twice-told tales- old esther dudley-第2部分

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came　the　shadows　of　the　Olivers；　the　Hutchinsons；　the　Dudleys；　all　the

grandees　of　a　by…gone　generation；　gliding　beneath　the　portal　into

the　well…known　mansion；　where　Esther　mingled　with　them　as　if　she

likewise　were　a　shade。　Without　vouching　for　the　truth　of　such

traditions；　it　is　certain　that　Mistress　Dudley　sometimes　assembled　a

few　of　the　stanch；　though　crestfallen；　old　tories；　who　had　lingered　in

the　rebel　town　during　those　days　of　wrath　and　tribulation。　Out　of　a

cobwebbed　bottle；　containing　liquor　that　a　royal　Governor　might　have

smacked　his　lips　over；　they　quaffed　healths　to　the　King；　and　babbled

treason　to　the　Republic；　feeling　as　if　the　protecting　shadow　of　the

throne　were　still　flung　around　them。　But；　draining　the　last　drops　of

their　liquor；　they　stole　timorously　homeward；　and　answered　not　again

if　the　rude　mob　reviled　them　in　the　street。

　　　Yet　Esther　Dudley's　most　frequent　and　favored　guests　were　the

children　of　the　town。　Towards　them　she　was　never　stern。　A　kindly　and

loving　nature；　hindered　elsewhere　from　its　free　course　by　a　thousand

rocky　prejudices；　lavished　itself　upon　these　little　ones。　By　bribes　of

gingerbread　of　her　own　making；　stamped　with　a　royal　crown；　she　tempted

their　sunny　sportiveness　beneath　the　gloomy　portal　of　the　Province

House；　and　would　often　beguile　them　to　spend　a　whole　playday　there；

sitting　in　a　circle　round　the　verge　of　her　hoop　petticoat；　greedily

attentive　to　her　stories　of　a　dead　world。　And　when　these　little　boys

and　girls　stole　forth　again　from　the　dark　mysterious　mansion；　they

went　bewildered；　full　of　old　feelings　that　graver　people　had　long

ago　forgotten；　rubbing　their　eyes　at　the　world　around　them　as　if

they　had　gone　astray　into　ancient　times；　and　become　children　of　the

past。　At　home；　when　their　parents　asked　where　they　had　loitered　such　a

weary　while；　and　with　whom　they　had　been　at　play；　the　children　would

talk　of　all　the　departed　worthies　of　the　Province；　as　far　back　as

Governor　Belcher　and　the　haughty　dame　of　Sir　William　Phipps。　It

would　seem　as　though　they　had　been　sitting　on　the　knees　of　these

famous　personages；　whom　the　grave　had　hidden　for　half　a　century；　and

had　toyed　with　the　embroidery　of　their　rich　waistcoats；　or　roguishly

pulled　the　long　curls　of　their　flowing　wigs。　〃But　Governor　Belcher　has

been　dead　this　many　a　year；〃　would　the　mother　say　to　her　little　boy。

〃And　did　you　really　see　him　at　the　Province　House？〃　〃Oh　yes；　dear

mother！　yes！〃　the　half…dreaming　child　would　answer。　〃But　when　old

Esther　had　done　speaking　about　him　he　faded　away　out　of　his　chair。〃

Thus；　without　affrighting　her　little　guests；　she　led　them　by　the

hand　into　the　chambers　of　her　own　desolate　heart；　and　made　childhood's

fancy　discern　the　ghosts　that　haunted　there。

　　　Living　so　continually　in　her　own　circle　of　ideas；　and　never

regulating　her　mind　by　a　proper　reference　to　present　things；　Esther

Dudley　appears　to　have　grown　partially　crazed。　It　was　found　that　she

had　no　right　sense　of　the　progress　and　true　state　of　the　Revolutionary

War；　but　held　a　constant　faith　that　the　armies　of　Britain　were

victorious　on　every　field；　and　destined　to　be　ultimately　triumphant。

Whenever　the　town　rejoiced　for　a　battle　won　by　Washington；　or　Gates；

or　Morgan；　or　Greene；　the　news；　in　passing　through　the　door　of　the

