the story of an african farm-第40章

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desert　me　and　go　to　another。〃



She　shook　her　head　without　looking　at　him。



〃No；　life　is　too　long。　　But　I　will　go　with　you。〃



〃When？〃



〃Tomorrow。　　I　have　told　them　that　before　daylight　I　go　to　the　next　farm。　　I

will　write　from　the　town　and　tell　them　the　facts。　　I　do　not　want　them　to

trouble　me；　I　want　to　shake　myself　free　of　these　old　surroundings；　I　want

them　to　lose　sight　of　me。　　You　can　understand　that　is　necessary　for　me。〃



He　seemed　lost　in　consideration；　then　he　said：



〃It　is　better　to　have　you　on　those　conditions　than　not　at　all。　　If　you　will

have　it；　let　it　be　so。〃



He　sat　looking　at　her。　　On　her　face　was　the　weary　look　that　rested　there　so

often　now　when　she　sat　alone。　　Two　months　had　not　passed　since　they　parted；

but　the　time　had　set　its　mark　on　her。　　He　looked　at　her　carefully；　from　the

brown；　smooth　head　to　the　little　crossed　feet　on　the　floor。　　A　worn　look

had　grown　over　the　little　face；　and　it　made　its　charm　for　him　stronger。　

For　pain　and　time；　which　trace　deep　lines　and　write　a　story　on　a　human

face；　have　a　strangely　different　effect　on　one　face　and　another。　　The　face

that　is　only　fair；　even　very　fair；　they　mar　and　flaw；　but　to　the　face　whose

beauty　is　the　harmony　between　that　which　speaks　from　within　and　the　form

through　which　it　speaks；　power　is　added　by　all　that　causes　the　outer　man　to

bear　more　deeply　the　impress　of　the　inner。　　The　pretty　woman　fades　with　the

roses　on　her　cheeks；　and　the　girlhood　that　lasts　an　hour；　the　beautiful

woman　finds　her　fullness　of　bloom　only　when　a　past　has　written　itself　on

her；　and　her　power　is　then　most　irresistible　when　it　seems　going。



From　under　their　half…closed　lids　the　keen　eyes　looked　down　at　her。　　Her

shoulders　were　bent；　for　a　moment　the　little　figure　had　forgotten　its

queenly　bearing；　and　drooped　wearily；　the　wide；　dark　eyes　watched　the　fire

very　softly。



It　certainly　was　not　in　her　power　to　resist　him；　nor　any　strength　in　her

that　made　his　own　at　that　moment　grow　soft　as　he　looked　at　her。



He　touched　one　little　hand　that　rested　on　her　knee。



〃Poor　little　thing！〃　he　said；　〃you　are　only　a　child。〃



She　did　not　draw　her　hand　away　from　his；　and　looked　up　at　him。



〃You　are　very　tired？〃



〃Yes。〃



She　looked　into　his　eyes　as　a　little　child　might　whom　a　long　day's　play　had

saddened。



He　lifted　her　gently　up；　and　sat　her　on　his　knee。



〃Poor　little　thing！〃　he　said。



She　turned　her　face　to　his　shoulder；　and　buried　it　against　his　neck；　he

wound　his　strong　arm　about　her；　and　held　her　close　to　him。　　When　she　had

sat　for　a　long　while；　he　drew　with　his　hand　the　face　down；　and　held　it

against　his　arm。　　He　kissed　it；　and　then　put　it　back　in　its　old　resting…

place。



〃Don't　you　want　to　talk　to　me？〃



〃No。〃



〃Have　you　forgotten　the　night　in　the　avenue？〃



He　could　feel　that　she　shook　her　head。



〃Do　you　want　to　be　quiet　now？〃



〃Yes。〃



They　sat　quite　still；　excepting　that　only　sometimes　he　raised　her　fingers

softly　to　his　mouth。



Doss；　who　had　been　asleep　in　the　corner；　waking　suddenly；　planted　himself

before　them；　his　wiry　legs　moving　nervously；　his　yellow　eyes　filled　with

anxiety。　　He　was　not　at　all　sure　that　she　was　not　being　retained　in　her

present　position　against　her　will；　and　was　not　a　little　relieved　when　she

sat　up　and　held　out　her　hand　for　the　shawl。



〃I　must　go；〃　she　said。



The　stranger　wrapped　the　shawl　very　carefully　about　her。



〃Keep　it　close　around　your　face；　Lyndall；　it　is　very　damp　outside。　　Shall　I

walk　with　you　to　the　house？〃



〃No。　　Lie　down　and　rest；　I　will　come　and　wake　you　at　three　o'clock。〃



