weir of hermiston-第17章

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wheels　of　her　nature　ceased　to　go　round　so　madly；　and　she　sat　in　passive　

expectation；　a　quiet；　solitary　figure　in　the　midst　of　the　grey　moss。　　I　

have　said　she　was　no　hypocrite；　but　here　I　am　at　fault。　　She　never　

admitted　to　herself　that　she　had　come　up　the　hill　to　look　for　Archie。　　

And　perhaps　after　all　she　did　not　know；　perhaps　came　as　a　stone　falls。　　

For　the　steps　of　love　in　the　young；　and　especially　in　girls；　are　

instinctive　and　unconscious。



In　the　meantime　Archie　was　drawing　rapidly　near；　and　he　at　least　was　

consciously　seeking　her　neighbourhood。　　The　afternoon　had　turned　to　

ashes　in　his　mouth；　the　memory　of　the　girl　had　kept　him　from　reading　and　

drawn　him　as　with　cords；　and　at　last；　as　the　cool　of　the　evening　began　

to　come　on；　he　had　taken　his　hat　and　set　forth；　with　a　smothered　

ejaculation；　by　the　moor　path　to　Cauldstaneslap。　　He　had　no　hope　to　find　

her；　he　took　the　off　chance　without　expectation　of　result　and　to　relieve　

his　uneasiness。　　The　greater　was　his　surprise；　as　he　surmounted　the　

slope　and　came　into　the　hollow　of　the　Deil's　Hags；　to　see　there；　like　an　

answer　to　his　wishes；　the　little　womanly　figure　in　the　grey　dress　and　

the　pink　kerchief　sitting　little；　and　low；　and　lost；　and　acutely　

solitary；　in　these　desolate　surroundings　and　on　the　weather…beaten　stone　

of　the　dead　weaver。　　Those　things　that　still　smacked　of　winter　were　all　

rusty　about　her；　and　those　things　that　already　relished　of　the　spring　

had　put　forth　the　tender　and　lively　colours　of　the　season。　　Even　in　the　

unchanging　face　of　the　death…stone；　changes　were　to　be　remarked；　and　in　

the　channeled　lettering；　the　moss　began　to　renew　itself　in　jewels　of　

green。　　By　an　afterthought　that　was　a　stroke　of　art；　she　had　turned　up　

over　her　head　the　back　of　the　kerchief；　so　that　it　now　framed　becomingly　

her　vivacious　and　yet　pensive　face。　　Her　feet　were　gathered　under　her　on　

the　one　side；　and　she　leaned　on　her　bare　arm；　which　showed　out　strong　

and　round；　tapered　to　a　slim　wrist；　and　shimmered　in　the　fading　light。



Young　Hermiston　was　struck　with　a　certain　chill。　　He　was　reminded　that　

he　now　dealt　in　serious　matters　of　life　and　death。　　This　was　a　grown　

woman　he　was　approaching；　endowed　with　her　mysterious　potencies　and　

attractions；　the　treasury　of　the　continued　race；　and　he　was　neither　

better　nor　worse　than　the　average　of　his　sex　and　age。　　He　had　a　certain　

delicacy　which　had　preserved　him　hitherto　unspotted；　and　which　（had　

either　of　them　guessed　it）　made　him　a　more　dangerous　companion　when　his　

heart　should　be　really　stirred。　　His　throat　was　dry　as　he　came　near；　but　

the　appealing　sweetness　of　her　smile　stood　between　them　like　a　guardian　

angel。



For　she　turned　to　him　and　smiled；　though　without　rising。　　There　was　a　

shade　in　this　cavalier　greeting　that　neither　of　them　perceived；　neither　

he；　who　simply　thought　it　gracious　and　charming　as　herself；　nor　yet　she；　

who　did　not　observe　（quick　as　she　was）　the　difference　between　rising　to　

meet　the　laird；　and　remaining　seated　to　receive　the　expected　admirer。



〃Are　ye　stepping　west；　Hermiston？〃　said　she；　giving　him　his　territorial　

name　after　the　fashion　of　the　country…side。



〃I　was；〃　said　he；　a　little　hoarsely；　〃but　I　think　I　will　be　about　the　

end　of　my　stroll　now。　　Are　you　like　me；　Miss　Christina？　　The　house　would　

not　hold　me。　　I　came　here　seeking　air。〃



He　took　his　seat　at　the　other　end　of　the　tombstone　and　studied　her；　

wondering　what　was　she。　　There　was　infinite　import　in　the　question　alike　

for　her　and　him。



〃Ay；〃　she　said。　　〃I　couldna　bear　the　roof　either。　　It's　a　habit　of　mine　

