会儿,“你要我做什么,哈特里特先生?是不是跟一位女士有关?”

“是的,是我妻子。”我回答。

他非常吃惊地看着我。看得出他不再认为我会给他带来危险了。他双手交叉抱在胸前,面带冷笑听我继续说下去。

“你犯下了严重的罪行,”我接着说道,“但是,你可以留着你得到的钱。我只要一个由你签名的认罪书,还有我妻子回伦敦的日期证明。”

“好!”他说,“这是你的条件,我的条件是:第一,福斯科夫人和我在我们愿意的时候离开这里,你不要阻止我们。第二,你呆在这里,明天一早我的代理人过来,你让他取回那封还没有打开的信。然后,你要给我们半个小时的时间离开这里。第三,你答应跟我在国外找一个地方决斗。你接受我的条件吗——是还是否?”

他的迅速决断,他的精干和意志力令我震惊。我犹豫了一会儿。我应该让他逃走吗?是的,证明劳拉身份的证据比复仇重要得多。

“我接受你的条件。”我说。

他随即叫人拿来咖啡,坐下开始写。他落笔如飞,写了很长时间。最后,他站起来,说他已经写完了并念给我听。我觉得还满意。他给了我他租车接劳拉的那家公司的地址,同时给我的还有珀西瓦尔爵士签名的一封信。信的日期是7月25日,里面说格莱德夫人将于7月26日启程去伦敦。这就是证据。7月25日,即死亡证明上宣告劳拉死于伦敦的日子,劳拉还在汉普郡活着准备第二天的旅行。

然后,伯爵把福斯科夫人叫进来,让她看着我,他自己去睡觉。第二天一早,他的代理人来了,我给佩斯卡写了封短信。一个小时后,代理人拿着我那封没打开的信和护照回来了。

“别忘了第三个条件!”伯爵临走时说,“你会收到我的信的,哈特里特先生。”说完,他和伯爵夫人坐上代理人的马车离开了这里,代理人留下来,确保我不跟踪他们。

我看着他们离开,这时另一辆马车驶过去,车里坐着那个脸上有疤的人。他和伯爵有什么瓜葛?我看到他好几次了,不应该是巧合。或许我跟伯爵的较量正是时候。他要是死了,我就没法得到他签名的笔录了。

在约定的半小时里,我读了伯爵写给我的认罪书。

伊西多·奥塔维奥·鲍尔德塞尔·福斯科的证词

1850年夏天,由于微妙的政治原因我来到英国,同我的朋友珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士住在一起。我们两人都急需一大笔钱。唯一拥有这笔钱的人是他妻子,但是他妻子不死,我们一分钱也得不到。更糟糕的是,我的朋友又遇到了别的麻烦事。一个叫安妮·凯瑟里克的女人藏在我们附近,她在同格莱德夫人接触,并且掌握着一个可以毁掉珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。如果他完蛋了,那我们的经济利益怎么办呢?

我们要做的第一件事就是找到安妮·凯瑟里克。我了解到她的长相和格莱德夫人极为相似。她是从精神病院逃出来的。我突发奇想,把格莱德夫人同安妮·凯瑟里克的名字、住处、经历互换一下。互换的结果既可以让我们得到3万英镑,又能够保住珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。

我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,说服她和她的朋友回伦敦去。我自己在圣约翰伍德租了房子,同时从利默里奇的费尔利先生那里得到了邀请格莱德夫人去看望他的信。要实现我的计划,必须让格莱德夫人一个人离开布莱克沃特庄园,在去往利默里奇的途中在我家里住一夜。哈尔库姆小姐的病让我的计划更容易进行了。我回到布莱克沃特庄园,等哈尔库姆小姐一脱离危险,就辞退了医生,并且让珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了所有仆人。

下一步,我们让米切尔森太太离开庄园几天。一天晚上,福斯科夫人、鲁贝尔太太和我把昏睡中的哈尔库姆小姐抬到了一个没有人住的房间里。转天一早,我和夫人赶往伦敦,留下珀西瓦尔爵士劝说格莱德夫人,让她相信她姐姐已经去了利默里奇,她也应该去找她,途中在伦敦我的家休息。

7月24日,在我妻子的协助下,我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,把她带到我的住处,假装就是格莱德夫人。然而,当安妮·凯瑟里克看到没有一个她认识的人时,吓得叫了起来。令我非常害怕的是,惊吓使她脆弱的心脏无法承受,转天她就死了。她是25日死的,可是格莱德夫人26日才能到伦敦!

改变计划已经来不及了。我尽量保持头脑冷静,继续着原来的计划。26日,我把已死的假格莱德夫人留在家里,到车站去接真正的格莱德夫人,带她到鲁贝尔太太家。我雇用的(可以这样说)两个医生很容易就被说服了,他们证明迷惑而惊恐的格莱德夫人患了精神病。而后,我给她吃了镇静药,让鲁贝尔太太给她穿上安妮·凯瑟里克的衣服。第二天,也就是27日,格莱德夫人被送进精神病院,那里的人非常吃惊,但没有人怀疑。假格莱德夫人被埋葬在利默里奇。我出席了葬礼,表现出应有的悲伤与同情。

还有最后一个问题,如果安妮·凯瑟里克没有死的话,我会怎么办呢?我当然很高兴帮她摆脱牢笼般的人生。

15
The proof

When the half hour had passed, I returned home. After a brief explanation to Laura and Marian, I hurried back to St John's Wood to find the cab-driver whom the Count had hired to collect Laura at the station. He wrote me a statement, which he and a witness signed, saying that on 26th July 1850 he had driven a Count Fosco to the railway station where they had collected a Lady Glyde. He remembered Lady Glyde's name, he said, from the labels on her luggage.

Then I went to Mr Kyrle's office and presented him with the proof of Laura's identity — the letter from Sir Percival, the statement by the cab-driver, the confession by the Count, and the death certificate. Amazed, he congratulated me, and agreed to accompany us to Limmeridge the next day, where I intended to have Laura publicly received and recognized.

Early the next morning Laura, Marian, Mr Kyrle and I took the train to Limmeridge. Laura and Marian stayed at first in a hotel while Mr Kyrle and I went to the house to deal with Mr Fairlie. He complained like a child, saying how was he to know his niece was alive when he was told she was dead? Between us, the lawyer and I made him sign letters calling all those who had attended the false funeral to come to the house the next day.

As I led Laura into her childhood home the following morning, there was a murmur of surprise and interest from the waiting crowd of villagers and neighbours. The business was soon done. I read out the story of the plot against Laura, and Mr Kyrle announced that everything I had said was proved by the strongest evidence. I put my arm around Laura, raised her up, and called to the crowd:

'Are you all agreed that this is the Laura Fairlie you knew?'

'There she is, alive and well — God bless her!' It was an old man at the back of the room who began it, and in an instant everybody was shouting and cheering together.

Later, in the churchyard, we watched a stone worker remove Laura's name from the gravestone. In its place he put this:

ANNE CATHERICK

25TH JULY 1850

We returned to London the following day, happy in the thought that the long struggle was now over.

*  *  *

Several days later Pesca came to see me, and asked for a quiet word in my ear. He had just returned from Paris.

'I have news for you, my friend,' he said. 'You need not worry any more about the man at the opera. His body was found in the river Seine yesterday and now lies in the morgue in Paris. He was killed by knife wounds to the heart.'

'Count Fosco is dead?' I said, amazed. 'Are you sure?'

'I saw the body with my own eyes. He was wearing a French workman's clothes, and had a different name, of course, but he was the fat man we saw at the opera that night. No question.'

'But how do you know this?' I asked.

Pesca hesitated. 'A man brought me some information,' he said. 'I had to see the body, and send a report about it.'

'A man,' I said. 'What kind of man?'

'A stranger,' said Pesca. 'I didn't know him. A man with a scar on his left cheek.' He saw the understanding in my face, and held up his hand. 'No more questions, my friend. Please!'

We never spoke about it again, but I think Pesca was telling me that the Brotherhood had taken their revenge. And so Count Fosco, that extraordinary, evil man, passed from this world.

*  *  *

The following year our first child was born — a son. Six months later my newspaper sent me to Ireland and, when I returned, I found a note from my wife saying she and Marian and little Walter had gone to Limmeridge House. She begged me to follow as soon as possible. Very surprised, I caught the next train. When I got there, Marian and Laura told me Mr Fairlie was dead and that Mr Kyrle had advised them to go to Limmeridge House.

Laura came close to me and I half realized some great change was happening in our lives.

'Do you know who this is, Walter?' Marian asked, holding up my little son, with tears of happiness in her eyes. 'This is the boy who will one day inherit Limmeridge House.'

So she spoke. In writing those last words, I have written everything. Marian was the good friend of our lives — let Marian end our story.


label n. a small piece of paper, card etc. attached to an object and giving information about it 标签

congratulate v. express pleasure at the happiness or good fortune or excellence of a person 祝贺

morgue n. a room or building in which dead bodies may be kept until burial or cremation 停尸间

15.证据

alt

那半个小时过去了,我回到家里。简单地向劳拉和玛丽安说明了情况后,我立即赶回圣约翰伍德去找那个伯爵雇来到车站接劳拉的车夫。那人给我写了份证词,他和另一个证人都签了字。证词说,1850年7月26日他驾车送福斯科伯爵去车站,接了一位格莱德夫人。他说还记得格莱德夫人的名字,是在行李标签上看到的。

然后,我去了克尔先生的办公室,给他看了证明劳拉身份的证据——珀西瓦尔爵士的信、马车夫的证词、伯爵的认罪书和那份死亡证明。克尔先生很吃惊,接着向我表示祝贺并且答应第二天陪我们到利默里奇,我准备让人们公开地接受和认可劳拉。

转天的一大早,劳拉、玛丽安、克尔先生和我乘火车前往利默里奇。劳拉和玛丽安先在一家旅店里休息,克尔先生和我去庄园与费尔利先生交涉。费尔利先生像孩子一样抱怨说,有人告诉他他侄女死了,他怎么会知道他侄女还活着?在只有我们三个人的情况下,克尔先生和我让他在事先准备好的信上签字,邀请所有参加那场假葬礼的人第二天到费尔利家来。

第二天早晨,当我带着劳拉走进她儿时的家时,等候在那里的村民和邻居们发出惊奇的低语声。很快我们进入了正题。我大声宣读了针对劳拉的罪恶阴谋的全过程,克尔先生当众宣布我说的每一件事都证据确凿。我搂住劳拉,扶她起来,高声对众人说:

“你们说这是不是你们认识的劳拉·费尔利?”

“是她,她还好好地活着——上帝保佑她!”一位站在屋子后面的老人首先说,其他人也都立刻欢呼起来。

后来,在教堂墓地里,我们亲眼看着一位石匠把劳拉的名字从墓碑上凿去,在原来的地方刻上:

安妮·凯瑟里克

卒于1850年7月25日

转天,我们返回了伦敦,想到漫长的斗争终于结束了,我们都非常高兴。

*  *  *

过了几天,佩斯卡来看我,要跟我单独聊聊。他刚从巴黎回来。

“我有重要的消息要告诉你,我的朋友,”他说,“你不用再担心剧场里的那个人了,昨天在塞纳河发现了他的尸体,现在他的尸体停放在巴黎的停尸间。他是被人用刀子刺进心脏而死的。”

“福斯科伯爵已经死了?”我吃惊地问,“你能肯定吗?”

“我亲眼看了他的尸体,他穿着法国工人的制服,当然也换了名字,但他就是那天晚上我们在剧场见到的那个胖子。一点儿没错。”

“可你是怎么知道这个消息的呢?”我问。

佩斯卡犹豫了一下。“有人告诉我的,”他说,“我必须亲眼看到他的尸体,然后发一个报告。”

“有人,”我说,“是什么人?”

“一个陌生人,”佩斯卡回答,“我不认识那个人,他的左脸上有一道疤。”看到我脸上了然的表情,他抬了抬手,“请不要多问了,我的朋友!”

我们再没有提起这件事,不过我想佩斯卡是要告诉我兄弟社团已经采取了复仇行动。就这样,福斯科伯爵,那个能力不俗的恶徒从这个世界上消失了。

*  *  *

第二年,我们的第一个孩子出世了——是个儿子。6个月以后,我供职的那家报社派我去了爱尔兰。我回来的时候,看到妻子留给我的一封短信,信上说她和玛丽安还有小沃尔特去了利默里奇庄园。她让我尽快去找他们。我感到很惊讶,赶下一班火车去了那里。我到那儿之后,玛丽安和劳拉告诉我费尔利先生去世了,是克尔先生建议她们到利默里奇庄园去的。

劳拉走到我身边,我朦胧地意识到我们的生活将要发生什么大事。

“你知道这是谁吗,沃尔特?”玛丽安一边举起我的小儿子,一边问我,眼睛里充满了喜悦的泪水,“这个孩子将来有一天会继承利默里奇庄园。”

她就是这样说的。写完了最后几句话,我的讲述就到这里了。玛丽安是我们的终生好友——就让她结束我们的故事吧。

13.The threat

PART THREE
THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
第三部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

9
The gravestone

On 13th October 1850 I left the wild forests of Central America and returned to England. I had escaped death by disease, death by war, and death by drowning, and hoped that these experiences had strengthened me to face my future — a future without Laura Fairlie. I still remembered her as Laura Fairlie, and could not think of her by her husband's name.

The first thing I did was to visit my mother and sister in their Hampstead cottage. The joy of our meeting, however, soon turned to sadness. I have no secrets from my mother, and when I saw the loving pity in her eyes, I feared the worst.

The news was soon told. I tried hard not to let my sorrow spoil the happiness of my return for my mother and sister, but by the third day I knew I had to go away alone for a while.

'Let me go up to Limmeridge,' I begged my mother. 'I can bear it better when I have seen her grave.'

It was a warm autumn afternoon when I arrived at the station and walked down the familiar road, seeing in the distance the high white walls of Limmeridge House. In the churchyard I found the grave and knelt down beside the gravestone, closing my eyes.

Oh my love! My Love! My dear, dear Love!

Hours passed, and the evening sunlight threw long shadows among the sleeping places of the dead. I had lost all sense of time, kneeling there. Then, in the silence, I heard the soft sound of footsteps on the grass.

I looked up.

Beyond me, standing together by the churchyard wall, were two women, their veils down, hiding their faces. They were looking towards the grave, looking towards me.

Two.

They came closer, and stopped. One of them lifted her veil, and in the still evening light I saw the face of Marian Halcombe. A changed face. Thin and pale, full of pain and fear.

The woman with the veiled face came towards me slowly. Marian Halcombe sank to her knees, murmuring, 'Oh God, help him! Please, please help him, God!'

The veiled woman came on, slowly and silently. I looked at her — at her, and at no one else, from that moment. She had possession of me, body and soul. She stopped by the side of the gravestone, and we stood face to face with the grave between us.

'Oh God, help him, help him!'

The woman lifted her veil.

In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde...

Laura, Lady Glyde, was standing by the gravestone, looking at me over her grave.

*  *  *

A life suddenly changed. A new future before me, like the sunlit view from a mountain top. I leave my story in the quiet shadow of Limmeridge church, and begin again, one week later, in the noise and rush of a London street.

I have rented rooms under a different name. Marian and Laura, using the same name, are said to be my sisters. I earn our bread by doing drawings for cheap magazines. We employ no servant; my elder sister, Marian, does the housework with her own hands. Marian and I are known to be the friends of mad Anne Catherick (address unknown), who falsely claims the identity of Lady Glyde. To the rest of the world, Laura, Lady Glyde, is dead. Dead to her uncle, who has refused to recognize her; dead to the lawyers, who have passed her fortune to her husband and aunt.

But to Marian and me she is alive! Penniless and sadly changed — her beauty faded, her mind confused — but alive, with her poor drawing teacher to fight her battles and to win her way back to the world of living beings. She is mine at last — mine to support, to protect, to defend. And mine to love.


drown v. to kill by submerging and suffocating in liquid 淹死;溺死

strengthen v. make stronger 变得坚强

veil n. a piece of fabric attached to a woman's hat 面纱

earn one's bread earn one's living 维持生计

penniless adj. having no money 身无分文的

9.墓碑

1850年10月13日我离开中美洲的原始森林,回到了英国。我一次次逃过疾病、战争和洪水带来的死亡危险。我希望这些经历能够使我更加坚强地面对未来——没有劳拉的未来。在我心里她依然是劳拉·费尔利,我无法把她冠以她丈夫的姓氏。

我回来后的第一件事是到汉普斯特德看望母亲和妹妹。欢聚的快乐很快转化为悲伤。我没有任何秘密瞒着母亲,从她充满爱怜和同情的眼光里,我预感到最坏的事情发生了。

她们把消息告诉了我。我尽最大努力不让自己的悲哀破坏我回家带给母亲和妹妹的喜悦。但是,回来的第三天,我觉得必须一个人离开一段时间。

“让我到利默里奇去一趟吧,”我恳求着母亲,“看到她的坟墓,我可以更好地接受这一切。”

那是一个秋日的午后,天气很暖和,我到达目的地车站,走在熟悉的大路上,望着远处利默里奇庄园的白色高墙。在教堂墓地里,我找到了劳拉的墓,在她的墓碑前跪下来,闭上了双眼。

我的爱人我的爱人我最亲爱的人

几个小时过去了,落日的余辉在死者的安息地投下长长的影子。我跪在那里,完全没有了时间概念。这时,寂静中传来人走在草地上的脚步声。

我抬起头来。

不远处,教堂墓地的围墙边站着两个女人,面纱遮住了她们的脸。她们正朝墓地张望,正朝张望。

两个女人。

她们朝我走来。其中一个掀起了面纱,借着仅有的一点儿光线,我看出那是玛丽安·哈尔库姆小姐。她的脸变得跟从前不一样了:清瘦而苍白,充满了痛苦和恐惧。

头戴面纱的女人缓慢地向我走来。玛丽安·哈尔库姆跪下来,轻声说:“噢,上帝,帮帮他吧,帮帮他吧,上帝!”

头戴面纱的女人向我走来,缓慢地,无言地向我走来。我注视着她——目不转睛地久久注视着她。她占据了我的一切,我的灵魂和肉体。她在墓碑前停住脚步,我们隔着坟墓互相注视着。

“噢,上帝,帮帮他,帮帮他吧!”

那个女人掀起了面纱。

爱妻劳拉·格莱德夫人之墓……

劳拉·格莱德夫人,她就站在墓碑旁,隔着坟墓望着我。

alt

*  *  *

生活突然间变了。一个崭新的未来展现在我的面前,就像在山顶上看到的撒满阳光的景色。我把过去的故事留在了利默里奇教堂那寂静的阴影中,一星期后在喧闹、繁忙的伦敦开始了新的生活。

我换了一个姓氏租了房子。玛丽安和劳拉也用同样的姓氏,对外人就说是我的姐妹。我靠给廉价杂志画画维持生计。我们没有请仆人,我的姐姐,玛丽安亲自做家务。我和玛丽安对外就说是疯女人安妮·凯瑟里克(住址不详)的朋友,那疯女人总说自己是格莱德夫人。对世界上其他人来说,劳拉·格莱德夫人已经死了;对拒不承认她的叔叔,她已经死了;对把她的财产转给她丈夫和姑妈的律师,她也已经死了。

但是对于玛丽安和我,她还活着!她身无分文,人也变了——她的美丽在消逝,头脑一片混乱——但她还活着,她那可怜的绘画教师要为她奋争,使她重新回到真实的生活中来。她终于属于我了——由我供养、呵护、保护,由我所爱。

10
The rescue

At the first opportunity we had, Marian told me everything that had happened to her and Laura. The hardest part for her was after she had returned to Limmeridge House.

'I was in despair, Walter,' she said. 'Mr Kyrle's investigation was finished, and had shown nothing, he said. Mr Fairlie was no help at all — I heard that he didn't even leave his room to go to the funeral! But he did show me a letter he'd received from Count Fosco, which contained news of Anne Catherick. The Count said that Anne Catherick had been found and put back in the asylum from which she had escaped. But because she hated Sir Percival and wanted to make trouble for him, she was now claiming that she was not Anne Catherick at all, but Lady Glyde. The Count warned Mr Fairlie that if she escaped again, she might try to annoy members of Lady Glyde's family.

'I wasn't well enough to do anything for about a month after returning to Limmeridge, but when I felt stronger, I decided to make some investigations myself. First, I planned to visit the asylum in London and talk to poor Anne Catherick, to find out why she was claiming to be Laura. I knew the address because you had given it to me, all those months ago.

'Well, Walter, you can guess what's coming, I'm sure. The director of the asylum, who seemed an honest person, told me that Anne Catherick had been brought back on 27th July. He was puzzled by some odd personal changes in her, but assumed they were caused by her mental illness. He then called a nurse to take me to Anne Catherick, who was walking in the gardens.

'Imagine the shock, Walter — seeing my dead sister walking towards me in that garden! We just ran into each other's arms, unable to say a word. How the nurse stared at us!'

'I think I know how you must have felt,' I said. 'I shall never forget in the churchyard at Limmeridge... But tell me, however did you get Laura out of the asylum?'

'Bribery, Walter. I didn't want to risk a legal battle and all the delay that would involve, so I persuaded the nurse that a terrible mistake had been made and she would be doing a good thing in helping Anne Catherick escape. And I offered her £400. The plan went smoothly, and by early afternoon the next day Laura and I were on the train to Cumberland.'

'And Laura?' I asked. 'What actually happened on the day she left Blackwater Park and came to London?'

Marian sighed. 'Oh, Walter, it's not at all clear. Poor Laura's mind is so confused now that her memory of events is very unreliable. She can't even remember the date she left Blackwater. All she has been able to tell me is this. The Count met her at the station, and said that I was still in London and that he would take her to see me at once. She doesn't remember where the cab went, but it was clearly not to his house in St John's Wood. She was taken to a house in a narrow street, where people came and went, asking her questions she didn't understand. At this point the Count told her I was now very ill; she was so frightened by this news she nearly fainted. Someone then gave her a glass of water, which she said tasted odd — and after that she lost consciousness.'

'Poor, poor Laura,' I murmured.

'She woke up,' Marian continued, 'in the asylum, unable to leave, unable to make contact with the outside world. She was called by Anne Catherick's name and found she was wearing clothes with Anne Catherick's name on them. She was told Lady Glyde was dead and buried, and that she was Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick... Day in, day out, from 27th July to 15th October, she was made to feel that she was mad. It's hardly surprising her mind is so confused now.'

'And what happened at Limmeridge?' I asked.

Marian turned her face away. 'I can't bear to think about it,' she said. 'The worst part was taking Laura into Mr Fairlie's room. He looked straight into Laura's face and said, "My niece is buried in Limmeridge churchyard. I don't recognize this woman. Remove her from my house before I call on the law to protect me." Even the servants were doubtful about her identity, because she was so much changed and so confused by her experiences. Perhaps people would have been persuaded if we'd stayed longer, but I didn't dare risk it. At any minute the people from the asylum might come looking for us, so I decided to return to London at once and hide. Then, as we were passing the churchyard, Laura insisted on a last look at her mother's grave. And... well, that moment changed our three lives.'

'I think God was guiding Laura's footsteps,' I said.

How well I remember that day — that moment when Laura laid her poor head innocently and trustingly on my shoulder, and said, 'They have tried to make me forget everything, Walter, but I remember Marian, and I remember you.'

*  *  *

The plot against Laura was now clear. Anne Catherick had been taken into Count Fosco's house as Lady Glyde, and Lady Glyde had taken the dead woman's place in the asylum. It was also clear that the three of us could expect no mercy from Count Fosco and Sir Percival, who between them had gained £30,000 from the plot. They would do everything in their power to prevent their crime being discovered, and would hunt for their victim to separate her from her only friends — Marian and myself. This is why I had chosen a poor and crowded part of London to live in. It is easier to hide in a place where people are always coming and going.

Our life quickly took on a regular pattern — work, watching out for our enemies, and care of Laura, whom we surrounded with a gentle, protective love, helping her slowly but steadily to recover her balance of mind and her self-confidence.

Meanwhile, Marian and I began the battle. We studied the statements that Mr Kyrle had taken from witnesses — the doctor, and the servants and cook in Count Fosco's house. I obtained a copy of Lady Glyde's death certificate, and Marian wrote to Mrs Michelson, who replied, saying that she could not remember the exact date of Laura's departure from Blackwater Park. Nor could she remember when the letter announcing Laura's death, which was undated, had arrived from Madame Fosco.

I also arranged to visit Mr Kyrle, to ask for his help. After listening to my long explanation, the lawyer shook his head.

'My legal opinion, Mr Hartright, is that you won't win this case in a court of law. I accept, of course, that the identity of Lady Glyde as a living person is a proved fact to Miss Halcombe and yourself. But there is no evidence. If you could prove that the date on the death certificate was earlier than the date of Lady Glyde's journey to London, then you might have a case.'

As I left, he gave me a letter that had been delivered to him for Marian, and told me, in answer to my question, that Sir Percival Glyde had returned to London.

Outside in the street I soon noticed two men following me, and realized too late that the Count's spies must have been watching the lawyer's office, in the hope that Marian or I would go there. I went home by a very long route and managed to lose them, but it was a warning to me to be more careful.

Marian was very worried when I told her about the two men. Then I gave her the letter. She recognized the writing instantly.

'It's from Count Fosco.'


Dear and admirable woman, do not be afraid! Stay hidden, with your gentle companion, and nothing will happen to you. Challenge nothing, threaten nobody. Do not, I beg you, force me into action. If Mr Hartright returns to England, do not speak to him. If he crosses my path, he is a Lost man. F.


'Walter!' Marian said, her eyes flashing with anger. 'If ever the Count and Sir Percival are at your mercy and you must spare one of them, don't let it be the Count.'

'I'll keep this letter to remind me when the time comes,' I said. 'But tomorrow I will go to Blackwater, to try and find out the date of Laura's journey to London. It's the one weak point in their plot.'

'You mean that perhaps Laura did not leave for London until after the date on the death certificate?'

'Exactly. I think she left on 26th July. The Director of the asylum said she was taken there on the 27th. I doubt if they could have kept her drugged more than one night. We know from Mrs Michelson that Sir Percival left on the same day as Laura. I'll ask everyone in the village if they remember when he left.'

'And if that fails?'

'If that fails, Marian, I'll force a confession from Sir Percival. We have one weapon against him — his secret. Anne Catherick said that if his secret was known, it would ruin him. I intend to find out that secret. The woman in white, though dead in her grave, is still with us and is showing us the way!'


bribery n. persuading a person to act in one's favor by a gift of money or services 贿赂

unreliable adj. not liable 不可靠的

plot n. a conspiracy or secret plan esp. to achieve an unlawful end 阴谋

mercy n. kindness, pity, and willingness to forgive 仁慈

cross one's path meet sb by chance 与…偶然相遇

flash v. burst 闪烁

10.营救

我们刚一有机会交谈,玛丽安就把她和劳拉的遭遇从头到尾讲给我听。最令她难过的是回到利默里奇之后的经历。

“我太绝望了,沃尔特,”她说,“克尔先生的调查结束了,他说什么也没发现。费尔利先生一点儿忙也不帮——我听说他甚至都没离开他的房间去参加葬礼!不过他倒是把福斯科伯爵的信给了我,信里面有安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。伯爵说安妮·凯瑟里克已经找到了,被送回了原来的精神病院。但是,凯瑟里克因为痛恨珀西瓦尔爵士,想给他找麻烦,所以她现在自称不是安妮·凯瑟里克,而是格莱德夫人。伯爵提醒费尔利先生,假如她再逃出来,很可能要给格莱德夫人的家人添乱子。

“回来的头一个月,我身体虚弱,什么也干不了。后来身体恢复了,我决定亲自去调查。首先,我准备去伦敦的精神病院找可怜的安妮·凯瑟里克谈谈,弄清楚为什么她要自称是劳拉。我知道地址,是你几个月前给我的。

“噢,沃尔特,我相信你能猜到接下来发生的事情。精神病院的院长看上去是个正直的人,他告诉我,安妮·凯瑟里克是7月27日被送回来的。他对凯瑟里克身上的变化感到很困惑,但他推测是由于精神方面的疾病造成的。然后,他叫一名护士带我去见安妮·凯瑟里克,她正在花园散步。

“想象一下,当时我有多么震惊,沃尔特——我看到自己死去的妹妹在花园里朝我走来!我们跑向对方,紧紧地抱在一起,一句话也说不出来。护士不解地望着我们。”

“我很清楚你当时的心情,”我说,“我永远不会忘记在利默里奇教堂墓地……可是,你是怎么把劳拉救出精神病院的呢?”

“贿赂,沃尔特。我不想打官司,那样太冒险,也会耽误很长时间。所以,我对护士说,这里一定有严重的误会,如果她能帮助安妮·凯瑟里克逃走,就做了一件天大的好事。之后,我给了她400英镑。计划进行得很顺利,第二天刚过中午,我和劳拉就乘上了开往坎伯兰郡的火车。”

“那么,劳拉呢?”我问,“她离开布莱克沃特庄园到伦敦后,到底发生了什么?”

玛丽安叹了口气,“噢,沃尔特,现在还不清楚。可怜的劳拉思维很乱,她的记忆不可靠。她连离开布莱克沃特的日期都记不起来。她能告诉我的就是,伯爵在车站接她,告诉她我还在伦敦,他要带劳拉马上去见我。她不记得车往哪里走了,但是很明显不是去伯爵在圣约翰伍德的家。她被带进一条小巷里的一间房子,那里人来人往,问一些她听不懂的问题。这时,伯爵告诉她我病得很严重,她听了非常害怕,几乎昏了过去。接着有人给了她一杯水,她说水的味道很怪,之后她就失去了知觉。”

“可怜的劳拉。”我低声自语着。

“她醒来以后,”玛丽安接着说,“发现自己在精神病院里,既不能离开,也无法同外界接触。别人叫她安妮·凯瑟里克,她发现自己穿着有安妮·凯瑟里克名字的衣服。别人告诉她格莱德夫人已经死了,被安葬了,她就是安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克……一天又一天,从7月27日到10月15日,他们强迫她认为自己疯了。难怪现在她思维混乱。”

“在利默里奇发生了什么?”我问道。

玛丽安把头转向一侧。“我简直不忍心想在那儿发生的事情。”她回答,“最糟的就是我带劳拉走进费尔利先生的房间后,他紧盯着劳拉的脸说:‘我侄女已经埋在利默里奇教堂墓地了。我不认识这个女人。赶快带她出去,不然我要用法律来保护自己了。’仆人们也对劳拉的身份很怀疑,因为她变化太大了,她的经历也让她思绪异常混乱。也许我们逗留的时间长一些,大家会被说服,但是我不想冒这个险,因为精神病院的人随时都会来找我们,所以我决定马上回伦敦躲起来。当我们经过教堂的时候,劳拉坚持要最后再看一眼她母亲的坟墓。后来……嗯,那一刻改变了我们三个人的生活。”

“我想是上帝在引导着劳拉的脚步。”我说。

我清楚地记得那天——可怜的劳拉将头依偎在我的肩头,充满了纯洁与信任。她说:“他们想叫我忘掉一切,沃尔特,但我还记得玛丽安,我还记得。”

*  *  *

针对劳拉的阴谋现在已经清楚了。安妮·凯瑟里克被当作格莱德夫人带进了福斯科伯爵的家里,格莱德夫人在精神病院里取代了那个已经死了的女人的位置。还有一点也很明显,福斯科伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士是不会放过我们三个的。他们两人从这个阴谋中得到30,000英镑。他们会尽一切可能不让他们的罪行败露,也会极力追寻他们所陷害的人,并把她同她的朋友们——玛丽安和我——分开。这就是为什么我选择伦敦一处既贫穷又拥挤的地方住下来,因为在一个人来人往的地方比较容易躲藏。

我们的生活很快形成了一个较为固定的模式——工作,留意我们的敌人,照顾劳拉。我们细心地照顾她,保护她,帮助她慢慢地恢复正常的思维和自信心。

与此同时,玛丽安和我开始了紧张的调查。我们仔细研究克尔先生记录的证词——分别来自医生以及伯爵家的仆人和厨师。我弄到了一份格莱德夫人的死亡证明。玛丽安给米切尔森太太写信,米切尔森太太回信说记不清劳拉离开布莱克沃特庄园的确切日期了,也记不清福斯科夫人来信通知他们劳拉死讯的具体时间了,那封信没有注明日期。

我还安排与克尔先生见面,请求他的帮助。听我把前因后果一一讲完后,克尔先生摇了摇头。

“作为律师,哈特里特先生,我认为你不会赢得这场官司。当然我同意,你和哈尔库姆小姐可以证明格莱德夫人还活着,但是你没有证据。如果你能证明死亡证明上的时间比格莱德夫人去伦敦的时间,那你可能会赢这场官司。”

我要离开的时候,他交给我一封信,是要他转给玛丽安的。同时,他在回答我的提问时透露,珀西瓦尔爵士已经回到伦敦了。

在外面的街道上,我很快注意到有两个人在跟踪我。我这才意识到伯爵的人肯定一直在监视克尔先生的办公室,以防玛丽安和我会到那儿去。我绕远路回家,设法甩掉了跟踪我的人,但是这件事提醒我今后要更加小心。

我把两个人跟踪我的事告诉了玛丽安,她非常担心。我把那封信交给她,她马上就认出了写信人的笔迹。

“是福斯科伯爵写的。”


亲爱的、尊敬的女士,请不要害怕!继续同你温柔的伙伴藏好,你们就不会有事。不要试图做任何事情,不要给任何人带来威胁。我请求你们,不要强迫我采取行动。如果哈特里特先生回英国来,不要同他接触。假如他找我的麻烦,他就死定了。福斯科。


“沃尔特!”玛丽安眼里闪着愤怒的光,“如果伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士落到你的手里,而你又必须放过他们中的一个的话,一定不要放过伯爵。”

“我要留着这封信,让它到时候提醒我应该怎么做,”我说,“明天我要去一趟布莱克沃特,查一查劳拉去伦敦的日期。这是他们阴谋中的一个漏洞。”

“你是说劳拉可能是在死亡证明上的日期之后才去伦敦的?”

“没错。我想她是7月26日动身的。精神病院的院长说她是27日被送进去的。我怀疑他们是否能让劳拉昏迷超过一晚上的时间。米切尔森太太说,珀西瓦尔爵士是和劳拉同一天离开的。我要问村里的每一个人,是不是还记得珀西瓦尔爵士什么时候离开的。”

“如果这样不行呢?”

“如果不行的话,玛丽安,我就逼珀西瓦尔爵士认罪。我们用他的秘密对付他,安妮·凯瑟里克说如果他的秘密让人知道了,那他就完了。我想查出他的秘密来。那个白衣女人虽说已经死了,但是还同我们在一起,她会为我们引路的!”

11
The investigation

The story of my first enquiries in Hampshire is soon told. Not a single person in the village of Blackwater could remember exactly when Sir Percival Glyde had left. Even the gardener at the house could only say it was some time in the last ten days of July.

'So, on to the next plan,' I said to Marian back in London, 'which is to pursue the secret. I need to talk to Anne Catherick's mother, but first I must find out something about her from Mrs Clements, Anne's friend. But how do I find Mrs Clements?'

Marian had the answer to that. 'You remember the farm she and Anne stayed at near Limmeridge? We'll write to them — they might know Mrs Clements' address.'

We were lucky. The farmer's wife did know the address, and wrote back by return to tell us. It was in London, not far from our rooms, and the next morning I was knocking at the door.

Mrs Clements was anxious to know if I had brought her any news of Anne, and very sad to learn that I had not. However, she was willing to tell me everything she knew.

'After leaving Limmeridge, sir,' she said, 'Anne and I went to live in the northeast of England, and that's when Anne started to suffer from heart disease. She wasn't at all well, but she insisted on travelling to Hampshire, because she wanted to speak to Lady Glyde. So we went there and stayed in a village near Blackwater — not too close as Anne was so frightened of Sir Percival.

'Each time Anne went to the lake to try to speak to Lady Glyde, I followed her at a distance. But the long walks made her so exhausted that she became ill again, so finally I went to the lake in her place to meet Lady Glyde. She didn't come that day, but a very fat man came instead with a message from her. The message was that we should return to London immediately, as Sir Percival would certainly find us if we stayed longer. Lady Glyde was going to London herself very soon and if we sent her our address, she would contact us.'

'But she didn't, did she?' I said, thinking how cleverly Count Fosco had lied to this kind woman.

'No, sir. I found lodgings and sent the address to Lady Glyde, but after two weeks we'd still heard nothing. Then one day a lady called in a cab. She said she came from Lady Glyde, who was staying at a hotel and wanted to arrange an interview with Anne. I agreed to go with this lady to make the arrangement, leaving Anne alone in our lodgings. But it was a wicked plot, sir. On the way the lady stopped the cab, saying she just had to collect something from a shop and would I wait for a few minutes. She never came back, sir. I waited for some time, and then I hurried home — and found Anne gone. Just disappeared.'

I asked Mrs Clements to describe this 'lady', and it seemed clear from her description that it was Madame Fosco. So I now knew how the Count had got Anne Catherick to London and separated her from Mrs Clements.

'I never found out what happened to Anne,' Mrs Clements said sadly. 'I made enquiries. I even wrote to her mother, but she didn't know anything. I miss poor Anne so much. She was like a daughter to me, you see, sir.'

'And I'm sure you were a kind mother to her,' I said. 'A better mother than her own mother.'

'That wasn't difficult,' said Mrs Clements. 'Mrs Catherick is a hard woman. She seemed to hate the child, and was only too pleased when I offered to bring her up. Then one day she took Anne to Limmeridge to stay with a sister, and after that she kept Anne from me. I didn't see Anne again till she escaped from the asylum — with your help, sir. And then she was always talking about a secret her mother had which could ruin Sir Percival. But you know, sir, I don't think Anne really knew what this secret was. If she had known, I'm sure she would have told me.'

I had wondered about that myself, and now I tried to turn the conversation on to Mrs Catherick.

'Did you know Mrs Catherick before Anne was born?'

'Yes, for about four months. We were neighbours in Welmingham. Mr and Mrs Catherick had just got married, and Mr Catherick had a job as clerk at Welmingham church. Before that, Mrs Catherick had been a servant at a large house. She was a selfish, heartless woman, and treated her poor husband very badly. Before long, there was a lot of talk about her and a young gentleman, who was staying at a hotel nearby. And Mr Catherick told my husband that he'd found expensive presents, gold rings and suchlike, hidden in his wife's drawer.'

'And who was this gentleman?' I asked.

'You know him, sir. And so did my poor dear Anne.'

'Sir Percival Glyde?' My heart began to beat faster. Was I getting close to the secret?

'That's right. His father had recently died abroad, and Sir Percival had just arrived in the neighbourhood. People thought, you see, that maybe Mrs Catherick had known Sir Percival before, and had married Mr Catherick just to save her reputation, because of, well, you know... Anyway, one night Mr Catherick found his wife whispering with Sir Percival outside the vestry of the church. They had a fight, but Sir Percival beat him and Mr Catherick left the village, never to return again. And in spite of all the talk in the village, Mrs Catherick stayed. She said she was innocent and that no one would drive her away. But most people thought that the money she lived on came from Sir Percival.'

The secret was here somewhere. But where? That Sir Percival was Anne's father was hardly a secret since everyone already thought that. No, there was another mystery somewhere.

'And what did you think, Mrs Clements?'

'Well, sir, if you worked out time and place, it was obvious that Mr Catherick wasn't Anne's father. But Anne wasn't at all like Sir Percival; and nor was she like her mother.'

I wondered about the house where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Perhaps I would make some enquiries later.

'You've been very kind, Mrs Clements,' I said, 'answering all my questions. One last request. Will you tell me Mrs Catherick's address? I have to find out this secret, and only she can tell me.'

Mrs Clements gave me the address, but shook her head. 'Take care, sir. She's an awful woman. You don't know her as I do.'

*  *  *

Back at our rooms I announced my intention to Marian of going to Welmingham. She was very uneasy about the plan.

'Are you sure it's wise, Walter? Sir Percival is a violent man.'

'I'm more afraid for you and Laura,' I said, 'left alone in London, with the Count as your enemy.'

We arranged to write to each other every day; and if no letter came from her, I would take the first train back to London.

*  *  *

Three days later I was standing in Mrs Catherick's sitting room, face to face with a grey-haired woman, dressed in black silk. Her dark eyes looked straight at me with a hard, cold stare.

'You say you have come to speak to me about my daughter,' she said. 'Please say what you have to say.'

Her voice was as hard as the expression in her eyes. She pointed to a chair, and looked at me carefully as I sat down.

'You know,' I said, 'that your daughter is lost?'

'I know that perfectly well.'

'Don't you worry that she might not be just lost, but that she might have met with her death?'

'Yes. Have you come to tell me that she is dead?'

'I have.'

'Why?'

She asked that extraordinary question without the slightest change in her voice, face, or manner. I might have been talking about the death of a cat in the street.

'I thought Anne's mother might be interested in knowing if she was alive or dead.'

'Just so,' she said. 'But what is your interest in her, or in me? Have you no other reason for coming here?'

'Yes, I do,' I said. 'Your daughter's death has caused someone I love to be harmed — by a man called Sir Percival Glyde.'

She did not react at all at the mention of his name.

'I want to make him confess to his crime. You know certain things about him from the time when your husband was the church clerk. I want you to tell me about them.'

At last I saw the anger burning in her eyes.

'What do you know about those events?'

'Everything that Mrs Clements could tell me.'

'Mrs Clements is a foolish woman.' She bit back her anger, and her lips curled in an unpleasant little smile. 'Ah, I begin to understand. You want your revenge on Sir Percival Glyde, and you want my help. That's why you've come here. Well, you don't know me. I've spent years getting back my reputation in this village. Now everyone respects me. I won't help you.'

'If you're afraid of Sir Percival, that's quite understandable,' I said. 'He's a powerful man, and comes from a great family —'

To my amazement, she suddenly burst out laughing.

'From a great family! Yes, indeed! Especially from his mother's side,' she said with disgust.

Whatever did she mean by that, I wondered?

'The secret between you and Sir Percival was not guilty love,' I insisted. 'It was something else that brought you and him to those stolen meetings outside the vestry of the church.'

As I said the words 'vestry of the church', I saw a wave of terror pass across her face.

'Go!' she said. 'And never come back. Unless' — and she gave a slow, cruel smile — 'unless you bring news of his death.'

*  *  *

It was now late, and I made my way to the nearest hotel. There was much to think about. Why should mention of the church vestry cause terror? Why the disgust at Sir Percival's family, especially his mother? Was there something unusual about his parents' marriage? Perhaps the local marriage register was kept in the vestry of Welmingham church...

The next day I went to the church. I had been aware of being followed the previous evening, and now I caught sight of the same two men I had seen outside Mr Kyrle's office in London. It seemed that Sir Percival had expected me to visit Mrs Catherick, and was now expecting me to visit Welmingham church — proof, surely, that my investigation was going in the right direction.

I found the church clerk, who fetched his keys and took me to the vestry. It could only be entered from the outside of the church, and the clerk had great difficulty opening the lock, which was very old. Once inside, I asked to see the marriage register. It was kept in a cupboard which could easily be forced open.

'Is that a safe enough place to keep the register?' I said.

'Safe enough,' the clerk said. 'A copy is kept by a lawyer in the next village — Mr Wansborough's office in Knowlesbury.'

I worked backwards in the register from Sir Percival's year of birth and there, under September of the previous year, squashed into a small space at the bottom of the page, was the record of the marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster of Knowlesbury. Just the usual information. Nothing apparently peculiar about Sir Percival's mother. The secret seemed further away than ever.

But on to Knowlesbury, and Mr Wansborough's office — a five-mile walk, but possible to get there and back by the end of the day. It was worth checking the copy of the register, and perhaps the lawyer would know something that might be useful.


pursue v. continue to investigate 继续调查

lodgings n. rooms rented for lodging in 租用的房子

bring up raise 抚养

heartless adj. unfeeling, pitiless 无情的

vestry n. a room or building attached to a church for keeping vestments in 教堂的法衣室

react v. undergo a change or show behaviour due to some influence 反应

bite back restrain 克制

burst out suddenly begin 突然做……

disgust n. strong aversion 不屑

make one's way to go to 到……去

catch sight of see, find 看到

11.调查

下面是我在汉普郡初步调查的情况。布莱克沃特村没有一个人记得珀西瓦尔爵士离开的确切时间。园丁也仅仅记得大概是7月下旬。

“那么,开始下一步行动吧,”回到伦敦我对玛丽安说,“查出那个秘密来。我需要找到安妮·凯瑟里克的母亲,但我必须首先找到安妮的朋友克莱门茨太太,从她那里了解一些情况。可怎么才能找到克莱门茨太太?”

玛丽安想出了办法:“还记得克莱门茨太太和安妮在利默里奇附近住过的农场吗?我们给他们写信,也许他们知道克莱门茨太太的地址。”

我们很幸运,农场主的妻子真的知道地址,她回信告诉了我们。她就住在伦敦,离我们住的地方不远。第二天上午,我就找到了那个地方,敲响了房门。

克莱门茨太太急切地想知道我是否带来了安妮的消息,当我告诉她没有的时候,她非常难过。不过,她愿意把她知道的一切都告诉我。

“离开利默里奇以后,先生,”她对我说,“安妮和我去了英国东北部,这个时候安妮得了心脏病。她身体很不好,但她坚持到汉普郡去见格莱德夫人。所以我们就去了那儿,住在布莱克沃特附近的一个村子里——那地方离布莱克沃特不是很近,因为安妮非常害怕珀西瓦尔爵士。

“每一次安妮到湖边去见格莱德夫人,我都在远处跟着她。但是走那么远的路让她非常疲劳,结果她又病了。最后我代替她到湖边去见格莱德夫人。那天格莱德夫人没有来,来的是一个很胖的男人,他捎来了格莱德夫人的口信,让我们赶快回伦敦,因为如果在这里呆久了,珀西瓦尔爵士肯定会发现我们。格莱德夫人自己很快也会到伦敦去,如果我们把地址给她,她会跟我们联系。”

“但是她没跟你们联系,对吗?”我问,心想伯爵对这个善良的女人说的谎真是高明啊。

“没错,先生。我找到了住处,把地址寄给了格莱德夫人,可是两个星期过去了,我们没收到任何回音。后来,有一天一位夫人乘马车到这里来。她说她从格莱德夫人那儿来,格莱德夫人住在一家旅店,想安排同安妮见面。我答应同那位夫人去安排见面的事,把安妮一个人留在住处。可这是个恶毒的阴谋,先生。走到半路,那位夫人说要去商店取点儿东西,让我等几分钟。她去了就再没回来,先生。我等了好一阵子,然后赶忙回家——回来后却发现安妮不见了。就这么消失了。”

我让克莱门茨太太描述一下那位“夫人”的样子,根据她的描述,那人很显然是福斯科夫人。现在我明白伯爵是怎么把安妮·凯瑟里克弄到伦敦,又怎么把她和克莱门茨太太分开的了。

“我不知道安妮到底出了什么事,”克莱门茨太太伤心地说,“我调查过,甚至给她母亲写过信,但是她什么也不知道。我现在非常想念可怜的安妮。你知道,她就像我的女儿一样,先生。”

“我相信你是她的好母亲,”我说,“比她的亲生母亲还要亲。”

“那倒没什么难的,”克莱门茨太太说,“凯瑟里克太太是一个铁石心肠的女人。她好像仇视这个孩子,我提出抚养这孩子时,她非常高兴。后来有一天她把安妮带到利默里奇同她的妹妹住在一起。再后来,她就不让我见安妮了。安妮从精神病院逃出来之前,我就再没见到过她。她逃出来还是你帮的忙呢,先生。从那以后,她—直说她母亲知道一个秘密,那秘密会毁了珀西瓦尔爵士。但是,先生,我觉得安妮并不真的知道那个秘密。如果她真的知道,我相信她早就告诉我了。”

我自己也想过这个问题。但是,现在我努力把话题转向凯瑟里克太太。

“安妮出生前,你就认识凯瑟里克太太吗?”

“认识,大概有四个月的时间。我们在韦明翰是邻居。当时凯瑟里克夫妇刚刚结婚,凯瑟里克先生在韦明翰教堂当职员。结婚前,凯瑟里克太太在一个大户人家当仆人。她是一个自私、狠心的女人,对她可怜的丈夫非常不好。不久,关于她和住在附近旅店的一个年轻人有了很多风言风语。凯瑟里克先生对我丈夫说,他发现他妻子的抽屉里藏着许多贵重礼物,金戒指什么的。”

“那个年轻人是谁?”我问。

“你认识他,先生。我可怜的安妮也认识他。”

“珀西瓦尔爵士?”我的心跳开始加速。我是不是接近那个秘密了?

“就是他。他父亲那时在国外去世,珀西瓦尔爵士刚刚到这里来。大家都说很可能凯瑟里克太太早就认识珀西瓦尔爵士,她和凯瑟里克先生结婚就是想挽救自己的名声,因为,嗯,你知道……不管怎样,一天晚上,凯瑟里克先生看到他妻子和珀西瓦尔爵士在教堂的法衣室外窃窃私语。他们打了起来。珀西瓦尔爵士打了他。之后,凯瑟里克先生就离开了那个村子,再也没回来。尽管村子里流言满天飞,凯瑟里克太太还是一直住在那里。”她说自己是清白的,谁也赶不走她。不过大多数人都认为她是靠珀西瓦尔爵士的钱维持生活的。”

秘密就在这里。可是到底是什么呢?珀西瓦尔爵士是安妮的父亲,这已经不是什么秘密了,大家早就这么想了。不对,这里一定还有隐情。

“那你怎么看,克莱门茨太太?”

“嗯,如果从时间和地点来看,很明显凯瑟里克先生不是安妮的父亲。但是,安妮一点儿也不像珀西瓦尔爵士,也不像她母亲。”

我想到凯瑟里克太太当仆人的那家,也许什么时候我可以到那儿调查一下。

“真是太谢谢了,克莱门茨太太,”我说,“你回答了我那么多问题。最后我还有个请求,你能告诉我凯瑟里克太太的地址吗?我必须查清楚这个秘密,只有她可以告诉我。”

克莱门茨太太把地址给了我,但是摇了摇头,“你要小心,先生。她是一个很可怕的女人,你没有我了解她。”

*  *  *

回到住处,我把要去韦明翰的想法告诉了玛丽安,她非常担优。

“你觉得这样好吗,沃尔特?珀西瓦尔爵士是个心狠手辣的人。”

“我更担心的是你和劳拉,”我说,“就你们两个留在伦敦,还要对付伯爵。”

我们商量好每天都互相写信,如果没有收到玛丽安的来信,我就搭乘最早的一班火车回伦敦来。

*  *  *

三天后,我已经站在凯瑟里克太太的客厅里了。我面前是一个头发灰白的女人,穿着黑色绸衣。她的一双黑眼睛冷冷地盯着我。

“你说你来跟我谈我女儿的事,”她开口说,“有什么话就请讲吧。”

她的声音像她的眼神一样冷。她指了指一把椅子,我坐下以后,她开始仔细地打量我。

“你知道,”我说,“你女儿失踪了吗?”

“我非常清楚。”

“难道你不担心她可能不光是失踪了,有可能她已经死了?”

“我想过。那你是来告诉我,她已经死了?”

“是的。”

“为什么?”

提出这样荒谬的问题,她的声音、表情和举止居然没有任何变化,就好像我刚才谈的是街上死了一只猫。

“我原以为安妮的母亲会关心她的生死。”

“就为了这个啊,”她说,“但是你为什么对她或我感兴趣呢?你到这里来没有其他原因?”

“有,”我回答,“你女儿的死使我所爱的人受到了伤害——是一个叫珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士的人干的。”

我提到了珀西瓦尔的名字,她一点儿反应都没有。

“我要让他承认他所犯下的罪行,你丈夫在教堂当职员的时候,你就知道了他的一些事,我希望你把所知道的告诉我。”

我终于在她眼里看到了愤怒的目光。

“你是怎么知道这些事的?”

“克莱门茨太太把她知道的都告诉我了。”

“克莱门茨太太是个愚蠢的女人。”她压下怒火,双唇勾起一丝恶意的微笑。“呵,我开始懂了。要向珀西瓦尔爵士报仇,需要帮忙。这就是你来这里的原因。你不了解我。我在这个村子住了这么多年,才挽回我的名誉。现在大家都很尊敬我,我不会帮你的。”

“如果你害怕珀西瓦尔爵士,那是可以理解的,”我说,“他是个有权势的人,出身名门——”

令我吃惊的是,她突然大笑起来。

“出身名门!是,没错!尤其是他母亲那一边。”她不屑地说。

她这话是什么意思?我不明白。

“你和他之间的秘密不是什么婚外情,”我接着说,“是别的事情使得你们在教堂的法衣室外秘密见面。”

在提到“教堂的法衣室”时,我注意到她的脸上掠过一阵恐惧。

“滚出去!”她大声喊着,“再也不要回来。除非”——她脸上慢慢露出残忍的笑意——“除非你来告诉我他死了。”

*  *  *

天色已晚,我朝最近的旅店走去。有许多问题需要思考。为什么提到教堂的法衣室她就害怕了?为什么她瞧不起珀西瓦尔爵士的家庭,特别是他的母亲?难道他父母的婚姻有什么特别的地方?也许当地的婚姻登记记录就存放在韦明翰教堂的法衣室……

第二天我去了教堂。我已经注意到前一天晚上有人跟踪我,这会儿我又看到在伦敦克尔先生办公室外见到的那两个人在跟着我。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士已经料到我要来见凯瑟里克太太,现在又料到我来韦明翰教堂——这些恰好证明我的调查方向是正确的。

我找到了教堂职员,他找来钥匙,带我来到教堂的法衣室。法衣室只能从教堂外面进去,职员费了好大劲儿才打开那把旧锁。进去以后,我说要看看婚姻登记记录。那些记录放在一个柜子里,柜子的门很容易被撬开。

“婚姻登记记录放在这里安全吗?”我问。

“很安全,”职员回答,“另一个副本存放在邻村的律师那里,就是万斯伯勒先生的办公室,在诺雷斯伯里。”

我从珀西瓦尔爵士出生那年的记录开始往前面查,在前一年的9月,有一页在靠下的角落里记着费利克斯·格莱德爵士和诺雷斯伯里的塞西莉亚结婚。只是非常一般的记录,看不出珀西瓦尔爵士的母亲有什么特殊的地方。秘密好像比以前离我更远了。

接下来,我奔赴诺雷斯伯里万斯伯勒先生的办公室——大约有5英里的路程,但是在天黑前赶回来还是可能的。很有必要查看一下记录的副本,也许律师会知道一些有用的信息。

12
The secret

Sir Percival's spies attacked me on the road to Knowlesbury. One of them came up beside me, and bumped into me with his shoulder. I pushed him away, hard, and he immediately shouted for help. The other man ran up and the two of them held me between them. The first man accused me of attacking him, and they said they would take me to the police station in the town.

What could I do? I couldn't fight both of them and hope to get away, so I had to go with them.

At the police station the first man accused me of a violent attack, and the second man said he was a witness. I was locked up until the next magistrate's court, which was three days away. I could be released on bail, I was told, but how could I, a total stranger in the town, find a responsible person willing to pay money for my temporary freedom? The whole plan was now clear — to get me out of the way for three days, while Sir Percival did whatever was necessary to prevent his secret being discovered.

At first I was too angry to think clearly. Then I remembered Mr Dawson, the doctor. I had been to his house on my previous visit to Blackwater, so I knew his address. I wrote him a letter, explaining what had happened and begging for his help, and then asked for a messenger to deliver it. Two hours later the good doctor appeared, paid the required money and I was set free.

There was no time to lose. The news of my being free would doubtless reach Sir Percival within hours. I hurried to the lawyer's office, where I asked if I could see the copy of the Welmingham marriage register. Mr Wansborough was a pleasant man and agreed to show me the copy. In fact, he was quite amused. No one had asked to see it since his father (now dead) had locked it away in the office more than twenty years before.

As I opened the register, my hands trembled. I turned the pages to the year and month. I found the names I remembered just before, and just after, the marriage of Sir Percival's parents. And between these entries, at the bottom of the page...?

Nothing! The marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster was not there! I looked again, to be sure. No, nothing. Not a doubt about it. Sir Percival must have seen the space in the Welmingham register and written in the marriage himself.

I had never once suspected this. He was not Sir Percival Glyde at all! His parents had not been married, so he had no right to the inheritance of Blackwater Park, no right to the rank of Baronet, no right even to the name of Glyde! This was his secret — and it was now mine to use against him!

The copy of the register would be safe enough in the lawyer's office, but I decided to go back to Welmingham and make a copy of the false record from the church register. It was dark now and I ran all the way to the church clerk's house. I knocked on his door, but when he appeared, he looked suspicious and confused.

'Where are the keys?' he asked. 'Have you taken them?'

'What keys do you mean?' I said. 'I've just this minute arrived from Knowlesbury.'

'The keys of the vestry,' he said. 'The keys are gone! Someone's broken in and taken the keys.'

'Get a light,' I said, 'and let's go to the vestry. Quick!'

We ran to the church. On the path we passed a man who looked at us with frightened eyes. He seemed to be a servant of some kind. We did not stop to question him, but ran on.

As we came in sight of the vestry, I saw a high window brilliantly lit from within. There was a strange smell on the night air, a sound of cracking wood, and the light grew brighter and brighter. I ran to the door and put my hand on it. The vestry was on fire!

I heard the key working violently in the lock — I heard a man's voice behind the door, raised in terror, screaming for help.

'Oh, my God!' said the servant, who had followed us, 'it's Sir Percival!'

'God help him!' said the clerk. 'He's damaged the lock.'

*  *  *

At that moment I forget the man's crimes and see only the horror of his situation. Several people are now running towards the church and I call to them to help me break down the door. We look desperately for something to use, and at last someone finds a long heavy piece of wood.

By now the flames are shooting up out of the window, and the screams have stopped. We get the wood into position and run at the door with it. Again, and again! At last the door crashes down, but a wave of heat hits our faces and drives us back — and in the room we see nothing but a sheet of living fire.

*  *  *

The church itself was saved as the fire engine arrived soon afterwards and managed to put out the fire before it spread. They carried out the body of Sir Percival Glyde and laid it on the wet ground. I looked down on his dead face and this was how, for the first and last time, I saw him.

He must have heard that I was free and on my way back to Welmingham, so he hurried to the church, stealing the keys and locking himself in to prevent anyone coming in and finding him. All he could do was tear the page out of the register and destroy it. If the false record no longer existed, I could produce no evidence to threaten him with. He must have dropped his lamp by accident, which started the fire. Then in his urgency to get out, the lock had become damaged and the key unmoveable.

I could not leave the town. There would be a legal enquiry into the accident the next day, which I had to attend, and in any case I had to report back to the police station in Knowlesbury. I returned to the hotel and wrote to Marian, telling her everything that had happened and warning her to keep the news from Laura for the moment. With Sir Percival's death, my hopes of establishing Laura's identity had also died, and I could see no way forward at present.

The next day an envelope with my name on was delivered to the hotel. The letter inside was neither dated nor signed, but before I had read the first sentence, I knew who had written it — Mrs Catherick.


Sir — I thought you were my enemy. Now that he is dead, because of you, I consider you my friend. To thank you for what you have done, I will now tell you the things you wanted to know about my private life.

Twenty-three years ago I was a beautiful young woman living in Welmingham, married to a fool of a husband. I also knew a gentleman — I shall not call him by his name. Why should I? It was not his own. I was born with expensive tastes. This man gave me expensive presents. Naturally he wanted something in return — all men do. And what did he want? Just a little thing. The key to the church vestry, when my husband's back was turned. I liked my presents, so I got him the key. I watched him in the vestry without his knowing, and saw what he was doing. I did not know then how serious a crime it was. I said I would not tell anyone about the marriage he had added to the register if he told me about his private life. He agreed — why, you will see in a moment.

He said that he only found out that his parents were not married after his mother's death. His father confessed to it and promised to do what he could for his son. But he died having done nothing. The son came to England and took possession of the property. There was no one to say he could not. In fact, the right person to claim the property was a distant relation away at sea. However, to borrow money on the property, he needed a certificate of his parents' marriage. This was a problem — a problem which brought him to Welmingham.

As his parents had mostly lived abroad and had had no social life in England, who was to say (the priest being dead) that a private marriage had not taken place at Welmingham church? His plan was to tear out a page from the marriage register in the year before his birth and destroy it. Then he would tell his lawyers in London to get the necessary certificate, innocently referring them to the date on the page that was gone. At least no one could say that his parents were not married.

However, when he saw there was a small space at the bottom of the page in the right year, he changed his plan and took the opportunity to write in the marriage himself. It took him some time, though, to practise the handwriting and to mix the right colour of ink, so that it looked the same.

After my husband caught me talking secretly to him and after their fight together, I asked my fine gentleman to clear my name and to say there had been nothing between us. But he refused. He wanted everyone to believe something false, so that they would never suspect the truth. He then told me that the punishment for his crime, and anyone who helped him, was life in prison. He frightened me! If I spoke out, I was just as lost as he was. He then agreed to make me a yearly payment if I said nothing and stayed in Welmingham, where he could always find me and where there was no danger of my making friends and talking. This was hard, but I accepted.

Many years later, when my daughter was with me at home, I received a letter from him which made me very angry. I lost control of myself and said, in her presence, that 'I could destroy him if I let out his secret'. Then one day he came to our house and called her a fool. Immediately she shouted, 'Ask for my pardon, now, or I'll let out your secret and destroy your life. 'My own words! He went white. Then he swore at us. It ended, as you know, by his shutting her up in an asylum. I tried to tell him she knew nothing. But he did not believe me. My daughter knew that she had frightened him and that he was responsible for shutting her up because he believed she knew his secret. That's why she hated him. But she never to her dying day knew what his secret actually was.

I will end by saying that you insult me if you think my husband was not my daughter's father. Please do not ask further questions about that. To protect myself, I mention no names in this letter, nor do I sign it.


magistrate n. an official conducting a court for minor cases 法官

bail n. money left with a court of law to prove that a prisoner will return when their trial starts 保释金

entry n. an item 条目

brilliantly adv. very brightly 非常亮

produce v. bring forward for consideration or inspection 拿出

12.秘密

在去往诺雷斯伯里的路上,珀西瓦尔爵士的人向我发起了攻击。其中一个走到我旁边,用肩膀撞我。我用力把他推开,他马上大喊起来。另一个人跑过来,他们两个把我夹在了中间。第一个人指责我打他,他们说要把我带到镇上的警察局去。

我能怎么办呢?我没办法打倒他们两个再逃走,现在只得跟他们走了。

到了警察局,第一个人说我打他,另一个人说他是证人。我被关了起来,等着三天后法官开庭审理。他们告诉我可以保释,可是我在这里一个人也不认识,怎么可能找到一个愿意负责的人出钱让我获得暂时的自由呢?他们的整个计划很清楚——让我消失三天,珀西瓦尔爵士就利用这段时间尽一切可能保证他的秘密不被发现。

刚开始,我非常气愤,头脑中一片混乱。后来我想起了道森先生,那位医生。上一次我去布莱克沃特的时候到过他家,所以我知道他的地址。我给他写了封信,告诉他出了什么事,请求他来帮我,然后找了一个送信的帮我把信送走。两个小时后,好心的医生来了,为我交了保释金,我自由了。

必须抓紧时间,因为我被释放的消息肯定几个小时之内就会传到珀西瓦尔爵士那里。我赶到律师的办公室,请求看一下韦明翰的结婚登记记录。万斯伯勒先生是个和气的人,他同意让我看副本。其实,应该说他很高兴,因为自从他父亲(现在已经去世了)20多年前把文件锁在办公室后,从未有人要求查看过。

我翻开记录副本的时候双手在颤抖。我找到了珀西瓦尔爵士父母结婚的年份和月份,以及在他们之前和之后结婚的男女方姓名记录。但是,在这些条目之间,在那一页的底下……?

什么也没有!费利克斯·格莱德爵士和塞西莉亚·埃尔斯特的婚姻根本就没有记录!为了保险起见,我又看了一遍。没有,什么也没有,毫无疑问。珀西瓦尔爵士可能在韦明翰的记录中看到了那个空白,然后自己填上了那条记录。

我从未怀疑到这一点。他根本就不是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士,他的父母没有结婚,他根本没有权利继承布莱克沃特庄园和爵位,甚至根本无权姓格莱德!这就是他的秘密——现在我要利用这个秘密来对付他!

婚姻登记的副本放在律师的办公室很安全,我决定返回韦明翰,复制一份教堂的假记录。天已经黑了,我一路跑到教堂职员的住处。我敲了门,职员出来的时候,脸上布满了疑虑。

“钥匙在哪儿?”他问我,“你把钥匙拿走了吗?”

“什么钥匙?”我说,“我刚从诺雷斯伯里过来。”

“法衣室的钥匙,”他说,“钥匙不见了!有人进来偷走了钥匙。”

“拿上灯,”我说,“我们去法衣室,快!”

我们向教堂跑去。路上碰见一个人,似乎是个仆人,他惊慌地看了看我们。我们没有停下来问他任何问题,而是继续向前跑。

当我们看到法衣室的时候,我发现从一个高处的窗户里发出很亮的光,夜晚的空气中有一股奇怪的味道,可以听到木头劈啪作响的声音,那光变得越来越亮。我跑到法衣室的门口,用手摸了摸门。法衣室起火了!

我听到钥匙在锁里使劲转动的声音——我听到门后有人害怕地高声喊救命。

“噢,上帝!”跟着我们跑过来的仆人说,“是珀西瓦尔爵士!”

“上帝啊,救救他!”职员说,“他把锁弄坏了。”

alt

*  *  *

这个时候,我忘记了这个人的罪恶,只想到他现在的危急处境。有几个人正朝教堂跑过来,我叫他们帮我把门弄开。我们到处找能弄开门的东西,最后有人找来一根很粗的长木头。

这时,火焰已经窜出了窗户,呼叫声已听不见了。我们抬着长木头,一次又一次朝门撞过去。最后门被撞倒了,热浪从屋里冲出来,使我们不得不往后退去——屋里除了一团火什么也看不见。

*  *  *

救火车很快赶到,没等火势蔓延就把火扑灭了,教堂本身没有受到破坏。人们把珀西瓦尔爵士的尸体抬了出来,放在潮湿的地上。我看了看他的脸,这是我第一次也是最后一次看到他。

他一定是听说我被放出来,而且正赶回韦明翰,所以急忙赶到教堂,偷了钥匙,把自己锁在屋子里,不让任何人进去发现他。他唯一能做的就是把那一页从登记簿上撕下来销毁。如果假记录没有了,我就拿不出证据来威胁他。他可能不小心把灯掉到地上,引起了大火。然后,他急着要出来,匆忙中弄坏了锁,钥匙转不动了。

我现在还不能离开这里。转天会有一个事故的法律调查,我必须参加。而且不管怎样,我还得向诺雷斯伯里的警察局报到。我回到旅店,写信给玛丽安,告诉她这里发生的事情,提醒她先不要把这个消息告诉劳拉。珀西瓦尔爵士死了,我证明劳拉身份的希望也不复存在,现在我不知下一步该怎么办。

第二天,一个写着我名字的信封被送到了旅店。里面的信既没有日期,也没有署名。但是还没看完第一句,我就知道是谁写的信了——凯瑟里克太太。

先生——我原以为你是我的敌人。现在因为你,他已经死了,我认为你是我的朋友。为感谢你的所作所为,我现在把你想知道的我的私事告诉你。

23年前,我是一个年轻漂亮的姑娘,住在韦明翰,嫁给了一位傻乎乎的丈夫。我还结识了一位绅士——我不会称呼他的名字。为什么要那样叫他?那不是他的名字。我生来就喜欢贵重的东西,这个人送给我许多贵重礼物,当然他是需要回报的——男人都是这样。这个男人要的是什么?很简单的一样东西。教堂法衣室的钥匙,当然要趁我丈夫不在的时候。我喜欢那些礼物,所以给他弄到了钥匙。我盯着他,看他在法衣室干什么,他并没发觉。当时我不知道那是多么严重的罪行。我跟他说,要是他告诉我他的私事,我不会告诉任何人他擅自增加结婚记录的事。他答应了——至于为什么,你往下看就明白了。

他说在他母亲死后,他才知道他的父母并没有结婚。他父亲承认了这件事,答应尽力为他儿子做些什么。可是他什么都没来得及做,就死去了。他的儿子来到英国继承了遗产。没人说他不能继承,实际上,真正应该继承遗产的是一个正在出海的远亲。然而,要想用那笔财产去借钱,他需要一份父母的结婚证明。这是个问题,为解决这个问题,他来到了韦明翰。

因为他父母大部分时间生活在国外,在英国没什么交际,所以谁会说(牧师已经死了)韦明翰教堂没举行过一场私下的婚礼呢?他的计划是把他出生前那一年的婚姻登记页撕下来销毁。然后,他就会告诉伦敦的律师们去取必要的证明文件,并假装不知情地把那个已经不存在的登记页上的日期告诉他们。至少谁也不会说他父母没结婚。

但是,他发现那年的登记页上靠下面有一点空白,于是改变了主意,趁机把他父母的婚姻写了进去。当然,他也颇费了些时间去模仿登记用的笔迹,还有配制合适的墨水颜色,让这条记录看起来跟其他的没有差别。

我丈夫看到我和他密谈,他们两个打了一架以后,我叫他帮我洗清名声,告诉别人我们之间什么也没发生,但是他拒绝了。他希望大家都相信并没有发生的事情,这样一来,人们就不会去想真相如何了。他还跟我说如果他的罪行败露,他以及帮过他的人都将被终生监禁。他让我害怕极了!如果我说出他的秘密,那我和他都完了。他答应每年支付我一笔钱,条件是我保持沉默,继续住在韦明翰,让他随时可以找到我,也免得我与人交朋友,然后乱讲话。虽说条件很苛刻,我还是答应了。

很多年以后,那时我女儿同我在一起,我收到他的一封信把我惹恼了。我无法控制自己,当着女儿的面说:“我把他的秘密说出去就能毁了他。”后来有一天,他来我家,管我女儿叫傻瓜,她一下子喊了起来:“赶快请求我原谅你,不然我就把你的秘密说出去,毁了你。”完全是我说过的话!他的脸一下子变白了。他向我们破口大骂。最后,你知道,他把她关进了精神病院。我试图告诉他,她什么也不知道。可是他不相信我。我女儿明白她使他害怕了,是他把她关进了精神病院,因为他认为她知道了他的秘密。这就是为什么她那么恨他。但是,她其实到死也不知道那秘密到底是什么。

最后我要说的是,如果你认为我丈夫不是我女儿的父亲,你就是污辱我。请不要多问了。为了保护我自己,信中没有提到任何名字,我也不会署名。

13
The threat

Mrs Catherick's extraordinary and shameless letter filled me with disgust. My interest in Sir Percival Glyde's crime was now at an end, but I decided to keep the letter in case it might help me find out who Anne's father really was.

Later in the morning I went to the legal enquiry into Sir Percival's death. I was only asked to say what had happened. I was not asked how I thought the keys had been taken, how the fire had been caused, or why Sir Percival had gone into the vestry. As no one could explain any of these things, the verdict at the end of the enquiry was 'death by accident'.

Afterwards, a gentleman who was also at the enquiry walked back to the hotel with me. He had heard from Sir Percival's lawyer that a distant relation abroad would now inherit Blackwater Park. This was obviously the person who should have inherited it twenty-three years before. If I made Sir Percival's crime public, it would be to no one's advantage now. If I kept the secret, the true character of the man who had cheated Laura into marrying him would remain hidden. And for her sake, I wished to keep it hidden.

I still could not leave Hampshire, as I had to report to the police station in Knowlesbury the next day. I spent another night at the hotel and in the morning went to the post office to collect the letter from Marian. As promised, we had written to each other every day, and Marian's letters had been full of cheerful news. This morning's letter was short, and terrified me.


Come back as soon as you can. We have had to move. Come to Gower's Walk, Fulham (number five). I will look out for you. Don't be alarmed about us, we are both safe and well. But come back. — Marian


What had happened? What dreadful thing had Count Fosco done while I was away? In spite of my anxiety, I had to wait. I paid my bill at the hotel and took a cab to Knowlesbury.

At the police station, as I expected, no one appeared to continue the action against me and I was allowed to go. Half an hour later I was on the train back to London.

I got to Gower's Walk in Fulham at about nine o'clock. Both Laura and Marian came to the door to let me in. Laura was much brighter and happier, full of plans for the future and for her drawing and painting. Marian's face was tired and anxious. I could see that she had spared Laura the knowledge of the terrible death in Welmingham and the true reason for moving to new lodgings. When Laura had left us and we could speak freely, I tried to give some expression to my feelings and told Marian how much I admired her for the courage and love she had shown.

She was too generous to listen to me, and turned the conversation to my worries.

'I'm so sorry for my letter — it must have alarmed you.'

'Yes, it did,' I admitted. 'Was I right in thinking that you moved because of a threat by Count Fosco?'

'Perfectly right,' she said. 'I saw him yesterday, and worse than that, Walter — I spoke to him.'

'Spoke to him? Did he come to the house?'

'He did. Yesterday, when I was passing the window, I saw him in the street. Then there was a knock on the door. I rushed out and there he was, dressed in black, with his smooth face and his deadly smile. I closed the door behind me so that Laura would not see or hear him.'

'What did he say?' I asked anxiously.

'He greeted me, then repeated the warning in his letter to me. He said he had not been able to prevent Sir Percival's violence towards you, and he had found out our address in order to protect his own interests. You were followed, Walter, on your return home after your first journey to Hampshire. He used this information only when he heard of Sir Percival's death, because he believed you would act against him next.'

'And he was right,' I said. 'What did he say about me?'

'He was very cool, very polite, and very threatening,' said Marian. 'He said, "Warn Mr Hartright! He has an intelligent and powerful man to deal with. Let him be content with what he has got. Say to him, if he attacks me, I will use all my power to destroy him. There is nothing I will not do. Dear lady, good morning." Then he just looked at me with his cold grey eyes, and walked away.

'I ran back inside, and told Laura we had to move. We needed a quieter neighbourhood with better air for the sake of her health. I said you'd wanted us to do that, and why didn't we do it now to surprise you when you got back. She liked that idea, and was quite happy to move. I found these lodgings through an old school friend. I did the right thing, didn't I, Walter?'

I answered her warmly and gratefully, as I really felt.

But the anxious look remained on her face, and I saw in her eyes her continuing fear of the Count's cleverness and energy.

'What do you think of his message, Walter? What do you plan to do next?'

'I decided weeks ago that Laura will be received in her uncle's house again,' I answered. 'And my decision remains the same. Count Fosco will answer for his crime to ME.'

Marian's eyes lit up. She said nothing, but I could see how strongly she supported this plan.

'I know the risks are great,' I said, 'but it must be done. I'm not foolish enough to try this before I'm well prepared. I can wait. Let him think his message has produced its effect. He will start to feel safe. Also, my position towards you and Laura ought to be a stronger one than it is now.'

'How can it be stronger?' she asked, surprised.

'Marian, I would like you to say to Laura, gently, that her husband is dead.'

'Oh, Walter, so soon? You have a reason for this, don't you?'

'Yes. I cannot speak to Laura yet. But one day, not too distant, I want to tell her that I love her.'

Marian looked at me for a time, then gave a sad, gentle smile. 'Yes, I understand. I think I owe it to her and to you, Walter, to tell her of her husband's death.'

The next day Laura knew that death had released her from her marriage, and her husband's name was never mentioned among us again.

*  *  *

Our life returned to its usual pattern, but I did not forget the Count. I discovered that he had rented his house in St John's Wood for another six months, so I was fairly sure he would still be in London, within my reach, when the time came to act.

We finally solved the puzzle of who Anne Catherick's father was. When I went again to see Mrs Clements and to tell her about Anne's death, she remembered where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Her employer had been a Mr Donthorne.

We wrote to Mr Donthorne, who replied with some very interesting information. Philip Fairlie, Laura's father, had been a great friend of his when they were young, and a frequent house guest. He was a handsome man and fond of female company. Mr Donthorne was fairly certain that Philip Fairlie had been staying at his house when Mrs Catherick was employed as a servant, in the year before Anne was born.

When Marian and I checked the dates; when we considered that Anne and Laura looked so alike; and when we took into account the fact that Laura looked very much like her father, we were in no doubt that here was the solution. Philip Fairlie was Anne's father, and so Anne was Laura's half-sister.

Now, at last, the woman in white, that strange sad shadow walking in the loneliness of the night, could rest in peace.

*  *  *

Four months passed. Laura grew stronger in body and in mind. She was almost her old self, and when we talked, it was as we used to talk at Limmeridge. If I touched her by accident, I felt my heart beating fast, and I saw the answering colour in her face.

In April, we went for a holiday at the seaside. While we were there I told Marian that when we returned to London, I was determined to force a confession from Count Fosco — to make him tell me the real date of Laura's journey to London.

'But if I am to challenge the Count, for Laura's safety, I think I should challenge him as her husband. Do you agree, Marian?'

'With every word,' she said. 'I parted you both once. Wait here, my brother, my best and dearest friend! Till Laura comes, and tells you what I have done now!'

She kissed my forehead and left the room. I waited by the window, staring out at the beach, seeing nothing, hardly able to breathe. The door opened, and Laura came in alone. When we parted at Limmeridge, she had come into the room slowly, in sorrow and hesitation. Now she ran to me, with the light of happiness shining in her face. She put her arms around me, and her sweet lips came to meet mine.

'My darling!' she whispered, 'May we say we love each other now? Oh, I am so happy at last!'

Ten days later we were even happier. We were married.


verdict n. a decision; a judgment 结论

spare somebody the knowledge of keeping somebody from knowing 不让某人知道……

deadly adj. horrible 可怕的

answer for be responsible 受到惩罚

fairly adv. to a noticeable degree 相当地

13.威胁

凯瑟里克太太奇怪而又不知羞耻的来信使我对她充满了鄙夷。现在,我对珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行已经没有兴趣了,但我还是决定留着这封信,也许它会帮我找出安妮的父亲究竟是谁。

上午晚些时候,我去参加珀西瓦尔爵士死亡的法律调查。他们只让我说说发生了什么,没有问我如何看待钥匙为什么会被拿走,火灾是怎么发生的,或者为什么珀西瓦尔爵士会进到法衣室去。没有人能够解释这些问题,所以调查的最终结论是“意外死亡”。

之后,一位也参加了调查的男子和我一起走回旅店。他从珀西瓦尔爵士的律师那里得知,一个国外的远亲现在要来继承布莱克沃特庄园。很明显,这就是23年前应该继承庄园的那个人。假如我把珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行公之于众,现在对谁都没有好处。假如我不把秘密说出去,这个欺骗劳拉与之结婚的人的真正人品就不会有人知道。但为了劳拉,我愿意保守这个秘密。

我还不能离开汉普郡,因为转天还要去诺雷斯伯里警察局。我在旅店又住了一晚。第二天一早,我去邮局取玛丽安的来信。我们按约定每天通信。玛丽安的来信一直都是好消息。今天早上的来信很短,但却令我害怕。


请尽快回来。我们不得不搬了家。到富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街(5号)来找我们。我也会留意等你。不必为我们担心,我们很安全。一定快回来。玛丽安


出了什么事?我不在的时候,福斯科伯爵又做了什么坏事?尽管非常担心,我还是得等。我付清了旅店的费用,叫了辆马车直奔诺雷斯伯里。

在警察局,不出我所料,没人来继续同我纠缠,我可以走了。半个小时后,我登上了返回伦敦的火车。

大约9点钟,我赶到了富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街。劳拉和玛丽安都到门口迎接我。劳拉的脸色比以前好多了,人也高兴多了,对将来和她的绘画有很多想法。玛丽安的脸上带着倦容和忧虑。看得出她没有把珀西瓦尔死在韦明翰的可怕消息和搬到新住处的真实原因告诉劳拉。劳拉走开以后,我们可以随便谈话了。我想告诉她我非常敬佩她的勇气和她对劳拉表现出的爱。

这位慷慨的姑娘没等我说完就把话题转到我的担忧上来了。

alt

“给你写那样的信,真是对不起——你一定很为我们担心吧。”

“是的,我的确很担心,”我说,“我猜你们搬家是由于福斯科伯爵的威胁,对吗?”

“一点儿不错,”她回答,“我昨天看见他了,更糟糕的是,沃尔特——我跟他说话了。”

“跟他说话了?他去你们的住处了?”

“是的。昨天,我从窗旁走过的时候,看见他在街上。过了一会儿,有人敲门。我马上跑过去开门,就是他,穿一身黑色衣服,光滑的脸上带着吓人的微笑。我关上了身后的门,这样劳拉就看不见他,也听不见他说话了。”

“他都说了什么?”我急切地问。

“他跟我打了招呼,然后再一次重复了他在信中对我的警告。他说他没能阻止珀西瓦尔爵士针对你的恶劣行为,他找到我们的住处是要保护他自己的利益。你第一次去汉普郡回来的时候就被跟踪了,沃尔特。他在听到珀西瓦尔爵士的死讯后才决定登门,因为他认为你下一个对付的目标就是他。”

“让他说对了,”我说,“他说我什么了?”

“他非常冷静而有礼,同时又非常具有威胁性,”玛丽安接着说,“他说,‘请警告哈特里特先生!他要对付的是一个有智慧、有权势的人。叫他对已经得到的东西知足吧。告诉他,如果他跟我对着干,我将不遗余力地干掉他。我会不择手段的。亲爱的小姐,再见。’然后,他用冷酷的灰眼睛看了看我,就走了。

“我赶忙跑进屋,跟劳拉说我们得搬家。为她的健康着想,我们需要一个更安静、空气更好的地方。我说你也希望我们搬家,为什么不现在就搬,等你回来给你一个惊喜呢。她喜欢这个主意,欢天喜地地同意了。我通过一个校友找到这个住处。我做得没错吧,沃尔特?”

我说她做得非常好,这是我的心里话。

但是,她脸上依然带着忧虑,从她的眼神里看得出,她还在害怕伯爵的精明和权势。

“沃尔特,你怎么看他的那些话?下一步你准备怎么做?”

“几星期前,我就决定让劳拉重新在她叔叔家得到应有的承认,”我回答,“现在我还是这样想的。我要让福斯科伯爵为他犯下的罪行付出代价。”

玛丽安的眼睛一亮,虽然没有说话,但是看得出她非常支持这个计划。

“我清楚这样做风险很大,”我说,“但这件事一定要做。我不会愚蠢到没做好准备就动手。我可以等。让他觉得他的话起了作用,认为已经平安无事了。另外,我跟你和劳拉的关系也该比现在更明确。”

“怎么个更明确法?”她吃惊地问。

“玛丽安,我希望你能心平气和地告诉劳拉,她丈夫已经死了。”

“噢,沃尔特,这么快就告诉她?你这样做是不是有什么原因?”

“是的,我现在还不能跟劳拉谈,但总有一天,不会太久,我会告诉她我爱她。”

玛丽安看了我一会儿,然后淡淡地、略带忧伤地笑了笑,“好吧,我明白。我想这是我欠你们的,沃尔特,我会把她丈夫的死讯告诉她。”

第二天,劳拉知道她丈夫死了,她也从这段婚姻中解脱了,那以后我们谁也没再提过她丈夫的名字。

*  *  *

我们的生活恢复了往常的模式,但是我没有忘记伯爵。我了解到他在圣约翰伍德的房子又续租了6个月,因此可以肯定,到了我采取行动的时候,他还会在伦敦,我还可以找到他。

我们终于弄清了安妮·凯瑟里克的父亲是谁。我又去见了克莱门茨太太,告诉她安妮已经死了。她记起凯瑟里克太太当仆人的地方。她的雇主姓多桑。

我们给多桑先生写信,他在回信中告诉我们一些非常有趣的信息。菲利普·费尔利,就是劳拉的父亲,年轻时和他是好友,也是他家里的常客。菲利普风流潇洒,喜欢女色。多桑先生非常肯定凯瑟里克太太在他家当仆人的那段时间,也就是安妮出生的前一年,菲利普·费尔利一直住在他家。

玛丽安和我算了算时间,我们想到安妮和劳拉如此地相像,想到劳拉如此地像她父亲,我们得到了非常肯定的答案。菲利普·费尔利是安妮的父亲,安妮和劳拉是同父异母的姐妹。

现在,那位白衣女人,那位在寂静深夜出现的古怪而哀伤的女人终于可以安息了。

*  *  *

四个月过去了,劳拉的身体渐渐强壮起来,头脑也慢慢清楚了。她几乎又是原来的她了。我们交谈的时候,感觉和当初在利默里奇谈话时一样。当我无意间碰到她的时候,我感到心跳在加速,而且我注意到她也脸红了。

4月,我们到海边度假。在那里,我告诉玛丽安,等回到伦敦,我一定要迫使福斯科伯爵说实话,让他说出劳拉回伦敦的真正日期。

“但是为了劳拉的安全,我想如果我挑战伯爵的话,最好以她丈夫的身份前去,你同意吗,玛丽安?”

