Jane Austen 8 страница

 

There was so much attachment to Captain Wentworth in all this,

and such a bewitching charm in a degree of hospitality so uncommon,

so unlike the usual style of give-and-take invitations, and dinners

of formality and display, that Anne felt her spirits not likely to be

benefited by an increasing acquaintance among his brother-officers.

"These would have been all my friends," was her thought;

and she had to struggle against a great tendency to lowness.

 

On quitting the Cobb, they all went in-doors with their new friends,

and found rooms so small as none but those who invite from the heart

could think capable of accommodating so many. Anne had

a moment`s astonishment on the subject herself; but it was soon lost

in the pleasanter feelings which sprang from the sight of all

the ingenious contrivances and nice arrangements of Captain Harville,

to turn the actual space to the best account, to supply the deficiencies

of lodging-house furniture, and defend the windows and doors

against the winter storms to be expected. The varieties in

the fitting-up of the rooms, where the common necessaries

provided by the owner, in the common indifferent plight,

were contrasted with some few articles of a rare species of wood,

excellently worked up, and with something curious and valuable

from all the distant countries Captain Harville had visited,

were more than amusing to Anne; connected as it all was with his profession,

the fruit of its labours, the effect of its influence on his habits,

the picture of repose and domestic happiness it presented,

made it to her a something more, or less, than gratification.

 

Captain Harville was no reader; but he had contrived

excellent accommodations, and fashioned very pretty shelves,

for a tolerable collection of well-bound volumes, the property of

Captain Benwick. His lameness prevented him from taking much exercise;

but a mind of usefulness and ingenuity seemed to furnish him with

constant employment within. He drew, he varnished, he carpentered,

he glued; he made toys for the children; he fashioned new netting-needles

and pins with improvements; and if everything else was done,

sat down to his large fishing-net at one corner of the room.

 

Anne thought she left great happiness behind her when they

quitted the house; and Louisa, by whom she found herself walking,

burst forth into raptures of admiration and delight on the character

of the navy; their friendliness, their brotherliness, their openness,

their uprightness; protesting that she was convinced of sailors having

more worth and warmth than any other set of men in England;

that they only knew how to live, and they only deserved to be

respected and loved.

 

They went back to dress and dine; and so well had the scheme

answered already, that nothing was found amiss; though its being

"so entirely out of season," and the "no thoroughfare of Lyme,"

and the "no expectation of company," had brought many apologies

from the heads of the inn.

 

Anne found herself by this time growing so much more hardened

to being in Captain Wentworth`s company than she had at first imagined

could ever be, that the sitting down to the same table with him now,

and the interchange of the common civilities attending on it

(they never got beyond), was become a mere nothing.

 

The nights were too dark for the ladies to meet again till the morrow,

but Captain Harville had promised them a visit in the evening;

and he came, bringing his friend also, which was more than

had been expected, it having been agreed that Captain Benwick

had all the appearance of being oppressed by the presence of

so many strangers. He ventured among them again, however,

though his spirits certainly did not seem fit for the mirth

of the party in general.

 

While Captains Wentworth and Harville led the talk on one side of the room,

and by recurring to former days, supplied anecdotes in abundance

to occupy and entertain the others, it fell to Anne`s lot to be placed

rather apart with Captain Benwick; and a very good impulse

of her nature obliged her to begin an acquaintance with him.

He was shy, and disposed to abstraction; but the engaging mildness of

her countenance, and gentleness of her manners, soon had their effect;

and Anne was well repaid the first trouble of exertion.

He was evidently a young man of considerable taste in reading,

though principally in poetry; and besides the persuasion of having

given him at least an evening`s indulgence in the discussion of subjects,

which his usual companions had probably no concern in, she had the hope

of being of real use to him in some suggestions as to the duty and

benefit of struggling against affliction, which had naturally grown out

of their conversation. For, though shy, he did not seem reserved;

it had rather the appearance of feelings glad to burst their

usual restraints; and having talked of poetry, the richness of

the present age, and gone through a brief comparison of opinion

as to the first-rate poets, trying to ascertain whether Marmion

or The Lady of the Lake were to be preferred, and how ranked the Giaour

and The Bride of Abydos; and moreover, how the Giaour was to be pronounced,

he showed himself so intimately acquainted with all the tenderest songs

of the one poet, and all the impassioned descriptions of hopeless agony

of the other; he repeated, with such tremulous feeling, the various lines

which imaged a broken heart, or a mind destroyed by wretchedness,

and looked so entirely as if he meant to be understood,

that she ventured to hope he did not always read only poetry,

and to say, that she thought it was the misfortune of poetry to be

seldom safely enjoyed by those who enjoyed it completely;

and that the strong feelings which alone could estimate it truly

were the very feelings which ought to taste it but sparingly.

