an inland voyage-第15章

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and　you　　would　have　thought　it　impossible　to　tire　such　willing　marchers。

My　great　delight　in　Compiegne　was　the　town…hall。　　I　doted　upon　the　　town…hall。　　It　is　a　monument　of　Gothic　insecurity；　all　turreted；　　and　gargoyled；　and　slashed；　and　bedizened　with　half　a　score　of　　architectural　fancies。　　Some　of　the　niches　are　gilt　and　painted；　　and　in　a　great　square　panel　in　the　centre；　in　black　relief　on　a　　gilt　ground；　Louis　XII。　rides　upon　a　pacing　horse；　with　hand　on　hip　　and　head　thrown　back。　　There　is　royal　arrogance　in　every　line　of　　him；　the　stirruped　foot　projects　insolently　from　the　frame；　the　eye　　is　hard　and　proud；　the　very　horse　seems　to　be　treading　with　　gratification　over　prostrate　serfs；　and　to　have　the　breath　of　the　　trumpet　in　his　nostrils。　　So　rides　for　ever；　on　the　front　of　the　　town…hall；　the　good　king　Louis　XII。；　the　father　of　his　people。

Over　the　king's　head；　in　the　tall　centre　turret；　appears　the　dial　　of　a　clock；　and　high　above　that；　three　little　mechanical　figures；　　each　one　with　a　hammer　in　his　hand；　whose　business　it　is　to　chime　　out　the　hours　and　halves　and　quarters　for　the　burgesses　of　　Compiegne。　　The　centre　figure　has　a　gilt　breast…plate；　the　two　　others　wear　gilt　trunk…hose；　and　they　all　three　have　elegant；　　flapping　hats　like　cavaliers。　　As　the　quarter　approaches；　they　turn　　their　heads　and　look　knowingly　one　to　the　other；　and　then；　KLING　go　　the　three　hammers　on　three　little　bells　below。　　The　hour　follows；　　deep　and　sonorous；　from　the　interior　of　the　tower；　and　the　gilded　　gentlemen　rest　from　their　labours　with　contentment。

I　had　a　great　deal　of　healthy　pleasure　from　their　manoeuvres；　and　　took　good　care　to　miss　as　few　performances　as　possible；　and　I　found　　that　even　the　CIGARETTE；　while　he　pretended　to　despise　my　　enthusiasm；　was　more　or　less　a　devotee　himself。　　There　is　something　　highly　absurd　in　the　exposition　of　such　toys　to　the　outrages　of　　winter　on　a　housetop。　　They　would　be　more　in　keeping　in　a　glass　　case　before　a　Nurnberg　clock。　　Above　all；　at　night；　when　the　　children　are　abed；　and　even　grown　people　are　snoring　under　quilts；　　does　it　not　seem　impertinent　to　leave　these　ginger…bread　figures　　winking　and　tinkling　to　the　stars　and　the　rolling　moon？　　The　　gargoyles　may　fitly　enough　twist　their　ape…like　heads；　fitly　enough　　may　the　potentate　bestride　his　charger；　like　a　centurion　in　an　old　　German　print　of　the　VIA　DOLOROSA；　but　the　toys　should　be　put　away　　in　a　box　among　some　cotton；　until　the　sun　rises；　and　the　children　　are　abroad　again　to　be　amused。

In　Compiegne　post…office　a　great　packet　of　letters　awaited　us；　and　　the　authorities　were；　for　this　occasion　only；　so　polite　as　to　hand　　them　over　upon　application。

In　some　ways；　our　journey　may　be　said　to　end　with　this　letter…bag　　at　Compiegne。　　The　spell　was　broken。　　We　had　partly　come　home　from　　that　moment。

No　one　should　have　any　correspondence　on　a　journey；　it　is　bad　　enough　to　have　to　write；　but　the　receipt　of　letters　is　the　death　of　　all　holiday　feeling。

'Out　of　my　country　and　myself　I　go。'　　I　wish　to　take　a　dive　among　　new　conditions　for　a　while；　as　into　another　element。　　I　have　　nothing　to　do　with　my　friends　or　my　affections　for　the　time；　when　I　　came　away；　I　left　my　heart　at　home　in　a　desk；　or　sent　it　forward　　with　my　portmanteau　to　await　me　at　my　destination。　　After　my　　journey　is　over；　I　shall　not　fail　to　read　your　admirable　letters　　with　the　attention　they　deserve。　　But　I　have　paid　all　this　money；　　look　you；　and　paddled　all　these　strokes；　for　no　other　purpose　than　　to　be　abroad；　and　yet　you　keep　me　at　home　with　your　perpetual　　communications。　　You　tug　the　string；　and　I　feel　that　I　am　a　　tethered　bird。　　You　pursue　me　all　over　Europe　with　the　little　　vexations　that　I　came　away　to　avoid。　　There　is　no　discharge　in　the　　war　of　life；　I　am　well　aware；　but　shall　there　not　be　so　much　as　a　　week's　furlough？

