armadale-第168节

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into　Midwinter's　hands。　He　let　go　of　Mr。　Bashwood's　arm；　and
accepted　Mr。　Bashwood's　explanation。

〃I　beg　your　pardon；〃　he　said；　〃I　have　no　doubt　you　are　right。
Pray　attribute　my　rudeness　to　over…anxiety　and　over…fatigue。　I
wish　you　good…evening。〃

The　station　was　by　this　time　almost　a　solitude；　the　passengers　by
the　train　being　assembled　at　the　examination　of　their　luggage　in
the　custom…house　waiting…room。　It　was　no　easy　matter；　ostensibly
to　take　leave　of　Mr。　Bashwood；　and　really　to　keep　him　in　view。
But　Midwinter's　early　life　with　the　gypsy　master　had　been　of　a
nature　to　practice　him　in　such　stratagems　as　he　was　now　compelled
to　adopt。　He　walked　away　toward　the　waiting…room　by　the　line　of
empty　carriages；　opened　the　door　of　one　of　them；　as　if　to　look
after　something　that　he　had　left　behind；　and　detected　Mr。
Bashwood　making　for　the　cab…rank　on　the　opposite　side　of　the
platform。　In　an　instant　Midwinter　had　crossed；　and　had　passed
through　the　long　row　of　vehicles；　so　as　to　skirt　it　on　the　side
furthest　from　the　platform。　He　entered　the　second　cab　by　the
left…hand　door　the　moment　after　Mr。　Bashwood　had　entered　the
first　cab　by　the　right…hand　door。　〃Double　your　fare；　whatever　it
is；〃　he　said　to　the　driver；　〃if　you　keep　the　cab　before　you　in
view；　and　follow　it　wherever　it　goes。〃　In　a　minute　more　both
vehicles　were　on　their　way　out　of　the　station。

The　clerk　sat　in　the　sentry…box　at　the　gate；　taking　down　the
destinations　of　the　cabs　as　they　passed。　Midwinter　heard　the　man
who　was　driving　him　call　out　〃Hampstead！〃　as　he　went　by　the
clerk's　window。

〃Why　did　you　say　'Hampstead'？〃　he　asked；　when　they　had　left　the
station。

〃Because　the　man　before　me　said　'Hampstead；'　sir；〃　answered　the
driver。

Over　and　over　again；　on　the　wearisome　journey　to　the　northwestern
suburb；　Midwinter　asked　if　the　cab　was　still　in　sight。　Over　and
over　again；　the　man　answered；　〃Right　in　front　of　us。〃

It　was　between　nine　and　ten　o'clock　when　the　driver　pulled　up　his
horse　at　last。　Midwinter　got　out；　and　saw　the　cab　before　them
waiting　at　a　house　door。　As　soon　as　he　had　satisfied　himself　that
the　driver　was　the　man　whom　Mr。　Bashwood　had　hired；　he　paid　the
promised　reward；　and　dismissed　his　own　cab。

He　took　a　turn　backward　and　forward　before　the　door。　The　vaguely
terrible　suspicion　which　had　risen　in　his　mind　at　the　terminus
had　forced　itself　by　this　time　into　a　definite　form　which　was
abhorrent　to　him。　Without　the　shadow　of　an　assignable　reason　for
it；　he　found　himself　blindly　distrusting　his　wife's　fidelity；　and
blindly　suspecting　Mr。　Bashwood　of　serving　her　in　the　capacity　of
go…between。　In　sheer　horror　of　his　own　morbid　fancy；　he
determined　to　take　down　the　number　of　the　house；　and　the　name　of
the　street　in　which　it　stood；　and　then；　in　justice　to　his　wife；
to　return　at　once　to　the　address　which　she　had　given　him　as　the
address　at　which　her　mother　lived。　He　had　taken　　out　his
pocket…book；　and　was　on　his　way　to　the　corner　of　the　street；　when
he　observed　the　man　who　had　driven　Mr。　Bashwood　looking　at　him
with　an　express　ion　of　inquisitive　surprise。　The　idea　of
questioning　the　cab…driver；　while　he　had　the　opportunity；
instantly　occurred　to　him。　He　took　a　half…crown　from　his　pocket
and　put　it　into　the　man's　ready　hand。