to　come　up　here　about　the　gloaming　when　it's　quaiet　and　caller。〃



〃It　was　a　habit　of　my　mother's　also；〃　he　said　gravely。　　The　recollection　

half　startled　him　as　he　expressed　it。　　He　looked　around。　　〃I　have　scarce　

been　here　since。　　It's　peaceful；〃　he　said；　with　a　long　breath。



〃It's　no　like　Glasgow；〃　she　replied。　　〃A　weary　place；　yon　Glasgow！　　But　

what　a　day　have　I　had　for　my　homecoming；　and　what　a　bonny　evening！〃



〃Indeed；　it　was　a　wonderful　day；〃　said　Archie。　　〃I　think　I　will　remember　

it　years　and　years　until　I　come　to　die。　　On　days　like　this　…　I　do　not　

know　if　you　feel　as　I　do　…　but　everything　appears　so　brief；　and　fragile；　

and　exquisite；　that　I　am　afraid　to　touch　life。　　We　are　here　for　so　short　

a　time；　and　all　the　old　people　before　us　…　Rutherfords　of　Hermiston；　

Elliotts　of　the　Cauldstaneslap　…　that　were　here　but　a　while　since　riding　

about　and　keeping　up　a　great　noise　in　this　quiet　corner　…　making　love　

too；　and　marrying　…　why；　where　are　they　now？　　It's　deadly　commonplace；　

but；　after　all；　the　commonplaces　are　the　great　poetic　truths。〃



He　was　sounding　her；　semi…consciously；　to　see　if　she　could　understand　

him；　to　learn　if　she　were　only　an　animal　the　colour　of　flowers；　or　had　a　

soul　in　her　to　keep　her　sweet。　　She；　on　her　part；　her　means　well　in　

hand；　watched；　womanlike；　for　any　opportunity　to　shine；　to　abound　in　his　

humour；　whatever　that　might　be。　　The　dramatic　artist；　that　lies　dormant　

or　only　half　awake　in　most　human　beings；　had　in　her　sprung　to　his　feet　

in　a　divine　fury；　and　chance　had　served　her　well。　　She　looked　upon　him　

with　a　subdued　twilight　look　that　became　the　hour　of　the　day　and　the　

train　of　thought；　earnestness　shone　through　her　like　stars　in　the　purple　

west；　and　from　the　great　but　controlled　upheaval　of　her　whole　nature　

there　passed　into　her　voice；　and　rang　in　her　lightest　words；　a　thrill　of　

emotion。



〃Have　you　mind　of　Dand's　song？〃　she　answered。　　〃I　think　he'll　have　been　

trying　to　say　what　you　have　been　thinking。〃



〃No；　I　never　heard　it；〃　he　said。　　〃Repeat　it　to　me；　can　you？〃



〃It's　nothing　wanting　the　tune；〃　said　Kirstie。



〃Then　sing　it　me；〃　said　he。



〃On　the　Lord's　Day？　　That　would　never　do；　Mr。　Weir！〃



〃I　am　afraid　I　am　not　so　strict　a　keeper　of　the　Sabbath；　and　there　is　no　

one　in　this　place　to　hear　us；　unless　the　poor　old　ancient　under　the　

stone。〃



〃No　that　I'm　thinking　that　really；〃　she　said。　　〃By　my　way　of　thinking；　

it's　just　as　serious　as　a　psalm。　　Will　I　sooth　it　to　ye；　then？〃



〃If　you　please；〃　said　he；　and；　drawing　near　to　her　on　the　tombstone；　

prepared　to　listen。



She　sat　up　as　if　to　sing。　〃I'll　only　can　sooth　it　to　ye；〃　she　explained。　　

〃I　wouldna　like　to　sing　out　loud　on　the　Sabbath。　　I　think　the　birds　

would　carry　news　of　it　to　Gilbert；〃　and　she　smiled。　　〃It's　about　the　

Elliotts；〃　she　continued；　〃and　I　think　there's　few　bonnier　bits　in　the　

book…poets；　though　Dand　has　never　got　printed　yet。〃



And　she　began；　in　the　low；　clear　tones　of　her　half　voice；　now　sinking　

almost　to　a　whisper；　now　rising　to　a　particular　note　which　was　her　best；　

and　which　Archie　learned　to　wait　for　with　growing　emotion：…





〃O　they　rade　in　the　rain；　in　the　days　that　are　gane；

In　the　rain　and　the　wind　and　the　lave；

They　shoutit　in　the　ha'　and　they　routit　on　the　hill；

But　they're　a'　quaitit　noo　in　the　grave。

Auld；　auld　Elliotts；　clay…cauld　Elliotts；　dour；　bauld　Elliotte　of　auld！〃





All　the　time　she　sang　she　looked　steadfastly　before　her；　her　knees　

straight；　her　hands　upon　her　knee；　her　head　cast　back　and　up。　　The　

expression　was　admirable　throughout；　for　had　she　not　learned　it　from　the　

