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84 pages

English

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pubOne.info thank you for your continued support and wish to present you this new edition. FOR reasons of my own, I excused myself from accompanying my stepmother to a dinner-party given in our neighborhood. In my present humor, I preferred being alone - and, as a means of getting through my idle time, I was quite content to be occupied in catching insects.

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Publié par	Pub One Info
Date de parution	23 octobre 2010
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9782819917557
Langue	English

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CHAPTER I
ON THE WAY TO THE RIVER
FOR reasons of my own, I excused myself fromaccompanying my stepmother to a dinner-party given in ourneighborhood. In my present humor, I preferred being alone - and,as a means of getting through my idle time, I was quite content tobe occupied in catching insects.
Provided with a brush and a mixture of rum andtreacle, I went into Fordwitch Wood to set the snare, familiar tohunters of moths, which we call sugaring the trees.
The summer evening was hot and still; the time wasbetween dusk and dark. After ten years of absence in foreign parts,I perceived changes in the outskirts of the wood, which warned menot to enter it too confidently when I might find a difficulty inseeing my way. Remaining among the outermost trees, I painted thetrunks with my treacherous mixture - which allured the insects ofthe night, and stupefied them when they settled on its ranksurface. The snare being set, I waited to see the intoxication ofthe moths.
A time passed, dull and dreary. The mysteriousassemblage of trees was blacker than the blackening sky. Ofmillions of leaves over my head, none pleased my ear, in theairless calm, with their rustling summer song.
The first flying creatures, dimly visible by momentsunder the gloomy sky, were enemies whom I well knew by experience.Many a fine insect specimen have I lost, when the bats were near mein search of their evening meal.
What had happened before, in other woods, happenednow. The first moth that I had snared was a large one, and aspecimen well worth securing. As I stretched out my hand to takeit, the apparition of a flying shadow passed, swift and noiseless,between me and the tree. In less than an instant the insect wassnatched away, when my fingers were within an inch of it. The bathad begun his supper, and the man and the mixture had provided itfor him.
Out of five moths caught, I became the victim ofclever theft in the case of three. The other two, of no great valueas specimens, I was just quick enough to secure. Under othercircumstances, my patience as a collector would still have been amatch for the dexterity of the bats. But on that evening - amemorable evening when I look back at it now - my spirits weredepressed, and I was easily discouraged. My favorite studies of theinsect-world seemed to have lost their value in my estimation. Inthe silence and the darkness I lay down under a tree, and let mymind dwell on myself and on my new life to come.
I am Gerard Roylake, son and only child of the lateGerard Roylake of Trimley Deen.
At twenty-two years of age, my father's death hadplaced me in possession of his large landed property. On my arrivalfrom Germany, only a few hours since, the servants innocently vexedme. When I drove up to the door, I heard them say to each other:"Here is the young Squire." My father used to be called "the oldSquire." I shrank from being reminded of him - not as other sons inmy position might have said, because it renewed my sorrow for hisdeath. There was no sorrow in me to be renewed. It is a shockingconfession to make: my heart remained unmoved when I thought of thefather whom I had lost.
Our mothers have the most sacred of all claims onour gratitude and our love. They have nourished us with theirblood; they have risked their lives in bringing us into the world;they have preserved and guided our helpless infancy with divinepatience and love. What claim equally strong and equally tenderdoes the other parent establish on his offspring? What motive doesthe instinct of his young children find for preferring their fatherbefore any other person who may be a familiar object in their dailylives? They love him - naturally and rightly love him - because helives in their remembrance (if he is a good man) as the first, thebest, the dearest of their friends.
My father was a bad man. He was my mother's worstenemy; and he was never my friend.
The little that I know of the world tells me that itis not the common lot in life of women to marry the object of theirfirst love. A sense of duty had compelled my mother to part withthe man who had won her heart, in the first days of her maidenhood;and my father had discovered it, after his marriage. His insanejealousy foully wronged the truest wife, the most long-sufferingwoman that ever lived. I have no patience to write of it. For tenmiserable years she suffered her martyrdom; she lived through it,dear angel, sweet suffering soul, for my sake. At her death, myfather was able to gratify his hatred of the son whom he had neverbelieved to be his own child. Under pretence of preferring theforeign system of teaching, he sent me to a school in France. Myeducation having been so far completed, I was next transferred to aGerman University. Never again did I see the place of my birth,never did I get a letter from home, until the family lawyer wrotefrom Trimley Deen, requesting me to assume possession of my houseand lands, under the entail.
