"Come along do! Phantoms! There's neither living nor dead hereabouts except a damn policeman! I never saw the streets emptier."
"Fancy! The Poet of Liberty used to walk here, and the great Dissector of Melancholy there!"
"I don't want to hear about 'em! They bore me."
"Walter Raleigh is beckoning to me from that lane--Wycliffe-- Harvey--Hooker--Arnold--and a whole crowd of Tractarian Shades"
"I DON'T WANT to know their names, I tell you! What do I care about folk dead and gone? Upon my soul you are more sober when you've been drinking than when you have not!"
"I must rest a moment," he said; and as he paused, holding to the railings, he measured with his eye the height of a college front. "This is old Rubric. And that Sarcophagus; and Up that lane Crozier and Tudor: and all down there is Cardinal with its long front, and its windows with lifted eyebrows, representing the polite surprise of the university at the efforts of such as I."
"Come along, and I'll treat you!"
"Very well. It will help me home, for I feel the chilly fog from the meadows of Cardinal as if death-claws were grabbing me through and through. As Antigone said, I am neither a dweller among men nor ghosts. But, Arabella, when I am dead, you'll see my spirit flitting up and down here among these!"
"Pooh! You mayn't die after all. You are tough enough yet, old man."
It was night at Marygreen, and the rain of the afternoon showed no sign of abatement. About the time at which Jude and Arabella were walking the streets of Christminster homeward, the Widow Edlin crossed the green, and opened the back door of the schoolmaster's dwelling, which she often did now before bedtime, to assist Sue in putting things away.
Sue was muddling helplessly in the kitchen, for she was not a good housewife, though she tried to be, and grew impatient of domestic details.
"Lord love 'ee, what do ye do that yourself for, when I've come o' purpose! You knew I should come."
"Oh--I don't know--I forgot! No, I didn't forget. I did it to discipline myself. I have scrubbed the stairs since eight o'clock. I MUST practise myself in my household duties. I've shamefully neglected them!"
"Why should ye? He'll get a better school, perhaps be a parson, in time, and you'll keep two servants. 'Tis a pity to spoil them pretty hands."
"Don't talk of my pretty hands, Mrs. Edlin. This pretty body of mine has been the ruin of me already!"
"Pshoo--you've got no body to speak of! You put me more in mind of a sperrit. But there seems something wrong to-night, my dear. Husband cross?"
"No. He never is. He's gone to bed early."
"Then what is it?"
"I cannot tell you. I have done wrong to-day. And I want to eradicate it.... Well--I will tell you this--Jude has been here this afternoon, and I find I still love him--oh, grossly! I cannot tell you more."
"Ah!" said the widow. "I told 'ee how 'twould be!"
"But it shan't be! I have not told my husband of his visit; it is not necessary to trouble him about it, as I never mean to see Jude any more. But I am going to make my conscience right on my duty to Richard--by doing a penance--the ultimate thing. I must!"
"I wouldn't--since he agrees to it being otherwise, and it has gone on three months very well as it is."
"Yes--he agrees to my living as I choose; but I feel it is an indulgence I ought not to exact from him. It ought not to have been accepted by me. To reverse it will be terrible--but I must be more just to him. O why was I so unheroic!"
"What is it you don't like in him?" asked Mrs. Edlin curiously.
"I cannot tell you. It is something ... I cannot say. The mournful thing is, that nobody would admit it as a reason for feeling as I do; so that no excuse is left me."
"Did you ever tell Jude what it was?"
"Never."
"I've heard strange tales o' husbands in my time," observed the widow in a lowered voice. "They say that when the saints were upon the earth devils used to take husbands' forms o' nights, and get poor women into all sorts of trouble. But I don't know why that should come into my head, for it is only a tale.... What a wind and rain it is to-night! Well-- don't be in a hurry to alter things, my dear. Think it over."
"No, no! I've screwed my weak soul up to treating him more courteously-- and it must be now--at once--before I break down!"
"I don't think you ought to force your nature. No woman ought to be expected to."
"It is my duty. I will drink my cup to the dregs!"
Half an hour later when Mrs. Edlin put on her bonnet and shawl to leave, Sue seemed to be seized with vague terror.
"No--no--don't go, Mrs. Edlin," she implored, her eyes enlarged, and with a quick nervous look over her shoulder.
"But it is bedtime, child."
"Yes, but--there's the little spare room--my room that was. It is quite ready. Please stay, Mrs. Edlin!--I shall want you in the morning."
"Oh well--I don't mind, if you wish. Nothing will happen to my four old walls, whether I be there or no."
