hope that’s all it will be!” She let go of my hand and turned away. I waited for a moment, then I said, “Go to church. Goodbye. I have to watch.”
Slowly, she turned to me again. “Are you worried about them?”
We looked at each other for a while. “Aren’t you?” Instead of answering, she moved closer to the window and pressed her face against the glass for a minute. “You see how he could see,” I continued talking.
She stayed still. “How long was he here?”
“Until I came out. I came to meet him.”
Finally, Mrs. Grose turned around, and said, “I couldn’t have come out.”
“Neither could I!” I laughed again. “But I did come. I have my duty.”
“I have mine too,” she replied. Then she asked, “What does he look like?”
“I’ve been dying to tell you. But he’s like nobody.”
“Nobody?” she echoed.
“He has no hat.” Then I noticed the look on her face and realized she had already begun to imagine a picture, which made her even more confused. So I quickly described him. “He has very red curly hair, and a long pale face. He has small, strange-looking eyes. His mouth is wide, with thin lips, and he only has little, strange red whiskers[27]. His eyebrows are darker and look like they might move a lot. He looks like an actor.”
“An actor!”
“I’ve never seen one, but that’s what I think they look like. He’s tall, active, and stands up straight, but he’s definitely not a gentleman.”
As I continued, my friend’s face became pale, “Not a gentleman? He?”
“So you know him then?”
“But is he handsome?”
“Very much so!”
“And how is he dressed?”
“He is wearing someone else’s clothes. They are stylish, but they don’t belong to him.”
She cried, “They belong to the master!”
“So you do know him?”
“Quint!” she cried.
“Quint?”
“Peter Quint—his valet[28], when he was here!”
“When the master was here?”
“He never wore his hat. They were both here—last year. Then the master left, and Quint was alone.”
I followed, but stopped a bit. “Alone?”
“Alone with us,” she added, “In charge.”
“And what happened to him?”
She took so long to answer that I became even more confused. “He went, too,” she finally said.
“Went where?”
“God knows where! He died.”
“Died?” I almost shouted.
“Yes. Mr. Quint is dead.”
VI
That night, we agreed that we would face things together. I wasn’t even sure if she had a harder time than me. I knew, even at that moment, what I could do to protect my pupils.
“He was looking for someone else, you say— someone who was not you?”
“He was looking for little Miles.” I knew this very clearly. “That’s who he was looking for.”
“But how do you know?”
“I know, I know, I know!” After a moment, she continued: “What if he sees him?”
“Little Miles? That’s what he wants!”
She looked very scared again. “The child?”
“Heaven forbid[29]! The man. He wants to appear to them.” The idea was awful, but somehow, I couldn’t keep it away. As we stayed there, I had a strong feeling that I would see what I had already seen. However, something in me told me that I could serve as a sacrifice[30] to protect the calmness of my companions. Especially the children, I would surround them and save them completely. I remember one of the last things I said to Mrs. Grose that night.
“It seems like my students have never told me—”
She looked at me as I paused in thought, “About his time here and the time they spent with him?”
“The time they spent with him, his name, his presence, his history, anything.”
“Oh, the little girl doesn’t remember. She never heard or knew.”
“About his death?” I thought deeply. “Maybe not. But Miles would remember—Miles would know.”
“Ah, don’t ask him!” Mrs. Grose cried.
I gave her the same look she had given me. “Don’t be afraid.” I continued to think. “It’s rather strange.”
“That he has never talked about him?”
“Never even asked about him. And you say they were ‘great friends’?”
“Oh, it wasn’t him! It was Quint’s own imagination. To play with him, I mean—to spoil him.” She paused for a moment, then added: “Quint was much too free.”
This made me feel a sudden disgust[31]. “Too free with my boy?”
“Too free with everyone!”
Just to be sure, I asked her one last question. “So you’re saying that he was definitely and admittedly[32] bad?”
“Oh, not admittedly. I knew it—but the master didn’t.”
“And you never told him?”
“Well, he didn’t like people talking about others’ faults. He didn’t want to hear complaints. If people were fine with him…”
“He didn’t want to hear more?” This matched my impression of him. Still, I continued. “I promise you, I would have told him!”
She understood my point. “Maybe I was wrong. But, honestly, I was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“Of
whiskers – бакенбарды
valet – лакей, слуга
Heaven forbid – боже, упаси
sacrifice – жертва
disgust – отвращение
admittedly – общепризнанно
