Читать книгу A Secret Inheritance - B. L. Farjeon - Страница 10

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Had I yielded to passion, had I not in some small degree exercised wisdom, I should have coined out of this last meeting with Mrs. Fortress a most exquisite torture; but I schooled myself into the acceptance of what was entirely beyond my comprehension, and after an interval of agitated thought I set it down to a trick, the inspiration of which may have been derived from unguarded words escaping me while I slept, or while I was soliloquising--a habit into which I had grown--and she was watching me unobserved. It troubled me a great deal at first, but I was successful in diminishing instead of magnifying it, and it was fortunate for me that I had much to occupy my mind in other ways during the few following weeks. My lawyer demanded my time and attention. I was determined, without question as to whether a favourable market could be found for them, to dispose of the property and securities which my father had left, and which now were mine. I was determined to commence a new life, without any exact definition or idea as to what that life was to be; and to do this it was necessary, according to my view, that I should make a clearance. I was surprised to discover that my father had made a great number of investments, and it was to my advantage that they were mostly good ones. Had I possessed both the moral and the legal power I would have sold Rosemullion, but my father's will was so worded that the lawyer pointed out to me that there would be difficulties in the way, and after listening to his arguments I agreed to retain it as my freehold. But I was determined not to inhabit it, and I gave instructions that a tenant should be sought for it, and that, if one could not be obtained, it should remain untenanted.

"It had been unoccupied a great many years," the lawyer remarked, "when your father purchased it."

"For any particular reason?" I inquired.

"No," replied the lawyer, "except that there was a foolish idea that it was haunted."

"Whoever rents Rosemullion," I said, "must take his own ghosts with him if he wishes for ghostly company."

"We generally do that," said the lawyer, dryly, "wherever we go."

There were legal requirements to be attended to in the drawing up and signing of deeds, but otherwise there was no difficulty in carrying out my intention to the letter, and at the expiration of three months I found myself an absolutely free and unencumbered man, with my large fortune invested in English consols, the fluctuations of which caused me not a moment's uneasiness. During those three months I lived my usual life, read, studied, and often wandered through the adjacent woods at night. I think that the adventure I have elsewhere narrated of the tramps I befriended one stormy night had awakened my sympathies for the class, and I may say, without vanity, that it was not the only occasion on which my sympathies had taken a practical shape. A little while before I bade farewell to Rosemullion I was wandering through the woods an hour or so before the rising of the sun, when I came upon a woman sleeping on the ground. As usual, she had a child in her arms, and moans issued from the breasts of both the woman and the child. It was a pitiful sight, familiar enough in our overcrowded land. The woman was the picture of desolation. Suddenly, as I gazed, a mocking voice whispered that it would be merciful to kill her where she lay. "Do a good deed," said the silent voice, "and hasten home to bed. No one will know." I laughed aloud, and took from my pocket my purse, which was well supplied with money. The woman had an apron on. I wrapped the purse in it, and tied it securely, so that it should not escape her. Then I crept away, but scarcely knew whether to be glad or sorry that I had cheated fate once more.

A few days afterwards I turned my back on Rosemullion.

I had formed no definite plans; all that I had settled was that I would go abroad and see the world. It was open for me, and the flowers were blooming. Was I not rich, and had I not already had experience of the value of riches?

But although I travelled far, and saw the wonders of art and nature in foreign lands, my habits were much the same as they had been in England. What I enjoyed I enjoyed in solitude; the chance acquaintances who offered themselves, many of them travelling alone as I was travelling, received no encouragement from me; I did not respond to their advances. In this I was but repeating my boyish experiences when I was living with my parents in London attics. Truly, the child is father to the man.

It may appear strange to those who are fond of friendships, and who cling ardently to them, to learn that, despite my loneliness, I had not a dull moment. Nature was very beautiful to my soul, its forms and changes most entrancing. I cared little for the great towns and cities. The modes of life therein, especially those which were exemplified by the absurd lengths and extravagances to which fashion drives its votaries, excited in me a very sincere contempt, and I was amazed that people could be so blind to the sweetest joys of existence. I visited the theatres, but they had, for the most part, no fascination for me. I saw great actresses associated with buffoons, and often themselves buffooning; I followed, at first with interest, the efforts of a be-puffed actress, who rose to the terrors and the beauties of her part in one fine scene, and did not consider the rest of her mimic life, as depicted on the boards, worth the trouble of consistency; I was present at the performance of dramas which were absolutely false in their action and sentiment. What pleased me best were the short poetical episodes, occupying less than an hour in their representation, and in which two or three good actors sustained and preserved the unities in excellent style. But these were side dishes, and only served to bring into stronger relief the larger and grosser fare provided for the intellectual education of the masses. I went to the opera, and could only enjoy it by shutting my eyes, so many absurdities were forced upon my sight: and as this drew unpleasant attention upon me, I was compelled to deprive myself of the enjoyment. I strolled into the gambling saloons, and gazed in amazement upon the faces of men and women in which the lowest passions were depicted. Human nature in those places was degraded and belittled. "Is there some mysterious hidden sweetness in this many-sided frenzy?" I asked myself, and I staked my money, and endeavoured to discover it; but the game did not stir my pulses; I lost or won with indifference. I soon tired of it, and bade adieu to the rooms, with a sigh of compassion and contempt for the slaves who fretted their hearts therein.

