Chapter 57


chapter 57meanwhile angel clare had walked automatically along the way by which he had come, and, entering his hotel, sat down over the breakfast, staring at nothingness. he went on eating and drinking unconsciously till on a sudden he demanded his bill; having paid which he took his dressing-bag in his hand, the only luggage he had brought with him, and went out.

    at the moment of his departure a telegram was handed to him a few words from his mother, stating that they were glad to know his address, and informing him that his brother cuthbert had proposed to and been accepted by mercy chant.

    clare crumpled up the paper, and followed the route to the station; reaching it, he found that there would be no train leaving for an hour and more. he sat down to wait, and having waited a quarter of an hour felt that he could wait there no longer. broken in heart and numbed, he had nothing to hurry for; but he wished to get out of a town which had been the scene of such an experience, and turned to walk to the first station onward, and let the train pick him up there.

    the highway that he followed was open, and at a little distance dipped into a valley, across which it could be seen running from edge to edge. he had traversed the greater part of this depression, and was climbing the western acclivity, when, pausing for breath, he unconsciously looked back. why he did so he could not say, but something seemed to impel him to the act. the tape-like surface of the road diminished in his rear as far as he could see, and as he gazed a moving spot intruded on the white vacuity of its perspective.

    it was a human figure running. clare waited, with a dim sense that somebody was trying to overtake him.

    the form descending the incline was a woman's, yet so entirely was his mind blinded to the idea of his wife's following him that even when she came nearer he did not recognize her under the totally changed attire in which he now beheld her. it was not till she was quite close that he could believe her to be tess.

    `i saw you - turn away from the station - just before i got there - and i have been following you all this way!'

    she was so pale, so breathless, so quivering in every muscle, that he did not ask her a single question, but seizing her hand, and pulling it within his arm, he led her along. to avoid meeting any possible wayfarers he left the high road, and took a footpath under some fir-trees. when they were deep among the moaning boughs he stopped and looked at her inquiringly.

    `angel,' she said, as if waiting for this, `do you know what i have been running after you for? to tell you that i have killed him!' a pitiful white smile lit her face as she spoke.

    `what!' said he, thinking from the strangeness of her manner that she was in some delirium.

    `i have done it - i don't know how,' she continued. `still, i owed it to you, and to myself, angel. i feared long ago, when i struck him on the mouth with my glove, that i might do it some day for the trap he set for me in my simple youth, and his wrong to you through me. he has come between us and ruined us, and now he can never do it any more. i never loved him at all, angel, as i loved you. you know it, don't you? you believe it? you didn't come back to me, and i was obliged to go back to him. why did you go away - why did you - when i loved you so? i can't think why you did it. but i don't blame you; only, angel, will you forgive me my sin against you, now i have killed him? i thought as i ran along that you would be sure to forgive me now i have done that. it came to me as a shining light that i should get you back that way. i could not bear the loss of you any longer - you don't know how entirely i was unable to bear your not loving me! say you do now, dear, dear husband; say you do, now i have killed him!'

    `i do love you, tess - o, i do - it is all come back!' he said, tightening his arms round her with fervid pressure. `but how do you mean - you have killed him?'

    `i mean that i have,' she murmured in a reverie.

    `what, bodily? is he dead?'

    `yes. he heard me crying about you, and he bitterly taunted me; and called you by a foul name; and then i did it. my heart could not bear it. he had nagged me about you before. and then i dressed myself and came away to find you.'

    by degrees he was inclined to believe that she had faintly attempted, at least, what she said she had done; and his horror at her impulse was mixed with amazement at the strength of her affection for himself, and at the strangeness of its quality, which had apparently extinguished her moral sense altogether. unable to realize the gravity of her conduct she seemed at last content; and he looked at her as she lay upon his shoulder, weeping with happiness, and wondered what obscure strain in the d'urberville blood had led to this aberration - if it were an aberration. there momentarily flashed through his mind that the family tradition of the coach and murder might have arisen because the d'urbervilles had been known to do these things. as well as his confused and excited ideas could reason, he supposed that in the moment of mad grief of which she spoke her mind had lost its balance, and plunged her into this abyss.

    it was very terrible if true; if a temporary hallucination, sad. but, anyhow, here was this deserted wife of his, this passionately fond woman, clinging to him without a suspicion that he would be anything to her but a protector. he saw that for him to be otherwise was not, in her mind, within the region of the possible. tenderness was absolutely dominant in clare at last. he kissed her endlessly with his white lips, and held her hand, and said `i will not desert you! i will protect you by every means in my power, dearest love, whatever you may have done or not have done!'

