This is the story of what a woman’s patience can endure, and what a man’s resolution can achieve. As the judge might once have heard it, so the reader shall hear it now. No circumstance of importance, from the beginning to the end of the disclosure, shall be related on unconfirmed evidence.
The story here presented will be told by more than one pen, as the story of a crime against the laws is told in Court by more than one witness —with the same object in both cases, to present the truth always in its most direct and most intelligible aspect .
Let Walter Hartright—teacher of drawing, aged twentyeight years—be heard first.
THE STORY BEGUN BY WALTER HARTRIGHT
(Of Clement’s Inn, Teacher of Drawing)
It was the last day of July. The long, hot summer was drawing to a close; and we Londoners were beginning to think of the cloud-shadows on the cornfields, and the autumn breezes on the seashore.
For my own poor part, the fading summer left me out of health, out of spirits, and, if the truth must be told, out of money as well. During the past year I had lived beyond my means, and I was now limited to the prospect of spending the autumn economically between my mother’s cottage at Hampstead and my own chambers in town.
The evening, on which this story begins, I was to spend with my mother and my sister. I usually stayed with them once or twice each week. On this occasion, when I arrived and rang the bell, the door was suddenly opened violently, and my Italian friend, Professor Pesca, appeared, and darted out happily to receive me.
I had first met my Italian friend at a certain great house where he taught his own language and I taught drawing. All I then knew of the history of his life was that he had once held a situation in the University of Padua; that he had left Italy for political reasons; and that he had been for many years respectably established in London as a teacher of languages.
We met again, by accident, while bathing at Brighton. On that occasion, I saved him from drowning, and since then, he has sworn to devote himself to one day providing me some greatly valuable service. And, indeed, the source of Pesca’s excitement,that night at my mother’s home, was that he believed such an opportunity had finally come.
The short of it was he had found me a teaching position at the home of a wealthy family in Cumberland. The name of the home was Limmeridge House, which was occupied by the Fairlie family. I was to give sketching lessons to two young ladies over the course of four months, as well as frame old paintings for the master of the house. I was to take up residence within the home for the period. I cannot say why exactly, but my reaction to this news was not one of excitement. However,in order not to offend my friend, I decided to go ahead with the position. Three days later, I sent a letter expressing my interest, along with several letters of recommendation .
The following day I received a reply from Mr. Fairlie,asking me to begin right away. I made my arrangements for leaving London early the next morning, and then went to say goodbye to my mother and sister in the evening. It was on my way back from their home that something happened which would change the course of my life.
It was nearly midnight, and I was not eager to return to town. I wanted a good, long walk, so I decided to take the longer route back.
I was strolling along the lonely highroad— idly wondering what the Cumberland young ladies would look like—when, in one moment, every drop of blood in my body was brought to a stop by the touch of a hand laid gently and suddenly on my shoulder from behind me.
I turned with my fingers gripped firmly round the handle of my walking stick. There, in the middle of the road, stood the figure of a solitary woman, dressed from head to foot in white garments , her face bent in grave inquiry on mine, her hand pointing to the dark cloud over London.
“Is that the road to London?” she asked.
I looked attentively at her. All I could discern distinctly by the moonlight was a colorless, youthful face; large, grave eyes; nervous, uncertain lips; and light hair of a pale brown and yellow color. There was nothing wild in her manner. She seemed sorrowful and a little touched by suspicion . The voice had something curiously still and mechanical in its tones, and the utterance was remarkably rapid. What sort of a woman she was, and how she came to be out alone in the highroad after midnight, I altogether failed to guess.
“Did you hear me?” she asked, still quietly and rapidly. “I asked if that was the way to London.”
“Yes,” I replied, “that is the way. I apologize for my silence.I was rather startled by your sudden appearance.”
“I’ve met with an accident. You don’t suspect me of doing wrong, do you?”
She shrank back from me several paces. I did my best to reassure her.
“I don’t suspect you of anything,” I said, “I only wish to be of assistance to you, if I can.”
“You’re very kind. I don’t know London well. Could you show me where to get a carriage? I have a friend in London who’ll be glad to receive me. But you must promise not to interfere with my going. Do you promise?”
What could I do? Here was a stranger helplessly at my mercy.
“Will you promise?” she repeated.
“Sure.”
We set our faces towards London, and walked on together—I, and this woman, about whom I knew nothing. It was like a dream.
“I want to ask you something,” she said suddenly. “Do you know many people of the rank of baronet ?”
“Some,” I said after a moment’s silence. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I hope, for my own sake, there’s one baronet that you don’t know.”
“What’s his name?”
“Don’t ask me. Don’t make me talk of it,” she answered.“I’ve been cruelly used and cruelly wronged. Let’s not talk any longer.”
We moved forward again at a quick pace; and for half an hour not a word was spoken. Then she broke the silence.
“Do you live in London?” she said.
“Yes, but tomorrow I’m going up to Cumberland to live for a while.”
“Cumberland!” she repeated the word tenderly. “Ah! I wish I were going there too. I was once happy in Cumberland.”
“Born there?” I asked.
“No,” she answered. “I was born in Hampshire, but I once went to school for a little while in Cumberland. It’s Limmeridge Village, and Limmeridge House, I should like to see again.”
I stopped suddenly. The chance reference to Mr. Fairlie’s place of residence on the lips of my strange companion staggered me with astonishment.
“Did you hear anybody calling after us?” she suddenly asked, frightened by my stillness.