She　lifted　her　face　that　he　might　kiss　it；　and；　when　he　had　kissed　it　once；

she　still　held　it　that　he　might　kiss　it　again。　　Then　he　let　her　out。　　He

had　seated　himself　at　the　fireplace；　when　she　reopened　the　door。



〃Have　you　forgotten　anything？〃



〃No。〃



She　gave　one　long；　lingering　look　at　the　old　room。　　When　she　was　gone；　and

the　door　shut；　the　stranger　filled　his　glass；　and　sat　at　the　table　sipping

it　thoughtfully。



The　night　outside　was　misty　and　damp；　the　faint　moonlight；　trying　to　force

its　way　through　the　thick　air；　made　darkly　visible　the　outlines　of　the

buildings。　　The　stones　and　walls　were　moist；　and　now　and　then　a　drop；

slowly　collecting；　fell　from　the　eaves　to　the　ground。　　Doss；　not　liking　the

change　from　the　cabin's　warmth；　ran　quickly　to　the　kitchen　doorstep；　but

his　mistress　walked　slowly　past　him；　and　took　her　way　up　the　winding

footpath　that　ran　beside　the　stone　wall　of　the　camps。　　When　she　came　to　the

end　of　the　last　camp；　she　threaded　her　way　among　the　stones　and　bushes　till

she　reached　the　German's　grave。　　Why　she　had　come　there　she　hardly　knew；

she　stood　looking　down。　　Suddenly　she　bent　and　put　one　hand　on　the　face　of

a　wet　stone。



〃I　shall　never　come　to　you　again；〃　she　said。



Then　she　knelt　on　the　ground；　and　leaned　her　face　upon　the　stones。



〃Dear　old　man；　good　old　man；　I　am　so　tired！〃　she　said　（for　we　will　come　to

the　dead　to　tell　secrets　we　would　never　have　told　to　the　living）。　　I　am　so

tired。　　There　is　light；　there　is　warmth；〃　she　wailed；　〃why　am　I　alone；　so

hard；　so　cold？　　I　am　so　weary　of　myself！　　It　is　eating　my　soul　to　its　core…

…self；　self；　self！　　I　cannot　bear　this　life！　　I　cannot　breathe；　I　cannot

live！　　Will　nothing　free　me　from　myself？〃　　She　pressed　her　cheek　against

the　wooden　post。　　〃I　want　to　love！　　I　want　something　great　and　pure　to　lift

me　to　itself！　　Dear　old　man；　I　cannot　bear　it　any　more！　　I　am　so　cold；　so

hard；　so　hard；　will　no　one　help　me？〃



The　water　gathered　slowly　on　her　shawl；　and　fell　on　to　the　wet　stones；　but

she　lay　there　crying　bitterly。　　For　so　the　living　soul　will　cry　to　the

dead；　and　the　creature　to　its　God；　and　of　all　this　crying　there　comes

nothing。　　The　lifting　up　of　the　hands　brings　no　salvation；　redemption　is

from　within；　and　neither　from　God　nor　man；　it　is　wrought　out　by　the　soul

itself；　with　suffering　and　through　time。



Doss；　on　the　kitchen　doorstep；　shivered；　and　wondered　where　his　mistress

stayed　so　long；　and　once；　sitting　sadly　there　in　the　damp；　he　had　dropped

asleep；　and　dreamed　that　old　Otto　gave　him　a　piece　of　bread；　and　patted　him

on　the　head；　and　when　he　woke　his　teeth　chattered；　and　he　moved　to　another

stone　to　see　if　it　was　drier。　　At　last　he　heard　his　mistress'　step；　and

they　went　into　the　house　together。　　She　lit　a　candle；　and　walked　to　the

Boer…woman's　bedroom。　　On　a　nail　under　the　lady　in　pink　hung　the　key　of　the

wardrobe。　　She　took　it　down　and　opened　the　great　press。　　From　a　little

drawer　she　took　fifty　pounds　（all　she　had　in　the　world）；　relocked　the　door；

and　turned　to　hang　up　the　key。　　The　marks　of　tears　were　still　on　her　face；

but　she　smiled。　　Then　she　paused；　hesitated。



〃Fifty　pounds　for　a　lover！　　A　noble　reward！〃　she　said；　and　opened　the

wardrobe　and　returned　the　notes　to　the　drawer；　where　Em　might　find　them。



Once　in　her　own　room；　she　arranged　the　few　articles　she　intended　to　take

tomorrow；　burnt　her　old　letters；　and　then　went　back　to　the　front　room　to

look　at　the　time。　　There　were　two　hours　yet　before　she　must　call　him。　　She

sat　down　at　the　dressing…table　to　wait；　and　leaned　her　elbows　on　it；　and

