jeremy-第32章

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blue　on　their　surface；　with　green　depths　and　red　shelving　rock。

〃Now　you　sit　there；〃　he　said　cheerfully。　〃No　one　will　touch　you。　The
crabs　won't　get　at　you。〃

He　looked　about　him　and　noticed　with　surprise　where　he　was。　He　was
sitting　on　the　farther　corner　of　the　very　beach　where　the　Scarlet
Admiral　had　landed　with　his　men。　It　was　out　there　beyond　that　bend
of　rock　that　the　wonderful　ship　had　rode；　with　its　gold　and　silk；
its　jewelled　masts　and　its　glittering　board。　Directly　opposite　to
him　was　the　little　green　path　that　led　up　the　hill；　and　above　it　the
very　fieldFarmer　Ede's　field！

For　a　long；　long　time　they　sat　there　in　silence。　He　forgot　Charlotte
in　his　interest　over　his　discovery；　staring　about　him　and　watching
how　quickly　the　August　afternoon　was　losing　its　heat　and　colour；　so
that　already　a　little　cold　autumnal　wind　was　playing　about　the　sand；
the　colours　were　being　drawn　from　the　sky；　and　a　grey　web　was　slowly
pulled　across　the　sea。

〃Now；〃　he　said　cheerfully　at　last；　to　Charlotte；　〃I'll　look　for　the
crabs。〃

〃I　hate　crabs；〃　she　said。　〃I　want　to　go　home。〃

〃You　can't　go　home；〃　he　answered　furiously。　〃What's　the　good　of
saying　that　over　and　over　again？　You　aren't　going　yet；　so　it's　no
use　saying　you　are。〃

〃You're　a　horrid　little　boy；〃　she　brought　out　with　a　kind　of
inanimate　sob。

He　did　not　reply　to　that；　he　was　still　trying　to　behave　like　a
gentleman。　How　could　he　ever　have　liked　her？　Why；　her　hair　was　not
so　much　after　all。　What　was　hair　when　you　come　to　think　of　it？　Mary
got　on　quite　well　with　hers；　ugly　though　it　was。　She　was　stupid；
stupid；　stupid！　She　was　like　someone　dead。　As　he　searched　for　the
crabs　that　weren't　there　he　felt　his　temper　growing。　Soon　he　would
lead　her　back　to　her　mother　and　leave　her　there　and　never　see　her
again。

But　this　was　not　the　climax　of　the　afternoon。

When　he　looked　up　from　gazing　into　the　pool　the　whole　world　seemed
to　have　changed。　He　was　still　dazzled　perhaps　by　the　reflection　of
the　water　in　his　eyes；　and　yet　it　was　not　altogether　that。　It　was
not　altogether　because　the　day　was　slipping　from　afternoon　into
evening。

The　lazy　ripple　of　the　water　as　it　slutched　up　the　sand　and　then
broke；　the　shadows　that　were　creeping　farther　and　farther　from　rock
to　rock；　the　green　light　that　pushed　up　from　the　horizon　into　the
faint　blue；　the　grey　web　of　the　sea；　the　thick　gathering　of　the
hills　as　they　crept　more　closely　about　the　little　darkening　beach　。
。　。　it　was　none　of　these　things。

He　began　hurriedly　to　tell　Charlotte　about　the　Scarlet　Admiral。　Even
as　he　told　her　he　was　himself　caught　into　the　excitement　of　the
narration。　He　forgot　her；　he　did　not　see　her　white　cheeks；　her　mouth
open　with　terror；　an　expression　new　to　her；　that　her　face　had　never
known　before；　stealing　into　her　eyes。　He　told　her　how　the　Fool　had
seen　the　ship；　how　the　Admiral　had　landed；　then　left　his　men　on　the
beach；　how　he　had　climbed　the　little　green　path；　how　the　young　man
had　followed　him；　how　they　had　fought；　how　the　young　man　had　fallen。
What　was　that？　Jeremy　jumped　from　his　rock。　〃I　say；　did　you　hear
anything？〃

And　that　was　enough　for　Charlotte。　With　one　scream；　a　scream　such　as
she　had　never　uttered　in　her　life　before；　sue　turned；　and　then；
running　as　indeed　she　had　never　run　before；　she　stumbled；　half　fell；
stumbled；　finally　ran　as　though　the　whole　world　of　her　ghosts　was
behind　her。　Her　screams　were　so　piercing　that　they　may　well　have
startled；　the　villagers　of　Rafiel。

Jeremy　followed　her；　but　his　mind　was　not　with　her。　Was　he　going　to
see　something？　What　was　it？　Who　was　it？

