|
I thought, if I had caused the cloud, it was my duty to make an effort to dispel it. They could not every day sit so grim and taciturn; and it was impossible, however ill-tempered they might be, that the universal scowl they wore was their every-day countenance. “It is strange,” I began, in the interval of swallowing one cup of tea and receiving another—“it is strange how custom can mould our tastes and ideas: many could not imagine the existence of happiness in a life of such complete exile from the world as you spend, Mr. Heathcliff; yet, I’ll venture to say, that, surrounded by your family, and with your amiable lady as the presiding genius over your home and heart—” “My amiable lady!” he interrupted, with an almost diabolical sneer on his face. “Where is she—my amiable lady?” “Mrs. Heathcliff, your wife, I mean.” “Well, yes—oh, you would intimate that her spirit has taken the post of ministering angel, and guards the fortunes of Wuthering Heights, even when her body is gone. Is that it?” Perceiving myself in a blunder, I attempted to correct it. I might have seen there was too great a disparity between the ages of the parties to make it likely that they were man and wife. One was about forty: a period of mental vigour at which men seldom cherish the delusion of being married for love by girls: that dream is reserved for the solace of our declining years. The other did not look seventeen. Then it flashed upon me—“The clown at my elbow, who is drinking his tea out of a basin and eating his bread with unwashed hands, may be her husband: Heathcliff junior, of course. Here is the consequence of being buried alive: she has thrown herself away upon that boor from sheer ignorance that better individuals existed! A sad pity—I must beware how I cause her to regret her choice.” The last reflection may seem conceited; it was not. My neighbour struck me as bordering on repulsive; I knew, through experience, that I was tolerably attractive. “Mrs. Heathcliff is my daughter-in-law,” said Heathcliff, corroborating my surmise. He turned, as he spoke, a peculiar look in her direction: a look of hatred; unless he has a most perverse set of facial muscles that will not, like those of other people, interpret the language of his soul. “Ah, certainly—I see now: you are the favoured possessor of the beneficent fairy,” I remarked, turning to my neighbour. This was worse than before: the youth grew crimson, and clenched his fist, with every appearance of a meditated assault. But he seemed to recollect himself presently, and smothered the storm in a brutal curse, muttered on my behalf: which, however, I took care not to notice. “Unhappy in your conjectures, sir,” observed my host; “we neither of us have the privilege of owning your good fairy; her mate is dead. I said she was my daughter-in-law: therefore, she must have married my son.” “And this young man is—” “Not my son, assuredly.” Heathcliff smiled again, as if it were rather too bold a jest to attribute the paternity of that bear to him. “My name is Hareton Earnshaw,” growled the other; “and I’d counsel you to respect it!” “I’ve shown no disrespect,” was my reply, laughing internally at the dignity with which he announced himself. He fixed his eye on me longer than I cared to return the stare, for fear I might be tempted either to box his ears or render my hilarity audible. I began to feel