silas marner(织工马南)-第44章
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going on in the cottage； and the effect of each alternative on his
future lot。 No； not quite unconscious of everything else。 Deeper
down； and half smothered by passionate desire and dread； there
was the sense that he ought not to be waiting on these
alternatives； that he ought to accept the consequences of his
deeds； own the miserable wife； and fulfil the claims of the helpless
child。 But he had not moral courage enough to contemplate that
active renunciation of Nancy as possible for him： he had only
conscience and heart enough to make him forever uneasy under
the weakness that forbade the renunciation。 And at this moment
his mind leaped away from all restraint towards the sudden
prospect of deliverance from his long bondage。
“Is she dead？” said the voice that predominated over every
other within him。 “If she is； I may marry Nancy； and then I shall
be a good fellow in future； and have no secrets； and the child—
shall be taken care of somehow。” But across that vision came the
other possibility—”She may live； and then it’s all up with me。”
Godfrey never knew how long it was before the door of the
cottage opened and Mr。 Kimble came out。 He went forward to
meet his uncle； prepared to suppress the agitation he must feel；
whatever news he was to hear。
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“I waited for you； as I’d come so far；” he said； speaking first。
“Pooh； it was nonsense for you to come out： why didn’t you
send one of the men？ There’s nothing to be done。 She’s dead—has
been dead for hours； I should say。”
“What sort of woman is she？” said Godfrey； feeling the blood
rush to his face。
“A young woman； but emaciated； with long black hair。 Some
vagrant—quite in rags。 She’s got a wedding…ring on； however。
They must fetch her away to the workhouse tomorrow。 Come；
come along。”
“I want to look at her；” said Godfrey。 “I think I saw such a
woman yesterday。 I’ll overtake you in a minute or two。”
Mr。 Kimble went on； and Godfrey turned back to the cottage。
He cast only one glance at the dead face on the pillow； which Dolly
had smoothed with decent care； but he remembered that last look
at his unhappy hated wife so well that at the end of sixteen years
every line in the worn face was present to him when he told the
full story of this night。
He turned immediately towards the hearth； where Silas Marner
sat lulling the child。 She was perfectly quiet now； but not asleep—
only soothed by sweet porridge and warmth into that wide…gazing
calm which makes us older human beings； with our inward
turmoil； feel a certain awe in the presence of a little child； such as
we feel before some quiet majesty or beauty in the earth or sky—
before a steady glowing planet； or a full…flowered eglantine； or the
bending trees over a silent pathway。 The wide…open blue eyes
looked up at Godfrey’s without any uneasiness or sign of
recognition： the child could make no visible audible claim on its
father； and the father felt a strange mixture of feelings； a conflict
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of regret and joy； that the pulse of that little heart had no response
for the half…jealous yearning in his own； when the blue eyes turned
away from him slowly； and fixed themselves on the weaver’s queer
face； which was bent low down to look at them； while the small
hand began to pull Marner’s withered cheek with loving
disfiguration。
“You’ll take the child to the parish tomorrow？” asked Godfrey；
speaking as indifferently as he could。
“Who says so？” said Marner； sharply。 “Will they make me take
her？”
“Why； you wouldn’t like to keep her； should you—an old
bachelor like you？”
“Till anybody shows they’ve a right to take her away from me；”
said Marner。 “The mother’s dead； and I reckon it’s got no father：
it’s a lone thing—and I’m a lone thing。 My money’s gone； I don’t
know where—and this is come from I don’t know where。 I know
nothing—I’m partly mazed。”
“Poor little thing！” said Godfrey。 “Let me give something
towards finding it clothes。”
He had put his hand in his pocket and found half a guinea； and；
thrusting it into Silas’s hand； he hurried out of the cottage to
overtake Mr。 Kimble。
“Ah； I see it’s not the same woman I saw；” he said； as he came
up。 “It’s a pretty little child： the old fellow seems to want to keep it；
that’s strange for a miser like him。 But I gave him a trifle to help
him out： the parish isn’t likely to quarrel with him for the right to
keep the child。”
“No； but I’ve seen the time when I might have quarrelled with
him for it myself。 It’s too late now； though。 If the child ran into the
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fire； your aunt’s too fat to overtake it： she could only sit and grunt
like an alarmed sow。 But what a fool you are； Godfrey； to come out
in your dancing…shoes and stockings in this way—and you one of
the beaux of the evening； and at your own house！ What do you
mean by such freaks； young fellow？ Has Miss Nancy been cruel；
and do you want to spite her by spoiling your pumps？”
“Oh； everything has been disagreeable tonight。 I was tired to
death of jigging and gallanting； and that bother about the
hornpipes。 And I’d got to dance with the other Miss Gunn；” said
Godfrey； glad of the subterfuge his uncle had suggested to him。
The prevarication and white lies which a mind that keeps itself
ambitiously pure is as uneasy under as a great artist under the
false touches that no eye detects but his own； are worn as lightly
as mere trimmings when once the actions have become a lie。
Godfrey reappeared in the White Parlour with dry feet； and；
since the truth must be told； with a sense of relief and gladness
that was too strong for painful thoughts to struggle with。 For could
he not venture now； whenever opportunity offered； to say the
tenderest things to Nancy Lammeter—to promise her and himself
that he would always be just what she would desire to see him？
There was no danger that his dead wife would be recognised：
those were not days of active inquiry and wide report； and as for
the registry of their marriage； that was a long way off； buried in
unturned pages； away from every one’s interest but his own。
Dunsey might betray him if he came back； but Dunsey might be
won to silence。
And when events turn out so much better for a man than he
