the island pharisees-第14章

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cab　bell；　the　whirring　wheels；　the　night　air　and　the　branchesit　was

all　so　good！　　He　threw　back　the　hansom　doors　to　feel　the　touch　of　the

warm　breeze。　　The　crowds　on　the　pavement　gave　him　strange　delight；

they　were　like　shadows；　in　some　great　illusion；　happy　shadows；

thronging；　wheeling　round　the　single　figure　of　his　world。









CHAPTER　XII



ROTTEN　ROW



With　a　headache　and　a　sense　of　restlessness；　hopeful　and　unhappy；

Shelton　mounted　his　hack　next　morning　for　a　gallop　in　the　Park。



In　the　sky　was　mingled　all　the　languor　and　the　violence　of　the

spring。　　The　trees　and　flowers　wore　an　awakened　look　in　the　gleams　of

light　that　came　stealing　down　from　behind　the　purple　of　the　clouds。

The　air　was　rain…washed；　and　the　passers　by　seemed　to　wear　an　air　of

tranquil　carelessness；　as　if　anxiety　were　paralysed　by　their

responsibility　of　the　firmament。



Thronged　by　riders；　the　Row　was　all　astir。



Near　to　Hyde　Park　Corner　a　figure　by　the　rails　caught　Shelton's　eye。

Straight　and　thin；　one　shoulder　humped　a　little；　as　if　its　owner　were

reflecting；　clothed　in　a　frock…coat　and　a　brown　felt　hat　pinched　up

in　lawless　fashion；　this　figure　was　so　detached　from　its　surroundings

that　it　would　have　been　noticeable　anywhere。　　It　belonged　to　Ferrand；

obviously　waiting　till　it　was　time　to　breakfast　with　his　patron。

Shelton　found　pleasure　in　thus　observing　him　unseen；　and　sat　quietly

on　his　horse；　hidden　behind　a　tree。



It　was　just　at　that　spot　where　riders；　unable　to　get　further；　are　for

ever　wheeling　their　horses　for　another　turn；　and　there　Ferrand；　the

bird　of　passage；　with　his　head　a　little　to　one　side；　watched　them

cantering；　trotting；　wheeling　up　and　down。



Three　men　walking　along　the　rails　were　snatching　off　their　hats

before　a　horsewoman　at　exactly　the　same　angle　and　with　precisely　the

same　air；　as　though　in　the　modish　performance　of　this　ancient　rite

they　were　satisfying　some　instinct　very　dear　to　them。



Shelton　noted　the　curl　of　Ferrand's　lip　as　he　watched　this　sight。

〃Many　thanks；　gentlemen；〃　it　seemed　to　say；　〃in　that　charming　little

action　you　have　shown　me　all　your　souls。〃



What　a　singular　gift　the　fellow　had　of　divesting　things　and　people　of

their　garments；　of　tearing　away　their　veil　of　shams；　and　their

phylacteries！　　Shelton　turned　and　cantered　on；　his　thoughts　were　with

Antonia；　and　he　did　not　want　the　glamour　stripped　away。



He　was　glancing　at　the　sky；　that　every　moment　threatened　to　discharge

a　violent　shower　of　rain；　when　suddenly　he　heard　his　name　called　from

behind；　and　who　should　ride　up　to　him　on　either　side　but　Bill　Dennant

andAntonia　herself！



They　had　been　galloping；　and　she　was　flushedflushed　as　when　she

stood　on　the　old　tower　at　Hyeres；　but　with　a　joyful　radiance

different　from　the　calm　and　conquering　radiance　of　that　other　moment。

To　Shelton's　delight　they　fell　into　line　with　him；　and　all　three　went

galloping　along　the　strip　between　the　trees　and　rails。　　The　look　she

gave　him　seemed　to　say；　〃I　don't　care　if　it　is　forbidden！〃　　but　she

did　not　speak。　　He　could　not　take　his　eyes　off　her。　　How　lovely　she

looked；　with　the　resolute　curve　of　her　figure；　the　glimpse　of　gold

under　her　hat；　the　glorious　colour　in　her　cheeks；　as　if　she　had　been

kissed。



〃It　's　so　splendid　to　be　at　home！　　Let　's　go　faster；　faster！〃　　she

cried　out。



〃Take　a　pull。　　We　shall　get　run　in；〃　grumbled　her　brother；　with　a

chuckle。



They　reined　in　round　the　bend　and　jogged　more　soberly　down　on　the　far

side；　still　not　a　word　from　her　to　Shelton；　and　Shelton　in　his　turn