“完全同意,”玛丽安说,“我曾让你们两个分开,你在这儿等我一下,我的好朋友!一会儿劳拉就过来,她会告诉你我这次是怎么做的,好吗?”

她吻了吻我的额头,走了出去。我在窗旁等着,眼睛望着海滩,却什么也看不到,我紧张得几乎喘不过气来。门开了,劳拉一个人走进来。我们在利默里奇分手的时候,她是慢慢地走进房间的,神情充满了痛苦和犹豫。这会儿,她跑向我,脸上闪耀着幸福的光芒。她张开手臂紧紧地拥抱我,用甜润的双唇吻着我。

“亲爱的!”她轻声说,“现在我们能对彼此说‘我爱你’了吧?啊,我终于得到幸福了!”

十天以后,我们的幸福又向前迈进了一步,我们结婚了。

14
The confession

A fortnight later, we returned to London, and I began to prepare for my battle with the Count. It was now early May and the rental agreement for his house ended in June. In my new happiness with Laura (to whom we never mentioned the Count's name), I was sometimes tempted to change my mind and to leave things as they were. But she still had dreams, terrible dreams that made her cry out in her sleep, and I knew I had to go on.

First, I tried to find out more about the Count. Marian told me that he had not been back to Italy for many years. Had he been obliged to leave Italy for political reasons, I wondered? But Marian also said that at Blackwater Park he had received official-looking letters with Italian stamps on, which would seem to contradict this idea. Perhaps he was a spy, I thought. That might explain why he had stayed in England so long after the successful completion of his plot. Who could I ask who might know something? Another Italian, perhaps — and I suddenly thought of my old friend, Professor Pesca.

Before I did that, I decided to have a look at the Count, as up to this time I had never once set eyes on him. So one morning I went to Forest Road, St John's Wood, and waited near his house. Eventually, he came out and I followed behind him as he walked towards the centre of London. Marian had prepared me for his enormous size and fashionable clothes, but not for the horrible freshness and cheerfulness and energy of the man.

Near Oxford Street he stopped to read a sign announcing an opera, and then went into the opera ticket office, which was nearby. I went over to read the sign. The opera was being performed that evening, and it seemed likely that the Count would be in the audience.

If I invite Pesca to the opera, I thought, I can point the Count out to him and find out if he knows him. So I bought two tickets myself, sent Pesca a note, and that evening called to take him with me to the opera.

The music had already started when we went in, and all the seats were filled. However, there was room to stand at the sides. I looked around and saw the Count sitting in a seat half-way down, so I placed myself exactly on a line with him, with Pesca standing at my side. When the first part finished, the audience, including the Count, rose to look about them.

When the Count was looking in our direction, I nudged Pesca with my elbow. 'You see that tall fat man? Do you know him?'

'No,' said Pesca. 'Is he famous? Why do you point him out?'

'Because I have a reason for wanting to know more about him. He's an Italian, and his name is Count Fosco. Do you know that name? Look — stand on this step so that you can see him better.'

A slim, fair-haired man, with a scar on his left cheek, was standing near us. I saw him look at Pesca, and then follow the direction of his eyes to the Count. Pesca repeated that he did not know him, and as he spoke, the Count looked our way again.

The eyes of the two Italians met.

In that second I was suddenly convinced that, while Pesca may not have known the Count, the Count certainly knew Pesca!

Not only knew him, but — more surprising still — feared him as well. The Count's face had frozen into a dreadful stillness, the cheeks as pale as death, the cold grey eyes staring in terror.

Nearby, the man with the scar also seemed to be watching with interest the effect that Pesca had had on the Count.

'How the fat man stares!' Pesca said, looking round at me. 'But I've never seen him before in my life.'

As Pesca looked away, the Count turned, moving quickly towards the back of the theatre, where the crowd was thickest. I caught Pesca's arm and, to his great surprise, hurried him with me after the Count. The slim man with the scar had apparently also decided to leave, and was already ahead of us. By the time Pesca and I reached the entrance, neither the Count nor the slim man was in sight.

'Pesca,' I said urgently, 'I must speak to you in private. May we go to your lodgings to talk?'

'What on earth is the matter?' cried Pesca.

I hurried him on without answering. The way the Count had left the theatre, his extraordinary anxiety to avoid Pesca, made me fear that he might go even further — and out of my reach.

In Pesca's lodgings, I explained everything as fast as I could, while Pesca stared at me in great confusion and amazement.

'He knows you — he's afraid of you. He left the theatre to escape you,' I said. 'There must be a reason, Pesca! Think of your own life before you came to England. You left Italy for political reasons. I don't ask what they were. But could that man's terror be connected with your past in some way?'

To my inexpressible surprise, these harmless words seemed to terrify Pesca. His face went white and he started to tremble.

'Walter!' he whispered. 'You don't know what you ask.'

I stared at him. 'Pesca, forgive me. I didn't mean to cause you pain. I spoke only because of what my wife has suffered from that man's cruel actions. You must forgive me.'

I rose to go. He stopped me before I reached the door.

'Wait,' he said. 'You saved my life once. You have a right to hear from me what you want to know, even though I could be killed for it. I only ask that, if you find the connection between my past and that man Fosco, you do not tell me.'

Then, his face still pale as the memories of the past crowded in on him, he told me the story.

'In my youth I belonged — and still belong — to a secret political society. Let's call it the Brotherhood, I can't tell you its real name. But I took too many risks and did something which put other members in danger. So I was ordered to go and live in England and to wait. I went — I have waited — I still wait. I could be called away tomorrow, or in ten years. I cannot know.

'The purpose of the Brotherhood is to fight for the rights of the people. There is a president in Italy, and presidents abroad. Each of these has his secretary. The presidents and secretaries know the members, but members don't know each other, until it's considered necessary. Every member of the Brotherhood is identified by a small round mark burnt into the skin, high up on the inside of their left arm.'

He rolled up his sleeve and showed me his own mark.

'If anyone betrays the Brotherhood,' he went on, 'he is a dead man. Another member, a distant stranger or a neighbour, will be ordered to kill him. No one can leave the society — ever.'

Pesca paused, then continued. 'In Italy I was chosen to be secretary. The members at that time were brought face to face with the president, and were also brought face to face with me. You understand me — I see it in your face. But tell me nothing, I beg you! Let me stay free of a responsibility which horrifies me.

'I do not know the man at the opera,' he said finally. 'If he knows me, he is so changed, or disguised, that I do not know him. Leave me now, Walter. I have said enough.'

'I thank you with all my heart, Pesca,' I said. 'You will never, never regret the trust you have placed in me.'

Walking home, my heart beat with excitement. Here at last, surely, was my weapon against the Count! I was convinced he was a member of the Brotherhood, had betrayed it, and believed that he had been recognized tonight. His life was now in danger. What else could explain his extreme terror at seeing Pesca?

And what would he do next? Leave London as fast as he could. If I went to his house and tried to stop him, he would not hesitate to kill me. To protect myself, I had to make his safety depend on mine. I hurried home and wrote this letter to Pesca:

The man at the opera, Fosco, is a member of your society and has betrayed it. Go instantly to his house at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. I am already dead. Use your power against him without delay.

I signed and dated the letter, and wrote on the envelope: Keep until nine o'clock tomorrow morning. If you do not hear from me before then, open the envelope and read the contents.

I then found a messenger, told him to deliver the letter and bring back a note from Professor Pesca to say he had received it. Twenty minutes later I had the note, and as I was leaving, Marian came to the door, looking anxious.

'It's tonight, isn't it?' she said. 'You're going to the Count.'

'Yes, it's the last chance, and the best.'

'Oh, Walter, not alone! Let me go with you. Don't go alone?'

'No, Marian. You must stay here and guard Laura for me. Then I will be easy in my mind when I face the Count.'

*  *  *

As I approached the Count's house, I passed the man with the scar on his cheek, whom I had noticed earlier at the opera. What was he doing here, I wondered?

I sent in my card, and I still do not know why the Count let me into his house at half past eleven at night. Was he just curious to see me? He would not have known that I was at the opera with Pesca, and I suppose he thought he had nothing to fear from me.

He was still in his evening suit, and there was a travelling case on the floor, with books, papers, and clothes all around him. My guess had been right.

'You come here on business, Mr Hartright?' he said, looking at me with curiosity. 'I cannot think what that might be.'

'You are obviously preparing for a journey,' I said. 'That is my business. I know why you are leaving London.'

'So you know why I am leaving London?' He went over to a table and opened a drawer.' Tell me the reason, if you please.'

'I can show you the reason,' I said. 'Roll up the sleeve on your left arm, and you will see it.'

His cold grey eyes stared into mine. There was a long heartbeat of silence. I was as certain as if I had seen it that he had a gun hidden in the drawer, and that my life hung by a thread.

'Wait a little,' I said. 'Before you act, I advise you to read this note.' Moving slowly and carefully, I passed him Pesca's note.

He read the lines aloud.

Your letter is received. If I don't hear from you before nine o'clock, I will open the envelope when the clock strikes.

Another man might have needed an explanation, but not the Count. His expression changed, and he closed the drawer.

'You are cleverer than I thought,' he said. 'I cannot leave before nine as I have to wait for a passport to be delivered. Your information may be true or may be false — where did you get it?'

'I refuse to tell you.'

'And that unsigned note you showed me — who wrote it?'

'A man whom you have every reason to fear.'

A pause. 'What do you want of me, Mr Hartright? Is it to do with a lady, perhaps?'

'Yes, my wife,' I answered.

He looked at me in real amazement, and I saw at once that he no longer considered me a dangerous man. He folded his arms and listened to me with a cold smile.

'You are guilty of a wicked crime,' I went on. 'But you can keep the money. All I want is a signed confession of the plot and a proof of the date my wife travelled to London.'

'Good!' he said. 'Those are your conditions; here are mine. One, Madame Fosco and I leave the house when we please and you do not try to stop us. Two, you wait here until my agent comes early tomorrow morning and you give him an order to get back your letter unopened. You then allow us half an hour to leave the house. Three, you agree to fight me at a place to be arranged later abroad. Do you accept my conditions — yes or no?'

His quick decision, his cleverness and force of character amazed me. For a second I hesitated. Should I let him escape? Yes, the evidence I needed to prove Laura's identity was far more important than revenge.

'I accept your conditions,' I said.

At once, he called for coffee and sat down to write. He wrote quickly for quite some time. Finally, he jumped up, declared that he had finished and read out his statement, which I accepted as satisfactory. He gave me the address of the company from whom he had hired the cab to collect Laura, and also gave me a letter signed by Sir Percival. It was dated 25th July, and announced the journey of Lady Glyde to London on 26th July. So there it was. On 25th July, the date of her death certificate in London, Laura was alive in Hampshire, about to make a journey the next day.

The Count then called in Madame Fosco to watch me while he slept. Early in the morning his agent arrived and I wrote a note for Pesca. An hour later, the agent returned with my unopened letter and the Count's passport.

'Remember the third condition!' the Count said as he left. 'You will hear from me, Mr Hartright.' Then he and the Countess got into the agent's cab with their bags and drove away, leaving the agent with me to make sure I did not follow.

As I watched them leave, another cab went by and I saw inside the man with the scar on his cheek. What was his business with the Count, I wondered? I had seen him too often now for it to be chance. Perhaps I had fought my own battle with the Count just in time. You cannot get a signed confession out of a dead man.

While I waited for the agreed half hour, I read the document that the Count had written for me.


Statement by Isidor Ottavio Baldassare Fosco

In the summer of 1850 I arrived in England on delicate political business and stayed with my friend, Sir Percival Glyde. We both urgently needed large amounts of money. The only person who had such money was his wife, from whom not a penny could be obtained until her death. To make matters worse, my friend had other private problems. A woman called Anne Catherick was hidden in the neighbourhood, was communicating with Lady Glyde, and knew a secret which could ruin him. And if he was ruined, what would happen to our financial interests?

The first thing to do was to find Anne Catherick, who, I was told, looked very much like Lady Glyde and who had escaped from a mad-house. I had the fantastic idea of changing the names, places and lives of Lady Glyde and Anne Catherick, the one with the other. The wonderful results of this change would be the gain of £ 30,000 and the keeping of Sir Percival's secret.

I found Anne Catherick and persuaded her and her friend to return to London. I rented a house in St John's Wood for myself, and obtained from Mr Fairlie in Limmeridge an invitation for Lady Glyde to visit. For my plan to work, it was necessary for Lady Glyde to leave Blackwater Park alone and stay a night at my house on her way to Limmeridge. This plan was made easier by Miss Halcombe's illness. I returned to Blackwater Park, and when Miss Halcombe was out of danger, I got rid of the doctor and instructed Sir Percival to get rid of the servants.

Next, we sent Mrs Michelson away for a few days, and one night Madame Fosco, Mrs Rubelle and I moved the sleeping Miss Halcombe to an unused part of the house. I left for London in the morning with my wife, leaving Sir Percival to persuade Lady Glyde that her sister had gone to Limmeridge and that she should follow her, breaking her journey in London at my house.

On 24th July, with my wife's help, I got hold of Anne Catherick, and took her to my house as Lady Glyde. However, when she saw no one she recognized, she screamed with fear and, to my horror, the shock to her weak heart caused her to collapse. By the end of the following day, she was dead. Dead on the 25th, and Lady Glyde was not due to arrive in London till the 26th!

It was too late to change the plan. I remained calm and carried on. On the 26th, leaving the false Lady Glyde dead in my house, I collected the true Lady Glyde from the railway station and took her to Mrs Rubelle's house. The two medical men I had hired (shall we say) were easily persuaded to certify the confused and frightened Lady Glyde as mentally ill. Then I gave her a drug and had Mrs Rubelle dress her in Anne Catherick's clothes. The next day, the 27th, she was delivered to the asylum, where she was received with great surprise, but without suspicion. The false Lady Glyde was buried at Limmeridge. I attended the funeral with suitable expressions of deep sympathy.

One final question remains. If Anne Catherick had not died when she did, what would I have done? I would, of course, have given her a happy release from the prison of life.


tempt v. to make someone want to have or do something 引诱

contradict v. be in conflict with 与……相矛盾

perform v. act 表演

nudge v. push gently 轻轻地碰

inexpressible adj. that can not be expressed 难以说清的

disguise v. alter the appearance so as to conceal the identity 伪装

curious adj. eager to learn; inquisitive 好奇的

aloud adv. audibly 出声地

agent n. a person who acts for another in business, politics etc. 代理人

delicate adj. tricky 微妙的

fantastic adj. wonderful 绝好的

14.认罪

两个星期之后,我们回到了伦敦。我开始准备与伯爵的较量。现在是5月初,他租房的期限到6月。享受着与劳拉新婚的幸福(我们从未跟她提起过伯爵),有时我忍不住想改变主意,让一切都过去。但是劳拉仍会做梦,可怕的噩梦,她常常在梦里惊叫起来,因此我明白必须继续原来的计划。

首先,我想尽量多了解一些伯爵的事。玛丽安告诉我,他已经很多年没有回意大利了。我想,他是不是由于政治原因被迫离开意大利的呢?但是玛丽安又说,在布莱克沃特庄园他好像收到过贴着意大利邮票的官方来信,这两者是互相矛盾的。也许他是间谍。这样可以解释为什么他在自己的阴谋得逞后,还在英国逗留那么久。有谁能告诉我答案呢?也许该再找个意大利人问问——猛然间我想到了老朋友,佩斯卡教授。

去见佩斯卡教授前,我决定先去看一下伯爵,因为到目前为止,我还从来没有见过他。于是一天早上,我去了圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特大街,在他的住处附近等他出现。最后,他终于出来了,朝伦敦市中心走去。我在后面跟着他。玛丽安跟我提过他身躯肥胖,衣着入时,但我没想到这个人那么精力旺盛,神采飞扬。

在牛津街附近,他停住脚步看一个歌剧的海报,然后走进了不远处的售票处。我过去看了一下海报,发现演出就在晚上,伯爵很可能会出现在观众当中。

我想假如邀请佩斯卡来看歌剧,就可以把伯爵指给他,看他是否认识。于是,我自己买了两张票,给佩斯卡写了封短信,晚上找他一起去看歌剧。

我们进入剧院的时候,音乐已经响起来了,剧场里座无虚席。不过剧场两边还有站的地方。我环顾四周,看到伯爵坐在前面几排的座位上,于是我也站到了那一排,佩斯卡站在我旁边。第一部分演出结束了,观众们,包括伯爵在内,都起身向周围张望。

在伯爵朝我们这个方向看的时候,我用臂肘碰了一下佩斯卡,“看见那个高大的胖子了吗?你认识他吗?”

“不认识,”佩斯卡回答,“他很有名吗?你为什么让我看他?”

“因为我需要更多地了解关于他的情况。他是意大利人,叫福斯科伯爵。你听说过这个名字吗?来,站这个台阶上,你会看得更清楚些。”

一个瘦瘦的金发男子站在我们的旁边,他的左脸上有一道疤。我注意到他看了看佩斯卡,又顺着佩斯卡的视线看了看伯爵。佩斯卡再一次对我说,他不认识那个人,就在他说话的时候,伯爵朝我们这边看过来。

这两个意大利人的目光相遇了。

那一瞬间,我敢肯定地说,佩斯卡可能不认识伯爵,但伯爵一定认识佩斯卡!

不仅是认识,更令人惊奇的是伯爵害怕佩斯卡。伯爵脸上的表情凝固了,像死人一样毫无血色,冷酷的灰眼睛恐惧地盯着这边。

脸上有疤的人似乎饶有兴趣地在一旁看着佩斯卡对伯爵的影响。

“那个胖子怎么那样看着我!”佩斯卡说,转过头看着我,“我从未见过他呀。”

佩斯卡扭头的时候,伯爵转身快步向剧场后边走去,那里人最多。我一把抓住佩斯卡的胳膊,不顾他的惊讶,拉着他紧追伯爵。那个脸上有疤的瘦子显然也准备离开剧场,并且已经走到了我们的前面。等我和佩斯卡赶到入口,伯爵和那个瘦子都已经不见了。

“佩斯卡,”我赶忙说,“我必须和你单独谈谈,我们到你的住处去谈可以吗?”

“这到底是怎么回事?”佩斯卡大声说。

我没回答,只是催着他赶紧走。伯爵离开剧场的样子,还有他迫不及待地要躲避佩斯卡,使我担心他可能会逃得更远——我可能再也找不到他了。

到了佩斯卡的住处,我以最快的速度向他讲述了事情的经过,他充满迷惑和惊讶地望着我。

他认识你——他很怕你。他离开剧场就是要逃避你,”我说,“这其中一定有原因,佩斯卡!回忆一下你来英国以前的经历。你是由于政治原因离开意大利的,我不是问你那些政治原因,不过那个人如此惊慌会不会同你的过去有什么关联?”

令我非常吃惊的是,这些本来无关紧要的话好像令佩斯卡非常惊恐。他的脸色变得煞白,身体开始颤抖。

“沃尔特!”他低声说,“你不知道你问了什么。”

我两眼紧盯着他,“佩斯卡,请原谅。我不是有意要给你带来痛苦,我说那些话只是因为那个人给我妻子带来了巨大的伤害。请你原谅我。”

我起身要离开,还没走到门口,他叫住了我。

“等一下,”他说,“你救过我的命,你有权从我这里知道你想要知道的东西,即使这会要了我的命。我唯一的请求是,即使你发现了我的过去同那个福斯科的关系,你也不要告诉我。”

接着,他开始讲他的经历,过去的记忆卷土重来,令他脸色煞白。

“我年轻的时候参加了一个秘密政治社团,现在还是它的成员。我们姑且叫它兄弟社团,我不能告诉你真实的名称。我当时完成了很多出生入死的任务,也做了一些给其他成员带来危险的事,所以社团命令我到英国待命。我服从命令来了英国——一直在等——现在还在等。我可能明天就被召回,也许是10年以后。我不知道。

“兄弟社团的宗旨是为人民争取权利。它在意大利有一个主席,国外有很多主席。每个主席都有秘书。主席和秘书认识所有的成员,但除非在必要的情况下,成员们彼此都不认识。每个兄弟社团成员的左臂内侧靠上的地方都有一个很小的圆形烙印,这是他们的记号。”

他卷起衣袖,给我看他自己的烙印。

“任何人背叛了兄弟社团,”他接着说,“他肯定会被处死。其他成员,也许是一个他不认识的陌生人,也许是他的邻居,会奉命杀死他。任何人不能退出社团——永远都不可以。”

佩斯卡停了一会儿又说:“在意大利,我被选为秘书,所有的成员那时都被带来见主席,当然也就见到了。你明白了我的意思——我从你的表情看出来了。但是,什么也别跟我说,求你了!我不想做我必须做的事,我感到害怕。

“我不认识剧场的那个人,”他最后说,“如果他认识,那他一定跟以前变化很大,或者伪装了自己,让我认不出来了。你现在走吧,沃尔特。我说得够多了。”

“我衷心地感谢你,佩斯卡,”我说,“你永远不会为信任我而后悔的。”

走在回家的路上,我的心情激动不已。我终于找到了对付伯爵的武器。我敢肯定他原来是一个兄弟社团成员,后来背叛了社团,他认为自己今晚被认出来了。现在他的生命很危险。不然他见到佩斯卡为什么那样害怕呢?

那他接着会做什么呢?尽快离开伦敦。如果我去他的住处拦住他,他肯定会毫不犹豫地杀了我。为保护我自己,我必须让他的生命安全地攥在我的手里。我赶忙回到家,给佩斯卡写了一封信:

剧场的那个人,福斯科,是你们社团的一个成员,他背叛了社团。赶快到他的住处圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特街5号。我已经死了。请用你的力量立即干掉他。

我签了名,写上日期,又在信封上写道:等到明天上午9点。如果到那时还没有我的消息,再打开信封读里面的内容。

然后,我找了一个信使,叫他把信送走并带回佩斯卡的回复,说他已经收到信了。20分钟后,我拿到了回复的纸条。我刚要离开,玛丽安出现在门口,脸上露出担忧的表情。

“就是今天晚上吗?”她说,“你要去找伯爵。”

“对,这是最后的机会,也是最好的机会。”

“噢,沃尔特,别一个人去!让我跟你去吧,不要一个人去!”

“不行,玛丽安。你必须留在这里替我保护劳拉。那样,我面对伯爵的时候才会放心。”

*  *  *

快到伯爵住处的时候,我碰见了脸上有疤的那个人,早些时候在剧场就见过他。他在这儿做什么,我心里很纳闷。

我把名片递进去,我到现在也不明白,为什么夜里11点半伯爵还让我进去。他对我好奇,想见我?他并不知道我和佩斯卡同在剧场,我猜想他觉得我没有什么好怕的。

他还穿着晚礼服,地上有一个旅行箱,他周围满是书籍、文件和衣服。我猜的没错。

“你来这里有事,哈特里特先生?”他一边说,一边用好奇的眼光打量我,“我想不出会是什么事。”

“你像是在准备出门旅行,”我说,“这就是我来的原因。我知道你为什么要离开伦敦。”

“你知道我为什么要离开伦敦?”他走到一张桌旁,打开抽屉,“如果你愿意,说说为什么。”

“我可以让你看看为什么,”我说,“把你左边的衣袖卷起,就能看到。”

他那冷酷的灰眼睛一动不动地盯着我。接下来是一阵令人紧张的寂静。我就像亲眼所见一样清楚,那抽屉里藏着枪,我现在命悬一线。

“等一下,”我说,“你动手之前,我建议你看看这个纸条。”我慢慢地、小心翼翼地把佩斯卡的纸条递给他。

他出声读着纸条。

你的信收到了。如果9点以前没有你的消息,9点整,钟一响我就打开信封。

假如换作另外一个人,可能需要一些解释,但伯爵不需要。他脸上的表情变了,他关上了抽屉。

“你比我想的要聪明,”他说,“我9点以前走不了,我得等人给我送护照来。你得到的信息可能是真的,也可能是假的。你是从哪儿知道的?”

“我不会告诉你的。”

“你给我的没有签名的纸条是谁写的?”

“一个你非常害怕的人。”

他停了一会儿,“你要我做什么,哈特里特先生?是不是跟一位女士有关?”

“是的,是我妻子。”我回答。

他非常吃惊地看着我。看得出他不再认为我会给他带来危险了。他双手交叉抱在胸前,面带冷笑听我继续说下去。

“你犯下了严重的罪行,”我接着说道,“但是,你可以留着你得到的钱。我只要一个由你签名的认罪书,还有我妻子回伦敦的日期证明。”

“好!”他说,“这是你的条件,我的条件是:第一,福斯科夫人和我在我们愿意的时候离开这里,你不要阻止我们。第二,你呆在这里,明天一早我的代理人过来,你让他取回那封还没有打开的信。然后,你要给我们半个小时的时间离开这里。第三,你答应跟我在国外找一个地方决斗。你接受我的条件吗——是还是否?”

他的迅速决断,他的精干和意志力令我震惊。我犹豫了一会儿。我应该让他逃走吗?是的,证明劳拉身份的证据比复仇重要得多。

“我接受你的条件。”我说。

他随即叫人拿来咖啡,坐下开始写。他落笔如飞,写了很长时间。最后,他站起来,说他已经写完了并念给我听。我觉得还满意。他给了我他租车接劳拉的那家公司的地址,同时给我的还有珀西瓦尔爵士签名的一封信。信的日期是7月25日,里面说格莱德夫人将于7月26日启程去伦敦。这就是证据。7月25日,即死亡证明上宣告劳拉死于伦敦的日子,劳拉还在汉普郡活着准备第二天的旅行。

然后,伯爵把福斯科夫人叫进来,让她看着我,他自己去睡觉。第二天一早,他的代理人来了,我给佩斯卡写了封短信。一个小时后,代理人拿着我那封没打开的信和护照回来了。

“别忘了第三个条件!”伯爵临走时说,“你会收到我的信的,哈特里特先生。”说完,他和伯爵夫人坐上代理人的马车离开了这里,代理人留下来,确保我不跟踪他们。

我看着他们离开,这时另一辆马车驶过去,车里坐着那个脸上有疤的人。他和伯爵有什么瓜葛?我看到他好几次了,不应该是巧合。或许我跟伯爵的较量正是时候。他要是死了,我就没法得到他签名的笔录了。

在约定的半小时里,我读了伯爵写给我的认罪书。

伊西多·奥塔维奥·鲍尔德塞尔·福斯科的证词

1850年夏天,由于微妙的政治原因我来到英国,同我的朋友珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士住在一起。我们两人都急需一大笔钱。唯一拥有这笔钱的人是他妻子,但是他妻子不死,我们一分钱也得不到。更糟糕的是,我的朋友又遇到了别的麻烦事。一个叫安妮·凯瑟里克的女人藏在我们附近,她在同格莱德夫人接触,并且掌握着一个可以毁掉珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。如果他完蛋了,那我们的经济利益怎么办呢?

我们要做的第一件事就是找到安妮·凯瑟里克。我了解到她的长相和格莱德夫人极为相似。她是从精神病院逃出来的。我突发奇想,把格莱德夫人同安妮·凯瑟里克的名字、住处、经历互换一下。互换的结果既可以让我们得到3万英镑,又能够保住珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。

我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,说服她和她的朋友回伦敦去。我自己在圣约翰伍德租了房子,同时从利默里奇的费尔利先生那里得到了邀请格莱德夫人去看望他的信。要实现我的计划,必须让格莱德夫人一个人离开布莱克沃特庄园,在去往利默里奇的途中在我家里住一夜。哈尔库姆小姐的病让我的计划更容易进行了。我回到布莱克沃特庄园,等哈尔库姆小姐一脱离危险,就辞退了医生,并且让珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了所有仆人。

下一步,我们让米切尔森太太离开庄园几天。一天晚上,福斯科夫人、鲁贝尔太太和我把昏睡中的哈尔库姆小姐抬到了一个没有人住的房间里。转天一早,我和夫人赶往伦敦,留下珀西瓦尔爵士劝说格莱德夫人,让她相信她姐姐已经去了利默里奇,她也应该去找她,途中在伦敦我的家休息。

7月24日,在我妻子的协助下,我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,把她带到我的住处,假装就是格莱德夫人。然而,当安妮·凯瑟里克看到没有一个她认识的人时,吓得叫了起来。令我非常害怕的是,惊吓使她脆弱的心脏无法承受,转天她就死了。她是25日死的,可是格莱德夫人26日才能到伦敦!

改变计划已经来不及了。我尽量保持头脑冷静,继续着原来的计划。26日,我把已死的假格莱德夫人留在家里,到车站去接真正的格莱德夫人,带她到鲁贝尔太太家。我雇用的(可以这样说)两个医生很容易就被说服了,他们证明迷惑而惊恐的格莱德夫人患了精神病。而后,我给她吃了镇静药,让鲁贝尔太太给她穿上安妮·凯瑟里克的衣服。第二天,也就是27日,格莱德夫人被送进精神病院,那里的人非常吃惊,但没有人怀疑。假格莱德夫人被埋葬在利默里奇。我出席了葬礼,表现出应有的悲伤与同情。

还有最后一个问题,如果安妮·凯瑟里克没有死的话,我会怎么办呢?我当然很高兴帮她摆脱牢笼般的人生。

15
The proof

When the half hour had passed, I returned home. After a brief explanation to Laura and Marian, I hurried back to St John's Wood to find the cab-driver whom the Count had hired to collect Laura at the station. He wrote me a statement, which he and a witness signed, saying that on 26th July 1850 he had driven a Count Fosco to the railway station where they had collected a Lady Glyde. He remembered Lady Glyde's name, he said, from the labels on her luggage.

Then I went to Mr Kyrle's office and presented him with the proof of Laura's identity — the letter from Sir Percival, the statement by the cab-driver, the confession by the Count, and the death certificate. Amazed, he congratulated me, and agreed to accompany us to Limmeridge the next day, where I intended to have Laura publicly received and recognized.

Early the next morning Laura, Marian, Mr Kyrle and I took the train to Limmeridge. Laura and Marian stayed at first in a hotel while Mr Kyrle and I went to the house to deal with Mr Fairlie. He complained like a child, saying how was he to know his niece was alive when he was told she was dead? Between us, the lawyer and I made him sign letters calling all those who had attended the false funeral to come to the house the next day.

As I led Laura into her childhood home the following morning, there was a murmur of surprise and interest from the waiting crowd of villagers and neighbours. The business was soon done. I read out the story of the plot against Laura, and Mr Kyrle announced that everything I had said was proved by the strongest evidence. I put my arm around Laura, raised her up, and called to the crowd:

'Are you all agreed that this is the Laura Fairlie you knew?'

'There she is, alive and well — God bless her!' It was an old man at the back of the room who began it, and in an instant everybody was shouting and cheering together.

Later, in the churchyard, we watched a stone worker remove Laura's name from the gravestone. In its place he put this:

ANNE CATHERICK

25TH JULY 1850

We returned to London the following day, happy in the thought that the long struggle was now over.

*  *  *

Several days later Pesca came to see me, and asked for a quiet word in my ear. He had just returned from Paris.

'I have news for you, my friend,' he said. 'You need not worry any more about the man at the opera. His body was found in the river Seine yesterday and now lies in the morgue in Paris. He was killed by knife wounds to the heart.'

'Count Fosco is dead?' I said, amazed. 'Are you sure?'

'I saw the body with my own eyes. He was wearing a French workman's clothes, and had a different name, of course, but he was the fat man we saw at the opera that night. No question.'

'But how do you know this?' I asked.

Pesca hesitated. 'A man brought me some information,' he said. 'I had to see the body, and send a report about it.'

'A man,' I said. 'What kind of man?'

'A stranger,' said Pesca. 'I didn't know him. A man with a scar on his left cheek.' He saw the understanding in my face, and held up his hand. 'No more questions, my friend. Please!'

We never spoke about it again, but I think Pesca was telling me that the Brotherhood had taken their revenge. And so Count Fosco, that extraordinary, evil man, passed from this world.

*  *  *

The following year our first child was born — a son. Six months later my newspaper sent me to Ireland and, when I returned, I found a note from my wife saying she and Marian and little Walter had gone to Limmeridge House. She begged me to follow as soon as possible. Very surprised, I caught the next train. When I got there, Marian and Laura told me Mr Fairlie was dead and that Mr Kyrle had advised them to go to Limmeridge House.

Laura came close to me and I half realized some great change was happening in our lives.

'Do you know who this is, Walter?' Marian asked, holding up my little son, with tears of happiness in her eyes. 'This is the boy who will one day inherit Limmeridge House.'

So she spoke. In writing those last words, I have written everything. Marian was the good friend of our lives — let Marian end our story.


label n. a small piece of paper, card etc. attached to an object and giving information about it 标签

congratulate v. express pleasure at the happiness or good fortune or excellence of a person 祝贺

morgue n. a room or building in which dead bodies may be kept until burial or cremation 停尸间

15.证据

alt

那半个小时过去了,我回到家里。简单地向劳拉和玛丽安说明了情况后,我立即赶回圣约翰伍德去找那个伯爵雇来到车站接劳拉的车夫。那人给我写了份证词,他和另一个证人都签了字。证词说,1850年7月26日他驾车送福斯科伯爵去车站,接了一位格莱德夫人。他说还记得格莱德夫人的名字,是在行李标签上看到的。

然后,我去了克尔先生的办公室,给他看了证明劳拉身份的证据——珀西瓦尔爵士的信、马车夫的证词、伯爵的认罪书和那份死亡证明。克尔先生很吃惊,接着向我表示祝贺并且答应第二天陪我们到利默里奇,我准备让人们公开地接受和认可劳拉。

转天的一大早,劳拉、玛丽安、克尔先生和我乘火车前往利默里奇。劳拉和玛丽安先在一家旅店里休息,克尔先生和我去庄园与费尔利先生交涉。费尔利先生像孩子一样抱怨说,有人告诉他他侄女死了,他怎么会知道他侄女还活着?在只有我们三个人的情况下,克尔先生和我让他在事先准备好的信上签字,邀请所有参加那场假葬礼的人第二天到费尔利家来。

第二天早晨,当我带着劳拉走进她儿时的家时,等候在那里的村民和邻居们发出惊奇的低语声。很快我们进入了正题。我大声宣读了针对劳拉的罪恶阴谋的全过程,克尔先生当众宣布我说的每一件事都证据确凿。我搂住劳拉,扶她起来,高声对众人说:

“你们说这是不是你们认识的劳拉·费尔利?”

“是她,她还好好地活着——上帝保佑她!”一位站在屋子后面的老人首先说,其他人也都立刻欢呼起来。

后来,在教堂墓地里,我们亲眼看着一位石匠把劳拉的名字从墓碑上凿去,在原来的地方刻上:

安妮·凯瑟里克

卒于1850年7月25日

转天,我们返回了伦敦,想到漫长的斗争终于结束了,我们都非常高兴。

*  *  *

过了几天,佩斯卡来看我,要跟我单独聊聊。他刚从巴黎回来。

“我有重要的消息要告诉你,我的朋友,”他说,“你不用再担心剧场里的那个人了,昨天在塞纳河发现了他的尸体,现在他的尸体停放在巴黎的停尸间。他是被人用刀子刺进心脏而死的。”

“福斯科伯爵已经死了?”我吃惊地问,“你能肯定吗?”

“我亲眼看了他的尸体,他穿着法国工人的制服,当然也换了名字,但他就是那天晚上我们在剧场见到的那个胖子。一点儿没错。”

“可你是怎么知道这个消息的呢?”我问。

佩斯卡犹豫了一下。“有人告诉我的,”他说,“我必须亲眼看到他的尸体,然后发一个报告。”

“有人,”我说,“是什么人?”

“一个陌生人,”佩斯卡回答,“我不认识那个人,他的左脸上有一道疤。”看到我脸上了然的表情,他抬了抬手,“请不要多问了,我的朋友!”

我们再没有提起这件事,不过我想佩斯卡是要告诉我兄弟社团已经采取了复仇行动。就这样,福斯科伯爵,那个能力不俗的恶徒从这个世界上消失了。

*  *  *

第二年,我们的第一个孩子出世了——是个儿子。6个月以后,我供职的那家报社派我去了爱尔兰。我回来的时候,看到妻子留给我的一封短信,信上说她和玛丽安还有小沃尔特去了利默里奇庄园。她让我尽快去找他们。我感到很惊讶,赶下一班火车去了那里。我到那儿之后,玛丽安和劳拉告诉我费尔利先生去世了,是克尔先生建议她们到利默里奇庄园去的。

劳拉走到我身边,我朦胧地意识到我们的生活将要发生什么大事。

“你知道这是谁吗,沃尔特?”玛丽安一边举起我的小儿子,一边问我,眼睛里充满了喜悦的泪水,“这个孩子将来有一天会继承利默里奇庄园。”

她就是这样说的。写完了最后几句话,我的讲述就到这里了。玛丽安是我们的终生好友——就让她结束我们的故事吧。

威胁

PART THREE
THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
第三部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

9
The gravestone

On 13th October 1850 I left the wild forests of Central America and returned to England. I had escaped death by disease, death by war, and death by drowning, and hoped that these experiences had strengthened me to face my future — a future without Laura Fairlie. I still remembered her as Laura Fairlie, and could not think of her by her husband's name.

The first thing I did was to visit my mother and sister in their Hampstead cottage. The joy of our meeting, however, soon turned to sadness. I have no secrets from my mother, and when I saw the loving pity in her eyes, I feared the worst.

The news was soon told. I tried hard not to let my sorrow spoil the happiness of my return for my mother and sister, but by the third day I knew I had to go away alone for a while.

'Let me go up to Limmeridge,' I begged my mother. 'I can bear it better when I have seen her grave.'

It was a warm autumn afternoon when I arrived at the station and walked down the familiar road, seeing in the distance the high white walls of Limmeridge House. In the churchyard I found the grave and knelt down beside the gravestone, closing my eyes.

Oh my love! My Love! My dear, dear Love!

Hours passed, and the evening sunlight threw long shadows among the sleeping places of the dead. I had lost all sense of time, kneeling there. Then, in the silence, I heard the soft sound of footsteps on the grass.

I looked up.

Beyond me, standing together by the churchyard wall, were two women, their veils down, hiding their faces. They were looking towards the grave, looking towards me.

Two.

They came closer, and stopped. One of them lifted her veil, and in the still evening light I saw the face of Marian Halcombe. A changed face. Thin and pale, full of pain and fear.

The woman with the veiled face came towards me slowly. Marian Halcombe sank to her knees, murmuring, 'Oh God, help him! Please, please help him, God!'

The veiled woman came on, slowly and silently. I looked at her — at her, and at no one else, from that moment. She had possession of me, body and soul. She stopped by the side of the gravestone, and we stood face to face with the grave between us.

'Oh God, help him, help him!'

The woman lifted her veil.

In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde...

Laura, Lady Glyde, was standing by the gravestone, looking at me over her grave.

*  *  *

A life suddenly changed. A new future before me, like the sunlit view from a mountain top. I leave my story in the quiet shadow of Limmeridge church, and begin again, one week later, in the noise and rush of a London street.

I have rented rooms under a different name. Marian and Laura, using the same name, are said to be my sisters. I earn our bread by doing drawings for cheap magazines. We employ no servant; my elder sister, Marian, does the housework with her own hands. Marian and I are known to be the friends of mad Anne Catherick (address unknown), who falsely claims the identity of Lady Glyde. To the rest of the world, Laura, Lady Glyde, is dead. Dead to her uncle, who has refused to recognize her; dead to the lawyers, who have passed her fortune to her husband and aunt.

But to Marian and me she is alive! Penniless and sadly changed — her beauty faded, her mind confused — but alive, with her poor drawing teacher to fight her battles and to win her way back to the world of living beings. She is mine at last — mine to support, to protect, to defend. And mine to love.


drown v. to kill by submerging and suffocating in liquid 淹死;溺死

strengthen v. make stronger 变得坚强

veil n. a piece of fabric attached to a woman's hat 面纱

earn one's bread earn one's living 维持生计

penniless adj. having no money 身无分文的

9.墓碑

1850年10月13日我离开中美洲的原始森林,回到了英国。我一次次逃过疾病、战争和洪水带来的死亡危险。我希望这些经历能够使我更加坚强地面对未来——没有劳拉的未来。在我心里她依然是劳拉·费尔利,我无法把她冠以她丈夫的姓氏。

我回来后的第一件事是到汉普斯特德看望母亲和妹妹。欢聚的快乐很快转化为悲伤。我没有任何秘密瞒着母亲,从她充满爱怜和同情的眼光里,我预感到最坏的事情发生了。

她们把消息告诉了我。我尽最大努力不让自己的悲哀破坏我回家带给母亲和妹妹的喜悦。但是,回来的第三天,我觉得必须一个人离开一段时间。

“让我到利默里奇去一趟吧,”我恳求着母亲,“看到她的坟墓,我可以更好地接受这一切。”

那是一个秋日的午后,天气很暖和,我到达目的地车站,走在熟悉的大路上,望着远处利默里奇庄园的白色高墙。在教堂墓地里,我找到了劳拉的墓,在她的墓碑前跪下来,闭上了双眼。

我的爱人我的爱人我最亲爱的人

几个小时过去了,落日的余辉在死者的安息地投下长长的影子。我跪在那里,完全没有了时间概念。这时,寂静中传来人走在草地上的脚步声。

我抬起头来。

不远处,教堂墓地的围墙边站着两个女人,面纱遮住了她们的脸。她们正朝墓地张望,正朝张望。

两个女人。

她们朝我走来。其中一个掀起了面纱,借着仅有的一点儿光线,我看出那是玛丽安·哈尔库姆小姐。她的脸变得跟从前不一样了:清瘦而苍白,充满了痛苦和恐惧。

头戴面纱的女人缓慢地向我走来。玛丽安·哈尔库姆跪下来,轻声说:“噢,上帝,帮帮他吧,帮帮他吧,上帝!”

头戴面纱的女人向我走来,缓慢地,无言地向我走来。我注视着她——目不转睛地久久注视着她。她占据了我的一切,我的灵魂和肉体。她在墓碑前停住脚步,我们隔着坟墓互相注视着。

“噢,上帝,帮帮他,帮帮他吧!”

那个女人掀起了面纱。

爱妻劳拉·格莱德夫人之墓……

劳拉·格莱德夫人,她就站在墓碑旁,隔着坟墓望着我。

alt

*  *  *

生活突然间变了。一个崭新的未来展现在我的面前,就像在山顶上看到的撒满阳光的景色。我把过去的故事留在了利默里奇教堂那寂静的阴影中,一星期后在喧闹、繁忙的伦敦开始了新的生活。

我换了一个姓氏租了房子。玛丽安和劳拉也用同样的姓氏,对外人就说是我的姐妹。我靠给廉价杂志画画维持生计。我们没有请仆人,我的姐姐,玛丽安亲自做家务。我和玛丽安对外就说是疯女人安妮·凯瑟里克(住址不详)的朋友,那疯女人总说自己是格莱德夫人。对世界上其他人来说,劳拉·格莱德夫人已经死了;对拒不承认她的叔叔,她已经死了;对把她的财产转给她丈夫和姑妈的律师,她也已经死了。

但是对于玛丽安和我,她还活着!她身无分文,人也变了——她的美丽在消逝,头脑一片混乱——但她还活着,她那可怜的绘画教师要为她奋争,使她重新回到真实的生活中来。她终于属于我了——由我供养、呵护、保护,由我所爱。

10
The rescue

At the first opportunity we had, Marian told me everything that had happened to her and Laura. The hardest part for her was after she had returned to Limmeridge House.

'I was in despair, Walter,' she said. 'Mr Kyrle's investigation was finished, and had shown nothing, he said. Mr Fairlie was no help at all — I heard that he didn't even leave his room to go to the funeral! But he did show me a letter he'd received from Count Fosco, which contained news of Anne Catherick. The Count said that Anne Catherick had been found and put back in the asylum from which she had escaped. But because she hated Sir Percival and wanted to make trouble for him, she was now claiming that she was not Anne Catherick at all, but Lady Glyde. The Count warned Mr Fairlie that if she escaped again, she might try to annoy members of Lady Glyde's family.

'I wasn't well enough to do anything for about a month after returning to Limmeridge, but when I felt stronger, I decided to make some investigations myself. First, I planned to visit the asylum in London and talk to poor Anne Catherick, to find out why she was claiming to be Laura. I knew the address because you had given it to me, all those months ago.

'Well, Walter, you can guess what's coming, I'm sure. The director of the asylum, who seemed an honest person, told me that Anne Catherick had been brought back on 27th July. He was puzzled by some odd personal changes in her, but assumed they were caused by her mental illness. He then called a nurse to take me to Anne Catherick, who was walking in the gardens.

'Imagine the shock, Walter — seeing my dead sister walking towards me in that garden! We just ran into each other's arms, unable to say a word. How the nurse stared at us!'

'I think I know how you must have felt,' I said. 'I shall never forget in the churchyard at Limmeridge... But tell me, however did you get Laura out of the asylum?'

'Bribery, Walter. I didn't want to risk a legal battle and all the delay that would involve, so I persuaded the nurse that a terrible mistake had been made and she would be doing a good thing in helping Anne Catherick escape. And I offered her £400. The plan went smoothly, and by early afternoon the next day Laura and I were on the train to Cumberland.'

'And Laura?' I asked. 'What actually happened on the day she left Blackwater Park and came to London?'

Marian sighed. 'Oh, Walter, it's not at all clear. Poor Laura's mind is so confused now that her memory of events is very unreliable. She can't even remember the date she left Blackwater. All she has been able to tell me is this. The Count met her at the station, and said that I was still in London and that he would take her to see me at once. She doesn't remember where the cab went, but it was clearly not to his house in St John's Wood. She was taken to a house in a narrow street, where people came and went, asking her questions she didn't understand. At this point the Count told her I was now very ill; she was so frightened by this news she nearly fainted. Someone then gave her a glass of water, which she said tasted odd — and after that she lost consciousness.'

'Poor, poor Laura,' I murmured.

'She woke up,' Marian continued, 'in the asylum, unable to leave, unable to make contact with the outside world. She was called by Anne Catherick's name and found she was wearing clothes with Anne Catherick's name on them. She was told Lady Glyde was dead and buried, and that she was Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick... Day in, day out, from 27th July to 15th October, she was made to feel that she was mad. It's hardly surprising her mind is so confused now.'

'And what happened at Limmeridge?' I asked.

Marian turned her face away. 'I can't bear to think about it,' she said. 'The worst part was taking Laura into Mr Fairlie's room. He looked straight into Laura's face and said, "My niece is buried in Limmeridge churchyard. I don't recognize this woman. Remove her from my house before I call on the law to protect me." Even the servants were doubtful about her identity, because she was so much changed and so confused by her experiences. Perhaps people would have been persuaded if we'd stayed longer, but I didn't dare risk it. At any minute the people from the asylum might come looking for us, so I decided to return to London at once and hide. Then, as we were passing the churchyard, Laura insisted on a last look at her mother's grave. And... well, that moment changed our three lives.'

'I think God was guiding Laura's footsteps,' I said.

How well I remember that day — that moment when Laura laid her poor head innocently and trustingly on my shoulder, and said, 'They have tried to make me forget everything, Walter, but I remember Marian, and I remember you.'

*  *  *

The plot against Laura was now clear. Anne Catherick had been taken into Count Fosco's house as Lady Glyde, and Lady Glyde had taken the dead woman's place in the asylum. It was also clear that the three of us could expect no mercy from Count Fosco and Sir Percival, who between them had gained £30,000 from the plot. They would do everything in their power to prevent their crime being discovered, and would hunt for their victim to separate her from her only friends — Marian and myself. This is why I had chosen a poor and crowded part of London to live in. It is easier to hide in a place where people are always coming and going.

Our life quickly took on a regular pattern — work, watching out for our enemies, and care of Laura, whom we surrounded with a gentle, protective love, helping her slowly but steadily to recover her balance of mind and her self-confidence.

Meanwhile, Marian and I began the battle. We studied the statements that Mr Kyrle had taken from witnesses — the doctor, and the servants and cook in Count Fosco's house. I obtained a copy of Lady Glyde's death certificate, and Marian wrote to Mrs Michelson, who replied, saying that she could not remember the exact date of Laura's departure from Blackwater Park. Nor could she remember when the letter announcing Laura's death, which was undated, had arrived from Madame Fosco.

I also arranged to visit Mr Kyrle, to ask for his help. After listening to my long explanation, the lawyer shook his head.

'My legal opinion, Mr Hartright, is that you won't win this case in a court of law. I accept, of course, that the identity of Lady Glyde as a living person is a proved fact to Miss Halcombe and yourself. But there is no evidence. If you could prove that the date on the death certificate was earlier than the date of Lady Glyde's journey to London, then you might have a case.'

As I left, he gave me a letter that had been delivered to him for Marian, and told me, in answer to my question, that Sir Percival Glyde had returned to London.

Outside in the street I soon noticed two men following me, and realized too late that the Count's spies must have been watching the lawyer's office, in the hope that Marian or I would go there. I went home by a very long route and managed to lose them, but it was a warning to me to be more careful.

Marian was very worried when I told her about the two men. Then I gave her the letter. She recognized the writing instantly.

'It's from Count Fosco.'


Dear and admirable woman, do not be afraid! Stay hidden, with your gentle companion, and nothing will happen to you. Challenge nothing, threaten nobody. Do not, I beg you, force me into action. If Mr Hartright returns to England, do not speak to him. If he crosses my path, he is a Lost man. F.


'Walter!' Marian said, her eyes flashing with anger. 'If ever the Count and Sir Percival are at your mercy and you must spare one of them, don't let it be the Count.'

'I'll keep this letter to remind me when the time comes,' I said. 'But tomorrow I will go to Blackwater, to try and find out the date of Laura's journey to London. It's the one weak point in their plot.'

'You mean that perhaps Laura did not leave for London until after the date on the death certificate?'

'Exactly. I think she left on 26th July. The Director of the asylum said she was taken there on the 27th. I doubt if they could have kept her drugged more than one night. We know from Mrs Michelson that Sir Percival left on the same day as Laura. I'll ask everyone in the village if they remember when he left.'

'And if that fails?'

'If that fails, Marian, I'll force a confession from Sir Percival. We have one weapon against him — his secret. Anne Catherick said that if his secret was known, it would ruin him. I intend to find out that secret. The woman in white, though dead in her grave, is still with us and is showing us the way!'


bribery n. persuading a person to act in one's favor by a gift of money or services 贿赂

unreliable adj. not liable 不可靠的

plot n. a conspiracy or secret plan esp. to achieve an unlawful end 阴谋

mercy n. kindness, pity, and willingness to forgive 仁慈

cross one's path meet sb by chance 与…偶然相遇

flash v. burst 闪烁

10.营救

我们刚一有机会交谈,玛丽安就把她和劳拉的遭遇从头到尾讲给我听。最令她难过的是回到利默里奇之后的经历。

“我太绝望了,沃尔特,”她说,“克尔先生的调查结束了,他说什么也没发现。费尔利先生一点儿忙也不帮——我听说他甚至都没离开他的房间去参加葬礼!不过他倒是把福斯科伯爵的信给了我,信里面有安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。伯爵说安妮·凯瑟里克已经找到了,被送回了原来的精神病院。但是,凯瑟里克因为痛恨珀西瓦尔爵士,想给他找麻烦,所以她现在自称不是安妮·凯瑟里克,而是格莱德夫人。伯爵提醒费尔利先生,假如她再逃出来,很可能要给格莱德夫人的家人添乱子。

“回来的头一个月,我身体虚弱,什么也干不了。后来身体恢复了,我决定亲自去调查。首先,我准备去伦敦的精神病院找可怜的安妮·凯瑟里克谈谈,弄清楚为什么她要自称是劳拉。我知道地址,是你几个月前给我的。

“噢,沃尔特,我相信你能猜到接下来发生的事情。精神病院的院长看上去是个正直的人,他告诉我,安妮·凯瑟里克是7月27日被送回来的。他对凯瑟里克身上的变化感到很困惑,但他推测是由于精神方面的疾病造成的。然后,他叫一名护士带我去见安妮·凯瑟里克,她正在花园散步。

“想象一下,当时我有多么震惊,沃尔特——我看到自己死去的妹妹在花园里朝我走来!我们跑向对方,紧紧地抱在一起,一句话也说不出来。护士不解地望着我们。”

“我很清楚你当时的心情,”我说,“我永远不会忘记在利默里奇教堂墓地……可是,你是怎么把劳拉救出精神病院的呢?”

“贿赂,沃尔特。我不想打官司,那样太冒险,也会耽误很长时间。所以,我对护士说,这里一定有严重的误会,如果她能帮助安妮·凯瑟里克逃走,就做了一件天大的好事。之后,我给了她400英镑。计划进行得很顺利,第二天刚过中午,我和劳拉就乘上了开往坎伯兰郡的火车。”

“那么,劳拉呢?”我问,“她离开布莱克沃特庄园到伦敦后,到底发生了什么?”

玛丽安叹了口气,“噢,沃尔特,现在还不清楚。可怜的劳拉思维很乱,她的记忆不可靠。她连离开布莱克沃特的日期都记不起来。她能告诉我的就是,伯爵在车站接她,告诉她我还在伦敦,他要带劳拉马上去见我。她不记得车往哪里走了,但是很明显不是去伯爵在圣约翰伍德的家。她被带进一条小巷里的一间房子,那里人来人往,问一些她听不懂的问题。这时,伯爵告诉她我病得很严重,她听了非常害怕,几乎昏了过去。接着有人给了她一杯水,她说水的味道很怪,之后她就失去了知觉。”

“可怜的劳拉。”我低声自语着。

“她醒来以后,”玛丽安接着说,“发现自己在精神病院里,既不能离开,也无法同外界接触。别人叫她安妮·凯瑟里克,她发现自己穿着有安妮·凯瑟里克名字的衣服。别人告诉她格莱德夫人已经死了,被安葬了,她就是安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克……一天又一天,从7月27日到10月15日,他们强迫她认为自己疯了。难怪现在她思维混乱。”

“在利默里奇发生了什么?”我问道。

玛丽安把头转向一侧。“我简直不忍心想在那儿发生的事情。”她回答,“最糟的就是我带劳拉走进费尔利先生的房间后,他紧盯着劳拉的脸说:‘我侄女已经埋在利默里奇教堂墓地了。我不认识这个女人。赶快带她出去,不然我要用法律来保护自己了。’仆人们也对劳拉的身份很怀疑,因为她变化太大了,她的经历也让她思绪异常混乱。也许我们逗留的时间长一些,大家会被说服,但是我不想冒这个险,因为精神病院的人随时都会来找我们,所以我决定马上回伦敦躲起来。当我们经过教堂的时候,劳拉坚持要最后再看一眼她母亲的坟墓。后来……嗯,那一刻改变了我们三个人的生活。”

“我想是上帝在引导着劳拉的脚步。”我说。

我清楚地记得那天——可怜的劳拉将头依偎在我的肩头,充满了纯洁与信任。她说:“他们想叫我忘掉一切,沃尔特,但我还记得玛丽安,我还记得。”

*  *  *

针对劳拉的阴谋现在已经清楚了。安妮·凯瑟里克被当作格莱德夫人带进了福斯科伯爵的家里,格莱德夫人在精神病院里取代了那个已经死了的女人的位置。还有一点也很明显,福斯科伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士是不会放过我们三个的。他们两人从这个阴谋中得到30,000英镑。他们会尽一切可能不让他们的罪行败露,也会极力追寻他们所陷害的人,并把她同她的朋友们——玛丽安和我——分开。这就是为什么我选择伦敦一处既贫穷又拥挤的地方住下来,因为在一个人来人往的地方比较容易躲藏。

我们的生活很快形成了一个较为固定的模式——工作,留意我们的敌人,照顾劳拉。我们细心地照顾她,保护她,帮助她慢慢地恢复正常的思维和自信心。

与此同时,玛丽安和我开始了紧张的调查。我们仔细研究克尔先生记录的证词——分别来自医生以及伯爵家的仆人和厨师。我弄到了一份格莱德夫人的死亡证明。玛丽安给米切尔森太太写信,米切尔森太太回信说记不清劳拉离开布莱克沃特庄园的确切日期了,也记不清福斯科夫人来信通知他们劳拉死讯的具体时间了,那封信没有注明日期。

我还安排与克尔先生见面,请求他的帮助。听我把前因后果一一讲完后,克尔先生摇了摇头。

“作为律师,哈特里特先生,我认为你不会赢得这场官司。当然我同意,你和哈尔库姆小姐可以证明格莱德夫人还活着,但是你没有证据。如果你能证明死亡证明上的时间比格莱德夫人去伦敦的时间,那你可能会赢这场官司。”

我要离开的时候,他交给我一封信,是要他转给玛丽安的。同时,他在回答我的提问时透露,珀西瓦尔爵士已经回到伦敦了。

在外面的街道上,我很快注意到有两个人在跟踪我。我这才意识到伯爵的人肯定一直在监视克尔先生的办公室,以防玛丽安和我会到那儿去。我绕远路回家,设法甩掉了跟踪我的人,但是这件事提醒我今后要更加小心。

我把两个人跟踪我的事告诉了玛丽安,她非常担心。我把那封信交给她,她马上就认出了写信人的笔迹。

“是福斯科伯爵写的。”


亲爱的、尊敬的女士,请不要害怕!继续同你温柔的伙伴藏好,你们就不会有事。不要试图做任何事情,不要给任何人带来威胁。我请求你们,不要强迫我采取行动。如果哈特里特先生回英国来,不要同他接触。假如他找我的麻烦,他就死定了。福斯科。


“沃尔特!”玛丽安眼里闪着愤怒的光,“如果伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士落到你的手里,而你又必须放过他们中的一个的话,一定不要放过伯爵。”

“我要留着这封信,让它到时候提醒我应该怎么做,”我说,“明天我要去一趟布莱克沃特,查一查劳拉去伦敦的日期。这是他们阴谋中的一个漏洞。”

“你是说劳拉可能是在死亡证明上的日期之后才去伦敦的?”

“没错。我想她是7月26日动身的。精神病院的院长说她是27日被送进去的。我怀疑他们是否能让劳拉昏迷超过一晚上的时间。米切尔森太太说,珀西瓦尔爵士是和劳拉同一天离开的。我要问村里的每一个人,是不是还记得珀西瓦尔爵士什么时候离开的。”

“如果这样不行呢?”

“如果不行的话,玛丽安,我就逼珀西瓦尔爵士认罪。我们用他的秘密对付他,安妮·凯瑟里克说如果他的秘密让人知道了,那他就完了。我想查出他的秘密来。那个白衣女人虽说已经死了,但是还同我们在一起,她会为我们引路的!”

11
The investigation

The story of my first enquiries in Hampshire is soon told. Not a single person in the village of Blackwater could remember exactly when Sir Percival Glyde had left. Even the gardener at the house could only say it was some time in the last ten days of July.

'So, on to the next plan,' I said to Marian back in London, 'which is to pursue the secret. I need to talk to Anne Catherick's mother, but first I must find out something about her from Mrs Clements, Anne's friend. But how do I find Mrs Clements?'

Marian had the answer to that. 'You remember the farm she and Anne stayed at near Limmeridge? We'll write to them — they might know Mrs Clements' address.'

We were lucky. The farmer's wife did know the address, and wrote back by return to tell us. It was in London, not far from our rooms, and the next morning I was knocking at the door.

Mrs Clements was anxious to know if I had brought her any news of Anne, and very sad to learn that I had not. However, she was willing to tell me everything she knew.

'After leaving Limmeridge, sir,' she said, 'Anne and I went to live in the northeast of England, and that's when Anne started to suffer from heart disease. She wasn't at all well, but she insisted on travelling to Hampshire, because she wanted to speak to Lady Glyde. So we went there and stayed in a village near Blackwater — not too close as Anne was so frightened of Sir Percival.

'Each time Anne went to the lake to try to speak to Lady Glyde, I followed her at a distance. But the long walks made her so exhausted that she became ill again, so finally I went to the lake in her place to meet Lady Glyde. She didn't come that day, but a very fat man came instead with a message from her. The message was that we should return to London immediately, as Sir Percival would certainly find us if we stayed longer. Lady Glyde was going to London herself very soon and if we sent her our address, she would contact us.'

'But she didn't, did she?' I said, thinking how cleverly Count Fosco had lied to this kind woman.

'No, sir. I found lodgings and sent the address to Lady Glyde, but after two weeks we'd still heard nothing. Then one day a lady called in a cab. She said she came from Lady Glyde, who was staying at a hotel and wanted to arrange an interview with Anne. I agreed to go with this lady to make the arrangement, leaving Anne alone in our lodgings. But it was a wicked plot, sir. On the way the lady stopped the cab, saying she just had to collect something from a shop and would I wait for a few minutes. She never came back, sir. I waited for some time, and then I hurried home — and found Anne gone. Just disappeared.'

I asked Mrs Clements to describe this 'lady', and it seemed clear from her description that it was Madame Fosco. So I now knew how the Count had got Anne Catherick to London and separated her from Mrs Clements.

'I never found out what happened to Anne,' Mrs Clements said sadly. 'I made enquiries. I even wrote to her mother, but she didn't know anything. I miss poor Anne so much. She was like a daughter to me, you see, sir.'

'And I'm sure you were a kind mother to her,' I said. 'A better mother than her own mother.'

'That wasn't difficult,' said Mrs Clements. 'Mrs Catherick is a hard woman. She seemed to hate the child, and was only too pleased when I offered to bring her up. Then one day she took Anne to Limmeridge to stay with a sister, and after that she kept Anne from me. I didn't see Anne again till she escaped from the asylum — with your help, sir. And then she was always talking about a secret her mother had which could ruin Sir Percival. But you know, sir, I don't think Anne really knew what this secret was. If she had known, I'm sure she would have told me.'

I had wondered about that myself, and now I tried to turn the conversation on to Mrs Catherick.

'Did you know Mrs Catherick before Anne was born?'

'Yes, for about four months. We were neighbours in Welmingham. Mr and Mrs Catherick had just got married, and Mr Catherick had a job as clerk at Welmingham church. Before that, Mrs Catherick had been a servant at a large house. She was a selfish, heartless woman, and treated her poor husband very badly. Before long, there was a lot of talk about her and a young gentleman, who was staying at a hotel nearby. And Mr Catherick told my husband that he'd found expensive presents, gold rings and suchlike, hidden in his wife's drawer.'

'And who was this gentleman?' I asked.

'You know him, sir. And so did my poor dear Anne.'

'Sir Percival Glyde?' My heart began to beat faster. Was I getting close to the secret?

'That's right. His father had recently died abroad, and Sir Percival had just arrived in the neighbourhood. People thought, you see, that maybe Mrs Catherick had known Sir Percival before, and had married Mr Catherick just to save her reputation, because of, well, you know... Anyway, one night Mr Catherick found his wife whispering with Sir Percival outside the vestry of the church. They had a fight, but Sir Percival beat him and Mr Catherick left the village, never to return again. And in spite of all the talk in the village, Mrs Catherick stayed. She said she was innocent and that no one would drive her away. But most people thought that the money she lived on came from Sir Percival.'

The secret was here somewhere. But where? That Sir Percival was Anne's father was hardly a secret since everyone already thought that. No, there was another mystery somewhere.

'And what did you think, Mrs Clements?'

'Well, sir, if you worked out time and place, it was obvious that Mr Catherick wasn't Anne's father. But Anne wasn't at all like Sir Percival; and nor was she like her mother.'

I wondered about the house where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Perhaps I would make some enquiries later.

'You've been very kind, Mrs Clements,' I said, 'answering all my questions. One last request. Will you tell me Mrs Catherick's address? I have to find out this secret, and only she can tell me.'

Mrs Clements gave me the address, but shook her head. 'Take care, sir. She's an awful woman. You don't know her as I do.'

*  *  *

Back at our rooms I announced my intention to Marian of going to Welmingham. She was very uneasy about the plan.

'Are you sure it's wise, Walter? Sir Percival is a violent man.'

'I'm more afraid for you and Laura,' I said, 'left alone in London, with the Count as your enemy.'

We arranged to write to each other every day; and if no letter came from her, I would take the first train back to London.

*  *  *

Three days later I was standing in Mrs Catherick's sitting room, face to face with a grey-haired woman, dressed in black silk. Her dark eyes looked straight at me with a hard, cold stare.

'You say you have come to speak to me about my daughter,' she said. 'Please say what you have to say.'

Her voice was as hard as the expression in her eyes. She pointed to a chair, and looked at me carefully as I sat down.

'You know,' I said, 'that your daughter is lost?'

'I know that perfectly well.'

'Don't you worry that she might not be just lost, but that she might have met with her death?'

'Yes. Have you come to tell me that she is dead?'

'I have.'

'Why?'

She asked that extraordinary question without the slightest change in her voice, face, or manner. I might have been talking about the death of a cat in the street.

'I thought Anne's mother might be interested in knowing if she was alive or dead.'

'Just so,' she said. 'But what is your interest in her, or in me? Have you no other reason for coming here?'

'Yes, I do,' I said. 'Your daughter's death has caused someone I love to be harmed — by a man called Sir Percival Glyde.'

She did not react at all at the mention of his name.

'I want to make him confess to his crime. You know certain things about him from the time when your husband was the church clerk. I want you to tell me about them.'

At last I saw the anger burning in her eyes.

'What do you know about those events?'

'Everything that Mrs Clements could tell me.'

'Mrs Clements is a foolish woman.' She bit back her anger, and her lips curled in an unpleasant little smile. 'Ah, I begin to understand. You want your revenge on Sir Percival Glyde, and you want my help. That's why you've come here. Well, you don't know me. I've spent years getting back my reputation in this village. Now everyone respects me. I won't help you.'

'If you're afraid of Sir Percival, that's quite understandable,' I said. 'He's a powerful man, and comes from a great family —'

To my amazement, she suddenly burst out laughing.

'From a great family! Yes, indeed! Especially from his mother's side,' she said with disgust.

Whatever did she mean by that, I wondered?

'The secret between you and Sir Percival was not guilty love,' I insisted. 'It was something else that brought you and him to those stolen meetings outside the vestry of the church.'

As I said the words 'vestry of the church', I saw a wave of terror pass across her face.

'Go!' she said. 'And never come back. Unless' — and she gave a slow, cruel smile — 'unless you bring news of his death.'

*  *  *

It was now late, and I made my way to the nearest hotel. There was much to think about. Why should mention of the church vestry cause terror? Why the disgust at Sir Percival's family, especially his mother? Was there something unusual about his parents' marriage? Perhaps the local marriage register was kept in the vestry of Welmingham church...

The next day I went to the church. I had been aware of being followed the previous evening, and now I caught sight of the same two men I had seen outside Mr Kyrle's office in London. It seemed that Sir Percival had expected me to visit Mrs Catherick, and was now expecting me to visit Welmingham church — proof, surely, that my investigation was going in the right direction.

I found the church clerk, who fetched his keys and took me to the vestry. It could only be entered from the outside of the church, and the clerk had great difficulty opening the lock, which was very old. Once inside, I asked to see the marriage register. It was kept in a cupboard which could easily be forced open.

'Is that a safe enough place to keep the register?' I said.

'Safe enough,' the clerk said. 'A copy is kept by a lawyer in the next village — Mr Wansborough's office in Knowlesbury.'

I worked backwards in the register from Sir Percival's year of birth and there, under September of the previous year, squashed into a small space at the bottom of the page, was the record of the marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster of Knowlesbury. Just the usual information. Nothing apparently peculiar about Sir Percival's mother. The secret seemed further away than ever.

But on to Knowlesbury, and Mr Wansborough's office — a five-mile walk, but possible to get there and back by the end of the day. It was worth checking the copy of the register, and perhaps the lawyer would know something that might be useful.


pursue v. continue to investigate 继续调查

lodgings n. rooms rented for lodging in 租用的房子

bring up raise 抚养

heartless adj. unfeeling, pitiless 无情的

vestry n. a room or building attached to a church for keeping vestments in 教堂的法衣室

react v. undergo a change or show behaviour due to some influence 反应

bite back restrain 克制

burst out suddenly begin 突然做……

disgust n. strong aversion 不屑

make one's way to go to 到……去

catch sight of see, find 看到

11.调查

下面是我在汉普郡初步调查的情况。布莱克沃特村没有一个人记得珀西瓦尔爵士离开的确切时间。园丁也仅仅记得大概是7月下旬。

“那么,开始下一步行动吧,”回到伦敦我对玛丽安说,“查出那个秘密来。我需要找到安妮·凯瑟里克的母亲,但我必须首先找到安妮的朋友克莱门茨太太,从她那里了解一些情况。可怎么才能找到克莱门茨太太?”

玛丽安想出了办法:“还记得克莱门茨太太和安妮在利默里奇附近住过的农场吗?我们给他们写信,也许他们知道克莱门茨太太的地址。”

我们很幸运,农场主的妻子真的知道地址,她回信告诉了我们。她就住在伦敦,离我们住的地方不远。第二天上午,我就找到了那个地方,敲响了房门。

克莱门茨太太急切地想知道我是否带来了安妮的消息,当我告诉她没有的时候,她非常难过。不过,她愿意把她知道的一切都告诉我。

“离开利默里奇以后,先生,”她对我说,“安妮和我去了英国东北部,这个时候安妮得了心脏病。她身体很不好,但她坚持到汉普郡去见格莱德夫人。所以我们就去了那儿,住在布莱克沃特附近的一个村子里——那地方离布莱克沃特不是很近,因为安妮非常害怕珀西瓦尔爵士。

“每一次安妮到湖边去见格莱德夫人,我都在远处跟着她。但是走那么远的路让她非常疲劳,结果她又病了。最后我代替她到湖边去见格莱德夫人。那天格莱德夫人没有来,来的是一个很胖的男人,他捎来了格莱德夫人的口信,让我们赶快回伦敦,因为如果在这里呆久了,珀西瓦尔爵士肯定会发现我们。格莱德夫人自己很快也会到伦敦去,如果我们把地址给她,她会跟我们联系。”

“但是她没跟你们联系,对吗?”我问,心想伯爵对这个善良的女人说的谎真是高明啊。

“没错,先生。我找到了住处,把地址寄给了格莱德夫人,可是两个星期过去了,我们没收到任何回音。后来,有一天一位夫人乘马车到这里来。她说她从格莱德夫人那儿来,格莱德夫人住在一家旅店,想安排同安妮见面。我答应同那位夫人去安排见面的事,把安妮一个人留在住处。可这是个恶毒的阴谋,先生。走到半路,那位夫人说要去商店取点儿东西,让我等几分钟。她去了就再没回来,先生。我等了好一阵子,然后赶忙回家——回来后却发现安妮不见了。就这么消失了。”

我让克莱门茨太太描述一下那位“夫人”的样子,根据她的描述,那人很显然是福斯科夫人。现在我明白伯爵是怎么把安妮·凯瑟里克弄到伦敦,又怎么把她和克莱门茨太太分开的了。

“我不知道安妮到底出了什么事,”克莱门茨太太伤心地说,“我调查过,甚至给她母亲写过信,但是她什么也不知道。我现在非常想念可怜的安妮。你知道,她就像我的女儿一样,先生。”

“我相信你是她的好母亲,”我说,“比她的亲生母亲还要亲。”

“那倒没什么难的,”克莱门茨太太说,“凯瑟里克太太是一个铁石心肠的女人。她好像仇视这个孩子,我提出抚养这孩子时,她非常高兴。后来有一天她把安妮带到利默里奇同她的妹妹住在一起。再后来,她就不让我见安妮了。安妮从精神病院逃出来之前,我就再没见到过她。她逃出来还是你帮的忙呢,先生。从那以后,她—直说她母亲知道一个秘密,那秘密会毁了珀西瓦尔爵士。但是,先生,我觉得安妮并不真的知道那个秘密。如果她真的知道,我相信她早就告诉我了。”

我自己也想过这个问题。但是,现在我努力把话题转向凯瑟里克太太。

“安妮出生前,你就认识凯瑟里克太太吗?”

“认识,大概有四个月的时间。我们在韦明翰是邻居。当时凯瑟里克夫妇刚刚结婚,凯瑟里克先生在韦明翰教堂当职员。结婚前,凯瑟里克太太在一个大户人家当仆人。她是一个自私、狠心的女人,对她可怜的丈夫非常不好。不久,关于她和住在附近旅店的一个年轻人有了很多风言风语。凯瑟里克先生对我丈夫说,他发现他妻子的抽屉里藏着许多贵重礼物,金戒指什么的。”

“那个年轻人是谁?”我问。

“你认识他,先生。我可怜的安妮也认识他。”

“珀西瓦尔爵士?”我的心跳开始加速。我是不是接近那个秘密了?

“就是他。他父亲那时在国外去世,珀西瓦尔爵士刚刚到这里来。大家都说很可能凯瑟里克太太早就认识珀西瓦尔爵士,她和凯瑟里克先生结婚就是想挽救自己的名声,因为,嗯,你知道……不管怎样,一天晚上,凯瑟里克先生看到他妻子和珀西瓦尔爵士在教堂的法衣室外窃窃私语。他们打了起来。珀西瓦尔爵士打了他。之后,凯瑟里克先生就离开了那个村子,再也没回来。尽管村子里流言满天飞,凯瑟里克太太还是一直住在那里。”她说自己是清白的,谁也赶不走她。不过大多数人都认为她是靠珀西瓦尔爵士的钱维持生活的。”

秘密就在这里。可是到底是什么呢?珀西瓦尔爵士是安妮的父亲,这已经不是什么秘密了,大家早就这么想了。不对,这里一定还有隐情。

“那你怎么看,克莱门茨太太?”

“嗯,如果从时间和地点来看,很明显凯瑟里克先生不是安妮的父亲。但是,安妮一点儿也不像珀西瓦尔爵士,也不像她母亲。”

我想到凯瑟里克太太当仆人的那家,也许什么时候我可以到那儿调查一下。

“真是太谢谢了,克莱门茨太太,”我说,“你回答了我那么多问题。最后我还有个请求,你能告诉我凯瑟里克太太的地址吗?我必须查清楚这个秘密,只有她可以告诉我。”

克莱门茨太太把地址给了我,但是摇了摇头,“你要小心,先生。她是一个很可怕的女人,你没有我了解她。”

*  *  *

回到住处,我把要去韦明翰的想法告诉了玛丽安,她非常担优。

“你觉得这样好吗,沃尔特?珀西瓦尔爵士是个心狠手辣的人。”

“我更担心的是你和劳拉,”我说,“就你们两个留在伦敦,还要对付伯爵。”

我们商量好每天都互相写信,如果没有收到玛丽安的来信,我就搭乘最早的一班火车回伦敦来。

*  *  *

三天后,我已经站在凯瑟里克太太的客厅里了。我面前是一个头发灰白的女人,穿着黑色绸衣。她的一双黑眼睛冷冷地盯着我。

“你说你来跟我谈我女儿的事,”她开口说,“有什么话就请讲吧。”

她的声音像她的眼神一样冷。她指了指一把椅子,我坐下以后,她开始仔细地打量我。

“你知道,”我说,“你女儿失踪了吗?”

“我非常清楚。”

“难道你不担心她可能不光是失踪了,有可能她已经死了?”

“我想过。那你是来告诉我,她已经死了?”

“是的。”

“为什么?”

提出这样荒谬的问题,她的声音、表情和举止居然没有任何变化,就好像我刚才谈的是街上死了一只猫。

“我原以为安妮的母亲会关心她的生死。”

“就为了这个啊,”她说,“但是你为什么对她或我感兴趣呢?你到这里来没有其他原因?”

“有,”我回答,“你女儿的死使我所爱的人受到了伤害——是一个叫珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士的人干的。”

我提到了珀西瓦尔的名字,她一点儿反应都没有。

“我要让他承认他所犯下的罪行,你丈夫在教堂当职员的时候,你就知道了他的一些事,我希望你把所知道的告诉我。”

我终于在她眼里看到了愤怒的目光。

“你是怎么知道这些事的?”

“克莱门茨太太把她知道的都告诉我了。”

“克莱门茨太太是个愚蠢的女人。”她压下怒火,双唇勾起一丝恶意的微笑。“呵,我开始懂了。要向珀西瓦尔爵士报仇,需要帮忙。这就是你来这里的原因。你不了解我。我在这个村子住了这么多年,才挽回我的名誉。现在大家都很尊敬我,我不会帮你的。”

“如果你害怕珀西瓦尔爵士,那是可以理解的,”我说,“他是个有权势的人,出身名门——”

令我吃惊的是,她突然大笑起来。

“出身名门!是,没错!尤其是他母亲那一边。”她不屑地说。

她这话是什么意思?我不明白。

“你和他之间的秘密不是什么婚外情,”我接着说,“是别的事情使得你们在教堂的法衣室外秘密见面。”

在提到“教堂的法衣室”时,我注意到她的脸上掠过一阵恐惧。

“滚出去!”她大声喊着,“再也不要回来。除非”——她脸上慢慢露出残忍的笑意——“除非你来告诉我他死了。”

*  *  *

天色已晚,我朝最近的旅店走去。有许多问题需要思考。为什么提到教堂的法衣室她就害怕了?为什么她瞧不起珀西瓦尔爵士的家庭,特别是他的母亲?难道他父母的婚姻有什么特别的地方?也许当地的婚姻登记记录就存放在韦明翰教堂的法衣室……

第二天我去了教堂。我已经注意到前一天晚上有人跟踪我,这会儿我又看到在伦敦克尔先生办公室外见到的那两个人在跟着我。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士已经料到我要来见凯瑟里克太太,现在又料到我来韦明翰教堂——这些恰好证明我的调查方向是正确的。

我找到了教堂职员,他找来钥匙,带我来到教堂的法衣室。法衣室只能从教堂外面进去,职员费了好大劲儿才打开那把旧锁。进去以后,我说要看看婚姻登记记录。那些记录放在一个柜子里,柜子的门很容易被撬开。

“婚姻登记记录放在这里安全吗?”我问。

“很安全,”职员回答,“另一个副本存放在邻村的律师那里,就是万斯伯勒先生的办公室,在诺雷斯伯里。”

我从珀西瓦尔爵士出生那年的记录开始往前面查,在前一年的9月,有一页在靠下的角落里记着费利克斯·格莱德爵士和诺雷斯伯里的塞西莉亚结婚。只是非常一般的记录,看不出珀西瓦尔爵士的母亲有什么特殊的地方。秘密好像比以前离我更远了。

接下来,我奔赴诺雷斯伯里万斯伯勒先生的办公室——大约有5英里的路程,但是在天黑前赶回来还是可能的。很有必要查看一下记录的副本,也许律师会知道一些有用的信息。

12
The secret

Sir Percival's spies attacked me on the road to Knowlesbury. One of them came up beside me, and bumped into me with his shoulder. I pushed him away, hard, and he immediately shouted for help. The other man ran up and the two of them held me between them. The first man accused me of attacking him, and they said they would take me to the police station in the town.

What could I do? I couldn't fight both of them and hope to get away, so I had to go with them.

At the police station the first man accused me of a violent attack, and the second man said he was a witness. I was locked up until the next magistrate's court, which was three days away. I could be released on bail, I was told, but how could I, a total stranger in the town, find a responsible person willing to pay money for my temporary freedom? The whole plan was now clear — to get me out of the way for three days, while Sir Percival did whatever was necessary to prevent his secret being discovered.

At first I was too angry to think clearly. Then I remembered Mr Dawson, the doctor. I had been to his house on my previous visit to Blackwater, so I knew his address. I wrote him a letter, explaining what had happened and begging for his help, and then asked for a messenger to deliver it. Two hours later the good doctor appeared, paid the required money and I was set free.

There was no time to lose. The news of my being free would doubtless reach Sir Percival within hours. I hurried to the lawyer's office, where I asked if I could see the copy of the Welmingham marriage register. Mr Wansborough was a pleasant man and agreed to show me the copy. In fact, he was quite amused. No one had asked to see it since his father (now dead) had locked it away in the office more than twenty years before.

As I opened the register, my hands trembled. I turned the pages to the year and month. I found the names I remembered just before, and just after, the marriage of Sir Percival's parents. And between these entries, at the bottom of the page...?

Nothing! The marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster was not there! I looked again, to be sure. No, nothing. Not a doubt about it. Sir Percival must have seen the space in the Welmingham register and written in the marriage himself.

I had never once suspected this. He was not Sir Percival Glyde at all! His parents had not been married, so he had no right to the inheritance of Blackwater Park, no right to the rank of Baronet, no right even to the name of Glyde! This was his secret — and it was now mine to use against him!

The copy of the register would be safe enough in the lawyer's office, but I decided to go back to Welmingham and make a copy of the false record from the church register. It was dark now and I ran all the way to the church clerk's house. I knocked on his door, but when he appeared, he looked suspicious and confused.

'Where are the keys?' he asked. 'Have you taken them?'

'What keys do you mean?' I said. 'I've just this minute arrived from Knowlesbury.'

'The keys of the vestry,' he said. 'The keys are gone! Someone's broken in and taken the keys.'

'Get a light,' I said, 'and let's go to the vestry. Quick!'

We ran to the church. On the path we passed a man who looked at us with frightened eyes. He seemed to be a servant of some kind. We did not stop to question him, but ran on.

As we came in sight of the vestry, I saw a high window brilliantly lit from within. There was a strange smell on the night air, a sound of cracking wood, and the light grew brighter and brighter. I ran to the door and put my hand on it. The vestry was on fire!

I heard the key working violently in the lock — I heard a man's voice behind the door, raised in terror, screaming for help.

'Oh, my God!' said the servant, who had followed us, 'it's Sir Percival!'

'God help him!' said the clerk. 'He's damaged the lock.'

*  *  *

At that moment I forget the man's crimes and see only the horror of his situation. Several people are now running towards the church and I call to them to help me break down the door. We look desperately for something to use, and at last someone finds a long heavy piece of wood.

By now the flames are shooting up out of the window, and the screams have stopped. We get the wood into position and run at the door with it. Again, and again! At last the door crashes down, but a wave of heat hits our faces and drives us back — and in the room we see nothing but a sheet of living fire.

*  *  *

The church itself was saved as the fire engine arrived soon afterwards and managed to put out the fire before it spread. They carried out the body of Sir Percival Glyde and laid it on the wet ground. I looked down on his dead face and this was how, for the first and last time, I saw him.

He must have heard that I was free and on my way back to Welmingham, so he hurried to the church, stealing the keys and locking himself in to prevent anyone coming in and finding him. All he could do was tear the page out of the register and destroy it. If the false record no longer existed, I could produce no evidence to threaten him with. He must have dropped his lamp by accident, which started the fire. Then in his urgency to get out, the lock had become damaged and the key unmoveable.

I could not leave the town. There would be a legal enquiry into the accident the next day, which I had to attend, and in any case I had to report back to the police station in Knowlesbury. I returned to the hotel and wrote to Marian, telling her everything that had happened and warning her to keep the news from Laura for the moment. With Sir Percival's death, my hopes of establishing Laura's identity had also died, and I could see no way forward at present.

The next day an envelope with my name on was delivered to the hotel. The letter inside was neither dated nor signed, but before I had read the first sentence, I knew who had written it — Mrs Catherick.


Sir — I thought you were my enemy. Now that he is dead, because of you, I consider you my friend. To thank you for what you have done, I will now tell you the things you wanted to know about my private life.

Twenty-three years ago I was a beautiful young woman living in Welmingham, married to a fool of a husband. I also knew a gentleman — I shall not call him by his name. Why should I? It was not his own. I was born with expensive tastes. This man gave me expensive presents. Naturally he wanted something in return — all men do. And what did he want? Just a little thing. The key to the church vestry, when my husband's back was turned. I liked my presents, so I got him the key. I watched him in the vestry without his knowing, and saw what he was doing. I did not know then how serious a crime it was. I said I would not tell anyone about the marriage he had added to the register if he told me about his private life. He agreed — why, you will see in a moment.

He said that he only found out that his parents were not married after his mother's death. His father confessed to it and promised to do what he could for his son. But he died having done nothing. The son came to England and took possession of the property. There was no one to say he could not. In fact, the right person to claim the property was a distant relation away at sea. However, to borrow money on the property, he needed a certificate of his parents' marriage. This was a problem — a problem which brought him to Welmingham.

