March 18, 2022 • 23 mins
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Chapter eighteen. The next day hedid not leave the house, and indeed
spent most of the time in hisown room, sick with a wild terror
of dying, and yet indifferent tolife itself. The consciousness of being hunted,
(00:21):
snared, tracked down had begun todominate him. If the tapestry did
but tremble in the wind, heshook. The dead leaves that were blown
against the leaded panes seemed to himlike his own wasted resolutions and wild regrets.
When he closed his eyes, hesaw again the sailor's face peering through
(00:46):
the mist stained glass, and horrorseemed once more to lay its hand upon
his heart. But perhaps it hadbeen only his fancy that had called then
juts out of the night and setthe hideous shapes of punishment before him.
Actual life was chaos, but therewas something terribly logical in the imagination.
(01:12):
It was the imagination that set remorseto dog the feet of sin. It
was the imagination that made each crimebare its misshapen brood. In the common
world of fact, the wicked werenot punished, nor the good rewarded.
(01:34):
Success was given to the strong.Failure thrust upon the weak. That was
all Besides, had any stranger beenprowling round the house, he would have
been seen by the servants or thekeepers. Had any footmarks been found on
the flower beds, the gardeners wouldhave reported it. Yes, it had
(01:57):
been merely fancy. Sybil Vane's brotherhad not come back to kill him.
He had sailed away in his shipto founder in some winter sea from him.
At any rate, he was safe. Why the man did not know
who he was, could not knowwho he was. The mask of youth
(02:22):
had saved him. And yet ifit had been merely an illusion, how
terrible it was to think that consciencecould raise such fearful phantoms and give them
visible form, and make them movebefore one. What sort of life would
(02:42):
be his if day and night shadowsof his crime were to peer at him
from silent corners, to mock himfrom secret places, to whisper in his
ear as he sat at the feast, to wake him with icy fingers as
he lay asleep. As the thoughtcrept through his brain, he grew pale
(03:07):
with terror, and the air seemedto him to have become suddenly colder.
Ah, In what a wild hourof madness he had killed his friend?
How ghastly the mere memory of thescene, he saw it all again.
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Each hideous detail came back to himwith added horror. Out of the black
cave of time, terrible and swathedin scarlet, rose the image of his
sin. When Lord Henry came inat six o'clock, he found him crying,
as one whose heart will break.It was not till the third day
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that he ventured to go out.There was something in the clear, pine
scented air of that winter morning thatseemed to bring him back his joyousness and
his ardor for life. But itwas not merely the physical conditions of environment
that it caused the change. Hisown nature had revolted against the excess of
(04:17):
anguish that had sought to maim andmar the perfection of its calm, with
subtle and finely wrought temperaments. Itis always so, their strong passions must
either bruise or bend. They eitherslave the man or themselves die. Shallow
(04:40):
sorrows and shallow loves live on theloves, and sorrows that are great are
destroyed by their own plenitude. Besides, he had convinced himself that he had
been the victim of a terror strickenimagination, and look'd back now on his
fears with something of pity and nota little of contempt. After breakfast,
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he walked with the Duchess for anhour in the garden, and then drove
across the park to join the shootingparty. The crisp frost lay like salt
upon the grass. The sky wasan inverted cup of blue metal. A
thin film of ice bordered the flat, reed grown lake. At the corner
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of the pine wood, he caughtsight of Sir Jeoffrey Clouston, the Duchess's
brother, jerking two spent cartridges outof his gun. He jumped from the
cart, and, having told thegroom to take the Mayor home, made
his way towards his guest through thewithered bracken and rough undergrows. Have you
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had good sport, Geoffrey, heasked, Not very good, Dorian,
I think most of the birds havegone to the open. I dare say
it will be better after lunch,when we get to new ground. Urian
strolled along by his side, thekeen aromatic air, the brown and red
lights that glimmered in the wood,the hoarse cries of the beaters ringing out
(06:15):
from time to time, and thesharp snaps of the guns that followed fascinated
him and filled him with a senseof delightful freedom. He was dominated by
the carelessness of happiness, by thehigh indifference of joy. Suddenly, from
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a lumpy tussock of old grass,some twenty yards in front of them,
with black tipped ears erect and longhinder limbs, throwing it forward, started
a hare. It bolted for athicket of alders. Sir Jeoffrey put his
gun to his shoulder, but therewas something in the animal's grace of moon
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movement that strangely charmed Dorian Gray,and he cried out at once, don't
shoot, to Geoffrey, let itlive. What nonsense, Dorian laughed his
companion, and as the hare boundedinto the thicket, he fired. There
were two cries heard, the cryof a hare in pain, which is
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dreadful, the cry of a manin agony, which is worse. Good
Heavens, I have hit a beater, exclaimed Sir Jeoffrey. What an ass
the man was to get in frontof the guns. Stop shooting there,
he called out, at the topof his voice, A man is hurt.