My chiefest pleasures were experienced in small villages in mountain and valley, where there was so little attraction for the ordinary tourist that he seldom lingered there. I delighted in primitiveness and simplicity, where human baseness had the fewest opportunities to thrive, and where human goodness was the least likely to be spoilt by publicity. It was in these places that I came to the conclusion that the largest amount of happiness is to be found among small communities.

But although I was consistent, up to a certain period, in declining all offers of intimacy and friendship, it happened that I was to come into contact with a man for whom, in a short space of time, I grew to have a very close regard. His name was Louis, by profession a doctor, by descent a German.

We met in the woods near Nerac, in Gascony. I was fording a watercourse which intersected part of the forest when my foot slipped upon a round stone which I had supposed was fast embedded in the earth, but which proved to be loose. I made a spring upon the stone, and it rolled over, and landed me in the water. A wetting was of no account, but when I attempted to rise I uttered a sharp cry of pain. I had sprained my ankle.

With difficulty I crawled from the water to dry ground, upon which I sat, nursing my ankle, which already was swelling ominously. In a short time the pain became intolerable, and I endeavoured to draw the boot from my foot, and finding this was not possible, I cut it away bit by bit, and then cut my stocking loose. I experienced instant and delicious relief. The pleasure we derive from the relief of pain is the most exquisite of all physical sensations. I bathed my ankle with water from the cold stream, which somewhat reduced the swelling, but the relief was only temporary, for when I endeavoured again to rise, the torture produced by my attempt to sustain the weight of my body upon my foot was so keen that I fell prone to the ground in agony. There were no trees sufficiently near by the aid of which I might manage to walk a short distance, and in the intervals of relief afforded by further applications of cold water, I ruefully contemplated my position.

I had walked twenty miles during the day, and I was a stranger in the locality. The time was evening, and no person was in sight to assist me. From inquiries I made on the road earlier in the day I calculated that Nerac must be at least three miles distant from the spot upon which I lay. To crawl that distance was impossible. I looked upward to the sky. Heavy clouds charged with rain, were approaching in my direction, and the prospect before me of having to pass the night in the woods was by no means pleasant. I had learnt from experience that the storms in this region were violent and fierce; and, moreover, I had eaten nothing since the morning. Hunger was making strong demands upon me--all the stronger, as is the way of things, because of helplessness. I called aloud, and only a very fine echo--which I was not in the mood to admire and appreciate--answered me. Again and again I strove to rise, and again and again I sank to the ground, My ankle was getting worse, and had by this time swelled to double its usual girth. I turned my head in every direction, in eager quest of a human form, but none met my view. A squirrel sprang out of the woods, and stopped suddenly short at sight of me. It remained quite still, at a distance of a few paces gazing at me, and then it darted away, inspiring within me an absurd envy of its active movements. Birds, with cries both shrill and soft, flew to their nests; frogs croaked near the edges of the water. Evening fell, the sun descended; night was my enemy, and was eager to get at me, and soon its darkness fell around me like a shroud. This had ever been an enjoyment to me, but on the present occasion it served but to aggravate the mental disorder produced by my sufferings. The figures I conjured up in the gloom were the reverse of soothing, and I found myself occasionally labouring under a kind of delirium. One of my fancies was so peculiar that I will recall it. I saw on the left of me a deep cave, which as I gazed upon it grew to an enormous size. I had been looking in that direction only a moment before, and had seen nothing; the sudden vision of this great cave in the midst of black space was, therefore, the more surprising. Its roof and sides resembled a huge feathery disk, and deep back in the recess, embedded in the furthermost wall, were two strange-looking globes, surrounded by spots and curved lines of the colours of orange, brown, and soft grey. These globes were instinct with motion, and seemed to shrink and swell, while the coloured spots and curves around them contracted or expanded, in obedience to some mysterious law. The feathery roof and walls seemed also to contract and expand in sympathy, and these wave-like movements made it appear as if the cave were a living monster. I managed to raise myself upon my elbow for a moment, and as I did so I was terror-struck by beholding the monster cave rise and fly past me--in the shape of an owl that had wandered my way in search of food.

