the friendly road-第21章

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It　was　then　that　he　began　to　see　clearly　what　it　all　meant。　He　said　he　made　a　great　discovery：　that　the　〃black　people〃　against　whom　they　had　struck　in　1894　were　not　to　blame！

〃I　tell　you；〃　said　he；　〃we　found　when　we　got　started　that　them　black　peoplewe　used　to　call　'em　dagoeswere　just　workin'　people　like　usand　in　hell　with　us。　They　were　good　soldiers；　them　Eyetalians　and　Poles　and　Syrians；　they　fought　with　us　to　the　end。〃

I　shall　not　soon　forget　the　intensely　dramatic　but　perfectly　simple　way　in　which　he　told　me　how　he　came；　as　he　said；　〃to　see　the　true　light。〃　Holding　up　his　maimed　right　hand　（that　trembled　a　little）；　he　pointed　one　finger　upward。

〃I　seen　the　big　hand　in　the　sky；〃　he　said；　〃I　seen　it　as　clear　as　daylight。〃

He　said　he　saw　at　last　what　Socialism　meant。　One　day　he　went　home　from　a　strikers'　meetingone　of　the　last；　for　the　men　were　worn　out　with　their　long　struggle。　It　was　a　bitter　cold　day；　and　he　was　completely　discouraged。　When　he　reached　his　own　street　he　saw　a　pile　of　household　goods　on　the　sidewalk　in　front　of　his　home。　He　saw　his　wife　there　wringing　her　hands　and　crying。　He　said　he　could　not　take　a　step　further；　but　sat　down　on　a　neighbour's　porch　and　looked　and　looked。　〃It　was　curious；〃　he　said；　〃but　the　only　thing　I　could　see　or　think　about　was　our　old　family　clock　which　they　had　stuck　on　top　of　the　pile；　half　tipped　over。　It　looked　odd　and　I　wanted　to　set　it　up　straight。　It　was　the　clock　we　bought　when　we　were　married；　and　we'd　had　it　about　twenty　years　on　the　mantel　in　the　livin'…room。　It　was　a　good　clock；〃　he　said。

He　paused　and　then　smiled　a　little。

〃I　never　have　figured　it　out　why　I　should　have　been　able　to　think　of　nothing　but　that　clock；〃　he　said；　〃but　so　it　was。〃

When　he　got　home；　he　found　his　frail　daughter　just　coming　out　of　the　empty　house；　〃coughing　as　though　she　was　dyin'。〃　Something；　he　said；　seemed　to　stop　inside　him。　Those　were　his　words：　〃Something　seemed　to　stop　inside　'o　me。〃

He　turned　away　without　saying　a　word；　walked　back　to　strike　headquarters；　borrowed　a　revolver　from　a　friend；　and　started　out　along　the　main　road　which　led　into　the　better　part　of　the　town。

〃Did　you　ever　hear　o'　Robert　Winter？〃　he　asked。

〃No；〃　said　I。

〃Well；　Robert　Winter　was　the　biggest　gun　of　'em　all。　He　owned　the　mills　there　and　the　largest　store　and　the　newspaper　he　pretty　nearly　owned　the　town。〃

He　told　me　much　more　about　Robert　Winter　which　betrayed　still　a　curious　sort　of　feudal　admiration　for　him；　and　for　his　great　place　and　power；　but　I　need　not　dwell　on　it　here。　He　told　me　how　he　climbed　through　a　hemlock　hedge　（for　the　stone　gateway　was　guarded）　and　walked　through　the　snow　toward　the　great　house。

〃An'　all　the　time　I　seemed　to　be　seein'　my　daughter　Margy　right　there　before　my　eyes　coughing　as　though　she　was　dyin'。〃

It　was　just　nightfall　and　all　the　windows　were　alight。　He　crept　up　to　a　clump　of　bushes　under　a　window　and　waited　there　a　moment　while　he　drew　out　and　cocked　his　revolver。　Then　he　slowly　reached　upward　until　his　head　cleared　the　sill　and　he　could　look　into　the　room。　〃A　big；　warm　room；〃　he　described　it。

〃Comrade；〃　said　he；　〃I　had　murder　in　my　heart　that　night。〃

So　he　stood　there　looking　in　with　the　revolver　ready　cocked　in　his　hand。

〃And　what　do　you　think　I　seen　there？〃　he　asked。

〃I　cannot　guess；〃　I　said。

〃Well；〃　said　Bill　Hahn；　〃I　seen　the　great　Robert　Winter　that　we　had　been　fighting　for　five　long　monthsand　he　was　down　on　his　hands　and　knees　on　the　carpethe　had　his　little　daughter　on　his　backand　he　was　creepin'　about　with　heran'　she　was　laughin'。〃