Then　the　awful　catastrophe　that　finished　the　afternoon　occurred。
Turning　the　corner　of　the　rock；　Charlotte　missed　her　footing　and
fell　straight　into　a　pool。　Jeremy；　Mary　and　Helen　were　upon　her
almost　as　she　fell。　They　dragged　her　out；　but　alas！　what　a　sight　was
there！　Instead　of　the　beautiful　and　magnificent　Charlotte　there　was
a　bedraggled　and　dirty　little　girl。

But　also；　instead　of　an　inanimate　and　lifeless　doll；　there　was　at
last　a　human　being；　a　terrified　soul。

The　scene　that　followed　passes　all　power　of　description。　Mrs。　Le
Page　wailed　like　a　lost　spirit；　Mr。　Le　Page　was　so　rude　to　Mr。　Cole
that　it　might　confidently　be　said　that　those　two　gentlemen　would
never　speak　to　one　another　again。　Mrs。　Cole；　dismayed　though　she
was；　had　some　fatalistic　consolation　that　she　had　known　from　the
first　that　the　picnic　would　be　a　most　dreadful　failure　and　that　the
worst　had　occurred；　there　was　no　more　to　come。

Everyone　was　too　deeply　occupied　to　scold　Jeremy。　They　all　moved　up
to　the　farm；　Charlotte　behaving　most　strangely；　even　striking　her
mother　and　crying：　〃Let　me　go！　Let　me　go！　I　don't　want　to　be　clean！
I'm　frightened！　I'm　frightened！〃

Jeremy　hung　behind　the　others。　At　the　bottom　of　the　little　lane　he
stood　and　waited。　Was　there　a　figure　coming　up　through　the　dusk？　Did
someone　pass　him？　Why　did　he　suddenly　feel　no　longer　afraid；　but
only　reassured　and　with　the　strangest　certainty　that　the　lane；　the
beach；　the　field　belonged　to　him　now？　He　would　come　there　and　live
when　he　grew　up。　He　would　come　often。　Had　the　Scarlet　Admiral　passed
him？　If　not　the　Scarlet　Admiral；　then　the　other。

The　sea　picnic　had；　after　all；　been　not　quite　a　misfortune。

Jeremy　had　been　made　free　of　the　land。

And　Charlotte？　Charlotte　had　been　woken　up；　and　never　would　go　to
sleep　again。




CHAPTER　X

MARY


I


Mary　Cole　had　been；　all　her　life；　that　thing　beloved　of　the
sentimental　novelist；　a　misunderstood　child。　She　was　the　only
misunderstood　member　of　the　Cole　family；　and　she　was　misunderstood；
as　is　very　often　the　case；　in　a　large　measure　because　she　was　so
plain。　Had　she　been　good…looking　as　Helen；　or　independent　as　Jeremy；
she　would　have　either　attracted　the　world　in　general；　or　have　been
indifferent　as　to　whether　she　attracted　it　or　not。　As　it　was；　she
longed　to　attract　everyone；　and；　in　truth；　attracted　nobody。　She
might　have　found　consolation　in　books　or　her　own　highly…coloured
imaginations　had　it　not　been　for　the　burning　passions　which　she
formed；　at　a　very　early　age；　for　living　people。　For　some　years　now
her　life　had　centred　round　her　brother　Jeremy。　Had　the　Coles　been　an
observant　family　they　might；　perhaps；　have　found　some　pathos　in　the
way　in　which　Mary；　with　her　pale　sallow　complexion；　her　pear…shaped
face　with　its　dull；　grey　eyes；　her　enormous　glasses；　her　lanky
colourless　hair；　and　her　thin；　bony　figure；　gazed　at　her　masculine
and　independent　brother。

