the dark flower-第3章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


〃Dangers？　　Have　cultured　people　dangers？〃

Who　had　spoken　thus？　　Every　eyebrow　was　going　up；　every　mouth　was
drooping；　and　there　was　silence。　　The　boy　stared　at　his　companion。
In　what　a　strange　voice　she　had　made　that　little　interjection！
There　seemed　a　sort　of　flame；　too；　lighted　in　her　eyes。　　Then　the
little　grey…bearded　man　said；　and　his　rather　whispering　voice
sounded　hard　and　acid：

〃We　are　all　human；　my　dear　madam。〃

The　boy　felt　his　heart　go　thump　at　Anna's　laugh。　　It　was　just　as　if
she　had　said：　〃Ah！　but　not　yousurely！〃　　And　he　got　up　to　follow
her　towards　the　door。

The　English　party　had　begun　already　talkingof　the　weather。

The　two　walked　some　way　from　the　'hut'　in　silence；　before　Anna
said：

〃You　didn't　like　me　when　I　laughed？〃

〃You　hurt　their　feelings；　I　think。〃

〃I　wanted　tothe　English　Grundys！　　Ah！　don't　be　cross　with　me！
They　WERE　English　Grundys；　weren't　theyevery　one？〃

She　looked　into　his　face　so　hard；　that　he　felt　the　blood　rush　to
his　cheeks；　and　a　dizzy　sensation　of　being　drawn　forward。

〃They　have　no　blood；　those　people！　　Their　voices；　their
supercilious　eyes　that　look　you　up　and　down！　　Oh！　　I've　had　so　much
of　them！　　That　woman　with　her　Liberalism；　just　as　bad　as　any。　　I
hate　them　all！〃

He　would　have　liked　to　hate　them；　too；　since　she　did；　but　they　had
only　seemed　to　him　amusing。

〃They　aren't　human。　　They　don't　FEEL！　　Some　day　you'll　know　them。
They　won't　amuse　you　then！〃

She　went　on；　in　a　quiet；　almost　dreamy　voice：

〃Why　do　they　come　here？　　It's　still　young　and　warm　and　good　out
here。　　Why　don't　they　keep　to　their　Culture；　where　no　one　knows
what　it　is　to　ache　and　feel　hunger；　and　hearts　don't　beat。　　Feel！〃

Disturbed　beyond　measure；　the　boy　could　not　tell　whether　it　was　in
her　heart　or　in　his　hand　that　the　blood　was　pulsing　so。　　Was　he
glad　or　sorry　when　she　let　his　hand　go？

〃Ah；　well！　　They　can't　spoil　this　day。　　Let's　rest。〃

At　the　edge　of　the　larch…wood　where　they　sat；　were　growing　numbers
of　little　mountain　pinks；　with　fringed　edges　and　the　sweetest　scent
imaginable；　and　she　got　up　presently　to　gather　them。　　But　he　stayed
where　he　was；　and　odd　sensations　stirred　in　him。　　The　blue　of　the
sky；　the　feathery　green　of　the　larch…trees；　the　mountains；　were　no
longer　to　him　what　they　had　been　early　that　morning。

She　came　back　with　her　hands　full　of　the　little　pinks；　spread　her
fingers　and　let　them　drop。　　They　showered　all　over　his　face　and
neck。　　Never　was　so　wonderful　a　scent；　never　such　a　strange　feeling
as　they　gave　him。　　They　clung　to　his　hair；　his　forehead；　his　eyes；
one　even　got　caught　on　the　curve　of　his　lips；　and　he　stared　up　at
her　through　their　fringed　petals。　　There　must　have　been　something
wild　in　his　eyes　then；　something　of　the　feeling　that　was　stinging
his　heart；　for　her　smile　died；　she　walked　away；　and　stood　with　her
face　turned　from　him。　　Confused；　and　unhappy；　he　gathered　the
strewn　flowers；　and　not　till　he　had　collected　every　one　did　he　get
up　and　shyly　take　them　to　her；　where　she　still　stood；　gazing　into
the　depths　of　the　larch…wood。


