the patrician-第35章

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his　love；　must　he　bury　the　will　and　force　of　a　man？　　If　there　were　no
more　coherence　in　God's　scheme　than　this；　let　him　too　be　incoherent！
Let　him　hold　authority；　and　live　outside　authority！　　Why　stifle　his
powers　for　the　sake　of　a　coherence　which　did　not　exist！　　That　would
indeed　be　madness　greater　than　that　of　a　mad　world！

There　was　no　answer　to　his　thoughts　in　the　stillness　of　the　grove；
unless　it　were　the　cooing　of　a　dove；　or　the　faint　thudding　of　the
sheep　issuing　again　into　sunlight。　　But　slowly　that　stillness　stole
into　Miltoun's　spirit。　　〃Is　it　like　this　in　the　grave？〃　he　thought。
〃Are　the　boughs　of　those　trees　the　dark　earth　over　me？　　And　the　sound
in　them　the　sound　the　dead　hear　when　flowers　are　growing；　and　the
wind　passing　through　them？　　And　is　the　feel　of　this　earth　how　it
feels　to　lie　looking　up　for　ever　at　nothing？　　Is　life　anything　but　a
nightmare；　a　dream；　and　is　not　this　the　reality？　　And　why　my　fury；　my
insignificant　flame；　blowing　here　and　there；　when　there　is　really　no
wind；　only　a　shroud　of　still　air；　and　these　flowers　of　sunlight　that
have　been　dropped　on　me！　　Why　not　let　my　spirit　sleep；　instead　of
eating　itself　away　with　rage；　why　not　resign　myself　at　once　to　wait
for　the　substance；　of　which　this　is　but　the　shadow！〃

And　he　lay　scarcely　breathing；　looking　up　at　the　unmoving　branches
setting　with　their　darkness　the　pearls　of　the　sky。

〃Is　not　peace　enough？〃　he　thought。　　〃Is　not　love　enough？　　Can　I　not
be　reconciled；　like　a　woman？　　Is　not　that　salvation；　and　happiness？
What　is　all　the　rest；　but　'sound　and　fury；　signifying　nothing？〃

And　as　though　afraid　to　lose　his　hold　of　that　thought；　he　got　up　and
hurried　from　the　grove。

The　whole　wide　landscape　of　field　and　wood；　cut　by　the　pale　roads；
was　glimmering　under　the　afternoon　sun；　Here　was　no　wild；　wind…swept
land；　gleaming　red　and　purple；　and　guarded　by　the　grey　rocks；　no　home
of　the　winds；　and　the　wild　gods。　　It　was　all　serene　and　silver…
golden。　　In　place　of　the　shrill　wailing　pipe　of　the　hunting　buzzard…
hawks　half　lost　up　in　the　wind；　invisible　larks　were　letting　fall
hymns　to　tranquillity；　and　even　the　seano　adventuring　spirit
sweeping　the　shore　with　its　wingseemed　to　lie　resting　by　the　side
of　the　land。




CHAPTER　XV

When　on　the　afternoon　of　that　same　day　Miltoun　did　not　come；　all　the
chilly　doubts　which　his　presence　alone　kept　away；　crowded　thick　and
fast　into　the　mind　of　one　only　too　prone　to　distrust　her　own
happiness。　　It　could　not　lasthow　could　it？

His　nature　and　her　own　were　so　far　apart！　　Even　in　that　giving　of
herself　which　had　been　such　happiness；　she　had　yet　doubted；　for　there
was　so　much　in　him　that　was　to　her　mysterious。　　All　that　he　loved　in
poetry　and　nature；　had　in　it　something　craggy　and　culminating。　　The
soft　and　fiery；　the　subtle　and　harmonious；　seemed　to　leave　him　cold。
He　had　no　particular　love　for　all　those　simple　natural　things；　birds；
bees；　animals；　trees；　and　flowers；　that　seemed　to　her　precious　and
divine。

