the frozen deep-第13章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


is　a　risk；　my　love；　to　be　out　so　long　in　the　night　air。〃

〃No！　no！　I　like　it。　Playwhile　I　am　out　here　looking　at　the　sea。
It　quiets　me；　it　comforts　me；　it　does　me　good。〃

She　glides　back；　ghost…like；　over　the　lawn。　Mrs。　Crayford　rises；
and　puts　down　the　volume　that　she　has　been　reading。　It　is　a
record　of　explorations　in　the　Arctic　seas。　The　time　has　gone　by
when　the　two　lonely　women　could　take　an　interest　in　subjects　not
connected　with　their　own　anxieties。　Now；　when　hope　is　fast
failing　themnow；　when　their　last　news　of　the　_Wanderer_　and　the
_Sea…mew_　is　news　that　is　more　than　two　years　oldthey　can　read
of　nothing；　they　can　think　of　nothing；　but　dangers　and
discoveries；　losses　and　rescues　in　the　terrible　Polar　seas。

Unwillingly；　Mrs。　Crayford　puts　her　book　aside；　and　opens　the
pianoMozart's　〃Air　in　A；　with　Variations；〃　lies　open　on　the
instrument。　One　after　another　she　plays　the　lovely　melodies；　so
simply；　so　purely　beautiful；　of　that　unpretending　and　unrivaled
work。　At　the　close　of　the　ninth　Variation　（Clara's　favorite）；　she
pauses；　and　turns　toward　the　garden。

〃Shall　I　stop　there？〃　she　asks。

There　is　no　answer。　Has　Clara　wandered　away　out　of　hearing　of　the
music　that　she　lovesthe　music　that　harmonizes　so　subtly　with
the　tender　beauty　of　the　night？　Mrs。　Crayford　rises　and　advances
to　the　window。

No！　there　is　the　white　figure　standing　alone　on　the　slope　of　the
lawnthe　head　turned　away　from　the　house；　the　face　looking　out
over　the　calm　sea；　whose　gently　rippling　waters　end　in　the　dim
line　on　the　horizon　which　is　the　line　of　the　Hampshire　coast。

Mrs。　Crayford　advances　as　far　as　the　path　before　the　window；　and
calls　to　her。

〃Clara！〃

Again　there　is　no　answer。　The　white　figure　still　stands　immovably
in　its　place。

With　signs　of　distress　in　her　face；　but　with　no　appearance　of
alarm；　Mrs。　Crayford　returns　to　the　room。　Her　own　sad　experience
tells　her　what　has　happened。　She　summons　the　servants　and　directs
them　to　wait　in　the　drawing…room　until　she　calls　to　them。　This
done；　she　returns　to　the　garden；　and　approaches　the　mysterious
figure　on　the　lawn。

Dead　to　the　outer　world；　as　if　she　lay　already　in　her
graveinsensible　to　touch；　insensible　to　sound；　motionless　as
stone；　cold　as　stoneClara　stands　on　the　moonlit　lawn；　facing
the　seaward　view。　Mrs。　Crayford　waits　at　her　side；　patiently
watching　for　the　change　which　she　knows　is　to　come。　〃Catalepsy；〃
as　some　call　it〃hysteria；〃　as　others　saythis　alone　is
certain；　the　same　interval　always　passes；　the　same　change　always
appears。

It　comes　now。　Not　a　change　in　her　eyes；　they　still　remain　wide
open；　fixed　and　glassy。　The　first　movement　is　a　movement　of　her
hands。　They　rise　slowly　from　her　side　and　waver　in　the　air　like
the　hands　of　a　person　groping　in　the　dark。　Another　interval；　and
the　movement　spreads　to　her　lips：　they　part　and　tremble。　A　few
minutes　more；　and　words　begin　to　drop；　one　by　one；　from　those
parted　lipswords　spoken　in　a　lost；　vacant　tone；　as　if　she　is
talking　in　her　sleep。

Mrs。　Crayford　looks　back　at　the　house。　Sad　experience　makes　her
suspicious　of　the　servants'　curiosity。　Sad　experience　has　long
since　warned　her　that　the　servants　are　not　to　be　trusted　within
hearing　of　the　wild　words　which　Clara　speaks　in　the　trance。　Has
any　one　of　them　ventured　into　the　garden？　No。　They　are　out　of
hearing　at　the　window；　waiting　for　the　signal　which　tells　them
that　their　help　is　needed。

Turning　toward　Clara　once　more；　Mrs。　Crayford　hears　the　vacantly
uttered　words；　falling　faster　and　faster　from　her　lips

〃Frank！　Frank！　Frank！　Don't　drop　behinddon't　trust　Richard
Wardour。　While　you　can　stand；　keep　with　the　other　men；　Frank！〃

（The　farewell　warning　of　Crayford　in　the　solitudes　of　the　Frozen
Deep；　repeated　by　Clara　in　the　garden　of　her　English　home！）

A　moment　of　silence　follows；　and；　in　that　moment；　the　vision　has
changed。　She　sees　him　on　the　iceberg　now；　at　the　mercy　of　the
bitterest　enemy　he　has　on　earth。　She　sees　him　driftingover　the
black　water；　through　the　ashy　light。