As his parents had mostly lived abroad and had had no social life in England, who was to say (the priest being dead) that a private marriage had not taken place at Welmingham church? His plan was to tear out a page from the marriage register in the year before his birth and destroy it. Then he would tell his lawyers in London to get the necessary certificate, innocently referring them to the date on the page that was gone. At least no one could say that his parents were not married.

However, when he saw there was a small space at the bottom of the page in the right year, he changed his plan and took the opportunity to write in the marriage himself. It took him some time, though, to practise the handwriting and to mix the right colour of ink, so that it looked the same.

After my husband caught me talking secretly to him and after their fight together, I asked my fine gentleman to clear my name and to say there had been nothing between us. But he refused. He wanted everyone to believe something false, so that they would never suspect the truth. He then told me that the punishment for his crime, and anyone who helped him, was life in prison. He frightened me! If I spoke out, I was just as lost as he was. He then agreed to make me a yearly payment if I said nothing and stayed in Welmingham, where he could always find me and where there was no danger of my making friends and talking. This was hard, but I accepted.

Many years later, when my daughter was with me at home, I received a letter from him which made me very angry. I lost control of myself and said, in her presence, that 'I could destroy him if I let out his secret'. Then one day he came to our house and called her a fool. Immediately she shouted, 'Ask for my pardon, now, or I'll let out your secret and destroy your life. 'My own words! He went white. Then he swore at us. It ended, as you know, by his shutting her up in an asylum. I tried to tell him she knew nothing. But he did not believe me. My daughter knew that she had frightened him and that he was responsible for shutting her up because he believed she knew his secret. That's why she hated him. But she never to her dying day knew what his secret actually was.

I will end by saying that you insult me if you think my husband was not my daughter's father. Please do not ask further questions about that. To protect myself, I mention no names in this letter, nor do I sign it.


magistrate n. an official conducting a court for minor cases 法官

bail n. money left with a court of law to prove that a prisoner will return when their trial starts 保释金

entry n. an item 条目

brilliantly adv. very brightly 非常亮

produce v. bring forward for consideration or inspection 拿出

12.秘密

在去往诺雷斯伯里的路上,珀西瓦尔爵士的人向我发起了攻击。其中一个走到我旁边,用肩膀撞我。我用力把他推开,他马上大喊起来。另一个人跑过来,他们两个把我夹在了中间。第一个人指责我打他,他们说要把我带到镇上的警察局去。

我能怎么办呢?我没办法打倒他们两个再逃走,现在只得跟他们走了。

到了警察局,第一个人说我打他,另一个人说他是证人。我被关了起来,等着三天后法官开庭审理。他们告诉我可以保释,可是我在这里一个人也不认识,怎么可能找到一个愿意负责的人出钱让我获得暂时的自由呢?他们的整个计划很清楚——让我消失三天,珀西瓦尔爵士就利用这段时间尽一切可能保证他的秘密不被发现。

刚开始,我非常气愤,头脑中一片混乱。后来我想起了道森先生,那位医生。上一次我去布莱克沃特的时候到过他家,所以我知道他的地址。我给他写了封信,告诉他出了什么事,请求他来帮我,然后找了一个送信的帮我把信送走。两个小时后,好心的医生来了,为我交了保释金,我自由了。

必须抓紧时间,因为我被释放的消息肯定几个小时之内就会传到珀西瓦尔爵士那里。我赶到律师的办公室,请求看一下韦明翰的结婚登记记录。万斯伯勒先生是个和气的人,他同意让我看副本。其实,应该说他很高兴,因为自从他父亲(现在已经去世了)20多年前把文件锁在办公室后,从未有人要求查看过。

我翻开记录副本的时候双手在颤抖。我找到了珀西瓦尔爵士父母结婚的年份和月份,以及在他们之前和之后结婚的男女方姓名记录。但是,在这些条目之间,在那一页的底下……?

什么也没有!费利克斯·格莱德爵士和塞西莉亚·埃尔斯特的婚姻根本就没有记录!为了保险起见,我又看了一遍。没有,什么也没有,毫无疑问。珀西瓦尔爵士可能在韦明翰的记录中看到了那个空白,然后自己填上了那条记录。

我从未怀疑到这一点。他根本就不是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士,他的父母没有结婚,他根本没有权利继承布莱克沃特庄园和爵位,甚至根本无权姓格莱德!这就是他的秘密——现在我要利用这个秘密来对付他!

婚姻登记的副本放在律师的办公室很安全,我决定返回韦明翰,复制一份教堂的假记录。天已经黑了,我一路跑到教堂职员的住处。我敲了门,职员出来的时候,脸上布满了疑虑。

“钥匙在哪儿?”他问我,“你把钥匙拿走了吗?”

“什么钥匙?”我说,“我刚从诺雷斯伯里过来。”

“法衣室的钥匙,”他说,“钥匙不见了!有人进来偷走了钥匙。”

“拿上灯,”我说,“我们去法衣室,快!”

我们向教堂跑去。路上碰见一个人,似乎是个仆人,他惊慌地看了看我们。我们没有停下来问他任何问题,而是继续向前跑。

当我们看到法衣室的时候,我发现从一个高处的窗户里发出很亮的光,夜晚的空气中有一股奇怪的味道,可以听到木头劈啪作响的声音,那光变得越来越亮。我跑到法衣室的门口,用手摸了摸门。法衣室起火了!

我听到钥匙在锁里使劲转动的声音——我听到门后有人害怕地高声喊救命。

“噢,上帝!”跟着我们跑过来的仆人说,“是珀西瓦尔爵士!”

“上帝啊,救救他!”职员说,“他把锁弄坏了。”

alt

*  *  *

这个时候,我忘记了这个人的罪恶,只想到他现在的危急处境。有几个人正朝教堂跑过来,我叫他们帮我把门弄开。我们到处找能弄开门的东西,最后有人找来一根很粗的长木头。

这时,火焰已经窜出了窗户,呼叫声已听不见了。我们抬着长木头,一次又一次朝门撞过去。最后门被撞倒了,热浪从屋里冲出来,使我们不得不往后退去——屋里除了一团火什么也看不见。

*  *  *

救火车很快赶到,没等火势蔓延就把火扑灭了,教堂本身没有受到破坏。人们把珀西瓦尔爵士的尸体抬了出来,放在潮湿的地上。我看了看他的脸,这是我第一次也是最后一次看到他。

他一定是听说我被放出来,而且正赶回韦明翰,所以急忙赶到教堂,偷了钥匙,把自己锁在屋子里,不让任何人进去发现他。他唯一能做的就是把那一页从登记簿上撕下来销毁。如果假记录没有了,我就拿不出证据来威胁他。他可能不小心把灯掉到地上,引起了大火。然后,他急着要出来,匆忙中弄坏了锁,钥匙转不动了。

我现在还不能离开这里。转天会有一个事故的法律调查,我必须参加。而且不管怎样,我还得向诺雷斯伯里的警察局报到。我回到旅店,写信给玛丽安,告诉她这里发生的事情,提醒她先不要把这个消息告诉劳拉。珀西瓦尔爵士死了,我证明劳拉身份的希望也不复存在,现在我不知下一步该怎么办。

第二天,一个写着我名字的信封被送到了旅店。里面的信既没有日期,也没有署名。但是还没看完第一句,我就知道是谁写的信了——凯瑟里克太太。

先生——我原以为你是我的敌人。现在因为你,他已经死了,我认为你是我的朋友。为感谢你的所作所为,我现在把你想知道的我的私事告诉你。

23年前,我是一个年轻漂亮的姑娘,住在韦明翰,嫁给了一位傻乎乎的丈夫。我还结识了一位绅士——我不会称呼他的名字。为什么要那样叫他?那不是他的名字。我生来就喜欢贵重的东西,这个人送给我许多贵重礼物,当然他是需要回报的——男人都是这样。这个男人要的是什么?很简单的一样东西。教堂法衣室的钥匙,当然要趁我丈夫不在的时候。我喜欢那些礼物,所以给他弄到了钥匙。我盯着他,看他在法衣室干什么,他并没发觉。当时我不知道那是多么严重的罪行。我跟他说,要是他告诉我他的私事,我不会告诉任何人他擅自增加结婚记录的事。他答应了——至于为什么,你往下看就明白了。

他说在他母亲死后,他才知道他的父母并没有结婚。他父亲承认了这件事,答应尽力为他儿子做些什么。可是他什么都没来得及做,就死去了。他的儿子来到英国继承了遗产。没人说他不能继承,实际上,真正应该继承遗产的是一个正在出海的远亲。然而,要想用那笔财产去借钱,他需要一份父母的结婚证明。这是个问题,为解决这个问题,他来到了韦明翰。

因为他父母大部分时间生活在国外,在英国没什么交际,所以谁会说(牧师已经死了)韦明翰教堂没举行过一场私下的婚礼呢?他的计划是把他出生前那一年的婚姻登记页撕下来销毁。然后,他就会告诉伦敦的律师们去取必要的证明文件,并假装不知情地把那个已经不存在的登记页上的日期告诉他们。至少谁也不会说他父母没结婚。

但是,他发现那年的登记页上靠下面有一点空白,于是改变了主意,趁机把他父母的婚姻写了进去。当然,他也颇费了些时间去模仿登记用的笔迹,还有配制合适的墨水颜色,让这条记录看起来跟其他的没有差别。

我丈夫看到我和他密谈,他们两个打了一架以后,我叫他帮我洗清名声,告诉别人我们之间什么也没发生,但是他拒绝了。他希望大家都相信并没有发生的事情,这样一来,人们就不会去想真相如何了。他还跟我说如果他的罪行败露,他以及帮过他的人都将被终生监禁。他让我害怕极了!如果我说出他的秘密,那我和他都完了。他答应每年支付我一笔钱,条件是我保持沉默,继续住在韦明翰,让他随时可以找到我,也免得我与人交朋友,然后乱讲话。虽说条件很苛刻,我还是答应了。

很多年以后,那时我女儿同我在一起,我收到他的一封信把我惹恼了。我无法控制自己,当着女儿的面说:“我把他的秘密说出去就能毁了他。”后来有一天,他来我家,管我女儿叫傻瓜,她一下子喊了起来:“赶快请求我原谅你,不然我就把你的秘密说出去,毁了你。”完全是我说过的话!他的脸一下子变白了。他向我们破口大骂。最后,你知道,他把她关进了精神病院。我试图告诉他,她什么也不知道。可是他不相信我。我女儿明白她使他害怕了,是他把她关进了精神病院,因为他认为她知道了他的秘密。这就是为什么她那么恨他。但是,她其实到死也不知道那秘密到底是什么。

最后我要说的是,如果你认为我丈夫不是我女儿的父亲,你就是污辱我。请不要多问了。为了保护我自己,信中没有提到任何名字,我也不会署名。

13
The threat

Mrs Catherick's extraordinary and shameless letter filled me with disgust. My interest in Sir Percival Glyde's crime was now at an end, but I decided to keep the letter in case it might help me find out who Anne's father really was.

Later in the morning I went to the legal enquiry into Sir Percival's death. I was only asked to say what had happened. I was not asked how I thought the keys had been taken, how the fire had been caused, or why Sir Percival had gone into the vestry. As no one could explain any of these things, the verdict at the end of the enquiry was 'death by accident'.

Afterwards, a gentleman who was also at the enquiry walked back to the hotel with me. He had heard from Sir Percival's lawyer that a distant relation abroad would now inherit Blackwater Park. This was obviously the person who should have inherited it twenty-three years before. If I made Sir Percival's crime public, it would be to no one's advantage now. If I kept the secret, the true character of the man who had cheated Laura into marrying him would remain hidden. And for her sake, I wished to keep it hidden.

I still could not leave Hampshire, as I had to report to the police station in Knowlesbury the next day. I spent another night at the hotel and in the morning went to the post office to collect the letter from Marian. As promised, we had written to each other every day, and Marian's letters had been full of cheerful news. This morning's letter was short, and terrified me.


Come back as soon as you can. We have had to move. Come to Gower's Walk, Fulham (number five). I will look out for you. Don't be alarmed about us, we are both safe and well. But come back. — Marian


What had happened? What dreadful thing had Count Fosco done while I was away? In spite of my anxiety, I had to wait. I paid my bill at the hotel and took a cab to Knowlesbury.

At the police station, as I expected, no one appeared to continue the action against me and I was allowed to go. Half an hour later I was on the train back to London.

I got to Gower's Walk in Fulham at about nine o'clock. Both Laura and Marian came to the door to let me in. Laura was much brighter and happier, full of plans for the future and for her drawing and painting. Marian's face was tired and anxious. I could see that she had spared Laura the knowledge of the terrible death in Welmingham and the true reason for moving to new lodgings. When Laura had left us and we could speak freely, I tried to give some expression to my feelings and told Marian how much I admired her for the courage and love she had shown.

She was too generous to listen to me, and turned the conversation to my worries.

'I'm so sorry for my letter — it must have alarmed you.'

'Yes, it did,' I admitted. 'Was I right in thinking that you moved because of a threat by Count Fosco?'

'Perfectly right,' she said. 'I saw him yesterday, and worse than that, Walter — I spoke to him.'

'Spoke to him? Did he come to the house?'

'He did. Yesterday, when I was passing the window, I saw him in the street. Then there was a knock on the door. I rushed out and there he was, dressed in black, with his smooth face and his deadly smile. I closed the door behind me so that Laura would not see or hear him.'

'What did he say?' I asked anxiously.

'He greeted me, then repeated the warning in his letter to me. He said he had not been able to prevent Sir Percival's violence towards you, and he had found out our address in order to protect his own interests. You were followed, Walter, on your return home after your first journey to Hampshire. He used this information only when he heard of Sir Percival's death, because he believed you would act against him next.'

'And he was right,' I said. 'What did he say about me?'

'He was very cool, very polite, and very threatening,' said Marian. 'He said, "Warn Mr Hartright! He has an intelligent and powerful man to deal with. Let him be content with what he has got. Say to him, if he attacks me, I will use all my power to destroy him. There is nothing I will not do. Dear lady, good morning." Then he just looked at me with his cold grey eyes, and walked away.

'I ran back inside, and told Laura we had to move. We needed a quieter neighbourhood with better air for the sake of her health. I said you'd wanted us to do that, and why didn't we do it now to surprise you when you got back. She liked that idea, and was quite happy to move. I found these lodgings through an old school friend. I did the right thing, didn't I, Walter?'

I answered her warmly and gratefully, as I really felt.

But the anxious look remained on her face, and I saw in her eyes her continuing fear of the Count's cleverness and energy.

'What do you think of his message, Walter? What do you plan to do next?'

'I decided weeks ago that Laura will be received in her uncle's house again,' I answered. 'And my decision remains the same. Count Fosco will answer for his crime to ME.'

Marian's eyes lit up. She said nothing, but I could see how strongly she supported this plan.

'I know the risks are great,' I said, 'but it must be done. I'm not foolish enough to try this before I'm well prepared. I can wait. Let him think his message has produced its effect. He will start to feel safe. Also, my position towards you and Laura ought to be a stronger one than it is now.'

'How can it be stronger?' she asked, surprised.

'Marian, I would like you to say to Laura, gently, that her husband is dead.'

'Oh, Walter, so soon? You have a reason for this, don't you?'

'Yes. I cannot speak to Laura yet. But one day, not too distant, I want to tell her that I love her.'

Marian looked at me for a time, then gave a sad, gentle smile. 'Yes, I understand. I think I owe it to her and to you, Walter, to tell her of her husband's death.'

The next day Laura knew that death had released her from her marriage, and her husband's name was never mentioned among us again.

*  *  *

Our life returned to its usual pattern, but I did not forget the Count. I discovered that he had rented his house in St John's Wood for another six months, so I was fairly sure he would still be in London, within my reach, when the time came to act.

We finally solved the puzzle of who Anne Catherick's father was. When I went again to see Mrs Clements and to tell her about Anne's death, she remembered where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Her employer had been a Mr Donthorne.

We wrote to Mr Donthorne, who replied with some very interesting information. Philip Fairlie, Laura's father, had been a great friend of his when they were young, and a frequent house guest. He was a handsome man and fond of female company. Mr Donthorne was fairly certain that Philip Fairlie had been staying at his house when Mrs Catherick was employed as a servant, in the year before Anne was born.

When Marian and I checked the dates; when we considered that Anne and Laura looked so alike; and when we took into account the fact that Laura looked very much like her father, we were in no doubt that here was the solution. Philip Fairlie was Anne's father, and so Anne was Laura's half-sister.

Now, at last, the woman in white, that strange sad shadow walking in the loneliness of the night, could rest in peace.

*  *  *

Four months passed. Laura grew stronger in body and in mind. She was almost her old self, and when we talked, it was as we used to talk at Limmeridge. If I touched her by accident, I felt my heart beating fast, and I saw the answering colour in her face.

In April, we went for a holiday at the seaside. While we were there I told Marian that when we returned to London, I was determined to force a confession from Count Fosco — to make him tell me the real date of Laura's journey to London.

'But if I am to challenge the Count, for Laura's safety, I think I should challenge him as her husband. Do you agree, Marian?'

'With every word,' she said. 'I parted you both once. Wait here, my brother, my best and dearest friend! Till Laura comes, and tells you what I have done now!'

She kissed my forehead and left the room. I waited by the window, staring out at the beach, seeing nothing, hardly able to breathe. The door opened, and Laura came in alone. When we parted at Limmeridge, she had come into the room slowly, in sorrow and hesitation. Now she ran to me, with the light of happiness shining in her face. She put her arms around me, and her sweet lips came to meet mine.

'My darling!' she whispered, 'May we say we love each other now? Oh, I am so happy at last!'

Ten days later we were even happier. We were married.


verdict n. a decision; a judgment 结论

spare somebody the knowledge of keeping somebody from knowing 不让某人知道……

deadly adj. horrible 可怕的

answer for be responsible 受到惩罚

fairly adv. to a noticeable degree 相当地

13.威胁

凯瑟里克太太奇怪而又不知羞耻的来信使我对她充满了鄙夷。现在,我对珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行已经没有兴趣了,但我还是决定留着这封信,也许它会帮我找出安妮的父亲究竟是谁。

上午晚些时候,我去参加珀西瓦尔爵士死亡的法律调查。他们只让我说说发生了什么,没有问我如何看待钥匙为什么会被拿走,火灾是怎么发生的,或者为什么珀西瓦尔爵士会进到法衣室去。没有人能够解释这些问题,所以调查的最终结论是“意外死亡”。

之后,一位也参加了调查的男子和我一起走回旅店。他从珀西瓦尔爵士的律师那里得知,一个国外的远亲现在要来继承布莱克沃特庄园。很明显,这就是23年前应该继承庄园的那个人。假如我把珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行公之于众,现在对谁都没有好处。假如我不把秘密说出去,这个欺骗劳拉与之结婚的人的真正人品就不会有人知道。但为了劳拉,我愿意保守这个秘密。

我还不能离开汉普郡,因为转天还要去诺雷斯伯里警察局。我在旅店又住了一晚。第二天一早,我去邮局取玛丽安的来信。我们按约定每天通信。玛丽安的来信一直都是好消息。今天早上的来信很短,但却令我害怕。


请尽快回来。我们不得不搬了家。到富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街(5号)来找我们。我也会留意等你。不必为我们担心,我们很安全。一定快回来。玛丽安


出了什么事?我不在的时候,福斯科伯爵又做了什么坏事?尽管非常担心,我还是得等。我付清了旅店的费用,叫了辆马车直奔诺雷斯伯里。

在警察局,不出我所料,没人来继续同我纠缠,我可以走了。半个小时后,我登上了返回伦敦的火车。

大约9点钟,我赶到了富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街。劳拉和玛丽安都到门口迎接我。劳拉的脸色比以前好多了,人也高兴多了,对将来和她的绘画有很多想法。玛丽安的脸上带着倦容和忧虑。看得出她没有把珀西瓦尔死在韦明翰的可怕消息和搬到新住处的真实原因告诉劳拉。劳拉走开以后,我们可以随便谈话了。我想告诉她我非常敬佩她的勇气和她对劳拉表现出的爱。

这位慷慨的姑娘没等我说完就把话题转到我的担忧上来了。

alt

“给你写那样的信,真是对不起——你一定很为我们担心吧。”

“是的,我的确很担心,”我说,“我猜你们搬家是由于福斯科伯爵的威胁,对吗?”

“一点儿不错,”她回答,“我昨天看见他了,更糟糕的是,沃尔特——我跟他说话了。”

“跟他说话了?他去你们的住处了?”

“是的。昨天,我从窗旁走过的时候,看见他在街上。过了一会儿,有人敲门。我马上跑过去开门,就是他,穿一身黑色衣服,光滑的脸上带着吓人的微笑。我关上了身后的门,这样劳拉就看不见他,也听不见他说话了。”

“他都说了什么?”我急切地问。

“他跟我打了招呼,然后再一次重复了他在信中对我的警告。他说他没能阻止珀西瓦尔爵士针对你的恶劣行为,他找到我们的住处是要保护他自己的利益。你第一次去汉普郡回来的时候就被跟踪了,沃尔特。他在听到珀西瓦尔爵士的死讯后才决定登门,因为他认为你下一个对付的目标就是他。”

“让他说对了,”我说,“他说我什么了?”

“他非常冷静而有礼,同时又非常具有威胁性,”玛丽安接着说,“他说,‘请警告哈特里特先生!他要对付的是一个有智慧、有权势的人。叫他对已经得到的东西知足吧。告诉他,如果他跟我对着干,我将不遗余力地干掉他。我会不择手段的。亲爱的小姐,再见。’然后,他用冷酷的灰眼睛看了看我,就走了。

“我赶忙跑进屋,跟劳拉说我们得搬家。为她的健康着想,我们需要一个更安静、空气更好的地方。我说你也希望我们搬家,为什么不现在就搬,等你回来给你一个惊喜呢。她喜欢这个主意,欢天喜地地同意了。我通过一个校友找到这个住处。我做得没错吧,沃尔特?”

我说她做得非常好,这是我的心里话。

但是,她脸上依然带着忧虑,从她的眼神里看得出,她还在害怕伯爵的精明和权势。

“沃尔特,你怎么看他的那些话?下一步你准备怎么做?”

“几星期前,我就决定让劳拉重新在她叔叔家得到应有的承认,”我回答,“现在我还是这样想的。我要让福斯科伯爵为他犯下的罪行付出代价。”

玛丽安的眼睛一亮,虽然没有说话,但是看得出她非常支持这个计划。

“我清楚这样做风险很大,”我说,“但这件事一定要做。我不会愚蠢到没做好准备就动手。我可以等。让他觉得他的话起了作用,认为已经平安无事了。另外,我跟你和劳拉的关系也该比现在更明确。”

“怎么个更明确法?”她吃惊地问。

“玛丽安,我希望你能心平气和地告诉劳拉,她丈夫已经死了。”

“噢,沃尔特,这么快就告诉她?你这样做是不是有什么原因?”

“是的,我现在还不能跟劳拉谈,但总有一天,不会太久,我会告诉她我爱她。”

玛丽安看了我一会儿,然后淡淡地、略带忧伤地笑了笑,“好吧,我明白。我想这是我欠你们的,沃尔特,我会把她丈夫的死讯告诉她。”

第二天,劳拉知道她丈夫死了,她也从这段婚姻中解脱了,那以后我们谁也没再提过她丈夫的名字。

*  *  *

我们的生活恢复了往常的模式,但是我没有忘记伯爵。我了解到他在圣约翰伍德的房子又续租了6个月,因此可以肯定,到了我采取行动的时候,他还会在伦敦,我还可以找到他。

我们终于弄清了安妮·凯瑟里克的父亲是谁。我又去见了克莱门茨太太,告诉她安妮已经死了。她记起凯瑟里克太太当仆人的地方。她的雇主姓多桑。

我们给多桑先生写信,他在回信中告诉我们一些非常有趣的信息。菲利普·费尔利,就是劳拉的父亲,年轻时和他是好友,也是他家里的常客。菲利普风流潇洒,喜欢女色。多桑先生非常肯定凯瑟里克太太在他家当仆人的那段时间,也就是安妮出生的前一年,菲利普·费尔利一直住在他家。

玛丽安和我算了算时间,我们想到安妮和劳拉如此地相像,想到劳拉如此地像她父亲,我们得到了非常肯定的答案。菲利普·费尔利是安妮的父亲,安妮和劳拉是同父异母的姐妹。

现在,那位白衣女人,那位在寂静深夜出现的古怪而哀伤的女人终于可以安息了。

*  *  *

四个月过去了,劳拉的身体渐渐强壮起来,头脑也慢慢清楚了。她几乎又是原来的她了。我们交谈的时候,感觉和当初在利默里奇谈话时一样。当我无意间碰到她的时候,我感到心跳在加速,而且我注意到她也脸红了。

4月,我们到海边度假。在那里,我告诉玛丽安,等回到伦敦,我一定要迫使福斯科伯爵说实话,让他说出劳拉回伦敦的真正日期。

“但是为了劳拉的安全,我想如果我挑战伯爵的话,最好以她丈夫的身份前去,你同意吗,玛丽安?”

“完全同意,”玛丽安说,“我曾让你们两个分开,你在这儿等我一下,我的好朋友!一会儿劳拉就过来,她会告诉你我这次是怎么做的,好吗?”

她吻了吻我的额头,走了出去。我在窗旁等着,眼睛望着海滩,却什么也看不到,我紧张得几乎喘不过气来。门开了,劳拉一个人走进来。我们在利默里奇分手的时候,她是慢慢地走进房间的,神情充满了痛苦和犹豫。这会儿,她跑向我,脸上闪耀着幸福的光芒。她张开手臂紧紧地拥抱我,用甜润的双唇吻着我。

“亲爱的!”她轻声说,“现在我们能对彼此说‘我爱你’了吧?啊,我终于得到幸福了!”

十天以后,我们的幸福又向前迈进了一步,我们结婚了。

14
The confession

A fortnight later, we returned to London, and I began to prepare for my battle with the Count. It was now early May and the rental agreement for his house ended in June. In my new happiness with Laura (to whom we never mentioned the Count's name), I was sometimes tempted to change my mind and to leave things as they were. But she still had dreams, terrible dreams that made her cry out in her sleep, and I knew I had to go on.

First, I tried to find out more about the Count. Marian told me that he had not been back to Italy for many years. Had he been obliged to leave Italy for political reasons, I wondered? But Marian also said that at Blackwater Park he had received official-looking letters with Italian stamps on, which would seem to contradict this idea. Perhaps he was a spy, I thought. That might explain why he had stayed in England so long after the successful completion of his plot. Who could I ask who might know something? Another Italian, perhaps — and I suddenly thought of my old friend, Professor Pesca.

Before I did that, I decided to have a look at the Count, as up to this time I had never once set eyes on him. So one morning I went to Forest Road, St John's Wood, and waited near his house. Eventually, he came out and I followed behind him as he walked towards the centre of London. Marian had prepared me for his enormous size and fashionable clothes, but not for the horrible freshness and cheerfulness and energy of the man.

Near Oxford Street he stopped to read a sign announcing an opera, and then went into the opera ticket office, which was nearby. I went over to read the sign. The opera was being performed that evening, and it seemed likely that the Count would be in the audience.

If I invite Pesca to the opera, I thought, I can point the Count out to him and find out if he knows him. So I bought two tickets myself, sent Pesca a note, and that evening called to take him with me to the opera.

The music had already started when we went in, and all the seats were filled. However, there was room to stand at the sides. I looked around and saw the Count sitting in a seat half-way down, so I placed myself exactly on a line with him, with Pesca standing at my side. When the first part finished, the audience, including the Count, rose to look about them.

When the Count was looking in our direction, I nudged Pesca with my elbow. 'You see that tall fat man? Do you know him?'

'No,' said Pesca. 'Is he famous? Why do you point him out?'

'Because I have a reason for wanting to know more about him. He's an Italian, and his name is Count Fosco. Do you know that name? Look — stand on this step so that you can see him better.'

A slim, fair-haired man, with a scar on his left cheek, was standing near us. I saw him look at Pesca, and then follow the direction of his eyes to the Count. Pesca repeated that he did not know him, and as he spoke, the Count looked our way again.

The eyes of the two Italians met.

In that second I was suddenly convinced that, while Pesca may not have known the Count, the Count certainly knew Pesca!

Not only knew him, but — more surprising still — feared him as well. The Count's face had frozen into a dreadful stillness, the cheeks as pale as death, the cold grey eyes staring in terror.

Nearby, the man with the scar also seemed to be watching with interest the effect that Pesca had had on the Count.

'How the fat man stares!' Pesca said, looking round at me. 'But I've never seen him before in my life.'

As Pesca looked away, the Count turned, moving quickly towards the back of the theatre, where the crowd was thickest. I caught Pesca's arm and, to his great surprise, hurried him with me after the Count. The slim man with the scar had apparently also decided to leave, and was already ahead of us. By the time Pesca and I reached the entrance, neither the Count nor the slim man was in sight.

'Pesca,' I said urgently, 'I must speak to you in private. May we go to your lodgings to talk?'

'What on earth is the matter?' cried Pesca.

I hurried him on without answering. The way the Count had left the theatre, his extraordinary anxiety to avoid Pesca, made me fear that he might go even further — and out of my reach.

In Pesca's lodgings, I explained everything as fast as I could, while Pesca stared at me in great confusion and amazement.

'He knows you — he's afraid of you. He left the theatre to escape you,' I said. 'There must be a reason, Pesca! Think of your own life before you came to England. You left Italy for political reasons. I don't ask what they were. But could that man's terror be connected with your past in some way?'

To my inexpressible surprise, these harmless words seemed to terrify Pesca. His face went white and he started to tremble.

'Walter!' he whispered. 'You don't know what you ask.'

I stared at him. 'Pesca, forgive me. I didn't mean to cause you pain. I spoke only because of what my wife has suffered from that man's cruel actions. You must forgive me.'

I rose to go. He stopped me before I reached the door.

'Wait,' he said. 'You saved my life once. You have a right to hear from me what you want to know, even though I could be killed for it. I only ask that, if you find the connection between my past and that man Fosco, you do not tell me.'

Then, his face still pale as the memories of the past crowded in on him, he told me the story.

'In my youth I belonged — and still belong — to a secret political society. Let's call it the Brotherhood, I can't tell you its real name. But I took too many risks and did something which put other members in danger. So I was ordered to go and live in England and to wait. I went — I have waited — I still wait. I could be called away tomorrow, or in ten years. I cannot know.

'The purpose of the Brotherhood is to fight for the rights of the people. There is a president in Italy, and presidents abroad. Each of these has his secretary. The presidents and secretaries know the members, but members don't know each other, until it's considered necessary. Every member of the Brotherhood is identified by a small round mark burnt into the skin, high up on the inside of their left arm.'

He rolled up his sleeve and showed me his own mark.

'If anyone betrays the Brotherhood,' he went on, 'he is a dead man. Another member, a distant stranger or a neighbour, will be ordered to kill him. No one can leave the society — ever.'

Pesca paused, then continued. 'In Italy I was chosen to be secretary. The members at that time were brought face to face with the president, and were also brought face to face with me. You understand me — I see it in your face. But tell me nothing, I beg you! Let me stay free of a responsibility which horrifies me.

'I do not know the man at the opera,' he said finally. 'If he knows me, he is so changed, or disguised, that I do not know him. Leave me now, Walter. I have said enough.'

'I thank you with all my heart, Pesca,' I said. 'You will never, never regret the trust you have placed in me.'

Walking home, my heart beat with excitement. Here at last, surely, was my weapon against the Count! I was convinced he was a member of the Brotherhood, had betrayed it, and believed that he had been recognized tonight. His life was now in danger. What else could explain his extreme terror at seeing Pesca?

And what would he do next? Leave London as fast as he could. If I went to his house and tried to stop him, he would not hesitate to kill me. To protect myself, I had to make his safety depend on mine. I hurried home and wrote this letter to Pesca:

The man at the opera, Fosco, is a member of your society and has betrayed it. Go instantly to his house at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. I am already dead. Use your power against him without delay.

I signed and dated the letter, and wrote on the envelope: Keep until nine o'clock tomorrow morning. If you do not hear from me before then, open the envelope and read the contents.

I then found a messenger, told him to deliver the letter and bring back a note from Professor Pesca to say he had received it. Twenty minutes later I had the note, and as I was leaving, Marian came to the door, looking anxious.

'It's tonight, isn't it?' she said. 'You're going to the Count.'

'Yes, it's the last chance, and the best.'

'Oh, Walter, not alone! Let me go with you. Don't go alone?'

'No, Marian. You must stay here and guard Laura for me. Then I will be easy in my mind when I face the Count.'

*  *  *

As I approached the Count's house, I passed the man with the scar on his cheek, whom I had noticed earlier at the opera. What was he doing here, I wondered?

I sent in my card, and I still do not know why the Count let me into his house at half past eleven at night. Was he just curious to see me? He would not have known that I was at the opera with Pesca, and I suppose he thought he had nothing to fear from me.

He was still in his evening suit, and there was a travelling case on the floor, with books, papers, and clothes all around him. My guess had been right.

'You come here on business, Mr Hartright?' he said, looking at me with curiosity. 'I cannot think what that might be.'

'You are obviously preparing for a journey,' I said. 'That is my business. I know why you are leaving London.'

'So you know why I am leaving London?' He went over to a table and opened a drawer.' Tell me the reason, if you please.'

'I can show you the reason,' I said. 'Roll up the sleeve on your left arm, and you will see it.'

His cold grey eyes stared into mine. There was a long heartbeat of silence. I was as certain as if I had seen it that he had a gun hidden in the drawer, and that my life hung by a thread.

'Wait a little,' I said. 'Before you act, I advise you to read this note.' Moving slowly and carefully, I passed him Pesca's note.

He read the lines aloud.

Your letter is received. If I don't hear from you before nine o'clock, I will open the envelope when the clock strikes.

Another man might have needed an explanation, but not the Count. His expression changed, and he closed the drawer.

'You are cleverer than I thought,' he said. 'I cannot leave before nine as I have to wait for a passport to be delivered. Your information may be true or may be false — where did you get it?'

'I refuse to tell you.'

'And that unsigned note you showed me — who wrote it?'

'A man whom you have every reason to fear.'

A pause. 'What do you want of me, Mr Hartright? Is it to do with a lady, perhaps?'

'Yes, my wife,' I answered.

He looked at me in real amazement, and I saw at once that he no longer considered me a dangerous man. He folded his arms and listened to me with a cold smile.

'You are guilty of a wicked crime,' I went on. 'But you can keep the money. All I want is a signed confession of the plot and a proof of the date my wife travelled to London.'

'Good!' he said. 'Those are your conditions; here are mine. One, Madame Fosco and I leave the house when we please and you do not try to stop us. Two, you wait here until my agent comes early tomorrow morning and you give him an order to get back your letter unopened. You then allow us half an hour to leave the house. Three, you agree to fight me at a place to be arranged later abroad. Do you accept my conditions — yes or no?'

His quick decision, his cleverness and force of character amazed me. For a second I hesitated. Should I let him escape? Yes, the evidence I needed to prove Laura's identity was far more important than revenge.

'I accept your conditions,' I said.

At once, he called for coffee and sat down to write. He wrote quickly for quite some time. Finally, he jumped up, declared that he had finished and read out his statement, which I accepted as satisfactory. He gave me the address of the company from whom he had hired the cab to collect Laura, and also gave me a letter signed by Sir Percival. It was dated 25th July, and announced the journey of Lady Glyde to London on 26th July. So there it was. On 25th July, the date of her death certificate in London, Laura was alive in Hampshire, about to make a journey the next day.

The Count then called in Madame Fosco to watch me while he slept. Early in the morning his agent arrived and I wrote a note for Pesca. An hour later, the agent returned with my unopened letter and the Count's passport.

'Remember the third condition!' the Count said as he left. 'You will hear from me, Mr Hartright.' Then he and the Countess got into the agent's cab with their bags and drove away, leaving the agent with me to make sure I did not follow.

As I watched them leave, another cab went by and I saw inside the man with the scar on his cheek. What was his business with the Count, I wondered? I had seen him too often now for it to be chance. Perhaps I had fought my own battle with the Count just in time. You cannot get a signed confession out of a dead man.

While I waited for the agreed half hour, I read the document that the Count had written for me.


Statement by Isidor Ottavio Baldassare Fosco

In the summer of 1850 I arrived in England on delicate political business and stayed with my friend, Sir Percival Glyde. We both urgently needed large amounts of money. The only person who had such money was his wife, from whom not a penny could be obtained until her death. To make matters worse, my friend had other private problems. A woman called Anne Catherick was hidden in the neighbourhood, was communicating with Lady Glyde, and knew a secret which could ruin him. And if he was ruined, what would happen to our financial interests?

The first thing to do was to find Anne Catherick, who, I was told, looked very much like Lady Glyde and who had escaped from a mad-house. I had the fantastic idea of changing the names, places and lives of Lady Glyde and Anne Catherick, the one with the other. The wonderful results of this change would be the gain of £ 30,000 and the keeping of Sir Percival's secret.

I found Anne Catherick and persuaded her and her friend to return to London. I rented a house in St John's Wood for myself, and obtained from Mr Fairlie in Limmeridge an invitation for Lady Glyde to visit. For my plan to work, it was necessary for Lady Glyde to leave Blackwater Park alone and stay a night at my house on her way to Limmeridge. This plan was made easier by Miss Halcombe's illness. I returned to Blackwater Park, and when Miss Halcombe was out of danger, I got rid of the doctor and instructed Sir Percival to get rid of the servants.

Next, we sent Mrs Michelson away for a few days, and one night Madame Fosco, Mrs Rubelle and I moved the sleeping Miss Halcombe to an unused part of the house. I left for London in the morning with my wife, leaving Sir Percival to persuade Lady Glyde that her sister had gone to Limmeridge and that she should follow her, breaking her journey in London at my house.

On 24th July, with my wife's help, I got hold of Anne Catherick, and took her to my house as Lady Glyde. However, when she saw no one she recognized, she screamed with fear and, to my horror, the shock to her weak heart caused her to collapse. By the end of the following day, she was dead. Dead on the 25th, and Lady Glyde was not due to arrive in London till the 26th!

It was too late to change the plan. I remained calm and carried on. On the 26th, leaving the false Lady Glyde dead in my house, I collected the true Lady Glyde from the railway station and took her to Mrs Rubelle's house. The two medical men I had hired (shall we say) were easily persuaded to certify the confused and frightened Lady Glyde as mentally ill. Then I gave her a drug and had Mrs Rubelle dress her in Anne Catherick's clothes. The next day, the 27th, she was delivered to the asylum, where she was received with great surprise, but without suspicion. The false Lady Glyde was buried at Limmeridge. I attended the funeral with suitable expressions of deep sympathy.

One final question remains. If Anne Catherick had not died when she did, what would I have done? I would, of course, have given her a happy release from the prison of life.


tempt v. to make someone want to have or do something 引诱

contradict v. be in conflict with 与……相矛盾

perform v. act 表演

nudge v. push gently 轻轻地碰

inexpressible adj. that can not be expressed 难以说清的

disguise v. alter the appearance so as to conceal the identity 伪装

curious adj. eager to learn; inquisitive 好奇的

aloud adv. audibly 出声地

agent n. a person who acts for another in business, politics etc. 代理人

delicate adj. tricky 微妙的

fantastic adj. wonderful 绝好的

14.认罪

两个星期之后,我们回到了伦敦。我开始准备与伯爵的较量。现在是5月初,他租房的期限到6月。享受着与劳拉新婚的幸福(我们从未跟她提起过伯爵),有时我忍不住想改变主意,让一切都过去。但是劳拉仍会做梦,可怕的噩梦,她常常在梦里惊叫起来,因此我明白必须继续原来的计划。

首先,我想尽量多了解一些伯爵的事。玛丽安告诉我,他已经很多年没有回意大利了。我想,他是不是由于政治原因被迫离开意大利的呢?但是玛丽安又说,在布莱克沃特庄园他好像收到过贴着意大利邮票的官方来信,这两者是互相矛盾的。也许他是间谍。这样可以解释为什么他在自己的阴谋得逞后,还在英国逗留那么久。有谁能告诉我答案呢?也许该再找个意大利人问问——猛然间我想到了老朋友,佩斯卡教授。

去见佩斯卡教授前,我决定先去看一下伯爵,因为到目前为止,我还从来没有见过他。于是一天早上,我去了圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特大街,在他的住处附近等他出现。最后,他终于出来了,朝伦敦市中心走去。我在后面跟着他。玛丽安跟我提过他身躯肥胖,衣着入时,但我没想到这个人那么精力旺盛,神采飞扬。

在牛津街附近,他停住脚步看一个歌剧的海报,然后走进了不远处的售票处。我过去看了一下海报,发现演出就在晚上,伯爵很可能会出现在观众当中。

我想假如邀请佩斯卡来看歌剧,就可以把伯爵指给他,看他是否认识。于是,我自己买了两张票,给佩斯卡写了封短信,晚上找他一起去看歌剧。

我们进入剧院的时候,音乐已经响起来了,剧场里座无虚席。不过剧场两边还有站的地方。我环顾四周,看到伯爵坐在前面几排的座位上,于是我也站到了那一排,佩斯卡站在我旁边。第一部分演出结束了,观众们,包括伯爵在内,都起身向周围张望。

在伯爵朝我们这个方向看的时候,我用臂肘碰了一下佩斯卡,“看见那个高大的胖子了吗?你认识他吗?”

“不认识,”佩斯卡回答,“他很有名吗?你为什么让我看他?”

“因为我需要更多地了解关于他的情况。他是意大利人,叫福斯科伯爵。你听说过这个名字吗?来,站这个台阶上,你会看得更清楚些。”

一个瘦瘦的金发男子站在我们的旁边,他的左脸上有一道疤。我注意到他看了看佩斯卡,又顺着佩斯卡的视线看了看伯爵。佩斯卡再一次对我说,他不认识那个人,就在他说话的时候,伯爵朝我们这边看过来。

这两个意大利人的目光相遇了。

那一瞬间,我敢肯定地说,佩斯卡可能不认识伯爵,但伯爵一定认识佩斯卡!

不仅是认识,更令人惊奇的是伯爵害怕佩斯卡。伯爵脸上的表情凝固了,像死人一样毫无血色,冷酷的灰眼睛恐惧地盯着这边。

脸上有疤的人似乎饶有兴趣地在一旁看着佩斯卡对伯爵的影响。

“那个胖子怎么那样看着我!”佩斯卡说,转过头看着我,“我从未见过他呀。”

佩斯卡扭头的时候,伯爵转身快步向剧场后边走去,那里人最多。我一把抓住佩斯卡的胳膊,不顾他的惊讶,拉着他紧追伯爵。那个脸上有疤的瘦子显然也准备离开剧场,并且已经走到了我们的前面。等我和佩斯卡赶到入口,伯爵和那个瘦子都已经不见了。

“佩斯卡,”我赶忙说,“我必须和你单独谈谈,我们到你的住处去谈可以吗?”

“这到底是怎么回事?”佩斯卡大声说。

我没回答,只是催着他赶紧走。伯爵离开剧场的样子,还有他迫不及待地要躲避佩斯卡,使我担心他可能会逃得更远——我可能再也找不到他了。

到了佩斯卡的住处,我以最快的速度向他讲述了事情的经过,他充满迷惑和惊讶地望着我。

他认识你——他很怕你。他离开剧场就是要逃避你,”我说,“这其中一定有原因,佩斯卡!回忆一下你来英国以前的经历。你是由于政治原因离开意大利的,我不是问你那些政治原因,不过那个人如此惊慌会不会同你的过去有什么关联?”

令我非常吃惊的是,这些本来无关紧要的话好像令佩斯卡非常惊恐。他的脸色变得煞白,身体开始颤抖。

“沃尔特!”他低声说,“你不知道你问了什么。”

我两眼紧盯着他,“佩斯卡,请原谅。我不是有意要给你带来痛苦,我说那些话只是因为那个人给我妻子带来了巨大的伤害。请你原谅我。”

我起身要离开,还没走到门口,他叫住了我。

“等一下,”他说,“你救过我的命,你有权从我这里知道你想要知道的东西,即使这会要了我的命。我唯一的请求是,即使你发现了我的过去同那个福斯科的关系,你也不要告诉我。”

接着,他开始讲他的经历,过去的记忆卷土重来,令他脸色煞白。

“我年轻的时候参加了一个秘密政治社团,现在还是它的成员。我们姑且叫它兄弟社团,我不能告诉你真实的名称。我当时完成了很多出生入死的任务,也做了一些给其他成员带来危险的事,所以社团命令我到英国待命。我服从命令来了英国——一直在等——现在还在等。我可能明天就被召回,也许是10年以后。我不知道。

“兄弟社团的宗旨是为人民争取权利。它在意大利有一个主席,国外有很多主席。每个主席都有秘书。主席和秘书认识所有的成员,但除非在必要的情况下,成员们彼此都不认识。每个兄弟社团成员的左臂内侧靠上的地方都有一个很小的圆形烙印,这是他们的记号。”

他卷起衣袖,给我看他自己的烙印。

“任何人背叛了兄弟社团,”他接着说,“他肯定会被处死。其他成员,也许是一个他不认识的陌生人,也许是他的邻居,会奉命杀死他。任何人不能退出社团——永远都不可以。”

佩斯卡停了一会儿又说:“在意大利,我被选为秘书,所有的成员那时都被带来见主席,当然也就见到了。你明白了我的意思——我从你的表情看出来了。但是,什么也别跟我说,求你了!我不想做我必须做的事,我感到害怕。

“我不认识剧场的那个人,”他最后说,“如果他认识,那他一定跟以前变化很大,或者伪装了自己,让我认不出来了。你现在走吧,沃尔特。我说得够多了。”

“我衷心地感谢你,佩斯卡,”我说,“你永远不会为信任我而后悔的。”

走在回家的路上,我的心情激动不已。我终于找到了对付伯爵的武器。我敢肯定他原来是一个兄弟社团成员,后来背叛了社团,他认为自己今晚被认出来了。现在他的生命很危险。不然他见到佩斯卡为什么那样害怕呢?

那他接着会做什么呢?尽快离开伦敦。如果我去他的住处拦住他,他肯定会毫不犹豫地杀了我。为保护我自己,我必须让他的生命安全地攥在我的手里。我赶忙回到家,给佩斯卡写了一封信:

剧场的那个人,福斯科,是你们社团的一个成员,他背叛了社团。赶快到他的住处圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特街5号。我已经死了。请用你的力量立即干掉他。

我签了名,写上日期,又在信封上写道:等到明天上午9点。如果到那时还没有我的消息,再打开信封读里面的内容。

然后,我找了一个信使,叫他把信送走并带回佩斯卡的回复,说他已经收到信了。20分钟后,我拿到了回复的纸条。我刚要离开,玛丽安出现在门口,脸上露出担忧的表情。

“就是今天晚上吗?”她说,“你要去找伯爵。”

“对,这是最后的机会,也是最好的机会。”

“噢,沃尔特,别一个人去!让我跟你去吧,不要一个人去!”

“不行,玛丽安。你必须留在这里替我保护劳拉。那样,我面对伯爵的时候才会放心。”

*  *  *

快到伯爵住处的时候,我碰见了脸上有疤的那个人,早些时候在剧场就见过他。他在这儿做什么,我心里很纳闷。

我把名片递进去,我到现在也不明白,为什么夜里11点半伯爵还让我进去。他对我好奇,想见我?他并不知道我和佩斯卡同在剧场,我猜想他觉得我没有什么好怕的。

他还穿着晚礼服,地上有一个旅行箱,他周围满是书籍、文件和衣服。我猜的没错。

“你来这里有事,哈特里特先生?”他一边说,一边用好奇的眼光打量我,“我想不出会是什么事。”

“你像是在准备出门旅行,”我说,“这就是我来的原因。我知道你为什么要离开伦敦。”

“你知道我为什么要离开伦敦?”他走到一张桌旁,打开抽屉,“如果你愿意,说说为什么。”

“我可以让你看看为什么,”我说,“把你左边的衣袖卷起,就能看到。”

他那冷酷的灰眼睛一动不动地盯着我。接下来是一阵令人紧张的寂静。我就像亲眼所见一样清楚,那抽屉里藏着枪,我现在命悬一线。

“等一下,”我说,“你动手之前,我建议你看看这个纸条。”我慢慢地、小心翼翼地把佩斯卡的纸条递给他。

他出声读着纸条。

你的信收到了。如果9点以前没有你的消息,9点整,钟一响我就打开信封。

假如换作另外一个人,可能需要一些解释,但伯爵不需要。他脸上的表情变了,他关上了抽屉。

“你比我想的要聪明,”他说,“我9点以前走不了,我得等人给我送护照来。你得到的信息可能是真的,也可能是假的。你是从哪儿知道的?”

“我不会告诉你的。”

“你给我的没有签名的纸条是谁写的?”

“一个你非常害怕的人。”

他停了一会儿,“你要我做什么,哈特里特先生?是不是跟一位女士有关?”

“是的,是我妻子。”我回答。

他非常吃惊地看着我。看得出他不再认为我会给他带来危险了。他双手交叉抱在胸前,面带冷笑听我继续说下去。

“你犯下了严重的罪行,”我接着说道,“但是,你可以留着你得到的钱。我只要一个由你签名的认罪书,还有我妻子回伦敦的日期证明。”

“好!”他说,“这是你的条件,我的条件是:第一,福斯科夫人和我在我们愿意的时候离开这里,你不要阻止我们。第二,你呆在这里,明天一早我的代理人过来,你让他取回那封还没有打开的信。然后,你要给我们半个小时的时间离开这里。第三,你答应跟我在国外找一个地方决斗。你接受我的条件吗——是还是否?”

他的迅速决断,他的精干和意志力令我震惊。我犹豫了一会儿。我应该让他逃走吗?是的,证明劳拉身份的证据比复仇重要得多。

“我接受你的条件。”我说。

他随即叫人拿来咖啡,坐下开始写。他落笔如飞,写了很长时间。最后,他站起来,说他已经写完了并念给我听。我觉得还满意。他给了我他租车接劳拉的那家公司的地址,同时给我的还有珀西瓦尔爵士签名的一封信。信的日期是7月25日,里面说格莱德夫人将于7月26日启程去伦敦。这就是证据。7月25日,即死亡证明上宣告劳拉死于伦敦的日子,劳拉还在汉普郡活着准备第二天的旅行。

然后,伯爵把福斯科夫人叫进来,让她看着我,他自己去睡觉。第二天一早,他的代理人来了,我给佩斯卡写了封短信。一个小时后,代理人拿着我那封没打开的信和护照回来了。

“别忘了第三个条件!”伯爵临走时说,“你会收到我的信的,哈特里特先生。”说完,他和伯爵夫人坐上代理人的马车离开了这里,代理人留下来,确保我不跟踪他们。

我看着他们离开,这时另一辆马车驶过去,车里坐着那个脸上有疤的人。他和伯爵有什么瓜葛?我看到他好几次了,不应该是巧合。或许我跟伯爵的较量正是时候。他要是死了,我就没法得到他签名的笔录了。

在约定的半小时里,我读了伯爵写给我的认罪书。

伊西多·奥塔维奥·鲍尔德塞尔·福斯科的证词

1850年夏天,由于微妙的政治原因我来到英国,同我的朋友珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士住在一起。我们两人都急需一大笔钱。唯一拥有这笔钱的人是他妻子,但是他妻子不死,我们一分钱也得不到。更糟糕的是,我的朋友又遇到了别的麻烦事。一个叫安妮·凯瑟里克的女人藏在我们附近,她在同格莱德夫人接触,并且掌握着一个可以毁掉珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。如果他完蛋了,那我们的经济利益怎么办呢?

我们要做的第一件事就是找到安妮·凯瑟里克。我了解到她的长相和格莱德夫人极为相似。她是从精神病院逃出来的。我突发奇想,把格莱德夫人同安妮·凯瑟里克的名字、住处、经历互换一下。互换的结果既可以让我们得到3万英镑,又能够保住珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。

我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,说服她和她的朋友回伦敦去。我自己在圣约翰伍德租了房子,同时从利默里奇的费尔利先生那里得到了邀请格莱德夫人去看望他的信。要实现我的计划,必须让格莱德夫人一个人离开布莱克沃特庄园,在去往利默里奇的途中在我家里住一夜。哈尔库姆小姐的病让我的计划更容易进行了。我回到布莱克沃特庄园,等哈尔库姆小姐一脱离危险,就辞退了医生,并且让珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了所有仆人。

下一步,我们让米切尔森太太离开庄园几天。一天晚上,福斯科夫人、鲁贝尔太太和我把昏睡中的哈尔库姆小姐抬到了一个没有人住的房间里。转天一早,我和夫人赶往伦敦,留下珀西瓦尔爵士劝说格莱德夫人,让她相信她姐姐已经去了利默里奇,她也应该去找她,途中在伦敦我的家休息。

7月24日,在我妻子的协助下,我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,把她带到我的住处,假装就是格莱德夫人。然而,当安妮·凯瑟里克看到没有一个她认识的人时,吓得叫了起来。令我非常害怕的是,惊吓使她脆弱的心脏无法承受,转天她就死了。她是25日死的,可是格莱德夫人26日才能到伦敦!

改变计划已经来不及了。我尽量保持头脑冷静,继续着原来的计划。26日,我把已死的假格莱德夫人留在家里,到车站去接真正的格莱德夫人,带她到鲁贝尔太太家。我雇用的(可以这样说)两个医生很容易就被说服了,他们证明迷惑而惊恐的格莱德夫人患了精神病。而后,我给她吃了镇静药,让鲁贝尔太太给她穿上安妮·凯瑟里克的衣服。第二天,也就是27日,格莱德夫人被送进精神病院,那里的人非常吃惊,但没有人怀疑。假格莱德夫人被埋葬在利默里奇。我出席了葬礼,表现出应有的悲伤与同情。

还有最后一个问题,如果安妮·凯瑟里克没有死的话,我会怎么办呢?我当然很高兴帮她摆脱牢笼般的人生。

15
The proof

When the half hour had passed, I returned home. After a brief explanation to Laura and Marian, I hurried back to St John's Wood to find the cab-driver whom the Count had hired to collect Laura at the station. He wrote me a statement, which he and a witness signed, saying that on 26th July 1850 he had driven a Count Fosco to the railway station where they had collected a Lady Glyde. He remembered Lady Glyde's name, he said, from the labels on her luggage.

Then I went to Mr Kyrle's office and presented him with the proof of Laura's identity — the letter from Sir Percival, the statement by the cab-driver, the confession by the Count, and the death certificate. Amazed, he congratulated me, and agreed to accompany us to Limmeridge the next day, where I intended to have Laura publicly received and recognized.

Early the next morning Laura, Marian, Mr Kyrle and I took the train to Limmeridge. Laura and Marian stayed at first in a hotel while Mr Kyrle and I went to the house to deal with Mr Fairlie. He complained like a child, saying how was he to know his niece was alive when he was told she was dead? Between us, the lawyer and I made him sign letters calling all those who had attended the false funeral to come to the house the next day.

As I led Laura into her childhood home the following morning, there was a murmur of surprise and interest from the waiting crowd of villagers and neighbours. The business was soon done. I read out the story of the plot against Laura, and Mr Kyrle announced that everything I had said was proved by the strongest evidence. I put my arm around Laura, raised her up, and called to the crowd:

'Are you all agreed that this is the Laura Fairlie you knew?'

'There she is, alive and well — God bless her!' It was an old man at the back of the room who began it, and in an instant everybody was shouting and cheering together.

Later, in the churchyard, we watched a stone worker remove Laura's name from the gravestone. In its place he put this:

ANNE CATHERICK

25TH JULY 1850

We returned to London the following day, happy in the thought that the long struggle was now over.

*  *  *

Several days later Pesca came to see me, and asked for a quiet word in my ear. He had just returned from Paris.

'I have news for you, my friend,' he said. 'You need not worry any more about the man at the opera. His body was found in the river Seine yesterday and now lies in the morgue in Paris. He was killed by knife wounds to the heart.'

'Count Fosco is dead?' I said, amazed. 'Are you sure?'

'I saw the body with my own eyes. He was wearing a French workman's clothes, and had a different name, of course, but he was the fat man we saw at the opera that night. No question.'

'But how do you know this?' I asked.

Pesca hesitated. 'A man brought me some information,' he said. 'I had to see the body, and send a report about it.'

'A man,' I said. 'What kind of man?'

'A stranger,' said Pesca. 'I didn't know him. A man with a scar on his left cheek.' He saw the understanding in my face, and held up his hand. 'No more questions, my friend. Please!'

We never spoke about it again, but I think Pesca was telling me that the Brotherhood had taken their revenge. And so Count Fosco, that extraordinary, evil man, passed from this world.

*  *  *

The following year our first child was born — a son. Six months later my newspaper sent me to Ireland and, when I returned, I found a note from my wife saying she and Marian and little Walter had gone to Limmeridge House. She begged me to follow as soon as possible. Very surprised, I caught the next train. When I got there, Marian and Laura told me Mr Fairlie was dead and that Mr Kyrle had advised them to go to Limmeridge House.

Laura came close to me and I half realized some great change was happening in our lives.

'Do you know who this is, Walter?' Marian asked, holding up my little son, with tears of happiness in her eyes. 'This is the boy who will one day inherit Limmeridge House.'

So she spoke. In writing those last words, I have written everything. Marian was the good friend of our lives — let Marian end our story.


label n. a small piece of paper, card etc. attached to an object and giving information about it 标签

congratulate v. express pleasure at the happiness or good fortune or excellence of a person 祝贺

morgue n. a room or building in which dead bodies may be kept until burial or cremation 停尸间

15.证据

alt

那半个小时过去了,我回到家里。简单地向劳拉和玛丽安说明了情况后,我立即赶回圣约翰伍德去找那个伯爵雇来到车站接劳拉的车夫。那人给我写了份证词,他和另一个证人都签了字。证词说,1850年7月26日他驾车送福斯科伯爵去车站,接了一位格莱德夫人。他说还记得格莱德夫人的名字,是在行李标签上看到的。

然后,我去了克尔先生的办公室,给他看了证明劳拉身份的证据——珀西瓦尔爵士的信、马车夫的证词、伯爵的认罪书和那份死亡证明。克尔先生很吃惊,接着向我表示祝贺并且答应第二天陪我们到利默里奇,我准备让人们公开地接受和认可劳拉。

转天的一大早,劳拉、玛丽安、克尔先生和我乘火车前往利默里奇。劳拉和玛丽安先在一家旅店里休息,克尔先生和我去庄园与费尔利先生交涉。费尔利先生像孩子一样抱怨说,有人告诉他他侄女死了,他怎么会知道他侄女还活着?在只有我们三个人的情况下,克尔先生和我让他在事先准备好的信上签字,邀请所有参加那场假葬礼的人第二天到费尔利家来。

第二天早晨,当我带着劳拉走进她儿时的家时,等候在那里的村民和邻居们发出惊奇的低语声。很快我们进入了正题。我大声宣读了针对劳拉的罪恶阴谋的全过程,克尔先生当众宣布我说的每一件事都证据确凿。我搂住劳拉,扶她起来,高声对众人说:

“你们说这是不是你们认识的劳拉·费尔利?”

“是她,她还好好地活着——上帝保佑她!”一位站在屋子后面的老人首先说,其他人也都立刻欢呼起来。

后来,在教堂墓地里,我们亲眼看着一位石匠把劳拉的名字从墓碑上凿去,在原来的地方刻上:

安妮·凯瑟里克

卒于1850年7月25日

转天,我们返回了伦敦,想到漫长的斗争终于结束了,我们都非常高兴。

*  *  *

过了几天,佩斯卡来看我,要跟我单独聊聊。他刚从巴黎回来。

“我有重要的消息要告诉你,我的朋友,”他说,“你不用再担心剧场里的那个人了,昨天在塞纳河发现了他的尸体,现在他的尸体停放在巴黎的停尸间。他是被人用刀子刺进心脏而死的。”

“福斯科伯爵已经死了?”我吃惊地问,“你能肯定吗?”

“我亲眼看了他的尸体,他穿着法国工人的制服,当然也换了名字,但他就是那天晚上我们在剧场见到的那个胖子。一点儿没错。”

“可你是怎么知道这个消息的呢?”我问。

佩斯卡犹豫了一下。“有人告诉我的,”他说,“我必须亲眼看到他的尸体,然后发一个报告。”

“有人,”我说,“是什么人?”

“一个陌生人,”佩斯卡回答,“我不认识那个人,他的左脸上有一道疤。”看到我脸上了然的表情,他抬了抬手,“请不要多问了,我的朋友!”

我们再没有提起这件事,不过我想佩斯卡是要告诉我兄弟社团已经采取了复仇行动。就这样,福斯科伯爵,那个能力不俗的恶徒从这个世界上消失了。

*  *  *

第二年,我们的第一个孩子出世了——是个儿子。6个月以后,我供职的那家报社派我去了爱尔兰。我回来的时候,看到妻子留给我的一封短信,信上说她和玛丽安还有小沃尔特去了利默里奇庄园。她让我尽快去找他们。我感到很惊讶,赶下一班火车去了那里。我到那儿之后,玛丽安和劳拉告诉我费尔利先生去世了,是克尔先生建议她们到利默里奇庄园去的。

劳拉走到我身边,我朦胧地意识到我们的生活将要发生什么大事。

“你知道这是谁吗,沃尔特?”玛丽安一边举起我的小儿子,一边问我,眼睛里充满了喜悦的泪水,“这个孩子将来有一天会继承利默里奇庄园。”

她就是这样说的。写完了最后几句话,我的讲述就到这里了。玛丽安是我们的终生好友——就让她结束我们的故事吧。

14.The confession

PART THREE
THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
第三部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

9
The gravestone

On 13th October 1850 I left the wild forests of Central America and returned to England. I had escaped death by disease, death by war, and death by drowning, and hoped that these experiences had strengthened me to face my future — a future without Laura Fairlie. I still remembered her as Laura Fairlie, and could not think of her by her husband's name.

The first thing I did was to visit my mother and sister in their Hampstead cottage. The joy of our meeting, however, soon turned to sadness. I have no secrets from my mother, and when I saw the loving pity in her eyes, I feared the worst.

The news was soon told. I tried hard not to let my sorrow spoil the happiness of my return for my mother and sister, but by the third day I knew I had to go away alone for a while.

'Let me go up to Limmeridge,' I begged my mother. 'I can bear it better when I have seen her grave.'

It was a warm autumn afternoon when I arrived at the station and walked down the familiar road, seeing in the distance the high white walls of Limmeridge House. In the churchyard I found the grave and knelt down beside the gravestone, closing my eyes.

Oh my love! My Love! My dear, dear Love!

Hours passed, and the evening sunlight threw long shadows among the sleeping places of the dead. I had lost all sense of time, kneeling there. Then, in the silence, I heard the soft sound of footsteps on the grass.

I looked up.

Beyond me, standing together by the churchyard wall, were two women, their veils down, hiding their faces. They were looking towards the grave, looking towards me.

Two.

They came closer, and stopped. One of them lifted her veil, and in the still evening light I saw the face of Marian Halcombe. A changed face. Thin and pale, full of pain and fear.

The woman with the veiled face came towards me slowly. Marian Halcombe sank to her knees, murmuring, 'Oh God, help him! Please, please help him, God!'

The veiled woman came on, slowly and silently. I looked at her — at her, and at no one else, from that moment. She had possession of me, body and soul. She stopped by the side of the gravestone, and we stood face to face with the grave between us.

'Oh God, help him, help him!'

The woman lifted her veil.

In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde...

Laura, Lady Glyde, was standing by the gravestone, looking at me over her grave.

*  *  *

A life suddenly changed. A new future before me, like the sunlit view from a mountain top. I leave my story in the quiet shadow of Limmeridge church, and begin again, one week later, in the noise and rush of a London street.

I have rented rooms under a different name. Marian and Laura, using the same name, are said to be my sisters. I earn our bread by doing drawings for cheap magazines. We employ no servant; my elder sister, Marian, does the housework with her own hands. Marian and I are known to be the friends of mad Anne Catherick (address unknown), who falsely claims the identity of Lady Glyde. To the rest of the world, Laura, Lady Glyde, is dead. Dead to her uncle, who has refused to recognize her; dead to the lawyers, who have passed her fortune to her husband and aunt.

But to Marian and me she is alive! Penniless and sadly changed — her beauty faded, her mind confused — but alive, with her poor drawing teacher to fight her battles and to win her way back to the world of living beings. She is mine at last — mine to support, to protect, to defend. And mine to love.


drown v. to kill by submerging and suffocating in liquid 淹死;溺死

strengthen v. make stronger 变得坚强

veil n. a piece of fabric attached to a woman's hat 面纱

earn one's bread earn one's living 维持生计

penniless adj. having no money 身无分文的

9.墓碑

1850年10月13日我离开中美洲的原始森林,回到了英国。我一次次逃过疾病、战争和洪水带来的死亡危险。我希望这些经历能够使我更加坚强地面对未来——没有劳拉的未来。在我心里她依然是劳拉·费尔利,我无法把她冠以她丈夫的姓氏。

我回来后的第一件事是到汉普斯特德看望母亲和妹妹。欢聚的快乐很快转化为悲伤。我没有任何秘密瞒着母亲,从她充满爱怜和同情的眼光里,我预感到最坏的事情发生了。

她们把消息告诉了我。我尽最大努力不让自己的悲哀破坏我回家带给母亲和妹妹的喜悦。但是,回来的第三天,我觉得必须一个人离开一段时间。

“让我到利默里奇去一趟吧,”我恳求着母亲,“看到她的坟墓,我可以更好地接受这一切。”

那是一个秋日的午后,天气很暖和,我到达目的地车站,走在熟悉的大路上,望着远处利默里奇庄园的白色高墙。在教堂墓地里,我找到了劳拉的墓,在她的墓碑前跪下来,闭上了双眼。

我的爱人我的爱人我最亲爱的人

几个小时过去了,落日的余辉在死者的安息地投下长长的影子。我跪在那里,完全没有了时间概念。这时,寂静中传来人走在草地上的脚步声。

我抬起头来。

不远处,教堂墓地的围墙边站着两个女人,面纱遮住了她们的脸。她们正朝墓地张望,正朝张望。

两个女人。

她们朝我走来。其中一个掀起了面纱,借着仅有的一点儿光线,我看出那是玛丽安·哈尔库姆小姐。她的脸变得跟从前不一样了:清瘦而苍白,充满了痛苦和恐惧。

头戴面纱的女人缓慢地向我走来。玛丽安·哈尔库姆跪下来,轻声说:“噢,上帝,帮帮他吧,帮帮他吧,上帝!”

头戴面纱的女人向我走来,缓慢地,无言地向我走来。我注视着她——目不转睛地久久注视着她。她占据了我的一切,我的灵魂和肉体。她在墓碑前停住脚步,我们隔着坟墓互相注视着。

“噢,上帝,帮帮他,帮帮他吧!”

那个女人掀起了面纱。

爱妻劳拉·格莱德夫人之墓……

劳拉·格莱德夫人,她就站在墓碑旁,隔着坟墓望着我。

alt

*  *  *

生活突然间变了。一个崭新的未来展现在我的面前,就像在山顶上看到的撒满阳光的景色。我把过去的故事留在了利默里奇教堂那寂静的阴影中,一星期后在喧闹、繁忙的伦敦开始了新的生活。

我换了一个姓氏租了房子。玛丽安和劳拉也用同样的姓氏,对外人就说是我的姐妹。我靠给廉价杂志画画维持生计。我们没有请仆人,我的姐姐,玛丽安亲自做家务。我和玛丽安对外就说是疯女人安妮·凯瑟里克(住址不详)的朋友,那疯女人总说自己是格莱德夫人。对世界上其他人来说,劳拉·格莱德夫人已经死了;对拒不承认她的叔叔,她已经死了;对把她的财产转给她丈夫和姑妈的律师,她也已经死了。

但是对于玛丽安和我,她还活着!她身无分文,人也变了——她的美丽在消逝,头脑一片混乱——但她还活着,她那可怜的绘画教师要为她奋争,使她重新回到真实的生活中来。她终于属于我了——由我供养、呵护、保护,由我所爱。

10
The rescue

At the first opportunity we had, Marian told me everything that had happened to her and Laura. The hardest part for her was after she had returned to Limmeridge House.

'I was in despair, Walter,' she said. 'Mr Kyrle's investigation was finished, and had shown nothing, he said. Mr Fairlie was no help at all — I heard that he didn't even leave his room to go to the funeral! But he did show me a letter he'd received from Count Fosco, which contained news of Anne Catherick. The Count said that Anne Catherick had been found and put back in the asylum from which she had escaped. But because she hated Sir Percival and wanted to make trouble for him, she was now claiming that she was not Anne Catherick at all, but Lady Glyde. The Count warned Mr Fairlie that if she escaped again, she might try to annoy members of Lady Glyde's family.

'I wasn't well enough to do anything for about a month after returning to Limmeridge, but when I felt stronger, I decided to make some investigations myself. First, I planned to visit the asylum in London and talk to poor Anne Catherick, to find out why she was claiming to be Laura. I knew the address because you had given it to me, all those months ago.

'Well, Walter, you can guess what's coming, I'm sure. The director of the asylum, who seemed an honest person, told me that Anne Catherick had been brought back on 27th July. He was puzzled by some odd personal changes in her, but assumed they were caused by her mental illness. He then called a nurse to take me to Anne Catherick, who was walking in the gardens.

'Imagine the shock, Walter — seeing my dead sister walking towards me in that garden! We just ran into each other's arms, unable to say a word. How the nurse stared at us!'

'I think I know how you must have felt,' I said. 'I shall never forget in the churchyard at Limmeridge... But tell me, however did you get Laura out of the asylum?'

'Bribery, Walter. I didn't want to risk a legal battle and all the delay that would involve, so I persuaded the nurse that a terrible mistake had been made and she would be doing a good thing in helping Anne Catherick escape. And I offered her £400. The plan went smoothly, and by early afternoon the next day Laura and I were on the train to Cumberland.'

'And Laura?' I asked. 'What actually happened on the day she left Blackwater Park and came to London?'

Marian sighed. 'Oh, Walter, it's not at all clear. Poor Laura's mind is so confused now that her memory of events is very unreliable. She can't even remember the date she left Blackwater. All she has been able to tell me is this. The Count met her at the station, and said that I was still in London and that he would take her to see me at once. She doesn't remember where the cab went, but it was clearly not to his house in St John's Wood. She was taken to a house in a narrow street, where people came and went, asking her questions she didn't understand. At this point the Count told her I was now very ill; she was so frightened by this news she nearly fainted. Someone then gave her a glass of water, which she said tasted odd — and after that she lost consciousness.'

'Poor, poor Laura,' I murmured.

'She woke up,' Marian continued, 'in the asylum, unable to leave, unable to make contact with the outside world. She was called by Anne Catherick's name and found she was wearing clothes with Anne Catherick's name on them. She was told Lady Glyde was dead and buried, and that she was Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick... Day in, day out, from 27th July to 15th October, she was made to feel that she was mad. It's hardly surprising her mind is so confused now.'

'And what happened at Limmeridge?' I asked.

Marian turned her face away. 'I can't bear to think about it,' she said. 'The worst part was taking Laura into Mr Fairlie's room. He looked straight into Laura's face and said, "My niece is buried in Limmeridge churchyard. I don't recognize this woman. Remove her from my house before I call on the law to protect me." Even the servants were doubtful about her identity, because she was so much changed and so confused by her experiences. Perhaps people would have been persuaded if we'd stayed longer, but I didn't dare risk it. At any minute the people from the asylum might come looking for us, so I decided to return to London at once and hide. Then, as we were passing the churchyard, Laura insisted on a last look at her mother's grave. And... well, that moment changed our three lives.'

'I think God was guiding Laura's footsteps,' I said.

How well I remember that day — that moment when Laura laid her poor head innocently and trustingly on my shoulder, and said, 'They have tried to make me forget everything, Walter, but I remember Marian, and I remember you.'

*  *  *

The plot against Laura was now clear. Anne Catherick had been taken into Count Fosco's house as Lady Glyde, and Lady Glyde had taken the dead woman's place in the asylum. It was also clear that the three of us could expect no mercy from Count Fosco and Sir Percival, who between them had gained £30,000 from the plot. They would do everything in their power to prevent their crime being discovered, and would hunt for their victim to separate her from her only friends — Marian and myself. This is why I had chosen a poor and crowded part of London to live in. It is easier to hide in a place where people are always coming and going.

Our life quickly took on a regular pattern — work, watching out for our enemies, and care of Laura, whom we surrounded with a gentle, protective love, helping her slowly but steadily to recover her balance of mind and her self-confidence.

Meanwhile, Marian and I began the battle. We studied the statements that Mr Kyrle had taken from witnesses — the doctor, and the servants and cook in Count Fosco's house. I obtained a copy of Lady Glyde's death certificate, and Marian wrote to Mrs Michelson, who replied, saying that she could not remember the exact date of Laura's departure from Blackwater Park. Nor could she remember when the letter announcing Laura's death, which was undated, had arrived from Madame Fosco.

I also arranged to visit Mr Kyrle, to ask for his help. After listening to my long explanation, the lawyer shook his head.

'My legal opinion, Mr Hartright, is that you won't win this case in a court of law. I accept, of course, that the identity of Lady Glyde as a living person is a proved fact to Miss Halcombe and yourself. But there is no evidence. If you could prove that the date on the death certificate was earlier than the date of Lady Glyde's journey to London, then you might have a case.'

As I left, he gave me a letter that had been delivered to him for Marian, and told me, in answer to my question, that Sir Percival Glyde had returned to London.

Outside in the street I soon noticed two men following me, and realized too late that the Count's spies must have been watching the lawyer's office, in the hope that Marian or I would go there. I went home by a very long route and managed to lose them, but it was a warning to me to be more careful.

Marian was very worried when I told her about the two men. Then I gave her the letter. She recognized the writing instantly.

'It's from Count Fosco.'


Dear and admirable woman, do not be afraid! Stay hidden, with your gentle companion, and nothing will happen to you. Challenge nothing, threaten nobody. Do not, I beg you, force me into action. If Mr Hartright returns to England, do not speak to him. If he crosses my path, he is a Lost man. F.


'Walter!' Marian said, her eyes flashing with anger. 'If ever the Count and Sir Percival are at your mercy and you must spare one of them, don't let it be the Count.'

'I'll keep this letter to remind me when the time comes,' I said. 'But tomorrow I will go to Blackwater, to try and find out the date of Laura's journey to London. It's the one weak point in their plot.'

'You mean that perhaps Laura did not leave for London until after the date on the death certificate?'

'Exactly. I think she left on 26th July. The Director of the asylum said she was taken there on the 27th. I doubt if they could have kept her drugged more than one night. We know from Mrs Michelson that Sir Percival left on the same day as Laura. I'll ask everyone in the village if they remember when he left.'

'And if that fails?'

'If that fails, Marian, I'll force a confession from Sir Percival. We have one weapon against him — his secret. Anne Catherick said that if his secret was known, it would ruin him. I intend to find out that secret. The woman in white, though dead in her grave, is still with us and is showing us the way!'


bribery n. persuading a person to act in one's favor by a gift of money or services 贿赂

unreliable adj. not liable 不可靠的

plot n. a conspiracy or secret plan esp. to achieve an unlawful end 阴谋

mercy n. kindness, pity, and willingness to forgive 仁慈

cross one's path meet sb by chance 与…偶然相遇

flash v. burst 闪烁

10.营救

我们刚一有机会交谈,玛丽安就把她和劳拉的遭遇从头到尾讲给我听。最令她难过的是回到利默里奇之后的经历。

“我太绝望了,沃尔特,”她说,“克尔先生的调查结束了,他说什么也没发现。费尔利先生一点儿忙也不帮——我听说他甚至都没离开他的房间去参加葬礼!不过他倒是把福斯科伯爵的信给了我,信里面有安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。伯爵说安妮·凯瑟里克已经找到了,被送回了原来的精神病院。但是,凯瑟里克因为痛恨珀西瓦尔爵士,想给他找麻烦,所以她现在自称不是安妮·凯瑟里克,而是格莱德夫人。伯爵提醒费尔利先生,假如她再逃出来,很可能要给格莱德夫人的家人添乱子。

“回来的头一个月,我身体虚弱,什么也干不了。后来身体恢复了,我决定亲自去调查。首先,我准备去伦敦的精神病院找可怜的安妮·凯瑟里克谈谈,弄清楚为什么她要自称是劳拉。我知道地址,是你几个月前给我的。

“噢,沃尔特,我相信你能猜到接下来发生的事情。精神病院的院长看上去是个正直的人,他告诉我,安妮·凯瑟里克是7月27日被送回来的。他对凯瑟里克身上的变化感到很困惑,但他推测是由于精神方面的疾病造成的。然后,他叫一名护士带我去见安妮·凯瑟里克,她正在花园散步。

“想象一下,当时我有多么震惊,沃尔特——我看到自己死去的妹妹在花园里朝我走来!我们跑向对方,紧紧地抱在一起,一句话也说不出来。护士不解地望着我们。”

“我很清楚你当时的心情,”我说,“我永远不会忘记在利默里奇教堂墓地……可是,你是怎么把劳拉救出精神病院的呢?”

“贿赂,沃尔特。我不想打官司,那样太冒险,也会耽误很长时间。所以,我对护士说,这里一定有严重的误会,如果她能帮助安妮·凯瑟里克逃走,就做了一件天大的好事。之后,我给了她400英镑。计划进行得很顺利,第二天刚过中午,我和劳拉就乘上了开往坎伯兰郡的火车。”

“那么,劳拉呢?”我问,“她离开布莱克沃特庄园到伦敦后,到底发生了什么?”

玛丽安叹了口气,“噢,沃尔特,现在还不清楚。可怜的劳拉思维很乱,她的记忆不可靠。她连离开布莱克沃特的日期都记不起来。她能告诉我的就是,伯爵在车站接她,告诉她我还在伦敦,他要带劳拉马上去见我。她不记得车往哪里走了,但是很明显不是去伯爵在圣约翰伍德的家。她被带进一条小巷里的一间房子,那里人来人往,问一些她听不懂的问题。这时,伯爵告诉她我病得很严重,她听了非常害怕,几乎昏了过去。接着有人给了她一杯水,她说水的味道很怪,之后她就失去了知觉。”

“可怜的劳拉。”我低声自语着。

“她醒来以后,”玛丽安接着说,“发现自己在精神病院里,既不能离开,也无法同外界接触。别人叫她安妮·凯瑟里克,她发现自己穿着有安妮·凯瑟里克名字的衣服。别人告诉她格莱德夫人已经死了,被安葬了,她就是安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克……一天又一天,从7月27日到10月15日,他们强迫她认为自己疯了。难怪现在她思维混乱。”

“在利默里奇发生了什么?”我问道。

玛丽安把头转向一侧。“我简直不忍心想在那儿发生的事情。”她回答,“最糟的就是我带劳拉走进费尔利先生的房间后,他紧盯着劳拉的脸说:‘我侄女已经埋在利默里奇教堂墓地了。我不认识这个女人。赶快带她出去,不然我要用法律来保护自己了。’仆人们也对劳拉的身份很怀疑,因为她变化太大了,她的经历也让她思绪异常混乱。也许我们逗留的时间长一些,大家会被说服,但是我不想冒这个险,因为精神病院的人随时都会来找我们,所以我决定马上回伦敦躲起来。当我们经过教堂的时候,劳拉坚持要最后再看一眼她母亲的坟墓。后来……嗯,那一刻改变了我们三个人的生活。”

“我想是上帝在引导着劳拉的脚步。”我说。

我清楚地记得那天——可怜的劳拉将头依偎在我的肩头,充满了纯洁与信任。她说:“他们想叫我忘掉一切,沃尔特,但我还记得玛丽安,我还记得。”

*  *  *

针对劳拉的阴谋现在已经清楚了。安妮·凯瑟里克被当作格莱德夫人带进了福斯科伯爵的家里,格莱德夫人在精神病院里取代了那个已经死了的女人的位置。还有一点也很明显,福斯科伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士是不会放过我们三个的。他们两人从这个阴谋中得到30,000英镑。他们会尽一切可能不让他们的罪行败露,也会极力追寻他们所陷害的人,并把她同她的朋友们——玛丽安和我——分开。这就是为什么我选择伦敦一处既贫穷又拥挤的地方住下来,因为在一个人来人往的地方比较容易躲藏。

我们的生活很快形成了一个较为固定的模式——工作,留意我们的敌人,照顾劳拉。我们细心地照顾她,保护她,帮助她慢慢地恢复正常的思维和自信心。

与此同时,玛丽安和我开始了紧张的调查。我们仔细研究克尔先生记录的证词——分别来自医生以及伯爵家的仆人和厨师。我弄到了一份格莱德夫人的死亡证明。玛丽安给米切尔森太太写信,米切尔森太太回信说记不清劳拉离开布莱克沃特庄园的确切日期了,也记不清福斯科夫人来信通知他们劳拉死讯的具体时间了,那封信没有注明日期。

我还安排与克尔先生见面,请求他的帮助。听我把前因后果一一讲完后,克尔先生摇了摇头。

“作为律师,哈特里特先生,我认为你不会赢得这场官司。当然我同意,你和哈尔库姆小姐可以证明格莱德夫人还活着,但是你没有证据。如果你能证明死亡证明上的时间比格莱德夫人去伦敦的时间,那你可能会赢这场官司。”

我要离开的时候,他交给我一封信,是要他转给玛丽安的。同时,他在回答我的提问时透露,珀西瓦尔爵士已经回到伦敦了。

在外面的街道上,我很快注意到有两个人在跟踪我。我这才意识到伯爵的人肯定一直在监视克尔先生的办公室,以防玛丽安和我会到那儿去。我绕远路回家,设法甩掉了跟踪我的人,但是这件事提醒我今后要更加小心。

我把两个人跟踪我的事告诉了玛丽安,她非常担心。我把那封信交给她,她马上就认出了写信人的笔迹。

“是福斯科伯爵写的。”


亲爱的、尊敬的女士,请不要害怕!继续同你温柔的伙伴藏好,你们就不会有事。不要试图做任何事情,不要给任何人带来威胁。我请求你们,不要强迫我采取行动。如果哈特里特先生回英国来,不要同他接触。假如他找我的麻烦,他就死定了。福斯科。


“沃尔特!”玛丽安眼里闪着愤怒的光,“如果伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士落到你的手里,而你又必须放过他们中的一个的话,一定不要放过伯爵。”

“我要留着这封信,让它到时候提醒我应该怎么做,”我说,“明天我要去一趟布莱克沃特,查一查劳拉去伦敦的日期。这是他们阴谋中的一个漏洞。”

“你是说劳拉可能是在死亡证明上的日期之后才去伦敦的?”

“没错。我想她是7月26日动身的。精神病院的院长说她是27日被送进去的。我怀疑他们是否能让劳拉昏迷超过一晚上的时间。米切尔森太太说,珀西瓦尔爵士是和劳拉同一天离开的。我要问村里的每一个人,是不是还记得珀西瓦尔爵士什么时候离开的。”

“如果这样不行呢?”

“如果不行的话,玛丽安,我就逼珀西瓦尔爵士认罪。我们用他的秘密对付他,安妮·凯瑟里克说如果他的秘密让人知道了,那他就完了。我想查出他的秘密来。那个白衣女人虽说已经死了,但是还同我们在一起,她会为我们引路的!”

11
The investigation

The story of my first enquiries in Hampshire is soon told. Not a single person in the village of Blackwater could remember exactly when Sir Percival Glyde had left. Even the gardener at the house could only say it was some time in the last ten days of July.

'So, on to the next plan,' I said to Marian back in London, 'which is to pursue the secret. I need to talk to Anne Catherick's mother, but first I must find out something about her from Mrs Clements, Anne's friend. But how do I find Mrs Clements?'

Marian had the answer to that. 'You remember the farm she and Anne stayed at near Limmeridge? We'll write to them — they might know Mrs Clements' address.'

We were lucky. The farmer's wife did know the address, and wrote back by return to tell us. It was in London, not far from our rooms, and the next morning I was knocking at the door.

Mrs Clements was anxious to know if I had brought her any news of Anne, and very sad to learn that I had not. However, she was willing to tell me everything she knew.

'After leaving Limmeridge, sir,' she said, 'Anne and I went to live in the northeast of England, and that's when Anne started to suffer from heart disease. She wasn't at all well, but she insisted on travelling to Hampshire, because she wanted to speak to Lady Glyde. So we went there and stayed in a village near Blackwater — not too close as Anne was so frightened of Sir Percival.

'Each time Anne went to the lake to try to speak to Lady Glyde, I followed her at a distance. But the long walks made her so exhausted that she became ill again, so finally I went to the lake in her place to meet Lady Glyde. She didn't come that day, but a very fat man came instead with a message from her. The message was that we should return to London immediately, as Sir Percival would certainly find us if we stayed longer. Lady Glyde was going to London herself very soon and if we sent her our address, she would contact us.'