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The head keeper came running up witha stick in his hand. Where
sir, where is he? Heshouted? At the same time the firing
ceased along the line. Here,answered Sir Jeoffrey, angrily, hurrying towards
the thicket. Why on earth don'tyou keep your men back? Spoiled by
shooting for the day, Dorian watchedthem as they plunged into the alder clump,
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brushing the lithe swinging branches aside.In a few moments, they emerged,
dragging a body after them into thesunlight. He turned away in horror.
It seemed to him that misfortune followedwherever he went. He heard Sir
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Jeoffrey ask if the man was reallydead, and the affirmative answer of the
keeper. The woods seemed to himto have become suddenly alive with faces.
There was the trampling of myriad feetand the low buzz of voices. A
great copper breasted pheasant came beating throughthe boughs overhead. After a few moments
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that were to him, in hisperturbed state, like endless hours of pain,
he felt a hand laid on hisshoulder. He started and looked round.
Dorian said, Lord Henry, I'dbetter tell them that the shooting has
stopped for to day. It wouldnot look well to go on. I
wish it were stopped for ever,Harry. He answered bitterly. The whole
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thing is hideous and cruel is theman. He could not finish the sentence.
I'm afraid, so rejoined Lord Henry. He got the whole charge of
shot in his chest. He musthave died almost instantaneously. Come let us
go home. They walked side byside in the direction of the avenue for
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nearly fifty yards without speaking. ThenDorian looked at Lord Henry and said,
with a heavy sigh, it isa bad ermine, Harry, a very
bad ermine. What is asked LordHenry, Oh, this accident, I
suppose, my dear fellow, itcan't be helped. It was the man's
own fault. Why did he getin front of the guns? Besides,
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it is nothing to us. Itis rather awkward for Geoffrey. Of course,
it does not do to pepper beaters. It makes people think that one
is a wild shot, and Geoffreyis not. He shoots very straight.
But there is no use talking aboutthe matter. Dorian shook his head.
It is a bad ermine, Harry. I feel if something horrible will be
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going to happen to some of us, to myself, perhaps, he added,
passing his hand over his eyes witha gesture of pain. The elder
man laughed. The only horrible thingin the world is on we, Dorian.
That is the one sin for whichthere is no forgiveness. But we
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are not likely to suffer from it. Unless these fellows keep chattering about this
thing at dinner, I must tellthem that the subject is to be tabooed.
As for omens, there is nosuch thing as an omen. Destiny
does not send us heralds. Sheis too wise or too cruel for that.
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Besides, what on earth could happento you, Dorian? You have
everything in the world that a mancan want. There is no one who
would not be delighted to change placeswith you. There is no one with
him. I would not change places, Harry, don't laugh like that.
