adam bede(亚当[1].比德)-第168章
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knocked him down。 I felt what poor empty work it was； as soon as
I’d done it； before I began to think he might be dead。”
In this way it happened that Arthur and Adam were walking
towards the same spot at the same time。
Adam had on his working…dress again； now； for he had thrown
off the other with a sense of relief as soon as he came home； and if
he had had the basket of tools over his shoulder； he might have
been taken； with his pale wasted face； for the spectre of the Adam
Bede who entered the Grove on that August evening eight months
ago。 But he had no basket of tools； and he was not walking with
the old erectness； looking keenly round him； his hands were thrust
in his side pockets； and his eyes rested chiefly on the ground。 He
had not long entered the Grove； and now he paused before a
beech。 He knew that tree well； it was the boundary mark of his
youth—the sign； to him； of the time when some of his earliest；
strongest feelings had left him。 He felt sure they would never
return。 And yet； at this moment； there was a stirring of affection at
the remembrance of that Arthur Donnithorne whom he had
believed in before he had come up to this beech eight months ago。
It was affection for the dead： that Arthur existed no longer。
He was disturbed by the sound of approaching footsteps； but
the beech stood at a turning in the road； and he could not see who
was coming until the tall slim figure in deep mourning suddenly
stood before him at only two yards’ distance。 They both started；
and looked at each other in silence。 Often； in the last fortnight；
Adam had imagined himself as close to Arthur as this； assailing
him with words that should be as harrowing as the voice of
remorse； forcing upon him a just share in the misery he had
caused； and often； too； he had told himself that such a meeting had
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better not be。 But in imagining the meeting he had always seen
Arthur； as he had met him on that evening in the Grove； florid；
careless； light of speech； and the figure before him touched him
with the signs of suffering。 Adam knew what suffering was—he
could not lay a cruel finger on a bruised man。 He felt no impulse
that he needed to resist。 Silence was more just than reproach。
Arthur was the first to speak。
“Adam；” he said； quietly； “it may be a good thing that we have
met here； for I wished to see you。 I should have asked to see you
to…morrow。”
He paused； but Adam said nothing。
“I know it is painful to you to meet me；” Arthur went on； “but it
is not likely to happen again for years to come。”
“No； sir；” said Adam； coldly； “that was what I meant to write to
you to…morrow； as it would be better all dealings should be at an
end between us； and somebody else put in my place。”
Arthur felt the answer keenly； and it was not without an effort
that he spoke again。
“It was partly on that subject I wished to speak to you。 I don’t
want to lessen your indignation against me； or ask you to do
anything for my sake。 I only wish to ask you if you will help me to
lessen the evil consequences of the past； which is unchangeable。 I
don’t mean consequences to myself； but to others。 It is but little I
can do； I know。 I know the worst consequences will remain； but
something may be done； and you can help me。 Will you listen to
me patiently？”
“Yes； sir；” said Adam； after some hesitation； “I’ll hear what it is。
If I can help to mend anything； I will。 Anger ’ull mend nothing； I
know。 We’ve had enough o’ that。”
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“I was going to the Hermitage；” said Arthur。 “Will you go there
with me and sit down？ We can talk better there。”
The Hermitage had never been entered since they left it
together； for Arthur had locked up the key in his desk。 And now；
when he opened the door； there was the candle burnt out in the
socket； there was the chair in the same place where Adam
remembered sitting； there was the waste…paper basket full of
scraps； and deep down in it； Arthur felt in an instant； there was
the little pink silk handkerchief。 It would have been painful to
enter this place if their previous thoughts had been less painful。
They sat down opposite each other in the old places； and Arthur
said； “I’m going away； Adam； I’m going into the army。”
Poor Arthur felt that Adam ought to be affected by this
announcement—ought to have a movement of sympathy towards
him。 But Adam’s lips remained firmly closed； and the expression
of his face unchanged。
“What I want to say to you；” Arthur continued； “is this： one of
my reasons for going away is that no one else may leave
Hayslope—may leave their home on my account。 I would do
anything； there is no sacrifice I would not make； to prevent any
further injury to others through my—through what has
happened。”
Arthur’s words had precisely the opposite effect to that he had
anticipated。 Adam thought he perceived in them that notion of
compensation for irretrievable wrong； that self…soothing attempt
to make evil bear the same fruits as good； which most of all roused
his indignation。 He was as strongly impelled to look painful facts
right in the face as Arthur was to turn away his eyes from them。
Moreover； he had the wakeful suspicious pride of a poor man in
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the presence of a rich man。 He felt his old severity returning as he
said； “The time’s past for that； sir。 A man should make sacrifices to
keep clear of doing a wrong； sacrifices won’t undo it when it’s
done。 When people’s feelings have got a deadly wound； they can’t
be cured with favours。”
“Favours！” said Arthur； passionately； “no； how can you suppose
I meant that？ But the Poysers—Mr。 Irwine tells me the Poysers
mean to leave the place where they have lived so many years—for
generations。 Don’t you see； as Mr。 Irwine does； that if they could
be persuaded to overcome the feeling that drives them away； it
would be much better for them in the end to remain on the old
spot； among the friends and neighbours who know them？”
“That’s true；” said Adam coldly。 “But then； sir； folks’s feelings
are not so easily overcome。 It’ll be hard for Martin Poyser to go to
a strange place； among strange faces； when he’s been bred up on
the Hall Farm； and his father before him； but then it
