the research magnificent-第40章

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　Holland　boat　stood　out　past　waiting　destroyers　and　winking　beacons　and　the　lights　of　Harwich；　into　the　smoothly　undulating　darkness　of　the　North　Sea；　it　rose　upon　them　again　as　they　sat　over　the　cakes　and　cheese　of　a　Dutch　breakfast　in　the　express　for　Berlin。　　Prothero　filled　the　Sieges　Allee　with　his　complaints　against　nature　and　society；　and　distracted　Benham　in　his　contemplation　of　Polish　agriculture　from　the　windows　of　the　train　with　turgid　sexual　liberalism。　　So　that　Benham；　during　this　period　until　Prothero　left　him　and　until　the　tragic　enormous　spectacle　of　Russia　in　revolution　took　complete　possession　of　him；　was　as　it　were　thinking　upon　two　floors。　　Upon　the　one　he　was　thinking　of　the　vast　problems　of　a　society　of　a　hundred　million　people　staggering　on　the　verge　of　anarchy；　and　upon　the　other　he　was　perplexed　by　the　feverish　inattention　of　Prothero　to　the　tremendous　things　that　were　going　on　all　about　them。　　It　was　only　presently　when　the　serenity　of　his　own　private　life　began　to　be　ruffled　by　disillusionment；　that　he　began　to　realize　the　intimate　connexion　of　these　two　systems　of　thought。　　Yet　Prothero　put　it　to　him　plainly　enough。　〃Inattentive；〃　said　Prothero；　〃of　course　I　am　inattentive。　　What　is　really　the　matter　with　all　thisthis　social　mess　people　are　in　here；　is　that　nearly　everybody　is　inattentive。　　These　Big　Things　of　yours；　nobody　is　thinking　of　them　really。　　Everybody　is　thinking　about　the　Near　Things　that　concern　himself。〃　〃The　bombs　they　threw　yesterday？　　The　Cossacks　and　the　whips？〃　〃Nudges。　　Gestures　of　inattention。　　If　everybody　was　thinking　of　the　Res　Publica　would　there　be　any　need　for　bombs？〃　He　pursued　his　advantage。　　〃It's　all　nonsense　to　suppose　people　think　of　politics　because　they　are　in　‘em。　　As　well　suppose　that　the　passengers　on　a　liner　understand　the　engines；　or　soldiers　a　war。　Before　men　can　think　of　to…morrow；　they　must　think　of　to…day。　Before　they　can　think　of　others；　they　must　be　sure　about　themselves。　First　of　all；　food；　the　private；　the　personal　economic　worry。　　Am　I　safe　for　food？　　Then　sex；　and　until　one　is　tranquil　and　not　ashamed；　not　irritated　and　dissatisfied；　how　can　one　care　for　other　people；　or　for　next　year　or　the　Order　of　the　World？　　How　can　one；　Benham？〃　He　seized　the　illustration　at　hand。　　〃Here　we　are　in　Warsawnot　a　month　after　bomb…throwing　and　Cossack　charging。　　Windows　have　still　to　be　mended；　smashed　doors　restored。　　There's　blood…stains　still　on　some　of　the　houses。　　There　are　hundreds　of　people　in　the　Citadel　and　in　the　Ochrana　prison。　　This　morning　there　were　executions。　　Is　it　anything　more　than　an　eddy　in　the　real　life　of　the　place？　　Watch　the　customers　in　the　shops；　the　crowd　in　the　streets；　the　men　in　the　cafes　who　stare　at　the　passing　women。　　They　are　all　swallowed　up　again　in　their　own　business。　　They　just　looked　up　as　the　Cossacks　galloped　past；　they　just　shifted　a　bit　when　the　bullets　spat。　。　。　。〃　And　when　the　streets　of　Moscow　were　agog　with　the　grotesque　amazing　adventure　of　the　Potemkin　mutineers；　Prothero　was　in　the　full　tide　of　the　private　romance　that　severed　him　from　Benham　and　sent　him　back　to　Cambridgechanged。　Before　they　reached　Moscow　Benham　was　already　becoming　accustomed　to　disregard　Prothero。　　He　was　looking　over　him　at　the　vast　heaving　trouble　of　Russia；　which　now　was　like　a　sea　that　tumbles　under　the　hurrying　darknesses　of　an　approaching　storm。　　In　those　days　it　looked　as　though　it　must　be　an　overwhelming　storm。　　He　was　drinking　in　the　wide　and　massive　Russian　effects；　the　drifting　crowds　in　the　entangling　streets；　the　houses　with　their　strange　lettering　in　black　and　gold；　the　innumerable　barbaric　churches；　the　wildly　driven　droshkys；　the　sombre　red　fortress　of　the　Kremlin；　with　its　bulbous　churches　clustering　up　into　the　sky；　the　crosses；　the　innumerable　gold　crosses；　the　mad　church　of　St。　