the turmoil-第17章

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his　helpless　customer's　cheek；　while　his　right　hand　hung　poised　above　　it；　the

razor　motionless。　　And　then；　roused　from　trance　by　the　door's　　closing；　he

accepted　the　fact　of　Sheridan's　presence。　　The　barber　　remembered　that　there

are　no　circumstances　in　lifeor　just　after　it　under　which　a　man　does　not

need　to　be　shaved。



He　stepped　forward；　profoundly　graave。　　〃I　be　through　with　this　man　in　　the

chair　one　minute；　Mist'　Sheridan；〃　he　said；　in　a　hushed　tone。　　〃Yessuh。〃　And

of　a　solemn　negro　youth　who　stood　by；　gazing　stupidly；　〃You　goin'　　RESIGN？〃　he

demanded　in　a　fierce　undertone。　　〃You　goin'　take　Mist'　　Sheridan's　coat？〃　　He

sent　an　angry　look　round　the　shop；　and　the　barbers；　　taking　his　meaning；

averted　their　eyes　and　fell　to　work；　the　murmur　of　　subdued　conversation

buzzing　from　chair　to　chair。



〃You　sit　down　ONE　minute；　Mist'　Sheridan；〃　said　the　head　barber；　gently。　　　〃I

fix　nice　chair　fo'　you　to　wait　in。〃



〃Never　mind；〃　said　Sheridan。　　〃Go　on　get　through　with　your　man。〃



〃Yessuh。〃　　And　he　went　quickly　back　to　his　chair　on　tiptoe；　followed　by

Sheridan's　puzzled　gaze。



Something　had　gone　wrong　in　the　shop；　evidently。　　Sheridan　did　not　know　　what

to　make　of　it。　　Ordinarily　he　would　have　shouted　a　hilarious　demand　　for　the

meaning　of　the　mystery；　but　an　inexplicable　silence　had　been　　imposed　upon　him

by　the　hush　that　fell　upon　his　entrance　and　by　the　odd　　look　every　man　in　the

shop　had　bent　upon　him。



Vaguely　disquieted；　he　walked　to　one　of　the　seats　in　the　rear　of　the　　shop；

and　looked　up　and　down　the　two　lines　of　barbers；　catching　quickly　　shifted；

furtive　glances　here　and　there。　　He　made　this　brief　survey　after　　wondering　if

one　of　the　barbers　had　died　suddenly；　that　day；　or　the　night　　before；　but

there　was　no　vacancy　in　either　line。



The　seat　next　to　his　was　unoccupied；　but　some　one　had　left　a　copy　of　the

〃Extra〃　there；　and；　frowning；　he　picked　it　up　and　glanced　at　it。　　The　　first

of　the　swollen　display　lines　had　little　meaning　to　him：　　　　　Fatally　Faulty。

New　Process　Roof　Collapses　Hurling　Capitalist　　　　　to　Death　with　Inventor。　　Seven

Escape　When　Crash　Comes。　　Death　　　　Claims



Thus　far　had　he　read　when　a　thin　hand　fell　upon　the　paper；　covering　the　　print

from　his　eyes；　and；　looking　up；　he　saw　Bibbs　standing　before　him；　　pale　and

gentle；　immeasurably　compassionate。



〃I've　come　for　you；　father；〃　said　Bibbs。　　〃Here's　the　boy　with　your　coat　　and

hat。　　Put　them　on　and　come　home。〃



And　even　then　Sheridan　did　not　understand。　　So　secure　was　he　in　the　　strength

and　bigness　of　everything　that　was　his；　he　did　not　know　what　　calamity　had

befallen　him。　　But　he　was　frightened。



Without　a　word；　he　followed　Bibbs　heavily　out　throught　the　still　shop；　　but　as

they　reached　the　pavement　he　stopped　short　and；　grasping　his　son's　　sleeve

with　shaking　fingers；　swung　him　round　so　that　they　stood　face　to　　face。



〃Whatwhat〃　　His　mouth　could　not　do　him　the　service　he　asked　of　it；　　he　was

so　frightened。



〃Extry！〃　screamed　a　newsboy　straight　in　his　face。　　〃Young　North　Side

millionaire　insuntly　killed！　　Extry！〃



〃NotJIM！〃　said　Sheridan。



Bibbs　caught　his　father's　hand　in　his　own。



〃And　YOU　come　to　tell　me　that？〃



Sheridan　did　not　know　what　he　said。　　But　in　those　first　words　and　in　the

first　anguish　of　the　big；　stricken　face　Bibbs　understood　the　unuttered　　cry　of

accusation：



〃Why　wasn't　it　you？〃





Standing　in　the　black　group　under　gaunt　trees　at　the　cemetery；　three　days

later；　Bibbs　unwillingly　let　an　old；　old　thought　become　definite　in　his　　mind：

the　sickly　brother　had　buried　the　strong　brother；　and　Bibbs　　wondered　how　many

