the patrician-第17章

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and　battered　hat　adorned　with　those　artificial　and　other　flies；　which
infest　Harris　tweed；　he　crept　along　among　the　hazel　bushes　and　thorn…
trees；　perfectly　happy。　　Like　an　old　spaniel；　who　has　once　gloried　in
the　fetching　of　hares；　rabbits；　and　all　manner　of　fowl；　and　is　now
glad　if　you　will　but　throw　a　stick　for　him；　so　one；　who　had　been　a
famous　fisher　before　the　Lord；　who　had　harried　the　waters　of　Scotland
and　Norway；　Florida　and　Iceland；　now　pursued　trout　no　bigger　than
sardines。　　The　glamour　of　a　thousand　memories　hallowed　the　hours　he
thus　spent　by　that　brown　water。　　He　fished　unhasting；　religious；　like
some　good　Catholic　adding　one　more　to　the　row　of　beads　already　told；
as　though　he　would　fish　himself；　gravely；　without　complaint；　into　the
other　world。　　With　each　fish　caught　he　experienced　a　solemn
satisfaction。

Though　he　would　have　liked　Barbara　with　him　that　morning；　he　had　only
looked　at　her　once　after　breakfast　in　such　a　way　that　she　could　not
see　him；　and　with　a　dry　smile　gone　off　by　himself。　　Down　by　the
stream　it　was　dappled；　both　cool　and　warm；　windless；　the　trees　met
over　the　river；　and　there　were　many　stones；　forming　little　basins
which　held　up　the　ripple；　so　that　the　casting　of　a　fly　required　much
cunning。　　This　long　dingle　ran　for　miles　through　the　foot…growth　of
folding　hills。　　It　was　beloved　of　jays；　but　of　human　beings　there
were　none；　except　a　chicken…farmer's　widow；　who　lived　in　a　house
thatched　almost　to　the　ground；　and　made　her　livelihood　by　directing
tourists；　with　such　cunning　that　they　soon　came　back　to　her　for　tea。

It　was　while　throwing　a　rather　longer　line　than　usual　to　reach　a
little　dark　piece　of　crisp　water　that　Lord　Dennis　heard　the　swishing
and　crackling　of　someone　advancing　at　full　speed。　　He　frowned
slightly；　feeling　for　the　nerves　of　his　fishes；　whom　he　did　not　wish
startled。　　The　invader　was　Miltoun；　hot；　pale；　dishevelled；　with　a
queer；　hunted　look　on　his　face。　　He　stopped　on　seeing　his　great…
uncle；　and　instantly　assumed　the　mask　of　his　smile。

Lord　Dennis　was　not　the　man　to　see　what　was　not　intended　for　him；　and
he　merely　said：

〃Well；　Eustace！〃　as　he　might　have　spoken；　meeting　his　nephew　in　the
hall　of　one　of　his　London　Clubs。

Miltoun；　no　less　polite；　murmured：

〃Hope　I　haven't　lost　you　anything。〃

Lord　Dennis　shook　his　head；　and　laying　his　rod　on　the　bank；　said：

〃Sit　down　and　have　a　chat；　old　fellow。　　You　don't　fish；　I　think？〃

He　had　not；　in　the　least；　missed　the　suffering　behind　Miltoun's　mask；
his　eyes　were　still　good；　and　there　was　a　little　matter　of　some
twenty　years'　suffering　of　his　own　on　account　of　a　womanancient
history　nowwhich　had　left　him　quaintly　sensitive；　for　an　old　man；
to　signs　of　suffering　in　others。

Miltoun　would　not　have　obeyed　that　invitation　from　anyone　else；　but
there　was　something　about　Lord　Dennis　which　people　did　not　resist；
his　power　lay　in　a　dry　ironic　suavity　which　could　not　but　persuade
people　that　impoliteness　was　altogether　too　new　and　raw　a　thing　to　be
indulged　in。

The　two　sat　side　by　side　on　the　roots　of　trees。　　At　first　they　talked
a　little　of　birds；　and　then　were　dumb；　so　dumb　that　the　invisible
creatures　of　the　woods　consulted　together　audibly。　　Lord　Dennis　broke
that　silence。

〃This　place；〃　he　said；　〃always　reminds　me　of　Mark　Twain's　writings
can't　tell　why；　unless　it's　the　ever…greenness。　　I　like　the　evergreen
philosophers；　Twain　and　Meredith。　　There's　no　salvation　except
through　courage；　though　I　never　could　stomach　the　'strong　man'
captain　of　his　soul；　Henley　and　Nietzsche　and　that　sortgoes　against
the　grain　with　me。　　What　do　you　say；　Eustace？〃

