还乡The Return Of The Native-第75部分

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　I　am。　　How　long　was　I　what　they　called　out　of　my　senses？”
“A　week；　I　think。”
“And　then　I　became　calm。”
“Yes；　for　four　days。”
“And　now　I　have　left　off　being　calm。”
“But　try　to　be　quiet—please　do；　and　you　will　soon　be　strong。　
If　you　could　remove　that　impression　from　your　mind—“
“Yes；　yes；”　he　said　impatiently。　　“But　I　don’t　want　to　get　strong。　　What’s　the　use　of　my　getting　well？　　It　would　be　better　for　me　if　I　die；　and　it　would　certainly　be　better　for　Eustacia。　　Is　Eustacia　there？”
“Yes。”
“It　would　be　better　for　you；　Eustacia；　if　I　were　to　die？”
“Don’t　press　such　a　question；　dear　Clym。”
“Well；　it　really　is　but　a　shadowy　supposition；　for　unfortunately　I　am　going　to　live。　　I　feel　myself　getting　better。　　Thomasin；　how　long　are　you　going　to　stay　at　the　inn；　now　that　all　this　money　has　e　to　your　husband？”
“Another　month　or　two；　probably；　until　my　illness　is　over。　　We　cannot　get　off　till　then。　　I　think　it　will　be　a　month　or　more。”
“Yes；　yes。　　Of　course。　　Ah；　Cousin　Tamsie；　you　will　get　over　your　trouble—one　little　month　will　take　you　through　it；　and　bring　something　to　console　you；　but　I　shall　never　get　over　mine；　and　no　consolation　will　e！”
“Clym；　you　are　unjust　to　yourself。　　Depend　upon　it；　Aunt　thought　kindly　of　you。　　I　know　that；　if　she　had　lived；　you　would　have　been　reconciled　with　her。”
“But　she　didn’t　e　to　see　me；　though　I　asked　her；　before　I　married；　if　she　would　e。　　Had　she　e；　or　had　I　gone　there；　she　would　never　have　died　saying；　‘I　am　a　broken…hearted　woman；　cast　off　by　my　son。’　My　door　has　always　been　open　to　her—a　wele　here　has　always　awaited　her。　　But　that　she　never　came　to　see。”
“You　had　better　not　talk　any　more　now；　Clym；”　said　Eustacia　faintly　from　the　other　part　of　the　room；　for　the　scene　was　growing　intolerable　to　her。　
“Let　me　talk　to　you　instead　for　the　little　time　I　shall　be　here；”　Thomasin　said　soothingly。　　“Consider　what　a　one…sided　way　you　have　of　looking　at　the　matter；　Clym。　　When　she　said　that　to　the　little　boy　you　had　not　found　her　and　taken　her　into　your　arms；　and　it　might　have　been　uttered　in　a　moment　of　bitterness。　　It　was　rather　like　Aunt　to　say　things　in　haste。　　She　sometimes　used　to　speak　so　to　me。　　Though　she　did　not　e　I　am　convinced　that　she　thought　of　ing　to　see　you。　　Do　you　suppose　a　man’s　mother　could　live　two　or　three　months　without　one　forgiving　thought？　　She　forgave　me；　and　why　should　she　not　have　forgiven　you？”
“You　laboured　to　win　her　round；　I　did　nothing。　　I；　who　was　going　to　teach　people　the　higher　secrets　of　happiness；　did　not　know　how　to　keep　out　of　that　gross　misery　which　the　most　untaught　are　wise　enough　to　avoid。”
“How　did　you　get　here　tonight；　Thomasin？”　said　Eustacia。　
“Damon　set　me　down　at　the　end　of　the　lane。　　He　has　driven　into　East　Egdon　on　business；　and　he　will　e　and　pick　me　up　by…and…by。”
Accordingly　they　soon　after　heard　the　noise　of　wheels。　　Wildeve　had　e；　and　was　waiting　outside　with　his　horse　and　gig。　
“Send　out　and　tell　him　I　will　be　down　in　two　minutes；”　said　Thomasin。　
“I　will　run　down　myself；”　said　Eustacia。
She　went　down。　　Wildeve　had　alighted；　and　was　standing　before　the　horse’s　head　when　Eustacia　opened　the　door。　　He　did　not　turn　for　a　moment；　thinking　the　er　Thomasin。　
Then　he　looked；　startled　ever　so　little；　and　said　one　word：
“Well？”
“I　have　not　yet　told　him；”　she　replied　in　a　whisper。　
“Then　don’t　do　so　till　he　is　well—it　will　be　fatal。　
You　are　ill　yourself。”
“I　am　wretched。。。。O　Damon；”　she　said；　bursting　into　tears；　“I—I　can’t　tell　you　how　unhappy　I　am！　I　can　hardly　bear　this。　　I　can　tell　nobody　of　my　trouble—nobody　knows　of　it　but　you。”
“Poor　girl！”　said　Wildeve；　visibly　affected　at　her　distress；　and　at　last　led　on　so　far　as　to　take　her　hand。　　“It　is　hard；　when　you　have　done　nothing　to　deserve　it；　that　you　should　have　got　involved　in　such　a　web　as　this。　　You　were　not　made　for　these　sad　scenes。　　I　am　to　blame　most。　
If　I　could　only　have　saved　you　from　it　all！”
“But；　Damon；　please　pray　tell　me　what　I　must　do？　　To　sit　by　him　hour　after　hour；　and　hear　him　reproach　himself　as　being　the　cause　of　her　death；　and　to　know　that　I　am　the　sinner；　if　any　human　being　is　at　all；　drives　me　into　cold　despair。　　I　don’t　know　what　to　do。　　Should　I　tell　him　or　should　I　not　tell　him？　　I　always　am　asking　myself　that。　　O；　I　want　to　tell　him；　and　yet　I　am　afraid。　　If　he　find　it　out　he　must　surely　kill　me；　for　nothing　else　will　be　in　proportion　to　his　feelings　now。　　‘Beware　the　fury　of　a　patient　man’　sounds　day　by　day　in　my　ears　as　I　watch　him。”
“Well；　wait　till　he　is　better；　and　trust　to　chance。　　And　when　you　tell；　you　must　only　tell　part—for　his　own　sake。”
“Which　part　should　I　keep　back？”
Wildeve　paused。　　“That　I　was　in　the　house　at　the　time；”　he　said　in　a　low　tone。　
“Yes；　it　must　be　concealed；　seeing　what　has　been　whispered。　　How　much　easier　are　hasty　actions　than　speeches　that　will　excuse　them！”
“If　he　were　only　to　die—“　Wildeve　murmured。　
“Do　not　think　of　it！　I　would　not　buy　hope　of　immunity　by　so　cowardly　a　desire　even　if　I　hated　him。　　Now　I　am　going　up　to　him　again。　　Thomasin　bade　me　tell　you　she　would　be　down　in　a　few　minutes。　　Good…bye。”
She　returned；　and　Thomasin　soon　appeared。　　When　she　was　seated　in　the　gig　with　her　husband；　and　the　horse　was　turning　to　go　off；　Wildeve　lifted　his　eyes　to　the　bedroom　windows。　　Looking　from　one　of　them　he　could　discern　a　pale；　tragic　face　watching　him　drive　away。　　It　was　Eustacia’s。