million　times　that　had　happened　since　men　first　made　a　　word　to　name　the　sons

of　one　mother。　　Almost　literally　he　had　buried　his　　strong　brother；　for

Sheridan　had　gone　to　pieces　when　he　saw　his　dead　son。　He　had　nothing　to　help

him　meet　the　shock；　neither　definite　religion　nor　　〃philosophy〃　definite　or

indefinite。　　He　could　only　beat　his　forehead　and　　beg；　over　and　over；　to　be

killed　with　an　ax；　while　his　wife　was　helpless　　except　to　entreat　him　not　to

〃take　on；〃　herself　adding　a　continuous　　lamentation。　　Edith；　weeping；　made

truce　with　Sibyl　and　saw　to　it　that　　the　mourning　garments　were　beyond

criticism。　　Roscoe　was　dazed；　and　he　　shirked；　justifying　himself　curiously　be

saying　he　〃never　had　any　　experience　in　such　matters。〃　　So　it　was　Bibbs；　the

shy　outsider；　who　　became；　during　this　dreadful　little　time；　the　master　of　the

house；　for　as　　strange　a　thing　as　that；　sometimes；　may　be　the　result　of　a

death。　　He　met　　the　relatives　from　out　of　town　at　the　station；　he　set　the　time

for　the　　funeral　and　the　time　for　meals；　he　selected　the　flowers　and　he

selected　　Jim's　coffin；　he　did　all　the　grim　things　and　all　the　other　things。

Jim　　had　belonged　to　an　order　of　Knights；　who　lengthened　the　rites　with　a

picturesque　ceremony　of　their　own；　and　at　first　Bibbs　wished　to　avoid　　this；

but　upon　reflection　he　offered　no　objectionhe　divined　that　the　　Knights　and

their　service　would　be　not　precisely　a　consolation；　but　a　　satisfaction　to　his

father。　　So　the　Knights　led　the　procession；　with　　their　band　playing　a　dirge

part　of　the　long　way　to　the　cemetery；　and　then　　turned　back；　after　forming　in

two　lines；　plumed　hats　sympathetically　in　　hand；　to　let　the　hearse　and　the

carriages　pass　between。



〃Mighty　fine…lookin'　men；〃　said　Sheridan；　brokenly。　　〃They　allall　　liked

him。　　He　was〃　　His　breath　caught　in　a　sob　and　choked　him。　　〃He　　wasa　Grand

Supreme　Herald。〃



Bibbs　had　divined　aright。



〃Dust　to　dust；〃　said　the　minister；　under　the　gaunt　trees；　and　at　that

Sheridan　shook　convulsively　from　head　to　foot。　　All　of　the　black　group

shivered；　execpt　Bibbs；　when　it　came　to　〃Dust　to　dust。〃　　Bibbs　stood　　passive；

for　he　was　the　only　one　of　them　who　had　known　that　thought　as　a　　familiar

neighbor；　he　had　been　close　upon　dust　himself　for　a　long；　long　　time；　and　even

now　he　could　prophesy　no　protracted　separation　between　　himself　and　dust。　　The

machine…shop　had　brought　him　very　close；　and　if　he　　had　to　go　back　it　would

probably　bring　him　closer　still；　so　closeas　　Dr。　Gurney　predictedthat　no

one　would　be　able　to　tell　the　difference　　between　dust　and　himself。　　And

Sheridan；　if　Bibbs　read　him　truly；　would　　be　all　the　more　determined　to　〃make

a　man〃　of　him；　now　that　there　was　a　　man　less　in　the　family。　　To　Bibbs's

knowledge；　no　one　and　nothing　had　　ever　prevented　his　father　from　carrying

through　his　plans；　once　he　had　　determined　upon　them；　and　Sheridan　was

incapable　of　believing　that　any　　plan　of　his　would　not　work　out　according　to

his　calculations。　　His　nature　　unfitted　him　to　accept　failure。　　He　had　the

gift　of　terrible　persistence；　　and　with　unflecked　confidence　that　his　way　was

the　only　way　he　would　hold　　to　that　way　of　〃making　a　man〃　of　Bibbs；　who

understood　very　well；　in　his　　passive　and　impersonal　fashion；　that　it　was　a

way　which　might　make；　not　a　　man；　but　dust　of　him。　　But　he　had　no　shudder　for

the　thought。



He　had　no　shudder　for　that　thought　or　for　any　other　thought。　　The　truth　　about

Bibbs　was　in　the　poem　which　Edith　had　adopted：　he　had　so　thoroughly　　formed

the　over…sensitive　habit　of　hiding　his　feelings　that　no　doubt　he　　had

forgottenby　this　timewhere　he　had　put　some　of　them；　　especially　those