'But she didn't, did she?' I said, thinking how cleverly Count Fosco had lied to this kind woman.

'No, sir. I found lodgings and sent the address to Lady Glyde, but after two weeks we'd still heard nothing. Then one day a lady called in a cab. She said she came from Lady Glyde, who was staying at a hotel and wanted to arrange an interview with Anne. I agreed to go with this lady to make the arrangement, leaving Anne alone in our lodgings. But it was a wicked plot, sir. On the way the lady stopped the cab, saying she just had to collect something from a shop and would I wait for a few minutes. She never came back, sir. I waited for some time, and then I hurried home — and found Anne gone. Just disappeared.'

I asked Mrs Clements to describe this 'lady', and it seemed clear from her description that it was Madame Fosco. So I now knew how the Count had got Anne Catherick to London and separated her from Mrs Clements.

'I never found out what happened to Anne,' Mrs Clements said sadly. 'I made enquiries. I even wrote to her mother, but she didn't know anything. I miss poor Anne so much. She was like a daughter to me, you see, sir.'

'And I'm sure you were a kind mother to her,' I said. 'A better mother than her own mother.'

'That wasn't difficult,' said Mrs Clements. 'Mrs Catherick is a hard woman. She seemed to hate the child, and was only too pleased when I offered to bring her up. Then one day she took Anne to Limmeridge to stay with a sister, and after that she kept Anne from me. I didn't see Anne again till she escaped from the asylum — with your help, sir. And then she was always talking about a secret her mother had which could ruin Sir Percival. But you know, sir, I don't think Anne really knew what this secret was. If she had known, I'm sure she would have told me.'

I had wondered about that myself, and now I tried to turn the conversation on to Mrs Catherick.

'Did you know Mrs Catherick before Anne was born?'

'Yes, for about four months. We were neighbours in Welmingham. Mr and Mrs Catherick had just got married, and Mr Catherick had a job as clerk at Welmingham church. Before that, Mrs Catherick had been a servant at a large house. She was a selfish, heartless woman, and treated her poor husband very badly. Before long, there was a lot of talk about her and a young gentleman, who was staying at a hotel nearby. And Mr Catherick told my husband that he'd found expensive presents, gold rings and suchlike, hidden in his wife's drawer.'

'And who was this gentleman?' I asked.

'You know him, sir. And so did my poor dear Anne.'

'Sir Percival Glyde?' My heart began to beat faster. Was I getting close to the secret?

'That's right. His father had recently died abroad, and Sir Percival had just arrived in the neighbourhood. People thought, you see, that maybe Mrs Catherick had known Sir Percival before, and had married Mr Catherick just to save her reputation, because of, well, you know... Anyway, one night Mr Catherick found his wife whispering with Sir Percival outside the vestry of the church. They had a fight, but Sir Percival beat him and Mr Catherick left the village, never to return again. And in spite of all the talk in the village, Mrs Catherick stayed. She said she was innocent and that no one would drive her away. But most people thought that the money she lived on came from Sir Percival.'

The secret was here somewhere. But where? That Sir Percival was Anne's father was hardly a secret since everyone already thought that. No, there was another mystery somewhere.

'And what did you think, Mrs Clements?'

'Well, sir, if you worked out time and place, it was obvious that Mr Catherick wasn't Anne's father. But Anne wasn't at all like Sir Percival; and nor was she like her mother.'

I wondered about the house where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Perhaps I would make some enquiries later.

'You've been very kind, Mrs Clements,' I said, 'answering all my questions. One last request. Will you tell me Mrs Catherick's address? I have to find out this secret, and only she can tell me.'

Mrs Clements gave me the address, but shook her head. 'Take care, sir. She's an awful woman. You don't know her as I do.'

*  *  *

Back at our rooms I announced my intention to Marian of going to Welmingham. She was very uneasy about the plan.

'Are you sure it's wise, Walter? Sir Percival is a violent man.'

'I'm more afraid for you and Laura,' I said, 'left alone in London, with the Count as your enemy.'

We arranged to write to each other every day; and if no letter came from her, I would take the first train back to London.

*  *  *

Three days later I was standing in Mrs Catherick's sitting room, face to face with a grey-haired woman, dressed in black silk. Her dark eyes looked straight at me with a hard, cold stare.

'You say you have come to speak to me about my daughter,' she said. 'Please say what you have to say.'

Her voice was as hard as the expression in her eyes. She pointed to a chair, and looked at me carefully as I sat down.

'You know,' I said, 'that your daughter is lost?'

'I know that perfectly well.'

'Don't you worry that she might not be just lost, but that she might have met with her death?'

'Yes. Have you come to tell me that she is dead?'

'I have.'

'Why?'

She asked that extraordinary question without the slightest change in her voice, face, or manner. I might have been talking about the death of a cat in the street.

'I thought Anne's mother might be interested in knowing if she was alive or dead.'

'Just so,' she said. 'But what is your interest in her, or in me? Have you no other reason for coming here?'

'Yes, I do,' I said. 'Your daughter's death has caused someone I love to be harmed — by a man called Sir Percival Glyde.'

She did not react at all at the mention of his name.

'I want to make him confess to his crime. You know certain things about him from the time when your husband was the church clerk. I want you to tell me about them.'

At last I saw the anger burning in her eyes.

'What do you know about those events?'

'Everything that Mrs Clements could tell me.'

'Mrs Clements is a foolish woman.' She bit back her anger, and her lips curled in an unpleasant little smile. 'Ah, I begin to understand. You want your revenge on Sir Percival Glyde, and you want my help. That's why you've come here. Well, you don't know me. I've spent years getting back my reputation in this village. Now everyone respects me. I won't help you.'

'If you're afraid of Sir Percival, that's quite understandable,' I said. 'He's a powerful man, and comes from a great family —'

To my amazement, she suddenly burst out laughing.

'From a great family! Yes, indeed! Especially from his mother's side,' she said with disgust.

Whatever did she mean by that, I wondered?

'The secret between you and Sir Percival was not guilty love,' I insisted. 'It was something else that brought you and him to those stolen meetings outside the vestry of the church.'

As I said the words 'vestry of the church', I saw a wave of terror pass across her face.

'Go!' she said. 'And never come back. Unless' — and she gave a slow, cruel smile — 'unless you bring news of his death.'

*  *  *

It was now late, and I made my way to the nearest hotel. There was much to think about. Why should mention of the church vestry cause terror? Why the disgust at Sir Percival's family, especially his mother? Was there something unusual about his parents' marriage? Perhaps the local marriage register was kept in the vestry of Welmingham church...

The next day I went to the church. I had been aware of being followed the previous evening, and now I caught sight of the same two men I had seen outside Mr Kyrle's office in London. It seemed that Sir Percival had expected me to visit Mrs Catherick, and was now expecting me to visit Welmingham church — proof, surely, that my investigation was going in the right direction.

I found the church clerk, who fetched his keys and took me to the vestry. It could only be entered from the outside of the church, and the clerk had great difficulty opening the lock, which was very old. Once inside, I asked to see the marriage register. It was kept in a cupboard which could easily be forced open.

'Is that a safe enough place to keep the register?' I said.

'Safe enough,' the clerk said. 'A copy is kept by a lawyer in the next village — Mr Wansborough's office in Knowlesbury.'

I worked backwards in the register from Sir Percival's year of birth and there, under September of the previous year, squashed into a small space at the bottom of the page, was the record of the marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster of Knowlesbury. Just the usual information. Nothing apparently peculiar about Sir Percival's mother. The secret seemed further away than ever.

But on to Knowlesbury, and Mr Wansborough's office — a five-mile walk, but possible to get there and back by the end of the day. It was worth checking the copy of the register, and perhaps the lawyer would know something that might be useful.


pursue v. continue to investigate 继续调查

lodgings n. rooms rented for lodging in 租用的房子

bring up raise 抚养

heartless adj. unfeeling, pitiless 无情的

vestry n. a room or building attached to a church for keeping vestments in 教堂的法衣室

react v. undergo a change or show behaviour due to some influence 反应

bite back restrain 克制

burst out suddenly begin 突然做……

disgust n. strong aversion 不屑

make one's way to go to 到……去

catch sight of see, find 看到

11.调查

下面是我在汉普郡初步调查的情况。布莱克沃特村没有一个人记得珀西瓦尔爵士离开的确切时间。园丁也仅仅记得大概是7月下旬。

“那么,开始下一步行动吧,”回到伦敦我对玛丽安说,“查出那个秘密来。我需要找到安妮·凯瑟里克的母亲,但我必须首先找到安妮的朋友克莱门茨太太,从她那里了解一些情况。可怎么才能找到克莱门茨太太?”

玛丽安想出了办法:“还记得克莱门茨太太和安妮在利默里奇附近住过的农场吗?我们给他们写信,也许他们知道克莱门茨太太的地址。”

我们很幸运,农场主的妻子真的知道地址,她回信告诉了我们。她就住在伦敦,离我们住的地方不远。第二天上午,我就找到了那个地方,敲响了房门。

克莱门茨太太急切地想知道我是否带来了安妮的消息,当我告诉她没有的时候,她非常难过。不过,她愿意把她知道的一切都告诉我。

“离开利默里奇以后,先生,”她对我说,“安妮和我去了英国东北部,这个时候安妮得了心脏病。她身体很不好,但她坚持到汉普郡去见格莱德夫人。所以我们就去了那儿,住在布莱克沃特附近的一个村子里——那地方离布莱克沃特不是很近,因为安妮非常害怕珀西瓦尔爵士。

“每一次安妮到湖边去见格莱德夫人,我都在远处跟着她。但是走那么远的路让她非常疲劳,结果她又病了。最后我代替她到湖边去见格莱德夫人。那天格莱德夫人没有来,来的是一个很胖的男人,他捎来了格莱德夫人的口信,让我们赶快回伦敦,因为如果在这里呆久了,珀西瓦尔爵士肯定会发现我们。格莱德夫人自己很快也会到伦敦去,如果我们把地址给她,她会跟我们联系。”

“但是她没跟你们联系,对吗?”我问,心想伯爵对这个善良的女人说的谎真是高明啊。

“没错,先生。我找到了住处,把地址寄给了格莱德夫人,可是两个星期过去了,我们没收到任何回音。后来,有一天一位夫人乘马车到这里来。她说她从格莱德夫人那儿来,格莱德夫人住在一家旅店,想安排同安妮见面。我答应同那位夫人去安排见面的事,把安妮一个人留在住处。可这是个恶毒的阴谋,先生。走到半路,那位夫人说要去商店取点儿东西,让我等几分钟。她去了就再没回来,先生。我等了好一阵子,然后赶忙回家——回来后却发现安妮不见了。就这么消失了。”

我让克莱门茨太太描述一下那位“夫人”的样子,根据她的描述,那人很显然是福斯科夫人。现在我明白伯爵是怎么把安妮·凯瑟里克弄到伦敦,又怎么把她和克莱门茨太太分开的了。

“我不知道安妮到底出了什么事,”克莱门茨太太伤心地说,“我调查过,甚至给她母亲写过信,但是她什么也不知道。我现在非常想念可怜的安妮。你知道,她就像我的女儿一样,先生。”

“我相信你是她的好母亲,”我说,“比她的亲生母亲还要亲。”

“那倒没什么难的,”克莱门茨太太说,“凯瑟里克太太是一个铁石心肠的女人。她好像仇视这个孩子,我提出抚养这孩子时,她非常高兴。后来有一天她把安妮带到利默里奇同她的妹妹住在一起。再后来,她就不让我见安妮了。安妮从精神病院逃出来之前,我就再没见到过她。她逃出来还是你帮的忙呢,先生。从那以后,她—直说她母亲知道一个秘密,那秘密会毁了珀西瓦尔爵士。但是,先生,我觉得安妮并不真的知道那个秘密。如果她真的知道,我相信她早就告诉我了。”

我自己也想过这个问题。但是,现在我努力把话题转向凯瑟里克太太。

“安妮出生前,你就认识凯瑟里克太太吗?”

“认识,大概有四个月的时间。我们在韦明翰是邻居。当时凯瑟里克夫妇刚刚结婚,凯瑟里克先生在韦明翰教堂当职员。结婚前,凯瑟里克太太在一个大户人家当仆人。她是一个自私、狠心的女人,对她可怜的丈夫非常不好。不久,关于她和住在附近旅店的一个年轻人有了很多风言风语。凯瑟里克先生对我丈夫说,他发现他妻子的抽屉里藏着许多贵重礼物,金戒指什么的。”

“那个年轻人是谁?”我问。

“你认识他,先生。我可怜的安妮也认识他。”

“珀西瓦尔爵士?”我的心跳开始加速。我是不是接近那个秘密了?

“就是他。他父亲那时在国外去世,珀西瓦尔爵士刚刚到这里来。大家都说很可能凯瑟里克太太早就认识珀西瓦尔爵士,她和凯瑟里克先生结婚就是想挽救自己的名声,因为,嗯,你知道……不管怎样,一天晚上,凯瑟里克先生看到他妻子和珀西瓦尔爵士在教堂的法衣室外窃窃私语。他们打了起来。珀西瓦尔爵士打了他。之后,凯瑟里克先生就离开了那个村子,再也没回来。尽管村子里流言满天飞,凯瑟里克太太还是一直住在那里。”她说自己是清白的,谁也赶不走她。不过大多数人都认为她是靠珀西瓦尔爵士的钱维持生活的。”

秘密就在这里。可是到底是什么呢?珀西瓦尔爵士是安妮的父亲,这已经不是什么秘密了,大家早就这么想了。不对,这里一定还有隐情。

“那你怎么看,克莱门茨太太?”

“嗯,如果从时间和地点来看,很明显凯瑟里克先生不是安妮的父亲。但是,安妮一点儿也不像珀西瓦尔爵士,也不像她母亲。”

我想到凯瑟里克太太当仆人的那家,也许什么时候我可以到那儿调查一下。

“真是太谢谢了,克莱门茨太太,”我说,“你回答了我那么多问题。最后我还有个请求,你能告诉我凯瑟里克太太的地址吗?我必须查清楚这个秘密,只有她可以告诉我。”

克莱门茨太太把地址给了我,但是摇了摇头,“你要小心,先生。她是一个很可怕的女人,你没有我了解她。”

*  *  *

回到住处,我把要去韦明翰的想法告诉了玛丽安,她非常担优。

“你觉得这样好吗,沃尔特?珀西瓦尔爵士是个心狠手辣的人。”

“我更担心的是你和劳拉,”我说,“就你们两个留在伦敦,还要对付伯爵。”

我们商量好每天都互相写信,如果没有收到玛丽安的来信,我就搭乘最早的一班火车回伦敦来。

*  *  *

三天后,我已经站在凯瑟里克太太的客厅里了。我面前是一个头发灰白的女人,穿着黑色绸衣。她的一双黑眼睛冷冷地盯着我。

“你说你来跟我谈我女儿的事,”她开口说,“有什么话就请讲吧。”

她的声音像她的眼神一样冷。她指了指一把椅子,我坐下以后,她开始仔细地打量我。

“你知道,”我说,“你女儿失踪了吗?”

“我非常清楚。”

“难道你不担心她可能不光是失踪了,有可能她已经死了?”

“我想过。那你是来告诉我,她已经死了?”

“是的。”

“为什么?”

提出这样荒谬的问题,她的声音、表情和举止居然没有任何变化,就好像我刚才谈的是街上死了一只猫。

“我原以为安妮的母亲会关心她的生死。”

“就为了这个啊,”她说,“但是你为什么对她或我感兴趣呢?你到这里来没有其他原因?”

“有,”我回答,“你女儿的死使我所爱的人受到了伤害——是一个叫珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士的人干的。”

我提到了珀西瓦尔的名字,她一点儿反应都没有。

“我要让他承认他所犯下的罪行,你丈夫在教堂当职员的时候,你就知道了他的一些事,我希望你把所知道的告诉我。”

我终于在她眼里看到了愤怒的目光。

“你是怎么知道这些事的?”

“克莱门茨太太把她知道的都告诉我了。”

“克莱门茨太太是个愚蠢的女人。”她压下怒火,双唇勾起一丝恶意的微笑。“呵,我开始懂了。要向珀西瓦尔爵士报仇,需要帮忙。这就是你来这里的原因。你不了解我。我在这个村子住了这么多年,才挽回我的名誉。现在大家都很尊敬我,我不会帮你的。”

“如果你害怕珀西瓦尔爵士,那是可以理解的,”我说,“他是个有权势的人,出身名门——”

令我吃惊的是,她突然大笑起来。

“出身名门!是,没错!尤其是他母亲那一边。”她不屑地说。

她这话是什么意思?我不明白。

“你和他之间的秘密不是什么婚外情,”我接着说,“是别的事情使得你们在教堂的法衣室外秘密见面。”

在提到“教堂的法衣室”时,我注意到她的脸上掠过一阵恐惧。

“滚出去!”她大声喊着,“再也不要回来。除非”——她脸上慢慢露出残忍的笑意——“除非你来告诉我他死了。”

*  *  *

天色已晚,我朝最近的旅店走去。有许多问题需要思考。为什么提到教堂的法衣室她就害怕了?为什么她瞧不起珀西瓦尔爵士的家庭,特别是他的母亲?难道他父母的婚姻有什么特别的地方?也许当地的婚姻登记记录就存放在韦明翰教堂的法衣室……

第二天我去了教堂。我已经注意到前一天晚上有人跟踪我,这会儿我又看到在伦敦克尔先生办公室外见到的那两个人在跟着我。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士已经料到我要来见凯瑟里克太太,现在又料到我来韦明翰教堂——这些恰好证明我的调查方向是正确的。

我找到了教堂职员,他找来钥匙,带我来到教堂的法衣室。法衣室只能从教堂外面进去,职员费了好大劲儿才打开那把旧锁。进去以后,我说要看看婚姻登记记录。那些记录放在一个柜子里,柜子的门很容易被撬开。

“婚姻登记记录放在这里安全吗?”我问。

“很安全,”职员回答,“另一个副本存放在邻村的律师那里,就是万斯伯勒先生的办公室,在诺雷斯伯里。”

我从珀西瓦尔爵士出生那年的记录开始往前面查,在前一年的9月,有一页在靠下的角落里记着费利克斯·格莱德爵士和诺雷斯伯里的塞西莉亚结婚。只是非常一般的记录,看不出珀西瓦尔爵士的母亲有什么特殊的地方。秘密好像比以前离我更远了。

接下来,我奔赴诺雷斯伯里万斯伯勒先生的办公室——大约有5英里的路程,但是在天黑前赶回来还是可能的。很有必要查看一下记录的副本,也许律师会知道一些有用的信息。

12
The secret

Sir Percival's spies attacked me on the road to Knowlesbury. One of them came up beside me, and bumped into me with his shoulder. I pushed him away, hard, and he immediately shouted for help. The other man ran up and the two of them held me between them. The first man accused me of attacking him, and they said they would take me to the police station in the town.

What could I do? I couldn't fight both of them and hope to get away, so I had to go with them.

At the police station the first man accused me of a violent attack, and the second man said he was a witness. I was locked up until the next magistrate's court, which was three days away. I could be released on bail, I was told, but how could I, a total stranger in the town, find a responsible person willing to pay money for my temporary freedom? The whole plan was now clear — to get me out of the way for three days, while Sir Percival did whatever was necessary to prevent his secret being discovered.

At first I was too angry to think clearly. Then I remembered Mr Dawson, the doctor. I had been to his house on my previous visit to Blackwater, so I knew his address. I wrote him a letter, explaining what had happened and begging for his help, and then asked for a messenger to deliver it. Two hours later the good doctor appeared, paid the required money and I was set free.

There was no time to lose. The news of my being free would doubtless reach Sir Percival within hours. I hurried to the lawyer's office, where I asked if I could see the copy of the Welmingham marriage register. Mr Wansborough was a pleasant man and agreed to show me the copy. In fact, he was quite amused. No one had asked to see it since his father (now dead) had locked it away in the office more than twenty years before.

As I opened the register, my hands trembled. I turned the pages to the year and month. I found the names I remembered just before, and just after, the marriage of Sir Percival's parents. And between these entries, at the bottom of the page...?

Nothing! The marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster was not there! I looked again, to be sure. No, nothing. Not a doubt about it. Sir Percival must have seen the space in the Welmingham register and written in the marriage himself.

I had never once suspected this. He was not Sir Percival Glyde at all! His parents had not been married, so he had no right to the inheritance of Blackwater Park, no right to the rank of Baronet, no right even to the name of Glyde! This was his secret — and it was now mine to use against him!

The copy of the register would be safe enough in the lawyer's office, but I decided to go back to Welmingham and make a copy of the false record from the church register. It was dark now and I ran all the way to the church clerk's house. I knocked on his door, but when he appeared, he looked suspicious and confused.

'Where are the keys?' he asked. 'Have you taken them?'

'What keys do you mean?' I said. 'I've just this minute arrived from Knowlesbury.'

'The keys of the vestry,' he said. 'The keys are gone! Someone's broken in and taken the keys.'

'Get a light,' I said, 'and let's go to the vestry. Quick!'

We ran to the church. On the path we passed a man who looked at us with frightened eyes. He seemed to be a servant of some kind. We did not stop to question him, but ran on.

As we came in sight of the vestry, I saw a high window brilliantly lit from within. There was a strange smell on the night air, a sound of cracking wood, and the light grew brighter and brighter. I ran to the door and put my hand on it. The vestry was on fire!

I heard the key working violently in the lock — I heard a man's voice behind the door, raised in terror, screaming for help.

'Oh, my God!' said the servant, who had followed us, 'it's Sir Percival!'

'God help him!' said the clerk. 'He's damaged the lock.'

*  *  *

At that moment I forget the man's crimes and see only the horror of his situation. Several people are now running towards the church and I call to them to help me break down the door. We look desperately for something to use, and at last someone finds a long heavy piece of wood.

By now the flames are shooting up out of the window, and the screams have stopped. We get the wood into position and run at the door with it. Again, and again! At last the door crashes down, but a wave of heat hits our faces and drives us back — and in the room we see nothing but a sheet of living fire.

*  *  *

The church itself was saved as the fire engine arrived soon afterwards and managed to put out the fire before it spread. They carried out the body of Sir Percival Glyde and laid it on the wet ground. I looked down on his dead face and this was how, for the first and last time, I saw him.

He must have heard that I was free and on my way back to Welmingham, so he hurried to the church, stealing the keys and locking himself in to prevent anyone coming in and finding him. All he could do was tear the page out of the register and destroy it. If the false record no longer existed, I could produce no evidence to threaten him with. He must have dropped his lamp by accident, which started the fire. Then in his urgency to get out, the lock had become damaged and the key unmoveable.

I could not leave the town. There would be a legal enquiry into the accident the next day, which I had to attend, and in any case I had to report back to the police station in Knowlesbury. I returned to the hotel and wrote to Marian, telling her everything that had happened and warning her to keep the news from Laura for the moment. With Sir Percival's death, my hopes of establishing Laura's identity had also died, and I could see no way forward at present.

The next day an envelope with my name on was delivered to the hotel. The letter inside was neither dated nor signed, but before I had read the first sentence, I knew who had written it — Mrs Catherick.


Sir — I thought you were my enemy. Now that he is dead, because of you, I consider you my friend. To thank you for what you have done, I will now tell you the things you wanted to know about my private life.

Twenty-three years ago I was a beautiful young woman living in Welmingham, married to a fool of a husband. I also knew a gentleman — I shall not call him by his name. Why should I? It was not his own. I was born with expensive tastes. This man gave me expensive presents. Naturally he wanted something in return — all men do. And what did he want? Just a little thing. The key to the church vestry, when my husband's back was turned. I liked my presents, so I got him the key. I watched him in the vestry without his knowing, and saw what he was doing. I did not know then how serious a crime it was. I said I would not tell anyone about the marriage he had added to the register if he told me about his private life. He agreed — why, you will see in a moment.

He said that he only found out that his parents were not married after his mother's death. His father confessed to it and promised to do what he could for his son. But he died having done nothing. The son came to England and took possession of the property. There was no one to say he could not. In fact, the right person to claim the property was a distant relation away at sea. However, to borrow money on the property, he needed a certificate of his parents' marriage. This was a problem — a problem which brought him to Welmingham.

As his parents had mostly lived abroad and had had no social life in England, who was to say (the priest being dead) that a private marriage had not taken place at Welmingham church? His plan was to tear out a page from the marriage register in the year before his birth and destroy it. Then he would tell his lawyers in London to get the necessary certificate, innocently referring them to the date on the page that was gone. At least no one could say that his parents were not married.

However, when he saw there was a small space at the bottom of the page in the right year, he changed his plan and took the opportunity to write in the marriage himself. It took him some time, though, to practise the handwriting and to mix the right colour of ink, so that it looked the same.

After my husband caught me talking secretly to him and after their fight together, I asked my fine gentleman to clear my name and to say there had been nothing between us. But he refused. He wanted everyone to believe something false, so that they would never suspect the truth. He then told me that the punishment for his crime, and anyone who helped him, was life in prison. He frightened me! If I spoke out, I was just as lost as he was. He then agreed to make me a yearly payment if I said nothing and stayed in Welmingham, where he could always find me and where there was no danger of my making friends and talking. This was hard, but I accepted.

Many years later, when my daughter was with me at home, I received a letter from him which made me very angry. I lost control of myself and said, in her presence, that 'I could destroy him if I let out his secret'. Then one day he came to our house and called her a fool. Immediately she shouted, 'Ask for my pardon, now, or I'll let out your secret and destroy your life. 'My own words! He went white. Then he swore at us. It ended, as you know, by his shutting her up in an asylum. I tried to tell him she knew nothing. But he did not believe me. My daughter knew that she had frightened him and that he was responsible for shutting her up because he believed she knew his secret. That's why she hated him. But she never to her dying day knew what his secret actually was.

I will end by saying that you insult me if you think my husband was not my daughter's father. Please do not ask further questions about that. To protect myself, I mention no names in this letter, nor do I sign it.


magistrate n. an official conducting a court for minor cases 法官

bail n. money left with a court of law to prove that a prisoner will return when their trial starts 保释金

entry n. an item 条目

brilliantly adv. very brightly 非常亮

produce v. bring forward for consideration or inspection 拿出

12.秘密

在去往诺雷斯伯里的路上,珀西瓦尔爵士的人向我发起了攻击。其中一个走到我旁边,用肩膀撞我。我用力把他推开,他马上大喊起来。另一个人跑过来,他们两个把我夹在了中间。第一个人指责我打他,他们说要把我带到镇上的警察局去。

我能怎么办呢?我没办法打倒他们两个再逃走,现在只得跟他们走了。

到了警察局,第一个人说我打他,另一个人说他是证人。我被关了起来,等着三天后法官开庭审理。他们告诉我可以保释,可是我在这里一个人也不认识,怎么可能找到一个愿意负责的人出钱让我获得暂时的自由呢?他们的整个计划很清楚——让我消失三天,珀西瓦尔爵士就利用这段时间尽一切可能保证他的秘密不被发现。

刚开始,我非常气愤,头脑中一片混乱。后来我想起了道森先生,那位医生。上一次我去布莱克沃特的时候到过他家,所以我知道他的地址。我给他写了封信,告诉他出了什么事,请求他来帮我,然后找了一个送信的帮我把信送走。两个小时后,好心的医生来了,为我交了保释金,我自由了。

必须抓紧时间,因为我被释放的消息肯定几个小时之内就会传到珀西瓦尔爵士那里。我赶到律师的办公室,请求看一下韦明翰的结婚登记记录。万斯伯勒先生是个和气的人,他同意让我看副本。其实,应该说他很高兴,因为自从他父亲(现在已经去世了)20多年前把文件锁在办公室后,从未有人要求查看过。

我翻开记录副本的时候双手在颤抖。我找到了珀西瓦尔爵士父母结婚的年份和月份,以及在他们之前和之后结婚的男女方姓名记录。但是,在这些条目之间,在那一页的底下……?

什么也没有!费利克斯·格莱德爵士和塞西莉亚·埃尔斯特的婚姻根本就没有记录!为了保险起见,我又看了一遍。没有,什么也没有,毫无疑问。珀西瓦尔爵士可能在韦明翰的记录中看到了那个空白,然后自己填上了那条记录。

我从未怀疑到这一点。他根本就不是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士,他的父母没有结婚,他根本没有权利继承布莱克沃特庄园和爵位,甚至根本无权姓格莱德!这就是他的秘密——现在我要利用这个秘密来对付他!

婚姻登记的副本放在律师的办公室很安全,我决定返回韦明翰,复制一份教堂的假记录。天已经黑了,我一路跑到教堂职员的住处。我敲了门,职员出来的时候,脸上布满了疑虑。

“钥匙在哪儿?”他问我,“你把钥匙拿走了吗?”

“什么钥匙?”我说,“我刚从诺雷斯伯里过来。”

“法衣室的钥匙,”他说,“钥匙不见了!有人进来偷走了钥匙。”

“拿上灯,”我说,“我们去法衣室,快!”

我们向教堂跑去。路上碰见一个人,似乎是个仆人,他惊慌地看了看我们。我们没有停下来问他任何问题,而是继续向前跑。

当我们看到法衣室的时候,我发现从一个高处的窗户里发出很亮的光,夜晚的空气中有一股奇怪的味道,可以听到木头劈啪作响的声音,那光变得越来越亮。我跑到法衣室的门口,用手摸了摸门。法衣室起火了!

我听到钥匙在锁里使劲转动的声音——我听到门后有人害怕地高声喊救命。

“噢,上帝!”跟着我们跑过来的仆人说,“是珀西瓦尔爵士!”

“上帝啊,救救他!”职员说,“他把锁弄坏了。”

alt

*  *  *

这个时候,我忘记了这个人的罪恶,只想到他现在的危急处境。有几个人正朝教堂跑过来,我叫他们帮我把门弄开。我们到处找能弄开门的东西,最后有人找来一根很粗的长木头。

这时,火焰已经窜出了窗户,呼叫声已听不见了。我们抬着长木头,一次又一次朝门撞过去。最后门被撞倒了,热浪从屋里冲出来,使我们不得不往后退去——屋里除了一团火什么也看不见。

*  *  *

救火车很快赶到,没等火势蔓延就把火扑灭了,教堂本身没有受到破坏。人们把珀西瓦尔爵士的尸体抬了出来,放在潮湿的地上。我看了看他的脸,这是我第一次也是最后一次看到他。

他一定是听说我被放出来,而且正赶回韦明翰,所以急忙赶到教堂,偷了钥匙,把自己锁在屋子里,不让任何人进去发现他。他唯一能做的就是把那一页从登记簿上撕下来销毁。如果假记录没有了,我就拿不出证据来威胁他。他可能不小心把灯掉到地上,引起了大火。然后,他急着要出来,匆忙中弄坏了锁,钥匙转不动了。

我现在还不能离开这里。转天会有一个事故的法律调查,我必须参加。而且不管怎样,我还得向诺雷斯伯里的警察局报到。我回到旅店,写信给玛丽安,告诉她这里发生的事情,提醒她先不要把这个消息告诉劳拉。珀西瓦尔爵士死了,我证明劳拉身份的希望也不复存在,现在我不知下一步该怎么办。

第二天,一个写着我名字的信封被送到了旅店。里面的信既没有日期,也没有署名。但是还没看完第一句,我就知道是谁写的信了——凯瑟里克太太。

先生——我原以为你是我的敌人。现在因为你,他已经死了,我认为你是我的朋友。为感谢你的所作所为,我现在把你想知道的我的私事告诉你。

23年前,我是一个年轻漂亮的姑娘,住在韦明翰,嫁给了一位傻乎乎的丈夫。我还结识了一位绅士——我不会称呼他的名字。为什么要那样叫他?那不是他的名字。我生来就喜欢贵重的东西,这个人送给我许多贵重礼物,当然他是需要回报的——男人都是这样。这个男人要的是什么?很简单的一样东西。教堂法衣室的钥匙,当然要趁我丈夫不在的时候。我喜欢那些礼物,所以给他弄到了钥匙。我盯着他,看他在法衣室干什么,他并没发觉。当时我不知道那是多么严重的罪行。我跟他说,要是他告诉我他的私事,我不会告诉任何人他擅自增加结婚记录的事。他答应了——至于为什么,你往下看就明白了。

他说在他母亲死后,他才知道他的父母并没有结婚。他父亲承认了这件事,答应尽力为他儿子做些什么。可是他什么都没来得及做,就死去了。他的儿子来到英国继承了遗产。没人说他不能继承,实际上,真正应该继承遗产的是一个正在出海的远亲。然而,要想用那笔财产去借钱,他需要一份父母的结婚证明。这是个问题,为解决这个问题,他来到了韦明翰。

因为他父母大部分时间生活在国外,在英国没什么交际,所以谁会说(牧师已经死了)韦明翰教堂没举行过一场私下的婚礼呢?他的计划是把他出生前那一年的婚姻登记页撕下来销毁。然后,他就会告诉伦敦的律师们去取必要的证明文件,并假装不知情地把那个已经不存在的登记页上的日期告诉他们。至少谁也不会说他父母没结婚。

但是,他发现那年的登记页上靠下面有一点空白,于是改变了主意,趁机把他父母的婚姻写了进去。当然,他也颇费了些时间去模仿登记用的笔迹,还有配制合适的墨水颜色,让这条记录看起来跟其他的没有差别。

我丈夫看到我和他密谈,他们两个打了一架以后,我叫他帮我洗清名声,告诉别人我们之间什么也没发生,但是他拒绝了。他希望大家都相信并没有发生的事情,这样一来,人们就不会去想真相如何了。他还跟我说如果他的罪行败露,他以及帮过他的人都将被终生监禁。他让我害怕极了!如果我说出他的秘密,那我和他都完了。他答应每年支付我一笔钱,条件是我保持沉默,继续住在韦明翰,让他随时可以找到我,也免得我与人交朋友,然后乱讲话。虽说条件很苛刻,我还是答应了。

很多年以后,那时我女儿同我在一起,我收到他的一封信把我惹恼了。我无法控制自己,当着女儿的面说:“我把他的秘密说出去就能毁了他。”后来有一天,他来我家,管我女儿叫傻瓜,她一下子喊了起来:“赶快请求我原谅你,不然我就把你的秘密说出去,毁了你。”完全是我说过的话!他的脸一下子变白了。他向我们破口大骂。最后,你知道,他把她关进了精神病院。我试图告诉他,她什么也不知道。可是他不相信我。我女儿明白她使他害怕了,是他把她关进了精神病院,因为他认为她知道了他的秘密。这就是为什么她那么恨他。但是,她其实到死也不知道那秘密到底是什么。

最后我要说的是,如果你认为我丈夫不是我女儿的父亲,你就是污辱我。请不要多问了。为了保护我自己,信中没有提到任何名字,我也不会署名。

13
The threat

Mrs Catherick's extraordinary and shameless letter filled me with disgust. My interest in Sir Percival Glyde's crime was now at an end, but I decided to keep the letter in case it might help me find out who Anne's father really was.

Later in the morning I went to the legal enquiry into Sir Percival's death. I was only asked to say what had happened. I was not asked how I thought the keys had been taken, how the fire had been caused, or why Sir Percival had gone into the vestry. As no one could explain any of these things, the verdict at the end of the enquiry was 'death by accident'.

Afterwards, a gentleman who was also at the enquiry walked back to the hotel with me. He had heard from Sir Percival's lawyer that a distant relation abroad would now inherit Blackwater Park. This was obviously the person who should have inherited it twenty-three years before. If I made Sir Percival's crime public, it would be to no one's advantage now. If I kept the secret, the true character of the man who had cheated Laura into marrying him would remain hidden. And for her sake, I wished to keep it hidden.

I still could not leave Hampshire, as I had to report to the police station in Knowlesbury the next day. I spent another night at the hotel and in the morning went to the post office to collect the letter from Marian. As promised, we had written to each other every day, and Marian's letters had been full of cheerful news. This morning's letter was short, and terrified me.


Come back as soon as you can. We have had to move. Come to Gower's Walk, Fulham (number five). I will look out for you. Don't be alarmed about us, we are both safe and well. But come back. — Marian


What had happened? What dreadful thing had Count Fosco done while I was away? In spite of my anxiety, I had to wait. I paid my bill at the hotel and took a cab to Knowlesbury.

At the police station, as I expected, no one appeared to continue the action against me and I was allowed to go. Half an hour later I was on the train back to London.

I got to Gower's Walk in Fulham at about nine o'clock. Both Laura and Marian came to the door to let me in. Laura was much brighter and happier, full of plans for the future and for her drawing and painting. Marian's face was tired and anxious. I could see that she had spared Laura the knowledge of the terrible death in Welmingham and the true reason for moving to new lodgings. When Laura had left us and we could speak freely, I tried to give some expression to my feelings and told Marian how much I admired her for the courage and love she had shown.

She was too generous to listen to me, and turned the conversation to my worries.

'I'm so sorry for my letter — it must have alarmed you.'

'Yes, it did,' I admitted. 'Was I right in thinking that you moved because of a threat by Count Fosco?'

'Perfectly right,' she said. 'I saw him yesterday, and worse than that, Walter — I spoke to him.'

'Spoke to him? Did he come to the house?'

'He did. Yesterday, when I was passing the window, I saw him in the street. Then there was a knock on the door. I rushed out and there he was, dressed in black, with his smooth face and his deadly smile. I closed the door behind me so that Laura would not see or hear him.'

'What did he say?' I asked anxiously.

'He greeted me, then repeated the warning in his letter to me. He said he had not been able to prevent Sir Percival's violence towards you, and he had found out our address in order to protect his own interests. You were followed, Walter, on your return home after your first journey to Hampshire. He used this information only when he heard of Sir Percival's death, because he believed you would act against him next.'

'And he was right,' I said. 'What did he say about me?'

'He was very cool, very polite, and very threatening,' said Marian. 'He said, "Warn Mr Hartright! He has an intelligent and powerful man to deal with. Let him be content with what he has got. Say to him, if he attacks me, I will use all my power to destroy him. There is nothing I will not do. Dear lady, good morning." Then he just looked at me with his cold grey eyes, and walked away.

'I ran back inside, and told Laura we had to move. We needed a quieter neighbourhood with better air for the sake of her health. I said you'd wanted us to do that, and why didn't we do it now to surprise you when you got back. She liked that idea, and was quite happy to move. I found these lodgings through an old school friend. I did the right thing, didn't I, Walter?'

I answered her warmly and gratefully, as I really felt.

But the anxious look remained on her face, and I saw in her eyes her continuing fear of the Count's cleverness and energy.

'What do you think of his message, Walter? What do you plan to do next?'

'I decided weeks ago that Laura will be received in her uncle's house again,' I answered. 'And my decision remains the same. Count Fosco will answer for his crime to ME.'

Marian's eyes lit up. She said nothing, but I could see how strongly she supported this plan.

'I know the risks are great,' I said, 'but it must be done. I'm not foolish enough to try this before I'm well prepared. I can wait. Let him think his message has produced its effect. He will start to feel safe. Also, my position towards you and Laura ought to be a stronger one than it is now.'

'How can it be stronger?' she asked, surprised.

'Marian, I would like you to say to Laura, gently, that her husband is dead.'

'Oh, Walter, so soon? You have a reason for this, don't you?'

'Yes. I cannot speak to Laura yet. But one day, not too distant, I want to tell her that I love her.'

Marian looked at me for a time, then gave a sad, gentle smile. 'Yes, I understand. I think I owe it to her and to you, Walter, to tell her of her husband's death.'

The next day Laura knew that death had released her from her marriage, and her husband's name was never mentioned among us again.

*  *  *

Our life returned to its usual pattern, but I did not forget the Count. I discovered that he had rented his house in St John's Wood for another six months, so I was fairly sure he would still be in London, within my reach, when the time came to act.

We finally solved the puzzle of who Anne Catherick's father was. When I went again to see Mrs Clements and to tell her about Anne's death, she remembered where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Her employer had been a Mr Donthorne.

We wrote to Mr Donthorne, who replied with some very interesting information. Philip Fairlie, Laura's father, had been a great friend of his when they were young, and a frequent house guest. He was a handsome man and fond of female company. Mr Donthorne was fairly certain that Philip Fairlie had been staying at his house when Mrs Catherick was employed as a servant, in the year before Anne was born.

When Marian and I checked the dates; when we considered that Anne and Laura looked so alike; and when we took into account the fact that Laura looked very much like her father, we were in no doubt that here was the solution. Philip Fairlie was Anne's father, and so Anne was Laura's half-sister.

Now, at last, the woman in white, that strange sad shadow walking in the loneliness of the night, could rest in peace.

*  *  *

Four months passed. Laura grew stronger in body and in mind. She was almost her old self, and when we talked, it was as we used to talk at Limmeridge. If I touched her by accident, I felt my heart beating fast, and I saw the answering colour in her face.

In April, we went for a holiday at the seaside. While we were there I told Marian that when we returned to London, I was determined to force a confession from Count Fosco — to make him tell me the real date of Laura's journey to London.

'But if I am to challenge the Count, for Laura's safety, I think I should challenge him as her husband. Do you agree, Marian?'

'With every word,' she said. 'I parted you both once. Wait here, my brother, my best and dearest friend! Till Laura comes, and tells you what I have done now!'

She kissed my forehead and left the room. I waited by the window, staring out at the beach, seeing nothing, hardly able to breathe. The door opened, and Laura came in alone. When we parted at Limmeridge, she had come into the room slowly, in sorrow and hesitation. Now she ran to me, with the light of happiness shining in her face. She put her arms around me, and her sweet lips came to meet mine.

'My darling!' she whispered, 'May we say we love each other now? Oh, I am so happy at last!'

Ten days later we were even happier. We were married.


verdict n. a decision; a judgment 结论

spare somebody the knowledge of keeping somebody from knowing 不让某人知道……

deadly adj. horrible 可怕的

answer for be responsible 受到惩罚

fairly adv. to a noticeable degree 相当地

13.威胁

凯瑟里克太太奇怪而又不知羞耻的来信使我对她充满了鄙夷。现在,我对珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行已经没有兴趣了,但我还是决定留着这封信,也许它会帮我找出安妮的父亲究竟是谁。

上午晚些时候,我去参加珀西瓦尔爵士死亡的法律调查。他们只让我说说发生了什么,没有问我如何看待钥匙为什么会被拿走,火灾是怎么发生的,或者为什么珀西瓦尔爵士会进到法衣室去。没有人能够解释这些问题,所以调查的最终结论是“意外死亡”。

之后,一位也参加了调查的男子和我一起走回旅店。他从珀西瓦尔爵士的律师那里得知,一个国外的远亲现在要来继承布莱克沃特庄园。很明显,这就是23年前应该继承庄园的那个人。假如我把珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行公之于众,现在对谁都没有好处。假如我不把秘密说出去,这个欺骗劳拉与之结婚的人的真正人品就不会有人知道。但为了劳拉,我愿意保守这个秘密。

我还不能离开汉普郡,因为转天还要去诺雷斯伯里警察局。我在旅店又住了一晚。第二天一早,我去邮局取玛丽安的来信。我们按约定每天通信。玛丽安的来信一直都是好消息。今天早上的来信很短,但却令我害怕。


请尽快回来。我们不得不搬了家。到富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街(5号)来找我们。我也会留意等你。不必为我们担心,我们很安全。一定快回来。玛丽安


出了什么事?我不在的时候,福斯科伯爵又做了什么坏事?尽管非常担心,我还是得等。我付清了旅店的费用,叫了辆马车直奔诺雷斯伯里。

在警察局,不出我所料,没人来继续同我纠缠,我可以走了。半个小时后,我登上了返回伦敦的火车。

大约9点钟,我赶到了富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街。劳拉和玛丽安都到门口迎接我。劳拉的脸色比以前好多了,人也高兴多了,对将来和她的绘画有很多想法。玛丽安的脸上带着倦容和忧虑。看得出她没有把珀西瓦尔死在韦明翰的可怕消息和搬到新住处的真实原因告诉劳拉。劳拉走开以后,我们可以随便谈话了。我想告诉她我非常敬佩她的勇气和她对劳拉表现出的爱。

这位慷慨的姑娘没等我说完就把话题转到我的担忧上来了。

alt

“给你写那样的信,真是对不起——你一定很为我们担心吧。”

“是的,我的确很担心,”我说,“我猜你们搬家是由于福斯科伯爵的威胁,对吗?”

“一点儿不错,”她回答,“我昨天看见他了,更糟糕的是,沃尔特——我跟他说话了。”

“跟他说话了?他去你们的住处了?”

“是的。昨天,我从窗旁走过的时候,看见他在街上。过了一会儿,有人敲门。我马上跑过去开门,就是他,穿一身黑色衣服,光滑的脸上带着吓人的微笑。我关上了身后的门,这样劳拉就看不见他,也听不见他说话了。”

“他都说了什么?”我急切地问。

“他跟我打了招呼,然后再一次重复了他在信中对我的警告。他说他没能阻止珀西瓦尔爵士针对你的恶劣行为,他找到我们的住处是要保护他自己的利益。你第一次去汉普郡回来的时候就被跟踪了,沃尔特。他在听到珀西瓦尔爵士的死讯后才决定登门,因为他认为你下一个对付的目标就是他。”

“让他说对了,”我说,“他说我什么了?”

“他非常冷静而有礼,同时又非常具有威胁性,”玛丽安接着说,“他说,‘请警告哈特里特先生!他要对付的是一个有智慧、有权势的人。叫他对已经得到的东西知足吧。告诉他,如果他跟我对着干,我将不遗余力地干掉他。我会不择手段的。亲爱的小姐,再见。’然后,他用冷酷的灰眼睛看了看我,就走了。

“我赶忙跑进屋,跟劳拉说我们得搬家。为她的健康着想,我们需要一个更安静、空气更好的地方。我说你也希望我们搬家,为什么不现在就搬,等你回来给你一个惊喜呢。她喜欢这个主意,欢天喜地地同意了。我通过一个校友找到这个住处。我做得没错吧,沃尔特?”

我说她做得非常好,这是我的心里话。

但是,她脸上依然带着忧虑,从她的眼神里看得出,她还在害怕伯爵的精明和权势。

“沃尔特,你怎么看他的那些话?下一步你准备怎么做?”

“几星期前,我就决定让劳拉重新在她叔叔家得到应有的承认,”我回答,“现在我还是这样想的。我要让福斯科伯爵为他犯下的罪行付出代价。”

玛丽安的眼睛一亮,虽然没有说话,但是看得出她非常支持这个计划。

“我清楚这样做风险很大,”我说,“但这件事一定要做。我不会愚蠢到没做好准备就动手。我可以等。让他觉得他的话起了作用,认为已经平安无事了。另外,我跟你和劳拉的关系也该比现在更明确。”

“怎么个更明确法?”她吃惊地问。

“玛丽安,我希望你能心平气和地告诉劳拉,她丈夫已经死了。”

“噢,沃尔特,这么快就告诉她?你这样做是不是有什么原因?”

“是的,我现在还不能跟劳拉谈,但总有一天,不会太久,我会告诉她我爱她。”

玛丽安看了我一会儿,然后淡淡地、略带忧伤地笑了笑,“好吧,我明白。我想这是我欠你们的,沃尔特,我会把她丈夫的死讯告诉她。”

第二天,劳拉知道她丈夫死了,她也从这段婚姻中解脱了,那以后我们谁也没再提过她丈夫的名字。

*  *  *

我们的生活恢复了往常的模式,但是我没有忘记伯爵。我了解到他在圣约翰伍德的房子又续租了6个月,因此可以肯定,到了我采取行动的时候,他还会在伦敦,我还可以找到他。

我们终于弄清了安妮·凯瑟里克的父亲是谁。我又去见了克莱门茨太太,告诉她安妮已经死了。她记起凯瑟里克太太当仆人的地方。她的雇主姓多桑。

我们给多桑先生写信,他在回信中告诉我们一些非常有趣的信息。菲利普·费尔利,就是劳拉的父亲,年轻时和他是好友,也是他家里的常客。菲利普风流潇洒,喜欢女色。多桑先生非常肯定凯瑟里克太太在他家当仆人的那段时间,也就是安妮出生的前一年,菲利普·费尔利一直住在他家。

玛丽安和我算了算时间,我们想到安妮和劳拉如此地相像,想到劳拉如此地像她父亲,我们得到了非常肯定的答案。菲利普·费尔利是安妮的父亲,安妮和劳拉是同父异母的姐妹。

现在,那位白衣女人,那位在寂静深夜出现的古怪而哀伤的女人终于可以安息了。

*  *  *

四个月过去了,劳拉的身体渐渐强壮起来,头脑也慢慢清楚了。她几乎又是原来的她了。我们交谈的时候,感觉和当初在利默里奇谈话时一样。当我无意间碰到她的时候,我感到心跳在加速,而且我注意到她也脸红了。

4月,我们到海边度假。在那里,我告诉玛丽安,等回到伦敦,我一定要迫使福斯科伯爵说实话,让他说出劳拉回伦敦的真正日期。

“但是为了劳拉的安全,我想如果我挑战伯爵的话,最好以她丈夫的身份前去,你同意吗,玛丽安?”

“完全同意,”玛丽安说,“我曾让你们两个分开,你在这儿等我一下,我的好朋友!一会儿劳拉就过来,她会告诉你我这次是怎么做的,好吗?”

她吻了吻我的额头,走了出去。我在窗旁等着,眼睛望着海滩,却什么也看不到,我紧张得几乎喘不过气来。门开了,劳拉一个人走进来。我们在利默里奇分手的时候,她是慢慢地走进房间的,神情充满了痛苦和犹豫。这会儿,她跑向我,脸上闪耀着幸福的光芒。她张开手臂紧紧地拥抱我,用甜润的双唇吻着我。

“亲爱的!”她轻声说,“现在我们能对彼此说‘我爱你’了吧?啊,我终于得到幸福了!”

十天以后,我们的幸福又向前迈进了一步,我们结婚了。

14
The confession

A fortnight later, we returned to London, and I began to prepare for my battle with the Count. It was now early May and the rental agreement for his house ended in June. In my new happiness with Laura (to whom we never mentioned the Count's name), I was sometimes tempted to change my mind and to leave things as they were. But she still had dreams, terrible dreams that made her cry out in her sleep, and I knew I had to go on.

First, I tried to find out more about the Count. Marian told me that he had not been back to Italy for many years. Had he been obliged to leave Italy for political reasons, I wondered? But Marian also said that at Blackwater Park he had received official-looking letters with Italian stamps on, which would seem to contradict this idea. Perhaps he was a spy, I thought. That might explain why he had stayed in England so long after the successful completion of his plot. Who could I ask who might know something? Another Italian, perhaps — and I suddenly thought of my old friend, Professor Pesca.

Before I did that, I decided to have a look at the Count, as up to this time I had never once set eyes on him. So one morning I went to Forest Road, St John's Wood, and waited near his house. Eventually, he came out and I followed behind him as he walked towards the centre of London. Marian had prepared me for his enormous size and fashionable clothes, but not for the horrible freshness and cheerfulness and energy of the man.

Near Oxford Street he stopped to read a sign announcing an opera, and then went into the opera ticket office, which was nearby. I went over to read the sign. The opera was being performed that evening, and it seemed likely that the Count would be in the audience.

If I invite Pesca to the opera, I thought, I can point the Count out to him and find out if he knows him. So I bought two tickets myself, sent Pesca a note, and that evening called to take him with me to the opera.

The music had already started when we went in, and all the seats were filled. However, there was room to stand at the sides. I looked around and saw the Count sitting in a seat half-way down, so I placed myself exactly on a line with him, with Pesca standing at my side. When the first part finished, the audience, including the Count, rose to look about them.

When the Count was looking in our direction, I nudged Pesca with my elbow. 'You see that tall fat man? Do you know him?'

'No,' said Pesca. 'Is he famous? Why do you point him out?'

'Because I have a reason for wanting to know more about him. He's an Italian, and his name is Count Fosco. Do you know that name? Look — stand on this step so that you can see him better.'

A slim, fair-haired man, with a scar on his left cheek, was standing near us. I saw him look at Pesca, and then follow the direction of his eyes to the Count. Pesca repeated that he did not know him, and as he spoke, the Count looked our way again.

The eyes of the two Italians met.

In that second I was suddenly convinced that, while Pesca may not have known the Count, the Count certainly knew Pesca!

Not only knew him, but — more surprising still — feared him as well. The Count's face had frozen into a dreadful stillness, the cheeks as pale as death, the cold grey eyes staring in terror.

Nearby, the man with the scar also seemed to be watching with interest the effect that Pesca had had on the Count.

'How the fat man stares!' Pesca said, looking round at me. 'But I've never seen him before in my life.'

As Pesca looked away, the Count turned, moving quickly towards the back of the theatre, where the crowd was thickest. I caught Pesca's arm and, to his great surprise, hurried him with me after the Count. The slim man with the scar had apparently also decided to leave, and was already ahead of us. By the time Pesca and I reached the entrance, neither the Count nor the slim man was in sight.

'Pesca,' I said urgently, 'I must speak to you in private. May we go to your lodgings to talk?'

'What on earth is the matter?' cried Pesca.

I hurried him on without answering. The way the Count had left the theatre, his extraordinary anxiety to avoid Pesca, made me fear that he might go even further — and out of my reach.

In Pesca's lodgings, I explained everything as fast as I could, while Pesca stared at me in great confusion and amazement.

'He knows you — he's afraid of you. He left the theatre to escape you,' I said. 'There must be a reason, Pesca! Think of your own life before you came to England. You left Italy for political reasons. I don't ask what they were. But could that man's terror be connected with your past in some way?'

To my inexpressible surprise, these harmless words seemed to terrify Pesca. His face went white and he started to tremble.

'Walter!' he whispered. 'You don't know what you ask.'

I stared at him. 'Pesca, forgive me. I didn't mean to cause you pain. I spoke only because of what my wife has suffered from that man's cruel actions. You must forgive me.'

I rose to go. He stopped me before I reached the door.

'Wait,' he said. 'You saved my life once. You have a right to hear from me what you want to know, even though I could be killed for it. I only ask that, if you find the connection between my past and that man Fosco, you do not tell me.'

Then, his face still pale as the memories of the past crowded in on him, he told me the story.

'In my youth I belonged — and still belong — to a secret political society. Let's call it the Brotherhood, I can't tell you its real name. But I took too many risks and did something which put other members in danger. So I was ordered to go and live in England and to wait. I went — I have waited — I still wait. I could be called away tomorrow, or in ten years. I cannot know.

'The purpose of the Brotherhood is to fight for the rights of the people. There is a president in Italy, and presidents abroad. Each of these has his secretary. The presidents and secretaries know the members, but members don't know each other, until it's considered necessary. Every member of the Brotherhood is identified by a small round mark burnt into the skin, high up on the inside of their left arm.'

He rolled up his sleeve and showed me his own mark.

'If anyone betrays the Brotherhood,' he went on, 'he is a dead man. Another member, a distant stranger or a neighbour, will be ordered to kill him. No one can leave the society — ever.'

Pesca paused, then continued. 'In Italy I was chosen to be secretary. The members at that time were brought face to face with the president, and were also brought face to face with me. You understand me — I see it in your face. But tell me nothing, I beg you! Let me stay free of a responsibility which horrifies me.

'I do not know the man at the opera,' he said finally. 'If he knows me, he is so changed, or disguised, that I do not know him. Leave me now, Walter. I have said enough.'

'I thank you with all my heart, Pesca,' I said. 'You will never, never regret the trust you have placed in me.'

Walking home, my heart beat with excitement. Here at last, surely, was my weapon against the Count! I was convinced he was a member of the Brotherhood, had betrayed it, and believed that he had been recognized tonight. His life was now in danger. What else could explain his extreme terror at seeing Pesca?

And what would he do next? Leave London as fast as he could. If I went to his house and tried to stop him, he would not hesitate to kill me. To protect myself, I had to make his safety depend on mine. I hurried home and wrote this letter to Pesca:

The man at the opera, Fosco, is a member of your society and has betrayed it. Go instantly to his house at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. I am already dead. Use your power against him without delay.

I signed and dated the letter, and wrote on the envelope: Keep until nine o'clock tomorrow morning. If you do not hear from me before then, open the envelope and read the contents.

I then found a messenger, told him to deliver the letter and bring back a note from Professor Pesca to say he had received it. Twenty minutes later I had the note, and as I was leaving, Marian came to the door, looking anxious.

'It's tonight, isn't it?' she said. 'You're going to the Count.'

'Yes, it's the last chance, and the best.'

'Oh, Walter, not alone! Let me go with you. Don't go alone?'

'No, Marian. You must stay here and guard Laura for me. Then I will be easy in my mind when I face the Count.'

*  *  *

As I approached the Count's house, I passed the man with the scar on his cheek, whom I had noticed earlier at the opera. What was he doing here, I wondered?

I sent in my card, and I still do not know why the Count let me into his house at half past eleven at night. Was he just curious to see me? He would not have known that I was at the opera with Pesca, and I suppose he thought he had nothing to fear from me.

He was still in his evening suit, and there was a travelling case on the floor, with books, papers, and clothes all around him. My guess had been right.

'You come here on business, Mr Hartright?' he said, looking at me with curiosity. 'I cannot think what that might be.'

'You are obviously preparing for a journey,' I said. 'That is my business. I know why you are leaving London.'

'So you know why I am leaving London?' He went over to a table and opened a drawer.' Tell me the reason, if you please.'

'I can show you the reason,' I said. 'Roll up the sleeve on your left arm, and you will see it.'

His cold grey eyes stared into mine. There was a long heartbeat of silence. I was as certain as if I had seen it that he had a gun hidden in the drawer, and that my life hung by a thread.

'Wait a little,' I said. 'Before you act, I advise you to read this note.' Moving slowly and carefully, I passed him Pesca's note.

He read the lines aloud.

Your letter is received. If I don't hear from you before nine o'clock, I will open the envelope when the clock strikes.

Another man might have needed an explanation, but not the Count. His expression changed, and he closed the drawer.

'You are cleverer than I thought,' he said. 'I cannot leave before nine as I have to wait for a passport to be delivered. Your information may be true or may be false — where did you get it?'

'I refuse to tell you.'

'And that unsigned note you showed me — who wrote it?'

'A man whom you have every reason to fear.'

A pause. 'What do you want of me, Mr Hartright? Is it to do with a lady, perhaps?'

'Yes, my wife,' I answered.

He looked at me in real amazement, and I saw at once that he no longer considered me a dangerous man. He folded his arms and listened to me with a cold smile.

'You are guilty of a wicked crime,' I went on. 'But you can keep the money. All I want is a signed confession of the plot and a proof of the date my wife travelled to London.'

'Good!' he said. 'Those are your conditions; here are mine. One, Madame Fosco and I leave the house when we please and you do not try to stop us. Two, you wait here until my agent comes early tomorrow morning and you give him an order to get back your letter unopened. You then allow us half an hour to leave the house. Three, you agree to fight me at a place to be arranged later abroad. Do you accept my conditions — yes or no?'

His quick decision, his cleverness and force of character amazed me. For a second I hesitated. Should I let him escape? Yes, the evidence I needed to prove Laura's identity was far more important than revenge.

'I accept your conditions,' I said.

At once, he called for coffee and sat down to write. He wrote quickly for quite some time. Finally, he jumped up, declared that he had finished and read out his statement, which I accepted as satisfactory. He gave me the address of the company from whom he had hired the cab to collect Laura, and also gave me a letter signed by Sir Percival. It was dated 25th July, and announced the journey of Lady Glyde to London on 26th July. So there it was. On 25th July, the date of her death certificate in London, Laura was alive in Hampshire, about to make a journey the next day.

The Count then called in Madame Fosco to watch me while he slept. Early in the morning his agent arrived and I wrote a note for Pesca. An hour later, the agent returned with my unopened letter and the Count's passport.

'Remember the third condition!' the Count said as he left. 'You will hear from me, Mr Hartright.' Then he and the Countess got into the agent's cab with their bags and drove away, leaving the agent with me to make sure I did not follow.

As I watched them leave, another cab went by and I saw inside the man with the scar on his cheek. What was his business with the Count, I wondered? I had seen him too often now for it to be chance. Perhaps I had fought my own battle with the Count just in time. You cannot get a signed confession out of a dead man.

While I waited for the agreed half hour, I read the document that the Count had written for me.


Statement by Isidor Ottavio Baldassare Fosco

In the summer of 1850 I arrived in England on delicate political business and stayed with my friend, Sir Percival Glyde. We both urgently needed large amounts of money. The only person who had such money was his wife, from whom not a penny could be obtained until her death. To make matters worse, my friend had other private problems. A woman called Anne Catherick was hidden in the neighbourhood, was communicating with Lady Glyde, and knew a secret which could ruin him. And if he was ruined, what would happen to our financial interests?

The first thing to do was to find Anne Catherick, who, I was told, looked very much like Lady Glyde and who had escaped from a mad-house. I had the fantastic idea of changing the names, places and lives of Lady Glyde and Anne Catherick, the one with the other. The wonderful results of this change would be the gain of £ 30,000 and the keeping of Sir Percival's secret.

I found Anne Catherick and persuaded her and her friend to return to London. I rented a house in St John's Wood for myself, and obtained from Mr Fairlie in Limmeridge an invitation for Lady Glyde to visit. For my plan to work, it was necessary for Lady Glyde to leave Blackwater Park alone and stay a night at my house on her way to Limmeridge. This plan was made easier by Miss Halcombe's illness. I returned to Blackwater Park, and when Miss Halcombe was out of danger, I got rid of the doctor and instructed Sir Percival to get rid of the servants.

Next, we sent Mrs Michelson away for a few days, and one night Madame Fosco, Mrs Rubelle and I moved the sleeping Miss Halcombe to an unused part of the house. I left for London in the morning with my wife, leaving Sir Percival to persuade Lady Glyde that her sister had gone to Limmeridge and that she should follow her, breaking her journey in London at my house.

On 24th July, with my wife's help, I got hold of Anne Catherick, and took her to my house as Lady Glyde. However, when she saw no one she recognized, she screamed with fear and, to my horror, the shock to her weak heart caused her to collapse. By the end of the following day, she was dead. Dead on the 25th, and Lady Glyde was not due to arrive in London till the 26th!

It was too late to change the plan. I remained calm and carried on. On the 26th, leaving the false Lady Glyde dead in my house, I collected the true Lady Glyde from the railway station and took her to Mrs Rubelle's house. The two medical men I had hired (shall we say) were easily persuaded to certify the confused and frightened Lady Glyde as mentally ill. Then I gave her a drug and had Mrs Rubelle dress her in Anne Catherick's clothes. The next day, the 27th, she was delivered to the asylum, where she was received with great surprise, but without suspicion. The false Lady Glyde was buried at Limmeridge. I attended the funeral with suitable expressions of deep sympathy.

One final question remains. If Anne Catherick had not died when she did, what would I have done? I would, of course, have given her a happy release from the prison of life.


tempt v. to make someone want to have or do something 引诱

contradict v. be in conflict with 与……相矛盾

perform v. act 表演

nudge v. push gently 轻轻地碰

inexpressible adj. that can not be expressed 难以说清的

disguise v. alter the appearance so as to conceal the identity 伪装

curious adj. eager to learn; inquisitive 好奇的

aloud adv. audibly 出声地

agent n. a person who acts for another in business, politics etc. 代理人

delicate adj. tricky 微妙的

fantastic adj. wonderful 绝好的

14.认罪

两个星期之后,我们回到了伦敦。我开始准备与伯爵的较量。现在是5月初,他租房的期限到6月。享受着与劳拉新婚的幸福(我们从未跟她提起过伯爵),有时我忍不住想改变主意,让一切都过去。但是劳拉仍会做梦,可怕的噩梦,她常常在梦里惊叫起来,因此我明白必须继续原来的计划。

首先,我想尽量多了解一些伯爵的事。玛丽安告诉我,他已经很多年没有回意大利了。我想,他是不是由于政治原因被迫离开意大利的呢?但是玛丽安又说,在布莱克沃特庄园他好像收到过贴着意大利邮票的官方来信,这两者是互相矛盾的。也许他是间谍。这样可以解释为什么他在自己的阴谋得逞后,还在英国逗留那么久。有谁能告诉我答案呢?也许该再找个意大利人问问——猛然间我想到了老朋友,佩斯卡教授。

去见佩斯卡教授前,我决定先去看一下伯爵,因为到目前为止,我还从来没有见过他。于是一天早上,我去了圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特大街,在他的住处附近等他出现。最后,他终于出来了,朝伦敦市中心走去。我在后面跟着他。玛丽安跟我提过他身躯肥胖,衣着入时,但我没想到这个人那么精力旺盛,神采飞扬。

在牛津街附近,他停住脚步看一个歌剧的海报,然后走进了不远处的售票处。我过去看了一下海报,发现演出就在晚上,伯爵很可能会出现在观众当中。

我想假如邀请佩斯卡来看歌剧,就可以把伯爵指给他,看他是否认识。于是,我自己买了两张票,给佩斯卡写了封短信,晚上找他一起去看歌剧。

我们进入剧院的时候,音乐已经响起来了,剧场里座无虚席。不过剧场两边还有站的地方。我环顾四周,看到伯爵坐在前面几排的座位上,于是我也站到了那一排,佩斯卡站在我旁边。第一部分演出结束了,观众们,包括伯爵在内,都起身向周围张望。

在伯爵朝我们这个方向看的时候,我用臂肘碰了一下佩斯卡,“看见那个高大的胖子了吗?你认识他吗?”

“不认识,”佩斯卡回答,“他很有名吗?你为什么让我看他?”

“因为我需要更多地了解关于他的情况。他是意大利人,叫福斯科伯爵。你听说过这个名字吗?来,站这个台阶上,你会看得更清楚些。”

一个瘦瘦的金发男子站在我们的旁边,他的左脸上有一道疤。我注意到他看了看佩斯卡,又顺着佩斯卡的视线看了看伯爵。佩斯卡再一次对我说,他不认识那个人,就在他说话的时候,伯爵朝我们这边看过来。

这两个意大利人的目光相遇了。

那一瞬间,我敢肯定地说,佩斯卡可能不认识伯爵,但伯爵一定认识佩斯卡!

不仅是认识,更令人惊奇的是伯爵害怕佩斯卡。伯爵脸上的表情凝固了,像死人一样毫无血色,冷酷的灰眼睛恐惧地盯着这边。

脸上有疤的人似乎饶有兴趣地在一旁看着佩斯卡对伯爵的影响。

“那个胖子怎么那样看着我!”佩斯卡说,转过头看着我,“我从未见过他呀。”

佩斯卡扭头的时候,伯爵转身快步向剧场后边走去,那里人最多。我一把抓住佩斯卡的胳膊,不顾他的惊讶,拉着他紧追伯爵。那个脸上有疤的瘦子显然也准备离开剧场,并且已经走到了我们的前面。等我和佩斯卡赶到入口,伯爵和那个瘦子都已经不见了。

“佩斯卡,”我赶忙说,“我必须和你单独谈谈,我们到你的住处去谈可以吗?”

“这到底是怎么回事?”佩斯卡大声说。

我没回答,只是催着他赶紧走。伯爵离开剧场的样子,还有他迫不及待地要躲避佩斯卡,使我担心他可能会逃得更远——我可能再也找不到他了。

到了佩斯卡的住处,我以最快的速度向他讲述了事情的经过,他充满迷惑和惊讶地望着我。

他认识你——他很怕你。他离开剧场就是要逃避你,”我说,“这其中一定有原因,佩斯卡!回忆一下你来英国以前的经历。你是由于政治原因离开意大利的,我不是问你那些政治原因,不过那个人如此惊慌会不会同你的过去有什么关联?”

令我非常吃惊的是,这些本来无关紧要的话好像令佩斯卡非常惊恐。他的脸色变得煞白,身体开始颤抖。

“沃尔特!”他低声说,“你不知道你问了什么。”

我两眼紧盯着他,“佩斯卡,请原谅。我不是有意要给你带来痛苦,我说那些话只是因为那个人给我妻子带来了巨大的伤害。请你原谅我。”

我起身要离开,还没走到门口,他叫住了我。

“等一下,”他说,“你救过我的命,你有权从我这里知道你想要知道的东西,即使这会要了我的命。我唯一的请求是,即使你发现了我的过去同那个福斯科的关系,你也不要告诉我。”

接着,他开始讲他的经历,过去的记忆卷土重来,令他脸色煞白。

“我年轻的时候参加了一个秘密政治社团,现在还是它的成员。我们姑且叫它兄弟社团,我不能告诉你真实的名称。我当时完成了很多出生入死的任务,也做了一些给其他成员带来危险的事,所以社团命令我到英国待命。我服从命令来了英国——一直在等——现在还在等。我可能明天就被召回,也许是10年以后。我不知道。

“兄弟社团的宗旨是为人民争取权利。它在意大利有一个主席,国外有很多主席。每个主席都有秘书。主席和秘书认识所有的成员,但除非在必要的情况下,成员们彼此都不认识。每个兄弟社团成员的左臂内侧靠上的地方都有一个很小的圆形烙印,这是他们的记号。”

他卷起衣袖,给我看他自己的烙印。

“任何人背叛了兄弟社团,”他接着说,“他肯定会被处死。其他成员,也许是一个他不认识的陌生人,也许是他的邻居,会奉命杀死他。任何人不能退出社团——永远都不可以。”

佩斯卡停了一会儿又说:“在意大利,我被选为秘书,所有的成员那时都被带来见主席,当然也就见到了。你明白了我的意思——我从你的表情看出来了。但是,什么也别跟我说,求你了!我不想做我必须做的事,我感到害怕。

“我不认识剧场的那个人,”他最后说,“如果他认识,那他一定跟以前变化很大,或者伪装了自己,让我认不出来了。你现在走吧,沃尔特。我说得够多了。”

“我衷心地感谢你,佩斯卡,”我说,“你永远不会为信任我而后悔的。”

走在回家的路上,我的心情激动不已。我终于找到了对付伯爵的武器。我敢肯定他原来是一个兄弟社团成员,后来背叛了社团,他认为自己今晚被认出来了。现在他的生命很危险。不然他见到佩斯卡为什么那样害怕呢?

那他接着会做什么呢?尽快离开伦敦。如果我去他的住处拦住他,他肯定会毫不犹豫地杀了我。为保护我自己,我必须让他的生命安全地攥在我的手里。我赶忙回到家,给佩斯卡写了一封信:

剧场的那个人,福斯科,是你们社团的一个成员,他背叛了社团。赶快到他的住处圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特街5号。我已经死了。请用你的力量立即干掉他。

我签了名,写上日期,又在信封上写道:等到明天上午9点。如果到那时还没有我的消息,再打开信封读里面的内容。

然后,我找了一个信使,叫他把信送走并带回佩斯卡的回复,说他已经收到信了。20分钟后,我拿到了回复的纸条。我刚要离开,玛丽安出现在门口,脸上露出担忧的表情。

“就是今天晚上吗?”她说,“你要去找伯爵。”

“对,这是最后的机会,也是最好的机会。”

“噢,沃尔特,别一个人去!让我跟你去吧,不要一个人去!”

“不行,玛丽安。你必须留在这里替我保护劳拉。那样,我面对伯爵的时候才会放心。”

*  *  *

快到伯爵住处的时候,我碰见了脸上有疤的那个人,早些时候在剧场就见过他。他在这儿做什么,我心里很纳闷。

我把名片递进去,我到现在也不明白,为什么夜里11点半伯爵还让我进去。他对我好奇,想见我?他并不知道我和佩斯卡同在剧场,我猜想他觉得我没有什么好怕的。

他还穿着晚礼服,地上有一个旅行箱,他周围满是书籍、文件和衣服。我猜的没错。

“你来这里有事,哈特里特先生?”他一边说,一边用好奇的眼光打量我,“我想不出会是什么事。”

“你像是在准备出门旅行,”我说,“这就是我来的原因。我知道你为什么要离开伦敦。”

“你知道我为什么要离开伦敦?”他走到一张桌旁,打开抽屉,“如果你愿意,说说为什么。”

“我可以让你看看为什么,”我说,“把你左边的衣袖卷起,就能看到。”

他那冷酷的灰眼睛一动不动地盯着我。接下来是一阵令人紧张的寂静。我就像亲眼所见一样清楚,那抽屉里藏着枪,我现在命悬一线。

“等一下,”我说,“你动手之前,我建议你看看这个纸条。”我慢慢地、小心翼翼地把佩斯卡的纸条递给他。

他出声读着纸条。

你的信收到了。如果9点以前没有你的消息,9点整,钟一响我就打开信封。

假如换作另外一个人,可能需要一些解释,但伯爵不需要。他脸上的表情变了,他关上了抽屉。

“你比我想的要聪明,”他说,“我9点以前走不了,我得等人给我送护照来。你得到的信息可能是真的,也可能是假的。你是从哪儿知道的?”

“我不会告诉你的。”

“你给我的没有签名的纸条是谁写的?”

“一个你非常害怕的人。”

他停了一会儿,“你要我做什么,哈特里特先生?是不是跟一位女士有关?”

“是的,是我妻子。”我回答。

他非常吃惊地看着我。看得出他不再认为我会给他带来危险了。他双手交叉抱在胸前,面带冷笑听我继续说下去。

“你犯下了严重的罪行,”我接着说道,“但是,你可以留着你得到的钱。我只要一个由你签名的认罪书,还有我妻子回伦敦的日期证明。”

“好!”他说,“这是你的条件,我的条件是:第一,福斯科夫人和我在我们愿意的时候离开这里,你不要阻止我们。第二,你呆在这里,明天一早我的代理人过来,你让他取回那封还没有打开的信。然后,你要给我们半个小时的时间离开这里。第三,你答应跟我在国外找一个地方决斗。你接受我的条件吗——是还是否?”

他的迅速决断,他的精干和意志力令我震惊。我犹豫了一会儿。我应该让他逃走吗?是的,证明劳拉身份的证据比复仇重要得多。

“我接受你的条件。”我说。

他随即叫人拿来咖啡,坐下开始写。他落笔如飞,写了很长时间。最后,他站起来,说他已经写完了并念给我听。我觉得还满意。他给了我他租车接劳拉的那家公司的地址,同时给我的还有珀西瓦尔爵士签名的一封信。信的日期是7月25日,里面说格莱德夫人将于7月26日启程去伦敦。这就是证据。7月25日,即死亡证明上宣告劳拉死于伦敦的日子,劳拉还在汉普郡活着准备第二天的旅行。

然后,伯爵把福斯科夫人叫进来,让她看着我,他自己去睡觉。第二天一早,他的代理人来了,我给佩斯卡写了封短信。一个小时后,代理人拿着我那封没打开的信和护照回来了。

“别忘了第三个条件!”伯爵临走时说,“你会收到我的信的,哈特里特先生。”说完,他和伯爵夫人坐上代理人的马车离开了这里,代理人留下来,确保我不跟踪他们。

我看着他们离开,这时另一辆马车驶过去,车里坐着那个脸上有疤的人。他和伯爵有什么瓜葛?我看到他好几次了,不应该是巧合。或许我跟伯爵的较量正是时候。他要是死了,我就没法得到他签名的笔录了。

在约定的半小时里,我读了伯爵写给我的认罪书。

伊西多·奥塔维奥·鲍尔德塞尔·福斯科的证词

1850年夏天,由于微妙的政治原因我来到英国,同我的朋友珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士住在一起。我们两人都急需一大笔钱。唯一拥有这笔钱的人是他妻子,但是他妻子不死,我们一分钱也得不到。更糟糕的是,我的朋友又遇到了别的麻烦事。一个叫安妮·凯瑟里克的女人藏在我们附近,她在同格莱德夫人接触,并且掌握着一个可以毁掉珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。如果他完蛋了,那我们的经济利益怎么办呢?

我们要做的第一件事就是找到安妮·凯瑟里克。我了解到她的长相和格莱德夫人极为相似。她是从精神病院逃出来的。我突发奇想,把格莱德夫人同安妮·凯瑟里克的名字、住处、经历互换一下。互换的结果既可以让我们得到3万英镑,又能够保住珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。

我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,说服她和她的朋友回伦敦去。我自己在圣约翰伍德租了房子,同时从利默里奇的费尔利先生那里得到了邀请格莱德夫人去看望他的信。要实现我的计划,必须让格莱德夫人一个人离开布莱克沃特庄园,在去往利默里奇的途中在我家里住一夜。哈尔库姆小姐的病让我的计划更容易进行了。我回到布莱克沃特庄园,等哈尔库姆小姐一脱离危险,就辞退了医生,并且让珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了所有仆人。

下一步,我们让米切尔森太太离开庄园几天。一天晚上,福斯科夫人、鲁贝尔太太和我把昏睡中的哈尔库姆小姐抬到了一个没有人住的房间里。转天一早,我和夫人赶往伦敦,留下珀西瓦尔爵士劝说格莱德夫人,让她相信她姐姐已经去了利默里奇,她也应该去找她,途中在伦敦我的家休息。

7月24日,在我妻子的协助下,我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,把她带到我的住处,假装就是格莱德夫人。然而,当安妮·凯瑟里克看到没有一个她认识的人时,吓得叫了起来。令我非常害怕的是,惊吓使她脆弱的心脏无法承受,转天她就死了。她是25日死的,可是格莱德夫人26日才能到伦敦!

改变计划已经来不及了。我尽量保持头脑冷静,继续着原来的计划。26日,我把已死的假格莱德夫人留在家里,到车站去接真正的格莱德夫人,带她到鲁贝尔太太家。我雇用的(可以这样说)两个医生很容易就被说服了,他们证明迷惑而惊恐的格莱德夫人患了精神病。而后,我给她吃了镇静药,让鲁贝尔太太给她穿上安妮·凯瑟里克的衣服。第二天,也就是27日,格莱德夫人被送进精神病院,那里的人非常吃惊,但没有人怀疑。假格莱德夫人被埋葬在利默里奇。我出席了葬礼,表现出应有的悲伤与同情。

还有最后一个问题,如果安妮·凯瑟里克没有死的话,我会怎么办呢?我当然很高兴帮她摆脱牢笼般的人生。

15
The proof

When the half hour had passed, I returned home. After a brief explanation to Laura and Marian, I hurried back to St John's Wood to find the cab-driver whom the Count had hired to collect Laura at the station. He wrote me a statement, which he and a witness signed, saying that on 26th July 1850 he had driven a Count Fosco to the railway station where they had collected a Lady Glyde. He remembered Lady Glyde's name, he said, from the labels on her luggage.

Then I went to Mr Kyrle's office and presented him with the proof of Laura's identity — the letter from Sir Percival, the statement by the cab-driver, the confession by the Count, and the death certificate. Amazed, he congratulated me, and agreed to accompany us to Limmeridge the next day, where I intended to have Laura publicly received and recognized.

Early the next morning Laura, Marian, Mr Kyrle and I took the train to Limmeridge. Laura and Marian stayed at first in a hotel while Mr Kyrle and I went to the house to deal with Mr Fairlie. He complained like a child, saying how was he to know his niece was alive when he was told she was dead? Between us, the lawyer and I made him sign letters calling all those who had attended the false funeral to come to the house the next day.

As I led Laura into her childhood home the following morning, there was a murmur of surprise and interest from the waiting crowd of villagers and neighbours. The business was soon done. I read out the story of the plot against Laura, and Mr Kyrle announced that everything I had said was proved by the strongest evidence. I put my arm around Laura, raised her up, and called to the crowd:

'Are you all agreed that this is the Laura Fairlie you knew?'

'There she is, alive and well — God bless her!' It was an old man at the back of the room who began it, and in an instant everybody was shouting and cheering together.

Later, in the churchyard, we watched a stone worker remove Laura's name from the gravestone. In its place he put this:

ANNE CATHERICK

25TH JULY 1850

We returned to London the following day, happy in the thought that the long struggle was now over.

*  *  *

Several days later Pesca came to see me, and asked for a quiet word in my ear. He had just returned from Paris.

'I have news for you, my friend,' he said. 'You need not worry any more about the man at the opera. His body was found in the river Seine yesterday and now lies in the morgue in Paris. He was killed by knife wounds to the heart.'

'Count Fosco is dead?' I said, amazed. 'Are you sure?'

'I saw the body with my own eyes. He was wearing a French workman's clothes, and had a different name, of course, but he was the fat man we saw at the opera that night. No question.'

'But how do you know this?' I asked.

Pesca hesitated. 'A man brought me some information,' he said. 'I had to see the body, and send a report about it.'

'A man,' I said. 'What kind of man?'

'A stranger,' said Pesca. 'I didn't know him. A man with a scar on his left cheek.' He saw the understanding in my face, and held up his hand. 'No more questions, my friend. Please!'

We never spoke about it again, but I think Pesca was telling me that the Brotherhood had taken their revenge. And so Count Fosco, that extraordinary, evil man, passed from this world.

*  *  *

The following year our first child was born — a son. Six months later my newspaper sent me to Ireland and, when I returned, I found a note from my wife saying she and Marian and little Walter had gone to Limmeridge House. She begged me to follow as soon as possible. Very surprised, I caught the next train. When I got there, Marian and Laura told me Mr Fairlie was dead and that Mr Kyrle had advised them to go to Limmeridge House.

Laura came close to me and I half realized some great change was happening in our lives.

'Do you know who this is, Walter?' Marian asked, holding up my little son, with tears of happiness in her eyes. 'This is the boy who will one day inherit Limmeridge House.'

So she spoke. In writing those last words, I have written everything. Marian was the good friend of our lives — let Marian end our story.


label n. a small piece of paper, card etc. attached to an object and giving information about it 标签

congratulate v. express pleasure at the happiness or good fortune or excellence of a person 祝贺

morgue n. a room or building in which dead bodies may be kept until burial or cremation 停尸间

15.证据

alt

那半个小时过去了,我回到家里。简单地向劳拉和玛丽安说明了情况后,我立即赶回圣约翰伍德去找那个伯爵雇来到车站接劳拉的车夫。那人给我写了份证词,他和另一个证人都签了字。证词说,1850年7月26日他驾车送福斯科伯爵去车站,接了一位格莱德夫人。他说还记得格莱德夫人的名字,是在行李标签上看到的。

然后,我去了克尔先生的办公室,给他看了证明劳拉身份的证据——珀西瓦尔爵士的信、马车夫的证词、伯爵的认罪书和那份死亡证明。克尔先生很吃惊,接着向我表示祝贺并且答应第二天陪我们到利默里奇,我准备让人们公开地接受和认可劳拉。

转天的一大早,劳拉、玛丽安、克尔先生和我乘火车前往利默里奇。劳拉和玛丽安先在一家旅店里休息,克尔先生和我去庄园与费尔利先生交涉。费尔利先生像孩子一样抱怨说,有人告诉他他侄女死了,他怎么会知道他侄女还活着?在只有我们三个人的情况下,克尔先生和我让他在事先准备好的信上签字,邀请所有参加那场假葬礼的人第二天到费尔利家来。

第二天早晨,当我带着劳拉走进她儿时的家时,等候在那里的村民和邻居们发出惊奇的低语声。很快我们进入了正题。我大声宣读了针对劳拉的罪恶阴谋的全过程,克尔先生当众宣布我说的每一件事都证据确凿。我搂住劳拉,扶她起来,高声对众人说:

“你们说这是不是你们认识的劳拉·费尔利?”

“是她,她还好好地活着——上帝保佑她!”一位站在屋子后面的老人首先说,其他人也都立刻欢呼起来。

后来,在教堂墓地里,我们亲眼看着一位石匠把劳拉的名字从墓碑上凿去,在原来的地方刻上:

安妮·凯瑟里克

卒于1850年7月25日

转天,我们返回了伦敦,想到漫长的斗争终于结束了,我们都非常高兴。

*  *  *

过了几天,佩斯卡来看我,要跟我单独聊聊。他刚从巴黎回来。

“我有重要的消息要告诉你,我的朋友,”他说,“你不用再担心剧场里的那个人了,昨天在塞纳河发现了他的尸体,现在他的尸体停放在巴黎的停尸间。他是被人用刀子刺进心脏而死的。”

“福斯科伯爵已经死了?”我吃惊地问,“你能肯定吗?”

“我亲眼看了他的尸体,他穿着法国工人的制服,当然也换了名字,但他就是那天晚上我们在剧场见到的那个胖子。一点儿没错。”

“可你是怎么知道这个消息的呢?”我问。

佩斯卡犹豫了一下。“有人告诉我的,”他说,“我必须亲眼看到他的尸体,然后发一个报告。”

“有人,”我说,“是什么人?”

“一个陌生人,”佩斯卡回答,“我不认识那个人,他的左脸上有一道疤。”看到我脸上了然的表情,他抬了抬手,“请不要多问了,我的朋友!”