〃Has　the　gentleman　whom　you　drove　from　the　station　gone　into　that
house？〃　he　asked。

〃Yes；　sir。〃

〃Did　you　hear　him　inquire　for　anybody　when　the　door　was　opened？〃

〃He　asked　for　a　lady；　sir。　Mrs。〃　The　man　hesitated。　〃It　wasn't
a　common　name；　sir；　I　should　know　it　again　if　I　heard　it。〃

〃Was　it　'Midwinter'？〃

〃No；　sir。

〃Armadale？〃

〃That's　it；　sir。　Mrs。　Armadale。〃

〃Are　you　sure　it　was　'Mrs。'　and　not　'Mr。'？〃

〃I'm　as　sure　as　a　man　can　be　who　hasn't　taken　any　particular
notice；　sir。

The　doubt　implied　in　that　last　answer　decided　Midwinter　to
investigate　the　matter　on　the　spot。　He　ascended　the　house　steps。
As　he　raised　his　hand　to　the　bell　at　the　side　of　the　door；　the
violence　of　his　agitation　mastered　him　physically　for　the　moment。
A　strange　sensation；　as　of　something　leaping　up　from　his　heart　to
his　brain；　turned　his　head　wildly　giddy。　He　held　by　the　house
railings　and　kept　his　face　to　the　air；　and　resolutely　waited　till
he　was　steady　again。　Then　he　rang　the　bell。

〃Is？〃he　tried　to　ask　for　〃Mrs。　Armadale；〃　when　the　maid…servant
had　opened　the　door；　but　not　even　his　resolution　could　force　the
name　to　pass　his　lips〃is　your　mistress　at　home？〃　he　asked。

〃Yes；　sir。〃

The　girl　showed　him　into　a　back　parlor；　and　presented　him　to　a
little　old　lady；　with　an　obliging　manner　and　a　bright　pair　of
eyes。

〃There　is　some　mistake；〃　said　Midwinter。　〃I　wished　to　see〃　Once
more　he　tried　to　utter　the　name；　and　once　more　he　failed　to　force
it　to　his　lips。

〃Mrs。　Armadale？〃　suggested　the　little　old　lady；　with　a　smile。

〃Yes。〃

〃Show　the　gentleman　upstairs；　Jenny。〃

The　girl　led　the　way　to　the　drawing…room　floor。

〃Any　name。　sir？〃

〃No　name。〃


Mr。　Bashwood　had　barely　completed　his　report　of　what　had　happened
at　the　terminus；　Mr。　Bashwood's　imperious　mistress　was　still
sitting　speechless　under　the　shock　of　the　discovery　that　had
burst　on　herwhen　the　door　of　the　room　opened；　and；　without　a
word　of　warning　to　proceed　him；　Midwinter　appeared　on　the
threshold。　He　took　one　step　into　the　room；　and　mechanically
pushed　the　door　to　behind　him。　He　stood　in　dead　silence；　and
confronted　his　wife；　with　a　scrutiny　that　was　terrible　in　its
unnatural　self…possession；　and　that　enveloped　her　steadily　in　one
comprehensive　look　from　head　to　foot。

In　dead　silence　on　her　side；　she　rose　from　her　chair；　In　dead
silence　she　stood　erect　on　the　hearth…rug；　and　faced　her　husband
in　widow's　weeds。　He　took　one　step　nearer　to　her；　and　stopped
again。　He　lifted　his　hand；　and　pointed　with　his　lean　brown　finger
at　her　dress。

〃What　does　that　mean？〃　he　asked；　without　losing　his　terrible
self…possession；　and　without　moving　his　outstretched　hand。

At　the　sound　of　his　voice；　the　quick　rise　and　fall　of　her
bosomwhich　had　been　the　one　outward　betrayal　thus　far　of　the
inner　agony　that　tortured　hersuddenly　stopped。　She　stood
impenetrably　silent；　breathlessly　stillas　if　his　question　had
struck　her　dead；　and　his　pointing　hand　had　petrified　her。

