the moon and sixpence(月球和六便士)-第38章
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these episodes with the life that I had seen Strickland live in Ashley
Gardens when he was occupied with stocks and shares； but I am aware
that Captain Nichols was an outrageous liar； and I dare say there is not a
word of truth in anything he told me。 I should not be surprised to learn
that he had never seen Strickland in his life； and owed his knowledge of
Marseilles to the pages of a magazine。
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Chapter XLVIII
It is here that I purposed to end my book。 My first idea was to begin
it with the account of Strickland's last years in Tahiti and with his horrible
death； and then to go back and relate what I knew of his beginnings。
This I meant to do； not from wilfulness； but because I wished to leave
Strickland setting out with I know not what fancies in his lonely soul for
the unknown islands which fired his imagination。 I liked the picture of
him starting at the age of forty…seven； when most men have already settled
comfortably in a groove； for a new world。 I saw him； the sea gray under
the mistral and foam…flecked； watching the vanishing coast of France；
which he was destined never to see again； and I thought there was
something gallant in his bearing and dauntless in his soul。 I wished so to
end on a note of hope。 It seemed to emphasise the unconquerable spirit
of man。 But I could not manage it。 Somehow I could not get into my
story； and after trying once or twice I had to give it up； I started from the
beginning in the usual way； and made up my mind I could only tell what I
knew of Strickland's life in the order in which I learnt the facts。
Those that I have now are fragmentary。 I am in the position of a
biologist who from a single bone must reconstruct not only the appearance
of an extinct animal； but its habits。 Strickland made no particular
impression on the people who came in contact with him in Tahiti。 To
them he was no more than a beach…comber in constant need of money；
remarkable only for the peculiarity that he painted pictures which seemed
to them absurd； and it was not till he had been dead for some years and
agents came from the dealers in Paris and Berlin to look for any pictures
which might still remain on the island； that they had any idea that among
them had dwelt a man of consequence。 They remembered then that they
could have bought for a song canvases which now were worth large sums；
and they could not forgive themselves for the opportunity which had
escaped them。 There was a Jewish trader called Cohen； who had come
by one of Strickland's pictures in a singular way。 He was a little old
Frenchman； with soft kind eyes and a pleasant smile； half trader and half
seaman； who owned a cutter in which he wandered boldly among the
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Paumotus and the Marquesas； taking out trade goods and bringing back
copra； shell； and pearls。 I went to see him because I was told he had a
large black pearl which he was willing to sell cheaply； and when I
discovered that it was beyond my means I began to talk to him about
Strickland。 He had known him well。
〃You see； I was interested in him because he was a painter；〃 he told me。
〃We don't get many painters in the islands； and I was sorry for him
because he was such a bad one。 I gave him his first job。 I had a
plantation on the peninsula； and I wanted a white overseer。 You never get
any work out of the natives unless you have a white man over them。 I
said to him： ‘You'll have plenty of time for painting； and you can earn a bit
of money。' I knew he was starving； but I offered him good wages。〃
〃I can't imagine that he was a very satisfactory overseer；〃 I said；
smiling。
〃I made allowances。 I have always had a sympathy for artists。 It is in
our blood； you know。 But he only remained a few months。 When he
had enough money to buy paints and canvases he left me。 The place had
got hold of him by then； and he wanted to get away into the bush。 But I
continued to see him now and then。 He would turn up in Papeete every
few months and stay a little while； he'd get money out of someone or other
and then disappear again。 It was on one of these visits that he came to
me and asked for the loan of two hundred francs。 He looked as if he
hadn't had a meal for a week； and I hadn't the heart to refuse him。 Of
course； I never expected to see my money again。 Well； a year later he
came to see me once more； and he brought a picture with him。 He did
not mention the money he owed me； but he said： ‘Here is a picture of
your plantation that I've painted for you。' I looked at it。 I did not know
what to say； but of course I thanked him； and when he had gone away I
showed it to my wife。〃
〃What was it like？〃 I asked。
〃Do not ask me。 I could not make head or tail of it。 I never saw
such a thing in my life。 ‘What shall we do with it？' I said to my wife。
‘We can never hang it up；' she said。 ‘People would laugh at us。' So she
took it into an attic and put it away with all sorts of rubbish； for my wife
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can never throw anything away。 It is her mania。 Then； imagine to
yourself； just before the war my brother wrote to me from Paris； and said：
‘Do you know anything about an English painter who lived in Tahiti？ It
appears that he was a genius； and his pictures fetch large prices。 See if
you can lay your hands on anything and send it to me。 There's money to
be made。' So I said to my wife。 ‘What about that picture that Strickland
gave me？' Is it possible that it is still in the attic？' ‘Without doubt；' she
answered； ‘ for you know that I never throw anything away。 It is my
mania。' We went up to the attic； and there； among I know not what rubbish
that had been gathered during the thirty years we have inhabited that house；
was the picture。 I looked at it again； and I said： ‘Who would have
thought that the overseer of my plantation on the peninsula； to whom I lent
two hundred francs； had genius？ Do you see anything in the picture？' ‘No；'
she said； ‘it does not resemble the plantation and I have never seen cocoa…
nuts with blue leaves； but they are mad in Paris； and it may be that your
brother will be able to sell it for the two hundred francs you lent
Strickland。' Well； we packed it up and we sent it to my brother。 And at
last I received a letter from him。 What do you think he said？ ‘I received
your picture；' he said； ‘and I confess I thought it was a joke that you had
played on me。 I would not have given the cost of postage for the picture。 I
was half afraid to show it to the gentleman who had spoken to me about it。
Imagine my surprise when he said it was a masterpiece； and offered me
thirty thousand francs。 I dare say he would have paid more； but frankly I
was so taken aback that I lost my head； I accepted the offer before I was
able to collect myself。'〃
Then Monsieur Cohen said an admirable thing。
〃I wish that poor Strickland had been still alive。 I wonder what he
would have said when I gave him twenty…nine thousand eight hundred
francs for his picture。〃
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Chapter XLIX
I lived at the Hotel de la Fleur； and Mrs。 Johnson； the proprietress；
had a sad story to tell of lost opportunity。 After Strickland's death certain
of his effects were sold by auction in the market…place at Papeete； and she
went to it herself because there was among the truck an American stove
she wanted。 She paid twenty…seven francs for it。
〃There were a dozen pictures；〃 she told me； 〃but they were unframed；
and nobody wanted them。 Some of them sold for as much as ten francs；
but mostly they went for five or six。 Just think； if I had bought them I
should be a rich woman now。〃
But Tiare Johnson would never under any circumstances have been
rich。 She could not keep money。 The daughter of a native and an
English sea…captain settled in Tahiti； when I knew her she was a woman of
fifty； who looked older； and of enormous proportions。 Tall and extremely
stout； she would have been of imposing presence if the great good…nature
of her face had not made it impossible for her to express anything but
kindliness。 Her arms were like legs of mutton； her breasts like giant
cabbages； her face； broad and fleshy； gave you an impression of almost
indecent nakedness； and vast chin succeeded to vast chin。 I do not know
how many of them there were。 They fell away voluminously into the
capaciousness of her bosom。 She was dressed usually in a pink Mother
Hubbard； and she wore all day long a large straw hat。 But when she let
down her hair； which she did now and then； for she was vain of it； you saw
that it was long and dark and curly； and her eyes had remained young and
vivacious。 Her laughter was the most catching I ever heard； it would
begin； a low peal in her throat； and would grow louder and louder till her
whole vast body sho
