the queen of hearts-第23部分

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a　relief　to　him；　therefore；　when　Rebecca　began　to　lay　the　cloth。

She　laid　the　cloth；　brought　in　the　bread…tray；　and　cut　a　slice
from　the　loaf　for　her　husband；　then　returned　to　the　kitchen。　At
that　moment；　Isaac；　still　anxiously　watching　his　mother；　was
startled　by　seeing　the　same　ghastly　change　pass　over　her　face
which　had　altered　it　so　awfully　on　the　morning　when　Rebecca　and
she　first　met。　Before　he　could　say　a　word；　she　whispered；　with　a
look　of　horror：

〃Take　me　backhome；　home　again；　Isaac。　Come　with　me；　and　never
go　back　again。〃

He　was　afraid　to　ask　for　an　explanation；　he　could　only　sign　to
her　to　be　silent；　and　help　her　quickly　to　the　door。　As　they
passed　the　breadtray　on　the　table　she　stopped　and　pointed　to　it。

〃Did　you　see　what　your　wife　cut　your　bread　with？〃　she　asked；　in　a
low　whisper。

〃No；　motherI　was　not　noticingwhat　was　it？〃

〃Look！〃

He　did　look。　A　new　clasp…knife　with　a　buckhorn　handle　lay　with
the　loaf　in　the　bread…tray。　He　stretched　out　his　hand
shudderingly　to　possess　himself　of　it；　but；　at　the　same　time；
there　was　a　noise　in　the　kitchen；　and　his　mother　caught　at　his
arm。

〃The　knife　of　the　dream！　Isaac；　I'm　faint　with　fear。　Take　me　away
before　she　comes　back。〃

He　was　hardly　able　to　support　her。　The　visible；　tangible　reality
of　the　knife　struck　him　with　a　panic；　and　utterly　destroyed　any
faint　doubts　that　he　might　have　entertained　up　to　this　time　in
relation　to　the　mysterious　dream…warning　of　nearly　eight　years
before。　By　a　last　desperate　effort；　he　summoned　self…possession
enough　to　help　his　mother　out　of　the　houseso　quietly　that　the
〃Dream…woman〃　（he　thought　of　her　by　that　name　now）　did　not　hear
them　departing　from　the　kitchen。

〃Don't　go　back；　Isaacdon't　go　back！〃　implored　Mrs。　Scatchard；
as　he　turned　to　go　away；　after　seeing　her　safely　seated　again　in
her　own　room。

〃I　must　get　the　knife；〃　he　answered；　under　his　breath。　His　mother
tried　to　stop　him　again；　but　he　hurried　out　without　another　word。

On　his　return　he　found　that　his　wife　had　discovered　their　secret
departure　from　the　house。　She　had　been　drinking；　and　was　in　a
fury　of　passion。　The　dinner　in　the　kitchen　was　flung　under　the
grate；　the　cloth　was　off　the　parlor　table。　Where　was　the　knife？

Unwisely；　he　asked　for　it。　She　was　only　too　glad　of　the
opportunity　of　irritating　him　which　the　request　afforded　her。　〃He
wanted　the　knife；　did　he？　Could　he　give　her　a　reason　why？　No！
Then　he　should　not　have　itnot　if　he　went　down　on　his　knees　to
ask　for　it。〃　Further　recriminations　elicited　the　fact　that　she
had　bought　it　a　bargain；　and　that　she　considered　it　her　own
especial　property。　Isaac　saw　the　uselessness　of　attempting　to　get
the　knife　by　fair　means；　and　determined　to　search　for　it；　later
in　the　day；　in　secret。　The　search　was　unsuccessful。　Night　came
on；　and　he　left　the　house　to　walk　about　the　streets。　He　was
afraid　now　to　sleep　in　the　same　room　with　her。

Three　weeks　passed。　Still　sullenly　enraged　with　him；　she　would
not　give　up　the　knife；　and　still　that　fear　of　sleeping　in　the
same　room　with　her　possessed　him。　He　walked　about　at　night；　or
dozed　in　the　parlor；　or　sat　watching　by　his　mother's　bedside。
Before　the　expiration　of　the　first　week　in　the　new　month　his
mother　died。　It　wanted　then　but　ten　days　of　her　son's　birthday。
She　had　longed　to　live　till　that　anniversary。　Isaac　was　present
at　her　death；　and　her　last　words　in　this　world　were　addressed　to
him：