我们再没有提起这件事,不过我想佩斯卡是要告诉我兄弟社团已经采取了复仇行动。就这样,福斯科伯爵,那个能力不俗的恶徒从这个世界上消失了。

*  *  *

第二年,我们的第一个孩子出世了——是个儿子。6个月以后,我供职的那家报社派我去了爱尔兰。我回来的时候,看到妻子留给我的一封短信,信上说她和玛丽安还有小沃尔特去了利默里奇庄园。她让我尽快去找他们。我感到很惊讶,赶下一班火车去了那里。我到那儿之后,玛丽安和劳拉告诉我费尔利先生去世了,是克尔先生建议她们到利默里奇庄园去的。

劳拉走到我身边,我朦胧地意识到我们的生活将要发生什么大事。

“你知道这是谁吗,沃尔特?”玛丽安一边举起我的小儿子,一边问我,眼睛里充满了喜悦的泪水,“这个孩子将来有一天会继承利默里奇庄园。”

她就是这样说的。写完了最后几句话,我的讲述就到这里了。玛丽安是我们的终生好友——就让她结束我们的故事吧。

认罪

PART THREE
THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
第三部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

9
The gravestone

On 13th October 1850 I left the wild forests of Central America and returned to England. I had escaped death by disease, death by war, and death by drowning, and hoped that these experiences had strengthened me to face my future — a future without Laura Fairlie. I still remembered her as Laura Fairlie, and could not think of her by her husband's name.

The first thing I did was to visit my mother and sister in their Hampstead cottage. The joy of our meeting, however, soon turned to sadness. I have no secrets from my mother, and when I saw the loving pity in her eyes, I feared the worst.

The news was soon told. I tried hard not to let my sorrow spoil the happiness of my return for my mother and sister, but by the third day I knew I had to go away alone for a while.

'Let me go up to Limmeridge,' I begged my mother. 'I can bear it better when I have seen her grave.'

It was a warm autumn afternoon when I arrived at the station and walked down the familiar road, seeing in the distance the high white walls of Limmeridge House. In the churchyard I found the grave and knelt down beside the gravestone, closing my eyes.

Oh my love! My Love! My dear, dear Love!

Hours passed, and the evening sunlight threw long shadows among the sleeping places of the dead. I had lost all sense of time, kneeling there. Then, in the silence, I heard the soft sound of footsteps on the grass.

I looked up.

Beyond me, standing together by the churchyard wall, were two women, their veils down, hiding their faces. They were looking towards the grave, looking towards me.

Two.

They came closer, and stopped. One of them lifted her veil, and in the still evening light I saw the face of Marian Halcombe. A changed face. Thin and pale, full of pain and fear.

The woman with the veiled face came towards me slowly. Marian Halcombe sank to her knees, murmuring, 'Oh God, help him! Please, please help him, God!'

The veiled woman came on, slowly and silently. I looked at her — at her, and at no one else, from that moment. She had possession of me, body and soul. She stopped by the side of the gravestone, and we stood face to face with the grave between us.

'Oh God, help him, help him!'

The woman lifted her veil.

In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde...

Laura, Lady Glyde, was standing by the gravestone, looking at me over her grave.

*  *  *

A life suddenly changed. A new future before me, like the sunlit view from a mountain top. I leave my story in the quiet shadow of Limmeridge church, and begin again, one week later, in the noise and rush of a London street.

I have rented rooms under a different name. Marian and Laura, using the same name, are said to be my sisters. I earn our bread by doing drawings for cheap magazines. We employ no servant; my elder sister, Marian, does the housework with her own hands. Marian and I are known to be the friends of mad Anne Catherick (address unknown), who falsely claims the identity of Lady Glyde. To the rest of the world, Laura, Lady Glyde, is dead. Dead to her uncle, who has refused to recognize her; dead to the lawyers, who have passed her fortune to her husband and aunt.

But to Marian and me she is alive! Penniless and sadly changed — her beauty faded, her mind confused — but alive, with her poor drawing teacher to fight her battles and to win her way back to the world of living beings. She is mine at last — mine to support, to protect, to defend. And mine to love.


drown v. to kill by submerging and suffocating in liquid 淹死;溺死

strengthen v. make stronger 变得坚强

veil n. a piece of fabric attached to a woman's hat 面纱

earn one's bread earn one's living 维持生计

penniless adj. having no money 身无分文的

9.墓碑

1850年10月13日我离开中美洲的原始森林,回到了英国。我一次次逃过疾病、战争和洪水带来的死亡危险。我希望这些经历能够使我更加坚强地面对未来——没有劳拉的未来。在我心里她依然是劳拉·费尔利,我无法把她冠以她丈夫的姓氏。

我回来后的第一件事是到汉普斯特德看望母亲和妹妹。欢聚的快乐很快转化为悲伤。我没有任何秘密瞒着母亲,从她充满爱怜和同情的眼光里,我预感到最坏的事情发生了。

她们把消息告诉了我。我尽最大努力不让自己的悲哀破坏我回家带给母亲和妹妹的喜悦。但是,回来的第三天,我觉得必须一个人离开一段时间。

“让我到利默里奇去一趟吧,”我恳求着母亲,“看到她的坟墓,我可以更好地接受这一切。”

那是一个秋日的午后,天气很暖和,我到达目的地车站,走在熟悉的大路上,望着远处利默里奇庄园的白色高墙。在教堂墓地里,我找到了劳拉的墓,在她的墓碑前跪下来,闭上了双眼。

我的爱人我的爱人我最亲爱的人

几个小时过去了,落日的余辉在死者的安息地投下长长的影子。我跪在那里,完全没有了时间概念。这时,寂静中传来人走在草地上的脚步声。

我抬起头来。

不远处,教堂墓地的围墙边站着两个女人,面纱遮住了她们的脸。她们正朝墓地张望,正朝张望。

两个女人。

她们朝我走来。其中一个掀起了面纱,借着仅有的一点儿光线,我看出那是玛丽安·哈尔库姆小姐。她的脸变得跟从前不一样了:清瘦而苍白,充满了痛苦和恐惧。

头戴面纱的女人缓慢地向我走来。玛丽安·哈尔库姆跪下来,轻声说:“噢,上帝,帮帮他吧,帮帮他吧,上帝!”

头戴面纱的女人向我走来,缓慢地,无言地向我走来。我注视着她——目不转睛地久久注视着她。她占据了我的一切,我的灵魂和肉体。她在墓碑前停住脚步,我们隔着坟墓互相注视着。

“噢,上帝,帮帮他,帮帮他吧!”

那个女人掀起了面纱。

爱妻劳拉·格莱德夫人之墓……

劳拉·格莱德夫人,她就站在墓碑旁,隔着坟墓望着我。

alt

*  *  *

生活突然间变了。一个崭新的未来展现在我的面前,就像在山顶上看到的撒满阳光的景色。我把过去的故事留在了利默里奇教堂那寂静的阴影中,一星期后在喧闹、繁忙的伦敦开始了新的生活。

我换了一个姓氏租了房子。玛丽安和劳拉也用同样的姓氏,对外人就说是我的姐妹。我靠给廉价杂志画画维持生计。我们没有请仆人,我的姐姐,玛丽安亲自做家务。我和玛丽安对外就说是疯女人安妮·凯瑟里克(住址不详)的朋友,那疯女人总说自己是格莱德夫人。对世界上其他人来说,劳拉·格莱德夫人已经死了;对拒不承认她的叔叔,她已经死了;对把她的财产转给她丈夫和姑妈的律师,她也已经死了。

但是对于玛丽安和我,她还活着!她身无分文,人也变了——她的美丽在消逝,头脑一片混乱——但她还活着,她那可怜的绘画教师要为她奋争,使她重新回到真实的生活中来。她终于属于我了——由我供养、呵护、保护,由我所爱。

10
The rescue

At the first opportunity we had, Marian told me everything that had happened to her and Laura. The hardest part for her was after she had returned to Limmeridge House.

'I was in despair, Walter,' she said. 'Mr Kyrle's investigation was finished, and had shown nothing, he said. Mr Fairlie was no help at all — I heard that he didn't even leave his room to go to the funeral! But he did show me a letter he'd received from Count Fosco, which contained news of Anne Catherick. The Count said that Anne Catherick had been found and put back in the asylum from which she had escaped. But because she hated Sir Percival and wanted to make trouble for him, she was now claiming that she was not Anne Catherick at all, but Lady Glyde. The Count warned Mr Fairlie that if she escaped again, she might try to annoy members of Lady Glyde's family.

'I wasn't well enough to do anything for about a month after returning to Limmeridge, but when I felt stronger, I decided to make some investigations myself. First, I planned to visit the asylum in London and talk to poor Anne Catherick, to find out why she was claiming to be Laura. I knew the address because you had given it to me, all those months ago.

'Well, Walter, you can guess what's coming, I'm sure. The director of the asylum, who seemed an honest person, told me that Anne Catherick had been brought back on 27th July. He was puzzled by some odd personal changes in her, but assumed they were caused by her mental illness. He then called a nurse to take me to Anne Catherick, who was walking in the gardens.

'Imagine the shock, Walter — seeing my dead sister walking towards me in that garden! We just ran into each other's arms, unable to say a word. How the nurse stared at us!'

'I think I know how you must have felt,' I said. 'I shall never forget in the churchyard at Limmeridge... But tell me, however did you get Laura out of the asylum?'

'Bribery, Walter. I didn't want to risk a legal battle and all the delay that would involve, so I persuaded the nurse that a terrible mistake had been made and she would be doing a good thing in helping Anne Catherick escape. And I offered her £400. The plan went smoothly, and by early afternoon the next day Laura and I were on the train to Cumberland.'

'And Laura?' I asked. 'What actually happened on the day she left Blackwater Park and came to London?'

Marian sighed. 'Oh, Walter, it's not at all clear. Poor Laura's mind is so confused now that her memory of events is very unreliable. She can't even remember the date she left Blackwater. All she has been able to tell me is this. The Count met her at the station, and said that I was still in London and that he would take her to see me at once. She doesn't remember where the cab went, but it was clearly not to his house in St John's Wood. She was taken to a house in a narrow street, where people came and went, asking her questions she didn't understand. At this point the Count told her I was now very ill; she was so frightened by this news she nearly fainted. Someone then gave her a glass of water, which she said tasted odd — and after that she lost consciousness.'

'Poor, poor Laura,' I murmured.

'She woke up,' Marian continued, 'in the asylum, unable to leave, unable to make contact with the outside world. She was called by Anne Catherick's name and found she was wearing clothes with Anne Catherick's name on them. She was told Lady Glyde was dead and buried, and that she was Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick... Day in, day out, from 27th July to 15th October, she was made to feel that she was mad. It's hardly surprising her mind is so confused now.'

'And what happened at Limmeridge?' I asked.

Marian turned her face away. 'I can't bear to think about it,' she said. 'The worst part was taking Laura into Mr Fairlie's room. He looked straight into Laura's face and said, "My niece is buried in Limmeridge churchyard. I don't recognize this woman. Remove her from my house before I call on the law to protect me." Even the servants were doubtful about her identity, because she was so much changed and so confused by her experiences. Perhaps people would have been persuaded if we'd stayed longer, but I didn't dare risk it. At any minute the people from the asylum might come looking for us, so I decided to return to London at once and hide. Then, as we were passing the churchyard, Laura insisted on a last look at her mother's grave. And... well, that moment changed our three lives.'

'I think God was guiding Laura's footsteps,' I said.

How well I remember that day — that moment when Laura laid her poor head innocently and trustingly on my shoulder, and said, 'They have tried to make me forget everything, Walter, but I remember Marian, and I remember you.'

*  *  *

The plot against Laura was now clear. Anne Catherick had been taken into Count Fosco's house as Lady Glyde, and Lady Glyde had taken the dead woman's place in the asylum. It was also clear that the three of us could expect no mercy from Count Fosco and Sir Percival, who between them had gained £30,000 from the plot. They would do everything in their power to prevent their crime being discovered, and would hunt for their victim to separate her from her only friends — Marian and myself. This is why I had chosen a poor and crowded part of London to live in. It is easier to hide in a place where people are always coming and going.

Our life quickly took on a regular pattern — work, watching out for our enemies, and care of Laura, whom we surrounded with a gentle, protective love, helping her slowly but steadily to recover her balance of mind and her self-confidence.

Meanwhile, Marian and I began the battle. We studied the statements that Mr Kyrle had taken from witnesses — the doctor, and the servants and cook in Count Fosco's house. I obtained a copy of Lady Glyde's death certificate, and Marian wrote to Mrs Michelson, who replied, saying that she could not remember the exact date of Laura's departure from Blackwater Park. Nor could she remember when the letter announcing Laura's death, which was undated, had arrived from Madame Fosco.

I also arranged to visit Mr Kyrle, to ask for his help. After listening to my long explanation, the lawyer shook his head.

'My legal opinion, Mr Hartright, is that you won't win this case in a court of law. I accept, of course, that the identity of Lady Glyde as a living person is a proved fact to Miss Halcombe and yourself. But there is no evidence. If you could prove that the date on the death certificate was earlier than the date of Lady Glyde's journey to London, then you might have a case.'

As I left, he gave me a letter that had been delivered to him for Marian, and told me, in answer to my question, that Sir Percival Glyde had returned to London.

Outside in the street I soon noticed two men following me, and realized too late that the Count's spies must have been watching the lawyer's office, in the hope that Marian or I would go there. I went home by a very long route and managed to lose them, but it was a warning to me to be more careful.

Marian was very worried when I told her about the two men. Then I gave her the letter. She recognized the writing instantly.

'It's from Count Fosco.'


Dear and admirable woman, do not be afraid! Stay hidden, with your gentle companion, and nothing will happen to you. Challenge nothing, threaten nobody. Do not, I beg you, force me into action. If Mr Hartright returns to England, do not speak to him. If he crosses my path, he is a Lost man. F.


'Walter!' Marian said, her eyes flashing with anger. 'If ever the Count and Sir Percival are at your mercy and you must spare one of them, don't let it be the Count.'

'I'll keep this letter to remind me when the time comes,' I said. 'But tomorrow I will go to Blackwater, to try and find out the date of Laura's journey to London. It's the one weak point in their plot.'

'You mean that perhaps Laura did not leave for London until after the date on the death certificate?'

'Exactly. I think she left on 26th July. The Director of the asylum said she was taken there on the 27th. I doubt if they could have kept her drugged more than one night. We know from Mrs Michelson that Sir Percival left on the same day as Laura. I'll ask everyone in the village if they remember when he left.'

'And if that fails?'

'If that fails, Marian, I'll force a confession from Sir Percival. We have one weapon against him — his secret. Anne Catherick said that if his secret was known, it would ruin him. I intend to find out that secret. The woman in white, though dead in her grave, is still with us and is showing us the way!'


bribery n. persuading a person to act in one's favor by a gift of money or services 贿赂

unreliable adj. not liable 不可靠的

plot n. a conspiracy or secret plan esp. to achieve an unlawful end 阴谋

mercy n. kindness, pity, and willingness to forgive 仁慈

cross one's path meet sb by chance 与…偶然相遇

flash v. burst 闪烁

10.营救

我们刚一有机会交谈,玛丽安就把她和劳拉的遭遇从头到尾讲给我听。最令她难过的是回到利默里奇之后的经历。

“我太绝望了,沃尔特,”她说,“克尔先生的调查结束了,他说什么也没发现。费尔利先生一点儿忙也不帮——我听说他甚至都没离开他的房间去参加葬礼!不过他倒是把福斯科伯爵的信给了我,信里面有安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。伯爵说安妮·凯瑟里克已经找到了,被送回了原来的精神病院。但是,凯瑟里克因为痛恨珀西瓦尔爵士,想给他找麻烦,所以她现在自称不是安妮·凯瑟里克,而是格莱德夫人。伯爵提醒费尔利先生,假如她再逃出来,很可能要给格莱德夫人的家人添乱子。

“回来的头一个月,我身体虚弱,什么也干不了。后来身体恢复了,我决定亲自去调查。首先,我准备去伦敦的精神病院找可怜的安妮·凯瑟里克谈谈,弄清楚为什么她要自称是劳拉。我知道地址,是你几个月前给我的。

“噢,沃尔特,我相信你能猜到接下来发生的事情。精神病院的院长看上去是个正直的人,他告诉我,安妮·凯瑟里克是7月27日被送回来的。他对凯瑟里克身上的变化感到很困惑,但他推测是由于精神方面的疾病造成的。然后,他叫一名护士带我去见安妮·凯瑟里克,她正在花园散步。

“想象一下,当时我有多么震惊,沃尔特——我看到自己死去的妹妹在花园里朝我走来!我们跑向对方,紧紧地抱在一起,一句话也说不出来。护士不解地望着我们。”

“我很清楚你当时的心情,”我说,“我永远不会忘记在利默里奇教堂墓地……可是,你是怎么把劳拉救出精神病院的呢?”

“贿赂,沃尔特。我不想打官司,那样太冒险,也会耽误很长时间。所以,我对护士说,这里一定有严重的误会,如果她能帮助安妮·凯瑟里克逃走,就做了一件天大的好事。之后,我给了她400英镑。计划进行得很顺利,第二天刚过中午,我和劳拉就乘上了开往坎伯兰郡的火车。”

“那么,劳拉呢?”我问,“她离开布莱克沃特庄园到伦敦后,到底发生了什么?”

玛丽安叹了口气,“噢,沃尔特,现在还不清楚。可怜的劳拉思维很乱,她的记忆不可靠。她连离开布莱克沃特的日期都记不起来。她能告诉我的就是,伯爵在车站接她,告诉她我还在伦敦,他要带劳拉马上去见我。她不记得车往哪里走了,但是很明显不是去伯爵在圣约翰伍德的家。她被带进一条小巷里的一间房子,那里人来人往,问一些她听不懂的问题。这时,伯爵告诉她我病得很严重,她听了非常害怕,几乎昏了过去。接着有人给了她一杯水,她说水的味道很怪,之后她就失去了知觉。”

“可怜的劳拉。”我低声自语着。

“她醒来以后,”玛丽安接着说,“发现自己在精神病院里,既不能离开,也无法同外界接触。别人叫她安妮·凯瑟里克,她发现自己穿着有安妮·凯瑟里克名字的衣服。别人告诉她格莱德夫人已经死了,被安葬了,她就是安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克……一天又一天,从7月27日到10月15日,他们强迫她认为自己疯了。难怪现在她思维混乱。”

“在利默里奇发生了什么?”我问道。

玛丽安把头转向一侧。“我简直不忍心想在那儿发生的事情。”她回答,“最糟的就是我带劳拉走进费尔利先生的房间后,他紧盯着劳拉的脸说:‘我侄女已经埋在利默里奇教堂墓地了。我不认识这个女人。赶快带她出去,不然我要用法律来保护自己了。’仆人们也对劳拉的身份很怀疑,因为她变化太大了,她的经历也让她思绪异常混乱。也许我们逗留的时间长一些,大家会被说服,但是我不想冒这个险,因为精神病院的人随时都会来找我们,所以我决定马上回伦敦躲起来。当我们经过教堂的时候,劳拉坚持要最后再看一眼她母亲的坟墓。后来……嗯,那一刻改变了我们三个人的生活。”

“我想是上帝在引导着劳拉的脚步。”我说。

我清楚地记得那天——可怜的劳拉将头依偎在我的肩头,充满了纯洁与信任。她说:“他们想叫我忘掉一切,沃尔特,但我还记得玛丽安,我还记得。”

*  *  *

针对劳拉的阴谋现在已经清楚了。安妮·凯瑟里克被当作格莱德夫人带进了福斯科伯爵的家里,格莱德夫人在精神病院里取代了那个已经死了的女人的位置。还有一点也很明显,福斯科伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士是不会放过我们三个的。他们两人从这个阴谋中得到30,000英镑。他们会尽一切可能不让他们的罪行败露,也会极力追寻他们所陷害的人,并把她同她的朋友们——玛丽安和我——分开。这就是为什么我选择伦敦一处既贫穷又拥挤的地方住下来,因为在一个人来人往的地方比较容易躲藏。

我们的生活很快形成了一个较为固定的模式——工作,留意我们的敌人,照顾劳拉。我们细心地照顾她,保护她,帮助她慢慢地恢复正常的思维和自信心。

与此同时,玛丽安和我开始了紧张的调查。我们仔细研究克尔先生记录的证词——分别来自医生以及伯爵家的仆人和厨师。我弄到了一份格莱德夫人的死亡证明。玛丽安给米切尔森太太写信,米切尔森太太回信说记不清劳拉离开布莱克沃特庄园的确切日期了,也记不清福斯科夫人来信通知他们劳拉死讯的具体时间了,那封信没有注明日期。

我还安排与克尔先生见面,请求他的帮助。听我把前因后果一一讲完后,克尔先生摇了摇头。

“作为律师,哈特里特先生,我认为你不会赢得这场官司。当然我同意,你和哈尔库姆小姐可以证明格莱德夫人还活着,但是你没有证据。如果你能证明死亡证明上的时间比格莱德夫人去伦敦的时间,那你可能会赢这场官司。”

我要离开的时候,他交给我一封信,是要他转给玛丽安的。同时,他在回答我的提问时透露,珀西瓦尔爵士已经回到伦敦了。

在外面的街道上,我很快注意到有两个人在跟踪我。我这才意识到伯爵的人肯定一直在监视克尔先生的办公室,以防玛丽安和我会到那儿去。我绕远路回家,设法甩掉了跟踪我的人,但是这件事提醒我今后要更加小心。

我把两个人跟踪我的事告诉了玛丽安,她非常担心。我把那封信交给她,她马上就认出了写信人的笔迹。

“是福斯科伯爵写的。”


亲爱的、尊敬的女士,请不要害怕!继续同你温柔的伙伴藏好,你们就不会有事。不要试图做任何事情,不要给任何人带来威胁。我请求你们,不要强迫我采取行动。如果哈特里特先生回英国来,不要同他接触。假如他找我的麻烦,他就死定了。福斯科。


“沃尔特!”玛丽安眼里闪着愤怒的光,“如果伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士落到你的手里,而你又必须放过他们中的一个的话,一定不要放过伯爵。”

“我要留着这封信,让它到时候提醒我应该怎么做,”我说,“明天我要去一趟布莱克沃特,查一查劳拉去伦敦的日期。这是他们阴谋中的一个漏洞。”

“你是说劳拉可能是在死亡证明上的日期之后才去伦敦的?”

“没错。我想她是7月26日动身的。精神病院的院长说她是27日被送进去的。我怀疑他们是否能让劳拉昏迷超过一晚上的时间。米切尔森太太说,珀西瓦尔爵士是和劳拉同一天离开的。我要问村里的每一个人,是不是还记得珀西瓦尔爵士什么时候离开的。”

“如果这样不行呢?”

“如果不行的话,玛丽安,我就逼珀西瓦尔爵士认罪。我们用他的秘密对付他,安妮·凯瑟里克说如果他的秘密让人知道了,那他就完了。我想查出他的秘密来。那个白衣女人虽说已经死了,但是还同我们在一起,她会为我们引路的!”

11
The investigation

The story of my first enquiries in Hampshire is soon told. Not a single person in the village of Blackwater could remember exactly when Sir Percival Glyde had left. Even the gardener at the house could only say it was some time in the last ten days of July.

'So, on to the next plan,' I said to Marian back in London, 'which is to pursue the secret. I need to talk to Anne Catherick's mother, but first I must find out something about her from Mrs Clements, Anne's friend. But how do I find Mrs Clements?'

Marian had the answer to that. 'You remember the farm she and Anne stayed at near Limmeridge? We'll write to them — they might know Mrs Clements' address.'

We were lucky. The farmer's wife did know the address, and wrote back by return to tell us. It was in London, not far from our rooms, and the next morning I was knocking at the door.

Mrs Clements was anxious to know if I had brought her any news of Anne, and very sad to learn that I had not. However, she was willing to tell me everything she knew.

'After leaving Limmeridge, sir,' she said, 'Anne and I went to live in the northeast of England, and that's when Anne started to suffer from heart disease. She wasn't at all well, but she insisted on travelling to Hampshire, because she wanted to speak to Lady Glyde. So we went there and stayed in a village near Blackwater — not too close as Anne was so frightened of Sir Percival.

'Each time Anne went to the lake to try to speak to Lady Glyde, I followed her at a distance. But the long walks made her so exhausted that she became ill again, so finally I went to the lake in her place to meet Lady Glyde. She didn't come that day, but a very fat man came instead with a message from her. The message was that we should return to London immediately, as Sir Percival would certainly find us if we stayed longer. Lady Glyde was going to London herself very soon and if we sent her our address, she would contact us.'

'But she didn't, did she?' I said, thinking how cleverly Count Fosco had lied to this kind woman.

'No, sir. I found lodgings and sent the address to Lady Glyde, but after two weeks we'd still heard nothing. Then one day a lady called in a cab. She said she came from Lady Glyde, who was staying at a hotel and wanted to arrange an interview with Anne. I agreed to go with this lady to make the arrangement, leaving Anne alone in our lodgings. But it was a wicked plot, sir. On the way the lady stopped the cab, saying she just had to collect something from a shop and would I wait for a few minutes. She never came back, sir. I waited for some time, and then I hurried home — and found Anne gone. Just disappeared.'

I asked Mrs Clements to describe this 'lady', and it seemed clear from her description that it was Madame Fosco. So I now knew how the Count had got Anne Catherick to London and separated her from Mrs Clements.

'I never found out what happened to Anne,' Mrs Clements said sadly. 'I made enquiries. I even wrote to her mother, but she didn't know anything. I miss poor Anne so much. She was like a daughter to me, you see, sir.'

'And I'm sure you were a kind mother to her,' I said. 'A better mother than her own mother.'

'That wasn't difficult,' said Mrs Clements. 'Mrs Catherick is a hard woman. She seemed to hate the child, and was only too pleased when I offered to bring her up. Then one day she took Anne to Limmeridge to stay with a sister, and after that she kept Anne from me. I didn't see Anne again till she escaped from the asylum — with your help, sir. And then she was always talking about a secret her mother had which could ruin Sir Percival. But you know, sir, I don't think Anne really knew what this secret was. If she had known, I'm sure she would have told me.'

I had wondered about that myself, and now I tried to turn the conversation on to Mrs Catherick.

'Did you know Mrs Catherick before Anne was born?'

'Yes, for about four months. We were neighbours in Welmingham. Mr and Mrs Catherick had just got married, and Mr Catherick had a job as clerk at Welmingham church. Before that, Mrs Catherick had been a servant at a large house. She was a selfish, heartless woman, and treated her poor husband very badly. Before long, there was a lot of talk about her and a young gentleman, who was staying at a hotel nearby. And Mr Catherick told my husband that he'd found expensive presents, gold rings and suchlike, hidden in his wife's drawer.'

'And who was this gentleman?' I asked.

'You know him, sir. And so did my poor dear Anne.'

'Sir Percival Glyde?' My heart began to beat faster. Was I getting close to the secret?

'That's right. His father had recently died abroad, and Sir Percival had just arrived in the neighbourhood. People thought, you see, that maybe Mrs Catherick had known Sir Percival before, and had married Mr Catherick just to save her reputation, because of, well, you know... Anyway, one night Mr Catherick found his wife whispering with Sir Percival outside the vestry of the church. They had a fight, but Sir Percival beat him and Mr Catherick left the village, never to return again. And in spite of all the talk in the village, Mrs Catherick stayed. She said she was innocent and that no one would drive her away. But most people thought that the money she lived on came from Sir Percival.'

The secret was here somewhere. But where? That Sir Percival was Anne's father was hardly a secret since everyone already thought that. No, there was another mystery somewhere.

'And what did you think, Mrs Clements?'

'Well, sir, if you worked out time and place, it was obvious that Mr Catherick wasn't Anne's father. But Anne wasn't at all like Sir Percival; and nor was she like her mother.'

I wondered about the house where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Perhaps I would make some enquiries later.

'You've been very kind, Mrs Clements,' I said, 'answering all my questions. One last request. Will you tell me Mrs Catherick's address? I have to find out this secret, and only she can tell me.'

Mrs Clements gave me the address, but shook her head. 'Take care, sir. She's an awful woman. You don't know her as I do.'

*  *  *

Back at our rooms I announced my intention to Marian of going to Welmingham. She was very uneasy about the plan.

'Are you sure it's wise, Walter? Sir Percival is a violent man.'

'I'm more afraid for you and Laura,' I said, 'left alone in London, with the Count as your enemy.'

We arranged to write to each other every day; and if no letter came from her, I would take the first train back to London.

*  *  *

Three days later I was standing in Mrs Catherick's sitting room, face to face with a grey-haired woman, dressed in black silk. Her dark eyes looked straight at me with a hard, cold stare.

'You say you have come to speak to me about my daughter,' she said. 'Please say what you have to say.'

Her voice was as hard as the expression in her eyes. She pointed to a chair, and looked at me carefully as I sat down.

'You know,' I said, 'that your daughter is lost?'

'I know that perfectly well.'

'Don't you worry that she might not be just lost, but that she might have met with her death?'

'Yes. Have you come to tell me that she is dead?'

'I have.'

'Why?'

She asked that extraordinary question without the slightest change in her voice, face, or manner. I might have been talking about the death of a cat in the street.

'I thought Anne's mother might be interested in knowing if she was alive or dead.'

'Just so,' she said. 'But what is your interest in her, or in me? Have you no other reason for coming here?'

'Yes, I do,' I said. 'Your daughter's death has caused someone I love to be harmed — by a man called Sir Percival Glyde.'

She did not react at all at the mention of his name.

'I want to make him confess to his crime. You know certain things about him from the time when your husband was the church clerk. I want you to tell me about them.'

At last I saw the anger burning in her eyes.

'What do you know about those events?'

'Everything that Mrs Clements could tell me.'

'Mrs Clements is a foolish woman.' She bit back her anger, and her lips curled in an unpleasant little smile. 'Ah, I begin to understand. You want your revenge on Sir Percival Glyde, and you want my help. That's why you've come here. Well, you don't know me. I've spent years getting back my reputation in this village. Now everyone respects me. I won't help you.'

'If you're afraid of Sir Percival, that's quite understandable,' I said. 'He's a powerful man, and comes from a great family —'

To my amazement, she suddenly burst out laughing.

'From a great family! Yes, indeed! Especially from his mother's side,' she said with disgust.

Whatever did she mean by that, I wondered?

'The secret between you and Sir Percival was not guilty love,' I insisted. 'It was something else that brought you and him to those stolen meetings outside the vestry of the church.'

As I said the words 'vestry of the church', I saw a wave of terror pass across her face.

'Go!' she said. 'And never come back. Unless' — and she gave a slow, cruel smile — 'unless you bring news of his death.'

*  *  *

It was now late, and I made my way to the nearest hotel. There was much to think about. Why should mention of the church vestry cause terror? Why the disgust at Sir Percival's family, especially his mother? Was there something unusual about his parents' marriage? Perhaps the local marriage register was kept in the vestry of Welmingham church...

The next day I went to the church. I had been aware of being followed the previous evening, and now I caught sight of the same two men I had seen outside Mr Kyrle's office in London. It seemed that Sir Percival had expected me to visit Mrs Catherick, and was now expecting me to visit Welmingham church — proof, surely, that my investigation was going in the right direction.

I found the church clerk, who fetched his keys and took me to the vestry. It could only be entered from the outside of the church, and the clerk had great difficulty opening the lock, which was very old. Once inside, I asked to see the marriage register. It was kept in a cupboard which could easily be forced open.

'Is that a safe enough place to keep the register?' I said.

'Safe enough,' the clerk said. 'A copy is kept by a lawyer in the next village — Mr Wansborough's office in Knowlesbury.'

I worked backwards in the register from Sir Percival's year of birth and there, under September of the previous year, squashed into a small space at the bottom of the page, was the record of the marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster of Knowlesbury. Just the usual information. Nothing apparently peculiar about Sir Percival's mother. The secret seemed further away than ever.

But on to Knowlesbury, and Mr Wansborough's office — a five-mile walk, but possible to get there and back by the end of the day. It was worth checking the copy of the register, and perhaps the lawyer would know something that might be useful.


pursue v. continue to investigate 继续调查

lodgings n. rooms rented for lodging in 租用的房子

bring up raise 抚养

heartless adj. unfeeling, pitiless 无情的

vestry n. a room or building attached to a church for keeping vestments in 教堂的法衣室

react v. undergo a change or show behaviour due to some influence 反应

bite back restrain 克制

burst out suddenly begin 突然做……

disgust n. strong aversion 不屑

make one's way to go to 到……去

catch sight of see, find 看到

11.调查

下面是我在汉普郡初步调查的情况。布莱克沃特村没有一个人记得珀西瓦尔爵士离开的确切时间。园丁也仅仅记得大概是7月下旬。

“那么,开始下一步行动吧,”回到伦敦我对玛丽安说,“查出那个秘密来。我需要找到安妮·凯瑟里克的母亲,但我必须首先找到安妮的朋友克莱门茨太太,从她那里了解一些情况。可怎么才能找到克莱门茨太太?”

玛丽安想出了办法:“还记得克莱门茨太太和安妮在利默里奇附近住过的农场吗?我们给他们写信,也许他们知道克莱门茨太太的地址。”

我们很幸运,农场主的妻子真的知道地址,她回信告诉了我们。她就住在伦敦,离我们住的地方不远。第二天上午,我就找到了那个地方,敲响了房门。

克莱门茨太太急切地想知道我是否带来了安妮的消息,当我告诉她没有的时候,她非常难过。不过,她愿意把她知道的一切都告诉我。

“离开利默里奇以后,先生,”她对我说,“安妮和我去了英国东北部,这个时候安妮得了心脏病。她身体很不好,但她坚持到汉普郡去见格莱德夫人。所以我们就去了那儿,住在布莱克沃特附近的一个村子里——那地方离布莱克沃特不是很近,因为安妮非常害怕珀西瓦尔爵士。

“每一次安妮到湖边去见格莱德夫人,我都在远处跟着她。但是走那么远的路让她非常疲劳,结果她又病了。最后我代替她到湖边去见格莱德夫人。那天格莱德夫人没有来,来的是一个很胖的男人,他捎来了格莱德夫人的口信,让我们赶快回伦敦,因为如果在这里呆久了,珀西瓦尔爵士肯定会发现我们。格莱德夫人自己很快也会到伦敦去,如果我们把地址给她,她会跟我们联系。”

“但是她没跟你们联系,对吗?”我问,心想伯爵对这个善良的女人说的谎真是高明啊。

“没错,先生。我找到了住处,把地址寄给了格莱德夫人,可是两个星期过去了,我们没收到任何回音。后来,有一天一位夫人乘马车到这里来。她说她从格莱德夫人那儿来,格莱德夫人住在一家旅店,想安排同安妮见面。我答应同那位夫人去安排见面的事,把安妮一个人留在住处。可这是个恶毒的阴谋,先生。走到半路,那位夫人说要去商店取点儿东西,让我等几分钟。她去了就再没回来,先生。我等了好一阵子,然后赶忙回家——回来后却发现安妮不见了。就这么消失了。”

我让克莱门茨太太描述一下那位“夫人”的样子,根据她的描述,那人很显然是福斯科夫人。现在我明白伯爵是怎么把安妮·凯瑟里克弄到伦敦,又怎么把她和克莱门茨太太分开的了。

“我不知道安妮到底出了什么事,”克莱门茨太太伤心地说,“我调查过,甚至给她母亲写过信,但是她什么也不知道。我现在非常想念可怜的安妮。你知道,她就像我的女儿一样,先生。”

“我相信你是她的好母亲,”我说,“比她的亲生母亲还要亲。”

“那倒没什么难的,”克莱门茨太太说,“凯瑟里克太太是一个铁石心肠的女人。她好像仇视这个孩子,我提出抚养这孩子时,她非常高兴。后来有一天她把安妮带到利默里奇同她的妹妹住在一起。再后来,她就不让我见安妮了。安妮从精神病院逃出来之前,我就再没见到过她。她逃出来还是你帮的忙呢,先生。从那以后,她—直说她母亲知道一个秘密,那秘密会毁了珀西瓦尔爵士。但是,先生,我觉得安妮并不真的知道那个秘密。如果她真的知道,我相信她早就告诉我了。”

我自己也想过这个问题。但是,现在我努力把话题转向凯瑟里克太太。

“安妮出生前,你就认识凯瑟里克太太吗?”

“认识,大概有四个月的时间。我们在韦明翰是邻居。当时凯瑟里克夫妇刚刚结婚,凯瑟里克先生在韦明翰教堂当职员。结婚前,凯瑟里克太太在一个大户人家当仆人。她是一个自私、狠心的女人,对她可怜的丈夫非常不好。不久,关于她和住在附近旅店的一个年轻人有了很多风言风语。凯瑟里克先生对我丈夫说,他发现他妻子的抽屉里藏着许多贵重礼物,金戒指什么的。”

“那个年轻人是谁?”我问。

“你认识他,先生。我可怜的安妮也认识他。”

“珀西瓦尔爵士?”我的心跳开始加速。我是不是接近那个秘密了?

“就是他。他父亲那时在国外去世,珀西瓦尔爵士刚刚到这里来。大家都说很可能凯瑟里克太太早就认识珀西瓦尔爵士,她和凯瑟里克先生结婚就是想挽救自己的名声,因为,嗯,你知道……不管怎样,一天晚上,凯瑟里克先生看到他妻子和珀西瓦尔爵士在教堂的法衣室外窃窃私语。他们打了起来。珀西瓦尔爵士打了他。之后,凯瑟里克先生就离开了那个村子,再也没回来。尽管村子里流言满天飞,凯瑟里克太太还是一直住在那里。”她说自己是清白的,谁也赶不走她。不过大多数人都认为她是靠珀西瓦尔爵士的钱维持生活的。”

秘密就在这里。可是到底是什么呢?珀西瓦尔爵士是安妮的父亲,这已经不是什么秘密了,大家早就这么想了。不对,这里一定还有隐情。

“那你怎么看,克莱门茨太太?”

“嗯,如果从时间和地点来看,很明显凯瑟里克先生不是安妮的父亲。但是,安妮一点儿也不像珀西瓦尔爵士,也不像她母亲。”

我想到凯瑟里克太太当仆人的那家,也许什么时候我可以到那儿调查一下。

“真是太谢谢了,克莱门茨太太,”我说,“你回答了我那么多问题。最后我还有个请求,你能告诉我凯瑟里克太太的地址吗?我必须查清楚这个秘密,只有她可以告诉我。”

克莱门茨太太把地址给了我,但是摇了摇头,“你要小心,先生。她是一个很可怕的女人,你没有我了解她。”

*  *  *

回到住处,我把要去韦明翰的想法告诉了玛丽安,她非常担优。

“你觉得这样好吗,沃尔特?珀西瓦尔爵士是个心狠手辣的人。”

“我更担心的是你和劳拉,”我说,“就你们两个留在伦敦,还要对付伯爵。”

我们商量好每天都互相写信,如果没有收到玛丽安的来信,我就搭乘最早的一班火车回伦敦来。

*  *  *

三天后,我已经站在凯瑟里克太太的客厅里了。我面前是一个头发灰白的女人,穿着黑色绸衣。她的一双黑眼睛冷冷地盯着我。

“你说你来跟我谈我女儿的事,”她开口说,“有什么话就请讲吧。”

她的声音像她的眼神一样冷。她指了指一把椅子,我坐下以后,她开始仔细地打量我。

“你知道,”我说,“你女儿失踪了吗?”

“我非常清楚。”

“难道你不担心她可能不光是失踪了,有可能她已经死了?”

“我想过。那你是来告诉我,她已经死了?”

“是的。”

“为什么?”

提出这样荒谬的问题,她的声音、表情和举止居然没有任何变化,就好像我刚才谈的是街上死了一只猫。

“我原以为安妮的母亲会关心她的生死。”

“就为了这个啊,”她说,“但是你为什么对她或我感兴趣呢?你到这里来没有其他原因?”

“有,”我回答,“你女儿的死使我所爱的人受到了伤害——是一个叫珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士的人干的。”

我提到了珀西瓦尔的名字,她一点儿反应都没有。

“我要让他承认他所犯下的罪行,你丈夫在教堂当职员的时候,你就知道了他的一些事,我希望你把所知道的告诉我。”

我终于在她眼里看到了愤怒的目光。

“你是怎么知道这些事的?”

“克莱门茨太太把她知道的都告诉我了。”

“克莱门茨太太是个愚蠢的女人。”她压下怒火,双唇勾起一丝恶意的微笑。“呵,我开始懂了。要向珀西瓦尔爵士报仇,需要帮忙。这就是你来这里的原因。你不了解我。我在这个村子住了这么多年,才挽回我的名誉。现在大家都很尊敬我,我不会帮你的。”

“如果你害怕珀西瓦尔爵士,那是可以理解的,”我说,“他是个有权势的人,出身名门——”

令我吃惊的是,她突然大笑起来。

“出身名门!是,没错!尤其是他母亲那一边。”她不屑地说。

她这话是什么意思?我不明白。

“你和他之间的秘密不是什么婚外情,”我接着说,“是别的事情使得你们在教堂的法衣室外秘密见面。”

在提到“教堂的法衣室”时,我注意到她的脸上掠过一阵恐惧。

“滚出去!”她大声喊着,“再也不要回来。除非”——她脸上慢慢露出残忍的笑意——“除非你来告诉我他死了。”

*  *  *

天色已晚,我朝最近的旅店走去。有许多问题需要思考。为什么提到教堂的法衣室她就害怕了?为什么她瞧不起珀西瓦尔爵士的家庭,特别是他的母亲?难道他父母的婚姻有什么特别的地方?也许当地的婚姻登记记录就存放在韦明翰教堂的法衣室……

第二天我去了教堂。我已经注意到前一天晚上有人跟踪我,这会儿我又看到在伦敦克尔先生办公室外见到的那两个人在跟着我。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士已经料到我要来见凯瑟里克太太,现在又料到我来韦明翰教堂——这些恰好证明我的调查方向是正确的。

我找到了教堂职员,他找来钥匙,带我来到教堂的法衣室。法衣室只能从教堂外面进去,职员费了好大劲儿才打开那把旧锁。进去以后,我说要看看婚姻登记记录。那些记录放在一个柜子里,柜子的门很容易被撬开。

“婚姻登记记录放在这里安全吗?”我问。

“很安全,”职员回答,“另一个副本存放在邻村的律师那里,就是万斯伯勒先生的办公室,在诺雷斯伯里。”

我从珀西瓦尔爵士出生那年的记录开始往前面查,在前一年的9月,有一页在靠下的角落里记着费利克斯·格莱德爵士和诺雷斯伯里的塞西莉亚结婚。只是非常一般的记录,看不出珀西瓦尔爵士的母亲有什么特殊的地方。秘密好像比以前离我更远了。

接下来,我奔赴诺雷斯伯里万斯伯勒先生的办公室——大约有5英里的路程,但是在天黑前赶回来还是可能的。很有必要查看一下记录的副本,也许律师会知道一些有用的信息。

12
The secret

Sir Percival's spies attacked me on the road to Knowlesbury. One of them came up beside me, and bumped into me with his shoulder. I pushed him away, hard, and he immediately shouted for help. The other man ran up and the two of them held me between them. The first man accused me of attacking him, and they said they would take me to the police station in the town.

What could I do? I couldn't fight both of them and hope to get away, so I had to go with them.

At the police station the first man accused me of a violent attack, and the second man said he was a witness. I was locked up until the next magistrate's court, which was three days away. I could be released on bail, I was told, but how could I, a total stranger in the town, find a responsible person willing to pay money for my temporary freedom? The whole plan was now clear — to get me out of the way for three days, while Sir Percival did whatever was necessary to prevent his secret being discovered.

At first I was too angry to think clearly. Then I remembered Mr Dawson, the doctor. I had been to his house on my previous visit to Blackwater, so I knew his address. I wrote him a letter, explaining what had happened and begging for his help, and then asked for a messenger to deliver it. Two hours later the good doctor appeared, paid the required money and I was set free.

There was no time to lose. The news of my being free would doubtless reach Sir Percival within hours. I hurried to the lawyer's office, where I asked if I could see the copy of the Welmingham marriage register. Mr Wansborough was a pleasant man and agreed to show me the copy. In fact, he was quite amused. No one had asked to see it since his father (now dead) had locked it away in the office more than twenty years before.

As I opened the register, my hands trembled. I turned the pages to the year and month. I found the names I remembered just before, and just after, the marriage of Sir Percival's parents. And between these entries, at the bottom of the page...?

Nothing! The marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster was not there! I looked again, to be sure. No, nothing. Not a doubt about it. Sir Percival must have seen the space in the Welmingham register and written in the marriage himself.

I had never once suspected this. He was not Sir Percival Glyde at all! His parents had not been married, so he had no right to the inheritance of Blackwater Park, no right to the rank of Baronet, no right even to the name of Glyde! This was his secret — and it was now mine to use against him!

The copy of the register would be safe enough in the lawyer's office, but I decided to go back to Welmingham and make a copy of the false record from the church register. It was dark now and I ran all the way to the church clerk's house. I knocked on his door, but when he appeared, he looked suspicious and confused.

'Where are the keys?' he asked. 'Have you taken them?'

'What keys do you mean?' I said. 'I've just this minute arrived from Knowlesbury.'

'The keys of the vestry,' he said. 'The keys are gone! Someone's broken in and taken the keys.'

'Get a light,' I said, 'and let's go to the vestry. Quick!'

We ran to the church. On the path we passed a man who looked at us with frightened eyes. He seemed to be a servant of some kind. We did not stop to question him, but ran on.

As we came in sight of the vestry, I saw a high window brilliantly lit from within. There was a strange smell on the night air, a sound of cracking wood, and the light grew brighter and brighter. I ran to the door and put my hand on it. The vestry was on fire!

I heard the key working violently in the lock — I heard a man's voice behind the door, raised in terror, screaming for help.

'Oh, my God!' said the servant, who had followed us, 'it's Sir Percival!'

'God help him!' said the clerk. 'He's damaged the lock.'

*  *  *

At that moment I forget the man's crimes and see only the horror of his situation. Several people are now running towards the church and I call to them to help me break down the door. We look desperately for something to use, and at last someone finds a long heavy piece of wood.

By now the flames are shooting up out of the window, and the screams have stopped. We get the wood into position and run at the door with it. Again, and again! At last the door crashes down, but a wave of heat hits our faces and drives us back — and in the room we see nothing but a sheet of living fire.

*  *  *

The church itself was saved as the fire engine arrived soon afterwards and managed to put out the fire before it spread. They carried out the body of Sir Percival Glyde and laid it on the wet ground. I looked down on his dead face and this was how, for the first and last time, I saw him.

He must have heard that I was free and on my way back to Welmingham, so he hurried to the church, stealing the keys and locking himself in to prevent anyone coming in and finding him. All he could do was tear the page out of the register and destroy it. If the false record no longer existed, I could produce no evidence to threaten him with. He must have dropped his lamp by accident, which started the fire. Then in his urgency to get out, the lock had become damaged and the key unmoveable.

I could not leave the town. There would be a legal enquiry into the accident the next day, which I had to attend, and in any case I had to report back to the police station in Knowlesbury. I returned to the hotel and wrote to Marian, telling her everything that had happened and warning her to keep the news from Laura for the moment. With Sir Percival's death, my hopes of establishing Laura's identity had also died, and I could see no way forward at present.

The next day an envelope with my name on was delivered to the hotel. The letter inside was neither dated nor signed, but before I had read the first sentence, I knew who had written it — Mrs Catherick.


Sir — I thought you were my enemy. Now that he is dead, because of you, I consider you my friend. To thank you for what you have done, I will now tell you the things you wanted to know about my private life.

Twenty-three years ago I was a beautiful young woman living in Welmingham, married to a fool of a husband. I also knew a gentleman — I shall not call him by his name. Why should I? It was not his own. I was born with expensive tastes. This man gave me expensive presents. Naturally he wanted something in return — all men do. And what did he want? Just a little thing. The key to the church vestry, when my husband's back was turned. I liked my presents, so I got him the key. I watched him in the vestry without his knowing, and saw what he was doing. I did not know then how serious a crime it was. I said I would not tell anyone about the marriage he had added to the register if he told me about his private life. He agreed — why, you will see in a moment.

He said that he only found out that his parents were not married after his mother's death. His father confessed to it and promised to do what he could for his son. But he died having done nothing. The son came to England and took possession of the property. There was no one to say he could not. In fact, the right person to claim the property was a distant relation away at sea. However, to borrow money on the property, he needed a certificate of his parents' marriage. This was a problem — a problem which brought him to Welmingham.

As his parents had mostly lived abroad and had had no social life in England, who was to say (the priest being dead) that a private marriage had not taken place at Welmingham church? His plan was to tear out a page from the marriage register in the year before his birth and destroy it. Then he would tell his lawyers in London to get the necessary certificate, innocently referring them to the date on the page that was gone. At least no one could say that his parents were not married.

However, when he saw there was a small space at the bottom of the page in the right year, he changed his plan and took the opportunity to write in the marriage himself. It took him some time, though, to practise the handwriting and to mix the right colour of ink, so that it looked the same.

After my husband caught me talking secretly to him and after their fight together, I asked my fine gentleman to clear my name and to say there had been nothing between us. But he refused. He wanted everyone to believe something false, so that they would never suspect the truth. He then told me that the punishment for his crime, and anyone who helped him, was life in prison. He frightened me! If I spoke out, I was just as lost as he was. He then agreed to make me a yearly payment if I said nothing and stayed in Welmingham, where he could always find me and where there was no danger of my making friends and talking. This was hard, but I accepted.

Many years later, when my daughter was with me at home, I received a letter from him which made me very angry. I lost control of myself and said, in her presence, that 'I could destroy him if I let out his secret'. Then one day he came to our house and called her a fool. Immediately she shouted, 'Ask for my pardon, now, or I'll let out your secret and destroy your life. 'My own words! He went white. Then he swore at us. It ended, as you know, by his shutting her up in an asylum. I tried to tell him she knew nothing. But he did not believe me. My daughter knew that she had frightened him and that he was responsible for shutting her up because he believed she knew his secret. That's why she hated him. But she never to her dying day knew what his secret actually was.

I will end by saying that you insult me if you think my husband was not my daughter's father. Please do not ask further questions about that. To protect myself, I mention no names in this letter, nor do I sign it.


magistrate n. an official conducting a court for minor cases 法官

bail n. money left with a court of law to prove that a prisoner will return when their trial starts 保释金

entry n. an item 条目

brilliantly adv. very brightly 非常亮

produce v. bring forward for consideration or inspection 拿出

12.秘密

在去往诺雷斯伯里的路上,珀西瓦尔爵士的人向我发起了攻击。其中一个走到我旁边,用肩膀撞我。我用力把他推开,他马上大喊起来。另一个人跑过来,他们两个把我夹在了中间。第一个人指责我打他,他们说要把我带到镇上的警察局去。

我能怎么办呢?我没办法打倒他们两个再逃走,现在只得跟他们走了。

到了警察局,第一个人说我打他,另一个人说他是证人。我被关了起来,等着三天后法官开庭审理。他们告诉我可以保释,可是我在这里一个人也不认识,怎么可能找到一个愿意负责的人出钱让我获得暂时的自由呢?他们的整个计划很清楚——让我消失三天,珀西瓦尔爵士就利用这段时间尽一切可能保证他的秘密不被发现。

刚开始,我非常气愤,头脑中一片混乱。后来我想起了道森先生,那位医生。上一次我去布莱克沃特的时候到过他家,所以我知道他的地址。我给他写了封信,告诉他出了什么事,请求他来帮我,然后找了一个送信的帮我把信送走。两个小时后,好心的医生来了,为我交了保释金,我自由了。

必须抓紧时间,因为我被释放的消息肯定几个小时之内就会传到珀西瓦尔爵士那里。我赶到律师的办公室,请求看一下韦明翰的结婚登记记录。万斯伯勒先生是个和气的人,他同意让我看副本。其实,应该说他很高兴,因为自从他父亲(现在已经去世了)20多年前把文件锁在办公室后,从未有人要求查看过。

我翻开记录副本的时候双手在颤抖。我找到了珀西瓦尔爵士父母结婚的年份和月份,以及在他们之前和之后结婚的男女方姓名记录。但是,在这些条目之间,在那一页的底下……?

什么也没有!费利克斯·格莱德爵士和塞西莉亚·埃尔斯特的婚姻根本就没有记录!为了保险起见,我又看了一遍。没有,什么也没有,毫无疑问。珀西瓦尔爵士可能在韦明翰的记录中看到了那个空白,然后自己填上了那条记录。

我从未怀疑到这一点。他根本就不是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士,他的父母没有结婚,他根本没有权利继承布莱克沃特庄园和爵位,甚至根本无权姓格莱德!这就是他的秘密——现在我要利用这个秘密来对付他!

婚姻登记的副本放在律师的办公室很安全,我决定返回韦明翰,复制一份教堂的假记录。天已经黑了,我一路跑到教堂职员的住处。我敲了门,职员出来的时候,脸上布满了疑虑。

“钥匙在哪儿?”他问我,“你把钥匙拿走了吗?”

“什么钥匙?”我说,“我刚从诺雷斯伯里过来。”

“法衣室的钥匙,”他说,“钥匙不见了!有人进来偷走了钥匙。”

“拿上灯,”我说,“我们去法衣室,快!”

我们向教堂跑去。路上碰见一个人,似乎是个仆人,他惊慌地看了看我们。我们没有停下来问他任何问题,而是继续向前跑。

当我们看到法衣室的时候,我发现从一个高处的窗户里发出很亮的光,夜晚的空气中有一股奇怪的味道,可以听到木头劈啪作响的声音,那光变得越来越亮。我跑到法衣室的门口,用手摸了摸门。法衣室起火了!

我听到钥匙在锁里使劲转动的声音——我听到门后有人害怕地高声喊救命。

“噢,上帝!”跟着我们跑过来的仆人说,“是珀西瓦尔爵士!”

“上帝啊,救救他!”职员说,“他把锁弄坏了。”

alt

*  *  *

这个时候,我忘记了这个人的罪恶,只想到他现在的危急处境。有几个人正朝教堂跑过来,我叫他们帮我把门弄开。我们到处找能弄开门的东西,最后有人找来一根很粗的长木头。

这时,火焰已经窜出了窗户,呼叫声已听不见了。我们抬着长木头,一次又一次朝门撞过去。最后门被撞倒了,热浪从屋里冲出来,使我们不得不往后退去——屋里除了一团火什么也看不见。

*  *  *

救火车很快赶到,没等火势蔓延就把火扑灭了,教堂本身没有受到破坏。人们把珀西瓦尔爵士的尸体抬了出来,放在潮湿的地上。我看了看他的脸,这是我第一次也是最后一次看到他。

他一定是听说我被放出来,而且正赶回韦明翰,所以急忙赶到教堂,偷了钥匙,把自己锁在屋子里,不让任何人进去发现他。他唯一能做的就是把那一页从登记簿上撕下来销毁。如果假记录没有了,我就拿不出证据来威胁他。他可能不小心把灯掉到地上,引起了大火。然后,他急着要出来,匆忙中弄坏了锁,钥匙转不动了。

我现在还不能离开这里。转天会有一个事故的法律调查,我必须参加。而且不管怎样,我还得向诺雷斯伯里的警察局报到。我回到旅店,写信给玛丽安,告诉她这里发生的事情,提醒她先不要把这个消息告诉劳拉。珀西瓦尔爵士死了,我证明劳拉身份的希望也不复存在,现在我不知下一步该怎么办。

第二天,一个写着我名字的信封被送到了旅店。里面的信既没有日期,也没有署名。但是还没看完第一句,我就知道是谁写的信了——凯瑟里克太太。

先生——我原以为你是我的敌人。现在因为你,他已经死了,我认为你是我的朋友。为感谢你的所作所为,我现在把你想知道的我的私事告诉你。

23年前,我是一个年轻漂亮的姑娘,住在韦明翰,嫁给了一位傻乎乎的丈夫。我还结识了一位绅士——我不会称呼他的名字。为什么要那样叫他?那不是他的名字。我生来就喜欢贵重的东西,这个人送给我许多贵重礼物,当然他是需要回报的——男人都是这样。这个男人要的是什么?很简单的一样东西。教堂法衣室的钥匙,当然要趁我丈夫不在的时候。我喜欢那些礼物,所以给他弄到了钥匙。我盯着他,看他在法衣室干什么,他并没发觉。当时我不知道那是多么严重的罪行。我跟他说,要是他告诉我他的私事,我不会告诉任何人他擅自增加结婚记录的事。他答应了——至于为什么,你往下看就明白了。

他说在他母亲死后,他才知道他的父母并没有结婚。他父亲承认了这件事,答应尽力为他儿子做些什么。可是他什么都没来得及做,就死去了。他的儿子来到英国继承了遗产。没人说他不能继承,实际上,真正应该继承遗产的是一个正在出海的远亲。然而,要想用那笔财产去借钱,他需要一份父母的结婚证明。这是个问题,为解决这个问题,他来到了韦明翰。

因为他父母大部分时间生活在国外,在英国没什么交际,所以谁会说(牧师已经死了)韦明翰教堂没举行过一场私下的婚礼呢?他的计划是把他出生前那一年的婚姻登记页撕下来销毁。然后,他就会告诉伦敦的律师们去取必要的证明文件,并假装不知情地把那个已经不存在的登记页上的日期告诉他们。至少谁也不会说他父母没结婚。

但是,他发现那年的登记页上靠下面有一点空白,于是改变了主意,趁机把他父母的婚姻写了进去。当然,他也颇费了些时间去模仿登记用的笔迹,还有配制合适的墨水颜色,让这条记录看起来跟其他的没有差别。

我丈夫看到我和他密谈,他们两个打了一架以后,我叫他帮我洗清名声,告诉别人我们之间什么也没发生,但是他拒绝了。他希望大家都相信并没有发生的事情,这样一来,人们就不会去想真相如何了。他还跟我说如果他的罪行败露,他以及帮过他的人都将被终生监禁。他让我害怕极了!如果我说出他的秘密,那我和他都完了。他答应每年支付我一笔钱,条件是我保持沉默,继续住在韦明翰,让他随时可以找到我,也免得我与人交朋友,然后乱讲话。虽说条件很苛刻,我还是答应了。

很多年以后,那时我女儿同我在一起,我收到他的一封信把我惹恼了。我无法控制自己,当着女儿的面说:“我把他的秘密说出去就能毁了他。”后来有一天,他来我家,管我女儿叫傻瓜,她一下子喊了起来:“赶快请求我原谅你,不然我就把你的秘密说出去,毁了你。”完全是我说过的话!他的脸一下子变白了。他向我们破口大骂。最后,你知道,他把她关进了精神病院。我试图告诉他,她什么也不知道。可是他不相信我。我女儿明白她使他害怕了,是他把她关进了精神病院,因为他认为她知道了他的秘密。这就是为什么她那么恨他。但是,她其实到死也不知道那秘密到底是什么。

最后我要说的是,如果你认为我丈夫不是我女儿的父亲,你就是污辱我。请不要多问了。为了保护我自己,信中没有提到任何名字,我也不会署名。

13
The threat

Mrs Catherick's extraordinary and shameless letter filled me with disgust. My interest in Sir Percival Glyde's crime was now at an end, but I decided to keep the letter in case it might help me find out who Anne's father really was.

Later in the morning I went to the legal enquiry into Sir Percival's death. I was only asked to say what had happened. I was not asked how I thought the keys had been taken, how the fire had been caused, or why Sir Percival had gone into the vestry. As no one could explain any of these things, the verdict at the end of the enquiry was 'death by accident'.

Afterwards, a gentleman who was also at the enquiry walked back to the hotel with me. He had heard from Sir Percival's lawyer that a distant relation abroad would now inherit Blackwater Park. This was obviously the person who should have inherited it twenty-three years before. If I made Sir Percival's crime public, it would be to no one's advantage now. If I kept the secret, the true character of the man who had cheated Laura into marrying him would remain hidden. And for her sake, I wished to keep it hidden.

I still could not leave Hampshire, as I had to report to the police station in Knowlesbury the next day. I spent another night at the hotel and in the morning went to the post office to collect the letter from Marian. As promised, we had written to each other every day, and Marian's letters had been full of cheerful news. This morning's letter was short, and terrified me.


Come back as soon as you can. We have had to move. Come to Gower's Walk, Fulham (number five). I will look out for you. Don't be alarmed about us, we are both safe and well. But come back. — Marian


What had happened? What dreadful thing had Count Fosco done while I was away? In spite of my anxiety, I had to wait. I paid my bill at the hotel and took a cab to Knowlesbury.

At the police station, as I expected, no one appeared to continue the action against me and I was allowed to go. Half an hour later I was on the train back to London.

I got to Gower's Walk in Fulham at about nine o'clock. Both Laura and Marian came to the door to let me in. Laura was much brighter and happier, full of plans for the future and for her drawing and painting. Marian's face was tired and anxious. I could see that she had spared Laura the knowledge of the terrible death in Welmingham and the true reason for moving to new lodgings. When Laura had left us and we could speak freely, I tried to give some expression to my feelings and told Marian how much I admired her for the courage and love she had shown.

She was too generous to listen to me, and turned the conversation to my worries.

'I'm so sorry for my letter — it must have alarmed you.'

'Yes, it did,' I admitted. 'Was I right in thinking that you moved because of a threat by Count Fosco?'

'Perfectly right,' she said. 'I saw him yesterday, and worse than that, Walter — I spoke to him.'

'Spoke to him? Did he come to the house?'

'He did. Yesterday, when I was passing the window, I saw him in the street. Then there was a knock on the door. I rushed out and there he was, dressed in black, with his smooth face and his deadly smile. I closed the door behind me so that Laura would not see or hear him.'

'What did he say?' I asked anxiously.

'He greeted me, then repeated the warning in his letter to me. He said he had not been able to prevent Sir Percival's violence towards you, and he had found out our address in order to protect his own interests. You were followed, Walter, on your return home after your first journey to Hampshire. He used this information only when he heard of Sir Percival's death, because he believed you would act against him next.'

'And he was right,' I said. 'What did he say about me?'

'He was very cool, very polite, and very threatening,' said Marian. 'He said, "Warn Mr Hartright! He has an intelligent and powerful man to deal with. Let him be content with what he has got. Say to him, if he attacks me, I will use all my power to destroy him. There is nothing I will not do. Dear lady, good morning." Then he just looked at me with his cold grey eyes, and walked away.

'I ran back inside, and told Laura we had to move. We needed a quieter neighbourhood with better air for the sake of her health. I said you'd wanted us to do that, and why didn't we do it now to surprise you when you got back. She liked that idea, and was quite happy to move. I found these lodgings through an old school friend. I did the right thing, didn't I, Walter?'

I answered her warmly and gratefully, as I really felt.

But the anxious look remained on her face, and I saw in her eyes her continuing fear of the Count's cleverness and energy.

'What do you think of his message, Walter? What do you plan to do next?'

'I decided weeks ago that Laura will be received in her uncle's house again,' I answered. 'And my decision remains the same. Count Fosco will answer for his crime to ME.'

Marian's eyes lit up. She said nothing, but I could see how strongly she supported this plan.

'I know the risks are great,' I said, 'but it must be done. I'm not foolish enough to try this before I'm well prepared. I can wait. Let him think his message has produced its effect. He will start to feel safe. Also, my position towards you and Laura ought to be a stronger one than it is now.'

'How can it be stronger?' she asked, surprised.

'Marian, I would like you to say to Laura, gently, that her husband is dead.'

'Oh, Walter, so soon? You have a reason for this, don't you?'

'Yes. I cannot speak to Laura yet. But one day, not too distant, I want to tell her that I love her.'

Marian looked at me for a time, then gave a sad, gentle smile. 'Yes, I understand. I think I owe it to her and to you, Walter, to tell her of her husband's death.'

The next day Laura knew that death had released her from her marriage, and her husband's name was never mentioned among us again.

*  *  *

Our life returned to its usual pattern, but I did not forget the Count. I discovered that he had rented his house in St John's Wood for another six months, so I was fairly sure he would still be in London, within my reach, when the time came to act.

We finally solved the puzzle of who Anne Catherick's father was. When I went again to see Mrs Clements and to tell her about Anne's death, she remembered where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Her employer had been a Mr Donthorne.

We wrote to Mr Donthorne, who replied with some very interesting information. Philip Fairlie, Laura's father, had been a great friend of his when they were young, and a frequent house guest. He was a handsome man and fond of female company. Mr Donthorne was fairly certain that Philip Fairlie had been staying at his house when Mrs Catherick was employed as a servant, in the year before Anne was born.

When Marian and I checked the dates; when we considered that Anne and Laura looked so alike; and when we took into account the fact that Laura looked very much like her father, we were in no doubt that here was the solution. Philip Fairlie was Anne's father, and so Anne was Laura's half-sister.

Now, at last, the woman in white, that strange sad shadow walking in the loneliness of the night, could rest in peace.

*  *  *

Four months passed. Laura grew stronger in body and in mind. She was almost her old self, and when we talked, it was as we used to talk at Limmeridge. If I touched her by accident, I felt my heart beating fast, and I saw the answering colour in her face.

In April, we went for a holiday at the seaside. While we were there I told Marian that when we returned to London, I was determined to force a confession from Count Fosco — to make him tell me the real date of Laura's journey to London.

'But if I am to challenge the Count, for Laura's safety, I think I should challenge him as her husband. Do you agree, Marian?'

'With every word,' she said. 'I parted you both once. Wait here, my brother, my best and dearest friend! Till Laura comes, and tells you what I have done now!'

She kissed my forehead and left the room. I waited by the window, staring out at the beach, seeing nothing, hardly able to breathe. The door opened, and Laura came in alone. When we parted at Limmeridge, she had come into the room slowly, in sorrow and hesitation. Now she ran to me, with the light of happiness shining in her face. She put her arms around me, and her sweet lips came to meet mine.

'My darling!' she whispered, 'May we say we love each other now? Oh, I am so happy at last!'

Ten days later we were even happier. We were married.


verdict n. a decision; a judgment 结论

spare somebody the knowledge of keeping somebody from knowing 不让某人知道……

deadly adj. horrible 可怕的

answer for be responsible 受到惩罚

fairly adv. to a noticeable degree 相当地

13.威胁

凯瑟里克太太奇怪而又不知羞耻的来信使我对她充满了鄙夷。现在,我对珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行已经没有兴趣了,但我还是决定留着这封信,也许它会帮我找出安妮的父亲究竟是谁。

上午晚些时候,我去参加珀西瓦尔爵士死亡的法律调查。他们只让我说说发生了什么,没有问我如何看待钥匙为什么会被拿走,火灾是怎么发生的,或者为什么珀西瓦尔爵士会进到法衣室去。没有人能够解释这些问题,所以调查的最终结论是“意外死亡”。

之后,一位也参加了调查的男子和我一起走回旅店。他从珀西瓦尔爵士的律师那里得知,一个国外的远亲现在要来继承布莱克沃特庄园。很明显,这就是23年前应该继承庄园的那个人。假如我把珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行公之于众,现在对谁都没有好处。假如我不把秘密说出去,这个欺骗劳拉与之结婚的人的真正人品就不会有人知道。但为了劳拉,我愿意保守这个秘密。

我还不能离开汉普郡,因为转天还要去诺雷斯伯里警察局。我在旅店又住了一晚。第二天一早,我去邮局取玛丽安的来信。我们按约定每天通信。玛丽安的来信一直都是好消息。今天早上的来信很短,但却令我害怕。


请尽快回来。我们不得不搬了家。到富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街(5号)来找我们。我也会留意等你。不必为我们担心,我们很安全。一定快回来。玛丽安


出了什么事?我不在的时候,福斯科伯爵又做了什么坏事?尽管非常担心,我还是得等。我付清了旅店的费用,叫了辆马车直奔诺雷斯伯里。

在警察局,不出我所料,没人来继续同我纠缠,我可以走了。半个小时后,我登上了返回伦敦的火车。

大约9点钟,我赶到了富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街。劳拉和玛丽安都到门口迎接我。劳拉的脸色比以前好多了,人也高兴多了,对将来和她的绘画有很多想法。玛丽安的脸上带着倦容和忧虑。看得出她没有把珀西瓦尔死在韦明翰的可怕消息和搬到新住处的真实原因告诉劳拉。劳拉走开以后,我们可以随便谈话了。我想告诉她我非常敬佩她的勇气和她对劳拉表现出的爱。

这位慷慨的姑娘没等我说完就把话题转到我的担忧上来了。

alt

“给你写那样的信,真是对不起——你一定很为我们担心吧。”

“是的,我的确很担心,”我说,“我猜你们搬家是由于福斯科伯爵的威胁,对吗?”

“一点儿不错,”她回答,“我昨天看见他了,更糟糕的是,沃尔特——我跟他说话了。”

“跟他说话了?他去你们的住处了?”

“是的。昨天,我从窗旁走过的时候,看见他在街上。过了一会儿,有人敲门。我马上跑过去开门,就是他,穿一身黑色衣服,光滑的脸上带着吓人的微笑。我关上了身后的门,这样劳拉就看不见他,也听不见他说话了。”

“他都说了什么?”我急切地问。

“他跟我打了招呼,然后再一次重复了他在信中对我的警告。他说他没能阻止珀西瓦尔爵士针对你的恶劣行为,他找到我们的住处是要保护他自己的利益。你第一次去汉普郡回来的时候就被跟踪了,沃尔特。他在听到珀西瓦尔爵士的死讯后才决定登门,因为他认为你下一个对付的目标就是他。”

“让他说对了,”我说,“他说我什么了?”

“他非常冷静而有礼,同时又非常具有威胁性,”玛丽安接着说,“他说,‘请警告哈特里特先生!他要对付的是一个有智慧、有权势的人。叫他对已经得到的东西知足吧。告诉他,如果他跟我对着干,我将不遗余力地干掉他。我会不择手段的。亲爱的小姐,再见。’然后,他用冷酷的灰眼睛看了看我,就走了。

“我赶忙跑进屋,跟劳拉说我们得搬家。为她的健康着想,我们需要一个更安静、空气更好的地方。我说你也希望我们搬家,为什么不现在就搬,等你回来给你一个惊喜呢。她喜欢这个主意,欢天喜地地同意了。我通过一个校友找到这个住处。我做得没错吧,沃尔特?”

我说她做得非常好,这是我的心里话。

但是,她脸上依然带着忧虑,从她的眼神里看得出,她还在害怕伯爵的精明和权势。

“沃尔特,你怎么看他的那些话?下一步你准备怎么做?”

“几星期前,我就决定让劳拉重新在她叔叔家得到应有的承认,”我回答,“现在我还是这样想的。我要让福斯科伯爵为他犯下的罪行付出代价。”

玛丽安的眼睛一亮,虽然没有说话,但是看得出她非常支持这个计划。

“我清楚这样做风险很大,”我说,“但这件事一定要做。我不会愚蠢到没做好准备就动手。我可以等。让他觉得他的话起了作用,认为已经平安无事了。另外,我跟你和劳拉的关系也该比现在更明确。”

“怎么个更明确法?”她吃惊地问。

“玛丽安,我希望你能心平气和地告诉劳拉,她丈夫已经死了。”

“噢,沃尔特,这么快就告诉她?你这样做是不是有什么原因?”

“是的,我现在还不能跟劳拉谈,但总有一天,不会太久,我会告诉她我爱她。”

玛丽安看了我一会儿,然后淡淡地、略带忧伤地笑了笑,“好吧,我明白。我想这是我欠你们的,沃尔特,我会把她丈夫的死讯告诉她。”

第二天,劳拉知道她丈夫死了,她也从这段婚姻中解脱了,那以后我们谁也没再提过她丈夫的名字。

*  *  *

我们的生活恢复了往常的模式,但是我没有忘记伯爵。我了解到他在圣约翰伍德的房子又续租了6个月,因此可以肯定,到了我采取行动的时候,他还会在伦敦,我还可以找到他。

我们终于弄清了安妮·凯瑟里克的父亲是谁。我又去见了克莱门茨太太,告诉她安妮已经死了。她记起凯瑟里克太太当仆人的地方。她的雇主姓多桑。

我们给多桑先生写信,他在回信中告诉我们一些非常有趣的信息。菲利普·费尔利,就是劳拉的父亲,年轻时和他是好友,也是他家里的常客。菲利普风流潇洒,喜欢女色。多桑先生非常肯定凯瑟里克太太在他家当仆人的那段时间,也就是安妮出生的前一年,菲利普·费尔利一直住在他家。

玛丽安和我算了算时间,我们想到安妮和劳拉如此地相像,想到劳拉如此地像她父亲,我们得到了非常肯定的答案。菲利普·费尔利是安妮的父亲,安妮和劳拉是同父异母的姐妹。

现在,那位白衣女人,那位在寂静深夜出现的古怪而哀伤的女人终于可以安息了。

*  *  *

四个月过去了,劳拉的身体渐渐强壮起来,头脑也慢慢清楚了。她几乎又是原来的她了。我们交谈的时候,感觉和当初在利默里奇谈话时一样。当我无意间碰到她的时候,我感到心跳在加速,而且我注意到她也脸红了。

4月,我们到海边度假。在那里,我告诉玛丽安,等回到伦敦,我一定要迫使福斯科伯爵说实话,让他说出劳拉回伦敦的真正日期。

“但是为了劳拉的安全,我想如果我挑战伯爵的话,最好以她丈夫的身份前去,你同意吗,玛丽安?”

“完全同意,”玛丽安说,“我曾让你们两个分开,你在这儿等我一下,我的好朋友!一会儿劳拉就过来,她会告诉你我这次是怎么做的,好吗?”

她吻了吻我的额头,走了出去。我在窗旁等着,眼睛望着海滩,却什么也看不到,我紧张得几乎喘不过气来。门开了,劳拉一个人走进来。我们在利默里奇分手的时候,她是慢慢地走进房间的,神情充满了痛苦和犹豫。这会儿,她跑向我,脸上闪耀着幸福的光芒。她张开手臂紧紧地拥抱我,用甜润的双唇吻着我。

“亲爱的!”她轻声说,“现在我们能对彼此说‘我爱你’了吧?啊,我终于得到幸福了!”

十天以后,我们的幸福又向前迈进了一步,我们结婚了。

14
The confession

A fortnight later, we returned to London, and I began to prepare for my battle with the Count. It was now early May and the rental agreement for his house ended in June. In my new happiness with Laura (to whom we never mentioned the Count's name), I was sometimes tempted to change my mind and to leave things as they were. But she still had dreams, terrible dreams that made her cry out in her sleep, and I knew I had to go on.

First, I tried to find out more about the Count. Marian told me that he had not been back to Italy for many years. Had he been obliged to leave Italy for political reasons, I wondered? But Marian also said that at Blackwater Park he had received official-looking letters with Italian stamps on, which would seem to contradict this idea. Perhaps he was a spy, I thought. That might explain why he had stayed in England so long after the successful completion of his plot. Who could I ask who might know something? Another Italian, perhaps — and I suddenly thought of my old friend, Professor Pesca.

Before I did that, I decided to have a look at the Count, as up to this time I had never once set eyes on him. So one morning I went to Forest Road, St John's Wood, and waited near his house. Eventually, he came out and I followed behind him as he walked towards the centre of London. Marian had prepared me for his enormous size and fashionable clothes, but not for the horrible freshness and cheerfulness and energy of the man.

Near Oxford Street he stopped to read a sign announcing an opera, and then went into the opera ticket office, which was nearby. I went over to read the sign. The opera was being performed that evening, and it seemed likely that the Count would be in the audience.

If I invite Pesca to the opera, I thought, I can point the Count out to him and find out if he knows him. So I bought two tickets myself, sent Pesca a note, and that evening called to take him with me to the opera.

The music had already started when we went in, and all the seats were filled. However, there was room to stand at the sides. I looked around and saw the Count sitting in a seat half-way down, so I placed myself exactly on a line with him, with Pesca standing at my side. When the first part finished, the audience, including the Count, rose to look about them.

When the Count was looking in our direction, I nudged Pesca with my elbow. 'You see that tall fat man? Do you know him?'

'No,' said Pesca. 'Is he famous? Why do you point him out?'

'Because I have a reason for wanting to know more about him. He's an Italian, and his name is Count Fosco. Do you know that name? Look — stand on this step so that you can see him better.'

A slim, fair-haired man, with a scar on his left cheek, was standing near us. I saw him look at Pesca, and then follow the direction of his eyes to the Count. Pesca repeated that he did not know him, and as he spoke, the Count looked our way again.

The eyes of the two Italians met.

In that second I was suddenly convinced that, while Pesca may not have known the Count, the Count certainly knew Pesca!

Not only knew him, but — more surprising still — feared him as well. The Count's face had frozen into a dreadful stillness, the cheeks as pale as death, the cold grey eyes staring in terror.

Nearby, the man with the scar also seemed to be watching with interest the effect that Pesca had had on the Count.

'How the fat man stares!' Pesca said, looking round at me. 'But I've never seen him before in my life.'

As Pesca looked away, the Count turned, moving quickly towards the back of the theatre, where the crowd was thickest. I caught Pesca's arm and, to his great surprise, hurried him with me after the Count. The slim man with the scar had apparently also decided to leave, and was already ahead of us. By the time Pesca and I reached the entrance, neither the Count nor the slim man was in sight.

'Pesca,' I said urgently, 'I must speak to you in private. May we go to your lodgings to talk?'

'What on earth is the matter?' cried Pesca.

I hurried him on without answering. The way the Count had left the theatre, his extraordinary anxiety to avoid Pesca, made me fear that he might go even further — and out of my reach.

In Pesca's lodgings, I explained everything as fast as I could, while Pesca stared at me in great confusion and amazement.

'He knows you — he's afraid of you. He left the theatre to escape you,' I said. 'There must be a reason, Pesca! Think of your own life before you came to England. You left Italy for political reasons. I don't ask what they were. But could that man's terror be connected with your past in some way?'

To my inexpressible surprise, these harmless words seemed to terrify Pesca. His face went white and he started to tremble.

'Walter!' he whispered. 'You don't know what you ask.'

I stared at him. 'Pesca, forgive me. I didn't mean to cause you pain. I spoke only because of what my wife has suffered from that man's cruel actions. You must forgive me.'

I rose to go. He stopped me before I reached the door.

'Wait,' he said. 'You saved my life once. You have a right to hear from me what you want to know, even though I could be killed for it. I only ask that, if you find the connection between my past and that man Fosco, you do not tell me.'

Then, his face still pale as the memories of the past crowded in on him, he told me the story.

'In my youth I belonged — and still belong — to a secret political society. Let's call it the Brotherhood, I can't tell you its real name. But I took too many risks and did something which put other members in danger. So I was ordered to go and live in England and to wait. I went — I have waited — I still wait. I could be called away tomorrow, or in ten years. I cannot know.

'The purpose of the Brotherhood is to fight for the rights of the people. There is a president in Italy, and presidents abroad. Each of these has his secretary. The presidents and secretaries know the members, but members don't know each other, until it's considered necessary. Every member of the Brotherhood is identified by a small round mark burnt into the skin, high up on the inside of their left arm.'

He rolled up his sleeve and showed me his own mark.

'If anyone betrays the Brotherhood,' he went on, 'he is a dead man. Another member, a distant stranger or a neighbour, will be ordered to kill him. No one can leave the society — ever.'

Pesca paused, then continued. 'In Italy I was chosen to be secretary. The members at that time were brought face to face with the president, and were also brought face to face with me. You understand me — I see it in your face. But tell me nothing, I beg you! Let me stay free of a responsibility which horrifies me.

'I do not know the man at the opera,' he said finally. 'If he knows me, he is so changed, or disguised, that I do not know him. Leave me now, Walter. I have said enough.'

'I thank you with all my heart, Pesca,' I said. 'You will never, never regret the trust you have placed in me.'

Walking home, my heart beat with excitement. Here at last, surely, was my weapon against the Count! I was convinced he was a member of the Brotherhood, had betrayed it, and believed that he had been recognized tonight. His life was now in danger. What else could explain his extreme terror at seeing Pesca?

And what would he do next? Leave London as fast as he could. If I went to his house and tried to stop him, he would not hesitate to kill me. To protect myself, I had to make his safety depend on mine. I hurried home and wrote this letter to Pesca:

The man at the opera, Fosco, is a member of your society and has betrayed it. Go instantly to his house at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. I am already dead. Use your power against him without delay.

I signed and dated the letter, and wrote on the envelope: Keep until nine o'clock tomorrow morning. If you do not hear from me before then, open the envelope and read the contents.

I then found a messenger, told him to deliver the letter and bring back a note from Professor Pesca to say he had received it. Twenty minutes later I had the note, and as I was leaving, Marian came to the door, looking anxious.

'It's tonight, isn't it?' she said. 'You're going to the Count.'

'Yes, it's the last chance, and the best.'

'Oh, Walter, not alone! Let me go with you. Don't go alone?'

'No, Marian. You must stay here and guard Laura for me. Then I will be easy in my mind when I face the Count.'

*  *  *

As I approached the Count's house, I passed the man with the scar on his cheek, whom I had noticed earlier at the opera. What was he doing here, I wondered?

I sent in my card, and I still do not know why the Count let me into his house at half past eleven at night. Was he just curious to see me? He would not have known that I was at the opera with Pesca, and I suppose he thought he had nothing to fear from me.

He was still in his evening suit, and there was a travelling case on the floor, with books, papers, and clothes all around him. My guess had been right.

'You come here on business, Mr Hartright?' he said, looking at me with curiosity. 'I cannot think what that might be.'

'You are obviously preparing for a journey,' I said. 'That is my business. I know why you are leaving London.'

'So you know why I am leaving London?' He went over to a table and opened a drawer.' Tell me the reason, if you please.'

'I can show you the reason,' I said. 'Roll up the sleeve on your left arm, and you will see it.'

His cold grey eyes stared into mine. There was a long heartbeat of silence. I was as certain as if I had seen it that he had a gun hidden in the drawer, and that my life hung by a thread.

'Wait a little,' I said. 'Before you act, I advise you to read this note.' Moving slowly and carefully, I passed him Pesca's note.

He read the lines aloud.

Your letter is received. If I don't hear from you before nine o'clock, I will open the envelope when the clock strikes.

Another man might have needed an explanation, but not the Count. His expression changed, and he closed the drawer.

'You are cleverer than I thought,' he said. 'I cannot leave before nine as I have to wait for a passport to be delivered. Your information may be true or may be false — where did you get it?'

'I refuse to tell you.'

'And that unsigned note you showed me — who wrote it?'

'A man whom you have every reason to fear.'

A pause. 'What do you want of me, Mr Hartright? Is it to do with a lady, perhaps?'

'Yes, my wife,' I answered.

He looked at me in real amazement, and I saw at once that he no longer considered me a dangerous man. He folded his arms and listened to me with a cold smile.

'You are guilty of a wicked crime,' I went on. 'But you can keep the money. All I want is a signed confession of the plot and a proof of the date my wife travelled to London.'

'Good!' he said. 'Those are your conditions; here are mine. One, Madame Fosco and I leave the house when we please and you do not try to stop us. Two, you wait here until my agent comes early tomorrow morning and you give him an order to get back your letter unopened. You then allow us half an hour to leave the house. Three, you agree to fight me at a place to be arranged later abroad. Do you accept my conditions — yes or no?'

His quick decision, his cleverness and force of character amazed me. For a second I hesitated. Should I let him escape? Yes, the evidence I needed to prove Laura's identity was far more important than revenge.

'I accept your conditions,' I said.

At once, he called for coffee and sat down to write. He wrote quickly for quite some time. Finally, he jumped up, declared that he had finished and read out his statement, which I accepted as satisfactory. He gave me the address of the company from whom he had hired the cab to collect Laura, and also gave me a letter signed by Sir Percival. It was dated 25th July, and announced the journey of Lady Glyde to London on 26th July. So there it was. On 25th July, the date of her death certificate in London, Laura was alive in Hampshire, about to make a journey the next day.

The Count then called in Madame Fosco to watch me while he slept. Early in the morning his agent arrived and I wrote a note for Pesca. An hour later, the agent returned with my unopened letter and the Count's passport.

'Remember the third condition!' the Count said as he left. 'You will hear from me, Mr Hartright.' Then he and the Countess got into the agent's cab with their bags and drove away, leaving the agent with me to make sure I did not follow.

As I watched them leave, another cab went by and I saw inside the man with the scar on his cheek. What was his business with the Count, I wondered? I had seen him too often now for it to be chance. Perhaps I had fought my own battle with the Count just in time. You cannot get a signed confession out of a dead man.

While I waited for the agreed half hour, I read the document that the Count had written for me.


