the ninth vibration-第12章

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I　

There　are　strange　things　in　this　story；　but；　so　far　as　I　understand　them；　I　tell　the　truth。　If　you　measure　the　East　with　a　Western　foot…rule　you　will　say；　〃Impossible。〃　I　should　have　said　it　myself。

Of　myself　I　will　say　as　little　as　I　can；　for　this　story　is　of　Vanna　Loring。　I　am　an　incident　only；　though　I　did　not　know　that　at　first。

My　name　is　Stephen　Clifden；　and　I　was　eight…and…thirty；　plenty　of　money；　sound　in　wind　and　limb。　I　had　been　by　way　of　being　a　writer　before　the　war；　the　hobby　of　a　rich　man；　but　if　I　picked　up　anything　in　the　welter　in　France；　it　was　that　real　work　is　the　only　salvation　this　mad　world　has　to　offer；　so　I　meant　to　begin　at　the　beginning；　and　learn　my　trade　like　a　journeyman　labourer。　I　had　come　to　the　right　place。　A　very　wonderful　city　is　Peshawar　…　rather　let　us　say；　two　cities　…　the　compounds；　the　fortifications　where　Europeans　dwell　in　such　peace　as　their　strong　right　arms　can　secure　them；　and　the　native　city　and　bazaar　humming　and　buzzing　like　a　hive　of　angry　bees　with　the　rumours　that　come　up　from　Lower　India　or　down　the　Khyber　Pass　with　the　camel　caravans　loaded　with　merchandise　from　Afghanistan；　Bokhara；　and　farther。　And　it　is　because　of　this　that　Peshawar　is　the　Key　of　India；　and　a　city　of　Romance　that　stands　at　every　corner；　and　cries　aloud　in　the　market　…　place。　For　at　Peshawar　every　able…bodied　man　sleeps　with　his　revolver　under　his　pillow；　and　the　old　Fort　is　always　ready　in　case　it　should　be　necessary　at　brief　and　sharp　notice　to　hurry　the　women　and　children　into　it；　and　possibly；　to　die　in　their　defense。　So　enlivening　is　the　neighbourhood　of　the　frontier　tribes　that　haunt　the　famous　Khyber　Pass　and　the　menacing　hills　where　danger　is　always　lurking。

But　there　was　society　here；　and　I　was　swept　into　it　…　there　was　chatter；　and　it　galled　me。

I　was　beginning　to　feel　that　I　had　missed　my　mark；　and　must　go　farther　afield；　perhaps　up　into　Central　Asia；　when　I　met　Vanna　Loring。　If　I　say　that　her　hair　was　soft　and　dark；　that　she　had　the　deepest　hazel　eyes　I　have　ever　seen；　and　a　sensitive；　tender　mouth；　that　she　moved　with　a　flowing　grace　like　〃a　wave　of　the　sea　…　it　sounds　like　the　portrait　of　a　beauty；　and　she　was　never　that。　Also；　incidentally；　it　gives　none　of　her　charm。　I　never　heard　any　one　get　any　further　than　that　she　was　〃oddly　attractive〃　…　let　us　leave　it　at　that。　She　was　certainly　attractive　to　me。

She　was　the　governess　of　little　Winifred　Meryon；　whose　father　held　the　august　position　of　General　Commanding　the　Frontier　Forces；　and　her　mother　the　more　commanding　position　of　the　reigning　beauty　of　Northern　India；　generally　speaking。　No　one　disputed　that。　She　was　as　pretty　as　a　picture；　and　her　charming　photograph　had　graced　as　many　illustrated　papers　as　there　were　illustrated　papers　to　grace。

But　Vanna　…　I　gleaned　her　story　by　bits　when　I　came　across　her　with　the　child　in　the　gardens。　I　was　beginning　to　piece　it　together　now。

Her　love　of　the　strange　and　beautiful　she　had　inherited　from　a　young　Italian　mother；　daughter　of　a　political　refugee；　her　childhood　had　been　spent　in　a　remote　little　village　in　the　West　of　England；　half　reluctantly　she　told　me　how　she　had　brought　herself　up　after　her　mother's　death　and　her　father's　second　marriage。　Little　was　said　of　that；　but　I　gathered　that　it　had　been　a　grief　to　her；　a　factor　in　her　flight　to　the　East。

We　were　walking　in　the　Circular　Road　then　with　Winifred　in　front　leading　her　Pekingese　by　its　blue　ribbon；　and　we　had　it　almost　to　ourselves　except　for　a　few　natives　passing　slow　and　dignified　on　their　own　occasions；　for　fashionable　Peshawar　was　finishing　its　last　rubber　of　bridge；　before　separating　to　dress　for　dinner；　and　had　no　time　to　spare　for　trivialities　and　sunsets。

〃So　when　I　came　to　three…and…twenty；〃　she　said　slowly；　〃I　felt　I　must　break　away　from　our　narrow　life。　I　had　a　call　to　India　stronger　than　anything　on　earth。　You　would　not　understand　but　that　was　so；　and　I　had　spent　every　spare　moment　in　teaching　myself　India　…　its　history；　legends；　religions；　everything！　And　I　was　not　wanted　at　home；　and　I　had　grown　afraid。〃

I　could　divine　years　of　patience　and　repression　under　this　plain　tale；　but　also　a　power　that　would　be　dynamic　when　the　authentic　voice　called。　That　was　her　charm　…　gentleness　in　strength　…　a　sweet　serenity。