〃They　meant　well；〃　answered　Miltoun；　〃but　they　protested　too　much。〃

Lord　Dennis　moved　his　head　in　assent。

〃To　be　captain　of　your　soul！〃　continued　Miltoun　in　a　bitter　voice；
〃it's　a　pretty　phrase！〃

〃Pretty　enough；〃　murmured　Lord　Dennis。

Miltoun　looked　at　him。

〃And　suitable　to　you；〃　he　said。

〃No；　my　dear；〃　Lord　Dennis　answered　dryly；　〃a　long　way　off　that；
thank　God！〃

His　eyes　were　fixed　intently　on　the　place　where　a　large　trout　had
risen　in　the　stillest　toffee…coloured　pool。　　He　knew　that　fellow；　a
half…pounder　at　least；　and　his　thoughts　began　flighting　round　the　top
of　his　head；　hovering　over　the　various　merits　of　the　flies。　　His
fingers　itched　too；　but　he　made　no　movement；　and　the　ash…tree　under
which　he　sat　let　its　leaves　tremble；　as　though　in　sympathy。

〃See　that　hawk？〃　said　Miltoun。

At　a　height　more　than　level　with　the　tops　of　the　hills　a　buzzard　hawk
was　stationary　in　the　blue　directly　over　them。　　Inspired　by　curiosity
at　their　stillness；　he　was　looking　down　to　see　whether　they　were
edible；　the　upcurved　ends　of　his　great　wings　flirted　just　once　to
show　that　he　was　part　of　the　living　glory　of　the　aira　symbol　of
freedom　to　men　and　fishes。

Lord　Dennis　looked　at　his　great…nephew。　　The　boyfor　what　else　was
thirty　to　seventy…six？was　taking　it　hard；　whatever　it　might　be；
taking　it　very　hard！　　He　was　that　sortran　till　he　dropped。　　The
worst　kind　to　helpthe　sort　that　made　for　troublethat　let　things
gnaw　at　them！　　And　there　flashed　before　the　old　man's　mind　the　image
of　Prometheus　devoured　by　the　eagle。　　It　was　his　favourite　tragedy；
which　he　still　read　periodically；　in　the　Greek；　helping　himself　now
and　then　out　of　his　old　lexicon　to　the　meaning　of　some　word　which　had
flown　to　Erebus。　　Yes；　Eustace　was　a　fellow　for　the　heights　and
depths！

He　said　quietly：

〃You　don't　care　to　talk　about　it；　I　suppose？〃

Miltoun　shook　his　head；　and　again　there　was　silence。

The　buzzard　hawk　having　seen　them　move；　quivered　his　wings　like　a
moth's；　and　deserted　that　plane　of　air。　　A　robin　from　the　dappled
warmth　of　a　mossy　stone；　was　regarding　them　instead。　　There　was
another　splash　in　the　pool。

Lord　Dennis　said　gently：

〃That　fellow's　risen　twice；　I　believe　he'd　take　a　'Wistman's
treasure。'〃　　　Extracting　from　his　hat　its　latest　fly；　and　binding　it
on；　he　began　softly　to　swish　his　line。

〃I　shall　have　him　yet！〃　he　muttered。　　But　Miltoun　had　stolen　away。。。。

The　further　piece　of　information　about　Mrs。　Noel；　already　known　by
Barbara；　and　diffused　by　the　'Bucklandbury　News'；　had　not　become
common　knowledge　at　the　Court　till　after　Lord　Dennis　had　started　out
to　fish。　　In　combination　with　the　report　that　Miltoun　had　arrived　and
gone　out　without　breakfast；　it　had　been　received　with　mingled
feelings。　　Bertie；　Harbinger；　and　Shropton；　in　a　short　conclave；
after　agreeing　that　from　the　point　of　view　of　the　election　it　was
perhaps　better　than　if　she　had　been　a　divorcee；　were　still　inclined
to　the　belief　that　no　time　was　to　be　lostin　doing　what；　however；
they　were　unable　to　determine。　　Apart　from　the　impossibility　of
knowing　how　a　fellow　like　Miltoun　would　take　the　matter；　they　were
faced　with　the　devilish　subtlety　of　all　situations　to　which　the
proverb　'Least　said；　soonest　mended'　applies。　　They　were　in　the
presence　of　that　awe…inspiring　thing；　the　power　of　scandal。　　Simple
statements　of　simple　facts；　without　moral　drawn　（to　which　no　legal
exception　could　be　taken）　laid　before　the　public　as　pieces　of
interesting　information；　or　at　the　worst　exposed　in　perfect　good
faith；　lest　the　public　should　blindly　elect　as　their　representative
one　whose　private　life　might　not　stand　the　inspection　of　daylight
what　could　be　more　justifiable！　　And　yet　Miltoun's　supporters　knew
that　this　simple　statement　of　where　he　spent　his　evenings　had　a
poisonous　potency；　through　its　power　of　stimulating　that　side　of　the
human　imagination　the　most　easily　excited。　　They　recognized　only　too
well；　how　strong　was　a　certain　primitive　desire；　especially　in　rural
districts；　by　yielding　to　which　the　world　was　made　to　go；　and　how
remarkably　hard　it；　was　not　to　yield　to　it；　and　how　interesting　and
exciting　to　see　or　hear　of　others　yielding　to　it；　and　how　（though
here；　of　course；　men　might　differ　secretly）　reprehensible　of　them　to
do　so！　　They　recognized；　too　well；　how　a　certain　kind　of　conscience
would　appreciate　this　rumour；　and　how　the　puritans　would　lick　their
lengthened　chops。　　They　knew；　too；　how　irresistible　to　people　of　any
imagination　at　all；　was　the　mere　combination　of　a　member　of　a　class；
traditionally　supposed　to　be　inclined　to　having　what　it　wanted；　with
a　lady　who　lived　alone！　　As　Harbinger　said：　It　was　really　devilish
awkward！　　For；　to　take　any　notice　of　it　would　be　to　make　more　people
than　ever　believe　it　true。　　And　yet；　that　it　was　working　mischief；
they　felt　by　the　secret　voice　in　their　own　souls；　telling　them　that
they　would　have　believed　it　if　they　had　not　known　better。　　They　hung
about；　waiting　for　Miltoun　to　come　in。