which　concerned　himself。　　But　he　had　not　hidden　his　　feelings　about　his　father

where　they　could　not　be　found。　　He　was　strange　　to　his　father；　but　his　father

was　not　strange　to　him。　　He　knew　that　　Sheridan's　plans　were　conceived　in　the

stubborn　belief　that　they　would　　bring　about　a　good　thing　for　Bibbs　himself；

and　whatever　the　result　was　　to　be；　the　son　had　no　bitterness。　　Far　otherwise；

for　as　he　looked　at　the　　big；　woeful　figure；　shaking　and　tortured；　an　almost

unbearable　pity　laid　　hands　upon　Bibbs's　throat。　　Roscoe　stood　blinking；　his

lip　quivering；　　Edith　wept　audibly；　Mrs。　Sheridan　leaned　in　half　collapse

against　her　　husband；　but　Bibbs　knew　that　his　father　was　the　one　who　cared。



It　was　over。　　Men　in　overalls　stepped　forward　with　their　shovels；　and　　Bibbs

nodded　quickly　to　Roscoe；　making　a　slight　gesture　toward　the　line　　of　waiting

carriages。　　Roscoe　understoodBibbs　would　stay　and　see　the　　grave　filled；　the

rest　were　to　go。　　The　groups　began　to　move　away　over　　the　turf；　wheels　creaked

on　the　graveled　drive；　and　one　by　one　the　　carriages　filled　and　departed；　the

horses　setting　off　at　a　walk。　　Bibbs　　gazed　steadfastly　at　the　workmen；　he

knew　that　his　father　kept　looking　　back　as　he　went　toward　the　carriage；　and

that　was　a　thing　he　did　not　want　　to　see。　　But　after　a　little　while　there　were

no　sounds　of　wheels　or　hoofs　　on　the　gravel；　and　Bibbs；　glancing　up；　saw　that

every　one　had　gone。　　A　　coupe　had　been　left　for　him；　the　driver　dozing

patiently。



The　workmen　placed　the　flowers　and　wreaths　upon　the　mound　and　about　it；　　and

Bibbs　altered　the　position　of　one　or　two　of　these；　then　stood　looking

thoughtfully　at　the　grotesque　brilliancy　of　that　festal…seeming　hillock

beneath　the　darkening　November　sky。　　〃It's　too　bad！〃　he　half　whispered；　　his

lips　forming　the　wordsand　his　meaning　was　that　it　was　too　bad　　that　the

strong　brother　had　been　the　one　to　go。　　For　this　was　his　last　　thought　before

he　walked　to　the　coupe　and　saw　Mary　Vertrees　standing；　all　　alone；　on　the

other　side　of　the　drive。



She　had　just　emerged　from　a　grove　of　leafless　trees　that　grew　on　a　slope

where　the　tombs　were　many；　and　behind　her　rose　a　multitude　of　the　　barbaric

and　classic　shapes　we　so　strangely　strew　about　our　graveyards：　　urn…crowned

columns　and　stone…draped　obelisks；　shop…carved　angels　and　　shop…carved

children　poising　on　pillars　and　shafts；　all　liftingin　　unthought

pathostheir　blind　stoniness　toward　the　sky。　　Against　such　a　　background；

Bibbs　was　not　incongruous；　with　his　figure；　in　black；　so　long　　and　slender；

and　his　face　so　long　and　thin　and　white；　nor　was　the　　undertaker's　coupe　out

of　keeping；　with　the　shabby　driver　dozing　on　the　　box　and　the　shaggy　horses

standing　patiently　in　attitudes　without　hope　　and　without　regret。　　But　for

Mary　Vertrees；　here　was　a　grotesque　setting　　she　was　a　vivid；　living

creature　of　a　beautiful　world。　　And　a　　graveyard　is　not　the　place　for　people

to　look　charming。



She　also　looked　startled　and　confused；　but　not　more　startled　and　confused

than　Bibbs。　　In　〃Edith's〃　poem　he　had　declared　his　intention　of　hiding　　his

heart　〃among　the　stars〃；　and　in　his　boyhood　one　day　he　had　　successfully

hidden　his　body　in　the　coal…pile。　　He　had　been　no　comrade　of　　other　boys　or　of

girls；　and　his　acquaintances　of　a　recent　period　were　　only　a　few

fellow…invalids　and　the　nurses　at　the　Hood　Sanitarium。　　All　　his　life　Bibbs

had　kept　himself　to　himselfhe　was　but　a　shy　onlooker　　in　the　world。

Nevertheless；　the　startled　gaze　he　bent　upon　the　　unexpected　lady　before　him

had　causes　other　than　his　shyness　and　her　　unexpectedness。　　For　Mary　Vertrees

had　been　a　shining　f