Province　House；　as　through　the　ivory　gate　of　dreams；　became

metamorphosed　into　a　strange　tale　of　the　prowess　of　Howe；　Clinton；

or　Cornwallis。　Sooner　or　later　it　was　her　invincible　belief　the

colonies　would　be　prostrate　at　the　footstool　of　the　King。　Sometimes

she　seemed　to　take　for　granted　that　such　was　already　the　case。　On

one　occasion；　she　startled　the　townspeople　by　a　brilliant　illumination

of　the　Province　House；　with　candles　at　every　pane　of　glass；　and　a

transparency　of　the　King's　initials　and　a　crown　of　light　in　the

great　balcony　window。　The　figure　of　the　aged　woman　in　the　most

gorgeous　of　her　mildewed　velvets　and　brocades　was　seen　passing　from

casement　to　casement；　until　she　paused　before　the　balcony；　and

flourished　a　huge　key　above　her　head。　Her　wrinkled　visage　actually

gleamed　with　triumph；　as　if　the　soul　within　her　were　a　festal　lamp。

　　　〃What　means　this　blaze　of　light？　What　does　old　Esther's　joy

portend？〃　whispered　a　spectator。　〃It　is　frightful　to　see　her　gliding

about　the　chambers；　and　rejoicing　there　without　a　soul　to　bear　her

company。〃

　　　〃It　is　as　if　she　were　making　merry　in　a　tomb；〃　said　another。

　　　〃Pshaw！　It　is　no　such　mystery；〃　observed　an　old　man；　after　some

brief　exercise　of　memory。　〃Mistress　Dudley　is　keeping　jubilee　for

the　King　of　England's　birthday。〃

　　　Then　the　people　laughed　aloud；　and　would　have　thrown　mud　against

the　blazing　transparency　of　the　King's　crown　and　initials；　only　that

they　pitied　the　poor　old　dame；　who　was　so　dismally　triumphant　amid　the

wreck　and　ruin　of　the　system　to　which　she　appertained。

　　　Oftentimes　it　was　her　custom　to　climb　the　weary　staircase　that

wound　upward　to　the　cupola；　and　thence　strain　her　dimmed　eyesight

seaward　and　countryward；　watching　for　a　British　fleet；　or　for　the

march　of　a　grand　procession；　with　the　King's　banner　floating　over

it。　The　passengers　in　the　street　below　would　discern　her　anxious

visage；　and　send　up　a　shout；　〃When　the　golden　Indian　on　the　Province

House　shall　shoot　his　arrow；　and　when　the　cock　on　the　Old　South

spire　shall　crow；　then　look　for　a　Royal　Governor　again！〃…　for　this　had

grown　a　byword　through　the　town。　And　at　last；　after　long；　long

years；　old　Esther　Dudley　knew；　or　perchance　she　only　dreamed；　that　a

Royal　Governor　was　on　the　eve　of　returning　to　the　Province　House　to

receive　the　heavy　key　which　Sir　William　Howe　had　committed　to　her

charge。　Now　it　was　the　fact　that　intelligence　bearing　some　faint

analogy　to　Esther's　version　of　it　was　current　among　the　townspeople。

She　set　the　mansion　in　the　best　order　that　her　means　allowed；　and；

arraying　herself　in　silks　and　tarnished　gold；　stood　long　before　the

blurred　mirror　to　admire　her　own　magnificence。　As　she　gazed；　the

gray　and　withered　lady　moved　her　ashen　lips；　murmuring　half　aloud；

talking　to　shapes　that　she　saw　within　the　mirror；　to　shadows　of　her

own　fantasies；　to　the　household　friends　of　memory；　and　bidding　them

rejoice　with　her　and　come　forth　to　meet　the　Governor。　And　while

absorbed　in　this　communion；　Mistress　Dudley　heard　the　tramp　of　many

footsteps　in　the　street；　and；　looking　out　at　the　window；　beheld　what

she　construed　as　the　Royal　Governor's　arrival。

　　　〃O　happy　day！　O　blessed；　blessed　hour！〃　she　exclaimed。　〃Let　me

but　bid　him　welcome　within　the　portal；　and　my　task　in　the　Province

House；　and　on　earth；　is　done！〃

　　　Then　with　tottering　feet；　which　age　and　tremulous　joy　caused　to