I am telling you the truth.The wretched peasant who has just died is
better off than I am. Ihave no terror of death. It is
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the coming of death that terrifies me. Its monstrous wings seem to wheel in
the leaden air around me. GoodHeavens, don't you see a man moving
behind the trees there watching me,waiting for me. Lord Henry looked in
the direction in which the trembling glovedhand was pointing yes, he said,
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smiling, I see the gardener waitingfor you. I suppose he wants to
ask you what flowers you wish tohave on the table to night. How
absurdly nervous you are, my dearfellow. You must come and see my
doctor when we get back to town. Dorian heaved a sigh of relief as
he saw the gardener approaching. Theman touched his hat, glanced for a
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moment at Lord Henry in a hesitatingmanner, and then produced a letter,
which he handed to his master.Her Grace told me to wait for an
answer, he murmured. Dorian putthe letter into his pocket. Tell her
Grace that I am coming in,he said coldly. The man turned round
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and went rapidly in the direction ofthe house. How fond women are of
doing dangerous things, laughed Lord Henry. It is one of the qualities in
them that I admire most. Awoman will flirt with anybody in the world
as long as other people are lookingon. How fond you are of saying
dangerous things. In the present instance, you are quite astray. I like
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the Duchess very much, but Idon't love her. And the Duchess loves
you very much, but she likesyou less. So you are excellently matched.
You are talking scandal, Harry,and there is never any basis for
scandal. The basis of every scandalis an immoral certainty, said Lord Henry,
lighting a cigarette. You would sacrificeanybody, Harry, for the shake
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of an epigram. The world goesto the altar of its own accord,
was the answer. I wish Icould love, cried Dorian Gray, with
a deep note of pathos in hisvoice. But I seem to have lost
the passion and forgotten the desire.I am too much concentrated on myself.
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My own personality has become a burdento me. I want to escape,
to go away, to forget.It was silly of me to come down
here at all. I think Ishall send a why to Harvey to have
the yacht got ready. On ayacht, one is safe, safe from
what, Dorian, you are insome trouble. Why not tell me what
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it is? You know I wouldhelp you. I can't tell you,
Harry, he answered sadly. AndI dare say it is only a fancy
of mine. This unfortunate accident hasupset me. I have a horrible presentiment
that something of the kind may happento me. What nonsense. I hope
it is, but I can't helpfeeling it. Ah, here is the
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Duchess, looking like Artemis in atailor made gown. You see, we
have come back, Duchess. Ihave heard all about it, mister Gray,
she answered, Poor Geoffrey is terriblyupset. And it seems that she
asked him not to shoot the hair. How curious, Yes, it was
very curious. I don't know whatmade me say it, some whim.
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I suppose it looked the loveliest oflittle live things. But I am sorry
they told you about at the man. It is a hideous subject. It
is an annoying subject, broke inLord Henry. It has no psychological value
at all. Now if Jeffrey haddone the thing on purpose, how interesting
he would be. I should liketo know someone who had committed a real
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murder. How horrid of you,Harry cried the Duchess, isn't it,
mister Gray? Harry, mister Gray'seel again he's going to faint. It
is nothing, Duchess, he murmured. My nerves are dreadfully out of order,
that is all. I'm afraid.I walked too far this morning.
I didn't hear what Harry said.Was it very bad? You must tell
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me some other time. I thinkI must go and lie down. You
would excuse me, won't you.They had reached the great flight of steps
that led from the conservatory on tothe terrace. As the glass door closed
behind Dorian, Lord Henry turned andlooked to Duchess with his slumberous eyes.
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Are you very much in love withhim? He asked. She did not
answer for some time, but stoodgazing at the landscape. I wish I
knew, she said. At last, he shook his head. Knowledge would
be fatal. It is the uncertaintythat charms one. A mist makes things
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wonderful. One may lose one's wayalways end at the same point. My
dear gladys, what is that disillusion? It was my debut in life,
she sighed. It came to you, crowned. I am tired of strawberry
leaves. They become you only inpublic. You would miss them, said
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Lord Henry. I will not partwith a pittil Monmouth has ears old age
is dull of hearing. Has henever been jealous? I wish he had
been. He glanced about, asif in search of something. What are
you looking for? She inquired?The button from your foil? He answered,
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you have dropped it. She laughed, I have still the mask.