Statement by Isidor Ottavio Baldassare Fosco

In the summer of 1850 I arrived in England on delicate political business and stayed with my friend, Sir Percival Glyde. We both urgently needed large amounts of money. The only person who had such money was his wife, from whom not a penny could be obtained until her death. To make matters worse, my friend had other private problems. A woman called Anne Catherick was hidden in the neighbourhood, was communicating with Lady Glyde, and knew a secret which could ruin him. And if he was ruined, what would happen to our financial interests?

The first thing to do was to find Anne Catherick, who, I was told, looked very much like Lady Glyde and who had escaped from a mad-house. I had the fantastic idea of changing the names, places and lives of Lady Glyde and Anne Catherick, the one with the other. The wonderful results of this change would be the gain of £ 30,000 and the keeping of Sir Percival's secret.

I found Anne Catherick and persuaded her and her friend to return to London. I rented a house in St John's Wood for myself, and obtained from Mr Fairlie in Limmeridge an invitation for Lady Glyde to visit. For my plan to work, it was necessary for Lady Glyde to leave Blackwater Park alone and stay a night at my house on her way to Limmeridge. This plan was made easier by Miss Halcombe's illness. I returned to Blackwater Park, and when Miss Halcombe was out of danger, I got rid of the doctor and instructed Sir Percival to get rid of the servants.

Next, we sent Mrs Michelson away for a few days, and one night Madame Fosco, Mrs Rubelle and I moved the sleeping Miss Halcombe to an unused part of the house. I left for London in the morning with my wife, leaving Sir Percival to persuade Lady Glyde that her sister had gone to Limmeridge and that she should follow her, breaking her journey in London at my house.

On 24th July, with my wife's help, I got hold of Anne Catherick, and took her to my house as Lady Glyde. However, when she saw no one she recognized, she screamed with fear and, to my horror, the shock to her weak heart caused her to collapse. By the end of the following day, she was dead. Dead on the 25th, and Lady Glyde was not due to arrive in London till the 26th!

It was too late to change the plan. I remained calm and carried on. On the 26th, leaving the false Lady Glyde dead in my house, I collected the true Lady Glyde from the railway station and took her to Mrs Rubelle's house. The two medical men I had hired (shall we say) were easily persuaded to certify the confused and frightened Lady Glyde as mentally ill. Then I gave her a drug and had Mrs Rubelle dress her in Anne Catherick's clothes. The next day, the 27th, she was delivered to the asylum, where she was received with great surprise, but without suspicion. The false Lady Glyde was buried at Limmeridge. I attended the funeral with suitable expressions of deep sympathy.

One final question remains. If Anne Catherick had not died when she did, what would I have done? I would, of course, have given her a happy release from the prison of life.


tempt v. to make someone want to have or do something 引诱

contradict v. be in conflict with 与……相矛盾

perform v. act 表演

nudge v. push gently 轻轻地碰

inexpressible adj. that can not be expressed 难以说清的

disguise v. alter the appearance so as to conceal the identity 伪装

curious adj. eager to learn; inquisitive 好奇的

aloud adv. audibly 出声地

agent n. a person who acts for another in business, politics etc. 代理人

delicate adj. tricky 微妙的

fantastic adj. wonderful 绝好的

14.认罪

两个星期之后,我们回到了伦敦。我开始准备与伯爵的较量。现在是5月初,他租房的期限到6月。享受着与劳拉新婚的幸福(我们从未跟她提起过伯爵),有时我忍不住想改变主意,让一切都过去。但是劳拉仍会做梦,可怕的噩梦,她常常在梦里惊叫起来,因此我明白必须继续原来的计划。

首先,我想尽量多了解一些伯爵的事。玛丽安告诉我,他已经很多年没有回意大利了。我想,他是不是由于政治原因被迫离开意大利的呢?但是玛丽安又说,在布莱克沃特庄园他好像收到过贴着意大利邮票的官方来信,这两者是互相矛盾的。也许他是间谍。这样可以解释为什么他在自己的阴谋得逞后,还在英国逗留那么久。有谁能告诉我答案呢?也许该再找个意大利人问问——猛然间我想到了老朋友,佩斯卡教授。

去见佩斯卡教授前,我决定先去看一下伯爵,因为到目前为止,我还从来没有见过他。于是一天早上,我去了圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特大街,在他的住处附近等他出现。最后,他终于出来了,朝伦敦市中心走去。我在后面跟着他。玛丽安跟我提过他身躯肥胖,衣着入时,但我没想到这个人那么精力旺盛,神采飞扬。

在牛津街附近,他停住脚步看一个歌剧的海报,然后走进了不远处的售票处。我过去看了一下海报,发现演出就在晚上,伯爵很可能会出现在观众当中。

我想假如邀请佩斯卡来看歌剧,就可以把伯爵指给他,看他是否认识。于是,我自己买了两张票,给佩斯卡写了封短信,晚上找他一起去看歌剧。

我们进入剧院的时候,音乐已经响起来了,剧场里座无虚席。不过剧场两边还有站的地方。我环顾四周,看到伯爵坐在前面几排的座位上,于是我也站到了那一排,佩斯卡站在我旁边。第一部分演出结束了,观众们,包括伯爵在内,都起身向周围张望。

在伯爵朝我们这个方向看的时候,我用臂肘碰了一下佩斯卡,“看见那个高大的胖子了吗?你认识他吗?”

“不认识,”佩斯卡回答,“他很有名吗?你为什么让我看他?”

“因为我需要更多地了解关于他的情况。他是意大利人,叫福斯科伯爵。你听说过这个名字吗?来,站这个台阶上,你会看得更清楚些。”

一个瘦瘦的金发男子站在我们的旁边,他的左脸上有一道疤。我注意到他看了看佩斯卡,又顺着佩斯卡的视线看了看伯爵。佩斯卡再一次对我说,他不认识那个人,就在他说话的时候,伯爵朝我们这边看过来。

这两个意大利人的目光相遇了。

那一瞬间,我敢肯定地说,佩斯卡可能不认识伯爵,但伯爵一定认识佩斯卡!

不仅是认识,更令人惊奇的是伯爵害怕佩斯卡。伯爵脸上的表情凝固了,像死人一样毫无血色,冷酷的灰眼睛恐惧地盯着这边。

脸上有疤的人似乎饶有兴趣地在一旁看着佩斯卡对伯爵的影响。

“那个胖子怎么那样看着我!”佩斯卡说,转过头看着我,“我从未见过他呀。”

佩斯卡扭头的时候,伯爵转身快步向剧场后边走去,那里人最多。我一把抓住佩斯卡的胳膊,不顾他的惊讶,拉着他紧追伯爵。那个脸上有疤的瘦子显然也准备离开剧场,并且已经走到了我们的前面。等我和佩斯卡赶到入口,伯爵和那个瘦子都已经不见了。

“佩斯卡,”我赶忙说,“我必须和你单独谈谈,我们到你的住处去谈可以吗?”

“这到底是怎么回事?”佩斯卡大声说。

我没回答,只是催着他赶紧走。伯爵离开剧场的样子,还有他迫不及待地要躲避佩斯卡,使我担心他可能会逃得更远——我可能再也找不到他了。

到了佩斯卡的住处,我以最快的速度向他讲述了事情的经过,他充满迷惑和惊讶地望着我。

他认识你——他很怕你。他离开剧场就是要逃避你,”我说,“这其中一定有原因,佩斯卡!回忆一下你来英国以前的经历。你是由于政治原因离开意大利的,我不是问你那些政治原因,不过那个人如此惊慌会不会同你的过去有什么关联?”

令我非常吃惊的是,这些本来无关紧要的话好像令佩斯卡非常惊恐。他的脸色变得煞白,身体开始颤抖。

“沃尔特!”他低声说,“你不知道你问了什么。”

我两眼紧盯着他,“佩斯卡,请原谅。我不是有意要给你带来痛苦,我说那些话只是因为那个人给我妻子带来了巨大的伤害。请你原谅我。”

我起身要离开,还没走到门口,他叫住了我。

“等一下,”他说,“你救过我的命,你有权从我这里知道你想要知道的东西,即使这会要了我的命。我唯一的请求是,即使你发现了我的过去同那个福斯科的关系,你也不要告诉我。”

接着,他开始讲他的经历,过去的记忆卷土重来,令他脸色煞白。

“我年轻的时候参加了一个秘密政治社团,现在还是它的成员。我们姑且叫它兄弟社团,我不能告诉你真实的名称。我当时完成了很多出生入死的任务,也做了一些给其他成员带来危险的事,所以社团命令我到英国待命。我服从命令来了英国——一直在等——现在还在等。我可能明天就被召回,也许是10年以后。我不知道。

“兄弟社团的宗旨是为人民争取权利。它在意大利有一个主席,国外有很多主席。每个主席都有秘书。主席和秘书认识所有的成员,但除非在必要的情况下,成员们彼此都不认识。每个兄弟社团成员的左臂内侧靠上的地方都有一个很小的圆形烙印,这是他们的记号。”

他卷起衣袖,给我看他自己的烙印。

“任何人背叛了兄弟社团,”他接着说,“他肯定会被处死。其他成员,也许是一个他不认识的陌生人,也许是他的邻居,会奉命杀死他。任何人不能退出社团——永远都不可以。”

佩斯卡停了一会儿又说:“在意大利,我被选为秘书,所有的成员那时都被带来见主席,当然也就见到了。你明白了我的意思——我从你的表情看出来了。但是,什么也别跟我说,求你了!我不想做我必须做的事,我感到害怕。

“我不认识剧场的那个人,”他最后说,“如果他认识,那他一定跟以前变化很大,或者伪装了自己,让我认不出来了。你现在走吧,沃尔特。我说得够多了。”

“我衷心地感谢你,佩斯卡,”我说,“你永远不会为信任我而后悔的。”

走在回家的路上,我的心情激动不已。我终于找到了对付伯爵的武器。我敢肯定他原来是一个兄弟社团成员,后来背叛了社团,他认为自己今晚被认出来了。现在他的生命很危险。不然他见到佩斯卡为什么那样害怕呢?

那他接着会做什么呢?尽快离开伦敦。如果我去他的住处拦住他,他肯定会毫不犹豫地杀了我。为保护我自己,我必须让他的生命安全地攥在我的手里。我赶忙回到家,给佩斯卡写了一封信:

剧场的那个人,福斯科,是你们社团的一个成员,他背叛了社团。赶快到他的住处圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特街5号。我已经死了。请用你的力量立即干掉他。

我签了名,写上日期,又在信封上写道:等到明天上午9点。如果到那时还没有我的消息,再打开信封读里面的内容。

然后,我找了一个信使,叫他把信送走并带回佩斯卡的回复,说他已经收到信了。20分钟后,我拿到了回复的纸条。我刚要离开,玛丽安出现在门口,脸上露出担忧的表情。

“就是今天晚上吗?”她说,“你要去找伯爵。”

“对,这是最后的机会,也是最好的机会。”

“噢,沃尔特,别一个人去!让我跟你去吧,不要一个人去!”

“不行,玛丽安。你必须留在这里替我保护劳拉。那样,我面对伯爵的时候才会放心。”

*  *  *

快到伯爵住处的时候,我碰见了脸上有疤的那个人,早些时候在剧场就见过他。他在这儿做什么,我心里很纳闷。

我把名片递进去,我到现在也不明白,为什么夜里11点半伯爵还让我进去。他对我好奇,想见我?他并不知道我和佩斯卡同在剧场,我猜想他觉得我没有什么好怕的。

他还穿着晚礼服,地上有一个旅行箱,他周围满是书籍、文件和衣服。我猜的没错。

“你来这里有事,哈特里特先生?”他一边说,一边用好奇的眼光打量我,“我想不出会是什么事。”

“你像是在准备出门旅行,”我说,“这就是我来的原因。我知道你为什么要离开伦敦。”

“你知道我为什么要离开伦敦?”他走到一张桌旁,打开抽屉,“如果你愿意,说说为什么。”

“我可以让你看看为什么,”我说,“把你左边的衣袖卷起,就能看到。”

他那冷酷的灰眼睛一动不动地盯着我。接下来是一阵令人紧张的寂静。我就像亲眼所见一样清楚,那抽屉里藏着枪,我现在命悬一线。

“等一下,”我说,“你动手之前,我建议你看看这个纸条。”我慢慢地、小心翼翼地把佩斯卡的纸条递给他。

他出声读着纸条。

你的信收到了。如果9点以前没有你的消息,9点整,钟一响我就打开信封。

假如换作另外一个人,可能需要一些解释,但伯爵不需要。他脸上的表情变了,他关上了抽屉。

“你比我想的要聪明,”他说,“我9点以前走不了,我得等人给我送护照来。你得到的信息可能是真的,也可能是假的。你是从哪儿知道的?”

“我不会告诉你的。”

“你给我的没有签名的纸条是谁写的?”

“一个你非常害怕的人。”

他停了一会儿,“你要我做什么,哈特里特先生?是不是跟一位女士有关?”

“是的,是我妻子。”我回答。

他非常吃惊地看着我。看得出他不再认为我会给他带来危险了。他双手交叉抱在胸前,面带冷笑听我继续说下去。

“你犯下了严重的罪行,”我接着说道,“但是,你可以留着你得到的钱。我只要一个由你签名的认罪书,还有我妻子回伦敦的日期证明。”

“好!”他说,“这是你的条件,我的条件是:第一,福斯科夫人和我在我们愿意的时候离开这里,你不要阻止我们。第二,你呆在这里,明天一早我的代理人过来,你让他取回那封还没有打开的信。然后,你要给我们半个小时的时间离开这里。第三,你答应跟我在国外找一个地方决斗。你接受我的条件吗——是还是否?”

他的迅速决断,他的精干和意志力令我震惊。我犹豫了一会儿。我应该让他逃走吗?是的,证明劳拉身份的证据比复仇重要得多。

“我接受你的条件。”我说。

他随即叫人拿来咖啡,坐下开始写。他落笔如飞,写了很长时间。最后,他站起来,说他已经写完了并念给我听。我觉得还满意。他给了我他租车接劳拉的那家公司的地址,同时给我的还有珀西瓦尔爵士签名的一封信。信的日期是7月25日,里面说格莱德夫人将于7月26日启程去伦敦。这就是证据。7月25日,即死亡证明上宣告劳拉死于伦敦的日子,劳拉还在汉普郡活着准备第二天的旅行。

然后,伯爵把福斯科夫人叫进来,让她看着我,他自己去睡觉。第二天一早,他的代理人来了,我给佩斯卡写了封短信。一个小时后,代理人拿着我那封没打开的信和护照回来了。

“别忘了第三个条件!”伯爵临走时说,“你会收到我的信的,哈特里特先生。”说完,他和伯爵夫人坐上代理人的马车离开了这里,代理人留下来,确保我不跟踪他们。

我看着他们离开,这时另一辆马车驶过去,车里坐着那个脸上有疤的人。他和伯爵有什么瓜葛?我看到他好几次了,不应该是巧合。或许我跟伯爵的较量正是时候。他要是死了,我就没法得到他签名的笔录了。

在约定的半小时里,我读了伯爵写给我的认罪书。

伊西多·奥塔维奥·鲍尔德塞尔·福斯科的证词

1850年夏天,由于微妙的政治原因我来到英国,同我的朋友珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士住在一起。我们两人都急需一大笔钱。唯一拥有这笔钱的人是他妻子,但是他妻子不死,我们一分钱也得不到。更糟糕的是,我的朋友又遇到了别的麻烦事。一个叫安妮·凯瑟里克的女人藏在我们附近,她在同格莱德夫人接触,并且掌握着一个可以毁掉珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。如果他完蛋了,那我们的经济利益怎么办呢?

我们要做的第一件事就是找到安妮·凯瑟里克。我了解到她的长相和格莱德夫人极为相似。她是从精神病院逃出来的。我突发奇想,把格莱德夫人同安妮·凯瑟里克的名字、住处、经历互换一下。互换的结果既可以让我们得到3万英镑,又能够保住珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。

我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,说服她和她的朋友回伦敦去。我自己在圣约翰伍德租了房子,同时从利默里奇的费尔利先生那里得到了邀请格莱德夫人去看望他的信。要实现我的计划,必须让格莱德夫人一个人离开布莱克沃特庄园,在去往利默里奇的途中在我家里住一夜。哈尔库姆小姐的病让我的计划更容易进行了。我回到布莱克沃特庄园,等哈尔库姆小姐一脱离危险,就辞退了医生,并且让珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了所有仆人。

下一步,我们让米切尔森太太离开庄园几天。一天晚上,福斯科夫人、鲁贝尔太太和我把昏睡中的哈尔库姆小姐抬到了一个没有人住的房间里。转天一早,我和夫人赶往伦敦,留下珀西瓦尔爵士劝说格莱德夫人,让她相信她姐姐已经去了利默里奇,她也应该去找她,途中在伦敦我的家休息。

7月24日,在我妻子的协助下,我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,把她带到我的住处,假装就是格莱德夫人。然而,当安妮·凯瑟里克看到没有一个她认识的人时,吓得叫了起来。令我非常害怕的是,惊吓使她脆弱的心脏无法承受,转天她就死了。她是25日死的,可是格莱德夫人26日才能到伦敦!

改变计划已经来不及了。我尽量保持头脑冷静,继续着原来的计划。26日,我把已死的假格莱德夫人留在家里,到车站去接真正的格莱德夫人,带她到鲁贝尔太太家。我雇用的(可以这样说)两个医生很容易就被说服了,他们证明迷惑而惊恐的格莱德夫人患了精神病。而后,我给她吃了镇静药,让鲁贝尔太太给她穿上安妮·凯瑟里克的衣服。第二天,也就是27日,格莱德夫人被送进精神病院,那里的人非常吃惊,但没有人怀疑。假格莱德夫人被埋葬在利默里奇。我出席了葬礼,表现出应有的悲伤与同情。

还有最后一个问题,如果安妮·凯瑟里克没有死的话,我会怎么办呢?我当然很高兴帮她摆脱牢笼般的人生。

15
The proof

When the half hour had passed, I returned home. After a brief explanation to Laura and Marian, I hurried back to St John's Wood to find the cab-driver whom the Count had hired to collect Laura at the station. He wrote me a statement, which he and a witness signed, saying that on 26th July 1850 he had driven a Count Fosco to the railway station where they had collected a Lady Glyde. He remembered Lady Glyde's name, he said, from the labels on her luggage.

Then I went to Mr Kyrle's office and presented him with the proof of Laura's identity — the letter from Sir Percival, the statement by the cab-driver, the confession by the Count, and the death certificate. Amazed, he congratulated me, and agreed to accompany us to Limmeridge the next day, where I intended to have Laura publicly received and recognized.

Early the next morning Laura, Marian, Mr Kyrle and I took the train to Limmeridge. Laura and Marian stayed at first in a hotel while Mr Kyrle and I went to the house to deal with Mr Fairlie. He complained like a child, saying how was he to know his niece was alive when he was told she was dead? Between us, the lawyer and I made him sign letters calling all those who had attended the false funeral to come to the house the next day.

As I led Laura into her childhood home the following morning, there was a murmur of surprise and interest from the waiting crowd of villagers and neighbours. The business was soon done. I read out the story of the plot against Laura, and Mr Kyrle announced that everything I had said was proved by the strongest evidence. I put my arm around Laura, raised her up, and called to the crowd:

'Are you all agreed that this is the Laura Fairlie you knew?'

'There she is, alive and well — God bless her!' It was an old man at the back of the room who began it, and in an instant everybody was shouting and cheering together.

Later, in the churchyard, we watched a stone worker remove Laura's name from the gravestone. In its place he put this:

ANNE CATHERICK

25TH JULY 1850

We returned to London the following day, happy in the thought that the long struggle was now over.

*  *  *

Several days later Pesca came to see me, and asked for a quiet word in my ear. He had just returned from Paris.

'I have news for you, my friend,' he said. 'You need not worry any more about the man at the opera. His body was found in the river Seine yesterday and now lies in the morgue in Paris. He was killed by knife wounds to the heart.'

'Count Fosco is dead?' I said, amazed. 'Are you sure?'

'I saw the body with my own eyes. He was wearing a French workman's clothes, and had a different name, of course, but he was the fat man we saw at the opera that night. No question.'

'But how do you know this?' I asked.

Pesca hesitated. 'A man brought me some information,' he said. 'I had to see the body, and send a report about it.'

'A man,' I said. 'What kind of man?'

'A stranger,' said Pesca. 'I didn't know him. A man with a scar on his left cheek.' He saw the understanding in my face, and held up his hand. 'No more questions, my friend. Please!'

We never spoke about it again, but I think Pesca was telling me that the Brotherhood had taken their revenge. And so Count Fosco, that extraordinary, evil man, passed from this world.

*  *  *

The following year our first child was born — a son. Six months later my newspaper sent me to Ireland and, when I returned, I found a note from my wife saying she and Marian and little Walter had gone to Limmeridge House. She begged me to follow as soon as possible. Very surprised, I caught the next train. When I got there, Marian and Laura told me Mr Fairlie was dead and that Mr Kyrle had advised them to go to Limmeridge House.

Laura came close to me and I half realized some great change was happening in our lives.

'Do you know who this is, Walter?' Marian asked, holding up my little son, with tears of happiness in her eyes. 'This is the boy who will one day inherit Limmeridge House.'

So she spoke. In writing those last words, I have written everything. Marian was the good friend of our lives — let Marian end our story.


label n. a small piece of paper, card etc. attached to an object and giving information about it 标签

congratulate v. express pleasure at the happiness or good fortune or excellence of a person 祝贺

morgue n. a room or building in which dead bodies may be kept until burial or cremation 停尸间

15.证据

alt

那半个小时过去了,我回到家里。简单地向劳拉和玛丽安说明了情况后,我立即赶回圣约翰伍德去找那个伯爵雇来到车站接劳拉的车夫。那人给我写了份证词,他和另一个证人都签了字。证词说,1850年7月26日他驾车送福斯科伯爵去车站,接了一位格莱德夫人。他说还记得格莱德夫人的名字,是在行李标签上看到的。

然后,我去了克尔先生的办公室,给他看了证明劳拉身份的证据——珀西瓦尔爵士的信、马车夫的证词、伯爵的认罪书和那份死亡证明。克尔先生很吃惊,接着向我表示祝贺并且答应第二天陪我们到利默里奇,我准备让人们公开地接受和认可劳拉。

转天的一大早,劳拉、玛丽安、克尔先生和我乘火车前往利默里奇。劳拉和玛丽安先在一家旅店里休息,克尔先生和我去庄园与费尔利先生交涉。费尔利先生像孩子一样抱怨说,有人告诉他他侄女死了,他怎么会知道他侄女还活着?在只有我们三个人的情况下,克尔先生和我让他在事先准备好的信上签字,邀请所有参加那场假葬礼的人第二天到费尔利家来。

第二天早晨,当我带着劳拉走进她儿时的家时,等候在那里的村民和邻居们发出惊奇的低语声。很快我们进入了正题。我大声宣读了针对劳拉的罪恶阴谋的全过程,克尔先生当众宣布我说的每一件事都证据确凿。我搂住劳拉,扶她起来,高声对众人说:

“你们说这是不是你们认识的劳拉·费尔利?”

“是她,她还好好地活着——上帝保佑她!”一位站在屋子后面的老人首先说,其他人也都立刻欢呼起来。

后来,在教堂墓地里,我们亲眼看着一位石匠把劳拉的名字从墓碑上凿去,在原来的地方刻上:

安妮·凯瑟里克

卒于1850年7月25日

转天,我们返回了伦敦,想到漫长的斗争终于结束了,我们都非常高兴。

*  *  *

过了几天,佩斯卡来看我,要跟我单独聊聊。他刚从巴黎回来。

“我有重要的消息要告诉你,我的朋友,”他说,“你不用再担心剧场里的那个人了,昨天在塞纳河发现了他的尸体,现在他的尸体停放在巴黎的停尸间。他是被人用刀子刺进心脏而死的。”

“福斯科伯爵已经死了?”我吃惊地问,“你能肯定吗?”

“我亲眼看了他的尸体,他穿着法国工人的制服,当然也换了名字,但他就是那天晚上我们在剧场见到的那个胖子。一点儿没错。”

“可你是怎么知道这个消息的呢?”我问。

佩斯卡犹豫了一下。“有人告诉我的,”他说,“我必须亲眼看到他的尸体,然后发一个报告。”

“有人,”我说,“是什么人?”

“一个陌生人,”佩斯卡回答,“我不认识那个人,他的左脸上有一道疤。”看到我脸上了然的表情,他抬了抬手,“请不要多问了,我的朋友!”

我们再没有提起这件事,不过我想佩斯卡是要告诉我兄弟社团已经采取了复仇行动。就这样,福斯科伯爵,那个能力不俗的恶徒从这个世界上消失了。

*  *  *

第二年,我们的第一个孩子出世了——是个儿子。6个月以后,我供职的那家报社派我去了爱尔兰。我回来的时候,看到妻子留给我的一封短信,信上说她和玛丽安还有小沃尔特去了利默里奇庄园。她让我尽快去找他们。我感到很惊讶,赶下一班火车去了那里。我到那儿之后,玛丽安和劳拉告诉我费尔利先生去世了,是克尔先生建议她们到利默里奇庄园去的。

劳拉走到我身边,我朦胧地意识到我们的生活将要发生什么大事。

“你知道这是谁吗,沃尔特?”玛丽安一边举起我的小儿子,一边问我,眼睛里充满了喜悦的泪水,“这个孩子将来有一天会继承利默里奇庄园。”

她就是这样说的。写完了最后几句话,我的讲述就到这里了。玛丽安是我们的终生好友——就让她结束我们的故事吧。

15.The proof

PART THREE
THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
第三部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

9
The gravestone

On 13th October 1850 I left the wild forests of Central America and returned to England. I had escaped death by disease, death by war, and death by drowning, and hoped that these experiences had strengthened me to face my future — a future without Laura Fairlie. I still remembered her as Laura Fairlie, and could not think of her by her husband's name.

The first thing I did was to visit my mother and sister in their Hampstead cottage. The joy of our meeting, however, soon turned to sadness. I have no secrets from my mother, and when I saw the loving pity in her eyes, I feared the worst.

The news was soon told. I tried hard not to let my sorrow spoil the happiness of my return for my mother and sister, but by the third day I knew I had to go away alone for a while.

'Let me go up to Limmeridge,' I begged my mother. 'I can bear it better when I have seen her grave.'

It was a warm autumn afternoon when I arrived at the station and walked down the familiar road, seeing in the distance the high white walls of Limmeridge House. In the churchyard I found the grave and knelt down beside the gravestone, closing my eyes.

Oh my love! My Love! My dear, dear Love!

Hours passed, and the evening sunlight threw long shadows among the sleeping places of the dead. I had lost all sense of time, kneeling there. Then, in the silence, I heard the soft sound of footsteps on the grass.

I looked up.

Beyond me, standing together by the churchyard wall, were two women, their veils down, hiding their faces. They were looking towards the grave, looking towards me.

Two.

They came closer, and stopped. One of them lifted her veil, and in the still evening light I saw the face of Marian Halcombe. A changed face. Thin and pale, full of pain and fear.

The woman with the veiled face came towards me slowly. Marian Halcombe sank to her knees, murmuring, 'Oh God, help him! Please, please help him, God!'

The veiled woman came on, slowly and silently. I looked at her — at her, and at no one else, from that moment. She had possession of me, body and soul. She stopped by the side of the gravestone, and we stood face to face with the grave between us.

'Oh God, help him, help him!'

The woman lifted her veil.

In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde...

Laura, Lady Glyde, was standing by the gravestone, looking at me over her grave.

*  *  *

A life suddenly changed. A new future before me, like the sunlit view from a mountain top. I leave my story in the quiet shadow of Limmeridge church, and begin again, one week later, in the noise and rush of a London street.

I have rented rooms under a different name. Marian and Laura, using the same name, are said to be my sisters. I earn our bread by doing drawings for cheap magazines. We employ no servant; my elder sister, Marian, does the housework with her own hands. Marian and I are known to be the friends of mad Anne Catherick (address unknown), who falsely claims the identity of Lady Glyde. To the rest of the world, Laura, Lady Glyde, is dead. Dead to her uncle, who has refused to recognize her; dead to the lawyers, who have passed her fortune to her husband and aunt.

But to Marian and me she is alive! Penniless and sadly changed — her beauty faded, her mind confused — but alive, with her poor drawing teacher to fight her battles and to win her way back to the world of living beings. She is mine at last — mine to support, to protect, to defend. And mine to love.


drown v. to kill by submerging and suffocating in liquid 淹死;溺死

strengthen v. make stronger 变得坚强

veil n. a piece of fabric attached to a woman's hat 面纱

earn one's bread earn one's living 维持生计

penniless adj. having no money 身无分文的

9.墓碑

1850年10月13日我离开中美洲的原始森林,回到了英国。我一次次逃过疾病、战争和洪水带来的死亡危险。我希望这些经历能够使我更加坚强地面对未来——没有劳拉的未来。在我心里她依然是劳拉·费尔利,我无法把她冠以她丈夫的姓氏。

我回来后的第一件事是到汉普斯特德看望母亲和妹妹。欢聚的快乐很快转化为悲伤。我没有任何秘密瞒着母亲,从她充满爱怜和同情的眼光里,我预感到最坏的事情发生了。

她们把消息告诉了我。我尽最大努力不让自己的悲哀破坏我回家带给母亲和妹妹的喜悦。但是,回来的第三天,我觉得必须一个人离开一段时间。

“让我到利默里奇去一趟吧,”我恳求着母亲,“看到她的坟墓,我可以更好地接受这一切。”

那是一个秋日的午后,天气很暖和,我到达目的地车站,走在熟悉的大路上,望着远处利默里奇庄园的白色高墙。在教堂墓地里,我找到了劳拉的墓,在她的墓碑前跪下来,闭上了双眼。

我的爱人我的爱人我最亲爱的人

几个小时过去了,落日的余辉在死者的安息地投下长长的影子。我跪在那里,完全没有了时间概念。这时,寂静中传来人走在草地上的脚步声。

我抬起头来。

不远处,教堂墓地的围墙边站着两个女人,面纱遮住了她们的脸。她们正朝墓地张望,正朝张望。

两个女人。

她们朝我走来。其中一个掀起了面纱,借着仅有的一点儿光线,我看出那是玛丽安·哈尔库姆小姐。她的脸变得跟从前不一样了:清瘦而苍白,充满了痛苦和恐惧。

头戴面纱的女人缓慢地向我走来。玛丽安·哈尔库姆跪下来,轻声说:“噢,上帝,帮帮他吧,帮帮他吧,上帝!”

头戴面纱的女人向我走来,缓慢地,无言地向我走来。我注视着她——目不转睛地久久注视着她。她占据了我的一切,我的灵魂和肉体。她在墓碑前停住脚步,我们隔着坟墓互相注视着。

“噢,上帝,帮帮他,帮帮他吧!”

那个女人掀起了面纱。

爱妻劳拉·格莱德夫人之墓……

劳拉·格莱德夫人,她就站在墓碑旁,隔着坟墓望着我。

alt

*  *  *

生活突然间变了。一个崭新的未来展现在我的面前,就像在山顶上看到的撒满阳光的景色。我把过去的故事留在了利默里奇教堂那寂静的阴影中,一星期后在喧闹、繁忙的伦敦开始了新的生活。

我换了一个姓氏租了房子。玛丽安和劳拉也用同样的姓氏,对外人就说是我的姐妹。我靠给廉价杂志画画维持生计。我们没有请仆人,我的姐姐,玛丽安亲自做家务。我和玛丽安对外就说是疯女人安妮·凯瑟里克(住址不详)的朋友,那疯女人总说自己是格莱德夫人。对世界上其他人来说,劳拉·格莱德夫人已经死了;对拒不承认她的叔叔,她已经死了;对把她的财产转给她丈夫和姑妈的律师,她也已经死了。

但是对于玛丽安和我,她还活着!她身无分文,人也变了——她的美丽在消逝,头脑一片混乱——但她还活着,她那可怜的绘画教师要为她奋争,使她重新回到真实的生活中来。她终于属于我了——由我供养、呵护、保护,由我所爱。

10
The rescue

At the first opportunity we had, Marian told me everything that had happened to her and Laura. The hardest part for her was after she had returned to Limmeridge House.

'I was in despair, Walter,' she said. 'Mr Kyrle's investigation was finished, and had shown nothing, he said. Mr Fairlie was no help at all — I heard that he didn't even leave his room to go to the funeral! But he did show me a letter he'd received from Count Fosco, which contained news of Anne Catherick. The Count said that Anne Catherick had been found and put back in the asylum from which she had escaped. But because she hated Sir Percival and wanted to make trouble for him, she was now claiming that she was not Anne Catherick at all, but Lady Glyde. The Count warned Mr Fairlie that if she escaped again, she might try to annoy members of Lady Glyde's family.

'I wasn't well enough to do anything for about a month after returning to Limmeridge, but when I felt stronger, I decided to make some investigations myself. First, I planned to visit the asylum in London and talk to poor Anne Catherick, to find out why she was claiming to be Laura. I knew the address because you had given it to me, all those months ago.

'Well, Walter, you can guess what's coming, I'm sure. The director of the asylum, who seemed an honest person, told me that Anne Catherick had been brought back on 27th July. He was puzzled by some odd personal changes in her, but assumed they were caused by her mental illness. He then called a nurse to take me to Anne Catherick, who was walking in the gardens.

'Imagine the shock, Walter — seeing my dead sister walking towards me in that garden! We just ran into each other's arms, unable to say a word. How the nurse stared at us!'

'I think I know how you must have felt,' I said. 'I shall never forget in the churchyard at Limmeridge... But tell me, however did you get Laura out of the asylum?'

'Bribery, Walter. I didn't want to risk a legal battle and all the delay that would involve, so I persuaded the nurse that a terrible mistake had been made and she would be doing a good thing in helping Anne Catherick escape. And I offered her £400. The plan went smoothly, and by early afternoon the next day Laura and I were on the train to Cumberland.'

'And Laura?' I asked. 'What actually happened on the day she left Blackwater Park and came to London?'

Marian sighed. 'Oh, Walter, it's not at all clear. Poor Laura's mind is so confused now that her memory of events is very unreliable. She can't even remember the date she left Blackwater. All she has been able to tell me is this. The Count met her at the station, and said that I was still in London and that he would take her to see me at once. She doesn't remember where the cab went, but it was clearly not to his house in St John's Wood. She was taken to a house in a narrow street, where people came and went, asking her questions she didn't understand. At this point the Count told her I was now very ill; she was so frightened by this news she nearly fainted. Someone then gave her a glass of water, which she said tasted odd — and after that she lost consciousness.'

'Poor, poor Laura,' I murmured.

'She woke up,' Marian continued, 'in the asylum, unable to leave, unable to make contact with the outside world. She was called by Anne Catherick's name and found she was wearing clothes with Anne Catherick's name on them. She was told Lady Glyde was dead and buried, and that she was Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick... Day in, day out, from 27th July to 15th October, she was made to feel that she was mad. It's hardly surprising her mind is so confused now.'

'And what happened at Limmeridge?' I asked.

Marian turned her face away. 'I can't bear to think about it,' she said. 'The worst part was taking Laura into Mr Fairlie's room. He looked straight into Laura's face and said, "My niece is buried in Limmeridge churchyard. I don't recognize this woman. Remove her from my house before I call on the law to protect me." Even the servants were doubtful about her identity, because she was so much changed and so confused by her experiences. Perhaps people would have been persuaded if we'd stayed longer, but I didn't dare risk it. At any minute the people from the asylum might come looking for us, so I decided to return to London at once and hide. Then, as we were passing the churchyard, Laura insisted on a last look at her mother's grave. And... well, that moment changed our three lives.'

'I think God was guiding Laura's footsteps,' I said.

How well I remember that day — that moment when Laura laid her poor head innocently and trustingly on my shoulder, and said, 'They have tried to make me forget everything, Walter, but I remember Marian, and I remember you.'

*  *  *

The plot against Laura was now clear. Anne Catherick had been taken into Count Fosco's house as Lady Glyde, and Lady Glyde had taken the dead woman's place in the asylum. It was also clear that the three of us could expect no mercy from Count Fosco and Sir Percival, who between them had gained £30,000 from the plot. They would do everything in their power to prevent their crime being discovered, and would hunt for their victim to separate her from her only friends — Marian and myself. This is why I had chosen a poor and crowded part of London to live in. It is easier to hide in a place where people are always coming and going.

Our life quickly took on a regular pattern — work, watching out for our enemies, and care of Laura, whom we surrounded with a gentle, protective love, helping her slowly but steadily to recover her balance of mind and her self-confidence.

Meanwhile, Marian and I began the battle. We studied the statements that Mr Kyrle had taken from witnesses — the doctor, and the servants and cook in Count Fosco's house. I obtained a copy of Lady Glyde's death certificate, and Marian wrote to Mrs Michelson, who replied, saying that she could not remember the exact date of Laura's departure from Blackwater Park. Nor could she remember when the letter announcing Laura's death, which was undated, had arrived from Madame Fosco.

I also arranged to visit Mr Kyrle, to ask for his help. After listening to my long explanation, the lawyer shook his head.

'My legal opinion, Mr Hartright, is that you won't win this case in a court of law. I accept, of course, that the identity of Lady Glyde as a living person is a proved fact to Miss Halcombe and yourself. But there is no evidence. If you could prove that the date on the death certificate was earlier than the date of Lady Glyde's journey to London, then you might have a case.'

As I left, he gave me a letter that had been delivered to him for Marian, and told me, in answer to my question, that Sir Percival Glyde had returned to London.

Outside in the street I soon noticed two men following me, and realized too late that the Count's spies must have been watching the lawyer's office, in the hope that Marian or I would go there. I went home by a very long route and managed to lose them, but it was a warning to me to be more careful.

Marian was very worried when I told her about the two men. Then I gave her the letter. She recognized the writing instantly.

'It's from Count Fosco.'


Dear and admirable woman, do not be afraid! Stay hidden, with your gentle companion, and nothing will happen to you. Challenge nothing, threaten nobody. Do not, I beg you, force me into action. If Mr Hartright returns to England, do not speak to him. If he crosses my path, he is a Lost man. F.


'Walter!' Marian said, her eyes flashing with anger. 'If ever the Count and Sir Percival are at your mercy and you must spare one of them, don't let it be the Count.'

'I'll keep this letter to remind me when the time comes,' I said. 'But tomorrow I will go to Blackwater, to try and find out the date of Laura's journey to London. It's the one weak point in their plot.'

'You mean that perhaps Laura did not leave for London until after the date on the death certificate?'

'Exactly. I think she left on 26th July. The Director of the asylum said she was taken there on the 27th. I doubt if they could have kept her drugged more than one night. We know from Mrs Michelson that Sir Percival left on the same day as Laura. I'll ask everyone in the village if they remember when he left.'

'And if that fails?'

'If that fails, Marian, I'll force a confession from Sir Percival. We have one weapon against him — his secret. Anne Catherick said that if his secret was known, it would ruin him. I intend to find out that secret. The woman in white, though dead in her grave, is still with us and is showing us the way!'


bribery n. persuading a person to act in one's favor by a gift of money or services 贿赂

unreliable adj. not liable 不可靠的

plot n. a conspiracy or secret plan esp. to achieve an unlawful end 阴谋

mercy n. kindness, pity, and willingness to forgive 仁慈

cross one's path meet sb by chance 与…偶然相遇

flash v. burst 闪烁

10.营救

我们刚一有机会交谈,玛丽安就把她和劳拉的遭遇从头到尾讲给我听。最令她难过的是回到利默里奇之后的经历。

“我太绝望了,沃尔特,”她说,“克尔先生的调查结束了,他说什么也没发现。费尔利先生一点儿忙也不帮——我听说他甚至都没离开他的房间去参加葬礼!不过他倒是把福斯科伯爵的信给了我,信里面有安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。伯爵说安妮·凯瑟里克已经找到了,被送回了原来的精神病院。但是,凯瑟里克因为痛恨珀西瓦尔爵士,想给他找麻烦,所以她现在自称不是安妮·凯瑟里克,而是格莱德夫人。伯爵提醒费尔利先生,假如她再逃出来,很可能要给格莱德夫人的家人添乱子。

“回来的头一个月,我身体虚弱,什么也干不了。后来身体恢复了,我决定亲自去调查。首先,我准备去伦敦的精神病院找可怜的安妮·凯瑟里克谈谈,弄清楚为什么她要自称是劳拉。我知道地址,是你几个月前给我的。

“噢,沃尔特,我相信你能猜到接下来发生的事情。精神病院的院长看上去是个正直的人,他告诉我,安妮·凯瑟里克是7月27日被送回来的。他对凯瑟里克身上的变化感到很困惑,但他推测是由于精神方面的疾病造成的。然后,他叫一名护士带我去见安妮·凯瑟里克,她正在花园散步。

“想象一下,当时我有多么震惊,沃尔特——我看到自己死去的妹妹在花园里朝我走来!我们跑向对方,紧紧地抱在一起,一句话也说不出来。护士不解地望着我们。”

“我很清楚你当时的心情,”我说,“我永远不会忘记在利默里奇教堂墓地……可是,你是怎么把劳拉救出精神病院的呢?”

“贿赂,沃尔特。我不想打官司,那样太冒险,也会耽误很长时间。所以,我对护士说,这里一定有严重的误会,如果她能帮助安妮·凯瑟里克逃走,就做了一件天大的好事。之后,我给了她400英镑。计划进行得很顺利,第二天刚过中午,我和劳拉就乘上了开往坎伯兰郡的火车。”

“那么,劳拉呢?”我问,“她离开布莱克沃特庄园到伦敦后,到底发生了什么?”

玛丽安叹了口气,“噢,沃尔特,现在还不清楚。可怜的劳拉思维很乱,她的记忆不可靠。她连离开布莱克沃特的日期都记不起来。她能告诉我的就是,伯爵在车站接她,告诉她我还在伦敦,他要带劳拉马上去见我。她不记得车往哪里走了,但是很明显不是去伯爵在圣约翰伍德的家。她被带进一条小巷里的一间房子,那里人来人往,问一些她听不懂的问题。这时,伯爵告诉她我病得很严重,她听了非常害怕,几乎昏了过去。接着有人给了她一杯水,她说水的味道很怪,之后她就失去了知觉。”

“可怜的劳拉。”我低声自语着。

“她醒来以后,”玛丽安接着说,“发现自己在精神病院里,既不能离开,也无法同外界接触。别人叫她安妮·凯瑟里克,她发现自己穿着有安妮·凯瑟里克名字的衣服。别人告诉她格莱德夫人已经死了,被安葬了,她就是安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克……一天又一天,从7月27日到10月15日,他们强迫她认为自己疯了。难怪现在她思维混乱。”

“在利默里奇发生了什么?”我问道。

玛丽安把头转向一侧。“我简直不忍心想在那儿发生的事情。”她回答,“最糟的就是我带劳拉走进费尔利先生的房间后,他紧盯着劳拉的脸说:‘我侄女已经埋在利默里奇教堂墓地了。我不认识这个女人。赶快带她出去,不然我要用法律来保护自己了。’仆人们也对劳拉的身份很怀疑,因为她变化太大了,她的经历也让她思绪异常混乱。也许我们逗留的时间长一些,大家会被说服,但是我不想冒这个险,因为精神病院的人随时都会来找我们,所以我决定马上回伦敦躲起来。当我们经过教堂的时候,劳拉坚持要最后再看一眼她母亲的坟墓。后来……嗯,那一刻改变了我们三个人的生活。”

“我想是上帝在引导着劳拉的脚步。”我说。

我清楚地记得那天——可怜的劳拉将头依偎在我的肩头,充满了纯洁与信任。她说:“他们想叫我忘掉一切,沃尔特,但我还记得玛丽安,我还记得。”

*  *  *

针对劳拉的阴谋现在已经清楚了。安妮·凯瑟里克被当作格莱德夫人带进了福斯科伯爵的家里,格莱德夫人在精神病院里取代了那个已经死了的女人的位置。还有一点也很明显,福斯科伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士是不会放过我们三个的。他们两人从这个阴谋中得到30,000英镑。他们会尽一切可能不让他们的罪行败露,也会极力追寻他们所陷害的人,并把她同她的朋友们——玛丽安和我——分开。这就是为什么我选择伦敦一处既贫穷又拥挤的地方住下来,因为在一个人来人往的地方比较容易躲藏。

我们的生活很快形成了一个较为固定的模式——工作,留意我们的敌人,照顾劳拉。我们细心地照顾她,保护她,帮助她慢慢地恢复正常的思维和自信心。

与此同时,玛丽安和我开始了紧张的调查。我们仔细研究克尔先生记录的证词——分别来自医生以及伯爵家的仆人和厨师。我弄到了一份格莱德夫人的死亡证明。玛丽安给米切尔森太太写信,米切尔森太太回信说记不清劳拉离开布莱克沃特庄园的确切日期了,也记不清福斯科夫人来信通知他们劳拉死讯的具体时间了,那封信没有注明日期。

我还安排与克尔先生见面,请求他的帮助。听我把前因后果一一讲完后,克尔先生摇了摇头。

“作为律师,哈特里特先生,我认为你不会赢得这场官司。当然我同意,你和哈尔库姆小姐可以证明格莱德夫人还活着,但是你没有证据。如果你能证明死亡证明上的时间比格莱德夫人去伦敦的时间,那你可能会赢这场官司。”

我要离开的时候,他交给我一封信,是要他转给玛丽安的。同时,他在回答我的提问时透露,珀西瓦尔爵士已经回到伦敦了。

在外面的街道上,我很快注意到有两个人在跟踪我。我这才意识到伯爵的人肯定一直在监视克尔先生的办公室,以防玛丽安和我会到那儿去。我绕远路回家,设法甩掉了跟踪我的人,但是这件事提醒我今后要更加小心。

我把两个人跟踪我的事告诉了玛丽安,她非常担心。我把那封信交给她,她马上就认出了写信人的笔迹。

“是福斯科伯爵写的。”


亲爱的、尊敬的女士,请不要害怕!继续同你温柔的伙伴藏好,你们就不会有事。不要试图做任何事情,不要给任何人带来威胁。我请求你们,不要强迫我采取行动。如果哈特里特先生回英国来,不要同他接触。假如他找我的麻烦,他就死定了。福斯科。


“沃尔特!”玛丽安眼里闪着愤怒的光,“如果伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士落到你的手里,而你又必须放过他们中的一个的话,一定不要放过伯爵。”

“我要留着这封信,让它到时候提醒我应该怎么做,”我说,“明天我要去一趟布莱克沃特,查一查劳拉去伦敦的日期。这是他们阴谋中的一个漏洞。”

“你是说劳拉可能是在死亡证明上的日期之后才去伦敦的?”

“没错。我想她是7月26日动身的。精神病院的院长说她是27日被送进去的。我怀疑他们是否能让劳拉昏迷超过一晚上的时间。米切尔森太太说,珀西瓦尔爵士是和劳拉同一天离开的。我要问村里的每一个人,是不是还记得珀西瓦尔爵士什么时候离开的。”

“如果这样不行呢?”

“如果不行的话,玛丽安,我就逼珀西瓦尔爵士认罪。我们用他的秘密对付他,安妮·凯瑟里克说如果他的秘密让人知道了,那他就完了。我想查出他的秘密来。那个白衣女人虽说已经死了,但是还同我们在一起,她会为我们引路的!”

11
The investigation

The story of my first enquiries in Hampshire is soon told. Not a single person in the village of Blackwater could remember exactly when Sir Percival Glyde had left. Even the gardener at the house could only say it was some time in the last ten days of July.

'So, on to the next plan,' I said to Marian back in London, 'which is to pursue the secret. I need to talk to Anne Catherick's mother, but first I must find out something about her from Mrs Clements, Anne's friend. But how do I find Mrs Clements?'

Marian had the answer to that. 'You remember the farm she and Anne stayed at near Limmeridge? We'll write to them — they might know Mrs Clements' address.'

We were lucky. The farmer's wife did know the address, and wrote back by return to tell us. It was in London, not far from our rooms, and the next morning I was knocking at the door.

Mrs Clements was anxious to know if I had brought her any news of Anne, and very sad to learn that I had not. However, she was willing to tell me everything she knew.

'After leaving Limmeridge, sir,' she said, 'Anne and I went to live in the northeast of England, and that's when Anne started to suffer from heart disease. She wasn't at all well, but she insisted on travelling to Hampshire, because she wanted to speak to Lady Glyde. So we went there and stayed in a village near Blackwater — not too close as Anne was so frightened of Sir Percival.

'Each time Anne went to the lake to try to speak to Lady Glyde, I followed her at a distance. But the long walks made her so exhausted that she became ill again, so finally I went to the lake in her place to meet Lady Glyde. She didn't come that day, but a very fat man came instead with a message from her. The message was that we should return to London immediately, as Sir Percival would certainly find us if we stayed longer. Lady Glyde was going to London herself very soon and if we sent her our address, she would contact us.'

'But she didn't, did she?' I said, thinking how cleverly Count Fosco had lied to this kind woman.

'No, sir. I found lodgings and sent the address to Lady Glyde, but after two weeks we'd still heard nothing. Then one day a lady called in a cab. She said she came from Lady Glyde, who was staying at a hotel and wanted to arrange an interview with Anne. I agreed to go with this lady to make the arrangement, leaving Anne alone in our lodgings. But it was a wicked plot, sir. On the way the lady stopped the cab, saying she just had to collect something from a shop and would I wait for a few minutes. She never came back, sir. I waited for some time, and then I hurried home — and found Anne gone. Just disappeared.'

I asked Mrs Clements to describe this 'lady', and it seemed clear from her description that it was Madame Fosco. So I now knew how the Count had got Anne Catherick to London and separated her from Mrs Clements.

'I never found out what happened to Anne,' Mrs Clements said sadly. 'I made enquiries. I even wrote to her mother, but she didn't know anything. I miss poor Anne so much. She was like a daughter to me, you see, sir.'

'And I'm sure you were a kind mother to her,' I said. 'A better mother than her own mother.'

'That wasn't difficult,' said Mrs Clements. 'Mrs Catherick is a hard woman. She seemed to hate the child, and was only too pleased when I offered to bring her up. Then one day she took Anne to Limmeridge to stay with a sister, and after that she kept Anne from me. I didn't see Anne again till she escaped from the asylum — with your help, sir. And then she was always talking about a secret her mother had which could ruin Sir Percival. But you know, sir, I don't think Anne really knew what this secret was. If she had known, I'm sure she would have told me.'

I had wondered about that myself, and now I tried to turn the conversation on to Mrs Catherick.

'Did you know Mrs Catherick before Anne was born?'

'Yes, for about four months. We were neighbours in Welmingham. Mr and Mrs Catherick had just got married, and Mr Catherick had a job as clerk at Welmingham church. Before that, Mrs Catherick had been a servant at a large house. She was a selfish, heartless woman, and treated her poor husband very badly. Before long, there was a lot of talk about her and a young gentleman, who was staying at a hotel nearby. And Mr Catherick told my husband that he'd found expensive presents, gold rings and suchlike, hidden in his wife's drawer.'

'And who was this gentleman?' I asked.

'You know him, sir. And so did my poor dear Anne.'

'Sir Percival Glyde?' My heart began to beat faster. Was I getting close to the secret?

'That's right. His father had recently died abroad, and Sir Percival had just arrived in the neighbourhood. People thought, you see, that maybe Mrs Catherick had known Sir Percival before, and had married Mr Catherick just to save her reputation, because of, well, you know... Anyway, one night Mr Catherick found his wife whispering with Sir Percival outside the vestry of the church. They had a fight, but Sir Percival beat him and Mr Catherick left the village, never to return again. And in spite of all the talk in the village, Mrs Catherick stayed. She said she was innocent and that no one would drive her away. But most people thought that the money she lived on came from Sir Percival.'

The secret was here somewhere. But where? That Sir Percival was Anne's father was hardly a secret since everyone already thought that. No, there was another mystery somewhere.

'And what did you think, Mrs Clements?'

'Well, sir, if you worked out time and place, it was obvious that Mr Catherick wasn't Anne's father. But Anne wasn't at all like Sir Percival; and nor was she like her mother.'

I wondered about the house where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Perhaps I would make some enquiries later.

'You've been very kind, Mrs Clements,' I said, 'answering all my questions. One last request. Will you tell me Mrs Catherick's address? I have to find out this secret, and only she can tell me.'

Mrs Clements gave me the address, but shook her head. 'Take care, sir. She's an awful woman. You don't know her as I do.'

*  *  *

Back at our rooms I announced my intention to Marian of going to Welmingham. She was very uneasy about the plan.

'Are you sure it's wise, Walter? Sir Percival is a violent man.'

'I'm more afraid for you and Laura,' I said, 'left alone in London, with the Count as your enemy.'

We arranged to write to each other every day; and if no letter came from her, I would take the first train back to London.

*  *  *

Three days later I was standing in Mrs Catherick's sitting room, face to face with a grey-haired woman, dressed in black silk. Her dark eyes looked straight at me with a hard, cold stare.

'You say you have come to speak to me about my daughter,' she said. 'Please say what you have to say.'

Her voice was as hard as the expression in her eyes. She pointed to a chair, and looked at me carefully as I sat down.

'You know,' I said, 'that your daughter is lost?'

'I know that perfectly well.'

'Don't you worry that she might not be just lost, but that she might have met with her death?'

'Yes. Have you come to tell me that she is dead?'

'I have.'

'Why?'

She asked that extraordinary question without the slightest change in her voice, face, or manner. I might have been talking about the death of a cat in the street.

'I thought Anne's mother might be interested in knowing if she was alive or dead.'

'Just so,' she said. 'But what is your interest in her, or in me? Have you no other reason for coming here?'

'Yes, I do,' I said. 'Your daughter's death has caused someone I love to be harmed — by a man called Sir Percival Glyde.'

She did not react at all at the mention of his name.

'I want to make him confess to his crime. You know certain things about him from the time when your husband was the church clerk. I want you to tell me about them.'

At last I saw the anger burning in her eyes.

'What do you know about those events?'

'Everything that Mrs Clements could tell me.'

'Mrs Clements is a foolish woman.' She bit back her anger, and her lips curled in an unpleasant little smile. 'Ah, I begin to understand. You want your revenge on Sir Percival Glyde, and you want my help. That's why you've come here. Well, you don't know me. I've spent years getting back my reputation in this village. Now everyone respects me. I won't help you.'

'If you're afraid of Sir Percival, that's quite understandable,' I said. 'He's a powerful man, and comes from a great family —'

To my amazement, she suddenly burst out laughing.

'From a great family! Yes, indeed! Especially from his mother's side,' she said with disgust.

Whatever did she mean by that, I wondered?

'The secret between you and Sir Percival was not guilty love,' I insisted. 'It was something else that brought you and him to those stolen meetings outside the vestry of the church.'

As I said the words 'vestry of the church', I saw a wave of terror pass across her face.

'Go!' she said. 'And never come back. Unless' — and she gave a slow, cruel smile — 'unless you bring news of his death.'

*  *  *

It was now late, and I made my way to the nearest hotel. There was much to think about. Why should mention of the church vestry cause terror? Why the disgust at Sir Percival's family, especially his mother? Was there something unusual about his parents' marriage? Perhaps the local marriage register was kept in the vestry of Welmingham church...

The next day I went to the church. I had been aware of being followed the previous evening, and now I caught sight of the same two men I had seen outside Mr Kyrle's office in London. It seemed that Sir Percival had expected me to visit Mrs Catherick, and was now expecting me to visit Welmingham church — proof, surely, that my investigation was going in the right direction.

I found the church clerk, who fetched his keys and took me to the vestry. It could only be entered from the outside of the church, and the clerk had great difficulty opening the lock, which was very old. Once inside, I asked to see the marriage register. It was kept in a cupboard which could easily be forced open.

'Is that a safe enough place to keep the register?' I said.

'Safe enough,' the clerk said. 'A copy is kept by a lawyer in the next village — Mr Wansborough's office in Knowlesbury.'

I worked backwards in the register from Sir Percival's year of birth and there, under September of the previous year, squashed into a small space at the bottom of the page, was the record of the marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster of Knowlesbury. Just the usual information. Nothing apparently peculiar about Sir Percival's mother. The secret seemed further away than ever.

But on to Knowlesbury, and Mr Wansborough's office — a five-mile walk, but possible to get there and back by the end of the day. It was worth checking the copy of the register, and perhaps the lawyer would know something that might be useful.


pursue v. continue to investigate 继续调查

lodgings n. rooms rented for lodging in 租用的房子

bring up raise 抚养

heartless adj. unfeeling, pitiless 无情的

vestry n. a room or building attached to a church for keeping vestments in 教堂的法衣室

react v. undergo a change or show behaviour due to some influence 反应

bite back restrain 克制

burst out suddenly begin 突然做……

disgust n. strong aversion 不屑

make one's way to go to 到……去

catch sight of see, find 看到

11.调查

下面是我在汉普郡初步调查的情况。布莱克沃特村没有一个人记得珀西瓦尔爵士离开的确切时间。园丁也仅仅记得大概是7月下旬。

“那么,开始下一步行动吧,”回到伦敦我对玛丽安说,“查出那个秘密来。我需要找到安妮·凯瑟里克的母亲,但我必须首先找到安妮的朋友克莱门茨太太,从她那里了解一些情况。可怎么才能找到克莱门茨太太?”

玛丽安想出了办法:“还记得克莱门茨太太和安妮在利默里奇附近住过的农场吗?我们给他们写信,也许他们知道克莱门茨太太的地址。”

我们很幸运,农场主的妻子真的知道地址,她回信告诉了我们。她就住在伦敦,离我们住的地方不远。第二天上午,我就找到了那个地方,敲响了房门。

克莱门茨太太急切地想知道我是否带来了安妮的消息,当我告诉她没有的时候,她非常难过。不过,她愿意把她知道的一切都告诉我。

“离开利默里奇以后,先生,”她对我说,“安妮和我去了英国东北部,这个时候安妮得了心脏病。她身体很不好,但她坚持到汉普郡去见格莱德夫人。所以我们就去了那儿,住在布莱克沃特附近的一个村子里——那地方离布莱克沃特不是很近,因为安妮非常害怕珀西瓦尔爵士。

“每一次安妮到湖边去见格莱德夫人,我都在远处跟着她。但是走那么远的路让她非常疲劳,结果她又病了。最后我代替她到湖边去见格莱德夫人。那天格莱德夫人没有来,来的是一个很胖的男人,他捎来了格莱德夫人的口信,让我们赶快回伦敦,因为如果在这里呆久了,珀西瓦尔爵士肯定会发现我们。格莱德夫人自己很快也会到伦敦去,如果我们把地址给她,她会跟我们联系。”

“但是她没跟你们联系,对吗?”我问,心想伯爵对这个善良的女人说的谎真是高明啊。

“没错,先生。我找到了住处,把地址寄给了格莱德夫人,可是两个星期过去了,我们没收到任何回音。后来,有一天一位夫人乘马车到这里来。她说她从格莱德夫人那儿来,格莱德夫人住在一家旅店,想安排同安妮见面。我答应同那位夫人去安排见面的事,把安妮一个人留在住处。可这是个恶毒的阴谋,先生。走到半路,那位夫人说要去商店取点儿东西,让我等几分钟。她去了就再没回来,先生。我等了好一阵子,然后赶忙回家——回来后却发现安妮不见了。就这么消失了。”

我让克莱门茨太太描述一下那位“夫人”的样子,根据她的描述,那人很显然是福斯科夫人。现在我明白伯爵是怎么把安妮·凯瑟里克弄到伦敦,又怎么把她和克莱门茨太太分开的了。

“我不知道安妮到底出了什么事,”克莱门茨太太伤心地说,“我调查过,甚至给她母亲写过信,但是她什么也不知道。我现在非常想念可怜的安妮。你知道,她就像我的女儿一样,先生。”

“我相信你是她的好母亲,”我说,“比她的亲生母亲还要亲。”

“那倒没什么难的,”克莱门茨太太说,“凯瑟里克太太是一个铁石心肠的女人。她好像仇视这个孩子,我提出抚养这孩子时,她非常高兴。后来有一天她把安妮带到利默里奇同她的妹妹住在一起。再后来,她就不让我见安妮了。安妮从精神病院逃出来之前,我就再没见到过她。她逃出来还是你帮的忙呢,先生。从那以后,她—直说她母亲知道一个秘密,那秘密会毁了珀西瓦尔爵士。但是,先生,我觉得安妮并不真的知道那个秘密。如果她真的知道,我相信她早就告诉我了。”

我自己也想过这个问题。但是,现在我努力把话题转向凯瑟里克太太。

“安妮出生前,你就认识凯瑟里克太太吗?”

“认识,大概有四个月的时间。我们在韦明翰是邻居。当时凯瑟里克夫妇刚刚结婚,凯瑟里克先生在韦明翰教堂当职员。结婚前,凯瑟里克太太在一个大户人家当仆人。她是一个自私、狠心的女人,对她可怜的丈夫非常不好。不久,关于她和住在附近旅店的一个年轻人有了很多风言风语。凯瑟里克先生对我丈夫说,他发现他妻子的抽屉里藏着许多贵重礼物,金戒指什么的。”

“那个年轻人是谁?”我问。

“你认识他,先生。我可怜的安妮也认识他。”

“珀西瓦尔爵士?”我的心跳开始加速。我是不是接近那个秘密了?

“就是他。他父亲那时在国外去世,珀西瓦尔爵士刚刚到这里来。大家都说很可能凯瑟里克太太早就认识珀西瓦尔爵士,她和凯瑟里克先生结婚就是想挽救自己的名声,因为,嗯,你知道……不管怎样,一天晚上,凯瑟里克先生看到他妻子和珀西瓦尔爵士在教堂的法衣室外窃窃私语。他们打了起来。珀西瓦尔爵士打了他。之后,凯瑟里克先生就离开了那个村子,再也没回来。尽管村子里流言满天飞,凯瑟里克太太还是一直住在那里。”她说自己是清白的,谁也赶不走她。不过大多数人都认为她是靠珀西瓦尔爵士的钱维持生活的。”

秘密就在这里。可是到底是什么呢?珀西瓦尔爵士是安妮的父亲,这已经不是什么秘密了,大家早就这么想了。不对,这里一定还有隐情。

“那你怎么看,克莱门茨太太?”

“嗯,如果从时间和地点来看,很明显凯瑟里克先生不是安妮的父亲。但是,安妮一点儿也不像珀西瓦尔爵士,也不像她母亲。”

我想到凯瑟里克太太当仆人的那家,也许什么时候我可以到那儿调查一下。

“真是太谢谢了,克莱门茨太太,”我说,“你回答了我那么多问题。最后我还有个请求,你能告诉我凯瑟里克太太的地址吗?我必须查清楚这个秘密,只有她可以告诉我。”

克莱门茨太太把地址给了我,但是摇了摇头,“你要小心,先生。她是一个很可怕的女人,你没有我了解她。”

*  *  *

回到住处,我把要去韦明翰的想法告诉了玛丽安,她非常担优。

“你觉得这样好吗,沃尔特?珀西瓦尔爵士是个心狠手辣的人。”

“我更担心的是你和劳拉,”我说,“就你们两个留在伦敦,还要对付伯爵。”

我们商量好每天都互相写信,如果没有收到玛丽安的来信,我就搭乘最早的一班火车回伦敦来。

*  *  *

三天后,我已经站在凯瑟里克太太的客厅里了。我面前是一个头发灰白的女人,穿着黑色绸衣。她的一双黑眼睛冷冷地盯着我。

“你说你来跟我谈我女儿的事,”她开口说,“有什么话就请讲吧。”

她的声音像她的眼神一样冷。她指了指一把椅子,我坐下以后,她开始仔细地打量我。

“你知道,”我说,“你女儿失踪了吗?”

“我非常清楚。”

“难道你不担心她可能不光是失踪了,有可能她已经死了?”

“我想过。那你是来告诉我,她已经死了?”

“是的。”

“为什么?”

提出这样荒谬的问题,她的声音、表情和举止居然没有任何变化,就好像我刚才谈的是街上死了一只猫。

“我原以为安妮的母亲会关心她的生死。”

“就为了这个啊,”她说,“但是你为什么对她或我感兴趣呢?你到这里来没有其他原因?”

“有,”我回答,“你女儿的死使我所爱的人受到了伤害——是一个叫珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士的人干的。”

我提到了珀西瓦尔的名字,她一点儿反应都没有。

“我要让他承认他所犯下的罪行,你丈夫在教堂当职员的时候,你就知道了他的一些事,我希望你把所知道的告诉我。”

我终于在她眼里看到了愤怒的目光。

“你是怎么知道这些事的?”

“克莱门茨太太把她知道的都告诉我了。”

“克莱门茨太太是个愚蠢的女人。”她压下怒火,双唇勾起一丝恶意的微笑。“呵,我开始懂了。要向珀西瓦尔爵士报仇,需要帮忙。这就是你来这里的原因。你不了解我。我在这个村子住了这么多年,才挽回我的名誉。现在大家都很尊敬我,我不会帮你的。”

“如果你害怕珀西瓦尔爵士,那是可以理解的,”我说,“他是个有权势的人,出身名门——”

令我吃惊的是,她突然大笑起来。

“出身名门!是,没错!尤其是他母亲那一边。”她不屑地说。

她这话是什么意思?我不明白。

“你和他之间的秘密不是什么婚外情,”我接着说,“是别的事情使得你们在教堂的法衣室外秘密见面。”

在提到“教堂的法衣室”时,我注意到她的脸上掠过一阵恐惧。

“滚出去!”她大声喊着,“再也不要回来。除非”——她脸上慢慢露出残忍的笑意——“除非你来告诉我他死了。”

*  *  *

天色已晚,我朝最近的旅店走去。有许多问题需要思考。为什么提到教堂的法衣室她就害怕了?为什么她瞧不起珀西瓦尔爵士的家庭,特别是他的母亲?难道他父母的婚姻有什么特别的地方?也许当地的婚姻登记记录就存放在韦明翰教堂的法衣室……

第二天我去了教堂。我已经注意到前一天晚上有人跟踪我,这会儿我又看到在伦敦克尔先生办公室外见到的那两个人在跟着我。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士已经料到我要来见凯瑟里克太太,现在又料到我来韦明翰教堂——这些恰好证明我的调查方向是正确的。

我找到了教堂职员,他找来钥匙,带我来到教堂的法衣室。法衣室只能从教堂外面进去,职员费了好大劲儿才打开那把旧锁。进去以后,我说要看看婚姻登记记录。那些记录放在一个柜子里,柜子的门很容易被撬开。

“婚姻登记记录放在这里安全吗?”我问。

“很安全,”职员回答,“另一个副本存放在邻村的律师那里,就是万斯伯勒先生的办公室,在诺雷斯伯里。”

我从珀西瓦尔爵士出生那年的记录开始往前面查,在前一年的9月,有一页在靠下的角落里记着费利克斯·格莱德爵士和诺雷斯伯里的塞西莉亚结婚。只是非常一般的记录,看不出珀西瓦尔爵士的母亲有什么特殊的地方。秘密好像比以前离我更远了。

接下来,我奔赴诺雷斯伯里万斯伯勒先生的办公室——大约有5英里的路程,但是在天黑前赶回来还是可能的。很有必要查看一下记录的副本,也许律师会知道一些有用的信息。

12
The secret

Sir Percival's spies attacked me on the road to Knowlesbury. One of them came up beside me, and bumped into me with his shoulder. I pushed him away, hard, and he immediately shouted for help. The other man ran up and the two of them held me between them. The first man accused me of attacking him, and they said they would take me to the police station in the town.

What could I do? I couldn't fight both of them and hope to get away, so I had to go with them.

At the police station the first man accused me of a violent attack, and the second man said he was a witness. I was locked up until the next magistrate's court, which was three days away. I could be released on bail, I was told, but how could I, a total stranger in the town, find a responsible person willing to pay money for my temporary freedom? The whole plan was now clear — to get me out of the way for three days, while Sir Percival did whatever was necessary to prevent his secret being discovered.

At first I was too angry to think clearly. Then I remembered Mr Dawson, the doctor. I had been to his house on my previous visit to Blackwater, so I knew his address. I wrote him a letter, explaining what had happened and begging for his help, and then asked for a messenger to deliver it. Two hours later the good doctor appeared, paid the required money and I was set free.

There was no time to lose. The news of my being free would doubtless reach Sir Percival within hours. I hurried to the lawyer's office, where I asked if I could see the copy of the Welmingham marriage register. Mr Wansborough was a pleasant man and agreed to show me the copy. In fact, he was quite amused. No one had asked to see it since his father (now dead) had locked it away in the office more than twenty years before.

As I opened the register, my hands trembled. I turned the pages to the year and month. I found the names I remembered just before, and just after, the marriage of Sir Percival's parents. And between these entries, at the bottom of the page...?

Nothing! The marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster was not there! I looked again, to be sure. No, nothing. Not a doubt about it. Sir Percival must have seen the space in the Welmingham register and written in the marriage himself.

I had never once suspected this. He was not Sir Percival Glyde at all! His parents had not been married, so he had no right to the inheritance of Blackwater Park, no right to the rank of Baronet, no right even to the name of Glyde! This was his secret — and it was now mine to use against him!

The copy of the register would be safe enough in the lawyer's office, but I decided to go back to Welmingham and make a copy of the false record from the church register. It was dark now and I ran all the way to the church clerk's house. I knocked on his door, but when he appeared, he looked suspicious and confused.

'Where are the keys?' he asked. 'Have you taken them?'

'What keys do you mean?' I said. 'I've just this minute arrived from Knowlesbury.'

'The keys of the vestry,' he said. 'The keys are gone! Someone's broken in and taken the keys.'

'Get a light,' I said, 'and let's go to the vestry. Quick!'

We ran to the church. On the path we passed a man who looked at us with frightened eyes. He seemed to be a servant of some kind. We did not stop to question him, but ran on.

As we came in sight of the vestry, I saw a high window brilliantly lit from within. There was a strange smell on the night air, a sound of cracking wood, and the light grew brighter and brighter. I ran to the door and put my hand on it. The vestry was on fire!

I heard the key working violently in the lock — I heard a man's voice behind the door, raised in terror, screaming for help.

'Oh, my God!' said the servant, who had followed us, 'it's Sir Percival!'

'God help him!' said the clerk. 'He's damaged the lock.'

*  *  *

At that moment I forget the man's crimes and see only the horror of his situation. Several people are now running towards the church and I call to them to help me break down the door. We look desperately for something to use, and at last someone finds a long heavy piece of wood.

By now the flames are shooting up out of the window, and the screams have stopped. We get the wood into position and run at the door with it. Again, and again! At last the door crashes down, but a wave of heat hits our faces and drives us back — and in the room we see nothing but a sheet of living fire.

*  *  *

The church itself was saved as the fire engine arrived soon afterwards and managed to put out the fire before it spread. They carried out the body of Sir Percival Glyde and laid it on the wet ground. I looked down on his dead face and this was how, for the first and last time, I saw him.

He must have heard that I was free and on my way back to Welmingham, so he hurried to the church, stealing the keys and locking himself in to prevent anyone coming in and finding him. All he could do was tear the page out of the register and destroy it. If the false record no longer existed, I could produce no evidence to threaten him with. He must have dropped his lamp by accident, which started the fire. Then in his urgency to get out, the lock had become damaged and the key unmoveable.

I could not leave the town. There would be a legal enquiry into the accident the next day, which I had to attend, and in any case I had to report back to the police station in Knowlesbury. I returned to the hotel and wrote to Marian, telling her everything that had happened and warning her to keep the news from Laura for the moment. With Sir Percival's death, my hopes of establishing Laura's identity had also died, and I could see no way forward at present.

The next day an envelope with my name on was delivered to the hotel. The letter inside was neither dated nor signed, but before I had read the first sentence, I knew who had written it — Mrs Catherick.


Sir — I thought you were my enemy. Now that he is dead, because of you, I consider you my friend. To thank you for what you have done, I will now tell you the things you wanted to know about my private life.

Twenty-three years ago I was a beautiful young woman living in Welmingham, married to a fool of a husband. I also knew a gentleman — I shall not call him by his name. Why should I? It was not his own. I was born with expensive tastes. This man gave me expensive presents. Naturally he wanted something in return — all men do. And what did he want? Just a little thing. The key to the church vestry, when my husband's back was turned. I liked my presents, so I got him the key. I watched him in the vestry without his knowing, and saw what he was doing. I did not know then how serious a crime it was. I said I would not tell anyone about the marriage he had added to the register if he told me about his private life. He agreed — why, you will see in a moment.

He said that he only found out that his parents were not married after his mother's death. His father confessed to it and promised to do what he could for his son. But he died having done nothing. The son came to England and took possession of the property. There was no one to say he could not. In fact, the right person to claim the property was a distant relation away at sea. However, to borrow money on the property, he needed a certificate of his parents' marriage. This was a problem — a problem which brought him to Welmingham.

As his parents had mostly lived abroad and had had no social life in England, who was to say (the priest being dead) that a private marriage had not taken place at Welmingham church? His plan was to tear out a page from the marriage register in the year before his birth and destroy it. Then he would tell his lawyers in London to get the necessary certificate, innocently referring them to the date on the page that was gone. At least no one could say that his parents were not married.

However, when he saw there was a small space at the bottom of the page in the right year, he changed his plan and took the opportunity to write in the marriage himself. It took him some time, though, to practise the handwriting and to mix the right colour of ink, so that it looked the same.

After my husband caught me talking secretly to him and after their fight together, I asked my fine gentleman to clear my name and to say there had been nothing between us. But he refused. He wanted everyone to believe something false, so that they would never suspect the truth. He then told me that the punishment for his crime, and anyone who helped him, was life in prison. He frightened me! If I spoke out, I was just as lost as he was. He then agreed to make me a yearly payment if I said nothing and stayed in Welmingham, where he could always find me and where there was no danger of my making friends and talking. This was hard, but I accepted.

Many years later, when my daughter was with me at home, I received a letter from him which made me very angry. I lost control of myself and said, in her presence, that 'I could destroy him if I let out his secret'. Then one day he came to our house and called her a fool. Immediately she shouted, 'Ask for my pardon, now, or I'll let out your secret and destroy your life. 'My own words! He went white. Then he swore at us. It ended, as you know, by his shutting her up in an asylum. I tried to tell him she knew nothing. But he did not believe me. My daughter knew that she had frightened him and that he was responsible for shutting her up because he believed she knew his secret. That's why she hated him. But she never to her dying day knew what his secret actually was.

I will end by saying that you insult me if you think my husband was not my daughter's father. Please do not ask further questions about that. To protect myself, I mention no names in this letter, nor do I sign it.


magistrate n. an official conducting a court for minor cases 法官

bail n. money left with a court of law to prove that a prisoner will return when their trial starts 保释金

entry n. an item 条目

brilliantly adv. very brightly 非常亮

produce v. bring forward for consideration or inspection 拿出

12.秘密

在去往诺雷斯伯里的路上,珀西瓦尔爵士的人向我发起了攻击。其中一个走到我旁边,用肩膀撞我。我用力把他推开,他马上大喊起来。另一个人跑过来,他们两个把我夹在了中间。第一个人指责我打他,他们说要把我带到镇上的警察局去。

我能怎么办呢?我没办法打倒他们两个再逃走,现在只得跟他们走了。

到了警察局,第一个人说我打他,另一个人说他是证人。我被关了起来,等着三天后法官开庭审理。他们告诉我可以保释,可是我在这里一个人也不认识,怎么可能找到一个愿意负责的人出钱让我获得暂时的自由呢?他们的整个计划很清楚——让我消失三天,珀西瓦尔爵士就利用这段时间尽一切可能保证他的秘密不被发现。

刚开始,我非常气愤,头脑中一片混乱。后来我想起了道森先生,那位医生。上一次我去布莱克沃特的时候到过他家,所以我知道他的地址。我给他写了封信,告诉他出了什么事,请求他来帮我,然后找了一个送信的帮我把信送走。两个小时后,好心的医生来了,为我交了保释金,我自由了。

必须抓紧时间,因为我被释放的消息肯定几个小时之内就会传到珀西瓦尔爵士那里。我赶到律师的办公室,请求看一下韦明翰的结婚登记记录。万斯伯勒先生是个和气的人,他同意让我看副本。其实,应该说他很高兴,因为自从他父亲(现在已经去世了)20多年前把文件锁在办公室后,从未有人要求查看过。

我翻开记录副本的时候双手在颤抖。我找到了珀西瓦尔爵士父母结婚的年份和月份,以及在他们之前和之后结婚的男女方姓名记录。但是,在这些条目之间,在那一页的底下……?

什么也没有!费利克斯·格莱德爵士和塞西莉亚·埃尔斯特的婚姻根本就没有记录!为了保险起见,我又看了一遍。没有,什么也没有,毫无疑问。珀西瓦尔爵士可能在韦明翰的记录中看到了那个空白,然后自己填上了那条记录。

我从未怀疑到这一点。他根本就不是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士,他的父母没有结婚,他根本没有权利继承布莱克沃特庄园和爵位,甚至根本无权姓格莱德!这就是他的秘密——现在我要利用这个秘密来对付他!

婚姻登记的副本放在律师的办公室很安全,我决定返回韦明翰,复制一份教堂的假记录。天已经黑了,我一路跑到教堂职员的住处。我敲了门,职员出来的时候,脸上布满了疑虑。

“钥匙在哪儿?”他问我,“你把钥匙拿走了吗?”

“什么钥匙?”我说,“我刚从诺雷斯伯里过来。”

“法衣室的钥匙,”他说,“钥匙不见了!有人进来偷走了钥匙。”

“拿上灯,”我说,“我们去法衣室,快!”

我们向教堂跑去。路上碰见一个人,似乎是个仆人,他惊慌地看了看我们。我们没有停下来问他任何问题,而是继续向前跑。

当我们看到法衣室的时候,我发现从一个高处的窗户里发出很亮的光,夜晚的空气中有一股奇怪的味道,可以听到木头劈啪作响的声音,那光变得越来越亮。我跑到法衣室的门口,用手摸了摸门。法衣室起火了!

我听到钥匙在锁里使劲转动的声音——我听到门后有人害怕地高声喊救命。

“噢,上帝!”跟着我们跑过来的仆人说,“是珀西瓦尔爵士!”

“上帝啊,救救他!”职员说,“他把锁弄坏了。”

alt

*  *  *

这个时候,我忘记了这个人的罪恶,只想到他现在的危急处境。有几个人正朝教堂跑过来,我叫他们帮我把门弄开。我们到处找能弄开门的东西,最后有人找来一根很粗的长木头。

这时,火焰已经窜出了窗户,呼叫声已听不见了。我们抬着长木头,一次又一次朝门撞过去。最后门被撞倒了,热浪从屋里冲出来,使我们不得不往后退去——屋里除了一团火什么也看不见。

*  *  *

救火车很快赶到,没等火势蔓延就把火扑灭了,教堂本身没有受到破坏。人们把珀西瓦尔爵士的尸体抬了出来,放在潮湿的地上。我看了看他的脸,这是我第一次也是最后一次看到他。

他一定是听说我被放出来,而且正赶回韦明翰,所以急忙赶到教堂,偷了钥匙,把自己锁在屋子里,不让任何人进去发现他。他唯一能做的就是把那一页从登记簿上撕下来销毁。如果假记录没有了,我就拿不出证据来威胁他。他可能不小心把灯掉到地上,引起了大火。然后,他急着要出来,匆忙中弄坏了锁,钥匙转不动了。

我现在还不能离开这里。转天会有一个事故的法律调查,我必须参加。而且不管怎样,我还得向诺雷斯伯里的警察局报到。我回到旅店,写信给玛丽安,告诉她这里发生的事情,提醒她先不要把这个消息告诉劳拉。珀西瓦尔爵士死了,我证明劳拉身份的希望也不复存在,现在我不知下一步该怎么办。

第二天,一个写着我名字的信封被送到了旅店。里面的信既没有日期,也没有署名。但是还没看完第一句,我就知道是谁写的信了——凯瑟里克太太。

先生——我原以为你是我的敌人。现在因为你,他已经死了,我认为你是我的朋友。为感谢你的所作所为,我现在把你想知道的我的私事告诉你。

23年前,我是一个年轻漂亮的姑娘,住在韦明翰,嫁给了一位傻乎乎的丈夫。我还结识了一位绅士——我不会称呼他的名字。为什么要那样叫他?那不是他的名字。我生来就喜欢贵重的东西,这个人送给我许多贵重礼物,当然他是需要回报的——男人都是这样。这个男人要的是什么?很简单的一样东西。教堂法衣室的钥匙,当然要趁我丈夫不在的时候。我喜欢那些礼物,所以给他弄到了钥匙。我盯着他,看他在法衣室干什么,他并没发觉。当时我不知道那是多么严重的罪行。我跟他说,要是他告诉我他的私事,我不会告诉任何人他擅自增加结婚记录的事。他答应了——至于为什么,你往下看就明白了。

他说在他母亲死后,他才知道他的父母并没有结婚。他父亲承认了这件事,答应尽力为他儿子做些什么。可是他什么都没来得及做,就死去了。他的儿子来到英国继承了遗产。没人说他不能继承,实际上,真正应该继承遗产的是一个正在出海的远亲。然而,要想用那笔财产去借钱,他需要一份父母的结婚证明。这是个问题,为解决这个问题,他来到了韦明翰。

因为他父母大部分时间生活在国外,在英国没什么交际,所以谁会说(牧师已经死了)韦明翰教堂没举行过一场私下的婚礼呢?他的计划是把他出生前那一年的婚姻登记页撕下来销毁。然后,他就会告诉伦敦的律师们去取必要的证明文件,并假装不知情地把那个已经不存在的登记页上的日期告诉他们。至少谁也不会说他父母没结婚。

但是,他发现那年的登记页上靠下面有一点空白,于是改变了主意,趁机把他父母的婚姻写了进去。当然,他也颇费了些时间去模仿登记用的笔迹,还有配制合适的墨水颜色,让这条记录看起来跟其他的没有差别。

我丈夫看到我和他密谈,他们两个打了一架以后,我叫他帮我洗清名声,告诉别人我们之间什么也没发生,但是他拒绝了。他希望大家都相信并没有发生的事情,这样一来,人们就不会去想真相如何了。他还跟我说如果他的罪行败露,他以及帮过他的人都将被终生监禁。他让我害怕极了!如果我说出他的秘密,那我和他都完了。他答应每年支付我一笔钱,条件是我保持沉默,继续住在韦明翰,让他随时可以找到我,也免得我与人交朋友,然后乱讲话。虽说条件很苛刻,我还是答应了。

很多年以后,那时我女儿同我在一起,我收到他的一封信把我惹恼了。我无法控制自己,当着女儿的面说:“我把他的秘密说出去就能毁了他。”后来有一天,他来我家,管我女儿叫傻瓜,她一下子喊了起来:“赶快请求我原谅你,不然我就把你的秘密说出去,毁了你。”完全是我说过的话!他的脸一下子变白了。他向我们破口大骂。最后,你知道,他把她关进了精神病院。我试图告诉他,她什么也不知道。可是他不相信我。我女儿明白她使他害怕了,是他把她关进了精神病院,因为他认为她知道了他的秘密。这就是为什么她那么恨他。但是,她其实到死也不知道那秘密到底是什么。

最后我要说的是,如果你认为我丈夫不是我女儿的父亲,你就是污辱我。请不要多问了。为了保护我自己,信中没有提到任何名字,我也不会署名。

13
The threat

Mrs Catherick's extraordinary and shameless letter filled me with disgust. My interest in Sir Percival Glyde's crime was now at an end, but I decided to keep the letter in case it might help me find out who Anne's father really was.

Later in the morning I went to the legal enquiry into Sir Percival's death. I was only asked to say what had happened. I was not asked how I thought the keys had been taken, how the fire had been caused, or why Sir Percival had gone into the vestry. As no one could explain any of these things, the verdict at the end of the enquiry was 'death by accident'.

Afterwards, a gentleman who was also at the enquiry walked back to the hotel with me. He had heard from Sir Percival's lawyer that a distant relation abroad would now inherit Blackwater Park. This was obviously the person who should have inherited it twenty-three years before. If I made Sir Percival's crime public, it would be to no one's advantage now. If I kept the secret, the true character of the man who had cheated Laura into marrying him would remain hidden. And for her sake, I wished to keep it hidden.

I still could not leave Hampshire, as I had to report to the police station in Knowlesbury the next day. I spent another night at the hotel and in the morning went to the post office to collect the letter from Marian. As promised, we had written to each other every day, and Marian's letters had been full of cheerful news. This morning's letter was short, and terrified me.