〃What　were　you　afraid　of？〃

〃Of　growing　old　and　missing　what　was　waiting　for　me　out　here。　But　I　could　not　get　away　like　other　people。　No　money；　you　see。　So　I　thought　I　would　come　out　here　and　teach。　Dare　I？　Would　they　let　me？　I　knew　I　was　fighting　life　and　chances　and　risks　if　I　did　it；　but　it　was　death　if　I　stayed　there。　And　then…　Do　you　really　care　to　hear？〃

〃Of　course。　Tell　me　how　you　broke　your　chain。〃

〃I　spare　you　the　family　quarrels。　I　can　never　go　back。　But　I　was　spurred　…　spurred　to　take　some　wild　leap；　and　I　took　it。　Six　years　ago　I　came　out。　First　I　went　to　a　doctor　and　his　wife　at　Cawnpore。　They　had　a　wonderful　knowledge　of　the　Indian　peoples；　and　there　I　learned　Hindustani　and　much　else。　Then　he　died。　But　an　aunt　had　left　me　two　hundred　pounds；　and　I　could　wait　a　little　and　choose；　and　so　I　came　here。〃

It　interested　me。　The　courage　that　pale　elastic　type　of　woman　has！

〃Have　you　ever　regretted　it？　Would　they　take　you　back　if　you　failed？〃

〃Never；　to　both　questions；〃　she　said；　smiling。　〃Life　is　glorious。　I've　drunk　of　a　cup　I　never　thought　to　taste；　and　if　I　died　tomorrow　I　should　know　I　had　done　right。　I　rejoice　in　every　moment　I　live　…　even　when　Winifred　and　I　are　wrestling　with　arithmetic。〃

〃I　shouldn't　have　thought　life　was　very　easy　with　Lady　Meryon。〃

〃Oh；　she　is　kind　enough　in　an　indifferent　sort　of　way。　I　am　not　the　persecuted　Jane　Eyre　sort　of　governess　at　all。　But　that　is　all　on　the　surface　and　does　not　matter。　It　is　India　I　care　for　…the　people；　the　sun；　the　infinite　beauty。　It　was　coming　home。　You　would　laugh　if　I　told　you　I　knew　Peshawar　long　before　I　came　here。　Knew　it　…　walked　here；　lived。　Before　there　were　English　in　India　at　all。〃　She　broke　off。　〃You　won't　understand。〃

〃Oh；　I　have　had　that　feeling；　too；〃　I　said　patronizingly。　〃If　one　has　read　very　much　about　a　place…〃

〃That　was　not　quite　what　I　meant。　Never　mind。　The　people；　the　place　…　that　is　the　real　thing　to　me。　All　this　is　the　dream。〃　The　sweep　of　her　hand　took　in　not　only　Winifred　and　myself；　but　the　general's　stately　residence；　which　to　blaspheme　in　Peshawar　is　rank　infidelity。

〃By　George；　I　would　give　thousands　to　feel　that！　I　can't　get　out　of　Europe　here。　I　want　to　write；　Miss　Loring；〃　I　found　myself　saying。　〃I'd　done　a　bit；　and　then　the　war　came　and　blew　my　life　to　pieces。　Now　I　want　to　get　inside　the　skin　of　the　East；　and　I　can't　do　it。　I　see　it　from　outside；　with　a　pane　of　glass　between。　No　life　in　it。　If　you　feel　as　you　say；　for　God's　sake　be　my　interpreter！〃

I　really　meant　what　I　said。　I　knew　she　was　a　harp　that　any　breeze　would　sweep　into　music。　I　divined　that　temperament　in　her　and　proposed　to　use　it　for　my　own　ends。　She　had　and　I　had　not；　the　power　to　be　a　part　of　all　she　saw；　to　feel　kindred　blood　running　in　her　own　veins。　To　the　average　European　the　native　life　of　India　is　scarcely　interesting；　so　far　is　it　removed　from　all　comprehension。　To　me　it　was　interesting；　but　I　could　not　tell　why。　I　stood　outside　and　had　not　the　fairy　gold　to　pay　for　my　entrance。　Here　at　all　events　she　could　buy　her　way　where　I　could　not。　Without　cruelty；　which　honestly　was　not　my　besetting　sin　…　especially　where　women　were　concerned；　the　egoist　in　me　felt　I　would　use　her；　would　extract　the　last　drop　of　the　enchantment　of　her　knowledge　before　I　went　on　my　way。　What　more　natural　than　that　Vanna　or　any　other　woman　should　minister　to　my　thirst　for　information？　Men　are　like　that。　I　pretend　to　be　no　better　than　the　rest。　She　pleased　my　fastidiousness　…　that　fastidiousness　which　is　the　only　austerity　in　men　not　otherwise　austere。

〃Interpret？〃　she　said；　looking　at　me　with　clear　hazel　eyes；　〃how　could　I？　You　were　in　the　native　city　yesterday。　What　did　you　miss？〃

〃Everything！　I　saw　masses　of　colour；　light；　movement。　Brilliantly　picturesque　people。　Children　like　Asiatic　angels。　Magnificently　scowling　ruffians　in　sheepskin　coats。　In　fact；　a　movie　staged　for　my　benefit。　I　was　afraid　they　wou