the half-brothers- 第2部分

all　in　a　breath；　glad　and　proud　that　a　son　was　born　to　him；　and　sorry

for　his　poor　wife's　state；　and　to　think　how　his　angry　words　had

brought　it　on。　　But　he　was　a　man　who　liked　better　to　be　angry　than

sorry；　so　he　soon　found　out　that　it　was　all　Gregory's　fault；　and　owed

him　an　additional　grudge　for　having　hastened　my　birth。　　He　had

another　grudge　against　him　before　long。　　My　mother　began　to　sink　the

day　after　I　was　born。　　My　father　sent　to　Carlisle　for　doctors；　and

would　have　coined　his　heart's　blood　into　gold　to　save　her；　if　that

could　have　been；　but　it　could　not。　　My　aunt　Fanny　used　to　say

sometimes；　that　she　thought　that　Helen　did　not　wish　to　live；　and　so

just　let　herself　die　away　without　trying　to　take　hold　on　life；　but

when　I　questioned　her；　she　owned　that　my　mother　did　all　the　doctors

bade　her　do；　with　the　same　sort　of　uncomplaining　patience　with　which

she　had　acted　through　life。　　One　of　her　last　requests　was　to　have

Gregory　laid　in　her　bed　by　my　side；　and　then　she　made　him　take　hold

of　my　little　hand。　　Her　husband　came　in　while　she　was　looking　at　us

so；　and　when　he　bent　tenderly　over　her　to　ask　her　how　she　felt　now；

and　seemed　to　gaze　on　us　two　little　half…brothers；　with　a　grave　sort

of　kindness；　she　looked　up　in　his　face　and　smiled；　almost　her　first

smile　at　him；　and　such　a　sweet　smile！　as　more　besides　aunt　Fanny　have

said。　　In　an　hour　she　was　dead。　　Aunt　Fanny　came　to　live　with　us。　　It

was　the　best　thing　that　could　be　done。　　My　father　would　have　been

glad　to　return　to　his　old　mode　of　bachelor　life；　but　what　could　he　do

with　two　little　children？　　He　needed　a　woman　to　take　care　of　him；　and

who　so　fitting　as　his　wife's　elder　sister？　　So　she　had　the　charge　of

me　from　my　birth；　and　for　a　time　I　was　weakly；　as　was　but　natural；

and　she　was　always　beside　me；　night　and　day　watching　over　me；　and　my

father　nearly　as　anxious　as　she。　　For　his　land　had　come　down　from

father　to　son　for　more　than　three　hundred　years；　and　he　would　have

cared　for　me　merely　as　his　flesh　and　blood　that　was　to　inherit　the

land　after　him。　　But　he　needed　something　to　love；　for　all　that；　to

most　people；　he　was　a　stern；　hard　man；　and　he　took　to　me　as；　I　fancy；

he　had　taken　to　no　human　being　beforeas　he　might　have　taken　to　my

mother；　if　she　had　had　no　former　life　for　him　to　be　jealous　of。　　I

loved　him　back　again　right　heartily。　　I　loved　all　around　me；　I

believe；　for　everybody　was　kind　to　me。　　After　a　time；　I　overcame　my

original　weakness　of　constitution；　and　was　just　a　bonny；　strong…

looking　lad　whom　every　passer…by　noticed；　when　my　father　took　me　with

him　to　the　nearest　town。



At　home　I　was　the　darling　of　my　aunt；　the　tenderly…beloved　of　my

father；　the　pet　and　plaything　of　the　old　domestics；　the　〃young

master〃　of　the　farm…labourers；　before　whom　I　played　many　a　lordly

antic；　assuming　a　sort　of　authority　which　sat　oddly　enough；　I　doubt

not；　on　such　a　baby　as　I　was。



Gregory　was　three　years　older　than　I。　　Aunt　Fanny　was　always　kind　to

him　in　deed　and　in　action；　but　she　did　not　often　think　about　him；　she

had　fallen　so　completely　into　the　habit　of　being　engrossed　by　me；

from　the　fact　of　my　having　come　into　her　charge　as　a　delicate　baby。

My　father　never　got　over　his　grudging　dislike　to　his　stepson；　who　had

so　innocently　wrestled　with　him　for　the　possession　of　my　mother's

heart。　　I　mistrust　me；　too；　that　my　father　always　considered　him　as

the　cause　of　my　mother's　death　and　my　early　delicacy；　and　utterly

unreasonable　as　this　may　seem；　I　believe　my　father　rather　cherished

his　feeling　of　alienation　to　my　brother　as　a　duty；　than　strove　to

repress　it。　　Yet　not　for　the　world　would　my　father　have　grudged　him

anything　that　money　could　purchase。　　That　was；　as　it　were；　in　the

bond　when　he　had　wedded　my　mother。　　Gregory　was　lumpish　and　loutish；

awkward　and　ungainly；　marring　whatever　he　meddled　in；　and　many　a　hard

word　and　sharp　scolding　did　he　get　from　the　people　about　the　farm；

who　hardly　waited　till　my　father's　back　was　turned　before　they　rated

the　stepson。　　I　am　ashamedmy　heart　is　sore　to　think　how　I　fell　into

the　fashion　of　the　family；　and　slighted　my　poor　orphan　step…brother。

I　don't　think　I　ever　scouted　him；　or　was　wilfully　ill…natured　to　him；

but　the　habit　of　being　considered　in　all　things；　and　being　treated　as

something　uncommon　and　superior；　made　me　insolent　in　my　prosperity；

and　I　exacted　more　than　Gregory　was　always　willing　to　grant；　and

then；　irritated；　I　sometimes　repeated　the　disparaging　words　I　had