Uncle　Samuel　might　have　noticed；　but　he　was　occupied　with　his
painting。　For　the　rest　they　were　not　observant。　Mary　was　only　seven
years　of　age；　but　she　had　the　capacity　for　being　hurt　of　a　person　of
thirty。　She　was　hurt　by　everything　and　everybody。　When　somebody
said：　〃Now；　Mary；　hurry　up。　You're　always　so　slow；〃　she　was　hurt。　If
Helen　told　her　that　she　was　selfish；　she　was　hurt；　and　would　sit
wondering　whether　she　was　selfish　or　no。　If　Mrs。　Cole　said　that　she
must　brush　her　hair　more　carefully　she　was　hurt；　and　when　Jeremy
said　anything　sharp　to　her　she　was　in　agony。　She　discovered　very
quickly　that　no　one　cared　for　her　agonies。　The　Coles　were　a　plain；
matter…of…fact　race；　and　had　the　day's　work　to　finish。　They　had　no
intention　of　thinking　too　much　of　their　children's　feelings。　Thirty
years　ago　that　was　not　so　popular　as　it　is　now。　Meanwhile；　her
devotion　to　her　brother　grew　with　every　month　of　her　life。　She
thought　him；　in　all　honesty；　the　most　miraculous　of　all　human
beings。　There　was　more　in　her　worship　than　mere　dog…like　fidelity。
She　adored　him　for　reasons　that　were　real　and　true；　for　his
independence；　his　obstinacy；　his　sense　of　fun；　his　sudden；
unexpected　kindnesses；　his　sudden　helplessness；　and　above　all；　for
his　bravery。　He　seemed　to　her　the　bravest　hero　in　all　history；　and
she　felt　it　the　more　because　she　was　herself　compact　of　every　fear
and　terror　known　to　man。　It　was　not　enough　for　her；　the　ordinary
panic　that　belongs　to　all　human　life　at　every　stage　of　its　progress。
She　feared　everything　and　everybody；　and　only　hid　her　fear　by　a
persistent　cover　of　almost　obstinate　stupidity；　which　deceived；　to
some　extent；　her　relations；　but　never　in　any　degree　herself。　She
knew　that　she　was　plain；　awkward　and　hesitating；　but　she　knew　also
that　she　was　clever。　She　knew　that　she　could　do　everything　twice　as
fast　as　Jeremy　and　Helen；　that　she　was　often　so　impatient　of　their
slow　progress　at　lessons　that　she　would　beat　her　foot　on　the　ground
in　a　kind　of　agonised　impatience。　She　knew　that　she　was　clever；　and
she　wondered　sometimes　why　her　cleverness　did　not　give　her　more
advantage。　Why；　for　instance；　should　Helen's　good　looks　be　noticed
at　once　by　every　visitor　and　her　own　cleverness　be　unnoticed？
Certainly；　on　occasions；　her　mother　would　say：　〃And　Mary？　I　don't
think　you've　met　Mary。　Come　and　say；　how　do　you　do；　Mary。　Mary　is
the　clever　one　of　the　family！〃　but　it　was　always　said　in　a
deprecating；　apologetic　tone；　which　made　Mary　hang　her　head　and　hate
both　herself　and　her　mother。

She　told　herself　stories　of　the　times　when　Jeremy　would　have　to
depend　entirely　upon　the　splendour　of　her　brains　for　his　delivery
from　some　horrordeath；　torture　or　disgrace。　At　present　those　times
were；　she　was　bound　to　confess　to　herself；　very　distant。　He　depended
upon　no　one　for　anything；　he　could　not　be　said　to　need　Mary's
assistance　in　any　particular。　And　with　this　burning　desire　of　hers
came；　of　course；　jealousy。　There　are　some　happy；　easy　natures　to
whom　jealousy　is；　through　life；　unknown。　They　are　to　be　envied。
Jealousy　in　a　grown…up　human　being　is　bad；　in　a　child　it　is
terrible。　Had　you　told　Mrs。　Colegood　mother　though　she　wasthat
her　daughter　Mary；　aged　seven；　suffered　tortures　through　jealousy；
she　would　have　assured　you　that　it　was　not；　in　reality；　jealousy；
but　rather　indigestion；　and　that　a　little　medicine　would　put　it
right。

Mary　was　quite　helpless。　What　is　a　child　to　do　if　she　is　jealous？
Other　children　do　not　understand　her；　her　elders　laugh　at　her。　Mary；
with　a　wisdom　greatly　beyond　her　years；　realised　very　quickly　that
this　was　some　sort　of　horrible　disease；　with　which　she　must　wrestle
alone。　Above　all；　she　must　never　allow　Jeremy　to　know　anything　about
it。　He　was；　of　course；　sublimely　unaware　of　the　matter；　he　knew　that
Mary　was　silly　sometimes；　but　he　attributed　that　to　her　sex；　he　went
on　his　way；　happily　indifferent　whether　anyone　cared　for　him　or
no。　。　。

Mary　suffered　agonies　when；　as　sometimes　happened；　Jeremy　sat　with
his　arm　round　Helen's　neck　and　his　cheek　up　against　hers。　She
suffered　when；　in　a　mood　of　tempestuous　affection　to　the　whole
world；　he　kissed　Miss　Jones。　She　even　suffered　when　he　sat　at　his
mother's　feet　whilst　she　read　〃The　Dove　in　the　Eagle's　Nest；〃　or
〃Engel　the　Fearless。〃

Most　of　all；　however；　she　suffered　over　Hamlet。　She　knew　that　at
this　present　time　Hamlet　was　the　one　creature　for　whom　Jeremy
passionately　cared。　He　loved　his　mother；　but　with　the　love　that
custom　and　habit　has　tamed　and　modified；　although　since　Mrs。　Cole's
illness　in　the　early　summer　he　had　cared　for　her　in　a　manner　more
demonstrative　and　openly　affectionate。　Nevertheless；　it　was　Hamlet
who　commanded　Jeremy's