Лучшие повести британских и американских писателей / Best Short Novels by British & American Authors. Коллектив авторов
Лучшие повести британских и американских писателей / Best Short Novels by British & American Authors
birthday.
In the Summer time of the year, the Wheel of Fortune turned the right way for me at last. I was smoking my pipe one day, near an old stone quarry at the entrance to our village, when а carriage accident happened, which gave а new turn, as it were, to my lot in life. It was an accident of the commonest kind – not worth mentioning at any length. А lady driving herself; а runaway horse; а cowardly man-servant in attendance, frightened out of his wits; and the stone quarry too near to be agreeable – that is what I saw, all in а few moments, between two whiffs of my pipe. I stopped the horse at the edge of the quarry, and got myself а little hurt by the shaft of the chaise. But that didn’t matter. The lady declared I had saved her life; and her husband, coming with her to our cottage the next day, took me into his service then and there. The lady happened to be of а dark complexion; and it may amuse you to hear that my aunt Chance instantly pitched on that circumstance as а means of saving the credit of the cards. Here was the promise of the Queen of Spades performed to the very letter, by means of ‘A dark woman,’ just as my aunt had told me. ‘In the time to come, Francis, beware o’ pettin’ yer ain blinded intairpretation on the cairds. Ye’re ower ready, I trow, to murmur under dispensation of Proavidence that ye canna fathom – like the Eesraelites of auld. I’ll say nae mair to ye. Mebbe when the mony’s powering into yer poakets, ye’ll no forget yer aunt Chance, left like а sparrow on the housetop, wi’ а sma’ annuitee o’ thratty punds а year.’
I remained in my situation (at the West-end of London) until the Spring of the New Year. About that time, my master’s health failed. The doctors ordered him away to foreign parts, and the establishment was broken up. But the turn in my luck still held good. When I left my place, I left it – thanks to the generosity of my kind master – with а yearly allowance granted to me, in remembrance of the day when I had saved my mistress’s life. For the future, I could go back to service or not, as I pleased; my little income was enough to support my mother and myself.
My master and mistress left England toward the end of February. Certain matters of business to do for them detained me in London until the last day of the month. I was only able to leave for our village by the evening train, to keep my birthday with my mother as usual. It was bedtime when I got to the cottage; and I was sorry to find that she was far from well. To make matters worse, she had finished her bottle of medicine on the previous day, and had omitted to get it replenished, as the doctor had strictly directed. He dispensed his own medicines, and I offered to go and knock him up. She refused to let me do this; and, after giving me my supper, sent me away to my bed.
I fell asleep for а little, and woke again. My mother’s bed-chamber was next to mine. I heard my aunt Chance’s heavy footsteps going to and fro in the room, and, suspecting something wrong, knocked at the door. My mother’s pains had returned upon her; there was а serious necessity for relieving her sufferings as speedily as possible, I put on my clothes, and ran off, with the medicine bottle in my hand, to the other end of the village, where the doctor lived. The church clock chimed the quarter to two on my birthday just as I reached his house. One ring of the night bell brought him to his bedroom window to speak to me. He told me to wait, and he would let me in at the surgery door. I noticed, while I was waiting, that the night was wonderfully fair and warm for the time of year. The old stone quarry where the carriage accident had happened was within view. The moon in the clear heavens lit it up almost as bright as day.
In а minute or two the doctor let me into the surgery. I closed the door, noticing that he had left his room very lightly clad. He kindly pardoned my mother’s neglect of his directions, and set to work at once at compounding the medicine. We were both intent on the bottle; he filling it, and I holding the light – when we heard the surgery door suddenly opened from the street.
VIII
Who could possibly be up and about in our quiet village at the second hour of the morning?
The person who opened the door appeared within range of the light of the candle. To complete our amazement, the person proved to be а woman! She walked up to the counter, and standing side by side with me, lifted her veil. At the moment when she showed her face, I heard the church clock strike two. She was а stranger to me, and а stranger to the doctor. She was also, beyond all comparison, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life.
‘I saw the light under the door,’ she said. ‘I want some medicine.’
She spoke quite composedly, as if there was nothing at all extraordinary in her being out in the village at two in the morning, and following me into the surgery to ask for medicine! The doctor stared at her as if he suspected his own eyes of deceiving him. ‘Who are you?’ he asked. ‘How do you come to be wandering about at this time in the morning?’
She paid no heed to his questions. She only told him coolly what she wanted. ‘I have got а bad toothache. I want а bottle of laudanum.’
The doctor recovered himself when she asked for the laudanum. He was on his own ground, you know, when it came to а matter of laudanum; and he spoke to her smartly enough this time.
‘Oh, you have got the toothache, have you? Let me look at the tooth.’
She shook her head, and laid а two-shilling piece on the counter. ‘I won’t trouble you to look at the tooth,’ she said. ‘There is the money. Let me have the laudanum, if you please.’
The doctor put the two-shilling piece back again in her hand. ‘I don’t sell laudanum to strangers,’ he answered. ‘If you are in any distress of body or mind, that is another matter. I shall be glad to help you.’
She put the money back in her pocket. ‘You can’t help me,’ she said, as quietly as ever. ‘Good morning.’
With that, she opened the surgery door to go out again into the street. So far, I had not spoken а word on my side. I had stood with the candle in my hand (not knowing I was holding it) – with my eyes fixed on her, with my mind fixed on her like а man bewitched. Her looks betrayed, even more plainly than her words, her resolution, in one way or another, to destroy herself. When she opened the door, in my alarm at what might happen I found the use of my tongue.
‘Stop!’ I cried out. ‘Wait for me. I want to speak to you before you go away.’ She lifted her eyes with а look of careless surprise and а mocking smile on her lips.
‘What can you have to say to me?’ She stopped, and laughed to herself. ‘Why not?’ she said. ‘I have got nothing to do, and nowhere to go.’ She turned back а step, and nodded to me. ‘You’re а strange man – I think I’ll humor you – I’ll wait outside.’ The door of the surgery closed on her. She was gone.
I am ashamed to own what happened next. The only excuse for me is that I was really and truly а man bewitched. I turned me round to follow her out, without once thinking of my mother. The doctor stopped me.
‘Don’t forget the medicine,’ he said. ‘And if you will take my advice, don’t trouble yourself about that woman. Rouse up the constable. It’s his business to look after her – not yours.’
I held out my hand for the medicine in silence: I was afraid I should fail in respect if I trusted myself to answer him. He must have seen, as I saw, that she wanted the laudanum to poison herself. He had, to my mind, taken а very heartless view of the matter. I just thanked him when he gave me the medicine – and went out.
She was waiting for me as she had promised; walking slowly to and fro – а tall, graceful, solitary figure in the bright moonbeams. They shed over her fair complexion, her bright golden hair, her large gray eyes, just the light that suited them best. She looked hardly mortal when she first turned to speak to me.
‘Well?’ she said. ‘And what do you want?’
In spite of my pride, or my shyness, or my better sense – whichever it might be – all my heart went out to her in а moment. I caught hold of her by the hands, and owned what was in my thoughts, as freely as if I had known her for half а lifetime.
‘You mean to destroy yourself,’ I said. ‘And I mean to prevent you from doing it. If I follow you about all night, I’ll prevent you