five tales-第33章
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urned the corner to the station he could stand it no more； and opening the carriage door； muttered： 〃I've forgotten something！ Go ondon't wait for me！ I'll join you at the castle by the next train！〃 He jumped； stumbled； spun round； recovered his balance； and walked forward； while the carriage with the astonished Hallidays rolled on。
》From the corner he could only just see Megan； a long way ahead now。 He ran a few steps； checked himself； and dropped into a walk。 With each step nearer to her； further from the Hallidays； he walked more and more slowly。 How did it alter anythingthis sight of her？ How make the going to her； and that which must come of it； less ugly？ For there was no hiding itsince he had met the Hallidays he had become gradually sure that he would not marry Megan。 It would only be a wild love…time； a troubled； remorseful； difficult timeand thenwell； then he would get tired； just because she gave him everything； was so simple； and so trustful； so dewy。 And dewwears off！ The little spot of faded colour； her tam…o'…shanter cap； wavered on far in front of him； she was looking up into every face； and at the house windows。 Had any man ever such a cruel moment to go through？ Whatever he did； he felt he would be a beast。 And he uttered a groan which made a nursemaid turn and stare。 He saw Megan stop and lean against the sea…wall； looking at the sea； and he too stopped。 Quite likely she had never seen the sea before； and even in her distress could not resist that sight。 'Yes…she's seen nothing；' he thought； 'everything's before her。 And just for a few weeks' passion； I shall be cutting her life to ribbons。 I'd better go and hang myself rather than do it！' And suddenly he seemed to see Stella's calm eyes looking into his； the wave of fluffy hair on her forehead stirred by the wind。 Ah！ it would be madness； would mean giving up all that he respected； and his own self…respect。 He turned and walked quickly back towards the station。 But memory of that poor； bewildered little figure； those anxious eyes searching the passers…by； smote him too hard again； and once more he turned towards the sea。
The cap was no longer visible； that little spot of colour had vanished in the stream of the noon promenaders。 And impelled by the passion of longing； the dearth which comes on one when life seems to be whirling something out of reach； he hurried forward。 She was nowhere to be seen； for half an hour he looked for her； then on the beach flung himself face downward in the sand。 To find her again he knew he had only to go to the station and wait till she returned from her fruitless quest； to take her train home； or to take train himself and go back to the farm； so that she found him there when she returned。 But he lay inert in the sand； among the indifferent groups of children with their spades and buckets。 Pity at her little figure wandering； seeking； was well…nigh merged in the spring…running of his blood； for it was all wild feeling nowthe chivalrous part； what there had been of it； was gone。 He wanted her again； wanted her kisses； her soft； little body； her abandonment； all her quick； warm； pagan emotion； wanted the wonderful feeling of that night under the moonlit apple boughs； wanted it all with a horrible intensity； as the faun wants the nymph。 The quick chatter of the little bright trout… stream； the dazzle of the buttercups； the rocks of the old 〃wild men〃； the calling of the cuckoos and yaffles； the hooting of the owls； and the red moon peeping out of the velvet dark at the living whiteness of the blossom； and her face just out of reach at the window； lost in its love…look； and her heart against his； her lips answering his； under the apple treeall this besieged him。 Yet he lay inert。 What was it which struggled against pity and this feverish longing； and kept him there paralysed in the warm sand？ Three flaxen headsa fair face with friendly bluegrey eyes； a slim hand pressing his； a quick voice speaking his name〃So you do believe in being good？〃 Yes； and a sort of atmosphere as of some old walled…in English garden； with pinks； and cornflowers； and roses； and scents of lavender and lilaccool and fair； untouched； almost holy all that he had been brought up to feel was clean and good。 And suddenly he thought： 'She might come along the front again and see me！' and he got up and made his way to the rock at the far end of the beach。 There； with the spray biting into his face； he could think more coolly。 To go back to the farm and love Megan out in the woods； among the rocks； with everything around wild and fittingthat； he knew； was impossible； utterly。 To transplant her to a great town； to keep； in some little flat or rooms； one who belonged so wholly to Naturethe poet in him shrank from it。 His passion would be a mere sensuous revel； soon gone； in London； her very simplicity； her lack of all intellectual quality； would make her his secret plaything nothing else。 The longer he sat on the rock； with his feet dangling over a greenish pool from which the sea was ebbing； the more clearly he saw this； but it was as if her arms and all of her were slipping slowly； slowly down from him； into the pool； to be carried away out to sea； and her face looking up； her lost face with beseeching eyes； and dark； wet hair…possessed； haunted； tortured him！ He got up at last； scaled the low rock…cliff； and made his way down into a sheltered cove。 Perhaps in the sea he could get back his control lose this fever！ And stripping off his clothes； he swam out。 He wanted to tire himself so that nothing mattered and swam recklessly； fast and far； then suddenly； for no reason； felt afraid。 Suppose he could not reach shore againsuppose the current set him outor he got cramp； like Halliday！ He turned to swim in。 The red cliffs looked a long way off。 If he were drowned they would find his clothes。 The Hallidays would know； but Megan perhaps neverthey took no newspaper at the farm。 And Phil Halliday's words came back to him again： 〃A girl at Cambridge I might have Glad I haven't got her on my mind！〃 And in that moment of unreasoning fear he vowed he would not have her on his mind。 Then his fear left him； he swam in easily enough； dried himself in the sun； and put on his clothes。 His heart felt sore； but no longer ached； his body cool and refreshed。