buried　her　face　in　her　hands。　　The　glass　reflected　the　little　brown　head

with　its　even　parting；　and　the　tiny　hands　on　which　it　rested。　　〃One　day　I

will　love　something　utterly；　and　then　I　will　be　better；〃　she　said　once。　

Presently　she　looked　up。　　The　large；　dark　eyes　from　the　glass　looked　back

at　her。　　She　looked　deep　into　them。



〃We　are　all　alone；　you　and　I；〃　she　whispered；　〃no　one　helps　us；　no　one

understands　us；　but　we　will　help　ourselves。〃　　The　eyes　looked　back　at　her。

There　was　a　world　of　assurance　in　their　still　depths。　　So　they　had　looked

at　her　ever　since　she　could　remember；　when　it　was　but　a　small　child's　face

above　a　blue　pinafore。　　〃We　shall　never　be　quite　alone；　you　and　I；〃　she

said；　〃we　shall　always　be　together；　as　we　were　when　we　were　little。〃



The　beautiful　eyes　looked　into　the　depths　of　her　soul。



〃We　are　not　afraid；　we　will　help　ourselves！〃　she　said。　　She　stretched　out

her　hand　and　pressed　it　over　them　on　the　glass。　　〃Dear　eyes！　we　will　never

be　quite　alone　till　they　part　ustill　then！〃





Chapter　2。X。　　Gregory　Rose　Has　An　Idea。



Gregory　Rose　was　in　the　loft　putting　it　neat。　　Outside　the　rain　poured；　a

six　months'　drought　had　broken；　and　the　thirsty　plain　was　drenched　with

water。　　What　it　could　not　swallow　ran　off　in　mad　rivulets　to　the　great

sloot；　that　now　foamed　like　an　angry　river　across　the　flat。　　Even　the

little　furrow　between　the　farmhouse　and　the　kraals　was　now　a　stream；　knee…

deep；　which　almost　bore　away　the　Kaffer　women　who　crossed　it。　　It　had

rained　for　twenty…four　hours；　and　still　the　rain　poured　on。　　The　fowls　had

collecteda　melancholy　crowdin　and　about　the　wagon…house；　and　the

solitary　gander；　who　alone　had　survived　the　six　months'　want　of　water；

walked　hither　and　thither；　printing　his　webbed　footmarks　on　the　mud；　to

have　them　washed　out　the　next　instant　by　the　pelting　rain；　which　at　eleven

o'clock　still　beat　on　the　walls　and　roofs　with　unabated　ardour。



Gregory；　as　he　worked　in　the　loft；　took　no　notice　of　it　beyond　stuffing　a

sack　into　the　broken　pane　to　keep　it　out；　and；　in　spite　of　the　pelt　and

patter；　Em's　clear　voice　might　be　heard　through　the　open　trap…door　from　the

dining　room；　where　she　sat　at　work；　singing　the　〃Blue　Water：〃



〃And　take　me　away；

　And　take　me　away；

　And　take　me　away；

　To　the　Blue　Water〃



that　quaint；　childish　song　of　the　people；　that　has　a　world　of　sweetness；

and　sad；　vague　yearning　when　sung　over　and　over　dreamily　by　a　woman's　voice

as　she　sits　alone　at　her　work。



But　Gregory　heard　neither　that　nor　yet　the　loud　laughter　of　the　Kaffer

maids；　that　every　now　and　again　broke　through　from　the　kitchen；　where　they

joked　and　worked。　　Of　late　Gregory　had　grown　strangely　impervious　to　the

sounds　and　sights　about　him。　　His　lease　had　run　out；　but　Em　had　said；　〃Do

not　renew　it；　I　need　one　to　help　me；　just　stay　on。〃　　And；　she　had　added；

〃You　must　not　remain　in　your　own　little　house；　live　with　me；　you　can　look

after　my　ostriches　better　so。〃



And　Gregory　did　not　thank　her。　　What　difference　did　it　make　to　him；　paying

rent　or　not；　living　there　or　not；　it　was　all　one。　　But　yet　he　came。　　Em

wished　that　he　would　still　sometimes　talk　of　the　strength　of　the　master…

right　of　man；　but　Gregory　was　as　one　smitten　on　the　cheek…bone。



She　might　do　what　she　pleased；　he　would　find　no　fault；　had　no　word　to　say。

He　had　forgotten　that　it　is　man's　right　to　rule。　　On　that　rainy　morning　he

had　lighted　his　pipe　at　the　kitchen　fire；　and　when　breakfast　was　over　stood

in　the　front　door　watching　the　water　rush　down　the　road　till　the　pipe　died

out　in　his　mouth。　　Em　saw　she　must　do　something　for　him；　and　found　him　a

large　calico　duster。　　He　had　sometimes　t