    they then walked on under the trees, tess turning her head every now and then to look at him. worn and unhandsome as he had become, it was plain that she did not discern the least fault in his appearance. to her he was, as of old, all that was perfection, personally and mentally. he was still her antinous, her apollo even; his sickly face was beautiful as the morning to her affectionate regard on this day no less than when she first beheld him; for was it not the face of the one man on earth who had loved her purely, and who had believed in her as pure.

    with an instinct as to possibilities he did not now, as he had intended, make for the first station beyond the town, but plunged still farther under the firs, which here abounded for miles. each clasping the other round the waist they promenaded over the dry bed of fir-needles, thrown into a vague intoxicating atmosphere at the consciousness of being together at last, with no living soul between them; ignoring that there was a corpse. thus they proceeded for several miles till tess, arousing herself, looked about her, and said, timidly--

    `are we going anywhere in particular?'

    `i don't know, dearest. why?'

    `i don't know.'

    `well, we might walk a few miles further, and when it is evening find lodgings somewhere or other - in a lonely cottage, perhaps. can you walk well, tessy?'

    `o yes! i could walk for ever and ever with your arm round me!' upon the whole it seemed a good thing to do. thereupon they quickened their pace, avoiding high roads, and following obscure paths tending more or less northward. but there was an unpractical vagueness in their movements throughout the day; neither one of them seemed to consider any question of effectual escape, disguise, or long concealment. their every idea was temporary and unforefending, like the plans of two children.

    at mid-day they drew near to a roadside inn, and tess would have entered it with him to get something to eat, but he persuaded her to remain among the trees and bushes of this half-woodland, half-moorland part of the country, till he should come back. her clothes were of recent fashion; even the ivory-handled parasol that she carried was of a shape unknown in the retired spot to which they had now wandered; and the cut of such articles would have attracted attention in the settle of a tavern. he soon returned, with food enough for half-a-dozen people and two bottles of wine - enough to last them for a day or more, should any emergency arise.

    they sat down upon some dead boughs and shared their meal. between one and two o'clock they packed up the remainder and went on again.

    `i feel strong enough to walk any distance,' said she.

    `i think we may as well steer in a general way towards the interior of the country, where we can hide for a time, and are less likely to be looked for than anywhere near the coast,' clare remarked. `later on, when they have forgotten us, we can make for some port.'

    she made no reply to this beyond that of grasping him more tightly, and straight inland they went. though the season was an english may the weather was serenely bright, and during the afternoon it was quite warm. through the latter miles of their walk their footpath had taken them into the depths of the new forest, and towards evening, turning the corner of a lane, they perceived behind a brook and bridge a large board on which was painted in white letters, `this desirable mansion to be let furnished'; particulars following, with directions to apply to some london agents. passing through the gate they could see the house, an old brick building of regular design and large accommodation.

    `i know it,' said clare. `it is bramshurst court. you can see that it is shut up, and grass is growing on the drive.'

    `some of the windows are open,' said tess.

    `just to air the rooms, i suppose.'

    `all these rooms empty, and we without a roof to our heads!'

    `you are getting tired, my tess!' he said. `we'll stop soon.' and kissing her sad mouth he again led her onwards.

    he was growing weary likewise, for they had wandered a dozen or fifteen miles, and it became necessary to consider what they should do for rest. they looked from afar at isolated cottages and little inns, and were inclined to approach one of the latter, when their hearts failed them, and they sheered off. at length their gait dragged, and they stood still.

    `could we sleep under the trees?' she asked.

    he thought the season insufficiently advanced.

    `i have been thinking of that empty mansion we passed,' he said. `let us go back towards it again.'

    they retraced their steps, but it was half an hour before they stood without the entrance-gate as earlier. he then requested her to stay where she was, whilst he went to see who was within.

    she sat down among the bushes within the gate, and clare crept towards the house. his absence lasted some considerable time, and when he returned tess was wildly anxious, not for herself, but for him. he had found out from a boy that there was only an old woman in charge as caretaker, and she only came there on fine days, from the hamlet near, to open and shut the windows. she would come to shut them at sunset. `now, we can get in through one of the lower windows, and rest there,' said he.

    under his escort she went tardily forward to the main front, whose shuttered windows, like sightless eyeballs, excluded the possibility of watchers. the door was reached a few steps further, and one of the windows beside it was open. clare clambered in, and pulled tess in after him.

    except the hall the rooms were all in darkness, and they ascended the staircase. up here also the shutters were tightly closed, the ventilation being perfunctorily done, for this day at least, by opening the hall-window in front and an upper window behind. clare unlatched the door of a large chamber, felt his way across it, and parted the shutters to the width of two or three inches. a shaft of dazzling sunlight glanced into the room, revealing heavy, old-fashioned furniture, crimson damask hangings, and an enormous four-post bedstead, along the head of which were carved running figures, apparently atalanta's race.