The　news　was　received　by　Lady　Valleys　with　a　sigh　of　intense　relief；
and　the　remark　that　it　was　probably　another　lie。　　When　Barbara
confirmed　it；　she　only　said：　〃Poor　Eustace！〃　and　at　once　wrote　off　to
her　husband　to　say　that　'Anonyma'　was　still　married；　so　that　the
worst　fortunately　could　not　happen。

Miltoun　came　in　to　lunch；　but　from　his　face　and　manner　nothing　could
be　guessed。　　He　was　a　thought　more　talkative　than　usual；　and　spoke　of
Brabrook's　speechsome　of　which　he　had　heard。　　He　looked　at　Courtier
meaningly；　and　after　lunch　said　to　him：

〃Will　you　come　round　to　my　den？〃

In　that　room；　the　old　withdrawing…room　of　the　Elizabethan　wingwhere
once　had　been　the　embroideries；　tapestries；　and　missals　of　beruffled
dames　were　now　books；　pamphlets；　oak…panels；　pipes；　fencing　gear；　and
along　one　wall　a　collection　of　Red　Indian　weapons　and　ornaments
brought　back　by　Miltoun　from　the　United　States。　　High　on　the　wall
above　these　reigned　the　bronze　death…mask　of　a　famous　Apache　Chief；
cast　from　a　plaster　taken　of　the　face　by　a　professor　of　Yale　College；
who　had　declared　it　to　be　a　perfect　specimen　of　the　vanishing　race。
That　visage；　which　had　a　certain　weird　resemblance　to　Dante's；
presided　over　the　room　with　cruel；　tragic　stoicism。　　No　one　could
look　on　it　without　feeling　that；　there；　the　human　will　had　been
pushed　to　its　farthest　limits　of　endurance。

Seeing　it　for　the　first　time；　Courtier　said：

〃Fine　thingthat！　　Only　wants　a　soul。〃

Miltoun　nodded：

〃Sit　down；〃　he　said。

Courtier　sat　down。

There　followed　one　of　those　silences　in　which　men　whose　spirits；
though　different；　have　a　certain　bigness　in　commoncan　say　so　much
to　one　another：

At　last　Miltoun　spoke：

〃I　have　been　living　in　the　clouds；　it　seems。　　You　are　her　oldest
friend。　　The　immediate　question　is　how　to　make　it　easiest　for　her　in
face　of　this　miserable　rumour！〃

Not　even　Courtier　himself　could　have　put　such　whip…lash　sting　into
the　word　'miserable。'

He　answered：

〃Oh！　　take　no　notice　of　that。　　Let　them　stew　in　their　own　juice。　　She
won't　care。〃

Miltoun　listened；　not　moving　a　muscle　of　his　face。

〃Your　friends　here；〃　went　on　Courtier　with　a　touch　of　contempt；　〃seem
in　a　flutter。　　Don't　let　them　do　anything；　don't　let　them　say　a　word。
Treat　the　thing　as　it　deserves　to　be　treated。　　It'll　die。〃

Miltoun；　however；　smiled。

〃I'm　not　sure；〃　he　said；　〃that　the　consequences　will　be　as　you　think；
but　I　shall　do　as　you　say。〃

〃As　for　your　candidature；　any　man　with　a　spark　of　generosity　in　his
soul　will　rally　to　you　because　of　it。〃

〃Possibly；〃　said　Miltoun。　　〃