Northanger Abbey - Chapter 24

The next day afforded no opportunity for the proposed examination of the mysterious apartments. It was Sunday, and the whole time between morning and afternoon service was required by the general in exercise abroad or eating cold meat at home; and great as was Catherine's curiosity, her courage was not equal to a wish of exploring them after dinner, either by the fading light of the sky between six and seven o'clock, or by the yet more partial though stronger illumination of a treacherous ² lamp. The day was unmarked therefore by anything to interest her imagination beyond the sight of a very elegant monument to the memory of Mrs. Tilney, which immediately fronted the family pew. By that her eye was instantly caught and long retained; and the perusal ³ of the highly strained epitaph, in which every virtue ⁴ was ascribed to her by the inconsolable husband, who must have been in some way or other her destroyer, affected ⁵ her even to tears., ,That the general, having erected ⁶ such a monument, should be able to face it, was not perhaps very strange, and yet that he could sit so boldly collected within its view, maintain so elevated an air, look so fearlessly around, nay ⁷, that he should even enter the church, seemed wonderful to Catherine. Not, however, that many instances of beings equally hardened in guilt ⁸ might not be produced. She could remember dozens who had persevered ⁹ in every possible vice ¹, going on from crime to crime, murdering whomsoever they chose, without any feeling of humanity or remorse ¹⁰; till a violent death or a religious retirement ¹¹ closed their black career. The erection of the monument itself could not in the smallest degree affect her doubts of Mrs. Tilney's actual decease. Were she even to descend ¹² into the family vault ¹³ where her ashes were supposed to slumber ¹⁴, were she to behold ¹⁵ the coffin ¹⁶ in which they were said to be enclosed—what could it avail in such a case? Catherine had read too much not to be perfectly ¹⁷ aware of the ease with which a waxen figure might be introduced, and a supposititious funeral carried on., ,The succeeding morning promised something better. The general's early walk, ill-timed as it was in every other view, was favourable ¹⁸ here; and when she knew him to be out of the house, she directly proposed to Miss Tilney the accomplishment ¹⁹ of her promise. Eleanor was ready to oblige her; and Catherine reminding her as they went of another promise, their first visit in consequence was to the portrait in her bed- chamber ²⁰. It represented a very lovely woman, with a mild and pensive ²¹ countenance ²², justifying ²³, so far, the expectations of its new observer; but they were not in every respect answered, for Catherine had depended upon meeting with features, hair, complexion ²⁴, that should be the very counterpart, the very image, if not of Henry's, of Eleanor's—the only portraits of which she had been in the habit of thinking, bearing always an equal resemblance of mother and child. A face once taken was taken for generations. But here she was obliged to look and consider and study for a likeness ²⁵. She contemplated ²⁶ it, however, in spite of this drawback, with much emotion, and, but for a yet stronger interest, would have left it unwillingly ²⁷., , ,In the course of this morning's reflections, she came to a resolution of making her next attempt on the forbidden door alone. It would be much better in every respect that Eleanor should know nothing of the matter. To involve her in the danger of a second detection, to court her into an apartment which must wring ⁴³ her heart, could not be the office of a friend. The general's utmost anger could not be to herself what it might be to a daughter; and, besides, she thought the examination itself would be more satisfactory if made without any companion. It would be impossible to explain to Eleanor the suspicions, from which the other had, in all likelihood, been hitherto happily exempt ⁴⁴; nor could she therefore, in her presence, search for those proofs of the general's cruelty, which however they might yet have escaped discovery, she felt confident of somewhere drawing forth ⁴⁵, in the shape of some fragmented journal, continued to the last gasp ⁴⁶. Of the way to the apartment she was now perfectly mistress; and as she wished to get it over before Henry's return, who was expected on the morrow, there was no time to be lost. The day was bright, her courage high; at four o'clock, the sun was now two hours above the horizon, and it would be only her retiring to dress half an hour earlier than usual., ,It was done; and Catherine found herself alone in the gallery before the clocks had ceased to strike. It was no time for thought; she hurried on, slipped with the least possible noise through the folding doors, and without stopping to look or breathe, rushed forward to the one in question. The lock yielded to her hand, and, luckily, with no sullen ⁴⁷ sound that could alarm a human being. On tiptoe she entered; the room was before her; but it was some minutes before she could advance another step. She beheld ⁴⁸ what fixed ⁴⁹ her to the spot and agitated ⁵⁰ every feature. She saw a large, well-proportioned apartment, an handsome dimity bed, arranged as unoccupied with an housemaid's care, a bright Bath stove, mahogany wardrobes, and neatly ⁵¹ painted chairs, on which the warm beams of a western sun gaily ⁵² poured through two sash windows! Catherine had expected to have her feelings worked, and worked they were. Astonishment ⁵³ and doubt first seized them; and a shortly succeeding ray of common sense added some bitter emotions of shame. She could not be mistaken as to the room; but how grossly mistaken in everything else!—in Miss Tilney's meaning, in her own calculation! This apartment, to which she had given a date so ancient, a position so awful, proved to be one end of what the general's father had built. There were two other doors in the chamber, leading probably into dressing-closets; but she had no inclination ⁵⁴ to open either. Would the veil in which Mrs. Tilney had last walked, or the volume in which she had last read, remain to tell what nothing else was allowed to whisper? No: whatever might have been the general's crimes, he had certainly too much wit to let them sue for detection. She was sick of exploring, and desired but to be safe in her own room, with her own heart only privy ⁵⁵ to its folly ⁵⁶; and she was on the point of retreating as softly as she had entered, when the sound of footsteps, she could hardly tell where, made her pause and tremble. To be found there, even by a servant, would be unpleasant; but by the general (and he seemed always at hand when least wanted), much worse! She listened—the sound had ceased; and resolving not to lose a moment, she passed through and closed the door. At that instant a door underneath ⁵⁷ was hastily opened; someone seemed with swift steps to ascend ⁵⁸ the stairs, by the head of which she had yet to pass before she could gain the gallery. She had no power to move. With a feeling of terror not very definable, she fixed her eyes on the staircase, and in a few moments it gave Henry to her view. "Mr. Tilney!" she exclaimed in a voice of more than common astonishment. He looked astonished too. "Good God!" she continued, not attending to his address. "How came you here? How came you up that staircase?", ,They are sunk in the depth of vice.他们堕入了罪恶的深渊。,The surface water made the road treacherous for drivers.路面的积水对驾车者构成危险 。