It makes your eyes lovelier, washis reply. She laughed again. Her
teeth showed like white seeds in ascarlet fruit. Upstairs, in his own
room, Dorian Gray was lying ona sofa with terror in every tingling fiber
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of his body. Life had suddenlybecome too hideous a burden for him to
bear. The dreadful death of theunlucky beater shot in the thicket like a
wild animal, it seems to himto prefigure death for himself. Also,
he had nearly swooned at what LordHenry had said, in a chance mood
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of cynical jesting. At five o'clockhe rang his bell for his servant and
gave him orders to pack his thingsfor the night, express to town,
and to have the brewerm at thedoor. By eight thirty he was determined
not to sleep another night at SelbyRoyal It was an ill omened place death
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walked there in the sunlight. Thegrass of the forest had been spotted with
blood. Then he wrote a noteto Lord Henry, telling him that he
was going up to town to consulthis doctor and asking him to entertain his
guests in his absence. As hewas putting it into the envelope, a
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knock came to the door, andhis valet informed him that the head keeper
wished to see him. He frownedand bit his lip. Send him in,
he muttered, after some moment's hesitation. As soon as the man entered,
Dorian pulled his checkbook out of adrawer and spread it out before him.
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I suppose you've come about that unfortunateaccident of this morning, Thornton,
he said, taking up a pen. Yes, sir, answered the gamekeeper.
Was the poor fellow married? Hadhe any people dependent on him?
Asked Dorian, looking bored, Ifsir, I should not like them to
be left in want, and willsend them any sum of money you may
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think necessary. We don't know whohe is, sir. That is what
I took the liberty of coming toyou about. Don't know who he is,
said Dorian listlessly. What do youmean, wasn't he one of your
men? No, sir, neversaw him before. Seems like a sailor,
sir. The pen dropped from DorianGray's hand, and he felt as
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if his heart had suddenly stopped beatingthe sailor. He cried out, you
see a sailor, Yes, sir, he looks as if he had been
a sort of sailor. Tattooed onboth arms and that kind of thing.
Was there anything found on him?Said Dorian, leaning forward and looking at
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the man with startled eyes. Anythingthat would tell his name. Some money,
sir, not much, and asick shooter. There was no name
of any kind. A dacent lookingman, sir, but rough, like
a sort of sailor, we think. Dorian started to his feet. A
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terrible hope fluttered past him. Heclutched at it madly. Where is the
body, he exclaimed, quick,I must see it at once. It
is in an empty stable in thehome farm, sir. The folk don't
like to have that sort of thingin their houses, They say a corpse
brings bad luck the home farm.Go there at once and meet me.
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Tell one of the grooms to bringmy horse around. No, never mind,
or go to the stables myself.It will save time. In less
than a quarter of an hour,Dorian Gray was galloping down the long avenue
as hard as he could go.The trees seemed to sweep past him in
spectral procession, and wild shadows tofling themselves across his path. Once the
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mare swerved at a white gate postand nearly threw him. He lashed her
across her neck with his crop.She cleft the dusky air like an arrow.
The stones flew from her hoofs Atlast he reached the home farm.
Two men were loitering in the yard. He leaped from the saddle and threw
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the reins to one of them.In the farthest stable, a light was
glimmering. Something seemed to tell himthat the body was there, and he
hurried to the door and put hishand upon the latch. There he paused
for a moment, feeling that hewas on the brink of a discovery that
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would either make or mar his life. Then he thrust the door open and
entered on a heap of sacking.In the far corner was lying the dead
body of a man dressed in acoarse shirt and a pair of blue trousers,
A spotted handkerchief had been placed overthe face. A coarse candle stuck
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in a bottle sputtered beside it.Dorrian Gray shuddered. He felt that his
could not be the hand to takethe handkerchief away, and called out to
one of the farm servants to cometo him take that thing off the face.
I wish to see it, hesaid, clutching at the doorpost for
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support. When the farm servant haddone so, he forward, a cry
of joy broke from his lips.The man who had been shot in the
thicket was James Vain. He stoodthere for some minutes, looking at the
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dead body. As he rode home, his eyes were full of tears,
for he knew he was safe.End of Chapter eighteen.
Chapter eighteen. The next day hedid not leave the house, and indeed
spent most of the time in hisown room, sick with a wild terror
of dying, and yet indifferent tolife itself. The consciousness of being hunted,
(00:21):
snared, tracked down had begun todominate him. If the tapestry did
but tremble in the wind, heshook. The dead leaves that were blown
against the leaded panes seemed to himlike his own wasted resolutions and wild regrets.