Bill　Hahn　paused。

〃I　had　a　bead　on　him；〃　he　said；　〃but　I　couldn't　do　itI　just　couldn't　do　it。〃

He　came　away　all　weak　and　trembling　and　cold；　and；　〃Comrade；〃　he　said；　〃I　was　cryin'　like　a　baby；　and　didn't　know　why。〃

The　next　day　the　strike　collapsed　and　there　was　the　familiar　stampede　for　work　but　Bill　Hahn　did　not　go　back。　He　knew　it　would　be　useless。　A　week　later　his　frail　daughter　died　and　was　buried　in　the　paupers　field。

〃She　was　as　truly　killed；〃　he　said；　〃as　though　some　one　had　fired　a　bullet　at　her　through　a　window。〃

〃And　what　did　you　do　after　that？〃　I　asked；　when　he　had　paused　for　a　long　time　with　his　chin　on　his　breast。

〃Well；〃　said　he；　〃I　did　a　lot　of　thinking　them　days；　and　I　says　to　myself：　'This　thing　is　wrong；　and　I　will　go　out　and　stop　itI　will　go　out　and　stop　it。'〃

As　he　uttered　these　words；　I　looked　at　him　curiouslyhis　absurd　flat　fur　hat　with　the　moth…eaten　ears；　the　old　bulging　overcoat；　the　round　spectacles；　the　scarred；　insignificant　facehe　seemed　somehow　transformed；　a　person　elevated　above　himself；　the　tool　of　some　vast　incalculable　force。

I　shall　never　forget　the　phrase　he　used　to　describe　his　own　feelings　when　he　had　reached　this　astonishing　decision　to　go　out　and　stop　the　wrongs　of　the　World。　He　said　he　〃began　to　feel　all　clean　inside。〃

〃I　see　it　didn't　matter　what　become　o'　me；　and　I　began　to　feel　all　clean　inside。〃

It　seemed；　he　explained；　as　though　something　big　and　strong　had　got　hold　of　him；　and　he　began　to　be　happy。

〃Since　then；〃　he　said　in　a　low　voice；　〃I've　been　happier　than　I　ever　was　before　in　all　my　life。　I　ain't　got　any　family；　nor　any　homerightly　speakin'nor　any　money；　but；　comrade；　you　see　here　in　front　of　you；　a　happy　man。〃

When　he　had　finished　his　story　we　sat　quiet　for　some　time。

〃Well；〃　said　he；　finally；　〃I　must　be　goin'。　The　committee　will　wonder　what's　become　o'　me。〃

I　followed　him　out　to　the　road。　There　I　put　my　hand　on　his　shoulder；　and　said：

〃Bill　Hahn；　you　are　a　better　man　than　I　am。〃

He　smiled；　a　beautiful　smile；　and　we　walked　off　together　down　the　road。

I　wish　I　had　gone　on　with　him　at　that　time　into　the　city；　but　somehow　I　could　not　do　it。　I　stopped　near　the　top　of　the　hill　where　one　can　see　in　the　distance　that　smoky　huddle　of　buildings　which　is　known　as　Kilburn；　and　though　he　urged　me；　I　turned　aside　and　sat　down　in　the　edge　of　a　meadow。　There　were　many　things　I　wanted　to　think　about；　to　get　clear　in　my　mind。

As　I　sat　looking　out　toward　that　great　city；　I　saw　three　men　walking　in　the　white　road。　As　I　watched　them；　I　could　see　them　coming　quickly；　eagerly。　Presently　they　threw　up　their　hands　and　evidently　began　to　shout；　though　I　could　not　hear　what　they　said。　At　that　moment　I　saw　my　friend　Bill　Hahn　running　in　the　road；　his　coat　skirts　flapping　heavily　about　his　legs。　When　they　met　they　almost　fell　into　another's　arms。

I　suppose　it　was　so　that　the　early　Christians；　those　who　hid　in　the　Roman　catacombs；　were　wont　to　greet　one　another。


So　I　sat　thinking。

〃A　man；〃　I　said　to　myself；　〃who　can　regard　himself　as　a　function；　not　an　end　of　creation；　has　arrived。〃

After　a　time　I　got　up　and　walked　down　the　hillsome　strange　force　carrying　me　onwardand　came　thus　to　the　city　of　Kilburn。



CHAPTER　X。　　I　AM　CAUGHT　UP　INTO　LIFE

I　can　scarcely　convey　in　written　words　the　whirling　emotions　I　felt　when　I　entered　the　city　of　Kilburn。　Every　sight；　every　sound；　recalled　vividly　and　painfully　the　unhappy　years　I　had　once　spent　in　another　and　greater　city。　Every　mingled　odour　of　the　streetsand　there　is　nothing　that　will　so　surely　re…create　（for　me）　the　inner　emotion　of　a　time　or　place　as　a　remembered　odourbrought　back　to　me　the　incidents　of　that　immemorial　existence。