lips　and　under　the　criticism　of　the　author？　　When　it　was　done；　she　

turned　upon　Archie　a　face　softly　bright；　and　eyes　gently　suffused　and　

shining　in　the　twilight；　and　his　heart　rose　and　went　out　to　her　with　

boundless　pity　and　sympathy。　　His　question　was　answered。　　She　was　a　

human　being　tuned　to　a　sense　of　the　tragedy　of　life；　there　were　pathos　

and　music　and　a　great　heart　in　the　girl。



He　arose　instinctively；　she　also；　for　she　saw　she　had　gained　a　point；　

and　scored　the　impression　deeper；　and　she　had　wit　enough　left　to　flee　

upon　a　victory。　　They　were　but　commonplaces　that　remained　to　be　

exchanged；　but　the　low；　moved　voices　in　which　they　passed　made　them　

sacred　in　the　memory。　　In　the　falling　greyness　of　the　evening　he　watched　

her　figure　winding　through　the　morass；　saw　it　turn　a　last　time　and　wave　

a　hand；　and　then　pass　through　the　Slap；　and　it　seemed　to　him　as　if　

something　went　along　with　her　out　of　the　deepest　of　his　heart。　　And　

something　surely　had　come；　and　come　to　dwell　there。　　He　had　retained　

from　childhood　a　picture；　now　half　obliterated　by　the　passage　of　time　

and　the　multitude　of　fresh　impressions；　of　his　mother　telling　him；　with　

the　fluttered　earnestness　of　her　voice；　and　often　with　dropping　tears；　

the　tale　of　the　〃Praying　Weaver；〃　on　the　very　scene　of　his　brief　tragedy　

and　long　repose。　　And　now　there　was　a　companion　piece；　and　he　beheld；　

and　he　should　behold　for　ever；　Christina　perched　on　the　same　tomb；　in　

the　grey　colours　of　the　evening；　gracious；　dainty；　perfect　as　a　flower；　

and　she　also　singing…





〃Of　old；　unhappy　far　off　things；

And　battles　long　ago；〃





of　their　common　ancestors　now　dead；　of　their　rude　wars　composed；　their　

weapons　buried　with　them；　and　of　these　strange　changelings；　their　

descendants；　who　lingered　a　little　in　their　places；　and　would　soon　be　

gone　also；　and　perhaps　sung　of　by　others　at　the　gloaming　hour。　　By　one　

of　the　unconscious　arts　of　tenderness　the　two　women　were　enshrined　

together　in　his　memory。　　Tears；　in　that　hour　of　sensibility；　came　into　

his　eyes　indifferently　at　the　thought　of　either；　and　the　girl；　from　

being　something　merely　bright　and　shapely；　was　caught　up　into　the　zone　

of　things　serious　as　life　and　death　and　his　dead　mother。　　So　that　in　all　

ways　and　on　either　side；　Fate　played　his　game　artfully　with　this　poor　

pair　of　children。　　The　generations　were　prepared；　the　pangs　were　made　

ready；　before　the　curtain　rose　on　the　dark　drama。



In　the　same　moment　of　time　that　she　disappeared　from　Archie；　there　

opened　before　Kirstie's　eyes　the　cup…like　hollow　in　which　the　farm　lay。　　

She　saw；　some　five　hundred　feet　below　her；　the　house　making　itself　

bright　with　candles；　and　this　was　a　broad　hint　to　her　to　hurry。　　For　

they　were　only　kindled　on　a　Sabbath　night　with　a　view　to　that　family　

worship　which　rounded　in　the　incomparable　tedium　of　the　day　and　brought　

on　the　relaxation　of　supper。　　Already　she　knew　that　Robert　must　be　

within…sides　at　the　head　of　the　table；　〃waling　the　portions〃；　for　it　was　

Robert　in　his　quality　of　family　priest　and　judge；　not　the　gifted　

Gilbert；　who　officiated。　　She　made　good　time　accordingly　down　the　steep　

ascent；　and　came　up　to　the　door　panting　as　the　three　younger　brothers；　

all　roused　at　last　from　slumber；　stood　together　in　the　cool　and　the　dark　

of　the　evening　with　a　fry　of　nephews　and　nieces　about　them；　chatting　and　

awaiting　the　expected　signal。　　She　stood　back；　she　had　no　mind　to　direct　

attention　to　her　late　arrival　or　to　her　labouring　breath。



〃Kirstie；　ye　have　shaved　it　this　time；　my　lass？〃　said　Clem。　　〃Whaur　were　

ye？〃



〃O；　just　taking　a　dander　by　mysel'；〃　sai