〃Don't　go　back；　my　son；　don't　go　back！〃　He　was　obliged　to　go
back；　if　it　were　only　to　watch　his　wife。　Exasperated　to　the　last
degree　by　his　distrust　of　her；　she　had　revengefully　sought　to　add
a　sting　to　his　grief；　during　the　last　days　of　his　mother's
illness；　by　declaring　that　she　would　assert　her　right　to　attend
the　funeral。　In　spite　of　any　thing　he　could　do　or　say；　she　held
with　wicked　pertinacity　to　her　word；　and　on　the　day　appointed　for
the　burial　forced　herselfinflamed　and　shameless　with
drinkinto　her　husband's　presence；　and　declared　that　she　would
walk　in　the　funeral　procession　to　his　mother's　grave。

This　last　worst　outrage；　accompanied　by　all　that　was　most
insulting　in　word　and　look；　maddened　him　for　the　moment。　He
struck　her。

The　instant　the　blow　was　dealt　he　repented　it。　She　crouched　down；
silent；　in　a　corner　of　the　room；　and　eyed　him　steadily；　it　was　a
look　that　cooled　his　hot　blood　and　made　him　tremble。　But　there
was　no　time　now　to　think　of　a　means　of　making　atonement。　Nothing
remained　but　to　risk　the　worst　till　the　funeral　was　over。　There
was　but　one　way　of　making　sure　of　her。　He　locked　her　into　her
bedroom。

When　he　came　back　some　hours　after；　he　found　her　sitting；　very
much　altered　in　look　and　bearing；　by　the　bedside；　with　a　bundle
on　her　lap。　She　rose；　and　faced　him　quietly；　and　spoke　with　a
strange　stillness　in　her　voice；　a　strange　repose　in　her　eyes；　a
strange　composure　in　her　manner。

〃No　man　has　ever　struck　me　twice；〃　she　said；　〃and　my　husband
shall　have　no　second　opportunity。　Set　the　door　open　and　let　me
go。　From　this　day　forth　we　see　each　other　no　more。〃

Before　he　could　answer　she　passed　him　and　left　the　room。　He　saw
her　walk　away　up　the　street。

Would　she　return？

All　that　night　he　watched　and　waited；　but　no　footstep　came　near
the　house。　The　next　night；　overpowered　by　fatigue；　he　lay　down　in
bed　in　his　clothes；　with　the　door　locked；　the　key　on　the　table；
and　the　candle　burning。　His　slumber　was　not　disturbed。　The　third
night；　the　fourth；　the　fifth；　the　sixth　passed；　and　nothing
happened。

He　lay　down　on　the　seventh；　still　in　his　clothes；　still　with　the
door　locked；　the　key　on　the　table；　and　the　candle　burning；　but
easier　in　his　mind。

Easier　in　his　mind；　and　in　perfect　health　of　body　when　he　fell
off　to　sleep。　But　his　rest　was　disturbed。　He　woke　twice　without
any　sensation　of　uneasiness。　But　the　third　time　it　was　that
never…to…be…forgotten　shivering　of　the　night　at　the　lonely　inn；
that　dreadful　sinking　pain　at　the　heart；　which　once　more　aroused
him　in　an　instant。

His　eyes　opened　toward　the　left…hand　side　of　the　bed；　and　there
stoodThe　Dream…Woman　again？　No！　His　wife；　the　living　reality；
with　the　dream…specter's　face；　in　the　dream…specter's　attitude；
the　fair　arm　up；　the　knife　clasped　in　the　delicate　white　hand。

He　sprang　upon　her　almost　at　the　instant　of　seeing　her；　and　yet
not　quickly　enough　to　prevent　her　from　hiding　the　knife。　Without
a　word　from　himwithout　a　cry　from　herhe　pinioned　her　in　a
chair。　With　one　hand　he　felt　up　her　sleeve；　and　there；　where　the
Dream…Woman　had　hidden　the　knife；　his　wife　had　hidden　itthe
knife　with　the　buckhorn　handle；　that　looked　like　new。

In　the　despair　of　that　fearful　moment　his　brain　was　steady；　his
heart　was　calm。　He　looked　at　her　fixedly　with　the　knife　in　his
hand；　and　said　these　last　words：