For　a　time；　I　confess　it　frankly　here；　I　felt　afraid。　More　than　once　I　stopped　short　in　the　street　where　I　was　walking；　and　considered　turning　about　and　making　again　for　the　open　country。　Some　there　may　be　who　will　feel　that　I　am　exaggerating　my　sensations　and　impressions；　but　they　do　not　know　of　my　memories　of　a　former　life；　nor　of　how；　many　years　ago；　I　left　the　city　quite　defeated；　glad　indeed　that　I　was　escaping；　and　thinking　（as　I　have　related　elsewhere）　that　I　should　never　again　set　foot　upon　a　paved　street。　These　things　went　deep　with　me。　Only　the　other　day；　when　a　friend　asked　me　how　old　I　was；　I　responded　instantlyour　unpremeditated　words　are　usually　truestwith　the　date　of　my　arrival　at　this　farm。

〃Then　you　are　only　ten　years　old！〃　he　exclaimed　with　a　laugh；　thinking　I　was　joking。

〃Well；〃　I　said；　〃I　am　counting　only　the　years　worth　living。〃

No；　I　existed；　but　I　never　really　lived　until　I　was　reborn；　that　wonderful　summer　here　among　these　hills。

I　said　I　felt　afraid　in　the　streets　of　Kilburn；　but　it　was　no　physical　fear。　Who　could　be　safer　in　a　city　than　the　man　who　has　not　a　penny　in　his　pockets？　It　was　rather　a　strange；　deep；　spiritual　shrinking。　There　seemed　something　so　irresistible　about　this　life　of　the　city；　so　utterly　overpowering。　I　had　a　sense　of　being　smaller　than　I　had　previously　felt　myself；　that　in　some　way　my　personality；　all　that　was　strong　or　interesting　or　original　about　me；　was　being　smudged　over；　rubbed　out。　In　the　country　I　had　in　some　measure　come　to　command　life；　but　here；　it　seemed　to　me；　life　was　commanding　me　and　crushing　me　down。　It　is　a　difficult　thing　to　describe：　I　never　felt　just　that　way　before。

I　stopped　at　last　on　the　main　street　of　Kilburn　in　the　very　heart　of　the　town。　I　stopped　because　it　seemed　necessary　to　me；　like　a　man　in　a　flood；　to　touch　bottom；　to　get　hold　upon　something　immovable　and　stable。　It　was　just　at　that　hour　of　evening　when　the　stores　and　shops　are　pouring　forth　their　rivulets　of　humanity　to　join　the　vast　flood　of　the　streets。　I　stepped　quickly　aside　into　a　niche　near　the　corner　of　an　immense　building　of　brick　and　steel　and　glass；　and　there　I　stood　with　my　back　to　the　wall；　and　I　watched　the　restless；　whirling；　torrential　tide　of　the　streets。　I　felt　again；　as　I　had　not　felt　it　before　in　years；　the　mysterious　urge　of　the　citythe　sense　of　unending；　overpowering　movement。

There　was　another　strange；　indeed　uncanny；　sensation　that　began　to　creep　over　me　as　I　stood　there。　Though　hundreds　upon　hundreds　of　men　and　women　were　passing　me　every　minute；　not　one　of　them　seemed　to　see　me。　Most　of　them　did　not　even　look　in　my　direction；　and　those　who　did　turn　their　eyes　toward　me　see　me　to　glance　through　me　to　the　building　behind。　I　wonder　if　this　is　at　all　a　common　experience；　or　whether　I　was　unduly　sensitive　that　day；　unduly　wrought　up？　I　began　to　feel　like　one　clad　in　garments　of　invisibility。　I　could　see；　but　was　not　seen。　I　could　feel；　but　was　not　felt。　In　the　country　there　are　few　who　would　not　stop　to　speak　to　me；　or　at　least　appraise　me　with　their　eyes；　but　here　I　was　a　wraith；　a　ghostnot　a　palpable　human　being　at　all。　For　a　moment　I　felt　unutterably　lonely。

It　is　this　way　with　me。　When　I　have　reached　the　very　depths　of　any　serious　situation　or　tragic　emotion；　something　within　me　seems　at　last　to　stophow　shall　I　describe　it？and　I　rebound　suddenly　and　see　the　world；　as　it　were；　doublesee　that　my　condition　instead　of　being　serious　or　tragic　is　in　reality　amusingand　I　usually　came　out　of　it　with　an　utterly　absurd　or　whimsical　idea。　It　was　so　upon　this　occasion。　I　think　it　was　the　image　of　my　robust　self　as　a　wraith　that　did　it。

〃After　all；〃　I　said　aloud　taking　a　firm　hold　on　the　good　hard　flesh　of　one　of　my　legs；　〃this　is　positively　David　Grayson。〃

I　looked　out　again　into　that　tide　of　facesinteresting；　tired；　passive；　smiling；　sad；　but　above　all；　preoccupied　faces。

〃No　one；〃　I　thought；　〃seems　to　know　that　David　Grayson　has　come　to　town。〃

I　had　the　sudden；　a