spoke　only　to　Bill　Dennant。　　He　was　afraid　to　speak　to　her；　for　he

knew　that　her　mind　was　dwelling　on　this　chance　forbidden　meeting　in　a

way　quite　different　from　his　own。



Approaching　Hyde　Park　Corner；　where　Ferrand　was　still　standing

against　the　rails；　Shelton；　who　had　forgotten　his　existence；　suffered

a　shock　when　his　eyes　fell　suddenly　on　that　impassive　figure。　　He　was

about　to　raise　his　hand；　when　he　saw　that　the　young　foreigner；　noting

his　instinctive　feeling；　had　at　once　adapted　himself　to　it。　　They

passed　again　without　a　greeting；　unless　that　swift　inquisition；

followed　by　unconsciousness　in　Ferrand's　eyes；　could　so　be　called。

But　the　feeling　of　idiotic　happiness　left　Shelton；　he　grew　irritated

at　this　silence。　　It　tantalised　him　more　and　more；　for　Bill　Dennant

had　lagged　behind　to　chatter　to　a　friend；　Shelton　and　Antonia　were

alone；　walking　their　horses；　without　a　word；　not　even　looking　at　each

other。　　At　one　moment　he　thought　of　galloping　ahead　and　leaving　her；

then　of　breaking　the　vow　of　muteness　she　seemed　to　be　imposing　on

him；　and　he　kept　thinking：　〃It　ought　to　be　either　one　thing　or　the

other。　　I　can't　stand　this。〃　　Her　calmness　was　getting　on　his　nerves；

she　seemed　to　have　determined　just　how　far　she　meant　to　go；　to　have

fixed　cold…bloodedly　a　limit。　　In　her　happy　young　beauty　and　radiant

coolness　she　summed　up　that　sane　consistent　something　existing　in

nine　out　of　ten　of　the　people　Shelton　knew。　　〃I　can't　stand　it　long；〃

he　thought；　and　all　of　a　sudden　spoke；　but　as　he　did　so　she　frowned

and　cantered　on。　　When　he　caught　her　she　was　smiling；　lifting　her

face　to　catch　the　raindrops　which　were　falling　fast。　　She　gave　him

just　a　nod；　and　waved　her　hand　as　a　sign　for　him　to　go；　and　when　he

would　not；　she　frowned。　　He　saw　Bill　Dennant；　posting　after　them；

and；　seized　by　a　sense　of　the　ridiculous；　lifted　his　hat；　and

galloped　off。



The　rain　was　coming　down　in　torrents　now；　and　every　one　was　scurrying

for　shelter。　　He　looked　back　from　the　bend；　and　could　still　make　out

Antonia　riding　leisurely；　her　face　upturned；　and　revelling　in　the

shower。　　Why　had　n't　she　either　cut　him　altogether　or　taken　the

sweets　the　gods　had　sent？　　It　seemed　wicked　to　have　wasted　such　a

chance；　and；　ploughing　back　to　Hyde　Park　Corner；　he　turned　his　head

to　see　if　by　any　chance　she　had　relented。



His　irritation　was　soon　gone；　but　his　longing　stayed。　　Was　ever

anything　so　beautiful　as　she　had　looked　with　her　face　turned　to　the

rain？　　She　seemed　to　love　the　rain。　　It　suited　hersuited　her　ever

so　much　better　than　the　sunshine　of　the　South。　　Yes；　she　was　very

English！　　Puzzling　and　fretting；　he　reached　his　rooms。　　Ferrand　had

not　arrived；　in　fact　did　not　turn　up　that　day。　　His　non…appearance

afforded　Shelton　another　proof　of　the　delicacy　that　went　hand　in　hand

with　the　young　vagrant's　cynicism。　　In　the　afternoon　he　received　a

note。



。　　。　　。　　You　see；　Dick　＇he　read＇；　I　ought　to　have　cut　you；　but　I　felt

too　crazyeverything　seems　so　jolly　at　home；　even　this　stuffy　old

London。　　Of　course；　I　wanted　to　talk　to　you　badlythere　are　heaps　of

things　one　can't　say　by　letterbut　I　should　have　been　sorry

afterwards。　　I　told　mother。　　She　said　I　was　quite　right；　but　I　don't

think　she　took　it　in。　　Don't　you　feel　that　the　only　thing　that　really

matters　is　to　have　an　ideal；　and　to　keep　it　so　safe　that　you　can

always　look　forward　and　feel　that　you　have　beenI　can't　exactly

express　my　meaning。



Shelton　lit　a　cigarette　and　frowned。　　It　seemed　to　him　queer　that　she

should　set　more　store　by　an　〃ideal〃　than　by　the　fact　that　they　had

met　for　the　first　and　only　time　in　many　weeks。



〃I　suppose　she　's　right；〃　he　thoughts〃I　suppose　she　's　right。　　I

