the captives-第3章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　conducted　by　the　Rev。　Tom　Trefusis；　the　sporting　vicar　of　Cator　Hill；　the　neighbouring　parish。

The　house　now　was　empty　and　silent。　They　must　escape　from　that　figure；　now　decent；　clean；　and　solemn；　lying　upon　the　bed　upstairs。　Mathew　took　his　niece　by　the　hand　and　said：

〃My　dear；　a　little　fresh　air　is　the　thing　for　both　of　us。　It　will　cheer　you　up。〃

So　they　went　out　for　a　walk　together。　Maggie　knew；　with　a　deep　and　intimate　experience；　every　lane　and　road　within　twenty　miles'　radius　of　St。　Dreot's；　There　was　the　high…road　that　went　through　Gator　Hill　to　Clinton　and　then　to　Polwint；　here　were　the　paths　across　the　fields　to　Lucent；　the　lanes　that　led　to　the　valley　of　the　Lisp；　all　the　paths　like　spiders'　webs　through　Rothin　Wood；　from　whose　curve　you　could　see　Polchester；　grey　and　white；　with　its　red…brown　roofs　and　the　spires　of　the　Cathedral　thrusting　like　pointing　fingers　into　the　heaven。　It　was　the　Polchester　View　that　she　chose　to…day；　but　as　they　started　through　the　deep　lanes　down　the　St。　Dreot's　hill　she　was　startled　and　disturbed　by　the　strange　aspect　which　everything　wore　to　her。　She　had　not　as　yet　realised　the　great　shock　her　father's　death　had　been；　she　was　exhausted；　spiritually　and　physically；　in　spite　of　the　deep　sleep　of　the　night　before。　The　form　and　shape　of　the　world　was　a　little　strained　and　fantastic；　the　colours　uncertain；　now　vivid；　now　vanishing；　the　familiar　trees；　hedges；　clouds；　screens；　as　it　were；　concealing　some　scene　that　was　being　played　behind　them。　But　beyond　and　above　all　other　sensations　she　was　conscious　of　her　liberty。　She　struggled　against　this；　she　should　be　conscious；　before　everything；　of　her　father's　loss。　But　she　was　not。　It　meant　to　her　at　present　not　so　much　the　loss　of　a　familiar　figure　as　the　sudden　juggling；　by　an　outside　future；　of　all　the　regular　incidents　and　scenes　of　her　daily　life；　as　at　a　pantomime　one　sees　by　a　transformation　of　the　scenery；　the　tables；　the　chairs；　and　pictures　the　walls　dance　to　an　unexpected　jig。　She　was　free；　free；　freealone　but　free。　What　form　her　life　would　take　she　did　not　know；　what　troubles　and　sorrows　in　the　future　there　might　be　she　did　not　careto…morrow　her　life　would　begin。

Although　unsentimental　she　was　tender…hearted　and　affectionate；　but　now；　for　many　years；　her　life　with　her　father　had　been　a　daily　battle　of　ever…increasing　anger　and　bitterness。　It　may　be　that　once　he　had　loved　her；　that　had　been　in　those　days　when　she　was　not　old　enough　to　love　him　。　。　。　since　she　had　known　him　he　had　loved　only　money。　She　would　have　loved　him　had　he　allowed　her；　and　because　he　did　not　she　bore　him　no　grudge。　She　had　always　regarded　her　life；　sterile　and　unprofitable　as　it　was；　with　humour　until　now　when；　like　a　discarded　dress；　it　had　slipped　behind　her。　She　did　not　see　it；　even　now；　with　bitterness；　there　was　no　bitterness　for　anything　in　her　character。

As　they　walked　Uncle　Mathew　was　considering　her　for　the　first　time。　On　the　other　occasions　when　he　had　stayed　in　his　brother's　house　he　had　been　greatly　occupied　with　his　own　plansrequests　for　money　（invariably　refused）　schemes　for　making　money；　plots　to　frighten　his　brother　out　of　one　or　other　of　his　possessions。　He　had　been　frankly　predatory；　and　that　plain；　quiet　girl　his　niece　had　been　pleasant　company　but　no　more。　Now　she　was　suddenly　of　the　first　importance。　She　would　in　all　probability　inherit　a　considerable　sum。　How　much　there　might　be　in　that　black　box　under　the　bed　one　could　not　say；　but　surely　you　could　not　be　so　relentless　a　miser　for　so　long　a　period　without　accumulating　a　very　agreeable　amount。　Did　the　girl　realise　that　she　would；　perhaps；　be　rich？　Uncle　Mathew　licked　his　lips　with　his　tongue。　So　quiet　and　self…possessed　was　she　that　you　could　not　tell　what　she　was　thinking。　Were　she　only　pretty　she　might　marry　anybody。　As　it　was；　with　that　figure　。　。　。　But　she　was　a　good　girl。　Uncle　Mathew　felt　kind　and　tender…hearted　towards　her。　He　would　advise　her　about　life　of　which　he　had　had　a　very　considerable　experience；　and　of　which；　of　course；　she　knew　nothing。　His　heart　was　warm；　although　it　would　have　been　warmer　still　had　he　been　able　to　drink　a　glass　of　something　before　starting　out。

