the dark flower-第23章

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racketOlive　would　enjoy　the　paddock！　　Once　on　the　course；　they
neglected　the　first　race；　it　was　more　important；　the　Colonel
thought；　that　they　should　lunch。　　He　wanted　to　see　more　colour　in
her　cheeks；　wanted　to　see　her　laugh。　　He　had　an　invitation　to　his
old　regiment's　drag；　where　the　champagne　was　sure　to　be　good。　　And
he　was　so　proud　of　herwould　not　have　missed　those　young　fellows'
admiration　of　her　for　the　world；　though　to　take　a　lady　amongst　them
was；　in　fact；　against　the　rules。　　It　was　not；　then；　till　the　second
race　was　due　to　start　that　they　made　their　way　into　the　paddock。
Here　the　Derby　horses　were　being　led　solemnly；　attended　each　by　a
little　posse　of　persons；　looking　up　their　legs　and　down　their　ribs
to　see　whether　they　were　worthy　of　support；　together　with　a　few　who
liked　to　see　a　whole　horse　at　a　time。　　Presently　they　found　the
animal　which　had　been　recommended　to　the　Colonel。　　It　was　a
chestnut；　with　a　starred　forehead；　parading　in　a　far　corner。　　The
Colonel；　who　really　loved　a　horse；　was　deep　in　admiration。　　He
liked　its　head　and　he　liked　its　hocks；　above　all；　he　liked　its　eye。
A　fine　creature；　all　sense　and　fireperhaps　just　a　little　straight
in　the　shoulder　for　coming　down　the　hill！　　And　in　the　midst　of　his
examination　he　found　himself　staring　at　his　niece。　　What　breeding
the　child　showed；　with　her　delicate　arched　brows；　little　ears；　and
fine；　close　nostrils；　and　the　way　she　movedso　sure　and　springy。
She　was　too　pretty　to　suffer！　　A　shame！　　If　she　hadn't　been　so
pretty　that　young　fellow　wouldn't　have　fallen　in　love　with　her。　　If
she　weren't　so　prettythat　husband　of　hers　wouldn't！　　And　the
Colonel　dropped　his　gaze；　startled　by　the　discovery　he　had　stumbled
on。　　If　she　hadn't　been　so　pretty！　　Was　that　the　meaning　of　it　all？
The　cynicism　of　his　own　reflection　struck　him　between　wind　and
water。　　And　yet　something　in　himself　seemed　to　confirm　it　somehow。
What　then？　　Was　he　to　let　them　tear　her　in　two　between　them；
destroying　her；　because　she　was　so　pretty？　　And　somehow　this
discovery　of　histhat　passion　springs　from　worship　of　beauty　and
warmth；　of　form　and　colourdisturbed　him　horribly；　for　he　had　no
habit　of　philosophy。　　The　thought　seemed　to　him　strangely　crude；
even　immoral。　　That　she　should　be　thus　between　two　ravening
desiresa　bird　between　two　hawks；　a　fruit　between　two　mouths！　　It
was　a　way　of　looking　at　things　that　had　never　before　occurred　to
him。　　The　idea　of　a　husband　clutching　at　his　wife；　the　idea　of　that
young　man　who　looked　so　gentle；　swooping　down　on　her；　and　the　idea
that　if　she　faded；　lost　her　looks；　went　off；　their　greed；　indeed；
any　man's；　would　die　awayall　these　horrible　ideas　hurt　him　the
more　for　the　remarkable　suddenness　with　which　they　had　come　to　him。
A　tragic　business！　　Dolly　had　said　so。　　Queer　and　quickwere
women！　　But　his　resolution　that　the　day　was　to　be　jolly　soon
recurred　to　him；　and　he　hastily　resumed　inspection　of　his　fancy。
Perhaps　they　ought　to　have　a　ten…pound　note　on　it；　and　they　had
better　get　back　to　the　Stand！　　And　as　they　went　the　Colonel　saw；
standing　beneath　a　tree　at　a　little　distance；　a　young　man　that　he
could　have　sworn　was　Lennan。　　Not　likely　for　an　artist　chap　to　be
down　here！　　But　it　WAS　undoubtedly　young　Lennan；　brushed…up；　in　a
top…hat。　　Fortunately；　however；　his　face　was　not　turned　in　their
direction。　　He　said　nothing　to　Olive；　not　wishingespecially　after
those　unpleasant　thoughtsto　take　responsibility；　and　he　kept　her
moving　towards　the　gate；　congratulating　himself　that　his　eyes　had
been　so　sharp。　　In　the　crush　there　he　was　separated　from　her　a
little；　but　she　was　soon　beside　him　again；　and　more　than　ever　he
congratulated　himself　that　nothing　had　occurred　to　upset　her　and
spoil　the　day。　　Her　cheeks　were　warm　enough　now；　her　dark　eyes
glowing。　　She　was　excited　no　doubt　by　thoughts　of　the　race；　and　of
the　'tenner'　he　was　going　to　put　on　for　her。