〃Wake；　Frank！　wake　and　defend　yourself！　Richard　Wardour　knows
that　I　love　youRichard　Wardour's　vengeance　will　take　your　life！
Wake；　Frankwake！　You　are　drifting　to　your　death！〃　A　low　groan
of　horror　bursts　from　her；　sinister　and　terrible　to　hear。
〃Drifting！　drifting！〃　she　whispers　to　herself〃drifting　to　his
death！〃

Her　glassy　eyes　suddenly　softenthen　close。　A　long　shudder　runs
through　her。　A　faint　flush　shows　itself　on　the　deadly　pallor　of
her　face；　and　fades　again。　Her　limbs　fail　her。　She　sinks　into
Mrs。　Crayford's　arms。

The　servants；　answering　the　call　for　help；　carry　her　into　the
house。　They　lay　her　insensible　on　her　bed。　After　half　an　hour　or
more；　her　eyes　open　againthis　time　with　the　light　of　life　in
themopen；　and　rest　languidly　on　the　friend　sitting　by　the
bedside。

〃I　have　had　a　dreadful　dream；〃　she　murmurs　faintly。　〃Am　I　ill；
Lucy？　I　feel　so　weak。〃

Even　as　she　says　the　words；　sleep；　gentle；　natural　sleep；　takes
her　suddenly；　as　it　takes　young　children　weary　with　their　play。
Though　it　is　all　over　now；　though　no　further　watching　is
required；　Mrs。　Crayford　still　keeps　her　place　by　the　bedside；　too
anxious　and　too　wakeful　to　retire　to　her　own　room。

On　other　occasions；　she　is　accustomed　to　dismiss　from　her　mind
the　words　which　drop　from　Clara　in　the　trance。　This　time　the
effort　to　dismiss　them　is　beyond　her　power。　The　words　haunt　her。
Vainly　she　recalls　to　memory　all　that　the　doctors　have　said　to
her；　in　speaking　of　Clara　in　the　state　of　trance。　〃What　she
vaguely　dreads　for　the　lost　man　whom　she　loves　is　mingled　in　her
mind　with　what　she　is　constantly　reading；　of　trials；　dangers；　and
escapes　in　the　Arctic　seas。　The　most　startling　things　that　she
may　say　or　do　are　all　attributable　to　this　cause；　and　may　all　be
explained　in　this　way。〃　So　the　doctors　have　spoken；　and；　thus
far；　Mrs。　Crayford　has　shared　their　view。　It　is　only　to…night
that　the　girl's　words　ring　in　her　ear；　with　a　strange　prophetic
sound　in　them。　It　is　only　to…night　that　she　asks　herself：　〃Is
Clara　present；　in　the　spirit；　with　our　loved　and　lost　ones　in　the
lonely　North？　Can　mortal　vision　see　the　dead　and　living　in　the
solitudes　of　the　Frozen　Deep？〃



Chapter　14。


The　night　had　passed。

Far　and　near　the　garden　view　looked　its　gayest　and　brightest　in
the　light　of　the　noonday　sun。　The　cheering　sounds　which　tell　of
life　and　action　were　audible　all　round　the　villa。　From　the　garden
of　the　nearest　house　rose　the　voices　of　children　at　play。　Along
the　road　at　the　back　sounded　the　roll　of　wheels；　as　carts　and
carriages　passed　at　intervals。　Out　on　the　blue　sea；　the　distant
splash　of　the　paddles；　the　distant　thump　of　the　engines；　told
from　time　to　time　of　the　passage　of　steamers；　entering　or　leaving
the　strait　between　the　island　and　the　mainland。　In　the　trees；　the
birds　sang　gayly　among　the　rustling　leaves。　In　the　house；　the
women…servants　were　laughing　over　some　jest　or　story　that　cheered
them　at　their　work。　It　was　a　lively　and　pleasant　timea　bright；
enjoyable　day。

The　two　ladies　were　out　together；　resting　on　a　garden　seat；　after
a　walk　round　the　grounds。

They　exchanged　a　few　trivial　words　relating　to　the　beauty　of　the
day；　and　then　said　no　more。　Possessing　the　same　consciousness　of
what　she　had　seen　in　the　trance　which　persons　in　general　possess
of　what　they　have　seen　in　a　dreambelieving　in　the　vision　as　a
supernatural　revelationClara's　worst　forebodings　were　now；　to
her　mind；　realized　as　truths。　Her　last　faint　hope　of　ever　seeing
Frank　again　was　now　at　an　end。　Intimate　experience　of　her　told
Mrs。　Crayford　what　was　passing　in　Clara's　mind；　and　warned　her
that　the　attempt　to　reason　and　remonstrate　would　be　little　better
than　a　voluntary　waste　of　words　and　time。　The　disposition　which
she　had　herself　felt　on　the　previous　night；　to　attach　a
superstitious　importance　to　the　words　that　Clara　had　spoken　in
the　trance；　had　vanished　with　the　return　of　the　morning。　Rest　and
reflection　had　quieted　her　mind；　and　had　restored　the　composing
influence　of　her　sober　sense。　Sympathizing　with　Clara　in　all
besides；　she　had　no　sympathy；　as　they　sat　together　in　the
pleasant　sunshine；　with　Clara's　gloomy　despair　of