Though　it　was　not　yet　four　o'clock　she　was　already　beginning　to　droop
like　a　flower　that　wants　water。　　But　she　sat　down　to　her　piano；
resolutely；　till　tea　came；　playing　on　and　on　with　a　spirit　only　half
present；　the　other　half　of　her　wandering　in　the　Town；　seeking　for
Miltoun。　　After　tea　she　tried　first　to　read；　then　to　sew；　and　once
more　came　back　to　her　piano。　　The　clock　struck　six；　and　as　if　its
last　stroke　had　broken　the　armour　of　her　mind；　she　felt　suddenly　sick
with　anxiety。　　Why　was　he　so　long？　　But　she　kept　on　playing；　turning
the　pages　without　taking　in　the　notes；　haunted　by　the　idea　that　he
might　again　have　fallen　ill。　　Should　she　telegraph？　　What　good；　when
she　could　not　tell　in　the　least　where　he　might　be？　　And　all　the
unreasoning　terror　of　not　knowing　where　the　loved　one　is；　beset　her
so　that　her　hands；　in　sheer　numbness；　dropped　from　the　keys。　　Unable
to　keep　still；　now；　she　wandered　from　window　to　door；　out　into　the
little　hall；　and　back　hastily　to　the　window。　　Over　her　anxiety
brooded　a　darkness；　compounded　of　vague　growing　fears。　　What　if　it
were　the　end？　　What　if　he　had　chosen　this　as　the　most　merciful　way　of
leaving　her？　　But　surely　he　would　never　be　so　cruel！　　Close　on　the
heels　of　this　too　painful　thought　came　reaction；　and　she　told　herself
that　she　was　a　fool。　　He　was　at　the　House；　something　quite　ordinary
was　keeping　him。　　It　was　absurd　to　be　anxious！　　She　would　have　to　get
used　to　this　now。　　To　be　a　drag　on　him　would　be　dreadful。　　Sooner
than　that　she　would　ratheryesrather　he　never　came　back！　　And　she
took　up　her　book；　determined　to　read　quietly　till　he　came。　　But　the
moment　she　sat　down　her　fears　returned　with　redoubled　force…the　cold
sickly　horrible　feeling　of　uncertainty；　of　the　knowledge　that　she
could　do　nothing　but　wait　till　she　was　relieved　by　something　over
which　she　had　no　control。　　And　in　the　superstition　that　to　stay　there
in　the　window　where　she　could　see　him　come；　was　keeping　him　from　her；
she　went　into　her　bedroom。　　From　there　she　could　watch　the　sunset
clouds　wine…dark　over　the　river。　　A　little　talking　wind　shivered
along　the　houses；　the　dusk　began　creeping　in。　　She　would　not　turn　on
the　light；　unwilling　to　admit　that　it　was　really　getting　late；　but
began　to　change　her　dress；　lingering　desperately　over　every　little
detail　of　her　toilette；　deriving　therefrom　a　faint；　mysterious
comfort；　trying　to　make　herself　feel　beautiful。　　From　sheer　dread　of
going　back　before　he　came；　she　let　her　hair　fall；　though　it　was　quite
smooth　and　tidy；　and　began　brushing　it。　　Suddenly　she　thought　with
horror　of　her　efforts　at　adornmentby　specially　preparing　for　him；
she　must　seem　presumptuous　to　Fate。　　At　any　little　sound　she　stopped
and　stood　listeningsave　for　her　hair　and　eyes；　as　white　from　head
to　foot　as　a　double　narcissus　flower　in　the　dusk；　bending　towards
some　faint　tune　played　to　it　somewhere　oft　in　the　fields。　　But　all
those　little　sounds　ceased；　one　after　anotherthey　had　meant
nothing；　and　each　time；　her　spirit　returningwithin　the　pale　walls
of　the　room；　began　once　more　to　inhabit　her　lingering　fingers。
During　that　hour　in　her　bedroom　she　lived　through　years。　　It　was　dark
when　she　left　it。




CHAPTER　XVI

When　Miltoun　at　last　came　it　was　past　nine　o'clock。

Silent；　but　quivering　all　over；　she　clung　to　him　in　the　hall；　and
this　passion　of　emotion；　without　sound　to　give　it　substance；　affected
him　profoundly。　　How　terribly　sensitive　and　tender　she　was！　　She
seemed　to　have　no　armour。　　But　though　so　stirred　by　her　emotion；　he
was　none　the　less　exasperated。　　She　incarnated　at　that　moment　the
life　to　which　he　must　now　resign　himselfa　life　of　unending
tenderness；　consideration；　and　passivity。

For　a　long　time　he　could　not　bring　himself　to　speak　of　his　decision。
Every　look　of　her　eyes；　every　movement　of　her　body；　seemed　pleading
with　him　to　keep　silence。　　But　in　Miltoun's　character　there　was　an
element　of　rigidity；　which　never　suffered　him　to　diverge　from　an
objective　once　determined。

When　he　had　finished　telling　her；　she　only　said：

〃Why　can't　we　go　on　in　secret？〃

And　he　felt　with　a　sort　of　horror　that　he　must　begin　his　struggle
over　again。　　He　got　up；　and　threw　open　the　window。　　The　sky　was　dark
above　the　river；　the　wind　had　risen。　　That　restless　murmuration；　and
the　width　of　the　night　with　its　scattered　stars；　seemed　to　come
rushing　at　his　face。　　He　withdrew　from　it；　and　leaning　on　the　sill
looked　down　at　her。　　What　flower…like　delicacy　she　had！　　There
flashed　across　him　the　memory　of　a　drooping　blossom；　which；　in　the
Spring；　he　had　seen　her　throw　into　the　flames；　with　the　words：　〃I
can't　bear　flowers　to　fade；　I　always　want　to　burn　them。〃　　He　could
see　again　those　waxen　petals　yield　to　the　fierce　clutch　of　the　little
red　creeping　sparks；　and　the　slender　stalk　quivering；　and　glowing；
and　writhing　to　blackness　like　a　live　thing。　　And；　distraught；　he
began：