He　recounted　the　matter　afterwards　to　Mrs。　Ercott。　　〃That　chestnut
Tabor　put　me　on　to　finished　nowherecouldn't　get　down　the　hill
knew　it　wouldn't　the　moment　I　set　eyes　on　it。　　But　the　child
enjoyed　herself。　　Wish　you'd　been　there；　my　dear！〃　　Of　his　deeper
thoughts　and　of　that　glimpse　of　young　Lennan　he　did　not　speak；　for
on　the　way　home　an　ugly　suspicion　had　attacked　him。　　Had　the　young
fellow；　after　all；　seen　and　managed　to　get　close　to　her　in　the
crush　at　the　paddock　gateway？


XIV


That　letter　of　hers　fanned　the　flame　in　Lennan　as　nothing　had　yet
fanned　it。　　Earthiness！　　Was　it　earthiness　to　love　as　he　did？　　If
so；　then　not　for　all　the　world　would　he　be　otherwise　than　earthy。
In　the　shock　of　reading　it；　he　crossed　his　Rubicon；　and　burned　his
boats　behind　him。　　No　more　did　the　pale　ghost；　chivalrous　devotion；
haunt　him。　　He　knew　now　that　he　could　not　stop　short。　　Since　she
asked　him；　he　must　not；　of　course；　try　to　see　her　just　yet。　　But
when　he　did；　then　he　would　fight　for　his　life；　the　thought　that　she
might　be　meaning　to　slip　away　from　him　was　too　utterly　unbearable。
But　she　could　not　be　meaning　that！　　She　would　never　be　so　cruel！
Ah！　she　wouldshe　must　come　to　him　in　the　end！　　The　world；　life
itself；　would　be　well　lost　for　love　of　her！

Thus　resolved；　he　was　even　able　to　work　again；　and　all　that　Tuesday
he　modelled　at　a　big　version　of　the　fantastic；　bull…like　figure　he
had　conceived　after　the　Colonel　left　him　up　on　the　hillside　at
Beaulieu。　　He　worked　at　it　with　a　sort　of　evil　joy。　　Into　this
creature　he　would　put　the　spirit　of　possession　that　held　her　from
him。　　And　while　his　fingers　forced　the　clay；　he　felt　as　if　he　had
Cramier's　neck　within　his　grip。　　Yet；　now　that　he　had　resolved　to
take　her　if　he　could；　he　had　not　quite　the　same　hatred。　　After　all；
this　man　loved　her　too；　could　not　help　it　that　she　loathed　him；
could　not　help　it　that　he　had　the　disposition　of　her；　body　and
soul！

June　had　come　in　with　skies　of　a　blue　that　not　even　London　glare
and　dust　could　pale。　　In　every　square　and　park　and　patch　of　green
the　air　simmered　with　life　and　with　the　music　of　birds　swaying　on
little　boughs。　　Piano　organs　in　the　streets　were　no　longer　wistful
for　the　South；　lovers　already　sat　in　the　shade　of　trees。

To　remain　indoors；　when　he　was　not　working；　was　sheer　torture；　for
he　could　not　read；　and　had　lost　all　interest　in　the　little
excitements；　amusements；　occupations　that　go　to　make　up　the　normal
life　of　man。　　Every　outer　thing　seemed　to　have　dropped　off；
shrivelled；　leaving　him　just　a　condition　of　the　spirit；　a　state　of
mind。

Lying　awake　he　would　think　of　things　in　the　past；　and　they　would
mean　nothingall　dissolved　and　dispersed　by　the　heat　of　this
feeling　in　him。　　Indeed；　his　sense　of　isolation　was　so　strong　that
he　could　not　even　believe　that　he　had　lived　through　the　facts　which
his　memory　apprehended。　　He　had　become　one　burning　moodthat；　and
nothing　more。

To　be　out；　especially　amongst　trees；　was　the　only　solace。

And　he　sat　for　a　long　time　that　evening　under　a　large　lime…tree　on
a　knoll　above　the　Serpentine。　　There　was　very　little　breeze；　just
enough　to　keep　alive　a　kind　of　whispering。　　What　if　men　and　women；
when　they　had　lived　their　gusty　lives；　became　trees！　　What　if
someone　who　had　burned　and　ached　were　now　spreading　over　him　this
leafy　peacethis　blue…black　shadow　against　the　stars？　　Or　were　the
stars；　perhaps；　the　souls　of　men　and　women　escaped　for　ever　from
love　and　longing？　　He　broke　off　a　branch　of　the　lime　and　drew　it
across　his　face。　　It　was　not　yet　in　flower；　but　it　smelled　lemony
and　fresh　even　here　in　London。　　If　only　for　a　moment　he　could
desert　his　own　heart；　and　rest　with　the　trees　and　stars！

