Поворот винта. Уровень 1 / The Turn of the Screw

“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 - Heaven forbid – боже, упаси]! 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 - sacrifice – жертва] 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 - disgust – отвращение]. “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 - admittedly – общепризнанно] 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 the things that man could do. Quint was so clever.”

I understood even more than I showed. “Weren’t you afraid of anything else? Not of his infulence[33 - influence – влияние]—?”

“His influence?” She repeated with a painful look, waiting for me to continue.

“On innocent little lives. They were under your care.”

“No, they weren’t under mine!” She replied firmly. “The master trusted him and put him here because he was supposed to be unwell, and the country air would be good for him. So he had all the authority. Yes,”—she told me sternly[34 - sternly – строго, серьезно]—”even over them.”

“Over those children?” I had to hold back a cry. “And you could stand it!”

“No, I couldn’t—and I can’t now!” And the poor woman started crying.

From the next day, there would be strict control over the children, as I said before. However, we couldn’t stop talking about the subject passionately for a whole week! We had discussed it on Sunday night, but I couldn’t help but feel that there was something she hadn’t told me. I had been completely open, but Mrs. Grose had kept a secret. I was sure that she didn’t do that because she wasn’t honest. She was afraid and that’s it. Looking back now, it seems that I had already interpreted[35 - to interpret – толковать, объяснять] most of the meaning behind the situation, thanks to following more terrible events. What those events showed to me was the presence of a mysterious man who was still alive, while the dead one would stay a mystery for a while. This man had spent several months at Bly, which was quite a long time. The end of this terrible period only came when, on a winter morning, Peter Quint’s body was found on the road. The cause of his death was a head wound[36 - wound – рана], which have been caused by a slip on an icy slope[37 - slope – склон]. It was a wrong path to take, especially in the dark and after having drinks at the pub.

I don’t know how to explain my feelings in simple words, but during that time I found joy in being brave. We were all in danger together. They had no one but me, and I had them. It was a wonderful opportunity. This opportunity came to me like a clear picture. I was like a shield, standing in front of them. The more I watched them, the less they noticed me. I started watching them with nervousness[38 - nervousness – беспокойство] and excitement. It could have turned to madness[39 - madness – безумие] if it had lasted too long. But it turned into something else. It turned into horrible evidence. The evidence started when I took action.

The moment this happened was one afternoon when I was alone in the garden with the younger child. We had left Miles inside reading a book. His sister, on the other hand, had wanted to come outside. We walked together for about half an hour. I noticed how both children were able to be independent yet still be with me. They never asked for attention but also never seemed bored. I enjoyed watching them have fun without needing me. It was like being a special person or thing in their game, and I was happy to play that role. I can’t remember what role I played that day, but I know I felt important and Flora was playing happily. We were near the lake, which we called the Sea of Azov because we were learning about geography.

Suddenly, I realized that there was someone watching us from the other side of the Sea of Azov. I was sitting on an old stone bench near the lake when I felt, without actually seeing, the presence of another person in the distance. I was sure that if I looked across the lake, I would see that person. I was busy stitching and tried not to look. I thought that it could be one of the men from the area or even a messenger, a postman, or a tradesman’s boy, from the village. But my thoughts didn’t seem right to me.

I looked straight at little Flora, who was about ten yards away. I was worried if she would also see the strange visitor. I held my breath, hoping for a cry or some sign from her. But nothing happened. Two things shocked me even more. First, I felt that all sounds from her had stopped in a minute. Second, she turned her back to the water while playing. When I finally looked at her, I was sure that we were still being watched by someone. With my newfound bravery, I was ready to face whatever came next.

VII

I found Mrs. Grose as soon as I could. I remember crying out as I hugged her tightly, saying, “They know, it’s too scary. They know, they know!”

Mrs. Grose looked at me with disbelief[40 - disbelief – неверие, недоверие] as she held me. “What do you mean?” she asked.