When he closed his eyes, hesaw again the sailor's face peering through
(00:46):
the mist stained glass, and horrorseemed once more to lay its hand upon
his heart. But perhaps it hadbeen only his fancy that had called then
juts out of the night and setthe hideous shapes of punishment before him.
Actual life was chaos, but therewas something terribly logical in the imagination.
(01:12):
It was the imagination that set remorseto dog the feet of sin. It
was the imagination that made each crimebare its misshapen brood. In the common
world of fact, the wicked werenot punished, nor the good rewarded.
(01:34):
Success was given to the strong.Failure thrust upon the weak. That was
all Besides, had any stranger beenprowling round the house, he would have
been seen by the servants or thekeepers. Had any footmarks been found on
the flower beds, the gardeners wouldhave reported it. Yes, it had
(01:57):
been merely fancy. Sybil Vane's brotherhad not come back to kill him.
He had sailed away in his shipto founder in some winter sea from him.
At any rate, he was safe. Why the man did not know
who he was, could not knowwho he was. The mask of youth
(02:22):
had saved him. And yet ifit had been merely an illusion, how
terrible it was to think that consciencecould raise such fearful phantoms and give them
visible form, and make them movebefore one. What sort of life would
(02:42):
be his if day and night shadowsof his crime were to peer at him
from silent corners, to mock himfrom secret places, to whisper in his
ear as he sat at the feast, to wake him with icy fingers as
he lay asleep. As the thoughtcrept through his brain, he grew pale
(03:07):
with terror, and the air seemedto him to have become suddenly colder.
Ah, In what a wild hourof madness he had killed his friend?
How ghastly the mere memory of thescene, he saw it all again.
(03:28):
Each hideous detail came back to himwith added horror. Out of the black
cave of time, terrible and swathedin scarlet, rose the image of his
sin. When Lord Henry came inat six o'clock, he found him crying,
as one whose heart will break.It was not till the third day
(03:53):
that he ventured to go out.There was something in the clear, pine
scented air of that winter morning thatseemed to bring him back his joyousness and
his ardor for life. But itwas not merely the physical conditions of environment
that it caused the change. Hisown nature had revolted against the excess of
(04:17):
anguish that had sought to maim andmar the perfection of its calm, with
subtle and finely wrought temperaments. Itis always so, their strong passions must
either bruise or bend. They eitherslave the man or themselves die. Shallow
(04:40):
sorrows and shallow loves live on theloves, and sorrows that are great are
destroyed by their own plenitude. Besides, he had convinced himself that he had
been the victim of a terror strickenimagination, and look'd back now on his
fears with something of pity and nota little of contempt. After breakfast,
(05:09):
he walked with the Duchess for anhour in the garden, and then drove
across the park to join the shootingparty. The crisp frost lay like salt
upon the grass. The sky wasan inverted cup of blue metal. A
thin film of ice bordered the flat, reed grown lake. At the corner
(05:31):
of the pine wood, he caughtsight of Sir Jeoffrey Clouston, the Duchess's
brother, jerking two spent cartridges outof his gun. He jumped from the
cart, and, having told thegroom to take the Mayor home, made
his way towards his guest through thewithered bracken and rough undergrows. Have you
(05:53):
had good sport, Geoffrey, heasked, Not very good, Dorian,
I think most of the birds havegone to the open. I dare say
it will be better after lunch,when we get to new ground. Urian
strolled along by his side, thekeen aromatic air, the brown and red
lights that glimmered in the wood,the hoarse cries of the beaters ringing out
(06:15):
from time to time, and thesharp snaps of the guns that followed fascinated
him and filled him with a senseof delightful freedom. He was dominated by
the carelessness of happiness, by thehigh indifference of joy. Suddenly, from
(06:38):
a lumpy tussock of old grass,some twenty yards in front of them,
with black tipped ears erect and longhinder limbs, throwing it forward, started
a hare. It bolted for athicket of alders. Sir Jeoffrey put his
gun to his shoulder, but therewas something in the animal's grace of moon
(07:00):
movement that strangely charmed Dorian Gray,and he cried out at once, don't
shoot, to Geoffrey, let itlive. What nonsense, Dorian laughed his
companion, and as the hare boundedinto the thicket, he fired. There
were two cries heard, the cryof a hare in pain, which is
(07:21):
dreadful, the cry of a manin agony, which is worse. Good
Heavens, I have hit a beater, exclaimed Sir Jeoffrey. What an ass
the man was to get in frontof the guns. Stop shooting there,
he called out, at the topof his voice, A man is hurt.