 

His looks shewing him not pained, but pleased with this allusion

to his situation, she was emboldened to go on; and feeling in herself

the right of seniority of mind, she ventured to recommend

a larger allowance of prose in his daily study; and on being requested

to particularize, mentioned such works of our best moralists,

such collections of the finest letters, such memoirs of characters

of worth and suffering, as occurred to her at the moment

as calculated to rouse and fortify the mind by the highest precepts,

and the strongest examples of moral and religious endurances.

 

Captain Benwick listened attentively, and seemed grateful for

the interest implied; and though with a shake of the head,

and sighs which declared his little faith in the efficacy of any books

on grief like his, noted down the names of those she recommended,

and promised to procure and read them.

 

When the evening was over, Anne could not but be amused at the idea

of her coming to Lyme to preach patience and resignation to a young man

whom she had never seen before; nor could she help fearing,

on more serious reflection, that, like many other great moralists

and preachers, she had been eloquent on a point in which her own conduct

would ill bear examination.

 

Chapter 12

 

 

Anne and Henrietta, finding themselves the earliest of the party

the next morning, agreed to stroll down to the sea before breakfast.

They went to the sands, to watch the flowing of the tide,

which a fine south-easterly breeze was bringing in with all the grandeur

which so flat a shore admitted. They praised the morning;

gloried in the sea; sympathized in the delight of the fresh-feeling

breeze--and were silent; till Henrietta suddenly began again with--

 

"Oh! yes,--I am quite convinced that, with very few exceptions,

the sea-air always does good. There can be no doubt of its having been

of the greatest service to Dr Shirley, after his illness,

last spring twelve-month. He declares himself, that coming to Lyme

for a month, did him more good than all the medicine he took;

and, that being by the sea, always makes him feel young again.

Now, I cannot help thinking it a pity that he does not live

entirely by the sea. I do think he had better leave Uppercross entirely,

and fix at Lyme. Do not you, Anne? Do not you agree with me,

that it is the best thing he could do, both for himself and Mrs Shirley?

She has cousins here, you know, and many acquaintance, which would

make it cheerful for her, and I am sure she would be glad

to get to a place where she could have medical attendance at hand,

in case of his having another seizure. Indeed I think it quite melancholy

to have such excellent people as Dr and Mrs Shirley, who have been

doing good all their lives, wearing out their last days in a place

like Uppercross, where, excepting our family, they seem shut out

from all the world. I wish his friends would propose it to him.

I really think they ought. And, as to procuring a dispensation,

there could be no difficulty at his time of life, and with his character.

My only doubt is, whether anything could persuade him to leave his parish.

He is so very strict and scrupulous in his notions; over-scrupulous

I must say. Do not you think, Anne, it is being over-scrupulous?

Do not you think it is quite a mistaken point of conscience,

when a clergyman sacrifices his health for the sake of duties,

which may be just as well performed by another person? And at Lyme too,

only seventeen miles off, he would be near enough to hear,

if people thought there was anything to complain of."

 

Anne smiled more than once to herself during this speech,

and entered into the subject, as ready to do good by entering into

the feelings of a young lady as of a young man, though here it was good

of a lower standard, for what could be offered but general acquiescence?

She said all that was reasonable and proper on the business;

felt the claims of Dr Shirley to repose as she ought; saw how very

desirable it was that he should have some active, respectable young man,

as a resident curate, and was even courteous enough to hint at

the advantage of such resident curate`s being married.

 

"I wish," said Henrietta, very well pleased with her companion,

"I wish Lady Russell lived at Uppercross, and were intimate

with Dr Shirley. I have always heard of Lady Russell as a woman of

the greatest influence with everybody! I always look upon her as able

to persuade a person to anything! I am afraid of her, as I have

told you before, quite afraid of her, because she is so very clever;

but I respect her amazingly, and wish we had such a neighbour

at Uppercross."