Come back as soon as you can. We have had to move. Come to Gower's Walk, Fulham (number five). I will look out for you. Don't be alarmed about us, we are both safe and well. But come back. — Marian


What had happened? What dreadful thing had Count Fosco done while I was away? In spite of my anxiety, I had to wait. I paid my bill at the hotel and took a cab to Knowlesbury.

At the police station, as I expected, no one appeared to continue the action against me and I was allowed to go. Half an hour later I was on the train back to London.

I got to Gower's Walk in Fulham at about nine o'clock. Both Laura and Marian came to the door to let me in. Laura was much brighter and happier, full of plans for the future and for her drawing and painting. Marian's face was tired and anxious. I could see that she had spared Laura the knowledge of the terrible death in Welmingham and the true reason for moving to new lodgings. When Laura had left us and we could speak freely, I tried to give some expression to my feelings and told Marian how much I admired her for the courage and love she had shown.

She was too generous to listen to me, and turned the conversation to my worries.

'I'm so sorry for my letter — it must have alarmed you.'

'Yes, it did,' I admitted. 'Was I right in thinking that you moved because of a threat by Count Fosco?'

'Perfectly right,' she said. 'I saw him yesterday, and worse than that, Walter — I spoke to him.'

'Spoke to him? Did he come to the house?'

'He did. Yesterday, when I was passing the window, I saw him in the street. Then there was a knock on the door. I rushed out and there he was, dressed in black, with his smooth face and his deadly smile. I closed the door behind me so that Laura would not see or hear him.'

'What did he say?' I asked anxiously.

'He greeted me, then repeated the warning in his letter to me. He said he had not been able to prevent Sir Percival's violence towards you, and he had found out our address in order to protect his own interests. You were followed, Walter, on your return home after your first journey to Hampshire. He used this information only when he heard of Sir Percival's death, because he believed you would act against him next.'

'And he was right,' I said. 'What did he say about me?'

'He was very cool, very polite, and very threatening,' said Marian. 'He said, "Warn Mr Hartright! He has an intelligent and powerful man to deal with. Let him be content with what he has got. Say to him, if he attacks me, I will use all my power to destroy him. There is nothing I will not do. Dear lady, good morning." Then he just looked at me with his cold grey eyes, and walked away.

'I ran back inside, and told Laura we had to move. We needed a quieter neighbourhood with better air for the sake of her health. I said you'd wanted us to do that, and why didn't we do it now to surprise you when you got back. She liked that idea, and was quite happy to move. I found these lodgings through an old school friend. I did the right thing, didn't I, Walter?'

I answered her warmly and gratefully, as I really felt.

But the anxious look remained on her face, and I saw in her eyes her continuing fear of the Count's cleverness and energy.

'What do you think of his message, Walter? What do you plan to do next?'

'I decided weeks ago that Laura will be received in her uncle's house again,' I answered. 'And my decision remains the same. Count Fosco will answer for his crime to ME.'

Marian's eyes lit up. She said nothing, but I could see how strongly she supported this plan.

'I know the risks are great,' I said, 'but it must be done. I'm not foolish enough to try this before I'm well prepared. I can wait. Let him think his message has produced its effect. He will start to feel safe. Also, my position towards you and Laura ought to be a stronger one than it is now.'

'How can it be stronger?' she asked, surprised.

'Marian, I would like you to say to Laura, gently, that her husband is dead.'

'Oh, Walter, so soon? You have a reason for this, don't you?'

'Yes. I cannot speak to Laura yet. But one day, not too distant, I want to tell her that I love her.'

Marian looked at me for a time, then gave a sad, gentle smile. 'Yes, I understand. I think I owe it to her and to you, Walter, to tell her of her husband's death.'

The next day Laura knew that death had released her from her marriage, and her husband's name was never mentioned among us again.

*  *  *

Our life returned to its usual pattern, but I did not forget the Count. I discovered that he had rented his house in St John's Wood for another six months, so I was fairly sure he would still be in London, within my reach, when the time came to act.

We finally solved the puzzle of who Anne Catherick's father was. When I went again to see Mrs Clements and to tell her about Anne's death, she remembered where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Her employer had been a Mr Donthorne.

We wrote to Mr Donthorne, who replied with some very interesting information. Philip Fairlie, Laura's father, had been a great friend of his when they were young, and a frequent house guest. He was a handsome man and fond of female company. Mr Donthorne was fairly certain that Philip Fairlie had been staying at his house when Mrs Catherick was employed as a servant, in the year before Anne was born.

When Marian and I checked the dates; when we considered that Anne and Laura looked so alike; and when we took into account the fact that Laura looked very much like her father, we were in no doubt that here was the solution. Philip Fairlie was Anne's father, and so Anne was Laura's half-sister.

Now, at last, the woman in white, that strange sad shadow walking in the loneliness of the night, could rest in peace.

*  *  *

Four months passed. Laura grew stronger in body and in mind. She was almost her old self, and when we talked, it was as we used to talk at Limmeridge. If I touched her by accident, I felt my heart beating fast, and I saw the answering colour in her face.

In April, we went for a holiday at the seaside. While we were there I told Marian that when we returned to London, I was determined to force a confession from Count Fosco — to make him tell me the real date of Laura's journey to London.

'But if I am to challenge the Count, for Laura's safety, I think I should challenge him as her husband. Do you agree, Marian?'

'With every word,' she said. 'I parted you both once. Wait here, my brother, my best and dearest friend! Till Laura comes, and tells you what I have done now!'

She kissed my forehead and left the room. I waited by the window, staring out at the beach, seeing nothing, hardly able to breathe. The door opened, and Laura came in alone. When we parted at Limmeridge, she had come into the room slowly, in sorrow and hesitation. Now she ran to me, with the light of happiness shining in her face. She put her arms around me, and her sweet lips came to meet mine.

'My darling!' she whispered, 'May we say we love each other now? Oh, I am so happy at last!'

Ten days later we were even happier. We were married.


verdict n. a decision; a judgment 结论

spare somebody the knowledge of keeping somebody from knowing 不让某人知道……

deadly adj. horrible 可怕的

answer for be responsible 受到惩罚

fairly adv. to a noticeable degree 相当地

13.威胁

凯瑟里克太太奇怪而又不知羞耻的来信使我对她充满了鄙夷。现在,我对珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行已经没有兴趣了,但我还是决定留着这封信,也许它会帮我找出安妮的父亲究竟是谁。

上午晚些时候,我去参加珀西瓦尔爵士死亡的法律调查。他们只让我说说发生了什么,没有问我如何看待钥匙为什么会被拿走,火灾是怎么发生的,或者为什么珀西瓦尔爵士会进到法衣室去。没有人能够解释这些问题,所以调查的最终结论是“意外死亡”。

之后,一位也参加了调查的男子和我一起走回旅店。他从珀西瓦尔爵士的律师那里得知,一个国外的远亲现在要来继承布莱克沃特庄园。很明显,这就是23年前应该继承庄园的那个人。假如我把珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行公之于众,现在对谁都没有好处。假如我不把秘密说出去,这个欺骗劳拉与之结婚的人的真正人品就不会有人知道。但为了劳拉,我愿意保守这个秘密。

我还不能离开汉普郡,因为转天还要去诺雷斯伯里警察局。我在旅店又住了一晚。第二天一早,我去邮局取玛丽安的来信。我们按约定每天通信。玛丽安的来信一直都是好消息。今天早上的来信很短,但却令我害怕。


请尽快回来。我们不得不搬了家。到富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街(5号)来找我们。我也会留意等你。不必为我们担心,我们很安全。一定快回来。玛丽安


出了什么事?我不在的时候,福斯科伯爵又做了什么坏事?尽管非常担心,我还是得等。我付清了旅店的费用,叫了辆马车直奔诺雷斯伯里。

在警察局,不出我所料,没人来继续同我纠缠,我可以走了。半个小时后,我登上了返回伦敦的火车。

大约9点钟,我赶到了富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街。劳拉和玛丽安都到门口迎接我。劳拉的脸色比以前好多了,人也高兴多了,对将来和她的绘画有很多想法。玛丽安的脸上带着倦容和忧虑。看得出她没有把珀西瓦尔死在韦明翰的可怕消息和搬到新住处的真实原因告诉劳拉。劳拉走开以后,我们可以随便谈话了。我想告诉她我非常敬佩她的勇气和她对劳拉表现出的爱。

这位慷慨的姑娘没等我说完就把话题转到我的担忧上来了。

alt

“给你写那样的信,真是对不起——你一定很为我们担心吧。”

“是的,我的确很担心,”我说,“我猜你们搬家是由于福斯科伯爵的威胁,对吗?”

“一点儿不错,”她回答,“我昨天看见他了,更糟糕的是,沃尔特——我跟他说话了。”

“跟他说话了?他去你们的住处了?”

“是的。昨天,我从窗旁走过的时候,看见他在街上。过了一会儿,有人敲门。我马上跑过去开门,就是他,穿一身黑色衣服,光滑的脸上带着吓人的微笑。我关上了身后的门,这样劳拉就看不见他,也听不见他说话了。”

“他都说了什么?”我急切地问。

“他跟我打了招呼,然后再一次重复了他在信中对我的警告。他说他没能阻止珀西瓦尔爵士针对你的恶劣行为,他找到我们的住处是要保护他自己的利益。你第一次去汉普郡回来的时候就被跟踪了,沃尔特。他在听到珀西瓦尔爵士的死讯后才决定登门,因为他认为你下一个对付的目标就是他。”

“让他说对了,”我说,“他说我什么了?”

“他非常冷静而有礼,同时又非常具有威胁性,”玛丽安接着说,“他说,‘请警告哈特里特先生!他要对付的是一个有智慧、有权势的人。叫他对已经得到的东西知足吧。告诉他,如果他跟我对着干,我将不遗余力地干掉他。我会不择手段的。亲爱的小姐,再见。’然后,他用冷酷的灰眼睛看了看我,就走了。

“我赶忙跑进屋,跟劳拉说我们得搬家。为她的健康着想,我们需要一个更安静、空气更好的地方。我说你也希望我们搬家,为什么不现在就搬,等你回来给你一个惊喜呢。她喜欢这个主意,欢天喜地地同意了。我通过一个校友找到这个住处。我做得没错吧,沃尔特?”

我说她做得非常好,这是我的心里话。

但是,她脸上依然带着忧虑,从她的眼神里看得出,她还在害怕伯爵的精明和权势。

“沃尔特,你怎么看他的那些话?下一步你准备怎么做?”

“几星期前,我就决定让劳拉重新在她叔叔家得到应有的承认,”我回答,“现在我还是这样想的。我要让福斯科伯爵为他犯下的罪行付出代价。”

玛丽安的眼睛一亮,虽然没有说话,但是看得出她非常支持这个计划。

“我清楚这样做风险很大,”我说,“但这件事一定要做。我不会愚蠢到没做好准备就动手。我可以等。让他觉得他的话起了作用,认为已经平安无事了。另外,我跟你和劳拉的关系也该比现在更明确。”

“怎么个更明确法?”她吃惊地问。

“玛丽安,我希望你能心平气和地告诉劳拉,她丈夫已经死了。”

“噢,沃尔特,这么快就告诉她?你这样做是不是有什么原因?”

“是的,我现在还不能跟劳拉谈,但总有一天,不会太久,我会告诉她我爱她。”

玛丽安看了我一会儿,然后淡淡地、略带忧伤地笑了笑,“好吧,我明白。我想这是我欠你们的,沃尔特,我会把她丈夫的死讯告诉她。”

第二天,劳拉知道她丈夫死了,她也从这段婚姻中解脱了,那以后我们谁也没再提过她丈夫的名字。

*  *  *

我们的生活恢复了往常的模式,但是我没有忘记伯爵。我了解到他在圣约翰伍德的房子又续租了6个月,因此可以肯定,到了我采取行动的时候,他还会在伦敦,我还可以找到他。

我们终于弄清了安妮·凯瑟里克的父亲是谁。我又去见了克莱门茨太太,告诉她安妮已经死了。她记起凯瑟里克太太当仆人的地方。她的雇主姓多桑。

我们给多桑先生写信,他在回信中告诉我们一些非常有趣的信息。菲利普·费尔利,就是劳拉的父亲,年轻时和他是好友,也是他家里的常客。菲利普风流潇洒,喜欢女色。多桑先生非常肯定凯瑟里克太太在他家当仆人的那段时间,也就是安妮出生的前一年,菲利普·费尔利一直住在他家。

玛丽安和我算了算时间,我们想到安妮和劳拉如此地相像,想到劳拉如此地像她父亲,我们得到了非常肯定的答案。菲利普·费尔利是安妮的父亲,安妮和劳拉是同父异母的姐妹。

现在,那位白衣女人,那位在寂静深夜出现的古怪而哀伤的女人终于可以安息了。

*  *  *

四个月过去了,劳拉的身体渐渐强壮起来,头脑也慢慢清楚了。她几乎又是原来的她了。我们交谈的时候,感觉和当初在利默里奇谈话时一样。当我无意间碰到她的时候,我感到心跳在加速,而且我注意到她也脸红了。

4月,我们到海边度假。在那里,我告诉玛丽安,等回到伦敦,我一定要迫使福斯科伯爵说实话,让他说出劳拉回伦敦的真正日期。

“但是为了劳拉的安全,我想如果我挑战伯爵的话,最好以她丈夫的身份前去,你同意吗,玛丽安?”

“完全同意,”玛丽安说,“我曾让你们两个分开,你在这儿等我一下,我的好朋友!一会儿劳拉就过来,她会告诉你我这次是怎么做的,好吗?”

她吻了吻我的额头,走了出去。我在窗旁等着,眼睛望着海滩,却什么也看不到,我紧张得几乎喘不过气来。门开了,劳拉一个人走进来。我们在利默里奇分手的时候,她是慢慢地走进房间的,神情充满了痛苦和犹豫。这会儿,她跑向我,脸上闪耀着幸福的光芒。她张开手臂紧紧地拥抱我,用甜润的双唇吻着我。

“亲爱的!”她轻声说,“现在我们能对彼此说‘我爱你’了吧?啊,我终于得到幸福了!”

十天以后,我们的幸福又向前迈进了一步,我们结婚了。

14
The confession

A fortnight later, we returned to London, and I began to prepare for my battle with the Count. It was now early May and the rental agreement for his house ended in June. In my new happiness with Laura (to whom we never mentioned the Count's name), I was sometimes tempted to change my mind and to leave things as they were. But she still had dreams, terrible dreams that made her cry out in her sleep, and I knew I had to go on.

First, I tried to find out more about the Count. Marian told me that he had not been back to Italy for many years. Had he been obliged to leave Italy for political reasons, I wondered? But Marian also said that at Blackwater Park he had received official-looking letters with Italian stamps on, which would seem to contradict this idea. Perhaps he was a spy, I thought. That might explain why he had stayed in England so long after the successful completion of his plot. Who could I ask who might know something? Another Italian, perhaps — and I suddenly thought of my old friend, Professor Pesca.

Before I did that, I decided to have a look at the Count, as up to this time I had never once set eyes on him. So one morning I went to Forest Road, St John's Wood, and waited near his house. Eventually, he came out and I followed behind him as he walked towards the centre of London. Marian had prepared me for his enormous size and fashionable clothes, but not for the horrible freshness and cheerfulness and energy of the man.

Near Oxford Street he stopped to read a sign announcing an opera, and then went into the opera ticket office, which was nearby. I went over to read the sign. The opera was being performed that evening, and it seemed likely that the Count would be in the audience.

If I invite Pesca to the opera, I thought, I can point the Count out to him and find out if he knows him. So I bought two tickets myself, sent Pesca a note, and that evening called to take him with me to the opera.

The music had already started when we went in, and all the seats were filled. However, there was room to stand at the sides. I looked around and saw the Count sitting in a seat half-way down, so I placed myself exactly on a line with him, with Pesca standing at my side. When the first part finished, the audience, including the Count, rose to look about them.

When the Count was looking in our direction, I nudged Pesca with my elbow. 'You see that tall fat man? Do you know him?'

'No,' said Pesca. 'Is he famous? Why do you point him out?'

'Because I have a reason for wanting to know more about him. He's an Italian, and his name is Count Fosco. Do you know that name? Look — stand on this step so that you can see him better.'

A slim, fair-haired man, with a scar on his left cheek, was standing near us. I saw him look at Pesca, and then follow the direction of his eyes to the Count. Pesca repeated that he did not know him, and as he spoke, the Count looked our way again.

The eyes of the two Italians met.

In that second I was suddenly convinced that, while Pesca may not have known the Count, the Count certainly knew Pesca!

Not only knew him, but — more surprising still — feared him as well. The Count's face had frozen into a dreadful stillness, the cheeks as pale as death, the cold grey eyes staring in terror.

Nearby, the man with the scar also seemed to be watching with interest the effect that Pesca had had on the Count.

'How the fat man stares!' Pesca said, looking round at me. 'But I've never seen him before in my life.'

As Pesca looked away, the Count turned, moving quickly towards the back of the theatre, where the crowd was thickest. I caught Pesca's arm and, to his great surprise, hurried him with me after the Count. The slim man with the scar had apparently also decided to leave, and was already ahead of us. By the time Pesca and I reached the entrance, neither the Count nor the slim man was in sight.

'Pesca,' I said urgently, 'I must speak to you in private. May we go to your lodgings to talk?'

'What on earth is the matter?' cried Pesca.

I hurried him on without answering. The way the Count had left the theatre, his extraordinary anxiety to avoid Pesca, made me fear that he might go even further — and out of my reach.

In Pesca's lodgings, I explained everything as fast as I could, while Pesca stared at me in great confusion and amazement.

'He knows you — he's afraid of you. He left the theatre to escape you,' I said. 'There must be a reason, Pesca! Think of your own life before you came to England. You left Italy for political reasons. I don't ask what they were. But could that man's terror be connected with your past in some way?'

To my inexpressible surprise, these harmless words seemed to terrify Pesca. His face went white and he started to tremble.

'Walter!' he whispered. 'You don't know what you ask.'

I stared at him. 'Pesca, forgive me. I didn't mean to cause you pain. I spoke only because of what my wife has suffered from that man's cruel actions. You must forgive me.'

I rose to go. He stopped me before I reached the door.

'Wait,' he said. 'You saved my life once. You have a right to hear from me what you want to know, even though I could be killed for it. I only ask that, if you find the connection between my past and that man Fosco, you do not tell me.'

Then, his face still pale as the memories of the past crowded in on him, he told me the story.

'In my youth I belonged — and still belong — to a secret political society. Let's call it the Brotherhood, I can't tell you its real name. But I took too many risks and did something which put other members in danger. So I was ordered to go and live in England and to wait. I went — I have waited — I still wait. I could be called away tomorrow, or in ten years. I cannot know.

'The purpose of the Brotherhood is to fight for the rights of the people. There is a president in Italy, and presidents abroad. Each of these has his secretary. The presidents and secretaries know the members, but members don't know each other, until it's considered necessary. Every member of the Brotherhood is identified by a small round mark burnt into the skin, high up on the inside of their left arm.'

He rolled up his sleeve and showed me his own mark.

'If anyone betrays the Brotherhood,' he went on, 'he is a dead man. Another member, a distant stranger or a neighbour, will be ordered to kill him. No one can leave the society — ever.'

Pesca paused, then continued. 'In Italy I was chosen to be secretary. The members at that time were brought face to face with the president, and were also brought face to face with me. You understand me — I see it in your face. But tell me nothing, I beg you! Let me stay free of a responsibility which horrifies me.

'I do not know the man at the opera,' he said finally. 'If he knows me, he is so changed, or disguised, that I do not know him. Leave me now, Walter. I have said enough.'

'I thank you with all my heart, Pesca,' I said. 'You will never, never regret the trust you have placed in me.'

Walking home, my heart beat with excitement. Here at last, surely, was my weapon against the Count! I was convinced he was a member of the Brotherhood, had betrayed it, and believed that he had been recognized tonight. His life was now in danger. What else could explain his extreme terror at seeing Pesca?

And what would he do next? Leave London as fast as he could. If I went to his house and tried to stop him, he would not hesitate to kill me. To protect myself, I had to make his safety depend on mine. I hurried home and wrote this letter to Pesca:

The man at the opera, Fosco, is a member of your society and has betrayed it. Go instantly to his house at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. I am already dead. Use your power against him without delay.

I signed and dated the letter, and wrote on the envelope: Keep until nine o'clock tomorrow morning. If you do not hear from me before then, open the envelope and read the contents.

I then found a messenger, told him to deliver the letter and bring back a note from Professor Pesca to say he had received it. Twenty minutes later I had the note, and as I was leaving, Marian came to the door, looking anxious.

'It's tonight, isn't it?' she said. 'You're going to the Count.'

'Yes, it's the last chance, and the best.'

'Oh, Walter, not alone! Let me go with you. Don't go alone?'

'No, Marian. You must stay here and guard Laura for me. Then I will be easy in my mind when I face the Count.'

*  *  *

As I approached the Count's house, I passed the man with the scar on his cheek, whom I had noticed earlier at the opera. What was he doing here, I wondered?

I sent in my card, and I still do not know why the Count let me into his house at half past eleven at night. Was he just curious to see me? He would not have known that I was at the opera with Pesca, and I suppose he thought he had nothing to fear from me.

He was still in his evening suit, and there was a travelling case on the floor, with books, papers, and clothes all around him. My guess had been right.

'You come here on business, Mr Hartright?' he said, looking at me with curiosity. 'I cannot think what that might be.'

'You are obviously preparing for a journey,' I said. 'That is my business. I know why you are leaving London.'

'So you know why I am leaving London?' He went over to a table and opened a drawer.' Tell me the reason, if you please.'

'I can show you the reason,' I said. 'Roll up the sleeve on your left arm, and you will see it.'

His cold grey eyes stared into mine. There was a long heartbeat of silence. I was as certain as if I had seen it that he had a gun hidden in the drawer, and that my life hung by a thread.

'Wait a little,' I said. 'Before you act, I advise you to read this note.' Moving slowly and carefully, I passed him Pesca's note.

He read the lines aloud.

Your letter is received. If I don't hear from you before nine o'clock, I will open the envelope when the clock strikes.

Another man might have needed an explanation, but not the Count. His expression changed, and he closed the drawer.

'You are cleverer than I thought,' he said. 'I cannot leave before nine as I have to wait for a passport to be delivered. Your information may be true or may be false — where did you get it?'

'I refuse to tell you.'

'And that unsigned note you showed me — who wrote it?'

'A man whom you have every reason to fear.'

A pause. 'What do you want of me, Mr Hartright? Is it to do with a lady, perhaps?'

'Yes, my wife,' I answered.

He looked at me in real amazement, and I saw at once that he no longer considered me a dangerous man. He folded his arms and listened to me with a cold smile.

'You are guilty of a wicked crime,' I went on. 'But you can keep the money. All I want is a signed confession of the plot and a proof of the date my wife travelled to London.'

'Good!' he said. 'Those are your conditions; here are mine. One, Madame Fosco and I leave the house when we please and you do not try to stop us. Two, you wait here until my agent comes early tomorrow morning and you give him an order to get back your letter unopened. You then allow us half an hour to leave the house. Three, you agree to fight me at a place to be arranged later abroad. Do you accept my conditions — yes or no?'

His quick decision, his cleverness and force of character amazed me. For a second I hesitated. Should I let him escape? Yes, the evidence I needed to prove Laura's identity was far more important than revenge.

'I accept your conditions,' I said.

At once, he called for coffee and sat down to write. He wrote quickly for quite some time. Finally, he jumped up, declared that he had finished and read out his statement, which I accepted as satisfactory. He gave me the address of the company from whom he had hired the cab to collect Laura, and also gave me a letter signed by Sir Percival. It was dated 25th July, and announced the journey of Lady Glyde to London on 26th July. So there it was. On 25th July, the date of her death certificate in London, Laura was alive in Hampshire, about to make a journey the next day.

The Count then called in Madame Fosco to watch me while he slept. Early in the morning his agent arrived and I wrote a note for Pesca. An hour later, the agent returned with my unopened letter and the Count's passport.

'Remember the third condition!' the Count said as he left. 'You will hear from me, Mr Hartright.' Then he and the Countess got into the agent's cab with their bags and drove away, leaving the agent with me to make sure I did not follow.

As I watched them leave, another cab went by and I saw inside the man with the scar on his cheek. What was his business with the Count, I wondered? I had seen him too often now for it to be chance. Perhaps I had fought my own battle with the Count just in time. You cannot get a signed confession out of a dead man.

While I waited for the agreed half hour, I read the document that the Count had written for me.


Statement by Isidor Ottavio Baldassare Fosco

In the summer of 1850 I arrived in England on delicate political business and stayed with my friend, Sir Percival Glyde. We both urgently needed large amounts of money. The only person who had such money was his wife, from whom not a penny could be obtained until her death. To make matters worse, my friend had other private problems. A woman called Anne Catherick was hidden in the neighbourhood, was communicating with Lady Glyde, and knew a secret which could ruin him. And if he was ruined, what would happen to our financial interests?

The first thing to do was to find Anne Catherick, who, I was told, looked very much like Lady Glyde and who had escaped from a mad-house. I had the fantastic idea of changing the names, places and lives of Lady Glyde and Anne Catherick, the one with the other. The wonderful results of this change would be the gain of £ 30,000 and the keeping of Sir Percival's secret.

I found Anne Catherick and persuaded her and her friend to return to London. I rented a house in St John's Wood for myself, and obtained from Mr Fairlie in Limmeridge an invitation for Lady Glyde to visit. For my plan to work, it was necessary for Lady Glyde to leave Blackwater Park alone and stay a night at my house on her way to Limmeridge. This plan was made easier by Miss Halcombe's illness. I returned to Blackwater Park, and when Miss Halcombe was out of danger, I got rid of the doctor and instructed Sir Percival to get rid of the servants.

Next, we sent Mrs Michelson away for a few days, and one night Madame Fosco, Mrs Rubelle and I moved the sleeping Miss Halcombe to an unused part of the house. I left for London in the morning with my wife, leaving Sir Percival to persuade Lady Glyde that her sister had gone to Limmeridge and that she should follow her, breaking her journey in London at my house.

On 24th July, with my wife's help, I got hold of Anne Catherick, and took her to my house as Lady Glyde. However, when she saw no one she recognized, she screamed with fear and, to my horror, the shock to her weak heart caused her to collapse. By the end of the following day, she was dead. Dead on the 25th, and Lady Glyde was not due to arrive in London till the 26th!

It was too late to change the plan. I remained calm and carried on. On the 26th, leaving the false Lady Glyde dead in my house, I collected the true Lady Glyde from the railway station and took her to Mrs Rubelle's house. The two medical men I had hired (shall we say) were easily persuaded to certify the confused and frightened Lady Glyde as mentally ill. Then I gave her a drug and had Mrs Rubelle dress her in Anne Catherick's clothes. The next day, the 27th, she was delivered to the asylum, where she was received with great surprise, but without suspicion. The false Lady Glyde was buried at Limmeridge. I attended the funeral with suitable expressions of deep sympathy.

One final question remains. If Anne Catherick had not died when she did, what would I have done? I would, of course, have given her a happy release from the prison of life.


tempt v. to make someone want to have or do something 引诱

contradict v. be in conflict with 与……相矛盾

perform v. act 表演

nudge v. push gently 轻轻地碰

inexpressible adj. that can not be expressed 难以说清的

disguise v. alter the appearance so as to conceal the identity 伪装

curious adj. eager to learn; inquisitive 好奇的

aloud adv. audibly 出声地

agent n. a person who acts for another in business, politics etc. 代理人

delicate adj. tricky 微妙的

fantastic adj. wonderful 绝好的

14.认罪

两个星期之后,我们回到了伦敦。我开始准备与伯爵的较量。现在是5月初,他租房的期限到6月。享受着与劳拉新婚的幸福(我们从未跟她提起过伯爵),有时我忍不住想改变主意,让一切都过去。但是劳拉仍会做梦,可怕的噩梦,她常常在梦里惊叫起来,因此我明白必须继续原来的计划。

首先,我想尽量多了解一些伯爵的事。玛丽安告诉我,他已经很多年没有回意大利了。我想,他是不是由于政治原因被迫离开意大利的呢?但是玛丽安又说,在布莱克沃特庄园他好像收到过贴着意大利邮票的官方来信,这两者是互相矛盾的。也许他是间谍。这样可以解释为什么他在自己的阴谋得逞后,还在英国逗留那么久。有谁能告诉我答案呢?也许该再找个意大利人问问——猛然间我想到了老朋友,佩斯卡教授。

去见佩斯卡教授前,我决定先去看一下伯爵,因为到目前为止,我还从来没有见过他。于是一天早上,我去了圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特大街,在他的住处附近等他出现。最后,他终于出来了,朝伦敦市中心走去。我在后面跟着他。玛丽安跟我提过他身躯肥胖,衣着入时,但我没想到这个人那么精力旺盛,神采飞扬。

在牛津街附近,他停住脚步看一个歌剧的海报,然后走进了不远处的售票处。我过去看了一下海报,发现演出就在晚上,伯爵很可能会出现在观众当中。

我想假如邀请佩斯卡来看歌剧,就可以把伯爵指给他,看他是否认识。于是,我自己买了两张票,给佩斯卡写了封短信,晚上找他一起去看歌剧。

我们进入剧院的时候,音乐已经响起来了,剧场里座无虚席。不过剧场两边还有站的地方。我环顾四周,看到伯爵坐在前面几排的座位上,于是我也站到了那一排,佩斯卡站在我旁边。第一部分演出结束了,观众们,包括伯爵在内,都起身向周围张望。

在伯爵朝我们这个方向看的时候,我用臂肘碰了一下佩斯卡,“看见那个高大的胖子了吗?你认识他吗?”

“不认识,”佩斯卡回答,“他很有名吗?你为什么让我看他?”

“因为我需要更多地了解关于他的情况。他是意大利人,叫福斯科伯爵。你听说过这个名字吗?来,站这个台阶上,你会看得更清楚些。”

一个瘦瘦的金发男子站在我们的旁边,他的左脸上有一道疤。我注意到他看了看佩斯卡,又顺着佩斯卡的视线看了看伯爵。佩斯卡再一次对我说,他不认识那个人,就在他说话的时候,伯爵朝我们这边看过来。

这两个意大利人的目光相遇了。

那一瞬间,我敢肯定地说,佩斯卡可能不认识伯爵,但伯爵一定认识佩斯卡!

不仅是认识,更令人惊奇的是伯爵害怕佩斯卡。伯爵脸上的表情凝固了,像死人一样毫无血色,冷酷的灰眼睛恐惧地盯着这边。

脸上有疤的人似乎饶有兴趣地在一旁看着佩斯卡对伯爵的影响。

“那个胖子怎么那样看着我!”佩斯卡说,转过头看着我,“我从未见过他呀。”

佩斯卡扭头的时候,伯爵转身快步向剧场后边走去,那里人最多。我一把抓住佩斯卡的胳膊,不顾他的惊讶,拉着他紧追伯爵。那个脸上有疤的瘦子显然也准备离开剧场,并且已经走到了我们的前面。等我和佩斯卡赶到入口,伯爵和那个瘦子都已经不见了。

“佩斯卡,”我赶忙说,“我必须和你单独谈谈,我们到你的住处去谈可以吗?”

“这到底是怎么回事?”佩斯卡大声说。

我没回答,只是催着他赶紧走。伯爵离开剧场的样子,还有他迫不及待地要躲避佩斯卡,使我担心他可能会逃得更远——我可能再也找不到他了。

到了佩斯卡的住处,我以最快的速度向他讲述了事情的经过,他充满迷惑和惊讶地望着我。

他认识你——他很怕你。他离开剧场就是要逃避你,”我说,“这其中一定有原因,佩斯卡!回忆一下你来英国以前的经历。你是由于政治原因离开意大利的,我不是问你那些政治原因,不过那个人如此惊慌会不会同你的过去有什么关联?”

令我非常吃惊的是,这些本来无关紧要的话好像令佩斯卡非常惊恐。他的脸色变得煞白,身体开始颤抖。

“沃尔特!”他低声说,“你不知道你问了什么。”

我两眼紧盯着他,“佩斯卡,请原谅。我不是有意要给你带来痛苦,我说那些话只是因为那个人给我妻子带来了巨大的伤害。请你原谅我。”

我起身要离开,还没走到门口,他叫住了我。

“等一下,”他说,“你救过我的命,你有权从我这里知道你想要知道的东西,即使这会要了我的命。我唯一的请求是,即使你发现了我的过去同那个福斯科的关系,你也不要告诉我。”

接着,他开始讲他的经历,过去的记忆卷土重来,令他脸色煞白。

“我年轻的时候参加了一个秘密政治社团,现在还是它的成员。我们姑且叫它兄弟社团,我不能告诉你真实的名称。我当时完成了很多出生入死的任务,也做了一些给其他成员带来危险的事,所以社团命令我到英国待命。我服从命令来了英国——一直在等——现在还在等。我可能明天就被召回,也许是10年以后。我不知道。

“兄弟社团的宗旨是为人民争取权利。它在意大利有一个主席,国外有很多主席。每个主席都有秘书。主席和秘书认识所有的成员,但除非在必要的情况下,成员们彼此都不认识。每个兄弟社团成员的左臂内侧靠上的地方都有一个很小的圆形烙印,这是他们的记号。”

他卷起衣袖,给我看他自己的烙印。

“任何人背叛了兄弟社团,”他接着说,“他肯定会被处死。其他成员,也许是一个他不认识的陌生人,也许是他的邻居,会奉命杀死他。任何人不能退出社团——永远都不可以。”

佩斯卡停了一会儿又说:“在意大利,我被选为秘书,所有的成员那时都被带来见主席,当然也就见到了。你明白了我的意思——我从你的表情看出来了。但是,什么也别跟我说,求你了!我不想做我必须做的事,我感到害怕。

“我不认识剧场的那个人,”他最后说,“如果他认识,那他一定跟以前变化很大,或者伪装了自己,让我认不出来了。你现在走吧,沃尔特。我说得够多了。”

“我衷心地感谢你,佩斯卡,”我说,“你永远不会为信任我而后悔的。”

走在回家的路上,我的心情激动不已。我终于找到了对付伯爵的武器。我敢肯定他原来是一个兄弟社团成员,后来背叛了社团,他认为自己今晚被认出来了。现在他的生命很危险。不然他见到佩斯卡为什么那样害怕呢?

那他接着会做什么呢?尽快离开伦敦。如果我去他的住处拦住他,他肯定会毫不犹豫地杀了我。为保护我自己,我必须让他的生命安全地攥在我的手里。我赶忙回到家,给佩斯卡写了一封信:

剧场的那个人,福斯科,是你们社团的一个成员,他背叛了社团。赶快到他的住处圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特街5号。我已经死了。请用你的力量立即干掉他。

我签了名,写上日期,又在信封上写道:等到明天上午9点。如果到那时还没有我的消息,再打开信封读里面的内容。

然后,我找了一个信使,叫他把信送走并带回佩斯卡的回复,说他已经收到信了。20分钟后,我拿到了回复的纸条。我刚要离开,玛丽安出现在门口,脸上露出担忧的表情。

“就是今天晚上吗?”她说,“你要去找伯爵。”

“对,这是最后的机会,也是最好的机会。”

“噢,沃尔特,别一个人去!让我跟你去吧,不要一个人去!”

“不行,玛丽安。你必须留在这里替我保护劳拉。那样,我面对伯爵的时候才会放心。”

*  *  *

快到伯爵住处的时候,我碰见了脸上有疤的那个人,早些时候在剧场就见过他。他在这儿做什么,我心里很纳闷。

我把名片递进去,我到现在也不明白,为什么夜里11点半伯爵还让我进去。他对我好奇,想见我?他并不知道我和佩斯卡同在剧场,我猜想他觉得我没有什么好怕的。

他还穿着晚礼服,地上有一个旅行箱,他周围满是书籍、文件和衣服。我猜的没错。

“你来这里有事,哈特里特先生?”他一边说,一边用好奇的眼光打量我,“我想不出会是什么事。”

“你像是在准备出门旅行,”我说,“这就是我来的原因。我知道你为什么要离开伦敦。”

“你知道我为什么要离开伦敦?”他走到一张桌旁,打开抽屉,“如果你愿意,说说为什么。”

“我可以让你看看为什么,”我说,“把你左边的衣袖卷起,就能看到。”

他那冷酷的灰眼睛一动不动地盯着我。接下来是一阵令人紧张的寂静。我就像亲眼所见一样清楚,那抽屉里藏着枪,我现在命悬一线。

“等一下,”我说,“你动手之前,我建议你看看这个纸条。”我慢慢地、小心翼翼地把佩斯卡的纸条递给他。

他出声读着纸条。

你的信收到了。如果9点以前没有你的消息,9点整,钟一响我就打开信封。

假如换作另外一个人,可能需要一些解释,但伯爵不需要。他脸上的表情变了,他关上了抽屉。

“你比我想的要聪明,”他说,“我9点以前走不了,我得等人给我送护照来。你得到的信息可能是真的,也可能是假的。你是从哪儿知道的?”

“我不会告诉你的。”

“你给我的没有签名的纸条是谁写的?”

“一个你非常害怕的人。”

他停了一会儿,“你要我做什么,哈特里特先生?是不是跟一位女士有关?”

“是的,是我妻子。”我回答。

他非常吃惊地看着我。看得出他不再认为我会给他带来危险了。他双手交叉抱在胸前,面带冷笑听我继续说下去。

“你犯下了严重的罪行,”我接着说道,“但是,你可以留着你得到的钱。我只要一个由你签名的认罪书,还有我妻子回伦敦的日期证明。”

“好!”他说,“这是你的条件,我的条件是:第一,福斯科夫人和我在我们愿意的时候离开这里,你不要阻止我们。第二,你呆在这里,明天一早我的代理人过来,你让他取回那封还没有打开的信。然后,你要给我们半个小时的时间离开这里。第三,你答应跟我在国外找一个地方决斗。你接受我的条件吗——是还是否?”

他的迅速决断,他的精干和意志力令我震惊。我犹豫了一会儿。我应该让他逃走吗?是的,证明劳拉身份的证据比复仇重要得多。

“我接受你的条件。”我说。

他随即叫人拿来咖啡,坐下开始写。他落笔如飞,写了很长时间。最后,他站起来,说他已经写完了并念给我听。我觉得还满意。他给了我他租车接劳拉的那家公司的地址,同时给我的还有珀西瓦尔爵士签名的一封信。信的日期是7月25日,里面说格莱德夫人将于7月26日启程去伦敦。这就是证据。7月25日,即死亡证明上宣告劳拉死于伦敦的日子,劳拉还在汉普郡活着准备第二天的旅行。

然后,伯爵把福斯科夫人叫进来,让她看着我,他自己去睡觉。第二天一早,他的代理人来了,我给佩斯卡写了封短信。一个小时后,代理人拿着我那封没打开的信和护照回来了。

“别忘了第三个条件!”伯爵临走时说,“你会收到我的信的,哈特里特先生。”说完,他和伯爵夫人坐上代理人的马车离开了这里,代理人留下来,确保我不跟踪他们。

我看着他们离开,这时另一辆马车驶过去,车里坐着那个脸上有疤的人。他和伯爵有什么瓜葛?我看到他好几次了,不应该是巧合。或许我跟伯爵的较量正是时候。他要是死了,我就没法得到他签名的笔录了。

在约定的半小时里,我读了伯爵写给我的认罪书。

伊西多·奥塔维奥·鲍尔德塞尔·福斯科的证词

1850年夏天,由于微妙的政治原因我来到英国,同我的朋友珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士住在一起。我们两人都急需一大笔钱。唯一拥有这笔钱的人是他妻子,但是他妻子不死,我们一分钱也得不到。更糟糕的是,我的朋友又遇到了别的麻烦事。一个叫安妮·凯瑟里克的女人藏在我们附近,她在同格莱德夫人接触,并且掌握着一个可以毁掉珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。如果他完蛋了,那我们的经济利益怎么办呢?

我们要做的第一件事就是找到安妮·凯瑟里克。我了解到她的长相和格莱德夫人极为相似。她是从精神病院逃出来的。我突发奇想,把格莱德夫人同安妮·凯瑟里克的名字、住处、经历互换一下。互换的结果既可以让我们得到3万英镑,又能够保住珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。

我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,说服她和她的朋友回伦敦去。我自己在圣约翰伍德租了房子,同时从利默里奇的费尔利先生那里得到了邀请格莱德夫人去看望他的信。要实现我的计划,必须让格莱德夫人一个人离开布莱克沃特庄园,在去往利默里奇的途中在我家里住一夜。哈尔库姆小姐的病让我的计划更容易进行了。我回到布莱克沃特庄园,等哈尔库姆小姐一脱离危险,就辞退了医生,并且让珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了所有仆人。

下一步,我们让米切尔森太太离开庄园几天。一天晚上,福斯科夫人、鲁贝尔太太和我把昏睡中的哈尔库姆小姐抬到了一个没有人住的房间里。转天一早,我和夫人赶往伦敦,留下珀西瓦尔爵士劝说格莱德夫人,让她相信她姐姐已经去了利默里奇,她也应该去找她,途中在伦敦我的家休息。

7月24日,在我妻子的协助下,我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,把她带到我的住处,假装就是格莱德夫人。然而,当安妮·凯瑟里克看到没有一个她认识的人时,吓得叫了起来。令我非常害怕的是,惊吓使她脆弱的心脏无法承受,转天她就死了。她是25日死的,可是格莱德夫人26日才能到伦敦!

改变计划已经来不及了。我尽量保持头脑冷静,继续着原来的计划。26日,我把已死的假格莱德夫人留在家里,到车站去接真正的格莱德夫人,带她到鲁贝尔太太家。我雇用的(可以这样说)两个医生很容易就被说服了,他们证明迷惑而惊恐的格莱德夫人患了精神病。而后,我给她吃了镇静药,让鲁贝尔太太给她穿上安妮·凯瑟里克的衣服。第二天,也就是27日,格莱德夫人被送进精神病院,那里的人非常吃惊,但没有人怀疑。假格莱德夫人被埋葬在利默里奇。我出席了葬礼,表现出应有的悲伤与同情。

还有最后一个问题,如果安妮·凯瑟里克没有死的话,我会怎么办呢?我当然很高兴帮她摆脱牢笼般的人生。

15
The proof

When the half hour had passed, I returned home. After a brief explanation to Laura and Marian, I hurried back to St John's Wood to find the cab-driver whom the Count had hired to collect Laura at the station. He wrote me a statement, which he and a witness signed, saying that on 26th July 1850 he had driven a Count Fosco to the railway station where they had collected a Lady Glyde. He remembered Lady Glyde's name, he said, from the labels on her luggage.

Then I went to Mr Kyrle's office and presented him with the proof of Laura's identity — the letter from Sir Percival, the statement by the cab-driver, the confession by the Count, and the death certificate. Amazed, he congratulated me, and agreed to accompany us to Limmeridge the next day, where I intended to have Laura publicly received and recognized.

Early the next morning Laura, Marian, Mr Kyrle and I took the train to Limmeridge. Laura and Marian stayed at first in a hotel while Mr Kyrle and I went to the house to deal with Mr Fairlie. He complained like a child, saying how was he to know his niece was alive when he was told she was dead? Between us, the lawyer and I made him sign letters calling all those who had attended the false funeral to come to the house the next day.

As I led Laura into her childhood home the following morning, there was a murmur of surprise and interest from the waiting crowd of villagers and neighbours. The business was soon done. I read out the story of the plot against Laura, and Mr Kyrle announced that everything I had said was proved by the strongest evidence. I put my arm around Laura, raised her up, and called to the crowd:

'Are you all agreed that this is the Laura Fairlie you knew?'

'There she is, alive and well — God bless her!' It was an old man at the back of the room who began it, and in an instant everybody was shouting and cheering together.

Later, in the churchyard, we watched a stone worker remove Laura's name from the gravestone. In its place he put this:

ANNE CATHERICK

25TH JULY 1850

We returned to London the following day, happy in the thought that the long struggle was now over.

*  *  *

Several days later Pesca came to see me, and asked for a quiet word in my ear. He had just returned from Paris.

'I have news for you, my friend,' he said. 'You need not worry any more about the man at the opera. His body was found in the river Seine yesterday and now lies in the morgue in Paris. He was killed by knife wounds to the heart.'

'Count Fosco is dead?' I said, amazed. 'Are you sure?'

'I saw the body with my own eyes. He was wearing a French workman's clothes, and had a different name, of course, but he was the fat man we saw at the opera that night. No question.'

'But how do you know this?' I asked.

Pesca hesitated. 'A man brought me some information,' he said. 'I had to see the body, and send a report about it.'

'A man,' I said. 'What kind of man?'

'A stranger,' said Pesca. 'I didn't know him. A man with a scar on his left cheek.' He saw the understanding in my face, and held up his hand. 'No more questions, my friend. Please!'

We never spoke about it again, but I think Pesca was telling me that the Brotherhood had taken their revenge. And so Count Fosco, that extraordinary, evil man, passed from this world.

*  *  *

The following year our first child was born — a son. Six months later my newspaper sent me to Ireland and, when I returned, I found a note from my wife saying she and Marian and little Walter had gone to Limmeridge House. She begged me to follow as soon as possible. Very surprised, I caught the next train. When I got there, Marian and Laura told me Mr Fairlie was dead and that Mr Kyrle had advised them to go to Limmeridge House.

Laura came close to me and I half realized some great change was happening in our lives.

'Do you know who this is, Walter?' Marian asked, holding up my little son, with tears of happiness in her eyes. 'This is the boy who will one day inherit Limmeridge House.'

So she spoke. In writing those last words, I have written everything. Marian was the good friend of our lives — let Marian end our story.


label n. a small piece of paper, card etc. attached to an object and giving information about it 标签

congratulate v. express pleasure at the happiness or good fortune or excellence of a person 祝贺

morgue n. a room or building in which dead bodies may be kept until burial or cremation 停尸间

15.证据

alt

那半个小时过去了,我回到家里。简单地向劳拉和玛丽安说明了情况后,我立即赶回圣约翰伍德去找那个伯爵雇来到车站接劳拉的车夫。那人给我写了份证词,他和另一个证人都签了字。证词说,1850年7月26日他驾车送福斯科伯爵去车站,接了一位格莱德夫人。他说还记得格莱德夫人的名字,是在行李标签上看到的。

然后,我去了克尔先生的办公室,给他看了证明劳拉身份的证据——珀西瓦尔爵士的信、马车夫的证词、伯爵的认罪书和那份死亡证明。克尔先生很吃惊,接着向我表示祝贺并且答应第二天陪我们到利默里奇,我准备让人们公开地接受和认可劳拉。

转天的一大早,劳拉、玛丽安、克尔先生和我乘火车前往利默里奇。劳拉和玛丽安先在一家旅店里休息,克尔先生和我去庄园与费尔利先生交涉。费尔利先生像孩子一样抱怨说,有人告诉他他侄女死了,他怎么会知道他侄女还活着?在只有我们三个人的情况下,克尔先生和我让他在事先准备好的信上签字,邀请所有参加那场假葬礼的人第二天到费尔利家来。

第二天早晨,当我带着劳拉走进她儿时的家时,等候在那里的村民和邻居们发出惊奇的低语声。很快我们进入了正题。我大声宣读了针对劳拉的罪恶阴谋的全过程,克尔先生当众宣布我说的每一件事都证据确凿。我搂住劳拉,扶她起来,高声对众人说:

“你们说这是不是你们认识的劳拉·费尔利?”

“是她,她还好好地活着——上帝保佑她!”一位站在屋子后面的老人首先说,其他人也都立刻欢呼起来。

后来,在教堂墓地里,我们亲眼看着一位石匠把劳拉的名字从墓碑上凿去,在原来的地方刻上:

安妮·凯瑟里克

卒于1850年7月25日

转天,我们返回了伦敦,想到漫长的斗争终于结束了,我们都非常高兴。

*  *  *

过了几天,佩斯卡来看我,要跟我单独聊聊。他刚从巴黎回来。

“我有重要的消息要告诉你,我的朋友,”他说,“你不用再担心剧场里的那个人了,昨天在塞纳河发现了他的尸体,现在他的尸体停放在巴黎的停尸间。他是被人用刀子刺进心脏而死的。”

“福斯科伯爵已经死了?”我吃惊地问,“你能肯定吗?”

“我亲眼看了他的尸体,他穿着法国工人的制服,当然也换了名字,但他就是那天晚上我们在剧场见到的那个胖子。一点儿没错。”

“可你是怎么知道这个消息的呢?”我问。

佩斯卡犹豫了一下。“有人告诉我的,”他说,“我必须亲眼看到他的尸体,然后发一个报告。”

“有人,”我说,“是什么人?”

“一个陌生人,”佩斯卡回答,“我不认识那个人,他的左脸上有一道疤。”看到我脸上了然的表情,他抬了抬手,“请不要多问了,我的朋友!”

我们再没有提起这件事,不过我想佩斯卡是要告诉我兄弟社团已经采取了复仇行动。就这样,福斯科伯爵,那个能力不俗的恶徒从这个世界上消失了。

*  *  *

第二年,我们的第一个孩子出世了——是个儿子。6个月以后,我供职的那家报社派我去了爱尔兰。我回来的时候,看到妻子留给我的一封短信,信上说她和玛丽安还有小沃尔特去了利默里奇庄园。她让我尽快去找他们。我感到很惊讶,赶下一班火车去了那里。我到那儿之后,玛丽安和劳拉告诉我费尔利先生去世了,是克尔先生建议她们到利默里奇庄园去的。

劳拉走到我身边,我朦胧地意识到我们的生活将要发生什么大事。

“你知道这是谁吗,沃尔特?”玛丽安一边举起我的小儿子,一边问我,眼睛里充满了喜悦的泪水,“这个孩子将来有一天会继承利默里奇庄园。”

她就是这样说的。写完了最后几句话,我的讲述就到这里了。玛丽安是我们的终生好友——就让她结束我们的故事吧。

证据

PART THREE
THE STORY TOLD BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
第三部分 沃尔特·哈特里特的讲述

9
The gravestone

On 13th October 1850 I left the wild forests of Central America and returned to England. I had escaped death by disease, death by war, and death by drowning, and hoped that these experiences had strengthened me to face my future — a future without Laura Fairlie. I still remembered her as Laura Fairlie, and could not think of her by her husband's name.

The first thing I did was to visit my mother and sister in their Hampstead cottage. The joy of our meeting, however, soon turned to sadness. I have no secrets from my mother, and when I saw the loving pity in her eyes, I feared the worst.

The news was soon told. I tried hard not to let my sorrow spoil the happiness of my return for my mother and sister, but by the third day I knew I had to go away alone for a while.

'Let me go up to Limmeridge,' I begged my mother. 'I can bear it better when I have seen her grave.'

It was a warm autumn afternoon when I arrived at the station and walked down the familiar road, seeing in the distance the high white walls of Limmeridge House. In the churchyard I found the grave and knelt down beside the gravestone, closing my eyes.

Oh my love! My Love! My dear, dear Love!

Hours passed, and the evening sunlight threw long shadows among the sleeping places of the dead. I had lost all sense of time, kneeling there. Then, in the silence, I heard the soft sound of footsteps on the grass.

I looked up.

Beyond me, standing together by the churchyard wall, were two women, their veils down, hiding their faces. They were looking towards the grave, looking towards me.

Two.

They came closer, and stopped. One of them lifted her veil, and in the still evening light I saw the face of Marian Halcombe. A changed face. Thin and pale, full of pain and fear.

The woman with the veiled face came towards me slowly. Marian Halcombe sank to her knees, murmuring, 'Oh God, help him! Please, please help him, God!'

The veiled woman came on, slowly and silently. I looked at her — at her, and at no one else, from that moment. She had possession of me, body and soul. She stopped by the side of the gravestone, and we stood face to face with the grave between us.

'Oh God, help him, help him!'

The woman lifted her veil.

In Loving Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde...

Laura, Lady Glyde, was standing by the gravestone, looking at me over her grave.

*  *  *

A life suddenly changed. A new future before me, like the sunlit view from a mountain top. I leave my story in the quiet shadow of Limmeridge church, and begin again, one week later, in the noise and rush of a London street.

I have rented rooms under a different name. Marian and Laura, using the same name, are said to be my sisters. I earn our bread by doing drawings for cheap magazines. We employ no servant; my elder sister, Marian, does the housework with her own hands. Marian and I are known to be the friends of mad Anne Catherick (address unknown), who falsely claims the identity of Lady Glyde. To the rest of the world, Laura, Lady Glyde, is dead. Dead to her uncle, who has refused to recognize her; dead to the lawyers, who have passed her fortune to her husband and aunt.

But to Marian and me she is alive! Penniless and sadly changed — her beauty faded, her mind confused — but alive, with her poor drawing teacher to fight her battles and to win her way back to the world of living beings. She is mine at last — mine to support, to protect, to defend. And mine to love.


drown v. to kill by submerging and suffocating in liquid 淹死;溺死

strengthen v. make stronger 变得坚强

veil n. a piece of fabric attached to a woman's hat 面纱

earn one's bread earn one's living 维持生计

penniless adj. having no money 身无分文的

9.墓碑

1850年10月13日我离开中美洲的原始森林,回到了英国。我一次次逃过疾病、战争和洪水带来的死亡危险。我希望这些经历能够使我更加坚强地面对未来——没有劳拉的未来。在我心里她依然是劳拉·费尔利,我无法把她冠以她丈夫的姓氏。

我回来后的第一件事是到汉普斯特德看望母亲和妹妹。欢聚的快乐很快转化为悲伤。我没有任何秘密瞒着母亲,从她充满爱怜和同情的眼光里,我预感到最坏的事情发生了。

她们把消息告诉了我。我尽最大努力不让自己的悲哀破坏我回家带给母亲和妹妹的喜悦。但是,回来的第三天,我觉得必须一个人离开一段时间。

“让我到利默里奇去一趟吧,”我恳求着母亲,“看到她的坟墓,我可以更好地接受这一切。”

那是一个秋日的午后,天气很暖和,我到达目的地车站,走在熟悉的大路上,望着远处利默里奇庄园的白色高墙。在教堂墓地里,我找到了劳拉的墓,在她的墓碑前跪下来,闭上了双眼。

我的爱人我的爱人我最亲爱的人

几个小时过去了,落日的余辉在死者的安息地投下长长的影子。我跪在那里,完全没有了时间概念。这时,寂静中传来人走在草地上的脚步声。

我抬起头来。

不远处,教堂墓地的围墙边站着两个女人,面纱遮住了她们的脸。她们正朝墓地张望,正朝张望。

两个女人。

她们朝我走来。其中一个掀起了面纱,借着仅有的一点儿光线,我看出那是玛丽安·哈尔库姆小姐。她的脸变得跟从前不一样了:清瘦而苍白,充满了痛苦和恐惧。

头戴面纱的女人缓慢地向我走来。玛丽安·哈尔库姆跪下来,轻声说:“噢,上帝,帮帮他吧,帮帮他吧,上帝!”

头戴面纱的女人向我走来,缓慢地,无言地向我走来。我注视着她——目不转睛地久久注视着她。她占据了我的一切,我的灵魂和肉体。她在墓碑前停住脚步,我们隔着坟墓互相注视着。

“噢,上帝,帮帮他,帮帮他吧!”

那个女人掀起了面纱。

爱妻劳拉·格莱德夫人之墓……

劳拉·格莱德夫人,她就站在墓碑旁,隔着坟墓望着我。

alt

*  *  *

生活突然间变了。一个崭新的未来展现在我的面前,就像在山顶上看到的撒满阳光的景色。我把过去的故事留在了利默里奇教堂那寂静的阴影中,一星期后在喧闹、繁忙的伦敦开始了新的生活。

我换了一个姓氏租了房子。玛丽安和劳拉也用同样的姓氏,对外人就说是我的姐妹。我靠给廉价杂志画画维持生计。我们没有请仆人,我的姐姐,玛丽安亲自做家务。我和玛丽安对外就说是疯女人安妮·凯瑟里克(住址不详)的朋友,那疯女人总说自己是格莱德夫人。对世界上其他人来说,劳拉·格莱德夫人已经死了;对拒不承认她的叔叔,她已经死了;对把她的财产转给她丈夫和姑妈的律师,她也已经死了。

但是对于玛丽安和我,她还活着!她身无分文,人也变了——她的美丽在消逝,头脑一片混乱——但她还活着,她那可怜的绘画教师要为她奋争,使她重新回到真实的生活中来。她终于属于我了——由我供养、呵护、保护,由我所爱。

10
The rescue

At the first opportunity we had, Marian told me everything that had happened to her and Laura. The hardest part for her was after she had returned to Limmeridge House.

'I was in despair, Walter,' she said. 'Mr Kyrle's investigation was finished, and had shown nothing, he said. Mr Fairlie was no help at all — I heard that he didn't even leave his room to go to the funeral! But he did show me a letter he'd received from Count Fosco, which contained news of Anne Catherick. The Count said that Anne Catherick had been found and put back in the asylum from which she had escaped. But because she hated Sir Percival and wanted to make trouble for him, she was now claiming that she was not Anne Catherick at all, but Lady Glyde. The Count warned Mr Fairlie that if she escaped again, she might try to annoy members of Lady Glyde's family.

'I wasn't well enough to do anything for about a month after returning to Limmeridge, but when I felt stronger, I decided to make some investigations myself. First, I planned to visit the asylum in London and talk to poor Anne Catherick, to find out why she was claiming to be Laura. I knew the address because you had given it to me, all those months ago.

'Well, Walter, you can guess what's coming, I'm sure. The director of the asylum, who seemed an honest person, told me that Anne Catherick had been brought back on 27th July. He was puzzled by some odd personal changes in her, but assumed they were caused by her mental illness. He then called a nurse to take me to Anne Catherick, who was walking in the gardens.

'Imagine the shock, Walter — seeing my dead sister walking towards me in that garden! We just ran into each other's arms, unable to say a word. How the nurse stared at us!'

'I think I know how you must have felt,' I said. 'I shall never forget in the churchyard at Limmeridge... But tell me, however did you get Laura out of the asylum?'

'Bribery, Walter. I didn't want to risk a legal battle and all the delay that would involve, so I persuaded the nurse that a terrible mistake had been made and she would be doing a good thing in helping Anne Catherick escape. And I offered her £400. The plan went smoothly, and by early afternoon the next day Laura and I were on the train to Cumberland.'

'And Laura?' I asked. 'What actually happened on the day she left Blackwater Park and came to London?'

Marian sighed. 'Oh, Walter, it's not at all clear. Poor Laura's mind is so confused now that her memory of events is very unreliable. She can't even remember the date she left Blackwater. All she has been able to tell me is this. The Count met her at the station, and said that I was still in London and that he would take her to see me at once. She doesn't remember where the cab went, but it was clearly not to his house in St John's Wood. She was taken to a house in a narrow street, where people came and went, asking her questions she didn't understand. At this point the Count told her I was now very ill; she was so frightened by this news she nearly fainted. Someone then gave her a glass of water, which she said tasted odd — and after that she lost consciousness.'

'Poor, poor Laura,' I murmured.

'She woke up,' Marian continued, 'in the asylum, unable to leave, unable to make contact with the outside world. She was called by Anne Catherick's name and found she was wearing clothes with Anne Catherick's name on them. She was told Lady Glyde was dead and buried, and that she was Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick, Anne Catherick... Day in, day out, from 27th July to 15th October, she was made to feel that she was mad. It's hardly surprising her mind is so confused now.'

'And what happened at Limmeridge?' I asked.

Marian turned her face away. 'I can't bear to think about it,' she said. 'The worst part was taking Laura into Mr Fairlie's room. He looked straight into Laura's face and said, "My niece is buried in Limmeridge churchyard. I don't recognize this woman. Remove her from my house before I call on the law to protect me." Even the servants were doubtful about her identity, because she was so much changed and so confused by her experiences. Perhaps people would have been persuaded if we'd stayed longer, but I didn't dare risk it. At any minute the people from the asylum might come looking for us, so I decided to return to London at once and hide. Then, as we were passing the churchyard, Laura insisted on a last look at her mother's grave. And... well, that moment changed our three lives.'

'I think God was guiding Laura's footsteps,' I said.

How well I remember that day — that moment when Laura laid her poor head innocently and trustingly on my shoulder, and said, 'They have tried to make me forget everything, Walter, but I remember Marian, and I remember you.'

*  *  *

The plot against Laura was now clear. Anne Catherick had been taken into Count Fosco's house as Lady Glyde, and Lady Glyde had taken the dead woman's place in the asylum. It was also clear that the three of us could expect no mercy from Count Fosco and Sir Percival, who between them had gained £30,000 from the plot. They would do everything in their power to prevent their crime being discovered, and would hunt for their victim to separate her from her only friends — Marian and myself. This is why I had chosen a poor and crowded part of London to live in. It is easier to hide in a place where people are always coming and going.

Our life quickly took on a regular pattern — work, watching out for our enemies, and care of Laura, whom we surrounded with a gentle, protective love, helping her slowly but steadily to recover her balance of mind and her self-confidence.

Meanwhile, Marian and I began the battle. We studied the statements that Mr Kyrle had taken from witnesses — the doctor, and the servants and cook in Count Fosco's house. I obtained a copy of Lady Glyde's death certificate, and Marian wrote to Mrs Michelson, who replied, saying that she could not remember the exact date of Laura's departure from Blackwater Park. Nor could she remember when the letter announcing Laura's death, which was undated, had arrived from Madame Fosco.

I also arranged to visit Mr Kyrle, to ask for his help. After listening to my long explanation, the lawyer shook his head.

'My legal opinion, Mr Hartright, is that you won't win this case in a court of law. I accept, of course, that the identity of Lady Glyde as a living person is a proved fact to Miss Halcombe and yourself. But there is no evidence. If you could prove that the date on the death certificate was earlier than the date of Lady Glyde's journey to London, then you might have a case.'

As I left, he gave me a letter that had been delivered to him for Marian, and told me, in answer to my question, that Sir Percival Glyde had returned to London.

Outside in the street I soon noticed two men following me, and realized too late that the Count's spies must have been watching the lawyer's office, in the hope that Marian or I would go there. I went home by a very long route and managed to lose them, but it was a warning to me to be more careful.

Marian was very worried when I told her about the two men. Then I gave her the letter. She recognized the writing instantly.

'It's from Count Fosco.'


Dear and admirable woman, do not be afraid! Stay hidden, with your gentle companion, and nothing will happen to you. Challenge nothing, threaten nobody. Do not, I beg you, force me into action. If Mr Hartright returns to England, do not speak to him. If he crosses my path, he is a Lost man. F.


'Walter!' Marian said, her eyes flashing with anger. 'If ever the Count and Sir Percival are at your mercy and you must spare one of them, don't let it be the Count.'

'I'll keep this letter to remind me when the time comes,' I said. 'But tomorrow I will go to Blackwater, to try and find out the date of Laura's journey to London. It's the one weak point in their plot.'

'You mean that perhaps Laura did not leave for London until after the date on the death certificate?'

'Exactly. I think she left on 26th July. The Director of the asylum said she was taken there on the 27th. I doubt if they could have kept her drugged more than one night. We know from Mrs Michelson that Sir Percival left on the same day as Laura. I'll ask everyone in the village if they remember when he left.'

'And if that fails?'

'If that fails, Marian, I'll force a confession from Sir Percival. We have one weapon against him — his secret. Anne Catherick said that if his secret was known, it would ruin him. I intend to find out that secret. The woman in white, though dead in her grave, is still with us and is showing us the way!'


bribery n. persuading a person to act in one's favor by a gift of money or services 贿赂

unreliable adj. not liable 不可靠的

plot n. a conspiracy or secret plan esp. to achieve an unlawful end 阴谋

mercy n. kindness, pity, and willingness to forgive 仁慈

cross one's path meet sb by chance 与…偶然相遇

flash v. burst 闪烁

10.营救

我们刚一有机会交谈,玛丽安就把她和劳拉的遭遇从头到尾讲给我听。最令她难过的是回到利默里奇之后的经历。

“我太绝望了,沃尔特,”她说,“克尔先生的调查结束了,他说什么也没发现。费尔利先生一点儿忙也不帮——我听说他甚至都没离开他的房间去参加葬礼!不过他倒是把福斯科伯爵的信给了我,信里面有安妮·凯瑟里克的消息。伯爵说安妮·凯瑟里克已经找到了,被送回了原来的精神病院。但是,凯瑟里克因为痛恨珀西瓦尔爵士,想给他找麻烦,所以她现在自称不是安妮·凯瑟里克,而是格莱德夫人。伯爵提醒费尔利先生,假如她再逃出来,很可能要给格莱德夫人的家人添乱子。

“回来的头一个月,我身体虚弱,什么也干不了。后来身体恢复了,我决定亲自去调查。首先,我准备去伦敦的精神病院找可怜的安妮·凯瑟里克谈谈,弄清楚为什么她要自称是劳拉。我知道地址,是你几个月前给我的。

“噢,沃尔特,我相信你能猜到接下来发生的事情。精神病院的院长看上去是个正直的人,他告诉我,安妮·凯瑟里克是7月27日被送回来的。他对凯瑟里克身上的变化感到很困惑,但他推测是由于精神方面的疾病造成的。然后,他叫一名护士带我去见安妮·凯瑟里克,她正在花园散步。

“想象一下,当时我有多么震惊,沃尔特——我看到自己死去的妹妹在花园里朝我走来!我们跑向对方,紧紧地抱在一起,一句话也说不出来。护士不解地望着我们。”

“我很清楚你当时的心情,”我说,“我永远不会忘记在利默里奇教堂墓地……可是,你是怎么把劳拉救出精神病院的呢?”

“贿赂,沃尔特。我不想打官司,那样太冒险,也会耽误很长时间。所以,我对护士说,这里一定有严重的误会,如果她能帮助安妮·凯瑟里克逃走,就做了一件天大的好事。之后,我给了她400英镑。计划进行得很顺利,第二天刚过中午,我和劳拉就乘上了开往坎伯兰郡的火车。”

“那么,劳拉呢?”我问,“她离开布莱克沃特庄园到伦敦后,到底发生了什么?”

玛丽安叹了口气,“噢,沃尔特,现在还不清楚。可怜的劳拉思维很乱,她的记忆不可靠。她连离开布莱克沃特的日期都记不起来。她能告诉我的就是,伯爵在车站接她,告诉她我还在伦敦,他要带劳拉马上去见我。她不记得车往哪里走了,但是很明显不是去伯爵在圣约翰伍德的家。她被带进一条小巷里的一间房子,那里人来人往,问一些她听不懂的问题。这时,伯爵告诉她我病得很严重,她听了非常害怕,几乎昏了过去。接着有人给了她一杯水,她说水的味道很怪,之后她就失去了知觉。”

“可怜的劳拉。”我低声自语着。

“她醒来以后,”玛丽安接着说,“发现自己在精神病院里,既不能离开,也无法同外界接触。别人叫她安妮·凯瑟里克,她发现自己穿着有安妮·凯瑟里克名字的衣服。别人告诉她格莱德夫人已经死了,被安葬了,她就是安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克,安妮·凯瑟里克……一天又一天,从7月27日到10月15日,他们强迫她认为自己疯了。难怪现在她思维混乱。”

“在利默里奇发生了什么?”我问道。

玛丽安把头转向一侧。“我简直不忍心想在那儿发生的事情。”她回答,“最糟的就是我带劳拉走进费尔利先生的房间后,他紧盯着劳拉的脸说:‘我侄女已经埋在利默里奇教堂墓地了。我不认识这个女人。赶快带她出去,不然我要用法律来保护自己了。’仆人们也对劳拉的身份很怀疑,因为她变化太大了,她的经历也让她思绪异常混乱。也许我们逗留的时间长一些,大家会被说服,但是我不想冒这个险,因为精神病院的人随时都会来找我们,所以我决定马上回伦敦躲起来。当我们经过教堂的时候,劳拉坚持要最后再看一眼她母亲的坟墓。后来……嗯,那一刻改变了我们三个人的生活。”

“我想是上帝在引导着劳拉的脚步。”我说。

我清楚地记得那天——可怜的劳拉将头依偎在我的肩头,充满了纯洁与信任。她说:“他们想叫我忘掉一切,沃尔特,但我还记得玛丽安,我还记得。”

*  *  *

针对劳拉的阴谋现在已经清楚了。安妮·凯瑟里克被当作格莱德夫人带进了福斯科伯爵的家里,格莱德夫人在精神病院里取代了那个已经死了的女人的位置。还有一点也很明显,福斯科伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士是不会放过我们三个的。他们两人从这个阴谋中得到30,000英镑。他们会尽一切可能不让他们的罪行败露,也会极力追寻他们所陷害的人,并把她同她的朋友们——玛丽安和我——分开。这就是为什么我选择伦敦一处既贫穷又拥挤的地方住下来,因为在一个人来人往的地方比较容易躲藏。

我们的生活很快形成了一个较为固定的模式——工作,留意我们的敌人,照顾劳拉。我们细心地照顾她,保护她,帮助她慢慢地恢复正常的思维和自信心。

与此同时,玛丽安和我开始了紧张的调查。我们仔细研究克尔先生记录的证词——分别来自医生以及伯爵家的仆人和厨师。我弄到了一份格莱德夫人的死亡证明。玛丽安给米切尔森太太写信,米切尔森太太回信说记不清劳拉离开布莱克沃特庄园的确切日期了,也记不清福斯科夫人来信通知他们劳拉死讯的具体时间了,那封信没有注明日期。

我还安排与克尔先生见面,请求他的帮助。听我把前因后果一一讲完后,克尔先生摇了摇头。

“作为律师,哈特里特先生,我认为你不会赢得这场官司。当然我同意,你和哈尔库姆小姐可以证明格莱德夫人还活着,但是你没有证据。如果你能证明死亡证明上的时间比格莱德夫人去伦敦的时间,那你可能会赢这场官司。”

我要离开的时候,他交给我一封信,是要他转给玛丽安的。同时,他在回答我的提问时透露,珀西瓦尔爵士已经回到伦敦了。

在外面的街道上,我很快注意到有两个人在跟踪我。我这才意识到伯爵的人肯定一直在监视克尔先生的办公室,以防玛丽安和我会到那儿去。我绕远路回家,设法甩掉了跟踪我的人,但是这件事提醒我今后要更加小心。

我把两个人跟踪我的事告诉了玛丽安,她非常担心。我把那封信交给她,她马上就认出了写信人的笔迹。

“是福斯科伯爵写的。”


亲爱的、尊敬的女士,请不要害怕!继续同你温柔的伙伴藏好,你们就不会有事。不要试图做任何事情,不要给任何人带来威胁。我请求你们,不要强迫我采取行动。如果哈特里特先生回英国来,不要同他接触。假如他找我的麻烦,他就死定了。福斯科。


“沃尔特!”玛丽安眼里闪着愤怒的光,“如果伯爵和珀西瓦尔爵士落到你的手里,而你又必须放过他们中的一个的话,一定不要放过伯爵。”

“我要留着这封信,让它到时候提醒我应该怎么做,”我说,“明天我要去一趟布莱克沃特,查一查劳拉去伦敦的日期。这是他们阴谋中的一个漏洞。”

“你是说劳拉可能是在死亡证明上的日期之后才去伦敦的?”

“没错。我想她是7月26日动身的。精神病院的院长说她是27日被送进去的。我怀疑他们是否能让劳拉昏迷超过一晚上的时间。米切尔森太太说,珀西瓦尔爵士是和劳拉同一天离开的。我要问村里的每一个人,是不是还记得珀西瓦尔爵士什么时候离开的。”

“如果这样不行呢?”

“如果不行的话,玛丽安,我就逼珀西瓦尔爵士认罪。我们用他的秘密对付他,安妮·凯瑟里克说如果他的秘密让人知道了,那他就完了。我想查出他的秘密来。那个白衣女人虽说已经死了,但是还同我们在一起,她会为我们引路的!”

11
The investigation

The story of my first enquiries in Hampshire is soon told. Not a single person in the village of Blackwater could remember exactly when Sir Percival Glyde had left. Even the gardener at the house could only say it was some time in the last ten days of July.

'So, on to the next plan,' I said to Marian back in London, 'which is to pursue the secret. I need to talk to Anne Catherick's mother, but first I must find out something about her from Mrs Clements, Anne's friend. But how do I find Mrs Clements?'

Marian had the answer to that. 'You remember the farm she and Anne stayed at near Limmeridge? We'll write to them — they might know Mrs Clements' address.'

We were lucky. The farmer's wife did know the address, and wrote back by return to tell us. It was in London, not far from our rooms, and the next morning I was knocking at the door.

Mrs Clements was anxious to know if I had brought her any news of Anne, and very sad to learn that I had not. However, she was willing to tell me everything she knew.

'After leaving Limmeridge, sir,' she said, 'Anne and I went to live in the northeast of England, and that's when Anne started to suffer from heart disease. She wasn't at all well, but she insisted on travelling to Hampshire, because she wanted to speak to Lady Glyde. So we went there and stayed in a village near Blackwater — not too close as Anne was so frightened of Sir Percival.

'Each time Anne went to the lake to try to speak to Lady Glyde, I followed her at a distance. But the long walks made her so exhausted that she became ill again, so finally I went to the lake in her place to meet Lady Glyde. She didn't come that day, but a very fat man came instead with a message from her. The message was that we should return to London immediately, as Sir Percival would certainly find us if we stayed longer. Lady Glyde was going to London herself very soon and if we sent her our address, she would contact us.'

'But she didn't, did she?' I said, thinking how cleverly Count Fosco had lied to this kind woman.

'No, sir. I found lodgings and sent the address to Lady Glyde, but after two weeks we'd still heard nothing. Then one day a lady called in a cab. She said she came from Lady Glyde, who was staying at a hotel and wanted to arrange an interview with Anne. I agreed to go with this lady to make the arrangement, leaving Anne alone in our lodgings. But it was a wicked plot, sir. On the way the lady stopped the cab, saying she just had to collect something from a shop and would I wait for a few minutes. She never came back, sir. I waited for some time, and then I hurried home — and found Anne gone. Just disappeared.'

I asked Mrs Clements to describe this 'lady', and it seemed clear from her description that it was Madame Fosco. So I now knew how the Count had got Anne Catherick to London and separated her from Mrs Clements.

'I never found out what happened to Anne,' Mrs Clements said sadly. 'I made enquiries. I even wrote to her mother, but she didn't know anything. I miss poor Anne so much. She was like a daughter to me, you see, sir.'

'And I'm sure you were a kind mother to her,' I said. 'A better mother than her own mother.'

'That wasn't difficult,' said Mrs Clements. 'Mrs Catherick is a hard woman. She seemed to hate the child, and was only too pleased when I offered to bring her up. Then one day she took Anne to Limmeridge to stay with a sister, and after that she kept Anne from me. I didn't see Anne again till she escaped from the asylum — with your help, sir. And then she was always talking about a secret her mother had which could ruin Sir Percival. But you know, sir, I don't think Anne really knew what this secret was. If she had known, I'm sure she would have told me.'

I had wondered about that myself, and now I tried to turn the conversation on to Mrs Catherick.

'Did you know Mrs Catherick before Anne was born?'

'Yes, for about four months. We were neighbours in Welmingham. Mr and Mrs Catherick had just got married, and Mr Catherick had a job as clerk at Welmingham church. Before that, Mrs Catherick had been a servant at a large house. She was a selfish, heartless woman, and treated her poor husband very badly. Before long, there was a lot of talk about her and a young gentleman, who was staying at a hotel nearby. And Mr Catherick told my husband that he'd found expensive presents, gold rings and suchlike, hidden in his wife's drawer.'

'And who was this gentleman?' I asked.

'You know him, sir. And so did my poor dear Anne.'

'Sir Percival Glyde?' My heart began to beat faster. Was I getting close to the secret?

'That's right. His father had recently died abroad, and Sir Percival had just arrived in the neighbourhood. People thought, you see, that maybe Mrs Catherick had known Sir Percival before, and had married Mr Catherick just to save her reputation, because of, well, you know... Anyway, one night Mr Catherick found his wife whispering with Sir Percival outside the vestry of the church. They had a fight, but Sir Percival beat him and Mr Catherick left the village, never to return again. And in spite of all the talk in the village, Mrs Catherick stayed. She said she was innocent and that no one would drive her away. But most people thought that the money she lived on came from Sir Percival.'

The secret was here somewhere. But where? That Sir Percival was Anne's father was hardly a secret since everyone already thought that. No, there was another mystery somewhere.

'And what did you think, Mrs Clements?'

'Well, sir, if you worked out time and place, it was obvious that Mr Catherick wasn't Anne's father. But Anne wasn't at all like Sir Percival; and nor was she like her mother.'

I wondered about the house where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Perhaps I would make some enquiries later.

'You've been very kind, Mrs Clements,' I said, 'answering all my questions. One last request. Will you tell me Mrs Catherick's address? I have to find out this secret, and only she can tell me.'

Mrs Clements gave me the address, but shook her head. 'Take care, sir. She's an awful woman. You don't know her as I do.'

*  *  *

Back at our rooms I announced my intention to Marian of going to Welmingham. She was very uneasy about the plan.

'Are you sure it's wise, Walter? Sir Percival is a violent man.'

'I'm more afraid for you and Laura,' I said, 'left alone in London, with the Count as your enemy.'

We arranged to write to each other every day; and if no letter came from her, I would take the first train back to London.

*  *  *

Three days later I was standing in Mrs Catherick's sitting room, face to face with a grey-haired woman, dressed in black silk. Her dark eyes looked straight at me with a hard, cold stare.

'You say you have come to speak to me about my daughter,' she said. 'Please say what you have to say.'

Her voice was as hard as the expression in her eyes. She pointed to a chair, and looked at me carefully as I sat down.

'You know,' I said, 'that your daughter is lost?'

'I know that perfectly well.'

'Don't you worry that she might not be just lost, but that she might have met with her death?'

'Yes. Have you come to tell me that she is dead?'

'I have.'

'Why?'

She asked that extraordinary question without the slightest change in her voice, face, or manner. I might have been talking about the death of a cat in the street.

'I thought Anne's mother might be interested in knowing if she was alive or dead.'

'Just so,' she said. 'But what is your interest in her, or in me? Have you no other reason for coming here?'

'Yes, I do,' I said. 'Your daughter's death has caused someone I love to be harmed — by a man called Sir Percival Glyde.'

She did not react at all at the mention of his name.

'I want to make him confess to his crime. You know certain things about him from the time when your husband was the church clerk. I want you to tell me about them.'

At last I saw the anger burning in her eyes.

'What do you know about those events?'

'Everything that Mrs Clements could tell me.'

'Mrs Clements is a foolish woman.' She bit back her anger, and her lips curled in an unpleasant little smile. 'Ah, I begin to understand. You want your revenge on Sir Percival Glyde, and you want my help. That's why you've come here. Well, you don't know me. I've spent years getting back my reputation in this village. Now everyone respects me. I won't help you.'

'If you're afraid of Sir Percival, that's quite understandable,' I said. 'He's a powerful man, and comes from a great family —'

To my amazement, she suddenly burst out laughing.

'From a great family! Yes, indeed! Especially from his mother's side,' she said with disgust.

Whatever did she mean by that, I wondered?

'The secret between you and Sir Percival was not guilty love,' I insisted. 'It was something else that brought you and him to those stolen meetings outside the vestry of the church.'

As I said the words 'vestry of the church', I saw a wave of terror pass across her face.

'Go!' she said. 'And never come back. Unless' — and she gave a slow, cruel smile — 'unless you bring news of his death.'

*  *  *

It was now late, and I made my way to the nearest hotel. There was much to think about. Why should mention of the church vestry cause terror? Why the disgust at Sir Percival's family, especially his mother? Was there something unusual about his parents' marriage? Perhaps the local marriage register was kept in the vestry of Welmingham church...

The next day I went to the church. I had been aware of being followed the previous evening, and now I caught sight of the same two men I had seen outside Mr Kyrle's office in London. It seemed that Sir Percival had expected me to visit Mrs Catherick, and was now expecting me to visit Welmingham church — proof, surely, that my investigation was going in the right direction.

I found the church clerk, who fetched his keys and took me to the vestry. It could only be entered from the outside of the church, and the clerk had great difficulty opening the lock, which was very old. Once inside, I asked to see the marriage register. It was kept in a cupboard which could easily be forced open.

'Is that a safe enough place to keep the register?' I said.

'Safe enough,' the clerk said. 'A copy is kept by a lawyer in the next village — Mr Wansborough's office in Knowlesbury.'

I worked backwards in the register from Sir Percival's year of birth and there, under September of the previous year, squashed into a small space at the bottom of the page, was the record of the marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster of Knowlesbury. Just the usual information. Nothing apparently peculiar about Sir Percival's mother. The secret seemed further away than ever.

But on to Knowlesbury, and Mr Wansborough's office — a five-mile walk, but possible to get there and back by the end of the day. It was worth checking the copy of the register, and perhaps the lawyer would know something that might be useful.


pursue v. continue to investigate 继续调查

lodgings n. rooms rented for lodging in 租用的房子

bring up raise 抚养

heartless adj. unfeeling, pitiless 无情的

vestry n. a room or building attached to a church for keeping vestments in 教堂的法衣室

react v. undergo a change or show behaviour due to some influence 反应

bite back restrain 克制

burst out suddenly begin 突然做……

disgust n. strong aversion 不屑

make one's way to go to 到……去

catch sight of see, find 看到

11.调查

下面是我在汉普郡初步调查的情况。布莱克沃特村没有一个人记得珀西瓦尔爵士离开的确切时间。园丁也仅仅记得大概是7月下旬。

“那么,开始下一步行动吧,”回到伦敦我对玛丽安说,“查出那个秘密来。我需要找到安妮·凯瑟里克的母亲,但我必须首先找到安妮的朋友克莱门茨太太,从她那里了解一些情况。可怎么才能找到克莱门茨太太?”

玛丽安想出了办法:“还记得克莱门茨太太和安妮在利默里奇附近住过的农场吗?我们给他们写信,也许他们知道克莱门茨太太的地址。”

我们很幸运,农场主的妻子真的知道地址,她回信告诉了我们。她就住在伦敦,离我们住的地方不远。第二天上午,我就找到了那个地方,敲响了房门。

克莱门茨太太急切地想知道我是否带来了安妮的消息,当我告诉她没有的时候,她非常难过。不过,她愿意把她知道的一切都告诉我。

“离开利默里奇以后,先生,”她对我说,“安妮和我去了英国东北部,这个时候安妮得了心脏病。她身体很不好,但她坚持到汉普郡去见格莱德夫人。所以我们就去了那儿,住在布莱克沃特附近的一个村子里——那地方离布莱克沃特不是很近,因为安妮非常害怕珀西瓦尔爵士。

“每一次安妮到湖边去见格莱德夫人,我都在远处跟着她。但是走那么远的路让她非常疲劳,结果她又病了。最后我代替她到湖边去见格莱德夫人。那天格莱德夫人没有来,来的是一个很胖的男人,他捎来了格莱德夫人的口信,让我们赶快回伦敦,因为如果在这里呆久了,珀西瓦尔爵士肯定会发现我们。格莱德夫人自己很快也会到伦敦去,如果我们把地址给她,她会跟我们联系。”

“但是她没跟你们联系,对吗?”我问,心想伯爵对这个善良的女人说的谎真是高明啊。

“没错,先生。我找到了住处,把地址寄给了格莱德夫人,可是两个星期过去了,我们没收到任何回音。后来,有一天一位夫人乘马车到这里来。她说她从格莱德夫人那儿来,格莱德夫人住在一家旅店,想安排同安妮见面。我答应同那位夫人去安排见面的事,把安妮一个人留在住处。可这是个恶毒的阴谋,先生。走到半路,那位夫人说要去商店取点儿东西,让我等几分钟。她去了就再没回来,先生。我等了好一阵子,然后赶忙回家——回来后却发现安妮不见了。就这么消失了。”

我让克莱门茨太太描述一下那位“夫人”的样子,根据她的描述,那人很显然是福斯科夫人。现在我明白伯爵是怎么把安妮·凯瑟里克弄到伦敦,又怎么把她和克莱门茨太太分开的了。

“我不知道安妮到底出了什么事,”克莱门茨太太伤心地说,“我调查过,甚至给她母亲写过信,但是她什么也不知道。我现在非常想念可怜的安妮。你知道,她就像我的女儿一样,先生。”

“我相信你是她的好母亲,”我说,“比她的亲生母亲还要亲。”

“那倒没什么难的,”克莱门茨太太说,“凯瑟里克太太是一个铁石心肠的女人。她好像仇视这个孩子,我提出抚养这孩子时,她非常高兴。后来有一天她把安妮带到利默里奇同她的妹妹住在一起。再后来,她就不让我见安妮了。安妮从精神病院逃出来之前,我就再没见到过她。她逃出来还是你帮的忙呢,先生。从那以后,她—直说她母亲知道一个秘密,那秘密会毁了珀西瓦尔爵士。但是,先生,我觉得安妮并不真的知道那个秘密。如果她真的知道,我相信她早就告诉我了。”

我自己也想过这个问题。但是,现在我努力把话题转向凯瑟里克太太。

“安妮出生前,你就认识凯瑟里克太太吗?”