She then fastened up the doors, and they ascended the stairs together.
"Wait here, Mrs. Edlin," said Sue. "I'll go into my old room a moment by myself."
Leaving the widow on the landing Sue turned to the chamber which had been hers exclusively since her arrival at Marygreen, and pushing to the door knelt down by the bed for a minute or two. She then arose, and taking her night-gown from the pillow undressed and came out to Mrs. Edlin. A man could be heard snoring in the room opposite. She wished Mrs. Edlin good-night, and the widow entered the room that Sue had just vacated.
Sue unlatched the other chamber door, and, as if seized with faintness, sank down outside it. Getting up again she half opened the door, and said "Richard." As the word came out of her mouth she visibly shuddered.
The snoring had quite ceased for some time, but he did not reply. Sue seemed relieved, and hurried back to Mrs. Edlin's chamber. "Are you in bed, Mrs. Edlin?" she asked.
"No, dear," said the widow, opening the door. "I be old and slow, and it takes me a long while to un-ray. I han't unlaced my jumps yet."
"I--don't hear him! And perhaps--perhaps --"
"What, child?"
"Perhaps he's dead!" she gasped. "And then--I should be FREE, and I could go to Jude! ... Ah--no--I forgot HER--and God!"
"Let's go and hearken. No--he's snoring again. But the rain and the wind is so loud that you can hardly hear anything but between whiles."
Sue had dragged herself back. "Mrs. Edlin, good-night again! I am sorry I called you out." The widow retreated a second time.
The strained, resigned look returned to Sue's face when she was alone. "I must do it--I must! I must drink to the dregs!" she whispered. "Richard!" she said again.
"Hey--what? Is that you, Susanna?"
"Yes."
"What do you want? Anything the matter? Wait a moment." He pulled on some articles of clothing, and came to the door. "Yes?"
"When we were at Shaston I jumped out of the window rather than that you should come near me. I have never reversed that treatment till now-- when I have come to beg your pardon for it, and ask you to let me in."
"Perhaps you only think you ought to do this? I don't wish you to come against your impulses, as I have said."
"But I beg to be admitted." She waited a moment, and repeated, "I beg to be admitted! I have been in error--even to-day. I have exceeded my rights. I did not mean to tell you, but perhaps I ought. I sinned against you this afternoon."
"How?"
"I met Jude! I didn't know he was coming. And----"
"Well?"
"I kissed him, and let him kiss me."
"Oh--the old story!"
"Richard, I didn't know we were going to kiss each other till we did!"
"How many times?"
"A good many. I don't know. I am horrified to look back on it, and the least I can do after it is to come to you like this."
"Come--this is pretty bad, after what I've done! Anything else to confess?"
"No." She had been intending to say: "I called him my darling love." But, as a contrite woman always keeps back a little, that portion of the scene remained untold. She went on: "I am never going to see him any more. He spoke of some things of the past: and it overcame me. He spoke of--the children. But, as I have said, I am glad-- almost glad I mean--that they are dead, Richard. It blots out all that life of mine!"
"Well--about not seeing him again any more. Come--you really mean this?" There was something in Phillotson's tone now which seemed to show that his three months of remarriage with Sue had somehow not been so satisfactory as his magnanimity or amative patience had anticipated.
"Yes, yes!"
"Perhaps you'll swear it on the New Testament?"
"I will."
He went back to the room and brought out a little brown Testament. "Now then: So help you God!"
She swore.
"Very good!"
"Now I supplicate you, Richard, to whom I belong, and whom I wish to honour and obey, as I vowed, to let me in."
"Think it over well. You know what it means. Having you back in the house was one thing--this another. So think again."
"I have thought--I wish this!"
"That's a complaisant spirit--and perhaps you are right. With a lover hanging about, a half-marriage should be completed. But I repeat my reminder this third and last time."
"It is my wish! ... O God!"
"What did you say 'O God' for?"
"I don't know!"
"Yes you do! But ..." He gloomily considered her thin and fragile form a moment longer as she crouched before him in her night-clothes. "Well, I thought it might end like this," he said presently. "I owe you nothing, after these signs; but I'll take you in at your word, and forgive you."
He put his arm round her to lift her up. Sue started back.
"What's the matter?" he asked, speaking for the first time sternly. "You shrink from me again?--just as formerly!"
"No, Richard--I I--was not thinking----"
"You wish to come in here?"
"Yes."
"You still bear in mind what it means?"
"Yes. It is my duty!"
Placing the candlestick on the chest of drawers he led her through the doorway, and lifting her bodily, kissed her. A quick look of aversion passed over her face, but clenching her teeth she uttered no cry.
