the club of queer trades-第14章

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〃Yes；〃　said　Basil；　taking　out　his　watch；　〃and；　what's　worse；　we've　lost　the　train。〃

He　paused　a　moment　and　then　added：　〃As　a　matter　of　fact；　I　think　we　may　just　as　well　go　down　later　in　the　day。　I　have　some　writing　to　do；　and　I　think　you　told　me；　Rupert；　that　you　thought　of　going　to　the　Dulwich　Gallery。　I　was　rather　too　impetuous。　Very　likely　he　wouldn't　be　in。　But　if　we　get　down　by　the　5。15；　which　gets　to　Purley　about　6；　I　expect　we　shall　just　catch　him。〃

〃Catch　him！〃　cried　his　brother；　in　a　kind　of　final　anger。　〃I　wish　we　could。　Where　the　deuce　shall　we　catch　him　now？〃

〃I　keep　forgetting　the　name　of　the　common；〃　said　Basil；　as　he　buttoned　up　his　coat。　〃The　Elmswhat　is　it？　Buxton　Common；　near　Purley。　That's　where　we　shall　find　him。〃

〃But　there　is　no　such　place；〃　groaned　Rupert；　but　he　followed　his　brother　downstairs。

We　all　followed　him。　We　snatched　our　hats　from　the　hat…stand　and　our　sticks　from　the　umbrella…stand；　and　why　we　followed　him　we　did　not　and　do　not　know。　But　we　always　followed　him；　whatever　was　the　meaning　of　the　fact；　whatever　was　the　nature　of　his　mastery。　And　the　strange　thing　was　that　we　followed　him　the　more　completely　the　more　nonsensical　appeared　the　thing　which　he　said。　At　bottom；　I　believe；　if　he　had　risen　from　our　breakfast　table　and　said：　〃I　am　going　to　find　the　Holy　Pig　with　Ten　Tails；〃　we　should　have　followed　him　to　the　end　of　the　world。

I　don't　know　whether　this　mystical　feeling　of　mine　about　Basil　on　this　occasion　has　got　any　of　the　dark　and　cloudy　colour；　so　to　speak；　of　the　strange　journey　that　we　made　the　same　evening。　It　was　already　very　dense　twilight　when　we　struck　southward　from　Purley。　Suburbs　and　things　on　the　London　border　may　be；　in　most　cases；　commonplace　and　comfortable。　But　if　ever　by　any　chance　they　really　are　empty　solitudes　they　are　to　the　human　spirit　more　desolate　and　dehumanized　than　any　Yorkshire　moors　or　Highland　hills；　because　the　suddenness　with　which　the　traveller　drops　into　that　silence　has　something　about　it　as　of　evil　elf…land。　It　seems　to　be　one　of　the　ragged　suburbs　of　the　cosmos　half…forgotten　by　Godsuch　a　place　was　Buxton　Common；　near　Purley。

There　was　certainly　a　sort　of　grey　futility　in　the　landscape　itself。　But　it　was　enormously　increased　by　the　sense　of　grey　futility　in　our　expedition。　The　tracts　of　grey　turf　looked　useless；　the　occasional　wind…stricken　trees　looked　useless；　but　we；　the　human　beings；　more　useless　than　the　hopeless　turf　or　the　idle　trees。　We　were　maniacs　akin　to　the　foolish　landscape；　for　we　were　come　to　chase　the　wild　goose　which　has　led　men　and　left　men　in　bogs　from　the　beginning。　We　were　three　dazed　men　under　the　captaincy　of　a　madman　going　to　look　for　a　man　whom　we　knew　was　not　there　in　a　house　that　had　no　existence。　A　livid　sunset　seemed　to　look　at　us　with　a　sort　of　sickly　smile　before　it　died。

Basil　went　on　in　front　with　his　coat　collar　turned　up；　looking　in　the　gloom　rather　like　a　grotesque　Napoleon。　We　crossed　swell　after　swell　of　the　windy　common　in　increasing　darkness　and　entire　silence。　Suddenly　Basil　stopped　and　turned　to　us；　his　hands　in　his　pockets。　Through　the　dusk　I　could　just　detect　that　he　wore　a　broad　grin　as　of　comfortable　success。

〃Well；〃　he　cried；　taking　his　heavily　gloved　hands　out　of　his　pockets　and　slapping　them　together；　〃here　we　are　at　last。〃

The　wind　swirled　sadly　over　the　homeless　heath；　two　desolate　elms　rocked　above　us　in　the　sky　like　shapeless　clouds　of　grey。　There　was　not　a　sign　of　man　or　beast　to　the　sullen　circle　of　the　horizon；　and　in　the　midst　of　that　wilderness　Basil　Grant　stood　rubbing　his　hands　with　the　air　of　an　innkeeper　standing　at　an　open　door。

