the island pharisees-第22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！



with　his　shoulders；　as　though　to　stone　his　hearers　with　his　point　of

view。　　His　face　grew　paler；　his　fine　eyes　finer；　his　lips　ironical。

Almost　painful　was　this　combination　of　the　〃strong〃　man　and　the

student　who　was　bound　to　go　to　pieces　if　you　hit　him　a　smart　blow。



〃As　for　forgiving　faithless　wives；〃　he　said；　〃and　all　that　sort　of

thing；　I　don't　believe　in　sentiment。〃



The　words　were　high…pitched　and　sarcastic。　　Shelton　looked　hastily

around。　　All　their　faces　were　complacent。　　He　grew　red；　and　suddenly

remarked；　in　a　soft；　clear　voice：



〃I　see！〃



He　was　conscious　that　he　had　never　before　made　an　impression　of　this

sort；　and　that　he　never　would　again。　　The　cold　hostility　flashing　out

all　round　was　most　enlightening；　it　instantly　gave　way　to　the　polite；

satirical　indulgence　peculiar　to　highly…cultivated　men。　　Crocker　rose

nervously；　he　seemed　scared；　and　was　obviously　relieved　when　Shelton；

following　his　example；　grasped　the　little　fat　man's　hand；　who　said

good…night　in　a　voice　shaken　by　tobacco。



〃Who　are　your　unshaven　friends？〃　he　heard　as　the　door　was　closed

behind　them。









CHAPTER　XIX



AN　INCIDENT



〃Eleven　o'clock；〃　said　Crocker；　as　they　went　out　of　college。　　〃I

don't　feel　sleepy；　shall　we　stroll　along　the　'High'　a　bit？〃



Shelton　assented；　he　was　too　busy　thinking　of　his　encounter　with　the

dons　to　heed　the　soreness　of　his　feet。　　This；　too；　was　the　last　day

of　his　travels；　for　he　had　not　altered　his　intention　of　waiting　at

Oxford　till　July。



〃We　call　this　place　the　heart　of　knowledge；〃　he　said；　passing　a　great

building　that　presided；　white　and　silent；　over　darkness；　〃it　seems　to

me　as　little　that；　as　Society　is　the　heart　of　true　gentility。〃



Crocker's　answer　was　a　grunt；　he　was　looking　at　the　stars；

calculating　possibly　in　how　long　he　could　walk　to　heaven。



〃No；〃　proceeded　Shelton；　〃we've　too　much　common…sense　up　here　to

strain　our　minds。　　We　know　when　it's　time　to　stop。　　We　pile　up　news

of　Papias　and　all　the　verbs　in　'ui'　but　as　for　news　of　life　or　of

oneself！　　Real　seekers　after　knowledge　are　a　different　sort。　　They

fight　in　the　darkno　quarter　given。　　We　don't　grow　that　sort　up

here。〃



〃How　jolly　the　limes　smell！〃　　said　Crocker。



He　had　halted　opposite　a　garden；　and　taken　hold　of　Shelton　by　a

button　of　his　coat。　　His　eyes；　like　a　dog's；　stared　wistfully。　　It

seemed　as　though　he　wished　to　speak；　but　feared　to　give　offence。



〃They　tell　you；〃　pursued　Shelton；　〃that　we　learn　to　be　gentlemen　up

here。　　We　learn　that　better　through　one　incident　that　stirs　our

hearts　than　we　learn　it　here　in　all　the　time　we're　up。〃



〃Hum！〃　　muttered　Crocker；　twisting　at　the　button；　〃those　fellows　who

seemed　the　best　sorts　up　here　have　turned　out　the　best　sorts

afterwards。〃



〃I　hope　not；〃　said　Shelton　gloomily；　〃I　was　a　snob　when　I　was　up

here。　　I　believed　all　I　was　told；　anything　that　made　things　pleasant；

my　〃set〃　were　nothing　but…〃



Crocker　smiled　in　the　darkness；　he　had　been　too　〃cranky〃　to　belong　to

Shelton's　〃set。〃



〃You　never　were　much　like　your　'set；'　old　chap；〃　he　said。



Shelton　turned　away；　sniffing　the　perfume　of　the　limes。　　Images　were

thronging　through　his　mind。　　The　faces　of　his　old　friends　strangely

mixed　with　those　of　people　he　had　lately　metthe　girl　in　the　train；

Ferrand；　the　lady　with　the　short；　round；　powdered　face；　the　little

barber；　others；　too；　and　floating；　mysterious；connected　with　them

all；　Antonia's　face。　　The　scent　of　the　lime…trees　drifted　at　him　with

its　magic　sweetness。　　From　the　street　behind；　the　footsteps　of　the