Mrs. Edlin had by this time undressed, and was about to get into bed when she said to herself: "Ah--perhaps I'd better go and see if the little thing is all right. How it do blow and rain!"
The widow went out on the landing, and saw that Sue had disappeared. "Ah! Poor soul! Weddings be funerals 'a b'lieve nowadays. Fifty-five years ago, come Fall, since my man and I married! Times have changed since then!"
月台上站着阿拉贝拉。她上上下下地打量着他。
“你算是见过她啦？”她问。
“见过啦。”裘德说，他又冷又累，简直站不住了。
“行啊，那你就撒开腿把家回吧。”
他一走动，身上直往下淌水；跟着咳嗽起来，只好靠着墙，撑住自己。
“小伙子，你这是作死啊。”她说。“我纳闷你知道不知道？”
“当然知道。我就是作死。”
“怎么——想自杀？”
“一点不错。”
“唉，该算我倒了霉！为个女人，你居然肯自杀。”
“你听着，阿拉贝拉。你自以为比我强，讲体力，你的确比我强。你能一下子就把我撂倒。前几天你没把信寄走，对你这样的行为，我很气，可是无可奈何。不过掉个角度看，我可不像你想的那么弱。我已经想透了，一个男人害肺病，弄得足不出户，这家伙只剩下两个心愿：他要去见一个与众不同的女人，然后死了拉倒。他在雨里出趟远门，岂不是于干脆脆，一举两得，偿了心愿。我就这么干了，最后见了她一面，也了掉自己——把这条害痨病的命送掉。这条命原本不该生下来。”
“天哪——你还真能说大话！你是不是来点热的喝喝？”
“谢谢，不必啦。咱们就回家吧。”
他们一路走过了一座座阒无声息的学院，裘德老是走走停停。
“你这会儿净瞧什么？”
“见到鬼啦。我从前头一回在这儿走，就瞧见了那些死人的魂灵，这会儿走最后一回，好像又瞧见它们啦。”
“你这家伙可真怪！”
“我好像瞧见他们了，好像听见他们窸窸窣窣的声音了。不过我现在可不像从前崇拜他们那帮子了。他们里头总有一半，我是一点也不信了。什么神学家、护教派、他们的近亲玄学派、强悍的政治家等等，再也引不起我的兴趣来。严酷的现实这块磨盘替我把所有这些人物都碾碎了。”
在带着水汽的灯光下，裘德脸上那种僵死般的表情的确像在没人的地方见到了人。好几回他在拱廊边上站着不动，就像看见什么人走过来，接着又对一扇窗户望，似乎想在窗户后面找到一个熟捻的面孔。他又像听到了说话声；自己把那些话说了又说，似乎想弄懂他们的意思。
“他们好像都在笑我哪！”
“谁呀？”
“哎——我这是跟自个儿说话呀！鬼全凑在一块儿啦，拱廊里头、窗户里头都是。想当年他们透着多友好啊，特别是艾逖生、吉本、约翰生、布朗博士，克恩主教——”
“走你的吧！什么鬼不鬼的！这儿前后左右没活的，也没死的，就他妈个警察！我还没瞧见过街上这么冷冷清清没个人呢！”
“想想瞧啊！那位沤歌自由的诗人从前老在这儿徘徊，那位了不起的忧郁病的剖析大家就在那边！”
“你别跟我啰嗦这些，腻死我啦！”
“沃尔特•罗利正在那个巷子对我招手呢——威克利夫——哈维——胡克尔——安诺德——好多个讲册派鬼魂——”
“我跟你说，我不想听那些名字！我干吗管死人？我敢起誓，你没完没了喝酒的时候，脑子比你不喝的时候还清楚点！”
“我得歇会儿啦，”他说，停下来，手抓着栏杆，眼睛对着一座座学院的正面，测算它们的高度。“这是丹书；那是石棺；顺那个巷子往前就是权杖和都锋；再往前一直走，就是红衣主教，正面很宽，它的窗媚全往上挑着，表示大学一看到居然有我这样努力向学的人，不禁文诌诌惊讶起来。”
“跟我来吧，我来请你的客！”