Basil；　carrying　the　Russian　note　beyond　the　pitch　of　permissible　caricature；　and　in　this　setting　the　obscure　drama　of　clustering；　staring；　sash…wearing　peasants；　long…　haired　students；　sane…eyed　women；　a　thousand　varieties　of　uniform；　a　running　and　galloping　to　and　fro　of　messengers；　a　flutter　of　little　papers；　whispers；　shouts；　shots；　a　drama　elusive　and　portentous；　a　gathering　of　forces；　an　accumulation　of　tension　going　on　to　a　perpetual　clash　and　clamour　of　bells。　　Benham　had　brought　letters　of　introduction　to　a　variety　of　people；　some　had　vanished；　it　seemed。　They　were　〃away；〃　the　porters　said；　and　they　continued　to　be　〃away；〃it　was　the　formula；　he　learnt；　for　arrest；　others　were　evasive；　a　few　showed　themselves　extraordinarily　anxious　to　inform　him　about　things；　to　explain　themselves　and　things　about　them　exhaustively。　　One　young　student　took　him　to　various　meetings　and　showed　him　in　great　detail　the　scene　of　the　recent　murder　of　the　Grand　Duke　Sergius。　　The　buildings　opposite　the　old　French　cannons　were　still　under　repair。　　〃The　assassin　stood　just　here。　　The　bomb　fell　there；　look！　right　down　there　towards　the　gate；　that　was　where　they　found　his　arm。　　He　was　torn　to　fragments。　　He　was　scraped　up。　He　was　mixed　with　the　horses。　。　。　。〃　Every　one　who　talked　spoke　of　the　outbreak　of　revolution　as　a　matter　of　days　or　at　the　utmost　weeks。　　And　whatever　question　Benham　chose　to　ask　these　talkers　were　prepared　to　answer。　　Except　one。　　〃And　after　the　revolution；〃　he　asked；　〃what　then？　。　。　。〃　　Then　they　waved　their　hands；　and　failed　to　convey　meanings　by　reassuring　gestures。　He　was　absorbed　in　his　effort　to　understand　this　universal　ominous　drift　towards　a　conflict。　　He　was　trying　to　piece　together　a　process；　if　it　was　one　and　the　same　process；　which　involved　riots　in　Lodz；　fighting　at　Libau；　wild　disorder　at　Odessa；　remote　colossal　battlings　in　Manchuria；　the　obscure　movements　of　a　disastrous　fleet　lost　somewhere　now　in　the　Indian　seas；　steaming　clumsily　to　its　fate；　he　was　trying　to　rationalize　it　all　in　his　mind；　to　comprehend　its　direction。　　He　was　struggling　strenuously　with　the　obscurities　of　the　language　in　which　these　things　were　being　discussed　about　him；　a　most　difficult　language　demanding　new　sets　of　visual　images　because　of　its　strange　alphabet。　　Is　it　any　wonder　that　for　a　time　he　failed　to　observe　that　Prothero　was　involved　in　some　entirely　disconnected　affair。　They　were　staying　at　the　big　Cosmopolis　bazaar　in　the　Theatre　Square。　　Thither；　through　the　doors　that　are　opened　by　distraught…　looking　men　with　peacocks'　feathers　round　their　caps；　came　Benham's　friends　and　guides　to　take　him　out　and　show　him　this　and　that。　　At　first　Prothero　always　accompanied　Benham　on　these　expeditions；　then　he　began　to　make　excuses。　　He　would　stay　behind　in　the　hotel。　　Then　when　Benham　returned　Prothero　would　have　disappeared。　　When　the　porter　was　questioned　about　Prothero　his　nescience　was　profound。　One　night　no　Prothero　was　discoverable　at　any　hour；　and　Benham；　who　wanted　to　discuss　a　project　for　going　on　to　Kieff　and　Odessa；　was　alarmed。　〃Moscow　is　a　late　place；〃　said　Benham's　student　friend。　　〃You　need　not　be　anxious　until　after　four　or　five　in　the　morning。　　It　will　be　quite　timeQUITE　time　to　be　anxious　to…morrow。　　He　may　beclose　at　hand。〃　When　Benham　hunted　up　Prothero　in　his　room　next　morning　he　found　him　sleepy　and　irritable。　〃I　don't　trouble　if　YOU　are　late；〃　said　Prothero；　sitting　up　in　his　bed　with　a　red　resentful　face　and　crumpled　hair。　　〃I　wasn't　born　yesterday。〃　〃I　wanted　to　talk　about　leaving　Moscow。〃　〃I　don't　want　to　leave　Moscow。〃　〃But　OdessaOdessa　is　the　centre　of　interest　just　now。〃　〃I　want　to　stay　in　Moscow。〃　Benham　looked　baffled。　