armadale-第141章

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his　own　office。

The　citizens　of　Thorpe　Ambrose　looked　at　the　closed　door；　and
gravely　shook　their　heads。　Mr。　Mack　had　disappointed　them。　No
opinion　which　openly　recognizes　the　frailty　of　human　nature　is
ever　a　popular　opinion　with　mankind。　〃It's　as　good　as　saying　that
any　of　_us_　might　have　married　her　if　_we_　had　been　Mr。
Armadale's　age！〃　Such　was　the　general　impression　on　the　minds　of
the　conclave；　when　the　meeting　had　been　adjourned；　and　the
members　were　leaving　the　station。

The　last　of　the　party　to　go　was　a　slow　old　gentleman；　with　a
habit　of　deliberately　looking　about　him。　Pausing　at　the　door；
this　observant　person　stared　up　the　platform　and　down　the
platform；　and　discovered　in　the　latter　direction；　standing　behind
an　angle　of　the　wall；　an　elderly　man　in　black；　who　had　escaped
the　notice　of　everybody　up　to　that　time。　〃Why；　bless　my　soul！〃
said　the　old　gentleman；　advancing　inquisitively　by　a　step　at　a
time；　〃it　can't　be　Mr。　Bashwood！〃

It　_was_　Mr。　BashwoodMr。　Bashwood；　whose　constitutional
curiosity　had　taken　him　privately　to　the　station；　bent　on　solving
the　mystery　of　Allan's　sudden　journey　to　LondonMr。　Bashwood；
who　had　seen　and　heard；　behind　his　angle　in　the　wall；　what
everybody　else　had　seen　and　heard；　and　who　appeared　to　have　been
impressed　by　it　in　no　ordinary　way。　He　stood　stiffly　against　the
wall；　like　a　man　petrified；　with　one　hand　pressed　on　his　bare
head；　and　the　other　holding　his　hathe　stood；　with　a　dull　flush
on　his　face；　and　a　dull　stare　in　his　eyes；　looking　straight　into
the　black　depths　of　the　tunnel　outside　the　station；　as　if　the
train　to　London　had　disappeared　in　it　but　the　moment　before。

〃Is　your　head　bad？〃　asked　the　old　gentleman。　〃Take　my　advice。　Go
home　and　lie　down。〃

Mr。　Bashwood　listened　mechanically；　with　his　usual　attention；　and
answered　mechanically；　with　his　usual　politeness。

〃Yes；　sir；〃　he　said；　in　a　low；　lost　tone；　like　a　man　between
dreaming　and　waking；　〃I'll　go　home　and　lie　down。〃

〃That's　right；〃　rejoined　the　old　gentleman；　making　for　the　door。
〃And　take　a　pill；　Mr。　Bashwoodtake　a　pill。〃

Five　minutes　later；　the　porter　charged　with　the　business　of
locking　up　the　station　found　Mr。　Bashwood；　still　standing
bare…headed　against　the　wall；　and　still　looking　straight　into　the
black　depths　of　the　tunnel；　as　if　the　train　to　London　had
disappeared　in　it　but　a　moment　since。

〃Come；　sir！〃　said　the　porter；　〃I　must　lock　up。　Are　you　out　of
sorts？　Anything　wrong　with　your　inside？　Try　a　drop　of
gin…and…bitters。〃

〃Yes；〃　said　Mr。　Bashwood；　answering　the　porter；　exactly　as　he　had
answered　the　old　gentleman；　〃I'll　try　a　drop　of　gin…and…bitters。〃

The　porter　took　him　by　the　arm；　and　led　him　out。　〃You'll　get　it
there；〃　said　the　man；　pointing　confidentially　to　a　public…house；
〃and　you'll　get　it　good。〃

〃I　shall　get　it　there；〃　echoed　Mr。　Bashwood；　still　mechanically
repeating　what　was　said　to　him；　〃and　I　shall　get　it　good。〃

His　will　seemed　to　be　paralyzed；　his　actions　depended　absolutely
on　what　other　people　told　him　to　do。　He　took　a　few　steps　in　the
direction　of　the　public…house；　hesitated；　staggered；　and　caught
at　the　pillar　of　one　of　the　station　lamps　near　him。

The　porter　followed；　and　took　him　by　the　arm　once　more。

〃Why；　you've　been　drinking　already！〃　exclaimed　the　man；　with　a
suddenly　quickened　interest　in　Mr。　Bashwood's　case。　〃What　was　it？
Beer？〃

Mr。　Bashwood；　in　his　low；　lost　tones；　echoed　the　last　word。

It　was　close　on　the　porter's　dinner…time。　But；　when　the　lower
orders　of　the　English　people　believe　they　have　discovered　an
intoxicated　man；　their　sympathy　with　him　is　boundless。　The　porter
let　his　dinner　take　i　ts　chance；　and　carefully　assisted　Mr。
Bashwood　to　reach　the　public…house。　〃Gin…and…bitters　will　put　you
on　your　legs　again；〃　whispered　this　Samaritan　setter…right　of　the
alcoholic　disasters　of　mankind。