When one is as young as Ashurst； pity is not a violent emotion。 And； back in the Hallidays' sitting…room； eating a ravenous tea； he felt much like a man recovered from fever。 Everything seemed new and clear； the tea； the buttered toast and jam tasted absurdly good； tobacco had never smelt so nice。 And walking up and down the empty room； he stopped here and there to touch or look。 He took up Stella's work…basket； fingered the cotton reels and a gaily…coloured plait of sewing silks； smelt at the little bag filled with woodroffe she kept among them。 He sat down at the piano； playing tunes with one finger； thinking： 'To…night she'll play； I shall watch her while she's playing； it does me good to watch her。' He took up the book； which still lay where she had placed it beside him； and tried to read。 But Megan's little； sad figure began to come back at once； and he got up and leaned in the window； listening to the thrushes in the Crescent gardens； gazing at the sea； dreamy and blue below the trees。 A servant came in and cleared the tea away； and he still stood； inhaling the evening air； trying not to think。 Then he saw the Hallidays coming through the gate of the Crescent； Stella a little in front of Phil and the children； with their baskets； and instinctively he drew back。 His heart； too sore and discomfited； shrank from this encounter； yet wanted its friendly solacebore a grudge against this influence； yet craved its cool innocence； and the pleasure of watching Stella's face。 From against the wall behind the piano he saw her come in and stand looking a little blank as though disappointed； then she saw him and smiled； a swift； brilliant smile which warmed yet irritated Ashurst。
〃You never came after us； Frank。〃
〃No； I found I couldn't。〃
〃Look！ We picked such lovely late violets！〃 She held out a bunch。 Ashurst put his nose to them； and there stirred within him vague longings； chilled instantly by a vision of Megan's anxious face lifted to the faces of the passers…by。
He said shortly： 〃How jolly！〃 and turned away。 He went up to his room； and； avoiding the children； who were coming up the stairs； threw himself on his bed； and lay there with his arms crossed over his face。 Now that he felt the die really cast； and Megan given up； he hated himself； and almost hated the Hallidays and their atmosphere of healthy； happy English homes。
Why should they have chanced here； to drive away first loveto show him that he was going to be no better than a common seducer？ What right had Stella； with her fair； shy beauty； to make him know for certain that he would never marry Megan； and； tarnishing it all； bring him such bitterness of regretful longing and such pity？ Megan would be back by now； worn out by her miserable seekingpoor little thing！expecting； perhaps； to find him there when she reached home。 Ashurst bit at his sleeve； to stifle a groan of remorseful longing。 He went to dinner glum and silent； and his mood threw a dinge even over the children。 It was a melancholy； rather ill tempered evening； for they were all tired； several times he caught Stella looking at him with a hurt； puzzled expression； and this pleased his evil mood。 He slept miserably； got up quite early； and wandered out。 He went down to the beach。 Alone there with the serene； the blue； the sunlit sea； his heart relaxed a little。 Conceited foolto think that Megan would take it so hard！ In a week or two she would almost have forgotten！ And he well； he would have the reward of virtue！ A good young man！ If Stella knew； she would give him her blessing for resisting that devil she believed in； and he uttered a hard laugh。 But slowly the peace and beauty of sea and sky； the flight of the lonely seagulls； made him feel ashamed。 He bathed； and turned homewards。
In the Crescent gardens Stella herself was sitting on a camp stool； sketching。 He stole up close behind。 How fair and pretty she was； bent diligently； holding up her brush； measuring； wrinkling her brows。
He said gently：
〃Sorry I was such a beast last night； Stella。〃
She turned round； startled； flushed very pink； and said in her quick way：
〃It's all right。 I knew there was something。 Between friends it doesn't matter； does it？〃
Ashurst answered：
〃Between friendsand we are； aren't we？〃
She looked up at him； nodded vehemently； and her upper teeth gleamed again in that swift； brilliant smile。
Three days later he went back to London； travelling with the Hallidays。 He had not written to the farm。 What was there he could say？
On the last day of April in the following year he and Stella were married。。。。
Such were Ashurst's memories； sitting against the wall among the gorse； on his silver…wedding day。 At this very spot； where he had laid out the lunch； Megan must have stood outlined against the sky when he had first caught sight of her。 Of all queer coincidences！ And there moved in him a longing to go down and see again the