tread　amiss；　she　hurried　down　the　grand　staircase；　her　silks　sweeping

and　rustling　as　she　went；　so　that　the　sound　was　as　if　a　train　of

spectral　courtiers　were　thronging　from　the　dim　mirror。　And　Esther

Dudley　fancied　that　as　soon　as　the　wide　door　should　be　flung　open；　all

the　pomp　and　splendor　of　by…gone　times　would　pace　majestically　into

the　Province　House；　and　the　gilded　tapestry　of　the　past　would　be

brightened　by　the　sunshine　of　the　present。　She　turned　the　key…

withdrew　it　from　the　lock…　unclosed　the　door…　and　stepped　across　the

threshold。　Advancing　up　the　court…yard　appeared　a　person　of　most

dignified　mien；　with　tokens；　as　Esther　interpreted　them；　of　gentle

blood；　high　rank；　and　long…accustomed　authority；　even　in　his　walk　and

every　gesture。　He　was　richly　dressed；　but　wore　a　gouty　shoe；　which；

however；　did　not　lessen　the　stateliness　of　his　gait。　Around　and　behind

him　were　people　in　plain　civic　dresses；　and　two　or　three　war…worn

veterans；　evidently　officers　of　rank；　arrayed　in　a　uniform　of　blue　and

buff。　But　Esther　Dudley；　firm　in　the　belief　that　had　fastened　its

roots　about　her　heart；　beheld　only　the　principal　personage；　and　never

doubted　that　this　was　the　long…looked…for　Governor；　to　whom　she　was　to

surrender　up　her　charge。　As　he　approached；　she　involuntarily　sank　down

on　her　knees　and　tremblingly　held　forth　the　heavy　key。

　　　〃Receive　my　trust！　take　it　quickly！〃　cried　she；　〃for　methinks　Death

is　striving　to　snatch　away　my　triumph。　But　he　comes　too　late。　Thank

Heaven　for　this　blessed　hour！　God　save　King　George！〃

　　　〃That；　Madam；　is　a　strange　prayer　to　be　offered　up　at　such　a

moment；〃　replied　the　unknown　guest　of　the　Province　House；　and

courteously　removing　his　hat；　he　offered　his　arm　to　raise　the　aged

woman。　〃Yet；　in　reverence　for　your　gray　hairs　and　long…kept　faith；

Heaven　forbid　that　any　here　should　say　you　nay。　Over　the　realms

which　still　acknowledge　his　sceptre；　God　save　King　George！〃

　　　Esther　Dudley　started　to　her　feet；　and　hastily　clutching　back　the

key；　gazed　with　fearful　earnestness　at　the　stranger；　and　dimly　and

doubtfully；　as　if　suddenly　awakened　from　a　dream；　her　bewildered

eyes　half　recognized　his　face。　Years　ago　she　had　known　him　among　the

gentry　of　the　province。　But　the　ban　of　the　King　had　fallen　upon　him！

How；　then；　came　the　doomed　victim　here？　Proscribed；　excluded　from

mercy；　the　monarch's　most　dreaded　and　hated　foe；　this　New　England

merchant　had　stood　triumphantly　against　a　kingdom's　strength；　and

his　foot　now　trod　upon　humbled　Royalty；　as　he　ascended　the　steps　of

the　Province　House；　the　people's　chosen　Governor　of　Massachusetts。

　　　〃Wretch；　wretch　that　I　am！〃　muttered　the　old　woman；　with　such　a

heart…broken　expression　that　the　tears　gushed　from　the　stranger's

eyes。　〃Have　I　bidden　a　traitor　welcome？　Come；　Death！　come　quickly！〃

　　　〃Alas；　venerable　lady。　said　Governor　Hancock；　lending　her　his

support　with　all　the　reverence　that　a　courtier　would　have　shown　to　a

queen。　〃Your　life　has　been　prolonged　until　the　world　has　changed

around　you。　You　have　treasured　up　all　that　time　has　rendered

worthless…　the　principles；　feelings；　manners；　modes　of　being　and

acting；　which　another　generation　has　flung　aside…　and　you　are　a　symbol

of　the　past。　And　I；　and　these　around　me…　we　represent　a　new　race　of

men…　living　no　longer　in　the　past；　scarcely　in　the　present…　but

projecting　our　lives　forward　into　the　future。　Ceasing　to　model