 

Anne was amused by Henrietta`s manner of being grateful,

and amused also that the course of events and the new interests

of Henrietta`s views should have placed her friend at all in favour

with any of the Musgrove family; she had only time, however,

for a general answer, and a wish that such another woman

were at Uppercross, before all subjects suddenly ceased,

on seeing Louisa and Captain Wentworth coming towards them.

They came also for a stroll till breakfast was likely to be ready;

but Louisa recollecting, immediately afterwards that she had something

to procure at a shop, invited them all to go back with her into the town.

They were all at her disposal.

 

When they came to the steps, leading upwards from the beach, a gentleman,

at the same moment preparing to come down, politely drew back,

and stopped to give them way. They ascended and passed him;

and as they passed, Anne`s face caught his eye, and he looked at her

with a degree of earnest admiration, which she could not be insensible of.

She was looking remarkably well; her very regular, very pretty features,

having the bloom and freshness of youth restored by the fine wind

which had been blowing on her complexion, and by the animation of eye

which it had also produced. It was evident that the gentleman,

(completely a gentleman in manner) admired her exceedingly.

Captain Wentworth looked round at her instantly in a way which

shewed his noticing of it. He gave her a momentary glance,

a glance of brightness, which seemed to say, "That man is struck with you,

and even I, at this moment, see something like Anne Elliot again."

 

After attending Louisa through her business, and loitering about

a little longer, they returned to the inn; and Anne, in passing afterwards

quickly from her own chamber to their dining-room, had nearly run against

the very same gentleman, as he came out of an adjoining apartment.

She had before conjectured him to be a stranger like themselves,

and determined that a well-looking groom, who was strolling about

near the two inns as they came back, should be his servant.

Both master and man being in mourning assisted the idea.

It was now proved that he belonged to the same inn as themselves;

and this second meeting, short as it was, also proved again

by the gentleman`s looks, that he thought hers very lovely,

and by the readiness and propriety of his apologies, that he was

a man of exceedingly good manners. He seemed about thirty,

and though not handsome, had an agreeable person. Anne felt that

she should like to know who he was.

 

They had nearly done breakfast, when the sound of a carriage,

(almost the first they had heard since entering Lyme) drew half the party

to the window. It was a gentleman`s carriage, a curricle,

but only coming round from the stable-yard to the front door;

somebody must be going away. It was driven by a servant in mourning.

 

The word curricle made Charles Musgrove jump up that he might

compare it with his own; the servant in mourning roused Anne`s curiosity,

and the whole six were collected to look, by the time the owner

of the curricle was to be seen issuing from the door amidst the bows

and civilities of the household, and taking his seat, to drive off.

 

"Ah!" cried Captain Wentworth, instantly, and with half a glance at Anne,

"it is the very man we passed."

 

The Miss Musgroves agreed to it; and having all kindly watched him

as far up the hill as they could, they returned to the breakfast table.

The waiter came into the room soon afterwards.

 

"Pray," said Captain Wentworth, immediately, "can you tell us the name

of the gentleman who is just gone away?"

 

"Yes, Sir, a Mr Elliot, a gentleman of large fortune, came in last night

from Sidmouth. Dare say you heard the carriage, sir, while you were

at dinner; and going on now for Crewkherne, in his way to Bath

and London."

 

"Elliot!" Many had looked on each other, and many had repeated the name,

before all this had been got through, even by the smart rapidity

of a waiter.

 

"Bless me!" cried Mary; "it must be our cousin; it must be our Mr Elliot,

it must, indeed! Charles, Anne, must not it? In mourning, you see,

just as our Mr Elliot must be. How very extraordinary!

In the very same inn with us! Anne, must not it be our Mr Elliot?

my father`s next heir? Pray sir," turning to the waiter,

"did not you hear, did not his servant say whether he belonged

to the Kellynch family?"

 

"No, ma`am, he did not mention no particular family; but he said

his master was a very rich gentleman, and would be a baronight some day."

 

"There! you see!" cried Mary in an ecstasy, "just as I said!

Heir to Sir Walter Elliot! I was sure that would come out,

if it was so. Depend upon it, that is a circumstance which his servants

take care to publish, wherever he goes. But, Anne, only conceive

how extraordinary! I wish I had looked at him more. I wish we had

been aware in time, who it was, that he might have been introduced to us.