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The head keeper came running up witha stick in his hand. Where
sir, where is he? Heshouted? At the same time the firing
ceased along the line. Here,answered Sir Jeoffrey, angrily, hurrying towards
the thicket. Why on earth don'tyou keep your men back? Spoiled by
shooting for the day, Dorian watchedthem as they plunged into the alder clump,
(08:07):
brushing the lithe swinging branches aside.In a few moments, they emerged,
dragging a body after them into thesunlight. He turned away in horror.
It seemed to him that misfortune followedwherever he went. He heard Sir
(08:28):
Jeoffrey ask if the man was reallydead, and the affirmative answer of the
keeper. The woods seemed to himto have become suddenly alive with faces.
There was the trampling of myriad feetand the low buzz of voices. A
great copper breasted pheasant came beating throughthe boughs overhead. After a few moments
(08:54):
that were to him, in hisperturbed state, like endless hours of pain,
he felt a hand laid on hisshoulder. He started and looked round.
Dorian said, Lord Henry, I'dbetter tell them that the shooting has
stopped for to day. It wouldnot look well to go on. I
wish it were stopped for ever,Harry. He answered bitterly. The whole
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thing is hideous and cruel is theman. He could not finish the sentence.
I'm afraid, so rejoined Lord Henry. He got the whole charge of
shot in his chest. He musthave died almost instantaneously. Come let us
go home. They walked side byside in the direction of the avenue for
(09:41):
nearly fifty yards without speaking. ThenDorian looked at Lord Henry and said,
with a heavy sigh, it isa bad ermine, Harry, a very
bad ermine. What is asked LordHenry, Oh, this accident, I
suppose, my dear fellow, itcan't be helped. It was the man's
own fault. Why did he getin front of the guns? Besides,
(10:05):
it is nothing to us. Itis rather awkward for Geoffrey. Of course,
it does not do to pepper beaters. It makes people think that one
is a wild shot, and Geoffreyis not. He shoots very straight.
But there is no use talking aboutthe matter. Dorian shook his head.
It is a bad ermine, Harry. I feel if something horrible will be
(10:26):
going to happen to some of us, to myself, perhaps, he added,
passing his hand over his eyes witha gesture of pain. The elder
man laughed. The only horrible thingin the world is on we, Dorian.
That is the one sin for whichthere is no forgiveness. But we
(10:48):
are not likely to suffer from it. Unless these fellows keep chattering about this
thing at dinner, I must tellthem that the subject is to be tabooed.
As for omens, there is nosuch thing as an omen. Destiny
does not send us heralds. Sheis too wise or too cruel for that.
(11:09):
Besides, what on earth could happento you, Dorian? You have
everything in the world that a mancan want. There is no one who
would not be delighted to change placeswith you. There is no one with
him. I would not change places, Harry, don't laugh like that.