2　… A　Lurid　Light　Breaks　in　upon　a　Darkened　Understanding


Clym’s　grief　became　mitigated　by　wearing　itself　out。　　His　strength　returned；　and　a　month　after　the　visit　of　Thomasin　he　might　have　been　seen　walking　about　the　garden。　　Endurance　and　despair；　equanimity　and　gloom；　the　tints　of　health　and　the　pallor　of　death；　mingled　weirdly　in　his　face。　　He　was　now　unnaturally　silent　upon　all　of　the　past　that　related　to　his　mother；　and　though　Eustacia　knew　that　he　was　thinking　of　it　none　the　less；　she　was　only　too　glad　to　escape　the　topic　ever　to　bring　it　up　anew。　　When　his　mind　had　been　weaker　his　heart　had　led　him　to　speak　out；　but　reason　having　now　somewhat　recovered　itself　he　sank　into　taciturnity。　
One　evening　when　he　was　thus　standing　in　the　garden；　abstractedly　spudding　up　a　weed　with　his　stick；　a　bony　figure　turned　the　corner　of　the　house　and　came　up　to　him。　
“Christian；　isn’t　it？”　said　Clym。　　“I　am　glad　you　have　found　me　out。　　I　shall　soon　want　you　to　go　to　Blooms…End　and　assist　me　in　putting　the　house　in　order。　　I　suppose　it　is　all　locked　up　as　I　left　it？”
“Yes；　Mister　Clym。”
“Have　you　dug　up　the　potatoes　and　other　roots？”
“Yes；　without　a　drop　o’　rain；　thank　God。　　But　I　was　ing　to　tell　‘ee　of　something　else　which　is　quite　different　from　what　we　have　lately　had　in　the　family。　　I　am　sent　by　the　rich　gentleman　at　the　Woman；　that　we　used　to　call　the　landlord；　to　tell　‘ee　that　Mrs。　Wildeve　is　doing　well　of　a　girl；　which　was　born　punctually　at　one　o’clock　at　noon；　or　a　few　minutes　more　or　less；　and　‘tis　said　that　expecting　of　this　increase　is　what　have　kept　‘em　there　since　they　came　into　their　money。”
“And　she　is　getting　on　well；　you　say？”
“Yes；　sir。　　Only　Mr。　Wildeve　is　twanky　because　‘tisn’t　a　boy—that’s　what　they　say　in　the　kitchen；　but　I　was　not　supposed　to　notice　that。”
“Christian；　now　listen　to　me。”
“Yes；　sure；　Mr。　Yeobright。”
“Did　you　see　my　mother　the　day　before　she　died？”
“No；　I　did　not。”
Yeobright’s　face　expressed　disappointment。　
“But　I　zeed　her　the　morning　of　the　same　day　she　died。”
Clym’s　look　lighted　up。　　“That’s　nearer　still　to　my　meaning；”　he　said。
“Yes；　I　know　‘twas　the　same　day；　for　she　said；　‘I　be　going　to　see　him；　Christian；　so　I　shall　not　want　any　vegetables　brought　in　for　dinner。’”
“See　whom？”
“See　you。　　She　was　going　to　your　house；　you　understand。”
Yeobright　regarded　Christian　with　intense　surprise。　　“Why　did　you　never　mention　this？”　he　said。　　“Are　you　sure　it　was　my　house　she　was　ing　to？”
“O　yes。　　I　didn’t　mention　it　because　I’ve　never　zeed　you　lately。　　And　as　she　didn’t　get　there　it　was　all　nought；　and　nothing　to　tell。”
“And　I　have　been　wondering　why　she　should　have　walked　in　the　heath　on　that　hot　day！　Well；　did　she　say　what　she