If　Mr。　Bashwood　had　really　been　intoxicated；　the　effect　of　the
porter's　remedy　would　have　been　marvelous　indeed。　Almost　as　soon
as　the　glass　was　emptied；　the　stimulant　did　its　work。　The
long…weakened　nervous　system　of　the　deputy…steward；　prostrated
for　the　moment　by　the　shock　that　had　fallen　on　it；　rallied　again
like　a　weary　horse　under　the　spur。　The　dull　flush　on　his　cheeks；
the　dull　stare　in　his　eyes；　disappeared　simultaneously。　After　a
momentary　effort；　he　recovered　memory　enough　of　what　had　passed
to　thank　the　porter；　and　to　ask　whether　he　would　take　something
himself。　The　worthy　creature　instantly　accepted　a　dose　of　his　own
remedyin　the　capacity　of　a　preventiveand　went　home　to　dinner
as　only　those　men　can　go　home　who　are　physically　warmed　by
gin…and…bitters　and　morally　elevated　by　the　performance　of　a　good
action。

Still　strangely　abstracted　（but　conscious　now　of　the　way　by　which
he　went）；　Mr。　Bashwood　left　the　public…house　a　few　minutes　later；
in　his　turn。　He　walked　on　mechanically；　in　his　dreary　black
garments；　moving　like　a　blot　on　the　white　surface　of　the
sun…brightened　road；　as　Midwinter　had　seen　him　move　in　the　early
days　at　Thorpe　Ambrose；　when　they　had　first　met。　Arrived　at　the
point　where　he　had　to　choose　between　the　way　that　led　into　the
town　and　the　way　that　led　to　the　great　house；　he　stopped；
incapable　of　deciding；　and　careless；　apparently；　even　of　making
the　attempt。　〃I'll　be　revenged　on　her！〃　he　whispered　to　himself；
still　absorbed　in　his　jealous　frenzy　of　rage　against　the　woman
who　had　deceived　him。　〃I'll　be　revenged　on　her；〃　he　repeated；　in
louder　tones；　〃if　I　spend　every　half…penny　I've　got！〃

Some　women　of　the　disorderly　sort；　passing　on　their　way　to　the
town；　heard　him。　〃Ah；　you　old　brute；〃　they　called　out；　with　the
measureless　license　of　their　class；　〃whatever　she　did；　she　served
you　right！〃

The　coarseness　of　the　voices　startled　him；　whether　he
comprehended　the　words　or　not。　He　shrank　away　from　more
interruption　and　more　insult；　into　the　quieter　road　that　led　to
the　great　house。

At　a　solitary　place　by　the　wayside　he　stopped　and　sat　down。　He
took　off　his　hat　and　lifted　his　youthful　wig　a　little　from　his
bald　old　head；　and　tried　desperately　to　get　beyond　the　one
immovable　conviction　which　lay　on　his　mind　like　leadthe
conviction　that　Miss　Gwilt　had　been　purposely　deceiving　him　from
the　first。　It　was　useless。　No　effort　would　free　him　from　that　one
dominant　impression；　and　from　the　one　answering　idea　that　it　had
evokedthe　idea　of　revenge。　He　got　up　again；　and　put　on　his　hat
and　walked　rapidly　forward　a　little　waythen　turned　without
knowing　why；　and　slowly　walked　back　again　〃If　I　had　only　dressed
a　little　smarter！〃　said　the　poor　wretch；　helplessly。　〃If　I　had
only　been　a　little　bolder　with　her；　she　might　have　overlooked　my
being　an　old　man！〃　The　angry　fit　returned　on　him。　He　clinched　his
clammy；　trembling　hands；　and　shook　them　fiercely　in　the　empty
air。　〃I'll　be　revenged　on　her；〃　he　reiterated。　〃I'll　be　revenged
on　her；　if　I　spend　every　half…penny　I've　got！〃　It　was　terribly
suggestive　of　the　hold　she　had　taken　on　him；　that　his　vindictive
sense　of　injury　could　not　get　far　enough　away　from　her　to　reach
the　man　whom　he　believed　to　be　his　rival；　even　yet。　In　his　rage；
as　in　his　love；　he　was　absorbed；　body　and　soul；　by　Miss　Gwilt。

In　a　moment　more；　the　noise　of　running　wheels　approaching　from
behind　startled　him。　He　turned　and　looked　round。　There　was　Mr。
Pedgift　the　elder；　rapidly　overtaking　him　in　the　gig；　just　as　Mr。
Pedgift　had　overtaken　him　once　already；　on　that　former　occasion
when　he　had　listened　under　the　window　at　the　great　house；　and
when　the　lawyer　had　bluntly　charged　him　with　feeling　a　curiosity
about　Miss　Gwilt！

In　an　instant　the　inevitable　association　of　ideas　burst　on　his
mind。　The　opinion　of　Miss　Gwilt；　which　he　had　heard　the　lawyer
express　to　Allan　at　parting；　flashed　back　into　his　memory；　side
by　side　with　Mr。　Pedgift's　sarcastic　approval　of　anything　in　the
way　of　inquiry　which　his　own　curiosity　might　attempt。　〃I　may　be
even　with　her　yet；〃　he　thought；　〃if　Mr。　Pedgift　will　help
me！Stop；　sir！〃　he　called　out；　desperately；　as　the　gig　came　up
with　him。　〃If　you　please；　sir；　I　want　to　speak　to　you。〃

Pedgift　Senior　slackened　the　pace　of　his　fast…trotting　mare；
without　pulling　up。　〃Come　to　the　office　in　half　an　h