“好哇！那就可以帮我走到家啦，因为这会儿我觉着红衣主教大草场那边吹过来的冷雾跟死神利爪似地钳得我紧紧的。死死的。我就跟安提戈尼说的一样，我人里不算人，鬼里不算鬼。不过，阿拉贝拉，我一死了，你就瞧得见我的魂儿在那群魂儿里头飘上飘下的。”
“屁话！照这样你还有得活呢。你的劲儿还足得很，老伙计。”
马利格林已经入夜，从下午起，雨势未见减弱。大致在裘德和阿拉贝拉在基督堂街上往家走的时候，艾林寡妇穿过草地，开了小学教师住宅的后门，她常常这样，在就寝前来帮苏收拾东西。
苏在厨房里忙东忙西，手脚不停，不知怎么好，虽然她一心想当个好当家的，可是她办不到，而且开始对琐碎的家务事感到厌烦。
“老天爷，你这是怎么啦，你干吗自个儿干哪，我不是为这个才来嘛！你又不是不知道我要来。”
“哦——我不知道——我忘啦！——不对，不是忘了，我没忘！我这是家务事练练手。我八点以后就把楼梯擦了。家务事，我得尽本分，得练出来。我不能不管不顾的，叫人看不上眼！”
“你这是怎么啦？他以后大概搞得到好点学校干，说不定到时候还当上牧师呢，那样你就有两个仆人好使唤呢。你这双好看的手要是糟蹋了，太可惜啦。”
“你别提我手好看吧，艾林太太。我这好看的肉身还不是成了祸根吗？”
“胡说——你别说什么肉身不肉身的。我心眼里头，你是个精灵啊。不过你今儿晚上显着有点不对劲儿，亲爱的。爷们找碴儿吗？”
“没有，他向来不找碴儿。他老早就睡啦。我今天做了错事，非得连根拔不可……好吧，我得告诉你——裘德下午来过啦，我觉着我还是爱他——哦，大错特错啊！我真没法跟你往下说啦。”
“啊！”寡妇说。“我不是跟你说过早晚还是这么回事嘛！”
“不过总不该那样啊！我还没跟我丈夫提他来过；因为我以后决不会再跟裘德见面，我拿这件事烦他就不必了。不过按我对里查的本分，我还是要做到问心无愧才行——我要表示回心转意——就那么一件事啦。我得那样才行。”
“我看你可不能那样——因为他答应过你怎么都行，再说这三个月过来不是挺好嘛！”
“不错——他答应过我按自己意思过；可是我觉着硬强着他听我的，未免太出格了。我不该那么接受下来。要是全变过来，那一定很可怕——不过我应该对他公平点。唉，我怎么这么胆小如鼠啊！”
“究竟他什么地方，你不喜欢呢？”艾林太太好奇地问。
“这不好跟你说。总有点事情……不好说，顶叫人烦恼不过的是，别管我自个儿觉着怎么样，人家反正认为你毫无道理，所以就是我再有理，也有口难分了。”
“这事儿，你以前跟裘德说过没有？”
“绝对没有。”
“我年轻时候听人讲过爷们的奇怪事儿。”寡妇压低了声音，煞有介事地说。“他们说，世间一有圣人在，邪鬼到晚上就托在爷们身上，这样那样把个可怜的人揉搓得不得了。这会儿我也不明白怎么一下子想起来了，总因为是个传说吧。今儿晚上又刮风又下雨，真厉害！呃——你可别急急忙忙变卦呀，亲爱的。你可得好好想想。”
“不行，不行！我已经硬逼着我这没出息的软骨头对他要以礼相待啦——现在只好这样啦——马上就办——乘着我还没垮下来！”
“我看你千万别拗着性子来。哪个女人也不该这样。”
“这是我的本分哪。我要把苦酒喝干了才罢休。”
半个钟头以后，艾林太太戴好帽子，披上围巾要走了，苏好像感到了莫名的恐惧。
“别——别——别走，艾林太太。”她央告着，眼睛睁得老大，迅速而又紧张地朝她身后望。
“可是到睡觉时候啦，孩子。”
“是到了，不过这儿还有间小屋子空着——是我自个儿的屋子。里头什么都齐全。请你留下来吧，艾林太太！——明天早晨我要你在。”
“哦，呃——你愿意这样，我倒没问题，反正我那个穷家破业老屋子出不了漏子。”
跟着她把门都关紧了，她们一块儿上了楼。
“你就在这儿等等，艾林太太，”苏说，“我一个人上我老屋子里去一下。”
苏让寡妇呆在楼梯平台上，自己转身进了她到马利格林以来一直归她独用的卧室；她把门关好了，就在床边跪倒，大概一两分钟光景；然后站起来，拿起枕头上的睡衣换上，又出去找艾林太太。这时可以听得见对面卧室里一个男人的鼾声。她向艾林太太道了晚安，寡妇就进了她刚让出来的屋子。