V


What　did　he　know　of　women；　that　should　make　him　understand？　　At　his
public　school　he　had　seen　none　to　speak　to；　at　Oxford；　only　this
one。　　At　home　in　the　holidays；　not　any；　save　his　sister　Cicely。
The　two　hobbies　of　their　guardian；　fishing；　and　the　antiquities　of
his　native　county；　rendered　him　averse　to　society；　so　that　his
little　Devonshire　manor…house；　with　its　black　oak　panels　and　its
wild　stone…walled　park　along　the　river…side　was；　from　year's　end　to
year's　end；　innocent　of　all　petticoats；　save　those　of　Cicely　and
old　Miss　Tring；　the　governess。　　Then；　too；　the　boy　was　shy。　　No；
there　was　nothing　in　his　past；　of　not　yet　quite　nineteen　years；　to
go　by。　　He　was　not　of　those　youths　who　are　always　thinking　of
conquests。　　The　very　idea　of　conquest　seemed　to　him　vulgar；　mean；
horrid。　　There　must　be　many　signs　indeed　before　it　would　come　into
his　head　that　a　woman　was　in　love　with　him；　especially　the　one　to
whom　he　looked　up；　and　thought　so　beautiful。　　For　before　all　beauty
he　was　humble；　inclined　to　think　himself　a　clod。　　It　was　the　part
of　life　which　was　always　unconsciously　sacred；　and　to　be　approached
trembling。　　The　more　he　admired；　the　more　tremulous　and　diffident
he　became。　　And　so；　after　his　one　wild　moment；　when　she　plucked
those　sweet…scented　blossoms　and　dropped　them　over　him；　he　felt
abashed；　and　walking　home　beside　her　he　was　quieter　than　ever；
awkward　to　the　depths　of　his　soul。

If　there　were　confusion　in　his　heart　which　had　been　innocent　of
trouble；　what　must　there　have　been　in　hers；　that　for　so　long　had
secretly　desired　the　dawning　of　that　confusion？　　And　she；　too；　was
very　silent。

Passing　a　church　with　open　door　in　the　outskirts　of　the　village；
she　said：

〃Don't　wait　for　meI　want　to　go　in　here　a　little。〃

In　the　empty　twilight　within；　one　figure；　a　countrywoman　in　her
black　shawl；　was　kneelingmarvellously　still。　　He　would　have　liked
to　stay。　　That　kneeling　figure；　the　smile　of　the　sunlight　filtering
through　into　the　half　darkness！　　He　lingered　long　enough　to　see
Anna；　too；　go　down　on　her　knees　in　the　stillness。　　Was　she　praying？
Again　he　had　the　turbulent　feeling　with　which　he　had　watched　her
pluck　those　flowers。　　She　looked　so　splendid　kneeling　there！　　It
was　caddish　to　feel　like　that；　when　she　was　praying；　and　he　turned
quickly　away　into　the　road。　　But　that　sharp；　sweet　stinging
sensation　did　not　leave　him。　　He　shut　his　eyes　to　get　rid　of　her
imageand　instantly　she　became　ten　times　more　visible；　his　feeling
ten　times　stronger。　　He　mounted　to　the　hotel；　there　on　the　terrace
was　his　tutor。　　And　oddly　enough；　the　sight　of　him　at　that　moment
was　no　more　embarrassing　than　if　it　had　been　the　hotel　concierge。
Stormer　did　not　somehow　seem　to　count；　did　not　seem　to　want　you　to
count　him。　　Besides；　he　was　so　oldnearly　fifty！

The　man　who　was　so　old　was　posed　in　a　characteristic　attitude
hands　in　the　pockets　of　his　Norfolk　jacket；　one　shoulder　slightly
raised；　head　just　a　little　on　one　side；　as　if　preparing　to　quiz
something。　　He　spoke　as　Lennan　came　up；　smilingbut　not　with　his
eyes。

〃Well；　young　man；　and　what　have　you　done　with　my　wife？〃

〃Left　her　in　a　church；　sir。〃

〃Ah！　　She　will　do　that！　　Has　she　run　you　off　your　legs？　　No？　　Then
let's　walk　and　talk　a　little。〃

To　be　thus　pacing　up　and　down　and　talking　with　her　husband　seemed
quite　natural；　did　not　even　interfere　with　those　new　sensations；
did　not　in　the　least　increase　his　shame　for　having　them。　　He　only
wondered　a　little　how　she　could　have　married　himbut　so　little！
Quite　far　and　academic　was　his　wonderlike　his　wonder　in　old　days
how　his　sister　could　care　to　play　with　dolls。　　If　he　had　any　other
feeling；　it　was　just　a　longing　to　get　away　and　go　down　the　hill
again　to　the　church。　　It　seemed　cold　and　lonely　after　all　that　long
day　with　heras　if　he　had　left　himself　up　there；　walking　along
hour　after　hour；　or　lying　out　in　the　sun　beside　her。　　What　was　old
Stormer　talking　about？　　The　difference　between　the　Greek　and　Roman
views　of　honour。　　Always　in　the　pastseemed　to　think　the　present
was　bad　form。　　And　he　said：

〃We　met　some　English　Grundys；　sir；　on　the　mountain。〃

〃Ah；　yes！　　Any　particular　brand？〃

〃Some　advanced；　and　some　not；　but　all　the　same；　I　think；　really。〃

〃I　see。　　Grundys；　I　think　you　said？〃

〃Yes；　sir；　from　this　hotel。　　It　was　Mrs。　Stormer's　name　for　them。
They　were　so　very　superior。〃