〃You　told　me　we　should　see　each　other　no　more；　and　you　have　come
back。　It　is　my　turn　now　to　go；　and　to　go　forever。　I　say　that　we
shall　see　each　other　no　more；　and　my　word　shall　not　be　broken。〃

He　left　her；　and　set　forth　into　the　night。　There　was　a　bleak　wind
abroad；　and　the　smell　of　recent　rain　was　in　the　air。　The　distant
church…clocks　chimed　the　quarter　as　he　walked　rapidly　beyond　the
last　houses　in　the　suburb。　He　asked　the　first　policeman　he　met
what　hour　that　was　of　which　the　quarter　past　had　just　struck。

The　man　referred　sleepily　to　his　watch；　and　answered；　〃Two
o'clock。〃　Two　in　the　morning。　What　day　of　the　month　was　this　day
that　had　just　begun？　He　reckoned　it　up　from　the　date　of　his
mother's　funeral。　The　fatal　parallel　was　complete：　it　was　his
birthday！

Had　he　escaped　the　mortal　peril　which　his　dream　foretold？　or　had
he　only　received　a　second　warning？

As　that　ominous　doubt　forced　itself　on　his　mind；　he　stopped；
reflected；　and　turned　back　again　toward　the　city。　He　was　still
resolute　to　hold　to　his　word；　and　never　to　let　her　see　him　more；
but　there　was　a　thought　now　in　his　mind　of　having　her　watched　and
followed。　The　knife　was　in　his　possession；　the　world　was　b　efore
him；　but　a　new　distrust　of　hera　vague；　unspeakable；
superstitious　dread　had　overcome　him。

〃I　must　know　where　she　goes；　now　she　thinks　I　have　left　her；〃　he
said　to　himself；　as　he　stole　back　wearily　to　the　precincts　of　his
house。

It　was　still　dark。　He　had　left　the　candle　burning　in　the
bedchamber；　but　when　he　looked　up　to　the　window　of　the　room　now
there　was　no　light　in　it。　He　crept　cautiously　to　the　house　door。
On　going　away；　he　remembered　to　have　closed　it；　on　trying　it　now；
he　found　it　open。

He　waited　outside；　never　losing　sight　of　the　house；　till
daylight。　Then　he　ventured　indoorslistened；　and　heard
nothinglooked　into　kitchen；　scullery；　parlor　and　found　nothing；
went　up　at　last　into　the　bedroomit　was　empty。　A　picklock　lay　on
the　floor　betraying　how　she　had　gained　entrance　in　the　night；　and
that　was　the　only　trace　of　her。

Whither　had　she　gone？　That　no　mortal　tongue　could　tell　him。　The
darkness　had　covered　her　flight；　and　when　the　day　broke；　no　man
could　say　where　the　light　found　her。

Before　leaving　the　house　and　the　town　forever；　he　gave
instructions　to　a　friend　and　neighbor　to　sell　his　furniture　for
anything　that　it　would　fetch；　and　apply　the　proceeds　to　employing
the　police　to　trace　her。　The　directions　were　honestly　followed；
and　the　money　was　all　spent；　but　the　inquiries　led　to　nothing。
The　picklock　on　the　bedroom　floor　remained　the　one　last　useless
trace　of　the　Dream…Woman。


At　this　point　of　the　narrative　the　landlord　paused；　and；
turning　toward　the　window　of　the　room　in　which　we　were　sitting；
looked　in　the　direction　of　the　stable…yard。

〃So　far；〃　he　said；　〃I　tell　you　what　was　told　to　me。　The　little
that　remains　to　be　added　lies　within　my　own　experience。　Between
two　and　three　months　after　the　events　I　have　just　been　relating；
Isaac　Scatchard　came　to　me；　withered　and　old…looking　before　his
time；　just　as　you　saw　him　to…day。　He　had　his　testimonials　to
character　with　him；　and　he　asked　for　employment　here。　Knowing
that　my　wife　and　he　were　distantly　related；　I　gave　him　a　trial　in
consideration　of　that　relationship；　and　liked　him　in　spite　of　his
queer　habits。　He　is　as　sober；　honest；　and　willing　a　man　as　there
is　in　England。　As　for　his　restlessness　at　night；　and　his　sleeping
away