What a pity that we should not have been introduced to each other!

Do you think he had the Elliot countenance? I hardly looked at him,

I was looking at the horses; but I think he had something

of the Elliot countenance, I wonder the arms did not strike me!

Oh! the great-coat was hanging over the panel, and hid the arms,

so it did; otherwise, I am sure, I should have observed them,

and the livery too; if the servant had not been in mourning,

one should have known him by the livery."

 

"Putting all these very extraordinary circumstances together,"

said Captain Wentworth, "we must consider it to be the arrangement

of Providence, that you should not be introduced to your cousin."

 

When she could command Mary`s attention, Anne quietly tried

to convince her that their father and Mr Elliot had not, for many years,

been on such terms as to make the power of attempting an introduction

at all desirable.

 

At the same time, however, it was a secret gratification to herself

to have seen her cousin, and to know that the future owner of Kellynch

was undoubtedly a gentleman, and had an air of good sense.

She would not, upon any account, mention her having met with him

the second time; luckily Mary did not much attend to their having

passed close by him in their earlier walk, but she would have felt

quite ill-used by Anne`s having actually run against him in the passage,

and received his very polite excuses, while she had never been

near him at all; no, that cousinly little interview must remain

a perfect secret.

 

"Of course," said Mary, "you will mention our seeing Mr Elliot,

the next time you write to Bath. I think my father certainly

ought to hear of it; do mention all about him."

 

Anne avoided a direct reply, but it was just the circumstance

which she considered as not merely unnecessary to be communicated,

but as what ought to be suppressed. The offence which had been given

her father, many years back, she knew; Elizabeth`s particular share in it

she suspected; and that Mr Elliot`s idea always produced irritation in both

was beyond a doubt. Mary never wrote to Bath herself; all the toil

of keeping up a slow and unsatisfactory correspondence with Elizabeth

fell on Anne.

 

Breakfast had not been long over, when they were joined by Captain

and Mrs Harville and Captain Benwick; with whom they had appointed

to take their last walk about Lyme. They ought to be setting off

for Uppercross by one, and in the mean while were to be all together,

and out of doors as long as they could.

 

Anne found Captain Benwick getting near her, as soon as they were all

fairly in the street. Their conversation the preceding evening

did not disincline him to seek her again; and they walked together

some time, talking as before of Mr Scott and Lord Byron,

and still as unable as before, and as unable as any other two readers,

to think exactly alike of the merits of either, till something

occasioned an almost general change amongst their party, and instead of

Captain Benwick, she had Captain Harville by her side.

 

"Miss Elliot," said he, speaking rather low, "you have done a good deed

in making that poor fellow talk so much. I wish he could have

such company oftener. It is bad for him, I know, to be shut up as he is;

but what can we do? We cannot part."

 

"No," said Anne, "that I can easily believe to be impossible;

but in time, perhaps--we know what time does in every case of affliction,

and you must remember, Captain Harville, that your friend

may yet be called a young mourner--only last summer, I understand."

 

"Ay, true enough," (with a deep sigh) "only June."

 

"And not known to him, perhaps, so soon."

 

"Not till the first week of August, when he came home from the Cape,

just made into the Grappler. I was at Plymouth dreading to hear of him;

he sent in letters, but the Grappler was under orders for Portsmouth.

There the news must follow him, but who was to tell it? not I.

I would as soon have been run up to the yard-arm. Nobody could do it,

but that good fellow" (pointing to Captain Wentworth.) "The Laconia

had come into Plymouth the week before; no danger of her

being sent to sea again. He stood his chance for the rest;

wrote up for leave of absence, but without waiting the return,

travelled night and day till he got to Portsmouth, rowed off

to the Grappler that instant, and never left the poor fellow for a week.

That`s what he did, and nobody else could have saved poor James.

You may think, Miss Elliot, whether he is dear to us!"

 

Anne did think on the question with perfect decision, and said as much

in reply as her own feeling could accomplish, or as his seemed

able to bear, for he was too much affected to renew the subject,

and when he spoke again, it was of something totally different.

 

Mrs Harville`s giving it as her opinion that her husband would have

quite walking enough by the time he reached home, determined the direction

of all the party in what was to be their last walk; they would

accompany them to their door, and then return and set off themselves.