“认识,大概有四个月的时间。我们在韦明翰是邻居。当时凯瑟里克夫妇刚刚结婚,凯瑟里克先生在韦明翰教堂当职员。结婚前,凯瑟里克太太在一个大户人家当仆人。她是一个自私、狠心的女人,对她可怜的丈夫非常不好。不久,关于她和住在附近旅店的一个年轻人有了很多风言风语。凯瑟里克先生对我丈夫说,他发现他妻子的抽屉里藏着许多贵重礼物,金戒指什么的。”

“那个年轻人是谁?”我问。

“你认识他,先生。我可怜的安妮也认识他。”

“珀西瓦尔爵士?”我的心跳开始加速。我是不是接近那个秘密了?

“就是他。他父亲那时在国外去世,珀西瓦尔爵士刚刚到这里来。大家都说很可能凯瑟里克太太早就认识珀西瓦尔爵士,她和凯瑟里克先生结婚就是想挽救自己的名声,因为,嗯,你知道……不管怎样,一天晚上,凯瑟里克先生看到他妻子和珀西瓦尔爵士在教堂的法衣室外窃窃私语。他们打了起来。珀西瓦尔爵士打了他。之后,凯瑟里克先生就离开了那个村子,再也没回来。尽管村子里流言满天飞,凯瑟里克太太还是一直住在那里。”她说自己是清白的,谁也赶不走她。不过大多数人都认为她是靠珀西瓦尔爵士的钱维持生活的。”

秘密就在这里。可是到底是什么呢?珀西瓦尔爵士是安妮的父亲,这已经不是什么秘密了,大家早就这么想了。不对,这里一定还有隐情。

“那你怎么看,克莱门茨太太?”

“嗯,如果从时间和地点来看,很明显凯瑟里克先生不是安妮的父亲。但是,安妮一点儿也不像珀西瓦尔爵士,也不像她母亲。”

我想到凯瑟里克太太当仆人的那家,也许什么时候我可以到那儿调查一下。

“真是太谢谢了,克莱门茨太太,”我说,“你回答了我那么多问题。最后我还有个请求,你能告诉我凯瑟里克太太的地址吗?我必须查清楚这个秘密,只有她可以告诉我。”

克莱门茨太太把地址给了我,但是摇了摇头,“你要小心,先生。她是一个很可怕的女人,你没有我了解她。”

*  *  *

回到住处,我把要去韦明翰的想法告诉了玛丽安,她非常担优。

“你觉得这样好吗,沃尔特?珀西瓦尔爵士是个心狠手辣的人。”

“我更担心的是你和劳拉,”我说,“就你们两个留在伦敦,还要对付伯爵。”

我们商量好每天都互相写信,如果没有收到玛丽安的来信,我就搭乘最早的一班火车回伦敦来。

*  *  *

三天后,我已经站在凯瑟里克太太的客厅里了。我面前是一个头发灰白的女人,穿着黑色绸衣。她的一双黑眼睛冷冷地盯着我。

“你说你来跟我谈我女儿的事,”她开口说,“有什么话就请讲吧。”

她的声音像她的眼神一样冷。她指了指一把椅子,我坐下以后,她开始仔细地打量我。

“你知道,”我说,“你女儿失踪了吗?”

“我非常清楚。”

“难道你不担心她可能不光是失踪了,有可能她已经死了?”

“我想过。那你是来告诉我,她已经死了?”

“是的。”

“为什么?”

提出这样荒谬的问题,她的声音、表情和举止居然没有任何变化,就好像我刚才谈的是街上死了一只猫。

“我原以为安妮的母亲会关心她的生死。”

“就为了这个啊,”她说,“但是你为什么对她或我感兴趣呢?你到这里来没有其他原因?”

“有,”我回答,“你女儿的死使我所爱的人受到了伤害——是一个叫珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士的人干的。”

我提到了珀西瓦尔的名字,她一点儿反应都没有。

“我要让他承认他所犯下的罪行,你丈夫在教堂当职员的时候,你就知道了他的一些事,我希望你把所知道的告诉我。”

我终于在她眼里看到了愤怒的目光。

“你是怎么知道这些事的?”

“克莱门茨太太把她知道的都告诉我了。”

“克莱门茨太太是个愚蠢的女人。”她压下怒火,双唇勾起一丝恶意的微笑。“呵,我开始懂了。要向珀西瓦尔爵士报仇,需要帮忙。这就是你来这里的原因。你不了解我。我在这个村子住了这么多年,才挽回我的名誉。现在大家都很尊敬我,我不会帮你的。”

“如果你害怕珀西瓦尔爵士,那是可以理解的,”我说,“他是个有权势的人,出身名门——”

令我吃惊的是,她突然大笑起来。

“出身名门!是,没错!尤其是他母亲那一边。”她不屑地说。

她这话是什么意思?我不明白。

“你和他之间的秘密不是什么婚外情,”我接着说,“是别的事情使得你们在教堂的法衣室外秘密见面。”

在提到“教堂的法衣室”时,我注意到她的脸上掠过一阵恐惧。

“滚出去!”她大声喊着,“再也不要回来。除非”——她脸上慢慢露出残忍的笑意——“除非你来告诉我他死了。”

*  *  *

天色已晚,我朝最近的旅店走去。有许多问题需要思考。为什么提到教堂的法衣室她就害怕了?为什么她瞧不起珀西瓦尔爵士的家庭,特别是他的母亲?难道他父母的婚姻有什么特别的地方?也许当地的婚姻登记记录就存放在韦明翰教堂的法衣室……

第二天我去了教堂。我已经注意到前一天晚上有人跟踪我,这会儿我又看到在伦敦克尔先生办公室外见到的那两个人在跟着我。似乎珀西瓦尔爵士已经料到我要来见凯瑟里克太太,现在又料到我来韦明翰教堂——这些恰好证明我的调查方向是正确的。

我找到了教堂职员,他找来钥匙,带我来到教堂的法衣室。法衣室只能从教堂外面进去,职员费了好大劲儿才打开那把旧锁。进去以后,我说要看看婚姻登记记录。那些记录放在一个柜子里,柜子的门很容易被撬开。

“婚姻登记记录放在这里安全吗?”我问。

“很安全,”职员回答,“另一个副本存放在邻村的律师那里,就是万斯伯勒先生的办公室,在诺雷斯伯里。”

我从珀西瓦尔爵士出生那年的记录开始往前面查,在前一年的9月,有一页在靠下的角落里记着费利克斯·格莱德爵士和诺雷斯伯里的塞西莉亚结婚。只是非常一般的记录,看不出珀西瓦尔爵士的母亲有什么特殊的地方。秘密好像比以前离我更远了。

接下来,我奔赴诺雷斯伯里万斯伯勒先生的办公室——大约有5英里的路程,但是在天黑前赶回来还是可能的。很有必要查看一下记录的副本,也许律师会知道一些有用的信息。

12
The secret

Sir Percival's spies attacked me on the road to Knowlesbury. One of them came up beside me, and bumped into me with his shoulder. I pushed him away, hard, and he immediately shouted for help. The other man ran up and the two of them held me between them. The first man accused me of attacking him, and they said they would take me to the police station in the town.

What could I do? I couldn't fight both of them and hope to get away, so I had to go with them.

At the police station the first man accused me of a violent attack, and the second man said he was a witness. I was locked up until the next magistrate's court, which was three days away. I could be released on bail, I was told, but how could I, a total stranger in the town, find a responsible person willing to pay money for my temporary freedom? The whole plan was now clear — to get me out of the way for three days, while Sir Percival did whatever was necessary to prevent his secret being discovered.

At first I was too angry to think clearly. Then I remembered Mr Dawson, the doctor. I had been to his house on my previous visit to Blackwater, so I knew his address. I wrote him a letter, explaining what had happened and begging for his help, and then asked for a messenger to deliver it. Two hours later the good doctor appeared, paid the required money and I was set free.

There was no time to lose. The news of my being free would doubtless reach Sir Percival within hours. I hurried to the lawyer's office, where I asked if I could see the copy of the Welmingham marriage register. Mr Wansborough was a pleasant man and agreed to show me the copy. In fact, he was quite amused. No one had asked to see it since his father (now dead) had locked it away in the office more than twenty years before.

As I opened the register, my hands trembled. I turned the pages to the year and month. I found the names I remembered just before, and just after, the marriage of Sir Percival's parents. And between these entries, at the bottom of the page...?

Nothing! The marriage of Sir Felix Glyde and Cecilia Elster was not there! I looked again, to be sure. No, nothing. Not a doubt about it. Sir Percival must have seen the space in the Welmingham register and written in the marriage himself.

I had never once suspected this. He was not Sir Percival Glyde at all! His parents had not been married, so he had no right to the inheritance of Blackwater Park, no right to the rank of Baronet, no right even to the name of Glyde! This was his secret — and it was now mine to use against him!

The copy of the register would be safe enough in the lawyer's office, but I decided to go back to Welmingham and make a copy of the false record from the church register. It was dark now and I ran all the way to the church clerk's house. I knocked on his door, but when he appeared, he looked suspicious and confused.

'Where are the keys?' he asked. 'Have you taken them?'

'What keys do you mean?' I said. 'I've just this minute arrived from Knowlesbury.'

'The keys of the vestry,' he said. 'The keys are gone! Someone's broken in and taken the keys.'

'Get a light,' I said, 'and let's go to the vestry. Quick!'

We ran to the church. On the path we passed a man who looked at us with frightened eyes. He seemed to be a servant of some kind. We did not stop to question him, but ran on.

As we came in sight of the vestry, I saw a high window brilliantly lit from within. There was a strange smell on the night air, a sound of cracking wood, and the light grew brighter and brighter. I ran to the door and put my hand on it. The vestry was on fire!

I heard the key working violently in the lock — I heard a man's voice behind the door, raised in terror, screaming for help.

'Oh, my God!' said the servant, who had followed us, 'it's Sir Percival!'

'God help him!' said the clerk. 'He's damaged the lock.'

*  *  *

At that moment I forget the man's crimes and see only the horror of his situation. Several people are now running towards the church and I call to them to help me break down the door. We look desperately for something to use, and at last someone finds a long heavy piece of wood.

By now the flames are shooting up out of the window, and the screams have stopped. We get the wood into position and run at the door with it. Again, and again! At last the door crashes down, but a wave of heat hits our faces and drives us back — and in the room we see nothing but a sheet of living fire.

*  *  *

The church itself was saved as the fire engine arrived soon afterwards and managed to put out the fire before it spread. They carried out the body of Sir Percival Glyde and laid it on the wet ground. I looked down on his dead face and this was how, for the first and last time, I saw him.

He must have heard that I was free and on my way back to Welmingham, so he hurried to the church, stealing the keys and locking himself in to prevent anyone coming in and finding him. All he could do was tear the page out of the register and destroy it. If the false record no longer existed, I could produce no evidence to threaten him with. He must have dropped his lamp by accident, which started the fire. Then in his urgency to get out, the lock had become damaged and the key unmoveable.

I could not leave the town. There would be a legal enquiry into the accident the next day, which I had to attend, and in any case I had to report back to the police station in Knowlesbury. I returned to the hotel and wrote to Marian, telling her everything that had happened and warning her to keep the news from Laura for the moment. With Sir Percival's death, my hopes of establishing Laura's identity had also died, and I could see no way forward at present.

The next day an envelope with my name on was delivered to the hotel. The letter inside was neither dated nor signed, but before I had read the first sentence, I knew who had written it — Mrs Catherick.


Sir — I thought you were my enemy. Now that he is dead, because of you, I consider you my friend. To thank you for what you have done, I will now tell you the things you wanted to know about my private life.

Twenty-three years ago I was a beautiful young woman living in Welmingham, married to a fool of a husband. I also knew a gentleman — I shall not call him by his name. Why should I? It was not his own. I was born with expensive tastes. This man gave me expensive presents. Naturally he wanted something in return — all men do. And what did he want? Just a little thing. The key to the church vestry, when my husband's back was turned. I liked my presents, so I got him the key. I watched him in the vestry without his knowing, and saw what he was doing. I did not know then how serious a crime it was. I said I would not tell anyone about the marriage he had added to the register if he told me about his private life. He agreed — why, you will see in a moment.

He said that he only found out that his parents were not married after his mother's death. His father confessed to it and promised to do what he could for his son. But he died having done nothing. The son came to England and took possession of the property. There was no one to say he could not. In fact, the right person to claim the property was a distant relation away at sea. However, to borrow money on the property, he needed a certificate of his parents' marriage. This was a problem — a problem which brought him to Welmingham.

As his parents had mostly lived abroad and had had no social life in England, who was to say (the priest being dead) that a private marriage had not taken place at Welmingham church? His plan was to tear out a page from the marriage register in the year before his birth and destroy it. Then he would tell his lawyers in London to get the necessary certificate, innocently referring them to the date on the page that was gone. At least no one could say that his parents were not married.

However, when he saw there was a small space at the bottom of the page in the right year, he changed his plan and took the opportunity to write in the marriage himself. It took him some time, though, to practise the handwriting and to mix the right colour of ink, so that it looked the same.

After my husband caught me talking secretly to him and after their fight together, I asked my fine gentleman to clear my name and to say there had been nothing between us. But he refused. He wanted everyone to believe something false, so that they would never suspect the truth. He then told me that the punishment for his crime, and anyone who helped him, was life in prison. He frightened me! If I spoke out, I was just as lost as he was. He then agreed to make me a yearly payment if I said nothing and stayed in Welmingham, where he could always find me and where there was no danger of my making friends and talking. This was hard, but I accepted.

Many years later, when my daughter was with me at home, I received a letter from him which made me very angry. I lost control of myself and said, in her presence, that 'I could destroy him if I let out his secret'. Then one day he came to our house and called her a fool. Immediately she shouted, 'Ask for my pardon, now, or I'll let out your secret and destroy your life. 'My own words! He went white. Then he swore at us. It ended, as you know, by his shutting her up in an asylum. I tried to tell him she knew nothing. But he did not believe me. My daughter knew that she had frightened him and that he was responsible for shutting her up because he believed she knew his secret. That's why she hated him. But she never to her dying day knew what his secret actually was.

I will end by saying that you insult me if you think my husband was not my daughter's father. Please do not ask further questions about that. To protect myself, I mention no names in this letter, nor do I sign it.


magistrate n. an official conducting a court for minor cases 法官

bail n. money left with a court of law to prove that a prisoner will return when their trial starts 保释金

entry n. an item 条目

brilliantly adv. very brightly 非常亮

produce v. bring forward for consideration or inspection 拿出

12.秘密

在去往诺雷斯伯里的路上,珀西瓦尔爵士的人向我发起了攻击。其中一个走到我旁边,用肩膀撞我。我用力把他推开,他马上大喊起来。另一个人跑过来,他们两个把我夹在了中间。第一个人指责我打他,他们说要把我带到镇上的警察局去。

我能怎么办呢?我没办法打倒他们两个再逃走,现在只得跟他们走了。

到了警察局,第一个人说我打他,另一个人说他是证人。我被关了起来,等着三天后法官开庭审理。他们告诉我可以保释,可是我在这里一个人也不认识,怎么可能找到一个愿意负责的人出钱让我获得暂时的自由呢?他们的整个计划很清楚——让我消失三天,珀西瓦尔爵士就利用这段时间尽一切可能保证他的秘密不被发现。

刚开始,我非常气愤,头脑中一片混乱。后来我想起了道森先生,那位医生。上一次我去布莱克沃特的时候到过他家,所以我知道他的地址。我给他写了封信,告诉他出了什么事,请求他来帮我,然后找了一个送信的帮我把信送走。两个小时后,好心的医生来了,为我交了保释金,我自由了。

必须抓紧时间,因为我被释放的消息肯定几个小时之内就会传到珀西瓦尔爵士那里。我赶到律师的办公室,请求看一下韦明翰的结婚登记记录。万斯伯勒先生是个和气的人,他同意让我看副本。其实,应该说他很高兴,因为自从他父亲(现在已经去世了)20多年前把文件锁在办公室后,从未有人要求查看过。

我翻开记录副本的时候双手在颤抖。我找到了珀西瓦尔爵士父母结婚的年份和月份,以及在他们之前和之后结婚的男女方姓名记录。但是,在这些条目之间,在那一页的底下……?

什么也没有!费利克斯·格莱德爵士和塞西莉亚·埃尔斯特的婚姻根本就没有记录!为了保险起见,我又看了一遍。没有,什么也没有,毫无疑问。珀西瓦尔爵士可能在韦明翰的记录中看到了那个空白,然后自己填上了那条记录。

我从未怀疑到这一点。他根本就不是珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士,他的父母没有结婚,他根本没有权利继承布莱克沃特庄园和爵位,甚至根本无权姓格莱德!这就是他的秘密——现在我要利用这个秘密来对付他!

婚姻登记的副本放在律师的办公室很安全,我决定返回韦明翰,复制一份教堂的假记录。天已经黑了,我一路跑到教堂职员的住处。我敲了门,职员出来的时候,脸上布满了疑虑。

“钥匙在哪儿?”他问我,“你把钥匙拿走了吗?”

“什么钥匙?”我说,“我刚从诺雷斯伯里过来。”

“法衣室的钥匙,”他说,“钥匙不见了!有人进来偷走了钥匙。”

“拿上灯,”我说,“我们去法衣室,快!”

我们向教堂跑去。路上碰见一个人,似乎是个仆人,他惊慌地看了看我们。我们没有停下来问他任何问题,而是继续向前跑。

当我们看到法衣室的时候,我发现从一个高处的窗户里发出很亮的光,夜晚的空气中有一股奇怪的味道,可以听到木头劈啪作响的声音,那光变得越来越亮。我跑到法衣室的门口,用手摸了摸门。法衣室起火了!

我听到钥匙在锁里使劲转动的声音——我听到门后有人害怕地高声喊救命。

“噢,上帝!”跟着我们跑过来的仆人说,“是珀西瓦尔爵士!”

“上帝啊,救救他!”职员说,“他把锁弄坏了。”

alt

*  *  *

这个时候,我忘记了这个人的罪恶,只想到他现在的危急处境。有几个人正朝教堂跑过来,我叫他们帮我把门弄开。我们到处找能弄开门的东西,最后有人找来一根很粗的长木头。

这时,火焰已经窜出了窗户,呼叫声已听不见了。我们抬着长木头,一次又一次朝门撞过去。最后门被撞倒了,热浪从屋里冲出来,使我们不得不往后退去——屋里除了一团火什么也看不见。

*  *  *

救火车很快赶到,没等火势蔓延就把火扑灭了,教堂本身没有受到破坏。人们把珀西瓦尔爵士的尸体抬了出来,放在潮湿的地上。我看了看他的脸,这是我第一次也是最后一次看到他。

他一定是听说我被放出来,而且正赶回韦明翰,所以急忙赶到教堂,偷了钥匙,把自己锁在屋子里,不让任何人进去发现他。他唯一能做的就是把那一页从登记簿上撕下来销毁。如果假记录没有了,我就拿不出证据来威胁他。他可能不小心把灯掉到地上,引起了大火。然后,他急着要出来,匆忙中弄坏了锁,钥匙转不动了。

我现在还不能离开这里。转天会有一个事故的法律调查,我必须参加。而且不管怎样,我还得向诺雷斯伯里的警察局报到。我回到旅店,写信给玛丽安,告诉她这里发生的事情,提醒她先不要把这个消息告诉劳拉。珀西瓦尔爵士死了,我证明劳拉身份的希望也不复存在,现在我不知下一步该怎么办。

第二天,一个写着我名字的信封被送到了旅店。里面的信既没有日期,也没有署名。但是还没看完第一句,我就知道是谁写的信了——凯瑟里克太太。

先生——我原以为你是我的敌人。现在因为你,他已经死了,我认为你是我的朋友。为感谢你的所作所为,我现在把你想知道的我的私事告诉你。

23年前,我是一个年轻漂亮的姑娘,住在韦明翰,嫁给了一位傻乎乎的丈夫。我还结识了一位绅士——我不会称呼他的名字。为什么要那样叫他?那不是他的名字。我生来就喜欢贵重的东西,这个人送给我许多贵重礼物,当然他是需要回报的——男人都是这样。这个男人要的是什么?很简单的一样东西。教堂法衣室的钥匙,当然要趁我丈夫不在的时候。我喜欢那些礼物,所以给他弄到了钥匙。我盯着他,看他在法衣室干什么,他并没发觉。当时我不知道那是多么严重的罪行。我跟他说,要是他告诉我他的私事,我不会告诉任何人他擅自增加结婚记录的事。他答应了——至于为什么,你往下看就明白了。

他说在他母亲死后,他才知道他的父母并没有结婚。他父亲承认了这件事,答应尽力为他儿子做些什么。可是他什么都没来得及做,就死去了。他的儿子来到英国继承了遗产。没人说他不能继承,实际上,真正应该继承遗产的是一个正在出海的远亲。然而,要想用那笔财产去借钱,他需要一份父母的结婚证明。这是个问题,为解决这个问题,他来到了韦明翰。

因为他父母大部分时间生活在国外,在英国没什么交际,所以谁会说(牧师已经死了)韦明翰教堂没举行过一场私下的婚礼呢?他的计划是把他出生前那一年的婚姻登记页撕下来销毁。然后,他就会告诉伦敦的律师们去取必要的证明文件,并假装不知情地把那个已经不存在的登记页上的日期告诉他们。至少谁也不会说他父母没结婚。

但是,他发现那年的登记页上靠下面有一点空白,于是改变了主意,趁机把他父母的婚姻写了进去。当然,他也颇费了些时间去模仿登记用的笔迹,还有配制合适的墨水颜色,让这条记录看起来跟其他的没有差别。

我丈夫看到我和他密谈,他们两个打了一架以后,我叫他帮我洗清名声,告诉别人我们之间什么也没发生,但是他拒绝了。他希望大家都相信并没有发生的事情,这样一来,人们就不会去想真相如何了。他还跟我说如果他的罪行败露,他以及帮过他的人都将被终生监禁。他让我害怕极了!如果我说出他的秘密,那我和他都完了。他答应每年支付我一笔钱,条件是我保持沉默,继续住在韦明翰,让他随时可以找到我,也免得我与人交朋友,然后乱讲话。虽说条件很苛刻,我还是答应了。

很多年以后,那时我女儿同我在一起,我收到他的一封信把我惹恼了。我无法控制自己,当着女儿的面说:“我把他的秘密说出去就能毁了他。”后来有一天,他来我家,管我女儿叫傻瓜,她一下子喊了起来:“赶快请求我原谅你,不然我就把你的秘密说出去,毁了你。”完全是我说过的话!他的脸一下子变白了。他向我们破口大骂。最后,你知道,他把她关进了精神病院。我试图告诉他,她什么也不知道。可是他不相信我。我女儿明白她使他害怕了,是他把她关进了精神病院,因为他认为她知道了他的秘密。这就是为什么她那么恨他。但是,她其实到死也不知道那秘密到底是什么。

最后我要说的是,如果你认为我丈夫不是我女儿的父亲,你就是污辱我。请不要多问了。为了保护我自己,信中没有提到任何名字,我也不会署名。

13
The threat

Mrs Catherick's extraordinary and shameless letter filled me with disgust. My interest in Sir Percival Glyde's crime was now at an end, but I decided to keep the letter in case it might help me find out who Anne's father really was.

Later in the morning I went to the legal enquiry into Sir Percival's death. I was only asked to say what had happened. I was not asked how I thought the keys had been taken, how the fire had been caused, or why Sir Percival had gone into the vestry. As no one could explain any of these things, the verdict at the end of the enquiry was 'death by accident'.

Afterwards, a gentleman who was also at the enquiry walked back to the hotel with me. He had heard from Sir Percival's lawyer that a distant relation abroad would now inherit Blackwater Park. This was obviously the person who should have inherited it twenty-three years before. If I made Sir Percival's crime public, it would be to no one's advantage now. If I kept the secret, the true character of the man who had cheated Laura into marrying him would remain hidden. And for her sake, I wished to keep it hidden.

I still could not leave Hampshire, as I had to report to the police station in Knowlesbury the next day. I spent another night at the hotel and in the morning went to the post office to collect the letter from Marian. As promised, we had written to each other every day, and Marian's letters had been full of cheerful news. This morning's letter was short, and terrified me.


Come back as soon as you can. We have had to move. Come to Gower's Walk, Fulham (number five). I will look out for you. Don't be alarmed about us, we are both safe and well. But come back. — Marian


What had happened? What dreadful thing had Count Fosco done while I was away? In spite of my anxiety, I had to wait. I paid my bill at the hotel and took a cab to Knowlesbury.

At the police station, as I expected, no one appeared to continue the action against me and I was allowed to go. Half an hour later I was on the train back to London.

I got to Gower's Walk in Fulham at about nine o'clock. Both Laura and Marian came to the door to let me in. Laura was much brighter and happier, full of plans for the future and for her drawing and painting. Marian's face was tired and anxious. I could see that she had spared Laura the knowledge of the terrible death in Welmingham and the true reason for moving to new lodgings. When Laura had left us and we could speak freely, I tried to give some expression to my feelings and told Marian how much I admired her for the courage and love she had shown.

She was too generous to listen to me, and turned the conversation to my worries.

'I'm so sorry for my letter — it must have alarmed you.'

'Yes, it did,' I admitted. 'Was I right in thinking that you moved because of a threat by Count Fosco?'

'Perfectly right,' she said. 'I saw him yesterday, and worse than that, Walter — I spoke to him.'

'Spoke to him? Did he come to the house?'

'He did. Yesterday, when I was passing the window, I saw him in the street. Then there was a knock on the door. I rushed out and there he was, dressed in black, with his smooth face and his deadly smile. I closed the door behind me so that Laura would not see or hear him.'

'What did he say?' I asked anxiously.

'He greeted me, then repeated the warning in his letter to me. He said he had not been able to prevent Sir Percival's violence towards you, and he had found out our address in order to protect his own interests. You were followed, Walter, on your return home after your first journey to Hampshire. He used this information only when he heard of Sir Percival's death, because he believed you would act against him next.'

'And he was right,' I said. 'What did he say about me?'

'He was very cool, very polite, and very threatening,' said Marian. 'He said, "Warn Mr Hartright! He has an intelligent and powerful man to deal with. Let him be content with what he has got. Say to him, if he attacks me, I will use all my power to destroy him. There is nothing I will not do. Dear lady, good morning." Then he just looked at me with his cold grey eyes, and walked away.

'I ran back inside, and told Laura we had to move. We needed a quieter neighbourhood with better air for the sake of her health. I said you'd wanted us to do that, and why didn't we do it now to surprise you when you got back. She liked that idea, and was quite happy to move. I found these lodgings through an old school friend. I did the right thing, didn't I, Walter?'

I answered her warmly and gratefully, as I really felt.

But the anxious look remained on her face, and I saw in her eyes her continuing fear of the Count's cleverness and energy.

'What do you think of his message, Walter? What do you plan to do next?'

'I decided weeks ago that Laura will be received in her uncle's house again,' I answered. 'And my decision remains the same. Count Fosco will answer for his crime to ME.'

Marian's eyes lit up. She said nothing, but I could see how strongly she supported this plan.

'I know the risks are great,' I said, 'but it must be done. I'm not foolish enough to try this before I'm well prepared. I can wait. Let him think his message has produced its effect. He will start to feel safe. Also, my position towards you and Laura ought to be a stronger one than it is now.'

'How can it be stronger?' she asked, surprised.

'Marian, I would like you to say to Laura, gently, that her husband is dead.'

'Oh, Walter, so soon? You have a reason for this, don't you?'

'Yes. I cannot speak to Laura yet. But one day, not too distant, I want to tell her that I love her.'

Marian looked at me for a time, then gave a sad, gentle smile. 'Yes, I understand. I think I owe it to her and to you, Walter, to tell her of her husband's death.'

The next day Laura knew that death had released her from her marriage, and her husband's name was never mentioned among us again.

*  *  *

Our life returned to its usual pattern, but I did not forget the Count. I discovered that he had rented his house in St John's Wood for another six months, so I was fairly sure he would still be in London, within my reach, when the time came to act.

We finally solved the puzzle of who Anne Catherick's father was. When I went again to see Mrs Clements and to tell her about Anne's death, she remembered where Mrs Catherick had worked as a servant. Her employer had been a Mr Donthorne.

We wrote to Mr Donthorne, who replied with some very interesting information. Philip Fairlie, Laura's father, had been a great friend of his when they were young, and a frequent house guest. He was a handsome man and fond of female company. Mr Donthorne was fairly certain that Philip Fairlie had been staying at his house when Mrs Catherick was employed as a servant, in the year before Anne was born.

When Marian and I checked the dates; when we considered that Anne and Laura looked so alike; and when we took into account the fact that Laura looked very much like her father, we were in no doubt that here was the solution. Philip Fairlie was Anne's father, and so Anne was Laura's half-sister.

Now, at last, the woman in white, that strange sad shadow walking in the loneliness of the night, could rest in peace.

*  *  *

Four months passed. Laura grew stronger in body and in mind. She was almost her old self, and when we talked, it was as we used to talk at Limmeridge. If I touched her by accident, I felt my heart beating fast, and I saw the answering colour in her face.

In April, we went for a holiday at the seaside. While we were there I told Marian that when we returned to London, I was determined to force a confession from Count Fosco — to make him tell me the real date of Laura's journey to London.

'But if I am to challenge the Count, for Laura's safety, I think I should challenge him as her husband. Do you agree, Marian?'

'With every word,' she said. 'I parted you both once. Wait here, my brother, my best and dearest friend! Till Laura comes, and tells you what I have done now!'

She kissed my forehead and left the room. I waited by the window, staring out at the beach, seeing nothing, hardly able to breathe. The door opened, and Laura came in alone. When we parted at Limmeridge, she had come into the room slowly, in sorrow and hesitation. Now she ran to me, with the light of happiness shining in her face. She put her arms around me, and her sweet lips came to meet mine.

'My darling!' she whispered, 'May we say we love each other now? Oh, I am so happy at last!'

Ten days later we were even happier. We were married.


verdict n. a decision; a judgment 结论

spare somebody the knowledge of keeping somebody from knowing 不让某人知道……

deadly adj. horrible 可怕的

answer for be responsible 受到惩罚

fairly adv. to a noticeable degree 相当地

13.威胁

凯瑟里克太太奇怪而又不知羞耻的来信使我对她充满了鄙夷。现在,我对珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行已经没有兴趣了,但我还是决定留着这封信,也许它会帮我找出安妮的父亲究竟是谁。

上午晚些时候,我去参加珀西瓦尔爵士死亡的法律调查。他们只让我说说发生了什么,没有问我如何看待钥匙为什么会被拿走,火灾是怎么发生的,或者为什么珀西瓦尔爵士会进到法衣室去。没有人能够解释这些问题,所以调查的最终结论是“意外死亡”。

之后,一位也参加了调查的男子和我一起走回旅店。他从珀西瓦尔爵士的律师那里得知,一个国外的远亲现在要来继承布莱克沃特庄园。很明显,这就是23年前应该继承庄园的那个人。假如我把珀西瓦尔爵士的罪行公之于众,现在对谁都没有好处。假如我不把秘密说出去,这个欺骗劳拉与之结婚的人的真正人品就不会有人知道。但为了劳拉,我愿意保守这个秘密。

我还不能离开汉普郡,因为转天还要去诺雷斯伯里警察局。我在旅店又住了一晚。第二天一早,我去邮局取玛丽安的来信。我们按约定每天通信。玛丽安的来信一直都是好消息。今天早上的来信很短,但却令我害怕。


请尽快回来。我们不得不搬了家。到富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街(5号)来找我们。我也会留意等你。不必为我们担心,我们很安全。一定快回来。玛丽安


出了什么事?我不在的时候,福斯科伯爵又做了什么坏事?尽管非常担心,我还是得等。我付清了旅店的费用,叫了辆马车直奔诺雷斯伯里。

在警察局,不出我所料,没人来继续同我纠缠,我可以走了。半个小时后,我登上了返回伦敦的火车。

大约9点钟,我赶到了富勒姆的戈瓦沃克街。劳拉和玛丽安都到门口迎接我。劳拉的脸色比以前好多了,人也高兴多了,对将来和她的绘画有很多想法。玛丽安的脸上带着倦容和忧虑。看得出她没有把珀西瓦尔死在韦明翰的可怕消息和搬到新住处的真实原因告诉劳拉。劳拉走开以后,我们可以随便谈话了。我想告诉她我非常敬佩她的勇气和她对劳拉表现出的爱。

这位慷慨的姑娘没等我说完就把话题转到我的担忧上来了。

alt

“给你写那样的信,真是对不起——你一定很为我们担心吧。”

“是的,我的确很担心,”我说,“我猜你们搬家是由于福斯科伯爵的威胁,对吗?”

“一点儿不错,”她回答,“我昨天看见他了,更糟糕的是,沃尔特——我跟他说话了。”

“跟他说话了?他去你们的住处了?”

“是的。昨天,我从窗旁走过的时候,看见他在街上。过了一会儿,有人敲门。我马上跑过去开门,就是他,穿一身黑色衣服,光滑的脸上带着吓人的微笑。我关上了身后的门,这样劳拉就看不见他,也听不见他说话了。”

“他都说了什么?”我急切地问。

“他跟我打了招呼,然后再一次重复了他在信中对我的警告。他说他没能阻止珀西瓦尔爵士针对你的恶劣行为,他找到我们的住处是要保护他自己的利益。你第一次去汉普郡回来的时候就被跟踪了,沃尔特。他在听到珀西瓦尔爵士的死讯后才决定登门,因为他认为你下一个对付的目标就是他。”

“让他说对了,”我说,“他说我什么了?”

“他非常冷静而有礼,同时又非常具有威胁性,”玛丽安接着说,“他说,‘请警告哈特里特先生!他要对付的是一个有智慧、有权势的人。叫他对已经得到的东西知足吧。告诉他,如果他跟我对着干,我将不遗余力地干掉他。我会不择手段的。亲爱的小姐,再见。’然后,他用冷酷的灰眼睛看了看我,就走了。

“我赶忙跑进屋,跟劳拉说我们得搬家。为她的健康着想,我们需要一个更安静、空气更好的地方。我说你也希望我们搬家,为什么不现在就搬,等你回来给你一个惊喜呢。她喜欢这个主意,欢天喜地地同意了。我通过一个校友找到这个住处。我做得没错吧,沃尔特?”

我说她做得非常好,这是我的心里话。

但是,她脸上依然带着忧虑,从她的眼神里看得出,她还在害怕伯爵的精明和权势。

“沃尔特,你怎么看他的那些话?下一步你准备怎么做?”

“几星期前,我就决定让劳拉重新在她叔叔家得到应有的承认,”我回答,“现在我还是这样想的。我要让福斯科伯爵为他犯下的罪行付出代价。”

玛丽安的眼睛一亮,虽然没有说话,但是看得出她非常支持这个计划。

“我清楚这样做风险很大,”我说,“但这件事一定要做。我不会愚蠢到没做好准备就动手。我可以等。让他觉得他的话起了作用,认为已经平安无事了。另外,我跟你和劳拉的关系也该比现在更明确。”

“怎么个更明确法?”她吃惊地问。

“玛丽安,我希望你能心平气和地告诉劳拉,她丈夫已经死了。”

“噢,沃尔特,这么快就告诉她?你这样做是不是有什么原因?”

“是的,我现在还不能跟劳拉谈,但总有一天,不会太久,我会告诉她我爱她。”

玛丽安看了我一会儿,然后淡淡地、略带忧伤地笑了笑,“好吧,我明白。我想这是我欠你们的,沃尔特,我会把她丈夫的死讯告诉她。”

第二天,劳拉知道她丈夫死了,她也从这段婚姻中解脱了,那以后我们谁也没再提过她丈夫的名字。

*  *  *

我们的生活恢复了往常的模式,但是我没有忘记伯爵。我了解到他在圣约翰伍德的房子又续租了6个月,因此可以肯定,到了我采取行动的时候,他还会在伦敦,我还可以找到他。

我们终于弄清了安妮·凯瑟里克的父亲是谁。我又去见了克莱门茨太太,告诉她安妮已经死了。她记起凯瑟里克太太当仆人的地方。她的雇主姓多桑。

我们给多桑先生写信,他在回信中告诉我们一些非常有趣的信息。菲利普·费尔利,就是劳拉的父亲,年轻时和他是好友,也是他家里的常客。菲利普风流潇洒,喜欢女色。多桑先生非常肯定凯瑟里克太太在他家当仆人的那段时间,也就是安妮出生的前一年,菲利普·费尔利一直住在他家。

玛丽安和我算了算时间,我们想到安妮和劳拉如此地相像,想到劳拉如此地像她父亲,我们得到了非常肯定的答案。菲利普·费尔利是安妮的父亲,安妮和劳拉是同父异母的姐妹。

现在,那位白衣女人,那位在寂静深夜出现的古怪而哀伤的女人终于可以安息了。

*  *  *

四个月过去了,劳拉的身体渐渐强壮起来,头脑也慢慢清楚了。她几乎又是原来的她了。我们交谈的时候,感觉和当初在利默里奇谈话时一样。当我无意间碰到她的时候,我感到心跳在加速,而且我注意到她也脸红了。

4月,我们到海边度假。在那里,我告诉玛丽安,等回到伦敦,我一定要迫使福斯科伯爵说实话,让他说出劳拉回伦敦的真正日期。

“但是为了劳拉的安全,我想如果我挑战伯爵的话,最好以她丈夫的身份前去,你同意吗,玛丽安?”

“完全同意,”玛丽安说,“我曾让你们两个分开,你在这儿等我一下,我的好朋友!一会儿劳拉就过来,她会告诉你我这次是怎么做的,好吗?”

她吻了吻我的额头,走了出去。我在窗旁等着,眼睛望着海滩,却什么也看不到,我紧张得几乎喘不过气来。门开了,劳拉一个人走进来。我们在利默里奇分手的时候,她是慢慢地走进房间的,神情充满了痛苦和犹豫。这会儿,她跑向我,脸上闪耀着幸福的光芒。她张开手臂紧紧地拥抱我,用甜润的双唇吻着我。

“亲爱的!”她轻声说,“现在我们能对彼此说‘我爱你’了吧?啊,我终于得到幸福了!”

十天以后,我们的幸福又向前迈进了一步,我们结婚了。

14
The confession

A fortnight later, we returned to London, and I began to prepare for my battle with the Count. It was now early May and the rental agreement for his house ended in June. In my new happiness with Laura (to whom we never mentioned the Count's name), I was sometimes tempted to change my mind and to leave things as they were. But she still had dreams, terrible dreams that made her cry out in her sleep, and I knew I had to go on.

First, I tried to find out more about the Count. Marian told me that he had not been back to Italy for many years. Had he been obliged to leave Italy for political reasons, I wondered? But Marian also said that at Blackwater Park he had received official-looking letters with Italian stamps on, which would seem to contradict this idea. Perhaps he was a spy, I thought. That might explain why he had stayed in England so long after the successful completion of his plot. Who could I ask who might know something? Another Italian, perhaps — and I suddenly thought of my old friend, Professor Pesca.

Before I did that, I decided to have a look at the Count, as up to this time I had never once set eyes on him. So one morning I went to Forest Road, St John's Wood, and waited near his house. Eventually, he came out and I followed behind him as he walked towards the centre of London. Marian had prepared me for his enormous size and fashionable clothes, but not for the horrible freshness and cheerfulness and energy of the man.

Near Oxford Street he stopped to read a sign announcing an opera, and then went into the opera ticket office, which was nearby. I went over to read the sign. The opera was being performed that evening, and it seemed likely that the Count would be in the audience.

If I invite Pesca to the opera, I thought, I can point the Count out to him and find out if he knows him. So I bought two tickets myself, sent Pesca a note, and that evening called to take him with me to the opera.

The music had already started when we went in, and all the seats were filled. However, there was room to stand at the sides. I looked around and saw the Count sitting in a seat half-way down, so I placed myself exactly on a line with him, with Pesca standing at my side. When the first part finished, the audience, including the Count, rose to look about them.

When the Count was looking in our direction, I nudged Pesca with my elbow. 'You see that tall fat man? Do you know him?'

'No,' said Pesca. 'Is he famous? Why do you point him out?'

'Because I have a reason for wanting to know more about him. He's an Italian, and his name is Count Fosco. Do you know that name? Look — stand on this step so that you can see him better.'

A slim, fair-haired man, with a scar on his left cheek, was standing near us. I saw him look at Pesca, and then follow the direction of his eyes to the Count. Pesca repeated that he did not know him, and as he spoke, the Count looked our way again.

The eyes of the two Italians met.

In that second I was suddenly convinced that, while Pesca may not have known the Count, the Count certainly knew Pesca!

Not only knew him, but — more surprising still — feared him as well. The Count's face had frozen into a dreadful stillness, the cheeks as pale as death, the cold grey eyes staring in terror.

Nearby, the man with the scar also seemed to be watching with interest the effect that Pesca had had on the Count.

'How the fat man stares!' Pesca said, looking round at me. 'But I've never seen him before in my life.'

As Pesca looked away, the Count turned, moving quickly towards the back of the theatre, where the crowd was thickest. I caught Pesca's arm and, to his great surprise, hurried him with me after the Count. The slim man with the scar had apparently also decided to leave, and was already ahead of us. By the time Pesca and I reached the entrance, neither the Count nor the slim man was in sight.

'Pesca,' I said urgently, 'I must speak to you in private. May we go to your lodgings to talk?'

'What on earth is the matter?' cried Pesca.

I hurried him on without answering. The way the Count had left the theatre, his extraordinary anxiety to avoid Pesca, made me fear that he might go even further — and out of my reach.

In Pesca's lodgings, I explained everything as fast as I could, while Pesca stared at me in great confusion and amazement.

'He knows you — he's afraid of you. He left the theatre to escape you,' I said. 'There must be a reason, Pesca! Think of your own life before you came to England. You left Italy for political reasons. I don't ask what they were. But could that man's terror be connected with your past in some way?'

To my inexpressible surprise, these harmless words seemed to terrify Pesca. His face went white and he started to tremble.

'Walter!' he whispered. 'You don't know what you ask.'

I stared at him. 'Pesca, forgive me. I didn't mean to cause you pain. I spoke only because of what my wife has suffered from that man's cruel actions. You must forgive me.'

I rose to go. He stopped me before I reached the door.

'Wait,' he said. 'You saved my life once. You have a right to hear from me what you want to know, even though I could be killed for it. I only ask that, if you find the connection between my past and that man Fosco, you do not tell me.'

Then, his face still pale as the memories of the past crowded in on him, he told me the story.

'In my youth I belonged — and still belong — to a secret political society. Let's call it the Brotherhood, I can't tell you its real name. But I took too many risks and did something which put other members in danger. So I was ordered to go and live in England and to wait. I went — I have waited — I still wait. I could be called away tomorrow, or in ten years. I cannot know.

'The purpose of the Brotherhood is to fight for the rights of the people. There is a president in Italy, and presidents abroad. Each of these has his secretary. The presidents and secretaries know the members, but members don't know each other, until it's considered necessary. Every member of the Brotherhood is identified by a small round mark burnt into the skin, high up on the inside of their left arm.'

He rolled up his sleeve and showed me his own mark.

'If anyone betrays the Brotherhood,' he went on, 'he is a dead man. Another member, a distant stranger or a neighbour, will be ordered to kill him. No one can leave the society — ever.'

Pesca paused, then continued. 'In Italy I was chosen to be secretary. The members at that time were brought face to face with the president, and were also brought face to face with me. You understand me — I see it in your face. But tell me nothing, I beg you! Let me stay free of a responsibility which horrifies me.

'I do not know the man at the opera,' he said finally. 'If he knows me, he is so changed, or disguised, that I do not know him. Leave me now, Walter. I have said enough.'

'I thank you with all my heart, Pesca,' I said. 'You will never, never regret the trust you have placed in me.'

Walking home, my heart beat with excitement. Here at last, surely, was my weapon against the Count! I was convinced he was a member of the Brotherhood, had betrayed it, and believed that he had been recognized tonight. His life was now in danger. What else could explain his extreme terror at seeing Pesca?

And what would he do next? Leave London as fast as he could. If I went to his house and tried to stop him, he would not hesitate to kill me. To protect myself, I had to make his safety depend on mine. I hurried home and wrote this letter to Pesca:

The man at the opera, Fosco, is a member of your society and has betrayed it. Go instantly to his house at 5 Forest Road, St John's Wood. I am already dead. Use your power against him without delay.

I signed and dated the letter, and wrote on the envelope: Keep until nine o'clock tomorrow morning. If you do not hear from me before then, open the envelope and read the contents.

I then found a messenger, told him to deliver the letter and bring back a note from Professor Pesca to say he had received it. Twenty minutes later I had the note, and as I was leaving, Marian came to the door, looking anxious.

'It's tonight, isn't it?' she said. 'You're going to the Count.'

'Yes, it's the last chance, and the best.'

'Oh, Walter, not alone! Let me go with you. Don't go alone?'

'No, Marian. You must stay here and guard Laura for me. Then I will be easy in my mind when I face the Count.'

*  *  *

As I approached the Count's house, I passed the man with the scar on his cheek, whom I had noticed earlier at the opera. What was he doing here, I wondered?

I sent in my card, and I still do not know why the Count let me into his house at half past eleven at night. Was he just curious to see me? He would not have known that I was at the opera with Pesca, and I suppose he thought he had nothing to fear from me.

He was still in his evening suit, and there was a travelling case on the floor, with books, papers, and clothes all around him. My guess had been right.

'You come here on business, Mr Hartright?' he said, looking at me with curiosity. 'I cannot think what that might be.'

'You are obviously preparing for a journey,' I said. 'That is my business. I know why you are leaving London.'

'So you know why I am leaving London?' He went over to a table and opened a drawer.' Tell me the reason, if you please.'

'I can show you the reason,' I said. 'Roll up the sleeve on your left arm, and you will see it.'

His cold grey eyes stared into mine. There was a long heartbeat of silence. I was as certain as if I had seen it that he had a gun hidden in the drawer, and that my life hung by a thread.

'Wait a little,' I said. 'Before you act, I advise you to read this note.' Moving slowly and carefully, I passed him Pesca's note.

He read the lines aloud.

Your letter is received. If I don't hear from you before nine o'clock, I will open the envelope when the clock strikes.

Another man might have needed an explanation, but not the Count. His expression changed, and he closed the drawer.

'You are cleverer than I thought,' he said. 'I cannot leave before nine as I have to wait for a passport to be delivered. Your information may be true or may be false — where did you get it?'

'I refuse to tell you.'

'And that unsigned note you showed me — who wrote it?'

'A man whom you have every reason to fear.'

A pause. 'What do you want of me, Mr Hartright? Is it to do with a lady, perhaps?'

'Yes, my wife,' I answered.

He looked at me in real amazement, and I saw at once that he no longer considered me a dangerous man. He folded his arms and listened to me with a cold smile.

'You are guilty of a wicked crime,' I went on. 'But you can keep the money. All I want is a signed confession of the plot and a proof of the date my wife travelled to London.'

'Good!' he said. 'Those are your conditions; here are mine. One, Madame Fosco and I leave the house when we please and you do not try to stop us. Two, you wait here until my agent comes early tomorrow morning and you give him an order to get back your letter unopened. You then allow us half an hour to leave the house. Three, you agree to fight me at a place to be arranged later abroad. Do you accept my conditions — yes or no?'

His quick decision, his cleverness and force of character amazed me. For a second I hesitated. Should I let him escape? Yes, the evidence I needed to prove Laura's identity was far more important than revenge.

'I accept your conditions,' I said.

At once, he called for coffee and sat down to write. He wrote quickly for quite some time. Finally, he jumped up, declared that he had finished and read out his statement, which I accepted as satisfactory. He gave me the address of the company from whom he had hired the cab to collect Laura, and also gave me a letter signed by Sir Percival. It was dated 25th July, and announced the journey of Lady Glyde to London on 26th July. So there it was. On 25th July, the date of her death certificate in London, Laura was alive in Hampshire, about to make a journey the next day.

The Count then called in Madame Fosco to watch me while he slept. Early in the morning his agent arrived and I wrote a note for Pesca. An hour later, the agent returned with my unopened letter and the Count's passport.

'Remember the third condition!' the Count said as he left. 'You will hear from me, Mr Hartright.' Then he and the Countess got into the agent's cab with their bags and drove away, leaving the agent with me to make sure I did not follow.

As I watched them leave, another cab went by and I saw inside the man with the scar on his cheek. What was his business with the Count, I wondered? I had seen him too often now for it to be chance. Perhaps I had fought my own battle with the Count just in time. You cannot get a signed confession out of a dead man.

While I waited for the agreed half hour, I read the document that the Count had written for me.


Statement by Isidor Ottavio Baldassare Fosco

In the summer of 1850 I arrived in England on delicate political business and stayed with my friend, Sir Percival Glyde. We both urgently needed large amounts of money. The only person who had such money was his wife, from whom not a penny could be obtained until her death. To make matters worse, my friend had other private problems. A woman called Anne Catherick was hidden in the neighbourhood, was communicating with Lady Glyde, and knew a secret which could ruin him. And if he was ruined, what would happen to our financial interests?

The first thing to do was to find Anne Catherick, who, I was told, looked very much like Lady Glyde and who had escaped from a mad-house. I had the fantastic idea of changing the names, places and lives of Lady Glyde and Anne Catherick, the one with the other. The wonderful results of this change would be the gain of £ 30,000 and the keeping of Sir Percival's secret.

I found Anne Catherick and persuaded her and her friend to return to London. I rented a house in St John's Wood for myself, and obtained from Mr Fairlie in Limmeridge an invitation for Lady Glyde to visit. For my plan to work, it was necessary for Lady Glyde to leave Blackwater Park alone and stay a night at my house on her way to Limmeridge. This plan was made easier by Miss Halcombe's illness. I returned to Blackwater Park, and when Miss Halcombe was out of danger, I got rid of the doctor and instructed Sir Percival to get rid of the servants.

Next, we sent Mrs Michelson away for a few days, and one night Madame Fosco, Mrs Rubelle and I moved the sleeping Miss Halcombe to an unused part of the house. I left for London in the morning with my wife, leaving Sir Percival to persuade Lady Glyde that her sister had gone to Limmeridge and that she should follow her, breaking her journey in London at my house.

On 24th July, with my wife's help, I got hold of Anne Catherick, and took her to my house as Lady Glyde. However, when she saw no one she recognized, she screamed with fear and, to my horror, the shock to her weak heart caused her to collapse. By the end of the following day, she was dead. Dead on the 25th, and Lady Glyde was not due to arrive in London till the 26th!

It was too late to change the plan. I remained calm and carried on. On the 26th, leaving the false Lady Glyde dead in my house, I collected the true Lady Glyde from the railway station and took her to Mrs Rubelle's house. The two medical men I had hired (shall we say) were easily persuaded to certify the confused and frightened Lady Glyde as mentally ill. Then I gave her a drug and had Mrs Rubelle dress her in Anne Catherick's clothes. The next day, the 27th, she was delivered to the asylum, where she was received with great surprise, but without suspicion. The false Lady Glyde was buried at Limmeridge. I attended the funeral with suitable expressions of deep sympathy.

One final question remains. If Anne Catherick had not died when she did, what would I have done? I would, of course, have given her a happy release from the prison of life.


tempt v. to make someone want to have or do something 引诱

contradict v. be in conflict with 与……相矛盾

perform v. act 表演

nudge v. push gently 轻轻地碰

inexpressible adj. that can not be expressed 难以说清的

disguise v. alter the appearance so as to conceal the identity 伪装

curious adj. eager to learn; inquisitive 好奇的

aloud adv. audibly 出声地

agent n. a person who acts for another in business, politics etc. 代理人

delicate adj. tricky 微妙的

fantastic adj. wonderful 绝好的

14.认罪

两个星期之后,我们回到了伦敦。我开始准备与伯爵的较量。现在是5月初,他租房的期限到6月。享受着与劳拉新婚的幸福(我们从未跟她提起过伯爵),有时我忍不住想改变主意,让一切都过去。但是劳拉仍会做梦,可怕的噩梦,她常常在梦里惊叫起来,因此我明白必须继续原来的计划。

首先,我想尽量多了解一些伯爵的事。玛丽安告诉我,他已经很多年没有回意大利了。我想,他是不是由于政治原因被迫离开意大利的呢?但是玛丽安又说,在布莱克沃特庄园他好像收到过贴着意大利邮票的官方来信,这两者是互相矛盾的。也许他是间谍。这样可以解释为什么他在自己的阴谋得逞后,还在英国逗留那么久。有谁能告诉我答案呢?也许该再找个意大利人问问——猛然间我想到了老朋友,佩斯卡教授。

去见佩斯卡教授前,我决定先去看一下伯爵,因为到目前为止,我还从来没有见过他。于是一天早上,我去了圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特大街,在他的住处附近等他出现。最后,他终于出来了,朝伦敦市中心走去。我在后面跟着他。玛丽安跟我提过他身躯肥胖,衣着入时,但我没想到这个人那么精力旺盛,神采飞扬。

在牛津街附近,他停住脚步看一个歌剧的海报,然后走进了不远处的售票处。我过去看了一下海报,发现演出就在晚上,伯爵很可能会出现在观众当中。

我想假如邀请佩斯卡来看歌剧,就可以把伯爵指给他,看他是否认识。于是,我自己买了两张票,给佩斯卡写了封短信,晚上找他一起去看歌剧。

我们进入剧院的时候,音乐已经响起来了,剧场里座无虚席。不过剧场两边还有站的地方。我环顾四周,看到伯爵坐在前面几排的座位上,于是我也站到了那一排,佩斯卡站在我旁边。第一部分演出结束了,观众们,包括伯爵在内,都起身向周围张望。

在伯爵朝我们这个方向看的时候,我用臂肘碰了一下佩斯卡,“看见那个高大的胖子了吗?你认识他吗?”

“不认识,”佩斯卡回答,“他很有名吗?你为什么让我看他?”

“因为我需要更多地了解关于他的情况。他是意大利人,叫福斯科伯爵。你听说过这个名字吗?来,站这个台阶上,你会看得更清楚些。”

一个瘦瘦的金发男子站在我们的旁边,他的左脸上有一道疤。我注意到他看了看佩斯卡,又顺着佩斯卡的视线看了看伯爵。佩斯卡再一次对我说,他不认识那个人,就在他说话的时候,伯爵朝我们这边看过来。

这两个意大利人的目光相遇了。

那一瞬间,我敢肯定地说,佩斯卡可能不认识伯爵,但伯爵一定认识佩斯卡!

不仅是认识,更令人惊奇的是伯爵害怕佩斯卡。伯爵脸上的表情凝固了,像死人一样毫无血色,冷酷的灰眼睛恐惧地盯着这边。

脸上有疤的人似乎饶有兴趣地在一旁看着佩斯卡对伯爵的影响。

“那个胖子怎么那样看着我!”佩斯卡说,转过头看着我,“我从未见过他呀。”

佩斯卡扭头的时候,伯爵转身快步向剧场后边走去,那里人最多。我一把抓住佩斯卡的胳膊,不顾他的惊讶,拉着他紧追伯爵。那个脸上有疤的瘦子显然也准备离开剧场,并且已经走到了我们的前面。等我和佩斯卡赶到入口,伯爵和那个瘦子都已经不见了。

“佩斯卡,”我赶忙说,“我必须和你单独谈谈,我们到你的住处去谈可以吗?”

“这到底是怎么回事?”佩斯卡大声说。

我没回答,只是催着他赶紧走。伯爵离开剧场的样子,还有他迫不及待地要躲避佩斯卡,使我担心他可能会逃得更远——我可能再也找不到他了。

到了佩斯卡的住处,我以最快的速度向他讲述了事情的经过,他充满迷惑和惊讶地望着我。

他认识你——他很怕你。他离开剧场就是要逃避你,”我说,“这其中一定有原因,佩斯卡!回忆一下你来英国以前的经历。你是由于政治原因离开意大利的,我不是问你那些政治原因,不过那个人如此惊慌会不会同你的过去有什么关联?”

令我非常吃惊的是,这些本来无关紧要的话好像令佩斯卡非常惊恐。他的脸色变得煞白,身体开始颤抖。

“沃尔特!”他低声说,“你不知道你问了什么。”

我两眼紧盯着他,“佩斯卡,请原谅。我不是有意要给你带来痛苦,我说那些话只是因为那个人给我妻子带来了巨大的伤害。请你原谅我。”

我起身要离开,还没走到门口,他叫住了我。

“等一下,”他说,“你救过我的命,你有权从我这里知道你想要知道的东西,即使这会要了我的命。我唯一的请求是,即使你发现了我的过去同那个福斯科的关系,你也不要告诉我。”

接着,他开始讲他的经历,过去的记忆卷土重来,令他脸色煞白。

“我年轻的时候参加了一个秘密政治社团,现在还是它的成员。我们姑且叫它兄弟社团,我不能告诉你真实的名称。我当时完成了很多出生入死的任务,也做了一些给其他成员带来危险的事,所以社团命令我到英国待命。我服从命令来了英国——一直在等——现在还在等。我可能明天就被召回,也许是10年以后。我不知道。

“兄弟社团的宗旨是为人民争取权利。它在意大利有一个主席,国外有很多主席。每个主席都有秘书。主席和秘书认识所有的成员,但除非在必要的情况下,成员们彼此都不认识。每个兄弟社团成员的左臂内侧靠上的地方都有一个很小的圆形烙印,这是他们的记号。”

他卷起衣袖,给我看他自己的烙印。

“任何人背叛了兄弟社团,”他接着说,“他肯定会被处死。其他成员,也许是一个他不认识的陌生人,也许是他的邻居,会奉命杀死他。任何人不能退出社团——永远都不可以。”

佩斯卡停了一会儿又说:“在意大利,我被选为秘书,所有的成员那时都被带来见主席,当然也就见到了。你明白了我的意思——我从你的表情看出来了。但是,什么也别跟我说,求你了!我不想做我必须做的事,我感到害怕。

“我不认识剧场的那个人,”他最后说,“如果他认识,那他一定跟以前变化很大,或者伪装了自己,让我认不出来了。你现在走吧,沃尔特。我说得够多了。”

“我衷心地感谢你,佩斯卡,”我说,“你永远不会为信任我而后悔的。”

走在回家的路上,我的心情激动不已。我终于找到了对付伯爵的武器。我敢肯定他原来是一个兄弟社团成员,后来背叛了社团,他认为自己今晚被认出来了。现在他的生命很危险。不然他见到佩斯卡为什么那样害怕呢?

那他接着会做什么呢?尽快离开伦敦。如果我去他的住处拦住他,他肯定会毫不犹豫地杀了我。为保护我自己,我必须让他的生命安全地攥在我的手里。我赶忙回到家,给佩斯卡写了一封信:

剧场的那个人,福斯科,是你们社团的一个成员,他背叛了社团。赶快到他的住处圣约翰伍德的弗雷斯特街5号。我已经死了。请用你的力量立即干掉他。

我签了名,写上日期,又在信封上写道:等到明天上午9点。如果到那时还没有我的消息,再打开信封读里面的内容。

然后,我找了一个信使,叫他把信送走并带回佩斯卡的回复,说他已经收到信了。20分钟后,我拿到了回复的纸条。我刚要离开,玛丽安出现在门口,脸上露出担忧的表情。

“就是今天晚上吗?”她说,“你要去找伯爵。”

“对,这是最后的机会,也是最好的机会。”

“噢,沃尔特,别一个人去!让我跟你去吧,不要一个人去!”

“不行,玛丽安。你必须留在这里替我保护劳拉。那样,我面对伯爵的时候才会放心。”

*  *  *

快到伯爵住处的时候,我碰见了脸上有疤的那个人,早些时候在剧场就见过他。他在这儿做什么,我心里很纳闷。

我把名片递进去,我到现在也不明白,为什么夜里11点半伯爵还让我进去。他对我好奇,想见我?他并不知道我和佩斯卡同在剧场,我猜想他觉得我没有什么好怕的。

他还穿着晚礼服,地上有一个旅行箱,他周围满是书籍、文件和衣服。我猜的没错。

“你来这里有事,哈特里特先生?”他一边说,一边用好奇的眼光打量我,“我想不出会是什么事。”

“你像是在准备出门旅行,”我说,“这就是我来的原因。我知道你为什么要离开伦敦。”

“你知道我为什么要离开伦敦?”他走到一张桌旁,打开抽屉,“如果你愿意,说说为什么。”

“我可以让你看看为什么,”我说,“把你左边的衣袖卷起,就能看到。”

他那冷酷的灰眼睛一动不动地盯着我。接下来是一阵令人紧张的寂静。我就像亲眼所见一样清楚,那抽屉里藏着枪,我现在命悬一线。

“等一下,”我说,“你动手之前,我建议你看看这个纸条。”我慢慢地、小心翼翼地把佩斯卡的纸条递给他。

他出声读着纸条。

你的信收到了。如果9点以前没有你的消息,9点整,钟一响我就打开信封。

假如换作另外一个人,可能需要一些解释,但伯爵不需要。他脸上的表情变了,他关上了抽屉。

“你比我想的要聪明,”他说,“我9点以前走不了,我得等人给我送护照来。你得到的信息可能是真的,也可能是假的。你是从哪儿知道的?”

“我不会告诉你的。”

“你给我的没有签名的纸条是谁写的?”

“一个你非常害怕的人。”

他停了一会儿,“你要我做什么,哈特里特先生?是不是跟一位女士有关?”

“是的,是我妻子。”我回答。

他非常吃惊地看着我。看得出他不再认为我会给他带来危险了。他双手交叉抱在胸前,面带冷笑听我继续说下去。

“你犯下了严重的罪行,”我接着说道,“但是,你可以留着你得到的钱。我只要一个由你签名的认罪书,还有我妻子回伦敦的日期证明。”

“好!”他说,“这是你的条件,我的条件是:第一,福斯科夫人和我在我们愿意的时候离开这里,你不要阻止我们。第二,你呆在这里,明天一早我的代理人过来,你让他取回那封还没有打开的信。然后,你要给我们半个小时的时间离开这里。第三,你答应跟我在国外找一个地方决斗。你接受我的条件吗——是还是否?”

他的迅速决断,他的精干和意志力令我震惊。我犹豫了一会儿。我应该让他逃走吗?是的,证明劳拉身份的证据比复仇重要得多。

“我接受你的条件。”我说。

他随即叫人拿来咖啡,坐下开始写。他落笔如飞,写了很长时间。最后,他站起来,说他已经写完了并念给我听。我觉得还满意。他给了我他租车接劳拉的那家公司的地址,同时给我的还有珀西瓦尔爵士签名的一封信。信的日期是7月25日,里面说格莱德夫人将于7月26日启程去伦敦。这就是证据。7月25日,即死亡证明上宣告劳拉死于伦敦的日子,劳拉还在汉普郡活着准备第二天的旅行。

然后,伯爵把福斯科夫人叫进来,让她看着我,他自己去睡觉。第二天一早,他的代理人来了,我给佩斯卡写了封短信。一个小时后,代理人拿着我那封没打开的信和护照回来了。

“别忘了第三个条件!”伯爵临走时说,“你会收到我的信的,哈特里特先生。”说完,他和伯爵夫人坐上代理人的马车离开了这里,代理人留下来,确保我不跟踪他们。

我看着他们离开,这时另一辆马车驶过去,车里坐着那个脸上有疤的人。他和伯爵有什么瓜葛?我看到他好几次了,不应该是巧合。或许我跟伯爵的较量正是时候。他要是死了,我就没法得到他签名的笔录了。

在约定的半小时里,我读了伯爵写给我的认罪书。

伊西多·奥塔维奥·鲍尔德塞尔·福斯科的证词

1850年夏天,由于微妙的政治原因我来到英国,同我的朋友珀西瓦尔·格莱德爵士住在一起。我们两人都急需一大笔钱。唯一拥有这笔钱的人是他妻子,但是他妻子不死,我们一分钱也得不到。更糟糕的是,我的朋友又遇到了别的麻烦事。一个叫安妮·凯瑟里克的女人藏在我们附近,她在同格莱德夫人接触,并且掌握着一个可以毁掉珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。如果他完蛋了,那我们的经济利益怎么办呢?

我们要做的第一件事就是找到安妮·凯瑟里克。我了解到她的长相和格莱德夫人极为相似。她是从精神病院逃出来的。我突发奇想,把格莱德夫人同安妮·凯瑟里克的名字、住处、经历互换一下。互换的结果既可以让我们得到3万英镑,又能够保住珀西瓦尔爵士的秘密。

我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,说服她和她的朋友回伦敦去。我自己在圣约翰伍德租了房子,同时从利默里奇的费尔利先生那里得到了邀请格莱德夫人去看望他的信。要实现我的计划,必须让格莱德夫人一个人离开布莱克沃特庄园,在去往利默里奇的途中在我家里住一夜。哈尔库姆小姐的病让我的计划更容易进行了。我回到布莱克沃特庄园,等哈尔库姆小姐一脱离危险,就辞退了医生,并且让珀西瓦尔爵士辞退了所有仆人。

下一步,我们让米切尔森太太离开庄园几天。一天晚上,福斯科夫人、鲁贝尔太太和我把昏睡中的哈尔库姆小姐抬到了一个没有人住的房间里。转天一早,我和夫人赶往伦敦,留下珀西瓦尔爵士劝说格莱德夫人,让她相信她姐姐已经去了利默里奇,她也应该去找她,途中在伦敦我的家休息。

7月24日,在我妻子的协助下,我找到了安妮·凯瑟里克,把她带到我的住处,假装就是格莱德夫人。然而,当安妮·凯瑟里克看到没有一个她认识的人时,吓得叫了起来。令我非常害怕的是,惊吓使她脆弱的心脏无法承受,转天她就死了。她是25日死的,可是格莱德夫人26日才能到伦敦!

改变计划已经来不及了。我尽量保持头脑冷静,继续着原来的计划。26日,我把已死的假格莱德夫人留在家里,到车站去接真正的格莱德夫人,带她到鲁贝尔太太家。我雇用的(可以这样说)两个医生很容易就被说服了,他们证明迷惑而惊恐的格莱德夫人患了精神病。而后,我给她吃了镇静药,让鲁贝尔太太给她穿上安妮·凯瑟里克的衣服。第二天,也就是27日,格莱德夫人被送进精神病院,那里的人非常吃惊,但没有人怀疑。假格莱德夫人被埋葬在利默里奇。我出席了葬礼,表现出应有的悲伤与同情。

还有最后一个问题,如果安妮·凯瑟里克没有死的话,我会怎么办呢?我当然很高兴帮她摆脱牢笼般的人生。

15
The proof

When the half hour had passed, I returned home. After a brief explanation to Laura and Marian, I hurried back to St John's Wood to find the cab-driver whom the Count had hired to collect Laura at the station. He wrote me a statement, which he and a witness signed, saying that on 26th July 1850 he had driven a Count Fosco to the railway station where they had collected a Lady Glyde. He remembered Lady Glyde's name, he said, from the labels on her luggage.

Then I went to Mr Kyrle's office and presented him with the proof of Laura's identity — the letter from Sir Percival, the statement by the cab-driver, the confession by the Count, and the death certificate. Amazed, he congratulated me, and agreed to accompany us to Limmeridge the next day, where I intended to have Laura publicly received and recognized.

Early the next morning Laura, Marian, Mr Kyrle and I took the train to Limmeridge. Laura and Marian stayed at first in a hotel while Mr Kyrle and I went to the house to deal with Mr Fairlie. He complained like a child, saying how was he to know his niece was alive when he was told she was dead? Between us, the lawyer and I made him sign letters calling all those who had attended the false funeral to come to the house the next day.

As I led Laura into her childhood home the following morning, there was a murmur of surprise and interest from the waiting crowd of villagers and neighbours. The business was soon done. I read out the story of the plot against Laura, and Mr Kyrle announced that everything I had said was proved by the strongest evidence. I put my arm around Laura, raised her up, and called to the crowd:

'Are you all agreed that this is the Laura Fairlie you knew?'

'There she is, alive and well — God bless her!' It was an old man at the back of the room who began it, and in an instant everybody was shouting and cheering together.

Later, in the churchyard, we watched a stone worker remove Laura's name from the gravestone. In its place he put this:

ANNE CATHERICK

25TH JULY 1850

We returned to London the following day, happy in the thought that the long struggle was now over.

*  *  *

Several days later Pesca came to see me, and asked for a quiet word in my ear. He had just returned from Paris.

'I have news for you, my friend,' he said. 'You need not worry any more about the man at the opera. His body was found in the river Seine yesterday and now lies in the morgue in Paris. He was killed by knife wounds to the heart.'

'Count Fosco is dead?' I said, amazed. 'Are you sure?'

'I saw the body with my own eyes. He was wearing a French workman's clothes, and had a different name, of course, but he was the fat man we saw at the opera that night. No question.'

'But how do you know this?' I asked.

Pesca hesitated. 'A man brought me some information,' he said. 'I had to see the body, and send a report about it.'

'A man,' I said. 'What kind of man?'

'A stranger,' said Pesca. 'I didn't know him. A man with a scar on his left cheek.' He saw the understanding in my face, and held up his hand. 'No more questions, my friend. Please!'

We never spoke about it again, but I think Pesca was telling me that the Brotherhood had taken their revenge. And so Count Fosco, that extraordinary, evil man, passed from this world.

*  *  *

The following year our first child was born — a son. Six months later my newspaper sent me to Ireland and, when I returned, I found a note from my wife saying she and Marian and little Walter had gone to Limmeridge House. She begged me to follow as soon as possible. Very surprised, I caught the next train. When I got there, Marian and Laura told me Mr Fairlie was dead and that Mr Kyrle had advised them to go to Limmeridge House.

Laura came close to me and I half realized some great change was happening in our lives.

'Do you know who this is, Walter?' Marian asked, holding up my little son, with tears of happiness in her eyes. 'This is the boy who will one day inherit Limmeridge House.'

So she spoke. In writing those last words, I have written everything. Marian was the good friend of our lives — let Marian end our story.


label n. a small piece of paper, card etc. attached to an object and giving information about it 标签

congratulate v. express pleasure at the happiness or good fortune or excellence of a person 祝贺

morgue n. a room or building in which dead bodies may be kept until burial or cremation 停尸间

15.证据

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那半个小时过去了,我回到家里。简单地向劳拉和玛丽安说明了情况后,我立即赶回圣约翰伍德去找那个伯爵雇来到车站接劳拉的车夫。那人给我写了份证词,他和另一个证人都签了字。证词说,1850年7月26日他驾车送福斯科伯爵去车站,接了一位格莱德夫人。他说还记得格莱德夫人的名字,是在行李标签上看到的。

然后,我去了克尔先生的办公室,给他看了证明劳拉身份的证据——珀西瓦尔爵士的信、马车夫的证词、伯爵的认罪书和那份死亡证明。克尔先生很吃惊,接着向我表示祝贺并且答应第二天陪我们到利默里奇,我准备让人们公开地接受和认可劳拉。

转天的一大早,劳拉、玛丽安、克尔先生和我乘火车前往利默里奇。劳拉和玛丽安先在一家旅店里休息,克尔先生和我去庄园与费尔利先生交涉。费尔利先生像孩子一样抱怨说,有人告诉他他侄女死了,他怎么会知道他侄女还活着?在只有我们三个人的情况下,克尔先生和我让他在事先准备好的信上签字,邀请所有参加那场假葬礼的人第二天到费尔利家来。

第二天早晨,当我带着劳拉走进她儿时的家时,等候在那里的村民和邻居们发出惊奇的低语声。很快我们进入了正题。我大声宣读了针对劳拉的罪恶阴谋的全过程,克尔先生当众宣布我说的每一件事都证据确凿。我搂住劳拉,扶她起来,高声对众人说:

“你们说这是不是你们认识的劳拉·费尔利?”

“是她,她还好好地活着——上帝保佑她!”一位站在屋子后面的老人首先说,其他人也都立刻欢呼起来。

后来,在教堂墓地里,我们亲眼看着一位石匠把劳拉的名字从墓碑上凿去,在原来的地方刻上:

安妮·凯瑟里克

卒于1850年7月25日

转天,我们返回了伦敦,想到漫长的斗争终于结束了,我们都非常高兴。

*  *  *

过了几天,佩斯卡来看我,要跟我单独聊聊。他刚从巴黎回来。

“我有重要的消息要告诉你,我的朋友,”他说,“你不用再担心剧场里的那个人了,昨天在塞纳河发现了他的尸体,现在他的尸体停放在巴黎的停尸间。他是被人用刀子刺进心脏而死的。”

“福斯科伯爵已经死了?”我吃惊地问,“你能肯定吗?”

“我亲眼看了他的尸体,他穿着法国工人的制服,当然也换了名字,但他就是那天晚上我们在剧场见到的那个胖子。一点儿没错。”

“可你是怎么知道这个消息的呢?”我问。

佩斯卡犹豫了一下。“有人告诉我的,”他说,“我必须亲眼看到他的尸体,然后发一个报告。”

“有人,”我说,“是什么人?”

“一个陌生人,”佩斯卡回答,“我不认识那个人,他的左脸上有一道疤。”看到我脸上了然的表情,他抬了抬手,“请不要多问了,我的朋友!”

我们再没有提起这件事,不过我想佩斯卡是要告诉我兄弟社团已经采取了复仇行动。就这样,福斯科伯爵,那个能力不俗的恶徒从这个世界上消失了。

*  *  *

第二年,我们的第一个孩子出世了——是个儿子。6个月以后,我供职的那家报社派我去了爱尔兰。我回来的时候,看到妻子留给我的一封短信,信上说她和玛丽安还有小沃尔特去了利默里奇庄园。她让我尽快去找他们。我感到很惊讶,赶下一班火车去了那里。我到那儿之后,玛丽安和劳拉告诉我费尔利先生去世了,是克尔先生建议她们到利默里奇庄园去的。

劳拉走到我身边,我朦胧地意识到我们的生活将要发生什么大事。

“你知道这是谁吗,沃尔特?”玛丽安一边举起我的小儿子,一边问我,眼睛里充满了喜悦的泪水,“这个孩子将来有一天会继承利默里奇庄园。”

她就是这样说的。写完了最后几句话,我的讲述就到这里了。玛丽安是我们的终生好友——就让她结束我们的故事吧。

ACTIVITIES:Before Reading

ACTIVITIES


Before Reading


1.Read the story introduction on the first page of the book, and the back cover. What kind of secret, do you think, could bring 'ruin and shame' to a man in nineteenth-century England? Put these possibilities in order of likelihood, and add any ideas of your own.

·living beyond his income and never paying his debts

·stealing money from a rich relative

·spending all his wife's inherited money

·inheriting money and property not rightfully his

·getting a woman pregnant and not marrying her

·having unmarried parents

·having two wives

·keeping a mistress

·abandoning his wife and leaving her penniless

·beating his wife

·beating his servants

·cheating at cards

2.What can you predict about this kind of story? Choose words of your own to complete this passage (one word for each gap).

In thrillers of this kind, the mystery is usually _____ in the end, though often in an _____ way. The good characters have to _____ against the forces of evil, but they learn from their _____, and usually live _____ ever after. The wicked characters, who are sometimes more _____ than the good ones, _____ succeed in their aims and are often _____ by death or imprisonment.

ACTIVITIES:While Reading

ACTIVITIES


While Reading


Read Part One (Chapters 1 to 3), and complete this passage with the names of people and places given below.


Laura/Marian/Walter/Anne Catherick/Sir Percival (Glyde)/woman in white/Baronet/Fairlie/Limmeridge House/ Hampshire/London


_____ came to _____ as a drawing teacher to _____ and _____, who were half-sisters. _____'s family name was _____ — a name mentioned by the strange _____ that _____ had met in _____. She had told him that she came from _____ but had once been very happy at _____. He told _____ this story, and she discovered from old letters of her mother's that the _____ was probably _____.

A few months later _____ advised _____ to leave, as she had realized he was in love with _____, who was already promised in marriage to _____, a _____ from _____. But before _____ left, an unsigned letter came for _____, warning her not to marry _____, and _____ believed the letter had been sent by _____, whom he found that evening, cleaning Mrs _____'s grave in the churchyard.


Before you read Part Two, which is told by Marian Halcombe, can you guess how the story develops? Think about these questions.


1) How does Marian feel about Walter Hartright?

2) How does Laura react to the arrival of Sir Percival?

3) Does Sir Percival's explanation about Anne Catherick's letter satisfy Marian and Mr Gilmore?

4) How does Walter try to get over his heartbreak?


Read Part Two (Chapters 4 to 8). Here are some untrue sentences about these chapters. Rewrite them with the correct information.


1) Laura told Sir Percival that she loved Walter Hartright, and Sir Percival offered to release her from the engagement.

2) The marriage agreement was very much to Laura's advantage.

3) Sir Percival tried to get hold of Laura's money by copying her signature without her knowledge.

4) Count Fosco knew that Marian had written to Mr Kyrle because he heard her talking to Laura about it.

5) When Laura met Anne Catherick at the lake, Anne said nothing about Sir Percival.

6) Sir Percival threatened to lock Laura up until she gave him the money he needed.

7) While hiding behind a desk in the library, Marian heard Count Fosco and Sir Percival discussing how Anne Catherick's death would solve the problem of their debt.

8) Laura went to the Count's house in London although she knew Marian was still at Blackwater Park.


Before you read Part Three, which is told by Walter Hartright, what do you think might happen next? Choose some of these possibilities, or think of your own.


1) Walter Hartright returns to England and he...

a) investigates Laura's death.

b) discovers Sir Percival's secret.

c) has Count Fosco arrested.

d) eventually marries Marian.

2) Sir Percival...

a) inherits his wife's money.

b) quarrels with Count Fosco.

c) dies in an accident.

d) is killed by Walter.


Read Part Three, up to the end of Chapter 13. Who said or wrote these words, and to whom? Who or what were they talking about?


1) 'Oh, God, help him! Please, please help him, God!'

2) 'We just ran into each other's arms, unable to say a word.'

3) 'I don't recognize this woman. Remove her from my house before I call on the law to protect me.'

4) 'If he crosses my path, he is a lost man.'

5) 'It's the one weak point in their plot.'

6) 'I agreed to go with this lady to make the arrangement, leaving Anne alone in our lodgings. But it was a wicked plot, sir.'

7) 'Have you come to tell me that she is dead?'

8) 'From a great family! Yes, indeed! Especially from his mother's side.'

9) 'God help him! He's damaged the lock.'

10) 'He wanted everyone to believe something false, so that they would never suspect the truth.'

11) 'Come back as soon as you can. We have had to move.'

12) 'I can wait. Let him think his message has produced its effect.'

13) 'Wait here, my brother, my best and dearest friend!'

14) 'Oh, I am so happy at last!'


Before you read Chapters 14 and 15 (The confession and The proof), can you guess how the story ends?


1) How does Professor Pesca come into the end of the story?

2) How does Walter force the Count to confess to the plot?

3) Does the Count return any of Laura's money?

4) How does Mr Fairlie react to proof of Laura's identity?

5) What happens when Mr Fairlie dies?

ACTIVITIES:After Reading

ACTIVITIES


After Reading


1.Perhaps this is what some of the characters in the story were thinking. Which characters are they, who or what are they thinking about, and what is happening at this point in the story?


1) 'I must tear the page out and destroy it. It's my only chance. Then there'll be no evidence, no proof. Ah, here it is! Now, I need more light... quick, move the lamp closer — Oh no! NO!'

2) 'He asks if I remember him, but I don't think I do. Do I? Have I seen him before? Wait... His face... Yes, yes, I remember now! He's that kind man I met on Hampstead Heath...'

3) 'I don't know what Marian thinks she's doing — banging doors, bringing that madwoman in here, saying I must recognize her as my niece! I think Marian must be going mad herself...'

4) 'There's a little hole in the sand down there, just by the boathouse wall. I can see something in it — it looks like paper... Yes, it's a note! She's left me a note! Quick, what does it say?'

5) 'That must be her, in the summer-house. She's coming out to greet us. What a lovely face! And those eyes — so clear, so blue!'

6) 'It's nearly seven o'clock in the morning. He's been gone all night! Whatever can have happened? What shall I do, what shall I do? No, I must stay here, and guard Laura, as he told me...'

7) 'The man is an idiot! What does he hope to gain by shouting at her like that? She'll never sign it now. And her sister is getting suspicious. I must put a stop to this nonsense at once...'


2.Three days after Marian fell ill with typhus at Blackwater Park, Count Fosco explained his plan to Sir Percival. Complete the Count's side of the conversation. Use as many words as you like.


COUNT FOSCO: I have it, Percival — the perfect plan! Within a few weeks you will be a widower, and able to pay all your debts!

SIR PERCIVAL: If you're talking about my wife's death, forget it!

COUNT FOSCO: Ah, but suppose _______

SIR PERCIVAL: Another woman? What are you talking about?

COUNT FOSCO: _______

SIR PERCIVAL: Yes, they do look very similar. But how the devil are you going to get them to change places?

COUNT FOSCO: _______

SIR PERCIVAL: But you haven't got a house in London. And why should my wife want to go to Limmeridge?

COUNT FOSCO: _______

SIR PERCIVAL: Ah, Marian... yes, I see. So, you get Lady Glyde to London. What happens then?

COUNT FOSCO: _______

SIR PERCIVAL: But won't the asylum release her when she tells them who she really is?

COUNT FOSCO: _______

SIR PERCIVAL: Mm, I hope you're right. And Anne Catherick? You say you persuaded this friend of hers, Mrs Clements, when you met her at the lake, to take her back to London?

COUNT FOSCO: _______

SIR PERCIVAL: She has heart disease? How do you know that?

COUNT FOSCO: _______

SIR PERCIVAL: Yes, yes, very clever. But suppose her heart disease is not very advanced — suppose she doesn't die, Fosco? What then?

COUNT FOSCO: _______


3.Here are some extracts from letters described or referred to in the text. Who is writing to whom? Fill in the names, and complete the extracts with one suitable word for each gap.


1) _______ to _______

... you will be glad _______ know Anne Catherick has _______ found and taken back _______ the asylum. She is _______ very disturbed mentally, and _______ now claiming she is _______ Anne Catherick at all, _______ Lady Glyde, your niece _______ died recently. You should _______ aware of this, in _______ she escapes again and _______ to annoy you or _______ members of Lady Glyde's _______...

2) _______ to _______

... as I was very _______ yesterday to receive a _______ addressed to me — I _______ your handwriting on the _______ — which contained nothing but _______ plain piece of paper _______ a word on it. _______ do hope there is _______ wrong, and I look _______ to hearing from you _______ in the very near _______...

3) _______ to _______

... I write to you _______ some very sad news _______ my niece. She was _______ seriously ill when she _______ at our house in _______, and she died the _______ day, very suddenly. It _______ been a great shock _______ everybody. Please break the _______ as gently as you _______ to her sister, who _______ still be very weak _______ her illness...

4) _______ to _______

... I fear the situation _______ her and Sir Percival _______ getting worse day by _______. Laura really needs to _______ from him, and you _______ write to invite her _______ Limmeridge. It is very _______ that you do this ______ delay, as I am ______ something terrible will happen ______ Laura does not leave ______ soon...

5) ______ to ______

Blackwater Park, ______ July.

Everything has gone ______ to plan. Lady Glyde ______ on following her sister ______ her uncle's house, and ______ be taking the train ______ London tomorrow, on the ______ July. I told her ______ will meet her at ______ station, and that she ______ stay at your house ______ the night.


Now read the completed extracts again. Put the letters in the order they were written in the story, and explain the circumstances surrounding each one. Which letter is the most important one for the plot, and why?


4.What do you think about the way these people behaved? Was it foolish, cowardly, irresponsible, wicked, criminal? Did some of them have excuses for behaving in this way? Discuss your ideas.


·Mrs Catherick's treatment of her daughter Anne.

·Sir Percival's false entry in the marriage register, so that he could inherit his father's title and property.

·Anne Catherick's unsigned letter to Laura about Sir Percival.

·Marian telling Walter he must leave Limmeridge, because he had fallen in love with Laura.

·Sir Percival locking up Anne Catherick in an asylum.

·Laura telling Sir Percival that she loved another man.

·Madame Fosco helping her husband by stealing people's letters.

·Count Fosco and Sir Percival changing the identities of Laura and Anne Catherick, in order to steal Laura's money; certifying Laura as mentally ill, and causing Anne's early death.

封底

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