ought　not　to　have　tried　to　speak　to　her！〃　　As　a　matter　of　fact；　he

did　not　at　all　feel　that　she　was　right。









CHAPTER　XIII



AN　〃AT　HOME〃



On　Tuesday　morning　he　wandered　off　to　Paddington；　hoping　for　a　chance

view　of　her　on　her　way　down　to　Holm　Oaks；　but　the　sense　of　the

ridiculous；　on　which　he　had　been　nurtured；　was　strong　enough　to　keep

him　from　actually　entering　the　station　and　lurking　about　until　she

came。　　With　a　pang　of　disappointment　he　retraced　his　steps　from　Praed

Street　to　the　Park；　and　once　there　tried　no　further　to　waylay　her。

He　paid　a　round　of　calls　in　the　afternoon；　mostly　on　her　relations；

and；　seeking　out　Aunt　Charlotte；　he　dolorously　related　his　encounter

in　the　Row。　　But　she　found　it　〃rather　nice；〃　and　on　his　pressing　her

with　his　views；　she　murmured　that　it　was　〃quite　romantic；　don't　you

know。〃



〃Still；　it's　very　hard；〃　said　Shelton；　and　he　went　away　disconsolate。



As　he　was　dressing　for　dinner　his　eye　fell　on　a　card　announcing　the

〃at　home〃　of　one　of　his　own　cousins。　　Her　husband　was　a　composer；　and

he　had　a　vague　idea　that　he　would　find　at　the　house　of　a　composer

some　quite　unusually　free　kind　of　atmosphere。　　After　dining　at　the

club；　therefore；　he　set　out　for　Chelsea。　　The　party　was　held　in　a

large　room　on　the　ground…floor；　which　was　already　crowded　with　people

when　Shelton　entered。　　They　stood　or　sat　about　in　groups　with　smiles

fixed　on　their　lips；　and　the　light　from　balloon…like　lamps　fell　in

patches　on　their　heads　and　hands　and　shoulders。　　Someone　had　just

finished　rendering　on　the　piano　a　composition　of　his　own。　　An　expert

could　at　once　have　picked　out　from　amongst　the　applauding　company

those　who　were　musicians　by　profession；　for　their　eyes　sparkled；　and

a　certain　acidity　pervaded　their　enthusiasm。　　This　freemasonry　of

professional　intolerance　flew　from　one　to　the　other　like　a　breath　of

unanimity；　and　the　faint　shrugging　of　shoulders　was　as　harmonious　as

though　one　of　the　high　windows　had　been　opened　suddenly；　admitting　a

draught　of　chill　May　air。



Shelton　made　his　way　up　to　his　cousina　fragile；　grey…haired　woman

in　black　velvet　and　Venetian　lace；　whose　starry　eyes　beamed　at　him；

until　her　duties；　after　the　custom　of　these　social　gatherings；

obliged　her　to　break　off　conversation　just　as　it　began　to　interest

him。　　He　was　passed　on　to　another　lady　who　was　already　talking　to　two

gentlemen；　and；　their　volubility　being　greater　than　his　own；　he　fell

into　the　position　of　observer。　　Instead　of　the　profound　questions　he

had　somehow　expected　to　hear　raised；　everybody　seemed　gossiping；　or

searching　the　heart　of　such　topics　as　where　to　go　this　summer；　or　how

to　get　new　servants。　　Trifling　with　coffee…cups；　they　dissected　their

fellow　artists　in　the　same　way　as　his　society　friends　of　the　other

night　had　dissected　the　fellow〃smart〃；　and　the　varnish　on　the

floor；　the　pictures；　and　the　piano　were　reflected　on　all　the　faces

around。　　Shelton　moved　from　group　to　group　disconsolate。



A　tall；　imposing　person　stood　under　a　Japanese　print　holding　the　palm

of　one　hand　outspread；　his　unwieldy　trunk　and　thin　legs　wobbled　in

concert　to　his　ingratiating　voice。



〃War；〃　he　was　saying；　〃is　not　necessary。　　War　is　not　necessary。　　I

hope　I　make　myself　clear。　　War　is　not　necessary；　it　depends　on

nationality；　but　nationality　is　not　necessary。〃　　He　inclined　his　head

to　one　side；　〃Why　do　we　have　nationality？　　Let　us　do　away　with

boundarieslet　us　have　the　warfare　of　commerce。　　If　I　see　France

looking　at　Brighton〃he　laid　his　head　upon　one　side；　and　beamed　at

Shelton；〃what　do　I　do？　　Do　I　say　'Hands　off'？　　No。　　'Take　it；'

I　sayt