We　were　up　by　six；　the　day　we　were　to　leave。　　They　had　taken　so　　little　note　of　us　that　I　hardly　thought　they　would　have　　condescended　on　a　bill。　　But　they　did；　with　some　smart　particulars　　too；　and　we　paid　in　a　civilised　manner　to　an　uninterested　clerk；　　and　went　out　of　that　hotel；　with　the　india…rubber　bags；　unremarked。　　　No　one　cared　to　know　about　us。　　It　is　not　possible　to　rise　before　a　　village；　but　Compiegne　was　so　grown　a　town；　that　it　took　its　ease　　in　the　morning；　and　we　were　up　and　away　while　it　was　still　in　　dressing…gown　and　slippers。　　The　streets　were　left　to　people　　washing　door…steps；　nobody　was　in　full　dress　but　the　cavaliers　upon　　the　town…hall；　they　were　all　washed　with　dew；　spruce　in　their　　gilding；　and　full　of　intelligence　and　a　sense　of　professional　　responsibility。　　KLING　went　they　on　the　bells　for　the　half…past　six　　as　we　went　by。　　I　took　it　kind　of　them　to　make　me　this　parting　　compliment；　they　never　were　in　better　form；　not　even　at　noon　upon　a　　Sunday。

There　was　no　one　to　see　us　off　but　the　early　washerwomen　…　early　　and　late　…　who　were　already　beating　the　linen　in　their　floating　　lavatory　on　the　river。　　They　were　very　merry　and　matutinal　in　their　　ways；　plunged　their　arms　boldly　in；　and　seemed　not　to　feel　the　　shock。　　It　would　be　dispiriting　to　me；　this　early　beginning　and　　first　cold　dabble　of　a　most　dispiriting　day's　work。　　But　I　believe　　they　would　have　been　as　unwilling　to　change　days　with　us　as　we　　could　be　to　change　with　them。　　They　crowded　to　the　door　to　watch　us　　paddle　away　into　the　thin　sunny　mists　upon　the　river；　and　shouted　　heartily　after　us　till　we　were　through　the　bridge。



CHANGED　TIMES



THERE　is　a　sense　in　which　those　mists　never　rose　from　off　our　　journey；　and　from　that　time　forth　they　lie　very　densely　in　my　note…　book。　　As　long　as　the　Oise　was　a　small　rural　river；　it　took　us　near　　by　people's　doors；　and　we　could　hold　a　conversation　with　natives　in　　the　riparian　fields。　　But　now　that　it　had　grown　so　wide；　the　life　　along　shore　passed　us　by　at　a　distance。　　It　was　the　same　difference　　as　between　a　great　public　highway　and　a　country　by…path　that　　wanders　in　and　out　of　cottage　gardens。　　We　now　lay　in　towns；　where　　nobody　troubled　us　with　questions；　we　had　floated　into　civilised　　life；　where　people　pass　without　salutation。　　In　sparsely　inhabited　　places；　we　make　all　we　can　of　each　encounter；　but　when　it　comes　to　　a　city；　we　keep　to　ourselves；　and　never　speak　unless　we　have　　trodden　on　a　man's　toes。　　In　these　waters　we　were　no　longer　strange　　birds；　and　nobody　supposed　we　had　travelled　farther　than　from　the　　last　town。　　I　remember；　when　we　came　into　L'Isle　Adam；　for　　instance；　how　we　met　dozens　of　pleasure…boats　outing　it　for　the　　afternoon；　and　there　was　nothing　to　distinguish　the　true　voyager　　from　the　amateur；　except；　perhaps；　the　filthy　condition　of　my　sail。　　　The　company　in　one　boat　actually　thought　they　recognised　me　for　a　　neighbour。　　Was　there　ever　anything　more　wounding？　　All　the　romance　　had　come　down　to　that。　　Now；　on　the　upper　Oise；　where　nothing　　sailed　as　a　general　thing　but　fish；　a　pair　of　canoeists　could　not　　be　thus　vulgarly　explained　away；　we　were　strange　and　picturesque　　intruders；　and　out　of　people's　wonder　sprang　a　sort　of　light　and　　passing　intimacy　all　along　our　route。　　There　is　nothing　but　tit…　for…tat　in　this　world；　though　sometimes　it　be　a　little　difficult　to　　trace：　　for　the　scores　are　older　than　we　ourselves；　and　there　has　　never　yet　been　a　settling…day　since　things　were。　　You　get　　entertainment　pretty　much　in　proportion　as　you　give。　　As　long　as　we　　were　a　sort　of　odd　wanderers；　to　be　stared　at　and　followed　like　a　　quack　doctor　or　a　caravan；　we　had　no　want　of　amusement　in　return；　　but　as　soon　as　we　sank　into　commonplace　ourselves；　all　whom　we　met　　were　similarly　disenchanted。　　And　here　is　one　reason　of　a　dozen；　　why　the　world　is　dull　to　dull　persons。