〃I　can't　live　a　lie。　　What　right　have　I　to　lead；　if　I　can't　follow？
I'm　not　like　our　friend　Courtier　who　believes　in　Liberty。　　I　never
have；　I　never　shall。　　Liberty？　　What　is　Liberty？　　But　only　those　who
conform　to　authority　have　the　right　to　wield　authority。　　A　man　is　a
churl　who　enforces　laws；　when　he　himself　has　not　the　strength　to
observe　them。　　I　will　not　be　one　of　whom　it　can　be　said：　'He　can　rule
others；　himself！〃

〃No　one　will　know。〃

Miltoun　turned　away。

〃I　shall　know；〃　he　said；　but　he　saw　clearly　that　she　did　not
understand　him。　　Her　face　had　a　strange；　brooding；　shut…away　look；　as
though　he　had　frightened　her。　　And　the　thought　that　she　could　not
understand；　angered　him。

He　said；　stubbornly：　〃No；　I　can't　remain　in　public　life。〃

〃But　what　has　it　to　do　with　politics？　　It's　such　a　little　thing。〃

〃If　it　had　been　a　little　thing　to　me；　should　I　have　left　you　at
Monkland；　and　spent　those　five　weeks　in　purgatory　before　my　illness？
A　little　thing！〃

She　exclaimed　with　sudden　fire：

〃Circumstances　aye　the　little　thing；　it's　love　that's　the　great
thing。〃

Miltoun　stared　at　her；　for　the　first　time　understanding　that　she　had
a　philosophy　as　deep　and　stubborn　as　his　own。　　But　he　answered
cruelly：

〃Well！　the　great　thing　has　conquered　me！〃

And　then　he　saw　her　looking　at　him；　as　if；　seeing　into　the　recesses
of　his　soul；　she　had　made　some　ghastly　discovery。　　The　look　was　so
mournful；　so　uncannily　intent　that　he　turned　away　from　it。

〃Perhaps　it　is　a　little　thing；〃　he　muttered；　〃I　don't　know。　　I　can't
see　my　way。　　I've　lost　my　bearings；　I　must　find　them　again　before　I
can　do　anything。〃

But　as　if　she　had　not　heard；　or　not　taken　in　the　sense　of　his　words；
she　said　again：

〃Oh！　don't　let　us　alter　anything；　I　won't　ever　want　what　you　can't
give。〃

And　this　stubbornness；　when　he　was　doing　the　very　thing　that　would
give　him　to　her　utterly；　seemed　to　him　unreasonable。

〃I've　had　it　out　with　myself；〃　he　said。　　〃Don't　let's　talk　about　it
any　more。〃

Again；　with　a　sort　of　dry　anguish；　she　murmured：

〃No；　no！　　Let　us　go　on　as　we　are！〃

Feeling　that　he　had　borne　all　he　could；　Miltoun　put　his　hands　on　her
shoulders；　and　said：　〃That's　enough！〃

Then；　in　sudden　remorse；　he　lifted　her；　and　clasped　her　to　him。

But　she　stood　inert　in　his　arms；　her　eyes　closed；　not　returning　his
kisses。




CHAPTER　XVII

On　the　last　day　before　Parliament　rose；　Lord　Valleys；　with　a　light
heart；　mounted　his　horse　for　a　gallop　in　the　Row。　　Though　she　was　a
blood　mare　he　rode　her　with　a　plain　snaffle；　having　the　horsemanship
of　one　who　has　hunted　from　the　age　of　seven；　and　been　for　twenty
years　a　Colonel　of　Yeomanry。　　Greeting　affably　everyone　he　knew；　he
maintained　a　frank　demeanour　on　all　subjects；　especially　of
Government　policy；　secretly　enjoying　the　surmises　and
prognostications；　so　pleasantly　wide　of　the　mark；　and　the　way
questions　and　hints　perished　before　his　sphinx…like　candour。　　He
spoke　cheerily　too　of　Miltoun；　who　was　'all　right　again；'　and
'burning　for　the　fray'　when　the　House　met　again　in　the　autumn。　　And
he　chaffed　Lord　Malvezin　about　his　wife。　　If　anythinghe　saidcould
make　Bertie　take　an　interest　in　politics；　it　would　be　she。　　He　had
two　capital　gallops；　being　well　known　to　the　police：　The　day　was
bright；　and　he　was　sorry　to　turn　home。　　Falling　in　with　Har