No　further　letter　came　from　her　next　morning；　and　he　soon　lost　his
power　to　work。　　It　was　Derby　Day。　　He　determined　to　go　down。
Perhaps　she　would　be　there。　　Even　if　she　were　not；　he　might　find
some　little　distraction　in　the　crowd　and　the　horses。　　He　had　seen
her　in　the　paddock　long　before　the　Colonel's　sharp　eyes　detected
him；　and；　following　in　the　crush；　managed　to　touch　her　hand　in　the
crowded　gateway；　and　whisper：　〃To…morrow；　the　National　Gallery；　at
four　o'clockby　the　Bacchus　and　Ariadne。　　For　God's　sake！〃　　Her
gloved　hand　pressed　his　hard；　and　she　was　gone。　　He　stayed　in　the
paddock；　too　happy　almost　to　breathe。　。　。　。

Next　day；　while　waiting　before　that　picture；　he　looked　at　it　with
wonder。　　For　there　seemed　his　own　passion　transfigured　in　the
darkening　star…crowned　sky；　and　the　eyes　of　the　leaping　god。　　In
spirit；　was　he　not　always　rushing　to　her　like　that？　　Minutes
passed；　and　she　did　not　come。　　What　should　he　do　if　she　failed　him？
Surely　die　of　disappointment　and　despair。　。　。　。　　He　had　little
enough　experience　as　yet　of　the　toughness　of　the　human　heart；　how
life　bruises　and　crushes；　yet　leaves　it　beating。　。　。　。　　Then；　from
an　unlikely　quarter；　he　saw　her　coming。

They　walked　in　silence　down　to　the　quiet　rooms　where　the　Turner
watercolours　hung。　　No　one；　save　two　Frenchmen　and　an　old　official；
watched　them　passing　slowly　before　those　little　pictures；　till　they
came　to　the　end　wall；　and；　unseen；　unheard　by　any　but　her；　he　could
begin！

The　arguments　he　had　so　carefully　rehearsed　were　all　forgotten；
nothing　left　but　an　incoherent　pleading。　　Life　without　her　was　not
life；　and　they　had　only　one　life　for　loveone　summer。　　It　was　all
dark　where　she　was　notthe　very　sun　itself　was　dark。　　Better　to
die　than　to　live　such　false；　broken　lives；　apart　from　each　other。
Better　to　die　at　once　than　to　live　wanting　each　other；　longing　and
longing；　and　watching　each　other's　sorrow。　　And　all　for　the　sake　of
what？　　It　maddened；　killed　him；　to　think　of　that　man　touching　her
when　he　knew　she　did　but　hate　him。　　It　shamed　all　manhood；　it　could
not　be　good　to　help　such　things　to　be。　　A　vow　when　the　spirit　of　it
was　gone　was　only　superstition；　it　was　wicked　to　waste　one's　life
for　the　sake　of　that。　　Societyshe　knew；　she　must　knowonly　cared
for　the　forms；　the　outsides　of　things。　　And　what　did　it　matter　what
Society　thought？　　It　had　no　soul；　no　feeling；　nothing。　　And　if　it
were　said　they　ought　to　sacrifice　themselves　for　the　sake　of
others；　to　make　things　happier　in　the　world；　she　must　know　that　was
only　true　when　love　was　light　and　selfish；　but　not　when　people
loved　as　they　did；　with　all　their　hearts　and　souls；　so　that　they
would　die　for　each　other　any　minute；　so　that　without　each　other
there　was　no　meaning　in　anything。　　It　would　not　help　a　single　soul；
for　them　to　murder　their　love　and　all　the　happiness　of　their　lives；
to　go　on　in　a　sort　of　living　death。　　Even　if　it　were　wrong；　he
would　rather　do　that　wrong；　and　take　the　consequences！　　But　it　was
not；　it　COULD　not　be　wrong；　when　they　felt　like　that！

And　all　the　time　that　he　was　pouring　forth　those　supplications；　his
eyes　searched　and　searched　her　face。　　But　there　only　came　from　her：
〃I　don't　knowI　can't　tellif　only　I　knew！〃　　And　then　he　was
silent；　stricken　to　the　heart；　till；　at　a　look　or　a　touch　from　her；
he　would　break　out　again：　〃You　do　love　meyou　do；　then　what　does
anything　else　matter？〃

And　so　it　went　on　and　on　that　summer　afternoon；　in　the　deserted
room　meant　for　such　other　things；　where　the　two　Frenchmen　were　too
sympathetic；　and　the　old　official　too　drowsy；　to　come。　　Then　it　all
narrowed　to　one　fierce；