〃Quite。〃

There　was　something　unusual　in　the　tone　of　that　little　word。　　And
the　boy　staredfor　the　first　time　there　seemed　a　real　man　standing
there。　　Then　the　blood　rushed　up　into　his　cheeks；　for　there　she
was！　　Would　she　come　up　to　them？　　How　splendid　she　was　looking；
burnt　by　the　sun；　and　walking　as　if　just　starting！　　But　she　passed
into　the　hotel　without　turning　her　head　their　way。　　Had　he
offended；　hurt　her？　　He　made　an　excuse；　and　got　away　to　his　room。

In　the　window　from　which　that　same　morning　he　had　watched　the
mountains　lying　out　like　lions　in　the　dim　light；　he　stood　again；
and　gazed　at　the　sun　dropping　over　the　high　horizon。　　What　had
happened　to　him？　　He　felt　so　different；　so　utterly　different。　　It
was　another　world。　　And　the　most　strange　feeling　came　on　him；　as　of
the　flowers　falling　again　all　over　his　face　and　neck　and　hands；　the
tickling　of　their　soft…fringed　edges；　the　stinging　sweetness　of
their　scent。　　And　he　seemed　to　hear　her　voice　saying：　〃Feel！〃　and
to　feel　her　heart　once　more　beating　under　his　hand。


VI


Alone　with　that　black…shawled　figure　in　the　silent　church；　Anna　did
not　pray。　　Resting　there　on　her　knees；　she　experienced　only　the
sore　sensation　of　revolt。　　Why　had　Fate　flung　this　feeling　into　her
heart；　lighted　up　her　life　suddenly；　if　God　refused　her　its
enjoyment？　　Some　of　the　mountain　pinks　remained　clinging　to　her
belt；　and　the　scent　of　them；　crushed　against　her；　warred　with　the
faint　odour　of　age　and　incense。　　While　they　were　there；　with　their
enticement　and　their　memories；　prayer　would　never　come。　　But　did
she　want　to　pray？　　Did　she　desire　the　mood　of　that　poor　soul　in　her
black　shawl；　who　had　not　moved　by　one　hair's　breadth　since　she　had
been　watching　her；　who　seemed　resting　her　humble　self　so　utterly；
letting　life　lift　from　her；　feeling　the　relief　of　nothingness？　　Ah；
yes！　what　would　it　be　to　have　a　life　so　toilsome；　so　little
exciting　from　day　to　day　and　hour　to　hour；　that　just　to　kneel　there
in　wistful　stupor　was　the　greatest　pleasure　one　could　know？　　It　was
beautiful　to　see　her；　but　it　was　sad。　　And　there　came　over　Anna　a
longing　to　go　up　to　her　neighbour　and　say：　〃Tell　me　your　troubles；
we　are　both　women。〃　　She　had　lost　a　son；　perhaps；　some　loveor
perhaps　not　really　love；　only　some　illusion。　　Ah！　　Love。　。　。　。　　Why
should　any　spirit　yearn；　why　should　any　body；　full　of　strength　and
joy；　wither　slowly　away　for　want　of　love？　　Was　there　not　enough　in
this　great　world　for　her；　Anna；　to　have　a　little？　　She　would　not
harm　him；　for　she　would　know　when　he　had　had　enough　of　her；　she
would　surely　have　the　pride　and　grace　then　to　let　him　go。　　For；　of
course；　he　would　get　tired　of　her。　　At　her　age　she　could　never　hope
to　hold　a　boy　more　than　a　few　yearsmonths；　perhaps。　　But　would
she　ever　hold　him　at　all？　　Youth　was　so　hardit　had　no　heart！　　And
then　the　memory　of　his　eyes　came　backgazing　up；　troubled；　almost
wildwhen　she　had　dropped　on　him　those　flowers。　　That　memory
filled　her　with　a　sort　of　delirium。　　One　look　from　her　then；　one
touch；　and　he　would　have　clasped　her　to　him。　　She　was　sure　of　it；
yet　scarcely　dared　to　believe　what　meant　so　much。　　And　suddenly　the
torment　that　she　must　go　through；　whatever　happened；　seemed　to　her
too　brutal　and　undeserved！　　She　rose。　　Just　one　gleam　of　sunlight
was　still　slanting　through　the　doorway；　it　failed　by　a　yard　or　so
to　reach　the　kneeling　countrywoman；　and　Anna　watched。　　Would　it
steal　on　and　touch　her；　or　would　the　sun　pass　down　behind　the
mountains；　and　it　fade　away？　　Unconscious　of　that　issue；　the　black…
shawled　figure　knelt；　never　moving。　　And　the　beam　crept　on。　　〃If　it
touches　her；　then　he　will　love　me；　if　only　for　an　hour；　if　it　fades
out　too　soon〃　　And　the　beam　crept　on。　　That　shadowy　path　of
light；　with　its　dancing