He　advanced　one　step　nearer；　and　reiterated　his　words　in　a　voice
even　lower　and　quieter　than　the　voice　in　which　he　had　spoken
first。

One　moment　more　of　silence；　one　moment　more　of　inaction；　might
have　been　the　salvation　of　her。　But　the　fatal　force　of　her
character　triumphed　at　the　crisis　of　her　destiny；　and　his。　White
and　still；　and　haggard　and　old；　she　met　the　dreadful　emergency
with　a　dreadful　courage；　and　spoke　the　irrevocable　words　which
renounced　him　to　his　face。

〃Mr。　Midwinter；〃　she　said；　in　tones　unnaturally　hard　and
unnaturally　clear；　〃our　acquaintance　hardly　entitles　you　to　speak
to　me　in　that　manner。〃　Those　were　her　words。　She　never　lifted　her
eyes　from　the　ground　while　she　spoke　them。　When　she　had　done；　the
last　faint　vestige　of　color　in　her　cheeks　faded　out。

There　was　a　pause。　Still　steadily　looking　at　her；　he　set　himself
to　fix　the　language　she　had　used　to　him　in　his　mind。　〃She　calls
me　'Mr。　Midwinter；'　〃　he　said；　slowly；　in　a　whisper。　〃She　speaks
of　'our　acquaintance。'　〃　He　waited　a　little　and　looked　round　the
room。　His　wandering　eyes　encountered　Mr。　Bashwood　for　the　first
time。　He　saw　the　steward　standing　near　the　fireplace；　trembling；
and　watching　him。

〃I　once　did　you　a　service；〃　he　said；　〃and　you　once　told　me　you
were　not　an　ungrateful　man。　Are　you　grateful　enough　to　answer　me
if　I　ask　you　something？〃

He　waited　a　little　again。　Mr。　Bashwood　still　stood　trembling　at
the　fireplace；　silently　watching　him。

〃I　see　you　looking　at　me；〃　he　went　on。　〃Is　there　some　change　in
me　that　I　am　not　conscious　of　myself？　Am　I　seeing　things　that　you
don't　see？　Am　I　hearing　words　that　you　don't　hear？　Am　I　looking
or　speaking　like　a　man　out　of　his　senses？〃

Again　he　waited；　and　again　the　silence　was　unbroken。　His　eyes
began　to　glitter；　and　the　savage　blood　that　he　had　inherited　from
his　mother　rose　dark　and　slow　in　his　ashy　cheeks。

〃Is　that　woman；〃　he　asked；　〃the　woman　whom　you　once　knew；　whose
name　was　Miss　Gwilt？〃

Once　more　his　wife　collected　her　fatal　courage。　Once　more　his
wife　spoke　her　fatal　words。

〃You　compel　me　to　repeat；〃　she　said；　〃that　you　are　presuming　on
our　acquaintance；　and　that　you　are　forgetting　what　is　due　to　me。〃

He　turned　upon　her；　with　a　savage　suddenness　which　forced　a　cry
of　alarm　from　Mr。　Bashwood's　lips。

〃Are　you；　or　are　you　not；　My　Wife？〃　he　asked；　through　his　set
teeth。

She　raised　her　eyes　to　his　for　the　first　time。　Her　lost　spirit
looked　at　him；　steadily　defiant；　out　of　the　hell　of　its　own
despair。

〃I　am　_not_　your　wife；〃　she　said。

He　staggered　back；　with　his　hands　groping　for　something　to　hold
by；　like　the　hands　of　a　man　in　the　dark。　He　leaned　heavily
against　the　wall　of　the　room；　and　looked　at　the　woman　who　had
slept　on　his　bosom；　and　who　had　denied　him　to　his　face。

Mr。　Bashwood　stole　panic…stricken　to　her　side。　〃Go　in　there！〃　he
whispered；　trying　to　draw　her　toward　the　folding…doors　which　led
into　the　next　room。　〃For　God's　sa