Tristram of Blent. Anthony Hope

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ it were true?" she asked. "I mean, couldn't Lady Tristram somehow——?"

      "If what was true? Oh, the nonsense you told Duplay?" He laughed. "If it was true, I should be a nobody and nobody's son. I suppose that would amuse you very much, wouldn't it? You wouldn't have come to Merrion for nothing then! But as it isn't true, what's the use of talking?"

      He won no belief from her when he said that it was not true; to her quick mind the concentrated bitterness with which he described what it would mean to him showed that he believed it and that the thought was no new one; in imagination he had heard the world calling him many times what he now called himself—if the thing were true. She drew her cloak round her and shivered.

      "Cold?" he asked.

      "No. Wretched, wretched."

      "Would you like to see my mother?"

      "You wouldn't let her see me?"

      "She's asleep, and the nurse is at supper—not that she'd matter. Come along."

      He turned and began to walk quickly toward the house; Mina followed him as though in a dream. They entered a large hall. It was dark, save for one candle, and she could see nothing of its furniture. He led her straight up a broad oak staircase that rose from the middle of it, and then along a corridor. The polished oak gleamed here and there as they passed candles in brackets on the wall, and was slippery under her unaccustomed feet. The whole house was very still—still, cool, and very peaceful.

      Cautiously he opened a door and beckoned her to follow him. Lights were burning in the room. Lady Tristram lay sleeping; her hair, still fair and golden, spread over the pillow; her face was calm and unlined. She seemed a young and beautiful girl wasted by a fever; but the fever was the fever of life as well as of disease. Thus Mina saw again the lady she had seen at Heidelberg.

      "She won't wake—she's had her sleeping draught," he said; and Mina took him to mean that she might linger a moment more. She cast her eyes round the room. Over the fireplace, facing the bed, was a full-length portrait of a girl. She was dressed all in red; the glory of her white neck, her brilliant hair, and her blue eyes rose out of the scarlet setting. This was Addie Tristram in her prime; as she was when she fled with Randolph Edge, as she was when she cried in the little room at Heidelberg, "Think of the difference it makes, the enormous difference!"

      "My mother likes to have that picture there," Harry explained.

      The sleeping woman stirred faintly. In obedience to a look from Harry, Mina followed him from the room, and they passed downstairs and through the hall together in silence. He came with her as far as the bridge. There he paused. The scene they had left had apparently stirred no new emotion in him; but Mina Zabriska was trembling and moved to the heart.

      "Now you've seen her—and before that you'd seen me. And perhaps now you'll understand that we're the Tristrams of Blent, and that we live and die that." His voice grew a little louder. "And your nonsense!" he exclaimed; "it's all a lie. But if it was true? It's the blood, isn't it, not the law, that matters? It's her blood and my blood. That's my real title to Blent!"

      In the midst of his lying he spoke truth there, and Mina knew it. It seemed as though there, to her, in the privacy of that night, he lied as but a matter of form; his true heart, his true purpose, and his true creed he showed her in his last words. By right of blood he claimed to stand master of Blent, and so he meant to stand.

      "Yes," she said. "Yes, yes. God help you to it." She turned and left him, and ran up the hill, catching her breath in sobs again.

      Harry Tristram stood and watched her as long as he could see her retreating figure. There were no signs of excitement about him; even his confession of faith he had spoken calmly, although with strong emphasis. He smiled now as he turned on his heel and took his way back to the house.

      "The Major must play his hand alone now," he said; "he'll get no more help from her." He paused a moment. "It's a funny thing, though. That's not really why I took her up."

      He shook his head in puzzle; perhaps he could hardly be expected to recognize that it was that pride of his—pride in his mother, his race, himself—which had made him bid Mina Zabriska look upon Lady Tristram as she slept.

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

/9j/4AAQSkZJRgABAQAAAQABAAD/2wBDAAMCAgMCAgMDAwMEAwMEBQgFBQQEBQoHBwYIDAoMDAsK CwsNDhIQDQ4RDgsLEBYQERMUFRUVDA8XGBYUGBIUFRT/2wBDAQMEBAUEBQkFBQkUDQsNFBQUFBQU FBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBT/wAARCAeoBXgDAREA AhEBAxEB/8QAHQAAAgMBAQEBAQAAAAAAAAAAAgMAAQQHCAYFCf/EAGIQAAICAQMCBAMFBQQFBQsA GwECAxEABBIhMUETIlFhBRRxBgcjMoEIQpGhsSTB0fAVM1Lh8WJygpKyFhc0Q3N0g5Oio7PTJSY1 NmNk0hgnN1OEwkRVdZTDRUZUtChWZeP/xAAbAQADAQEBAQEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAQIDBQQGB//EAEMR AQADAAEDAwMCAgcHBAEACwEAAhEhEjFBAyJRBDJhBXETsTNCgZGhwdEGFCM0UnLwFSRi4UNTFvEl kqLCNUSygv/aAAwDAQACEQMRAD8A6NsUTaBZuiihQ7EZ8P4cn7K4NS0Q2jT4UurMTBlLAdMfU3yR 0HpdWM0hUeWBjHuUkMTt7V0yXTSad8YqOWOVp0Xb+c9R7YcnMRipGAJGYFOwyVbED+eLvsrgwYmP ShRq/EVXbeShYcZbYcyZVohbYcq+J8Q05oeGqdgOTi0Kp5jRfUHxF62NZdNqBGKPYAfqf5ZVeE2T 6nNbZGRohb

СКАЧАТЬ