passers…by　sounded　muffled；　yet　exact；　and　on　the　breeze　was　borne

the　strain：　〃For　he's　a　jolly　good　fellow！



For　he's　a　jolly　good　fellow！　　For　he's　a　jolly　good　fe…ellow！　　And

so　say　all　of　us！〃



〃Ah！〃　he　said；　〃they　were　good　chaps。〃



〃I　used　to　think；〃　said　Crocker　dreamily；　〃that　some　of　them　had　too

much　side。〃



And　Shelton　laughed。



〃The　thing　sickens　me；〃　said　he；　〃the　whole　snobbish；　selfish

business。　　The　place　sickens　me；　lined　with　cotton…wool…made　so

beastly　comfortable。〃



Crocker　shook　his　head。



〃It's　a　splendid　old　place；〃　he　said；　his　eyes　fastening　at　last　on

Shelton's　boots。　　〃You　know；　old　chap；〃　he　stammered；　〃I　think　you

you　ought　to　take　care！〃



〃Take　care？　　What　of？〃



Crocker　pressed　his　arm　convulsively。



〃Don't　be　waxy；　old　boy；〃　he　said；　〃I　mean　that　you　seem　somehowto

beto　be　losing　yourself。〃



〃Losing　myself！　　Finding　myself；　you　mean！〃



Crocker　did　not　answer；　his　face　was　disappointed。　　Of　what　exactly

was　he　thinking？　　In　Shelton's　heart　there　was　a　bitter　pleasure　in

knowing　that　his　friend　was　uncomfortable　on　his　account；　a　sort　of

contempt；　a　sort　of　aching。　　Crocker　broke　the　silence。



〃I　think　I　shall　do　a　bit　more　walking　to…night；〃　he　said；　〃I　feel

very　fit。　　Don't　you　really　mean　to　come　any　further　with　me；　Bird？〃



And　there　was　anxiety　in　his　voice；　as　though　Shelton　were　in　danger

of　missing　something　good。　　The　latter's　feet　had　instantly　begun　to

ache　and　burn。



〃No！〃？　　he　said；　〃you　know　what　I'm　staying　here　for。〃



Crocker　nodded。



〃She　lives　near　here。　　Well；　then；　I'll　say　good…bye。　　I　should　like

to　do　another　ten　miles　to…night。〃



〃My　dear　fellow；　you're　tired　and　lame。〃



Crocker　chuckled。



〃No；〃　he　said；　〃I　want　to　get　on。　　See　you　in　London。　　Good…bye！〃

and；　gripping　Shelton's　hand；　he　turned　and　limped　away。



Shelton　called　after　him：　〃Don't　be　an　idiot：　You　'll　only　knock

yourself　up。〃



But　the　sole　answer　was　the　pale　moon　of　Crocker's　face　screwed　round

towards　him　in　the　darkness；　and　the　waving　of　his　stick。



Shelton　strolled　slowly　on；　leaning　over　the　bridge；　he　watched　the

oily　gleam　of　lamps；　on　the　dark　water　underneath　the　trees。　　He　felt

relieved；　yet　sorry。　　His　thoughts　were　random；　curious；　half

mutinous；　half　sweet。　　That　afternoon　five　years　ago；　when　he　had

walked　back　from　the　river　with　Antonia　across　the　Christchurch

meadows；　was　vivid　to　his　mind；　the　scent　of　that　afternoon　had　never

died　away　from　him…the　aroma　of　his　love。　　Soon　she　would　be　his

wifehis　wife！　　The　faces　of　the　dons　sprang　up　before　him。　　They

had　wives；　perhaps。　　Fat；　lean；　satirical；　and　compromisingwhat　was

it　that　through　diversity　they　had　in　common？　　Cultured　intolerance！

。　　。　　。　　Honour！　　。　　。　　。　　A　queer　subject　to　discuss。　　Honour！　　The

honour　that　made　a　fuss；　and　claimed　its　rights！　　And　Shelton　smiled。

〃As　if　man's　honour　suffered　when　he's　injured！〃　　And　slowly　he

walked　along　the　echoing；　empty　street　to　his　room　at　the　Bishop's

Head。　　Next　morning　he　received　the　following　wire：



　　　　　Thirty　miles　left　eighteen　hours　heel　bad　but　going

　　　　　strong　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　CROCKER



He　passed　a　fortnight　at　the　Bishop's　Head；　waiting　for　the　end　of

his　probation；　and　the　end　seemed　long　in　coming。　　To　be　so　near

Antonia；　and　as　far　as　if　he　lived　upon　another　planet；　was　worse

than　ever。　　Each　day　he　took　a　sculling　skiff；　and　pulled　down　to

near　Holm　Oaks；　on　the　chance　of　her　being　on　the　river；　but　the

house　was　two　miles　off；　and　the　chance　but　slender。　　She　never　came。

After　spending　the　afternoons　like　this　he　would　return；　pulling　hard

