書蟲4級(jí)《洛娜·杜恩》9．洛娜的身世

9.Lorna's true story

The Doones' attack had been defeated. We knew that they would come again, as soon as they could, in larger numbers. But for now, Jeremy Stickles gave me something else to think about. My dearest wish was to marry Lorna as soon as I could, but after Jeremy's story I began to wonder if it would ever be possible.

A few days after our battle with the Doones, Jeremy said he had something to say to me.

John, I didn't think the time was right to tell you this before. But now you must hear what I have to say. As you know, I've been riding around Exmoor for many months, looking for information that might be useful to the King. I remembered all that you told me about Lorna, and I think I have discovered something about her. It may not be easy for you to hear, John. Are you ready?'

I will do my best,' I said.

So he began his story.

Six or seven months ago, before the snows began, I stopped at an inn on my way from Dulverton to Watchet. The inn was all by itself, right by the sea, and was very quiet. I was the only person staying there, and the woman who owned the inn sat down and talked to me during my meal. She was dark and foreign-looking, and intelligent. I was very interested to know how an unusual woman like her had come to live in this lonely inn, and she told me her story.'

She said that she was from Italy, and her name was Benita. Many years ago, while she was working in Rome, she had met an English family. They were travelling in Italy because they'd had a terrible argument in England with another family. Benita did not know much about the argument, except that it had been about land.'

Benita liked this English family. They were very rich, but they were also kind. So when they asked her to travel with them and take care of their children, she agreed. She loved the children — a little girl and boy — so she was very happy in her work.'

At first everything went well. Together, Benita and the family travelled up through northern Italy and into France. But on the French side of the Pyrenees, the husband of the family had a riding accident and was killed.'

His wife was deeply unhappy, and would not move from the place where he had died for many months. But finally she decided to go home to England and try to start life again. Benita stayed with her, and they took a ship to the Devon coast. They stayed at Exeter, and then left in a coach for Watchet, in the north of Somerset. The lady had a house there, where she planned to live.'

They were warned, at Dulverton, about robbers on the roads, but the lady would not listen. She even travelled at night, which, as we know, is a very dangerous thing to do. So of course they were attacked by robbers. It happened near the sea. The coachmen drove onto the sand, and the robbers followed on their horses. The coach's wheels began to go down in the soft sand, and as the robbers came nearer, the lady pointed to one of them and said: "I know that man! He is our family's old enemy."'

Then a great wave crashed against the coach and turned it over. Benita hit her head on the door and could not remember what happened. The next thing she knew was that she was lying on the sand and the robbers had gone. She looked around for her mistress and saw her sitting on a rock, with her dead son in her arms. The little girl had disappeared. Benita and the two coachmen took the lady into the town, but later that night, she died. This is a sad story!' said Jeremy. 'Give me a drink, boy!'

I saw that there were tears in the brave man's eyes.

What was the lady's name?' I asked. 'And what happened to the little girl? And why did Benita stay there?'

I will answer the last question first,' said Jeremy. 'That's the easiest. Benita stayed in that place because the Doones — if that's who they were — stole everything from the coach, and she had no money. She could not go back to Italy. She married a man who lived near the place because he was kind and could give her a home.'

But the little girl, Jeremy. What happened to her?'

John — can't you see it? You are more likely to know than anyone in the world! As certain as I sit here, that little girl is Lorna Doone !'

The truth was, I had guessed this, almost from the beginning of Jeremy's story. But it was almost too painful to believe, and I wanted Jeremy to say it. When he described the coach leaving Dulverton, the picture was very clear to me — because I remembered that coach, with the foreign-looking woman, the beautiful lady, the little boy, and the young dark-haired girl. I had seen them — on the day John Fry came to collect me from school, on the day I learnt my father had died.

I also remembered the frightening sight I saw later that night: of the Doones riding with the things they had stolen, and the one with a little girl across his horse in front of him. I also remembered my anger. Now I saw how the very same day had been the blackest and unhappiest of both my and Lorna's childhood days, and how from the very start, our lives had been joined together.

But there was still one question to answer. 'What was the family's name?' I said.

The father was Lord Dugal — he came from a very grand family. But there is more to this. Look at your ring, John — the one that Lorna gave you. Look at that strange sign, of a cat in a tree. I saw that same sign above the inn door! That is the sign of the House of Lorne. It is the family that Lorna's mother came from. John, your Lorna belongs to one of the richest and most famous families in England!'