heard　others　use　with　regard　to　him；　without　fully　understanding

their　meaning。　　Whether　he　did　or　not　I　cannot　tell。　　I　am　afraid　he

did。　　He　used　to　turn　silent　and　quietsullen　and　sulky；　my　father

thought　it：　　stupid；　aunt　Fanny　used　to　call　it。　　But　every　one　said

he　was　stupid　and　dull；　and　this　stupidity　and　dullness　grew　upon

him。　　He　would　sit　without　speaking　a　word；　sometimes；　for　hours；

then　my　father　would　bid　him　rise　and　do　some　piece　of　work；　maybe；

about　the　farm。　　And　he　would　take　three　or　four　tellings　before　he

would　go。　　When　we　were　sent　to　school；　it　was　all　the　same。　　He

could　never　be　made　to　remember　his　lessons；　the　school…master　grew

weary　of　scolding　and　flogging；　and　at　last　advised　my　father　just　to

take　him　away；　and　set　him　to　some　farm…work　that　might　not　be　above

his　comprehension。　　I　think　he　was　more　gloomy　and　stupid　than　ever

after　this；　yet　he　was　not　a　cross　lad；　he　was　patient　and　good…

natured；　and　would　try　to　do　a　kind　turn　for　any　one；　even　if　they

had　been　scolding　or　cuffing　him　not　a　minute　before。　　But　very　often

his　attempts　at　kindness　ended　in　some　mischief　to　the　very　people　he

was　trying　to　serve；　owing　to　his　awkward；　ungainly　ways。　　I　suppose

I　was　a　clever　lad；　at　any　rate；　I　always　got　plenty　of　praise；　and

was；　as　we　called　it；　the　cock　of　the　school。　　The　schoolmaster　said

I　could　learn　anything　I　chose；　but　my　father；　who　had　no　great

learning　himself；　saw　little　use　in　much　for　me；　and　took　me　away

betimes；　and　kept　me　with　him　about　the　farm。　　Gregory　was　made　into

a　kind　of　shepherd；　receiving　his　training　under　old　Adam；　who　was

nearly　past　his　work。　　I　think　old　Adam　was　almost　the　first　person

who　had　a　good　opinion　of　Gregory。　　He　stood　to　it　that　my　brother

had　good　parts；　though　he　did　not　rightly　know　how　to　bring　them　out；

and；　for　knowing　the　bearings　of　the　Fells；　he　said　he　had　never　seen

a　lad　like　him。　　My　father　would　try　to　bring　Adam　round　to　speak　of

Gregory's　faults　and　shortcomings；　but；　instead　of　that；　he　would

praise　him　twice　as　much；　as　soon　as　he　found　out　what　was　my

father's　object。



One　winter…time；　when　I　was　about　sixteen；　and　Gregory　nineteen；　I

was　sent　by　my　father　on　an　errand　to　a　place　about　seven　miles

distant　by　the　road；　but　only　about　four　by　the　Fells。　　He　bade　me

return　by　the　road；　whichever　way　I　took　in　going；　for　the　evenings

closed　in　early；　and　were　often　thick　and　misty；　besides　which；　old

Adam；　now　paralytic　and　bedridden；　foretold　a　downfall　of　snow　before

long。　　I　soon　got　to　my　journey's　end；　and　soon　had　done　my　business；

earlier　by　an　hour；　I　thought；　than　my　father　had　expected；　so　I　took

the　decision　of　the　way　by　which　I　would　return　into　my　own　hands；

and　set　off　back　again　over　the　Fells；　just　as　the　first　shades　of

evening　began　to　fall。　　It　looked　dark　and　gloomy　enough；　but

everything　was　so　still　that　I　thought　I　should　have　plenty　of　time

to　get　home　before　the　snow　came　down。　　Off　I　set　at　a　pretty　quick

pace。　　But　night　came　on　quicker。　　The　right　path　was　clear　enough　in

the　day…time；　although　at　several　points　two　or　three　exactly　similar

diverged　from　the　same　place；　but　when　there　was　a　good　light；　the

traveller　was　guided　by　the　sight　of　distant　objects；a　piece　of

rock；a　fall　in　the　groundwhich　were　quite　invisible　to　me　now。　　I

plucked　up　a　brave　heart；　however；　and　took　what　seemed　to　me　the

right　road。　　It　was　wrong；　nevertheless；　and　led　me　whither　I　knew

not；　but　to　some　wild　boggy　moor　where　the　solitude　seemed　painful；

intense；　as　if　never　footfall　of　man　had　come　thither　to　break　the

silence。　　I　tried　to　shoutwith　the　dimmest　possible　hope　of　being

heardrather　to　reassure　myself　by　the　sound　of　my　own　voice；　but　my

voice　came　husky　and　short；　and　yet　it　dismayed　me；　it　seemed　so

weird　and　strange；　in　that　noiseless　expanse　of　black　darkness。

Suddenly　the　air　was　filled　thick　with　dusky　flakes；　my　face　and

hands　were　wet　with　snow。　　It　cut　me　off　from　the　slightest　knowledge

of　where　I　was；　for　I　lost　every　idea　of　the　direction　from　which　I

had　come；　so　that　I　could　not　even　retrace　my　steps；　it　hemmed　me　in；

thicker；　thicker；　with　a　darkness　that　might　be　felt。　　The　boggy　soil

on　which　I　stood　quaked　under　me　if　I　remained　long　in　one　place；　and

yet　I　dared　not　move　far。　　All　my　youthful　hardiness　seemed　to　leave

me　at　once。　　I　was　on　the　point　of　crying；　and　only　very　shame　seemed

to　keep　it　down。　　To　save　myself　from　shedding　tears；