    `rest at last!' said he, setting down his bag and the parcel of viands.

    they remained in great quietness till the caretaker should have come to shut the windows: as a precaution, putting themselves in total darkness by barring the shutters as before, lest the woman should open the door of their chamber for any casual reason. between six and seven o'clock she came, but did not approach the wing they were in. they heard her close the windows, fasten them, lock the door, and go away. then clare again stole a chink of light from the window, and they shared another meal, till by-and-by they were enveloped in the shades of night which they had no candle to disperse.



    克莱尔把电报揉成一团,向火车站走去;到了火车站,才知道还 要等一个多小时火车才会开走。他坐下来等候,他等了一刻钟的时间,就觉得再也等不下去了。他的心已破碎,感觉麻木,再也没有什么要急着去办的事了;但是,他在这个城市里有了这样一番经历和感受,就希望离开这儿;于是他转身向外面的一个车站走去,打算在那儿上火车。













    克莱尔开始慢慢地相信,她至少稍微地动过杀机,想做她刚才说的事;他一面对她的动机感到恐惧,一面又惊讶她对他自己的爱情的力量,惊讶这种奇特的爱情,为了爱情,她竟然完全不顾道德。由于还 没有意识到她的行为的严重性,她似乎终于感到了满足;她伏在他的肩上,高兴地哭着,他看着她,不知道在德贝维尔家族的血统中究竟有什么秘密特点,才导致苔丝这种精神错乱的举动——如果说她只是一种错乱举动的话。他突然在心里想到,之所以会产生关于马车和凶杀的家族传说,大概就是因为知道德贝维尔家里出过这种事情。同时他也按照他混乱的和激动的思想推理,认为苔丝只是在她提到的过度悲伤下一时失去了心理平衡,才陷入这种深渊的。


    “我再也不会离开你了!我最亲爱的人,无论是你杀了人还 是没有杀人,我都要尽我的一切力量保护你!”

    于是他们在树林里往前走,苔丝不时地把头转过去,看一看安琪尔,虽然他疲惫不堪,一脸憔悴,但是她在他的形貌上一点儿也看不出毛病来。在她的眼里,他无论在形体还 是在心灵上,还 是像过去一样完美。他仍然是他的安提诺俄斯①,甚至是她的阿波罗②;他那张满是病容的脸,今天在她爱情的眼光看来,还 是和她第一次见到他的时候一样,像黎明一样美丽,因为在这个世界上,只有这个人的脸曾经纯洁地爱过她,也只有这个人相信她是一个纯洁的人。










    在中午的时候,他们走近了一个路边的客栈,苔丝想和他一起进去吃点儿东西,但是安琪尔劝她还 是留在这儿,呆在这块差不多还 是林地和树林的灌木丛里,等着他回来。她穿的衣服是当时流行的样式,就是她带的那把伞柄是象牙的陽伞,在他们信步来到的这个偏僻地点,也是没有人看见过的东西。这些时兴的物品,一定会引起酒店里坐在长椅上的人的注意。不久安琪尔回来了,带回来的食物够六个人吃,还 有两瓶酒——这些东西,即使有什么意外发生,也够他们支持一两天的了。












    克莱尔认为还 没有到在外面睡觉的节气。





    除了大厅,所有的房间都一团漆黑,他们就上了楼。楼上所有的百叶窗也关得紧紧的,让空气流通的工作敷衍了事,至少那天如此,因为只有前面大厅的一个窗户和楼上后面的一个窗户开着。克莱尔拉开一个大房间的门栓,摸索着走进去,把百叶窗户打开了两三寸。一束炫目的夕陽照进房间,照出了笨重的老式家具,红色的绵缎窗帘,还 有一张有四根柱子的大床;那张大床的床头雕刻着奔跑的人物,显然是赛跑中的阿塔兰塔①。