I am telling you the truth.The wretched peasant who has just died is
better off than I am. Ihave no terror of death. It is
(11:33):
the coming of death that terrifies me. Its monstrous wings seem to wheel in
the leaden air around me. GoodHeavens, don't you see a man moving
behind the trees there watching me,waiting for me. Lord Henry looked in
the direction in which the trembling glovedhand was pointing yes, he said,
(11:54):
smiling, I see the gardener waitingfor you. I suppose he wants to
ask you what flowers you wish tohave on the table to night. How
absurdly nervous you are, my dearfellow. You must come and see my
doctor when we get back to town. Dorian heaved a sigh of relief as
he saw the gardener approaching. Theman touched his hat, glanced for a
(12:16):
moment at Lord Henry in a hesitatingmanner, and then produced a letter,
which he handed to his master.Her Grace told me to wait for an
answer, he murmured. Dorian putthe letter into his pocket. Tell her
Grace that I am coming in,he said coldly. The man turned round
(12:39):
and went rapidly in the direction ofthe house. How fond women are of
doing dangerous things, laughed Lord Henry. It is one of the qualities in
them that I admire most. Awoman will flirt with anybody in the world
as long as other people are lookingon. How fond you are of saying
dangerous things. In the present instance, you are quite astray. I like
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the Duchess very much, but Idon't love her. And the Duchess loves
you very much, but she likesyou less. So you are excellently matched.
You are talking scandal, Harry,and there is never any basis for
scandal. The basis of every scandalis an immoral certainty, said Lord Henry,
lighting a cigarette. You would sacrificeanybody, Harry, for the shake
(13:26):
of an epigram. The world goesto the altar of its own accord,
was the answer. I wish Icould love, cried Dorian Gray, with
a deep note of pathos in hisvoice. But I seem to have lost
the passion and forgotten the desire.I am too much concentrated on myself.
(13:48):
My own personality has become a burdento me. I want to escape,
to go away, to forget.It was silly of me to come down
here at all. I think Ishall send a why to Harvey to have
the yacht got ready. On ayacht, one is safe, safe from
what, Dorian, you are insome trouble. Why not tell me what
(14:09):
it is? You know I wouldhelp you. I can't tell you,
Harry, he answered sadly. AndI dare say it is only a fancy
of mine. This unfortunate accident hasupset me. I have a horrible presentiment
that something of the kind may happento me. What nonsense. I hope
it is, but I can't helpfeeling it. Ah, here is the
(14:31):
Duchess, looking like Artemis in atailor made gown. You see, we
have come back, Duchess. Ihave heard all about it, mister Gray,
she answered, Poor Geoffrey is terriblyupset. And it seems that she
asked him not to shoot the hair. How curious, Yes, it was
very curious. I don't know whatmade me say it, some whim.
(14:54):
I suppose it looked the loveliest oflittle live things. But I am sorry
they told you about at the man. It is a hideous subject. It
is an annoying subject, broke inLord Henry. It has no psychological value
at all. Now if Jeffrey haddone the thing on purpose, how interesting
he would be. I should liketo know someone who had committed a real
(15:18):
murder. How horrid of you,Harry cried the Duchess, isn't it,
mister Gray? Harry, mister Gray'seel again he's going to faint. It
is nothing, Duchess, he murmured. My nerves are dreadfully out of order,
that is all. I'm afraid.I walked too far this morning.
I didn't hear what Harry said.Was it very bad? You must tell
(15:41):
me some other time. I thinkI must go and lie down. You
would excuse me, won't you.They had reached the great flight of steps
that led from the conservatory on tothe terrace. As the glass door closed
behind Dorian, Lord Henry turned andlooked to Duchess with his slumberous eyes.
(16:03):
Are you very much in love withhim? He asked. She did not
answer for some time, but stoodgazing at the landscape. I wish I
knew, she said. At last, he shook his head. Knowledge would
be fatal. It is the uncertaintythat charms one. A mist makes things
(16:25):
wonderful. One may lose one's wayalways end at the same point. My
dear gladys, what is that disillusion? It was my debut in life,
she sighed. It came to you, crowned. I am tired of strawberry
leaves. They become you only inpublic. You would miss them, said
(16:47):
Lord Henry. I will not partwith a pittil Monmouth has ears old age
is dull of hearing. Has henever been jealous? I wish he had
been. He glanced about, asif in search of something. What are
you looking for? She inquired?The button from your foil? He answered,
(17:07):
you have dropped it. She laughed, I have still the mask.