Prothero　stuck　up　his　knees　and　rested　his　night…shirted　arms　upon　them。　　〃I　don't　want　to　leave　Moscow；〃　he　said；　〃and　I'm　not　going　to　do　so。〃　〃But　haven't　we　done〃　Prothero　interrupted。　　〃You　may。　　But　I　haven't。　　We're　not　after　the　same　things。　　Things　that　interest　you；　Benham；　don't　interest　me。　　I've　founddifferent　things。〃　His　expression　was　extraordinarily　defiant。　〃I　want；〃　he　went　on；　〃to　put　our　affairs　on　a　different　footing。　Now　you've　opened　the　matter　we　may　as　well　go　into　it。　　You　were　good　enough　to　bring　me　here。　。　。　。　　There　was　a　sort　of　understanding　we　were　working　together。　。　。　。　　We　aren't。　。　。　。　　The　long　and　short　of　it　is；　Benham；　I　want　to　pay　you　for　my　journey　here　and　go　on　my　ownindependently。〃　His　eye　and　voice　achieved　a　fierceness　that　Benham　found　nearly　incredible　in　him。　Something　that　had　got　itself　overlooked　in　the　press　of　other　matters　jerked　back　into　Benham's　memory。　　It　popped　back　so　suddenly　that　for　an　instant　he　wanted　to　laugh。　　He　turned　towards　the　window；　picked　his　way　among　Prothero's　carelessly　dropped　garments；　and　stood　for　a　moment　staring　into　the　square；　with　its　drifting；　assembling　and　dispersing　fleet　of　trains　and　its　long　line　of　blue…coated　IZVOSHTCHIKS。　　Then　he　turned。　〃Billy；〃　he　said；　〃didn't　I　see　you　the　other　evening　driving　towards　the　Hermitage？〃　〃Yes；〃　said　Prothero；　and　added；　〃that's　it。〃　〃You　were　with　a　lady。〃　〃And　she　IS　a　lady；〃　said　Prothero；　so　deeply　moved　that　his　face　twitched　as　though　he　was　going　to　weep。　〃She's　a　Russian？〃　〃She　had　an　English　mother。　　Oh；　you　needn't　stand　there　and　look　so　damned　ironical！　　She'sshe's　a　woman。　　She's　a　thing　of　kindness。　。　。　。〃　He　was　too　full　to　go　on。　〃Billy；　old　boy；〃　said　Benham；　distressed；　〃I　don't　want　to　be　ironical〃　Prothero　had　got　his　voice　again。　〃You'd　better　know；〃　he　said；　〃you'd　better　know。　　She's　one　of　those　women　who　live　in　this　hotel。〃　〃Live　in　this　hotel！〃　〃On　the　fourth　floor。　　Didn't　you　know？　　It's　the　way　in　most　of　these　big　Russian　hotels。　　They　come　down　and　sit　about　after　lunch　and　dinner。　　A　woman　with　a　yellow　ticket。　　Oh！　　I　don't　care。　　I　don't　care　a　rap。　　She's　been　kind　to　me；　she'sshe's　dear　to　me。　How　are　you　to　understand？　　I　shall　stop　in　Moscow。　　I　shall　take　her　to　England。　　I　can't　live　without　her；　Benham。　　And　then　　And　then　you　come　worrying　me　to　come　to　your　damned　Odessa！〃　And　suddenly　this　extraordinary　young　man　put　his　hands　to　his　face　as　though　he　feared　to　lose　it　and　would　hold　it　on；　and　after　an　apoplectic　moment　burst　noisily　into　tears。　　They　ran　between　his　fingers。　　〃Get　out　of　my　room；〃　he　shouted；　suffocatingly。　　〃What　business　have　you　to　come　prying　on　me？〃　Benham　sat　down　on　a　chair　in　the　middle　of　the　room　and　stared　round…eyed　at　his　friend。　　His　hands　were　in　his　pockets。　　For　a　time　he　said　nothing。　〃Billy；〃　he　began　at　last；　and　stopped　again。　　〃Billy；　in　this　country　somehow　one　wants　to　talk　like　a　Russian。　　Billy；　my　dear　I'm　not　your　father；　I'm　not　your　judge。　　I'munreasonably　fond　of　you。　　It's　not　my　business　to　settle　what　is　right　or　wrong　for　you。　If　you　want　to　stay　in　Moscow；　stay　in　Moscow。　　Stay　here；　and　stay　as　my　guest。　。　。　。〃　He　stopped　and　remained　staring　at　his　friend　for　a　little　space。　〃I　didn't　know；〃　said　Prothero　brokenly；　〃I　didn't　know　it　was　possible　to　get　so　fond　of　a　person。　。　。　。〃　Benham　stood　up。　　He　had　never　found　Prothero　so　attractive　and　so　abominable　in　his　life　before。　〃I　shall　go　to　Odessa　alone；　Billy。　　I'll　make　things　all　right　here　before　I　go。　。　。　。〃　He　closed　the　door　behind　him　and　went　in　a　state　of　profound　thought　to　his　own　room。　。　。　。　Presently　Prothero　came　to　him　with　a　vague　inopportune　desire　to　explain　what　so　evidently　did　not　need　explaining。　　He　walked　about　the　room　trying