In　our　earlier　adventures　there　was　generally　something　to　do；　and　　that　quickened　us。　　Even　the　showers　of　rain　had　a　revivifying　　effect；　and　shook　up　the　brain　from　torpor。　　But　now；　when　the　　river　no　longer　ran　in　a　proper　sense；　only　glided　seaward　with　an　　even；　outright；　but　imperceptible　speed；　and　when　the　sky　smiled　　upon　us　day　after　day　without　variety；　we　began　to　slip　into　that　　golden　doze　of　the　mind　which　follows　upon　much　exercise　in　the　　open　air。　　I　have　stupefied　myself　in　this　way　more　than　once；　　indeed；　I　dearly　love　the　feeling；　but　I　never　had　it　to　the　same　　degree　as　when　paddling　down　the　Oise。　　It　was　the　apotheosis　of　　stupidity。

We　ceased　reading　entirely。　　Sometimes　when　I　found　a　new　paper；　I　　took　a　particular　pleasure　in　reading　a　single　number　of　the　　current　novel；　but　I　never　could　bear　more　than　three　instalments；　　and　even　the　second　was　a　disappointment。　　As　soon　as　the　tale　　became　in　any　way　perspicuous；　it　lost　all　merit　in　my　eyes；　only　a　　single　scene；　or；　as　is　the　way　with　these　FEUILLETONS；　half　a　　scene；　without　antecedent　or　consequence；　like　a　piece　of　a　dream；　　had　the　knack　of　fixing　my　interest。　　The　less　I　saw　of　the　novel；　　the　better　I　liked　it：　　a　pregnant　reflection。　　But　for　the　most　　part；　as　I　said；　we　neither　of　us　read　anything　in　the　world；　and　　employed　the　very　little　while　we　were　awake　between　bed　and　dinner　　in　poring　upon　maps。　　I　have　always　been　fond　of　maps；　and　can　　voyage　in　an　atlas　with　the　greatest　enjoyment。　　The　names　of　　places　are　singularly　inviting；　the　contour　of　coasts　and　rivers　is　　enthralling　to　the　eye；　and　to　hit；　in　a　map；　upon　some　place　you　　have　heard　of　before；　makes　history　a　new　possession。　　But　we　　thumbed　our　charts；　on　these　evenings；　with　the　blankest　unconcern。　　　We　cared　not　a　fraction　for　this　place　or　that。　　We　stared　at　the　　sheet　as　children　listen　to　their　rattle；　and　read　the　names　of　　towns　or　villages　to　forget　them　again　at　once。　　We　had　no　romance　　in　the　matter；　there　was　nobody　so　fancy…free。　　If　you　had　taken　　the　maps　away　while　we　were　studying　them　most　intently；　it　is　a　　fair　bet　whether　we　might　not　have　continued　to　study　the　table　　with　the　same　delight。

About　one　thing　we　were　mightily　taken　up；　and　that　was　eating。　　I　　think　I　made　a　god　of　my　belly。　　I　remember　dwelling　in　imagination　　upon　this　or　that　dish　till　my　mouth　watered；　and　long　before　we　　got　in　for　the　night　my　appetite　was　a　clamant；　instant　annoyance。　　　Sometimes　we　paddled　alongside　for　a　while　and　whetted　each　other　　with　gastronomical　fancies　as　we　went。　　Cake　and　sherry；　a　homely　　rejection；　but　not　within　reach　upon　the　Oise；　trotted　through　my　　head　for　many　a　mile；　and　once；　as　we　were　approaching　Verberie；　　the　CIGARETTE　brought　my　heart　into　my　mouth　by　the　suggestion　of　　oyster…patties　and　Sauterne。

I　suppose　none　of　us　recognise　the　great　part　that　is　played　in　　life　by　eating　and　drinking。　　The　appetite　is　so　imperious　that　we　　can　stomach　the　least　interesting　viands；　and　pass　off　a　dinner…　hour　thankfully　enough　on　bread　and　water；　just　as　there　are　men　　who　must　read　something；　if　it　were　only　BRADSHAW'S　GUIDE。　　But　　there　is　a　romance　about　the　matter　after　all。　　Probably　the　table　　has　more　devotees　than　love；　and　I　am　sure　that　food　is　much　more　　generally　entertaining　than　scenery。　　Do　you　give　in；　as　Walt　　Whitman　would　say；　that　you　are　any　the　less　immortal　for　that？　　　The　true　materialism　is　to　be　ashamed　of　what　we　are。　　To　detect　　the　flavour　of　an　olive　is　no　less　a　piece　of　human　pe