〃How　jolly　it　is；〃　he　cried；　〃to　get　back　to　civilization。　That　notion　that　civilization　isn't　poetical　is　a　civilised　delusion。　Wait　till　you've　really　lost　yourself　in　nature；　among　the　devilish　woodlands　and　the　cruel　flowers。　Then　you'll　know　that　there's　no　star　like　the　red　star　of　man　that　he　lights　on　his　hearthstone；　no　river　like　the　red　river　of　man；　the　good　red　wine；　which　you；　Mr　Rupert　Grant；　if　I　have　any　knowledge　of　you；　will　be　drinking　in　two　or　three　minutes　in　enormous　quantities。〃

Rupert　and　I　exchanged　glances　of　fear。　Basil　went　on　heartily；　as　the　wind　died　in　the　dreary　trees。

〃You'll　find　our　host　a　much　more　simple　kind　of　fellow　in　his　own　house。　I　did　when　I　visited　him　when　he　lived　in　the　cabin　at　Yarmouth；　and　again　in　the　loft　at　the　city　warehouse。　He's　really　a　very　good　fellow。　But　his　greatest　virtue　remains　what　I　said　originally。〃

〃What　do　you　mean？〃　I　asked；　finding　his　speech　straying　towards　a　sort　of　sanity。　〃What　is　his　greatest　virtue？〃

〃His　greatest　virtue；〃　replied　Basil；　〃is　that　he　always　tells　the　literal　truth。〃

〃Well；　really；〃　cried　Rupert；　stamping　about　between　cold　and　anger；　and　slapping　himself　like　a　cabman；　〃he　doesn't　seem　to　have　been　very　literal　or　truthful　in　this　case；　nor　you　either。　Why　the　deuce；　may　I　ask；　have　you　brought　us　out　to　this　infernal　place？〃

〃He　was　too　truthful；　I　confess；〃　said　Basil；　leaning　against　the　tree；　〃too　hardly　veracious；　too　severely　accurate。　He　should　have　indulged　in　a　little　more　suggestiveness　and　legitimate　romance。　But　come；　it's　time　we　went　in。　We　shall　be　late　for　dinner。〃

Rupert　whispered　to　me　with　a　white　face：

〃Is　it　a　hallucination；　do　you　think？　Does　he　really　fancy　he　sees　a　house？〃

〃I　suppose　so；〃　I　said。　Then　I　added　aloud；　in　what　was　meant　to　be　a　cheery　and　sensible　voice；　but　which　sounded　in　my　ears　almost　as　strange　as　the　wind：

〃Come；　come；　Basil；　my　dear　fellow。　Where　do　you　want　us　to　go？〃

〃Why；　up　here；〃　cried　Basil；　and　with　a　bound　and　a　swing　he　was　above　our　heads；　swarming　up　the　grey　column　of　the　colossal　tree。

〃Come　up；　all　of　you；〃　he　shouted　out　of　the　darkness；　with　the　voice　of　a　schoolboy。　〃Come　up。　You'll　be　late　for　dinner。〃

The　two　great　elms　stood　so　close　together　that　there　was　scarcely　a　yard　anywhere；　and　in　some　places　not　more　than　a　foot；　between　them。　Thus　occasional　branches　and　even　bosses　and　boles　formed　a　series　of　footholds　that　almost　amounted　to　a　rude　natural　ladder。　They　must；　I　supposed；　have　been　some　sport　of　growth；　Siamese　twins　of　vegetation。

Why　we　did　it　I　cannot　think；　perhaps；　as　I　have　said；　the　mystery　of　the　waste　and　dark　had　brought　out　and　made　primary　something　wholly　mystical　in　Basil's　supremacy。　But　we　only　felt　that　there　was　a　giant's　staircase　going　somewhere；　perhaps　to　the　stars；　and　the　victorious　voice　above　called　to　us　out　of　heaven。　We　hoisted　ourselves　up　after　him。

Half…way　up　some　cold　tongue　of　the　night　air　struck　and　sobered　me　suddenly。　The　hypnotism　of　the　madman　above　fell　from　me；　and　I　saw　the　whole　map　of　our　silly　actions　as　clearly　as　if　it　were　printed。　I　saw　three　modern　men　in　black　coats　who　had　begun　with　a　perfectly　sensible　suspicion　of　a　doubtful　adventurer　and　who　had　ended；　God　knows　how；　half…way　up　a　naked　tree　on　a　naked　moorland；　far　from　that　adventurer　and　all　his　works；　that　adventurer　who　was　at　that　moment；　in　all　probability；　laughing　at　us　in　some　dirty　Soho　restaurant。　He　had　plenty　to　laugh　at　us　about；　and　no　doubt　he　was　laughing　his　loudest；　but　when　I　thought　what　his　laughter　would　be　if　he　knew　where　we　were　at　that　moment；　I　nearly　let　go　of　the　tree　and　fell。

〃Swinburne；〃　said　Rupert　suddenly；　from　above；　〃what　are　we　doing？　Let's　get　down　again；〃　and　by　the　mere　sound　of　his　voice　I　knew　that　he　too　felt　the　shock　of　wakening　to　reality。