against　the　stream；　with　a　queer　feeling　of　relief；　dine　heartily；

and　fall　adreaming　over　his　cigar。　　Each　morning　he　awoke　in　an

excited　mood；　devoured　his　letter　if　he　had　one；　and　sat　down　to

write　to　her。　　These　letters　of　his　were　the　most　amazing　portion　of

that　fortnight。　　They　were　remarkable　for　failing　to　express　any

single　one　of　his　real　thoughts；　but　they　were　full　of　sentiments

which　were　not　what　he　was　truly　feeling；　and　when　he　set　himself　to

analyse；　he　had　such　moments　of　delirium　that　he　was　scared；　and

shocked；　and　quite　unable　to　write　anything。　　He　made　the　discovery

that　no　two　human　beings　ever　tell　each　other　what　they　really　feel；

except；　perhaps；　in　situations　with　which　he　could　not　connect

Antonia's　ice…blue　eyes　and　brilliant　smile。　　All　the　world　was　too

engaged　in　planning　decency。



Absorbed　by　longings；　he　but　vaguely　realised　the　turmoil　of

Commemoration；　which　had　gathered　its　hundreds　for　their　annual　cure

of　salmon　mayonnaise　and　cheap　champagne。　　In　preparation　for　his

visit　to　Holm　Oaks　he　shaved　his　beard　and　had　some　clothes　sent　down

from　London。　　With　them　was　forwarded　a　letter　from　Ferrand；　which

ran　as　follows：





IMPERIAL　PEACOCK　HOTEL；

FOLKESTONE；



June　20。



MY　DEAR　SIR；



Forgive　me　for　not　having　written　to　you　before；　but　I　have　been　so

bothered　that　I　have　felt　no　taste　for　writing；　when　I　have　the　time；

I　have　some　curious　stories　to　tell　you。　　Once　again　I　have

encountered　that　demon　of　misfortune　which　dogs　my　footsteps。　　Being

occupied　all　day　and　nearly　all　night　upon　business　which　brings　me　a

heap　of　worries　and　next　to　no　profit；　I　have　no　chance　to　look　after

my　things。　　Thieves　have　entered　my　room；　stolen　everything；　and　left

me　an　empty　box。　　I　am　once　again　almost　without　clothes；　and　know

not　where　to　turn　to　make　that　figure　necessary　for　the　fulfilment　of

my　duties。　　You　see；　I　am　not　lucky。　　Since　coming　to　your　country；

the　sole　piece　of　fortune　I　have　had　was　to　tumble　on　a　man　like　you。

Excuse　me　for　not　writing　more　at　this　moment。　　Hoping　that　you　are

in　good　health；　and　in　affectionately　pressing　your　hand；

　　　　　　　　　　I　am；

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Always　your　devoted

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　LOUIS　FERRAND。





Upon　reading　this　letter　Shelton　had　once　more　a　sense　of　being

exploited；　of　which　he　was　ashamed；　he　sat　down　immediately　and　wrote

the　following　reply：



BISHOPS　HEAD　HOTEL；

OXFORD；



June　25。



MY　DEAR　FERRAND；



I　am　grieved　to　hear　of　your　misfortunes。　　I　was　much　hoping　that　you

had　made　a　better　start。　　I　enclose　you　Post　Office　Orders　for　four

pounds。　　Always　glad　to　hear　from　you。



Yours　sincerely；



RICHARD　SHELTON。





He　posted　it　with　the　satisfaction　that　a　man　feels　who　nobly　shakes

off　his　responsibilities。



Three　days　before　July　he　met　with　one　of　those　disturbing　incidents

which　befall　no　persons　who　attend　quietly　to　their；　property　and

reputation。



The　night　was　unbearably　hot；　and　he　had　wandered　out　with　his　cigar；

a　woman　came　sidling　up　and　spoke　to　him。　　He　perceived　her　to　be　one

of　those　made　by　men　into　mediums　for　their　pleasure；　to　feel

sympathy　with　whom　was　sentimental。　　Her　face　was　flushed；　her

whisper　hoarse；　she　had　no　attractions　but　the　curves　of　a　tawdry

figure。　　Shelton　was　repelled　by　her　proprietary　tone；　by　her　blowzy

face；　and　by　the　scent　of　patchouli。　　Her　touch　on　his　arm　startled

him；　sending　a　shiver　through　his　marrow；　he　almost　leaped　aside；　and

walked　the　faster。　　But　her　breathing　as　she　followed　sounded

laboured；　it　suddenly　seemed　pitiful　that　a　woman　sho