Desperate Remedies, The Hand of Ethelberta & A Laodicean: Complete Illustrated Trilogy. Томас Харди

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СКАЧАТЬ wound along a drive shaded by old and drooping lime-trees, not arranged in the form of an avenue, but standing irregularly, sometimes leaving the track completely exposed to the sky, at other times casting a shade over it, which almost approached gloom — the under surface of the lowest boughs hanging at a uniform level of six feet above the grass — the extreme height to which the nibbling mouths of the cattle could reach.

      ‘Is that the house?’ said Cytherea expectantly, catching sight of a grey gable between the trees, and losing it again.

      ‘No; that’s the old manor-house — or rather all that’s left of it. The Aldycliffes used to let it sometimes, but it was oftener empty. ’Tis now divided into three cottages. Respectable people didn’t care to live there.’

      ‘Why didn’t they?’

      ‘Well, ’tis so awkward and unhandy. You see so much of it has been pulled down, and the rooms that are left won’t do very well for a small residence. ’Tis so dismal, too, and like most old houses stands too low down in the hollow to be healthy.’

      ‘Do they tell any horrid stories about it?’

      ‘No, not a single one.’

      ‘Ah, that’s a pity.’

      ‘Yes, that’s what I say. ’Tis jest the house for a nice ghastly hair-on-end story, that would make the parish religious. Perhaps it will have one some day to make it complete; but there’s not a word of the kind now. There, I wouldn’t live there for all that. In fact, I couldn’t. O no, I couldn’t.’

      ‘Why couldn’t you?’

      ‘The sounds.’

      ‘What are they?’

      ‘One is the waterfall, which stands so close by that you can hear that there waterfall in every room of the house, night or day, ill or well. ’Tis enough to drive anybody mad: now hark.’

      He stopped the horse. Above the slight common sounds in the air came the unvarying steady rush of falling water from some spot unseen on account of the thick foliage of the grove.

      ‘There’s something awful in the timing o’ that sound, ain’t there, miss?’

      ‘When you say there is, there really seems to be. You said there were two — what is the other horrid sound?’

      ‘The pumping-engine. That’s close by the Old House, and sends water up the hill and all over the Great House. We shall hear that directly. . . . There, now hark again.’

      From the same direction down the dell they could now hear the whistling creak of cranks, repeated at intervals of half-a-minute, with a sousing noise between each: a creak, a souse, then another creak, and so on continually.

      ‘Now if anybody could make shift to live through the other sounds, these would finish him off, don’t you think so, miss? That machine goes on night and day, summer and winter, and is hardly ever greased or visited. Ah, it tries the nerves at night, especially if you are not very well; though we don’t often hear it at the Great House.’

      ‘That sound is certainly very dismal. They might have the wheel greased. Does Miss Aldclyffe take any interest in these things?’

      ‘Well, scarcely; you see her father doesn’t attend to that sort of thing as he used to. The engine was once quite his hobby. But now he’s getten old and very seldom goes there.’

      ‘How many are there in family?’

      ‘Only her father and herself. He’s a’ old man of seventy.’

      ‘I had thought that Miss Aldclyffe was sole mistress of the property, and lived here alone.’

      ‘No, m —’ The coachman was continually checking himself thus, being about to style her miss involuntarily, and then recollecting that he was only speaking to the new lady’s-maid.

      ‘She will soon be mistress, however, I am afraid,’ he continued, as if speaking by a spirit of prophecy denied to ordinary humanity. ‘The poor old gentleman has decayed very fast lately.’ The man then drew a long breath.

      ‘Why did you breathe sadly like that?’ said Cytherea.

      ‘Ah! . . . When he’s dead peace will be all over with us old servants. I expect to see the old house turned inside out.’

      ‘She will marry, do you mean?’

      ‘Marry — not she! I wish she would. No, in her soul she’s as solitary as Robinson Crusoe, though she has acquaintances in plenty, if not relations. There’s the rector, Mr. Raunham — he’s a relation by marriage — yet she’s quite distant towards him. And people say that if she keeps single there will be hardly a life between Mr. Raunham and the heirship of the estate. Dang it, she don’t care. She’s an extraordinary picture of womankind — very extraordinary.’

      ‘In what way besides?’

      ‘You’ll know soon enough, miss. She has had seven lady’s-maids this last twelvemonth. I assure you ’tis one body’s work to fetch ’em from the station and take ’em back again. The Lord must be a neglectful party at heart, or he’d never permit such overbearen goings on!’

      ‘Does she dismiss them directly they come!’

      ‘Not at all — she never dismisses them — they go theirselves. Ye see ’tis like this. She’s got a very quick temper; she flees in a passion with them for nothing at all; next mornen they come up and say they are going; she’s sorry for it and wishes they’d stay, but she’s as proud as a lucifer, and her pride won’t let her say, “Stay,” and away they go. ’Tis like this in fact. If you say to her about anybody, “Ah, poor thing!” she says, “Pooh! indeed!” If you say, “Pooh, indeed!” “Ah, poor thing!” she says directly. She hangs the chief baker, as mid be, and restores the chief butler, as mid be, though the devil but Pharaoh herself can see the difference between ’em.’

      Cytherea was silent. She feared she might be again a burden to her brother.

      ‘However, you stand a very good chance,’ the man went on, ‘for I think she likes you more than common. I have never known her send the pony-carriage to meet one before; ’tis always the trap, but this time she said, in a very particular ladylike tone, “Roobert, gaow with the pony-kerriage.” . . . There, ’tis true, pony and carriage too are getten rather shabby now,’ he added, looking round upon the vehicle as if to keep Cytherea’s pride within reasonable limits.

      ”Tis to be hoped you’ll please in dressen her to-night.’

      ‘Why to-night?’

      ‘There’s a dinner-party of seventeen; ’tis her father’s birthday, and she’s very particular about her looks at such times. Now see; this is the house. Livelier up here, isn’t it, miss?’

      They were now on rising ground, and had just emerged from a clump of trees. Still a little higher than where they stood was situated the mansion, called Knapwater House, the offices gradually losing themselves among the trees behind.

      2. Evening

      The СКАЧАТЬ