unmistakably out of place in that pleasant family circle. The dismal spiritual atmosphere overcame, and more than neutralised, the glowing physical comforts round me; and I resolved to be cautious how I ventured under those rafters a third time. The business of eating being concluded, and no one uttering a word of sociable conversation, I approached a window to examine the weather. A sorrowful sight I saw: dark night coming down prematurely, and sky and hills mingled in one bitter whirl of wind and suffocating snow. “I don’t think it possible for me to get home now without a guide,” I could not help exclaiming. “The roads will be buried already; and, if they were bare, I could scarcely distinguish a foot in advance.” “Hareton, drive those dozen sheep into the barn porch. They’ll be covered if left in the fold all night: and put a plank before them,” said Heathcliff. “How must I do?” I continued, with rising irritation. There was no reply to my question; and on looking round I saw only Joseph bringing in a pail of porridge for the dogs, and Mrs. Heathcliff leaning over the fire, diverting herself with burning a bundle of matches which had fallen from the chimney-piece as she restored the tea-canister to its place. The former, when he had deposited his burden, took a critical survey of the room, and in cracked tones grated out—“Aw wonder how yah can faishion to stand thear i’ idleness un war, when all on ’ems goan out! Bud yah’re a nowt, and it’s no use talking—yah’ll niver mend o’yer ill ways, but goa raight to t’ divil, like yer mother afore ye!” |
我想如果這片陰雲是因我而起，那就該由我來努力把它驅散。大家不能每天都這麽幹坐著，神情嚴肅，沉默寡言；不管他們脾氣有多壞，也不可能每天人人都麵帶愁容吧。 “讓人不可思議的是，”我喝完了一杯茶，接過第二杯之前的空當兒時，開始說，“讓人不可思議的是風俗習慣塑造了我們的品位和思想——這世上該有多少人無法想象，像您，黑思克裏夫先生，所過的這種完全與世隔絕的生活裏也會有幸福可言。我鬥膽說一句，有您這一家子圍著您，還有您可愛的夫人，可稱得上是您的房舍和身心的持家天才——” “我可愛的夫人！”他打斷我的話，臉上露出了幾近惡魔般的冷笑。“我可愛的夫人——她在哪兒？” “我是說黑思克裏夫太太，您的夫人。” “哦，是啊——哦，你是說即便她的身體已經離去，但是她的靈魂已經擔任了救死扶傷天使的職位，一直守護著呼嘯山莊的這份家業。你是不是這個意思？！” 我察覺到我犯了個大錯，於是就試著來糾正。我早就應該看出他倆年齡懸殊太大，不大像是兩口子。一位大概正值不惑之年——男人在這個期間正是精強力壯，很少會懷有那種姑娘們憧憬愛情而要嫁給他的癡情夢想——這種夢想應留到暮年之時可聊以自慰。另一位看上去頂多剛過二八，正值妙齡。 於是另一個念頭從我心頭閃過——“我胳膊肘旁邊的那個傻小子，正直接端著飯盆喝茶，手也不洗，抓起麵包就啃，或許他才是她的丈夫——黑思克裏夫少爺，應當是這樣。這就是人被活活埋沒在這裏的後果——她純粹是不知道天下還有更好的男人，便把自己白白下嫁給了這麽個鄉巴佬！真是太可惜了——我必須留點神，別讓她因看到我而後悔她之前的選擇。”我的這個想法看似狂妄自負，其實不然。鄰座的那個傻小子對我而言，看起來幾近令人生厭；根據我的閱曆，我自知我的個人魅力還算差強人意。 “黑思克裏夫太太是我的兒媳，”黑思克裏夫的這句話證實了我的猜測。他一邊說著一邊轉過身，朝她坐的方向投去一個奇特的眼神——那眼神中充滿了仇恨；除非他的麵部肌肉生就乖戾至極，否則會像其他人那樣，將不會表露出他的心裏話。 “啊，當然——我這下弄明白了——這位仙女慈眉善目，她的掌櫃原來就是你啊，您可真夠有福的。”我一邊把頭扭過去看我鄰座的這位，一邊說著。 我這麽一說不要緊，情況比剛才變得更糟——小夥子的臉漲得通紅，拳頭緊握，看著像是隨時要拉開一場預謀好的武鬥。但是他好像立刻又恢複了鎮定，嘴裏低聲嘟囔罵了我一句很粗的髒話，算是平息了這場風暴——我裝作沒聽見那句髒話。 “很可惜你猜錯了，先生，”我的房東說道。“我和他都沒這個福分來給這位天仙當掌櫃；她男人已經死了。我說她是我兒媳——也就是說他當然是嫁給我兒子了。” “那這位小夥子是——” “他當然不是我兒子嘍。” 黑思克裏夫又笑了，好像是說把這個小夥子當成是他的兒子，這玩笑未免開得有點大。 “我叫海瑞騰•俄韶，”小夥子吼到，“我警告你，請對我的名姓放尊重點！” “我並沒有不尊重啊，”我答道，他通名報姓時流露出的那個架勢，著實讓我看了心裏感覺好笑。 他眼睛死死盯著我看，直到看得我不願意回敬他了，因為我怕我按捺不住給他一記耳光或者笑出聲來。我開始感覺到在這歡快的一家人中間，我顯得實在是格格不入，這點毫無疑問。精神上的沉悶氣氛不止抵消了，而且壓倒了我周圍物質上的舒適享受；要是我下次敢再來到這個屋簷下的話，定要十分小心謹慎了。 用罷晚餐，大家都不說一句話，甚至連個客套話都隻字不提。我走到窗戶跟前看看天氣如何。我看到的是一派令人傷感的景象——黑夜提前降臨，寒風淒苦，大雪令人窒息，天空和群山被風雪攪作一團。 “我想現在要是沒人給我帶路，我怕是回不去了，”我禁不住大聲叫道。“那些路早被雪埋住了；即使沒被雪埋住，我也很難分清該往哪裏邁腿啊。” “海瑞騰，把這十來隻羊趕到穀倉門廊去。今晚要是把他們丟到羊圈裏的話，需要給他們身上苫上點東西；然後再在前麵放塊木板，”黑思克裏夫說道。 “我該怎麽辦？”我接著說，人開始變得有些焦躁不安了。 沒人回答我的問題；環顧四周，我隻看到周思福拎了一桶粥進來，準備給狗喂食。黑思克裏夫太太俯身麵對著火，手裏捏著一把火柴在那兒點著玩，剛才她把茶葉罐放回原處時，火柴從煙囪旁邊掉落下來。周思福放下粥桶，沒事找事似地把屋子巡視了一遍，扯著沙啞的嗓子對我叫喊道：“人都散啦，你做麽還幹幹立在那噠，繼續胡鬧！瞧你那慫樣，跟你說再多都不抵事——一輩都改不了的壞毛病，你還不如直接去見鬼，去找你那死去的娘吧！” |