〃We　can't　leave　poor　Basil；〃　I　said。　〃Can't　you　call　to　him　or　get　hold　of　him　by　the　leg？〃

〃He's　too　far　ahead；〃　answered　Rupert；　〃he's　nearly　at　the　top　of　the　beastly　thing。　Looking　for　Lieutenant　Keith　in　the　rooks'　nests；　I　suppose。〃

We　were　ourselves　by　this　time　far　on　our　frantic　vertical　journey。　The　mighty　trunks　were　beginning　to　sway　and　shake　slightly　in　the　wind。　Then　I　looked　down　and　saw　something　which　made　me　feel　that　we　were　far　from　the　world　in　a　sense　and　to　a　degree　that　I　cannot　easily　describe。　I　saw　that　the　almost　straight　lines　of　the　tall　elm　trees　diminished　a　little　in　perspective　as　they　fell。　I　was　used　to　seeing　parallel　lines　taper　towards　the　sky。　But　to　see　them　taper　towards　the　earth　made　me　feel　lost　in　space；　like　a　falling　star。

〃Can　nothing　be　done　to　stop　Basil？〃　I　called　out。

〃No；〃　answered　my　fellow　climber。　〃He's　too　far　up。　He　must　get　to　the　top；　and　when　he　finds　nothing　but　wind　and　leaves　he　may　go　sane　again。　Hark　at　him　above　there；　you　can　just　hear　him　talking　to　himself。〃

〃Perhaps　he's　talking　to　us；〃　I　said。

〃No；〃　said　Rupert；　〃he'd　shout　if　he　was。　I've　never　known　him　to　talk　to　himself　before；　I'm　afraid　he　really　is　bad　tonight；　it's　a　known　sign　of　the　brain　going。〃

〃Yes；〃　I　said　sadly；　and　listened。　Basil's　voice　certainly　was　sounding　above　us；　and　not　by　any　means　in　the　rich　and　riotous　tones　in　which　he　had　hailed　us　before。　He　was　speaking　quietly；　and　laughing　every　now　and　then；　up　there　among　the　leaves　and　stars。

After　a　silence　mingled　with　this　murmur；　Rupert　Grant　suddenly　said；　〃My　God！〃　with　a　violent　voice。

〃What's　the　matterare　you　hurt？〃　I　cried；　alarmed。

〃No。　Listen　to　Basil；〃　said　the　other　in　a　very　strange　voice。　〃He's　not　talking　to　himself。〃

〃Then　he　is　talking　to　us；〃　I　cried。

〃No；〃　said　Rupert　simply；　〃he's　talking　to　somebody　else。〃

Great　branches　of　the　elm　loaded　with　leaves　swung　about　us　in　a　sudden　burst　of　wind；　but　when　it　died　down　I　could　still　hear　the　conversational　voice　above。　I　could　hear　two　voices。

Suddenly　from　aloft　came　Basil's　boisterous　hailing　voice　as　before：　〃Come　up；　you　fellows。　Here's　Lieutenant　Keith。〃

And　a　second　afterwards　came　the　half…American　voice　we　had　heard　in　our　chambers　more　than　once。　It　called　out：

〃Happy　to　see　you；　gentlemen；　pray　come　in。〃

Out　of　a　hole　in　an　enormous　dark　egg…shaped　thing；　pendent　in　the　branches　like　a　wasps'　nest；　was　protruding　the　pale　face　and　fierce　moustache　of　the　lieutenant；　his　teeth　shining　with　that　slightly　Southern　air　that　belonged　to　him。

Somehow　or　other；　stunned　and　speechless；　we　lifted　ourselves　heavily　into　the　opening。　We　fell　into　the　full　glow　of　a　lamp…lit；　cushioned；　tiny　room；　with　a　circular　wall　lined　with　books；　a　circular　table；　and　a　circular　seat　around　it。　At　this　table　sat　three　people。　One　was　Basil；　who；　in　the　instant　after　alighting　there；　had　fallen　into　an　attitude　of　marmoreal　ease　as　if　he　had　been　there　from　boyhood；　he　was　smoking　a　cigar　with　a　slow　pleasure。　The　second　was　Lieutenant　Drummond　Keith；　who　looked　happy　also；　but　feverish　and　doubtful　compared　with　his　granite　guest。　The　third　was　the　little　bald…headed　house…agent　with　the　wild　whiskers；　who　called　himself　Montmorency。　The　spears；　the　green　umbrella；　and　the　cavalry　sword　hung　in　parallels　on　the　wall。　The　sealed　jar　of　strange　wine　was　on　the　mantelpiece；　the　enormous　rifle　in　the　corner。　In　the　middle　of　the　table　was　a　magnum　of　champagne。　Glasses　were　already　set　for　us。

The　wind　of　the　night　roared　far　below　us；　like　an　ocean　at　the　foot　of　a　light…house。　The　room　stirred　slightly；　as　a　cabin　might　in　a　mild　sea。

Our　glasses　were　filled；　and　we　still　sat　there　dazed　and　dumb。　Then　Basil　spoke。

〃You　seem