the professor(教授)-第51章
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activity soon mitigates regret。 Sickness affects him； he takes
patience—endures what he cannot cure。 Acute pain racks him； his
writhing limbs know not where to find rest； he leans on Hope’s
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anchors。 Death takes from him what he loves； roots up； and tears
violently away the stem round which his affections were twined—a
dark； dismal time； a frightful wrench—but some morning Religion
looks into his desolate house with sunrise； and says； that in
another world； another life； he shall meet his kindred again。 She
speaks of that world as a place unsullied by sin—of that life； as an
era unembittered by suffering； she mightily strengthens her
consolation by connecting with it two ideas—which mortals
cannot comprehend； but on which they love to repose—Eternity；
Immortality； and the mind of the mourner； being filled with an
image； faint yet glorious； of heavenly hills all light and peace—of a
spirit resting there in bliss—of a day when his spirit shall also
alight there； free and disembodied—of a reunion perfected by
love； purified from fear—he takes courage—goes out to encounter
the necessities and discharge the duties of life； and； though
sadness may never lift her burden from his mind； Hope will enable
him to support it。
Well—and what suggested all this？ and what is the inference to
be drawn therefrom？ What suggested it； is the circumstance of my
best pupil—my treasure—being snatched from my hands； and put
away out of my reach； the inference to be drawn from it is—that；
being a steady； reasonable man； I did not allow the resentment；
disappointment； and grief； engendered in my mind by this evil
chance； to grow there to any monstrous size； nor did I allow them
to monopolize the whole space of my heart； I pent them； on the
contrary； in one strait and secret nook。 In the daytime； too； when I
was about my duties； I put them on the silent system； and it was
only after I had closed the door of my chamber at night that I
somewhat relaxed my severity towards these morose nurslings；
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and allowed vent to their language of murmurs； then； in revenge；
they sat on my pillow； haunted my bed； and kept me awake with
their long； midnight cry。
A week passed。 I had said nothing more to Mdlle Reuter。 I had
been calm in my demeanour to her； though stony cold and hard。
When I looked at her； it was with the glance fitting to be bestowed
on one who I knew had consulted jealousy as an adviser； and
employed treachery as an instrument—the glance of quiet disdain
and rooted distrust。 On Saturday evening； ere I left the house； I
stept into the salle…à…manger； where she was sitting alone； and；
placing myself before her； I asked； with the same tranquil tone and
manner that I should have used had I put the question for the first
time—
“Mademoiselle； will you have the goodness to give me the
address of Frances Evans Henri？”
A little surprised； but not disconcerted； she smilingly
disclaimed any knowledge of that address； adding； “Monsieur has
perhaps forgotten that I explained all about that circumstance
before—a week ago？”
“Mademoiselle；” I continued； “you would greatly oblige me by
directing me to that young person’s abode。”
She seemed somewhat puzzled； and； at last； looking up with an
admirably counterfeited air of naiveté； she demanded； “Does
Monsieur think I am telling an untruth？”
Still avoiding to give her a direct answer； I said； “It is not then
your intention； mademoiselle； to oblige me in this particular？”
“But； monsieur； how can I tell you what I do not know？”
“Very well； I understand you perfectly； mademoiselle； and now
I have only two or three words to say。 This is the last week in July；
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in another month the vacation will commence I have the goodness
to avail yourself of the leisure it will afford you to look out for
another English master—at the close of August； I shall be under
the necessity of resigning my post in your establishment。”
I did not wait for her comments on this announcement； but
bowed and immediately withdrew。
That same evening； soon after dinner； a servant brought me a
small packet； it was directed in a hand I knew； but had not hoped
so soon to see again； being in my own apartment and alone； there
was nothing to prevent my immediately opening it； it contained
four five…franc pieces； and a note in English。
“MONSIEUR；—“I came to Mdlle Reuter’s house yesterday； at the
time when I knew you would be just about finishing your lesson；
and I asked if I might go into the schoolroom and speak to you。
Mdlle Reuter came out and said you were already gone； it had not
yet struck four； so I thought she must be mistaken； but concluded
it would be vain to call another day on the same errand。 In one
sense a note will do as well—it will wrap up the 20 francs； the price
of the lessons I have received from you； and if it will not fully
express the thanks I owe you in addition—if it will not bid you
good…bye as I could wish to have done—if it will not tell you； as I
long to do； how sorry I am that I shall probably never see you
more—why； spoken words would hardly be more adequate to the
task。 Had I seen you； I should probably have stammered out
something feeble and unsatisfactory—something belying my
feelings rather than explaining them； so it is perhaps as well that I
was denied admission to your presence。 You often remarked；
monsieur； that my devoirs dwelt a great deal on fortitude in
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bearing grief—you said I introduced that theme too often： I find
indeed that it is much easier to write about a severe duty than to
perform it； for I am oppressed when I see and feel to what a
reverse fate has condemned me； you were kind to me； monsieur—
very kind； I am afflicted—I am heart…broken to be quite separated
from you； soon I shall have no friend on earth。 But it is useless
troubling you with my distresses。 What claim have I on your
sympathy？ None； I will then say no more。—Farewell； Monsieur。
“F。 E。 HENRI。”
I put up the note in my pocket…book。 I slipped the five…franc
pieces into my purse—then I t