By all their calculations there was just time for this; but as they drew

near the Cobb, there was such a general wish to walk along it once more,

all were so inclined, and Louisa soon grew so determined,

that the difference of a quarter of an hour, it was found,

would be no difference at all; so with all the kind leave-taking,

and all the kind interchange of invitations and promises which

may be imagined, they parted from Captain and Mrs Harville

at their own door, and still accompanied by Captain Benwick,

who seemed to cling to them to the last, proceeded to make

the proper adieus to the Cobb.

 

Anne found Captain Benwick again drawing near her. Lord Byron`s

"dark blue seas" could not fail of being brought forward by

their present view, and she gladly gave him all her attention as long as

attention was possible. It was soon drawn, perforce another way.

 

There was too much wind to make the high part of the new Cobb pleasant

for the ladies, and they agreed to get down the steps to the lower,

and all were contented to pass quietly and carefully down the steep flight,

excepting Louisa; she must be jumped down them by Captain Wentworth.

In all their walks, he had had to jump her from the stiles;

the sensation was delightful to her. The hardness of the pavement

for her feet, made him less willing upon the present occasion;

he did it, however. She was safely down, and instantly,

to show her enjoyment, ran up the steps to be jumped down again.

He advised her against it, thought the jar too great; but no,

he reasoned and talked in vain, she smiled and said, "I am determined

I will:" he put out his hands; she was too precipitate by half a second,

she fell on the pavement on the Lower Cobb, and was taken up lifeless!

There was no wound, no blood, no visible bruise; but her eyes were closed,

she breathed not, her face was like death. The horror of the moment

to all who stood around!

 

Captain Wentworth, who had caught her up, knelt with her in his arms,

looking on her with a face as pallid as her own, in an agony of silence.

"She is dead! she is dead!" screamed Mary, catching hold of her

husband, and contributing with his own horror to make him immoveable;

and in another moment, Henrietta, sinking under the conviction, lost

her senses too, and would have fallen on the steps, but for Captain

Benwick and Anne, who caught and supported her between them.

 

"Is there no one to help me?" were the first words which

burst from Captain Wentworth, in a tone of despair, and as if

all his own strength were gone.

 

"Go to him, go to him," cried Anne, "for heaven`s sake go to him.

I can support her myself. Leave me, and go to him. Rub her hands,

rub her temples; here are salts; take them, take them."

 

Captain Benwick obeyed, and Charles at the same moment,

disengaging himself from his wife, they were both with him;

and Louisa was raised up and supported more firmly between them,

and everything was done that Anne had prompted, but in vain;

while Captain Wentworth, staggering against the wall for his support,

exclaimed in the bitterest agony--

 

"Oh God! her father and mother!"

 

"A surgeon!" said Anne.

 

He caught the word; it seemed to rouse him at once, and saying only--

"True, true, a surgeon this instant," was darting away,

when Anne eagerly suggested--

 

"Captain Benwick, would not it be better for Captain Benwick?

He knows where a surgeon is to be found."

 

Every one capable of thinking felt the advantage of the idea,

and in a moment (it was all done in rapid moments) Captain Benwick had

resigned the poor corpse-like figure entirely to the brother`s care,

and was off for the town with the utmost rapidity.

 

As to the wretched party left behind, it could scarcely be said

which of the three, who were completely rational, was suffering most:

Captain Wentworth, Anne, or Charles, who, really a very affectionate

brother, hung over Louisa with sobs of grief, and could only turn his eyes

from one sister, to see the other in a state as insensible,

or to witness the hysterical agitations of his wife, calling on him

for help which he could not give.

 

Anne, attending with all the strength and zeal, and thought,

which instinct supplied, to Henrietta, still tried, at intervals,

to suggest comfort to the others, tried to quiet Mary, to animate Charles,

to assuage the feelings of Captain Wentworth. Both seemed to look to her

for directions.

 

"Anne, Anne," cried Charles, "What is to be done next?

What, in heaven`s name, is to be done next?"

 

Captain Wentworth`s eyes were also turned towards her.

 

"Had not she better be carried to the inn? Yes, I am sure:

carry her gently to the inn."

 

"Yes, yes, to the inn," repeated Captain Wentworth, comparatively