It makes your eyes lovelier, washis reply. She laughed again. Her
teeth showed like white seeds in ascarlet fruit. Upstairs, in his own
room, Dorian Gray was lying ona sofa with terror in every tingling fiber
(17:32):
of his body. Life had suddenlybecome too hideous a burden for him to
bear. The dreadful death of theunlucky beater shot in the thicket like a
wild animal, it seems to himto prefigure death for himself. Also,
he had nearly swooned at what LordHenry had said, in a chance mood
(17:56):
of cynical jesting. At five o'clockhe rang his bell for his servant and
gave him orders to pack his thingsfor the night, express to town,
and to have the brewerm at thedoor. By eight thirty he was determined
not to sleep another night at SelbyRoyal It was an ill omened place death
(18:22):
walked there in the sunlight. Thegrass of the forest had been spotted with
blood. Then he wrote a noteto Lord Henry, telling him that he
was going up to town to consulthis doctor and asking him to entertain his
guests in his absence. As hewas putting it into the envelope, a
(18:45):
knock came to the door, andhis valet informed him that the head keeper
wished to see him. He frownedand bit his lip. Send him in,
he muttered, after some moment's hesitation. As soon as the man entered,
Dorian pulled his checkbook out of adrawer and spread it out before him.
(19:07):
I suppose you've come about that unfortunateaccident of this morning, Thornton,
he said, taking up a pen. Yes, sir, answered the gamekeeper.
Was the poor fellow married? Hadhe any people dependent on him?
Asked Dorian, looking bored, Ifsir, I should not like them to
be left in want, and willsend them any sum of money you may
(19:29):
think necessary. We don't know whohe is, sir. That is what
I took the liberty of coming toyou about. Don't know who he is,
said Dorian listlessly. What do youmean, wasn't he one of your
men? No, sir, neversaw him before. Seems like a sailor,
sir. The pen dropped from DorianGray's hand, and he felt as
(19:52):
if his heart had suddenly stopped beatingthe sailor. He cried out, you
see a sailor, Yes, sir, he looks as if he had been
a sort of sailor. Tattooed onboth arms and that kind of thing.
Was there anything found on him?Said Dorian, leaning forward and looking at
(20:12):
the man with startled eyes. Anythingthat would tell his name. Some money,
sir, not much, and asick shooter. There was no name
of any kind. A dacent lookingman, sir, but rough, like
a sort of sailor, we think. Dorian started to his feet. A
(20:33):
terrible hope fluttered past him. Heclutched at it madly. Where is the
body, he exclaimed, quick,I must see it at once. It
is in an empty stable in thehome farm, sir. The folk don't
like to have that sort of thingin their houses, They say a corpse
brings bad luck the home farm.Go there at once and meet me.
(20:57):
Tell one of the grooms to bringmy horse around. No, never mind,
or go to the stables myself.It will save time. In less
than a quarter of an hour,Dorian Gray was galloping down the long avenue
as hard as he could go.The trees seemed to sweep past him in
spectral procession, and wild shadows tofling themselves across his path. Once the
(21:23):
mare swerved at a white gate postand nearly threw him. He lashed her
across her neck with his crop.She cleft the dusky air like an arrow.
The stones flew from her hoofs Atlast he reached the home farm.
Two men were loitering in the yard. He leaped from the saddle and threw
(21:48):
the reins to one of them.In the farthest stable, a light was
glimmering. Something seemed to tell himthat the body was there, and he
hurried to the door and put hishand upon the latch. There he paused
for a moment, feeling that hewas on the brink of a discovery that
(22:08):
would either make or mar his life. Then he thrust the door open and
entered on a heap of sacking.In the far corner was lying the dead
body of a man dressed in acoarse shirt and a pair of blue trousers,
A spotted handkerchief had been placed overthe face. A coarse candle stuck
(22:33):
in a bottle sputtered beside it.Dorrian Gray shuddered. He felt that his
could not be the hand to takethe handkerchief away, and called out to
one of the farm servants to cometo him take that thing off the face.
I wish to see it, hesaid, clutching at the doorpost for
(22:53):
support. When the farm servant haddone so, he forward, a cry
of joy broke from his lips.The man who had been shot in the
thicket was James Vain. He stoodthere for some minutes, looking at the
(23:14):
dead body. As he rode home, his eyes were full of tears,
for he knew he was safe.End of Chapter eighteen.
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