Fortunately the storm held off a while, but about midnight, as near as I could judge in an interval of reason, a few heavy drops of rain fell. I really felt as if this were to be my last night on earth. Soon the storm broke over the forest, and in a moment I was drenched to the skin. This, with the pain that was throbbing in every vein, and the hunger that was gnawing at me, completely exhausted me, and I became insensible.

I was awakened by the touch of hands, by the sound of a human voice. I languidly opened my eyes, and saw a man bending over me. The storm had passed away, and the sun was just rising. I had barely strength to note these signs, for my condition was pitiable. The man addressed me first in French, then in German; but although I could speak both languages my senses were so dazed that I had no understanding of them at the moment. I murmured faintly a few words in my native tongue.

"Ah," said the man, quickly and cheerfully, answering me in my own language, which he spoke well, but with a foreign accent, "you are English?"

I murmured "Yes."

"Of course," he said, "I should have known without asking. You are faint and exhausted. I perceive how it is. You crossed the stream, and fell, and sprained your ankle."

I nodded, dreamily and vacantly. All the time he spoke he was busy binding my ankle with some linen he had taken from a leather bag which hung by a strap from his shoulders.

"How long have you been lying here? But to give me that information just now is not imperative. You wish to tell me. Well?"

"I have been here at least since yesterday--perhaps longer."

"That is bad, very bad; I can judge from the sprain that you must have been here a great many hours. It is a very severe sprain; there is inflammation, great inflammation; you will not be able to walk for weeks. But what does that matter? These are the smallest ills of life. Were you on your way to Nerac? Do not answer me in speech. Nod, or shake your head. Rally your strength--for a few moments only--so that I may know how to deal by you. Come, you are a strong man. Compel yourself not to swoon. Stupid that I am! I have generally a flask with me; but I have forgotten it, and just when it is most needed. It shall not occur again; but that resolve will not help us now, will it? Were you on your way to Nerac? A nod. Yes, then. Have you friends there? A shake. No, then. Travelling for pleasure? Yes. An English gentleman? Yes. It is fortunate for you, friend, that, warned by the signs of a coming storm last night, I delayed my return home till this morning, and that, to prevent my people being for too long a time uneasy about me, I took a short cut, which is seldom used. The path is so little frequented that you might have lain here for another weary day. I am from Nerac; my home is there, and my family. Attend. I am going to lift you upon my horse; I call it, and it comes to me. See, it kneels at my bidding. We are friends, my horse and I; and it understands me; it can do anything but speak. Observe that I shorten the left stirrup, so that your sprained foot may find a fairly easy resting-place, and that I slightly lengthen the right stirrup, In order that leaning to the right, with your sound foot firmly planted, you may throw all your weight on that side. Now, I place my arm under your left shoulder--thus, and I have a firm hold of you. Do not fear; I am very strong, and my dear dumb brute will keep very still. I place your arm round my neck--thus. Clasp me as closely as your strength will permit. That is right--it is cleverly done. Now, resolve to bear a little sharp pain for a moment, only for a moment. Englishmen are not only proverbially but actually brave and stout-hearted. There--it is accomplished, and my dumb comrade is ready for the journey home. Are you comfortably placed? Here is my shoulder on the right of you, to rest your hand upon. Don't be fearful that you might lean too hard; I am made of iron. What a glorious sunrise! There is a subdued beauty in the colours of the sky after a great shower which is very charming. If you can manage not to faint for a little while it will be of assistance to us. The storm has cooled the air; you must feel it refreshing to your hot skin. We will nurse you well again, never fear. There will be a slight fever to grapple with, in addition to the healing of the ankle. Do not be disturbed by doubts that you may not be in friendly hands. I am a physician, and my name is Louis--Doctor Louis. Nerac is a most lovely spot. When you are well, we will show you its beauties. You are a brave young fellow to smile and keep your eyes open to please your doctor. There--that is a rabbit darting through the sunlight--and the birds, do you hear them? They are singing hymns to the Creator. Yonder, high up in the distance, winging its way to the rosy light, is a skylark. 'Hail to thee, blithe spirit!' It is better for me to take you home in this way than to leave you lying by the stream yonder, while I went to Nerac to fetch assistance. You might have thought I was never coming back, and the torture of suspense would have been added to your other discomforts. Then, we shall reach Nerac a good many minutes earlier by this means. There are times when minutes are of serious importance. We are on an eminence, and are about to descend the valley which leads straight to Nerac. If you were quite yourself you would be just able to catch a glimpse of the roofs of the houses in our pretty village. There are few prettier--none in my opinion. We shall jolt a little going down hill. Bear up bravely; it will soon be over."

With such-like words of encouragement, most kindly and sympathetically uttered, in tones soothing and melodious, did Doctor Louis strive to lighten the weary way, but long before we came to the end of our journey everything faded from my sight.