I should not even have known that my father hadtaken a second wife but for some friend (or enemy) - I neverdiscovered the person - who sent me a newspaper containing anannouncement of the marriage.
When we saw each other for the first time, mystepmother and I met necessarily as strangers. We were elaboratelypolite, and we each made a meritorious effort to appear at ourease. On her side, she found herself confronted by a young man, thenew master of the house, who looked more like a foreigner than anEnglishman - who, when he was congratulated (in view of theapproaching season) on the admirable preservation of his partridgesand pheasants, betrayed an utter want of interest in the subject;and who showed no sense of shame in acknowledging that hisprincipal amusements were derived from reading books, andcollecting insects. How I must have disappointed Mrs. Roylake! andhow considerately she hid from me the effect that I hadproduced!
Turning next to my own impressions, I discovered inmy newly-found relative, a little light-eyed, light-haired, elegantwoman; trim, and bright, and smiling; dressed to perfection, cleverto her fingers' ends, skilled in making herself agreeable - andyet, in spite of these undeniable fascinations, perfectlyincomprehensible to me. After my experience of foreign society, Iwas incapable of understanding the extraordinary importance whichmy stepmother seemed to attach to rank and riches, entirely fortheir own sakes. When she described my unknown neighbors, from oneend of the county to the other, she took it for granted that I mustbe interested in them on account of their titles and theirfortunes. She held me up to my own face, as a kind of idol tomyself, without producing any better reason than might be found inmy inheritance of an income of sixteen thousand pounds. And when Iexpressed (in excusing myself for not accompanying her, uninvited,to the dinner-party) a perfectly rational doubt whether I mightprove to be a welcome guest, Mrs. Roylake held up her delicatelittle hands in unutterable astonishment. "My dear Gerard, in yourposition!" She appeared to think that this settled the question. Isubmitted in silence; the truth is, I was beginning already todespair of my prospects. Kind as my stepmother was, and agreeableas she was, what chance could I see of establishing any truesympathy between us? And, if my neighbors resembled her in theirways of thinking, what hope could I feel of finding new friends inEngland to replace the friends in Germany whom I had lost? Astranger among my own country people, with the every-day habits andevery-day pleasures of my youthful life left behind me - withoutplans or hopes to interest me in looking at the future - it issurely not wonderful that my spirits had sunk to their lowest ebb,and that I even failed to appreciate with sufficient gratitude thefortunate accident of my birth.
Perhaps the journey to England had fatigued me, orperhaps the controlling influences of the dark and silent nightproved irresistible. This only is certain: my solitary meditationsunder the tree ended in sleep.
I was awakened by a light falling on my face.
The moon had risen. In the outward part of the wood,beyond which I had not advanced, the pure and welcome lightpenetrated easily through the scattered trees. I got up and lookedabout me. A path into the wood now showed itself, broader andbetter kept than any path that I could remember in the days of myboyhood. The moon showed it to me plainly, and my curiosity wasaroused.
Following the new track, I found that it led to alittle glade which I at once recognized. The place was changed inone respect only. A neglected water-spring had been cleared ofbrambles and stones, and had been provided with a drinking cup, arustic seat, and a Latin motto on a marble slab. The spring at oncereminded me of a greater body of water - a river, at some littledistance farther on, which ran between the trees on one side, andthe desolate open country on the other. Ascending from the glade, Ifound myself in one of the narrow woodland paths, familiar to me inthe by-gone time.
Unless my memory was at fault, this was the waywhich led to an old water-mill on the river-bank. The image of thegreat turning wheel, which half-frightened half-fascinated me whenI was a child, now presented itself to my memory for the first timeafter an interval of many years. In my present frame of mind, theold scene appealed to me with the irresistible influence of an oldfriend. I said to myself: "Shall I walk on, and try if I can findthe river and the mill again?" This perfectly trifling question todecide presented to me, nevertheless, fantastic difficulties soabsurd that they might have been difficulties encountered in adream. To my own astonishment, I hesitated - walked back againalong the path by which I had advanced - reconsidered my decision,without knowing why - and turning in the opposite direction, set myface towards the river once more. I wonder how my life would haveended, if I had gone the ot