“No. I was only struck by the name of Limmeridge House.I heard it mentioned by some Cumberland people a few days before.”
“Ah! Not my people. Mrs. Fairlie is dead; and her husband is dead; and their little girl may be married and gone away by this time. I can’t say who lives at Limmeridge now. If any more are left there of that name, I only know I love them for Mrs.Fairlie’s sake.”
She seemed about to say more; but while she was speaking,we came within view of a cab.
“Oh! Please, hail it! I’m most anxious to be on my way!”she pleaded.
I hailed the cab, and as it drove up beside us, my companion wasted no time in climbing aboard. I entreated her to let me see her safely to her destination .
“No, no, no,” she said vehemently . “I’m quite safe, and quite happy now. Thank you! Thank you!”
My hand was on the cab door. She caught it in hers, kissed it, and pushed it away. The cab drove off at the same moment and melted into the black shadows on the road. The woman in white was gone.
Five minutes or more had passed. I was still on the same side of the road, contemplating what had just happened, when I was abruptly recalled to myself by the sound of rapidly approaching wheels close behind me.
I stopped to look round. On the opposite side of the way, a short distance below me, a policeman was strolling along in the direction of the Regent’s Park. A carriage, driven by two men,appeared and approached him.
“Officer!” cried one of the men. “Have you seen a woman pass this way?”
“What sort of woman, sir?”
“A woman in white—”
“I haven’t seen her, sir.”
“If you or any of your men meet the woman, stop her, and send her in careful keeping to that address. I’ll pay all expenses,and a fair reward into the bargain.”
The man in the carriage handed the policeman a card.
“What has she done?” asked the officer.
“Done! She has escaped from my insane asylum. Don’t forget—a woman in white. Drive on.”
“She has escaped from my insane asylum!” I repeated in my thoughts.
The woman had not given me the impression of being out of her mind. What had I done? Had I assisted someone wrongly kept prisoner to escape, or had I cast loose a dangerous creature ?
This thought rendered me sleepless all night. I wondered if she had been caught? Had she come to any harm? Where was she now? Would I ever see her again?
resolution /ˌrezəˈlju:ʃən/ n. 坚定,决心
circumstance /ˈsɜ:kəmstəns/ n. 详情,境况
unconfirmed /ˌʌnkənˈfɜ:md/ adj. 未经认可的,未经证实的
witness /ˈwɪtnɪs/ n. 证人,目击者
intelligible /ɪnˈtelɪdʒəbl/ adj. 可理解的
aspect /ˈæspekt/ n. (问题等的)方面
breeze /bri:z/ n. 微风
prospect /ˈprɒspekt/ n. 前景,前途;期望
economically /ˌi:kəˈnɒmɪkəlɪ/ adv. 经济地;节俭地
chamber /ˈtʃeɪmbə/ n. 室,房间
dart /dɑ:t/ vi. 飞奔
respectably /rɪˈspektəblɪ/ adv. 体面地
established /ɪˈstæblɪʃt/ adj. 著名的;已获确认的
swear /sweə/ vi. 发誓
opportunity /ˌɒpəˈtju:nətɪ/ n. 机会,时机
sketch /sketʃ/ vi. 画素描
frame /freɪm/ vt. 设计,制定;装框架
residence /ˈrezɪdəns/ n. 居住;住处
offend /əˈfend/ vt. 得罪;使……不愉快
recommendation /ˌrekəmenˈdeɪʃən/ n. 推荐,介绍(信)
stroll /strəʊl/ vi. 徘徊,漫游
idly /ˈaɪdlɪ/ adv. 空闲地
grip /ɡrɪp/ vi. 紧握,抓住
solitary /ˈsɒlɪtərɪ/ adj. 孤独的
garment /ˈɡɑ:mənt/ n. 衣服,外衣
inquiry /ɪnˈkwaɪərɪ/ n. 质询;调查
discern /dɪˈsɜ:n/ vt. 辨别;看清楚
distinctly /dɪsˈtɪŋktlɪ/ adv. 清楚地,明显地
moonlight /ˈmu:nlaɪt/ n. 月光
suspicion /səˈspɪʃən/ n. 猜疑,怀疑
mechanical /mɪˈkænɪkəl/ adj. 机械的;机械似的,呆板的
utterance /ˈʌtərəns/ n. 说话,说话的方式
remarkably /rɪˈmɑ:kəblɪ/ adv. 非常地,显著地,引人注目地
startle /ˈstɑ:tl/ vt. 使惊吓;使大吃一惊
shrink /ʃrɪŋk/ vi. 收缩;缩小;退缩,畏缩
interfere /ˌɪntəˈfɪə/ vi. 干涉;妨碍
baronet /ˈbærənɪt/ n. 从男爵,准男爵
stagger /ˈstæɡə/ vt. 摇晃;蹒跚
hail /heɪl/ vt. 招呼
destination /ˌdestɪˈneɪʃən/ n. 目的地
vehemently /ˈvi:ɪməntlɪ/ adv. 激烈地,(感情)强烈地
contemplate /ˈkɒntempleɪt/ vt. 沉思
abruptly /əˈbrʌptlɪ/ adv. 突然地;唐突地
approach /əˈprəʊtʃ/ vi. 接近,逼近,走进
insane /ɪnˈseɪn/ adj. 精神失常的;精神病的
assist /əˈsɪst/ vt. 援助,帮助
creature /ˈkri:tʃə/ n. 人
render /ˈrendə/ vt. 致使