〃And　what　will　you　do　now；　my　dear；　do　you　think？〃　he　asked。

They　had　left　the　deep　lanes　and　struck　across　the　hard…rutted　fields。　A　thin　powder　of　snow　lay　upon　the　land；　and　under　the　yellow　light　of　the　winter　sky　the　surface　was　blue；　shadowed　with　white　patches　where　the　snow　had　fallen　more　thickly。　The　trees　and　hedges　were　black　and　hard　against　the　white　horizon　that　was　tightly　stretched　like　the　paper　of　a　Japanese　screen。　The　smell　of　burning　wood　was　in　the　air；　and　once　and　again　a　rook　slowly　swung　its　wheel；　cutting　the　air　as　it　flew。　The　cold　was　so　pleasantly　sharp　that　it　was　the　best　possible　thing　for　Uncle　Mathew；　who　was　accustomed　to　an　atmosphere　of　hissing　gas；　unwashen　glasses；　and　rinds　of　cheese。

Maggie　did　not　answer　his　question　but　herself　asked　one。

〃Uncle　Mathew；　do　you　believe　in　religion？〃

〃Religion；　my　dear？〃　answered　her　uncle；　greatly　startled　at　so　unusual　a　question。　〃What　sort　of　religion？〃

〃The　kind　of　religion　that　father　preached　about　every　Sundaythe　Christian　religion。〃

〃To　tell　you　the　truth；　my　dear；〃　he　answered　confidentially；　〃I've　never　had　much　time　to　think　about　it。　With　some　men；　you　see；　it's　part　of　their　lives；　and　with　otherswell；　it　isn't。　My　lines　never　ran　that　way。〃

〃Was　father　very　religious　when　he　was　young？〃

〃No；　I　can't　say　that　he　was。　But　then　we　never　got　on；　your　father　and　I。　Our　lines　didn't　run　together　at　all。　But　I　shouldn't　have　called　him　a　religious　man。〃

〃Then　all　this　time　father　has　been　lying？〃

Her　uncle　gazed　at　her　apprehensively。　He　did　not　wish　to　undermine　her　faith　in　her　father　on　the　very　day　after　his　death；　but　he　was　so　ignorant　about　her；　her　thoughts　and　beliefs　and　desires；　that　he　did　not　know　what　her　idea　of　her　father　had　been。　His　idea　of　him　had　always　been　that　he　was　a　dirty；　miserly　scoundrel；　but　that　was　not　quite　the　thing　for　a　daughter　to　feel；　and　there　was　an　innocence　and　simplicity　about　Maggie　that　perplexed　him。

〃I　can't　truly　say　that　I　ever　knew　what　your　father's　private　feelings　were。　He　never　cared　for　me　enough　to　tell　me。　He　may　have　been　very　religious　in　his　real　thoughts。　We　never　discussed　such　things。〃

Maggie　turned　round　upon　him。

〃I　know。　You're　pretending。　You've　said　to　yourself；　'I　mustn't　tell　her　what　I　think　about　her　father　the　very　day　after　his　death；　that　isn't　a　pleasant　thing　to　do。'　We've　all　got　to　pretend　that　he　was　splendid。　But　he　wasn'tnever。　Who　can　know　it　better　than　I？　Didn't　he　worry　mother　until　she　died？　Didn't　he　lead　me　an　awful　life　always；　and　aren't　I　delighted　now　that　he's　dead？　It's　everything　to　me。　I've　longed　for　this　day　for　years；　and　now　we've　got　to　pretend　that　we're　sorry　and　that　it　would　be　a　good　thing　if　he　were　alive。　It　wouldn't　be　a　good　thingit　would　be　a　bad　thing　for　every　one。　He　was　a　bad　man　and　I　hated　him。〃

Then；　quite　suddenly；　she　cried。　Turning　away　from　her　uncle　she　folded　her　face　in　her　arms　like　a　small　child　and　sobbed。　Standing；　looking　at　her　bent　shoulders；　her　square；　ugly　figure；　her　shabby　old　hat　with　its　dingy　black　ribbon；　pushed　a　little　to　the　side　of　her　head；　Uncle　Mathew　thought　that　she　was　a　most　uncomprehensible　girl。　If　she　felt　like　that　about　her　father　why　should　she　cry；　and　if　she　cried　she　must　surely　have　some　affection　for　his　memory。　All　he　could　say　was：

〃There；　there；　my　dearWell；　well。　It's　all　right。〃　He　felt　foolish　and　helpless。

She　turned　round　at　last；　drying　her　eyes。　〃It's　such　a　shame；〃　she　said；　still　sobbing；　〃that　that's　what　I　shall　feel　about　him。　He's　all　I　had　and　that's　what　I　feel。　But　if　you　knewif　you　knewall　the　things　he　did。〃

They　walked　on　again；　entering　Rothin　Wood。　〃He　never　tried　to　make　me　religious；〃　she　went　on。　〃He　didn't　care　what　I　felt。　I　sat　in　the　choir；　and　I　took　a　Sunday…school　class；　and　I　visited　the　villagers；　but　I；　myselfwhat　happened　to　mehe　didn't　care。　He　never　took　any　trouble　about　the　church；　he　just　gabbled　the　prayers　and　preached　the　same　old　sermons。　People　in　the　village