the captives-第36章

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p　and　extravagant　and　thoughtless。　〃A　good　chap。〃　〃A　sensible　fellow。〃　〃A　pal。〃　〃No　flies　on　Warlock。〃　That　was　the　kind　of　figure。　And　the　life　had　been　physical；　had　never　asked　questions；　had　never　known　morbidity；　had　lived　on　what　it　saw　and　could　touch　and　could　break　。　。　。　And　the　other　figure！　That　was；　physically；　less　plainly　seen。　No；　there　it　was；　standing　a　little　away　from　the　other；　standing　away；　contemptuously；　despising　it；　deriding　it。　Fat；　soft；　white　hanging　cheeks；　wearing　anything　to　cover　its　body；　but　shining　in　some　way　through　the　clothes；　so　that　it　was　body　that　you　saw。　A　soft　body；　hands　soft　and　the　colour　of　the　flesh　pale　and　unhealthy。　But　it　was　the　eyes　that　spoke：　the　mouth　trembled　and　was　weak；　the　chin　was　fat　and　feeble；　but　the　eyes　lived；　livedwere　eager；　fighting；　beseeching；　longing；　captive　eyes！

And　this　figure；　Martin　knew；　was　a　prey　to　every　morbid　desire；　rushed　to　sensual　excess　and　then　crept　back　miserably　to　search　for　some　spiritual　flagellation。　Above　all；　it　was　restless；　as　some　one　presses　round　a　dark　room　searching　for　the　lock　of　the　door；　restless　and　lonely；　cowardly　and　selfish；　but　searching　and　sensitive　and　even　faithful；　faithful　to　something　or　to　some　one　。　。　。　pursued　also　by　something　or　some　one。　A　figure　to　whom　this　world　offered　only　opportunities　for　sin　and　failure　and　defeat；　but　a　figure　to　whom　this　world　was　the　merest　shadow　hiding；　as　a　shade　hides　a　lamp；　the　life　within。　Wretched　enough　with　its　bad　health；　its　growing　corpulence；　its　weak　mouth；　its　furtive　desires；　but　despising；　nevertheless；　the　strong；　healthy　figure　beside　it。　Thurston　was　right。　Men　are　not　born　to　be　free；　but　to　fight；　to　the　very　death；　for　the　imprisonment　and　destruction　of　all　that　is　easiest　and　most　physically　active　and　most　pleasant　to　the　sight　and　touch　。　。　。

〃And　so　Hector　really　hopes　that　he'll　be　able　to　get　down　to　us　for　Christmas；　although　he's　been　asked　to　go　on　this　reading　party。　Of　course；　it's　simply　a　question　as　to　whether　he　works　better　at　home　or　with　his　friends。　If　he　were　a　weak　character；　I　think　Mr。　Alweed　would　insist　in　his　coming　home；　but　Hector　really　cares　for　his　work　more　than　anything。　He's　never　been　very　good　at　games；　his　short　sight　prevents　him；　poor　boy；　and　as　he　very　justly　remarked；　when　he　was　home　last　holidays；　'I　don't　see；　mother；　how　I　am　going　to　do　my　duty　as　a　solicitor　（that's　what　he　hopes　to　be）　if　I　don't　work　now。　Many　men　regard　Cambridge　as　a　time　for　play。　Not　so　I。'〃

〃But　I　hope　that　if　Hector　comes　home　this　Christmas　he'll　attend　the　Chapel　services。　The　influence　your　father　might　have　on　such　a　boy　as　Hector；　Mr。　Warlock；　a　boy；　sensitive　and　thoughtful　。　。　。　I　was　saying；　Miss　Pyncheon；　that　Hector〃

Miss　Pyncheon　was　the　soul　of　good…naturebut　she　was　much　more　than　that。　She　was　by　far　the　most　sensible；　genial；　and　worldly　of　the　Inside　Saints；　it　was；　in　fact；　astonishing　that　she　should　be　an　Inside　Saint　at　all。

Of　them　all　she　impressed　Martin　the　most；　because　there　was　nothing　of　the　crank　about　her。　She　went　to　theatres；　to　the　seaside　in　the　summer；　took　in　The　Queen；　and　was　a　subscriber　to　Boots'　Circulating　Library。　She　dressed　quietly　and　in　excellent　tastein　grey　or　black　and　white。　She　had　jolly　brown　eyes　and　a　dimple　in　the　middle　of　her　chin。　She　was　ready　to　discuss　any　question　with　any　one；　was　marvellously　broad…minded　and　tolerant；　and　although　she　was　both　poor　and　generous；　always　succeeded　in　making　her　little　flat　in　Soho　Square　pretty　and　attractive。

Her　chief　fault；　perhaps；　was　that　she　cared　for　no　one　especially　she　had　neither　lovers　nor　parents　nor　sisters　nor　brothers；　and　to　all　her　friends　she　behaved　with　the　same　kind　geniality；　welcoming　one　as　another。　She　was　thus　aloof　from　them　all　and　relied　upon　no　one。　The　centre　of　her　life　was；　of　course；　her　religion；　but　of　this　she　never　spoke；　although　strangely　enough　no　one　doubted　the　intensity　of　her　belief　and　the　reality　of　her　devotion。

She　was　a　determined　follower　of　Mr。　Warlock；　what　he　said　she　believed；　but　here；　too；　there　seemed　to　be　no　personal　attachment。　She　did　not　allow　criticism　of　him　in　her　own　presence；　but；　on　the　other　hand；　she　never　spoke　as　though　it　would　distress　her　very　greatly　to　lose　him。　He　was　a　sign；　a　symbol　。　。　。　If　one　symbol　went　another　could　be　found。

To　Martin　she　was　the　one　out…standing　proof　of　the　reality　of　the　Chapel。　All　the　othershis　sister；　Miss　Avies；　Thurston；　Crashaw；　the　Miss　Cardinals；　yes；　and　his　father　too；　were；　in　one　way　or　another；　eccentric；　abnormal；　but　Miss　Pyncheon　was　the　sane　every…　day　world；　the　worldly　world；　the　world　of　drinks　and　dinners；　and　banks　and　tobacconists；　and　yet　she　believed　as　profoundly　as　any　of　them。　What　did　she　believe？　She　was　an　Inside　Saint；　therefore　she　must　have　accepted　this　whole　story　of　the　Second　Coming　and　the　rest　of　it。　Of　course　women　would　believe　anything　。　。　。　Nevertheless　。　。　。

He　scarcely　listened　to　their　chatter。　He　was　forcing　himself　not　to　look　at　his　sister；　and　yet　Thurston's　news　seemed　so　extraordinary　to　him　that　his　eye　kept　stealing　round　to　her　to　see　whether　she　were　still　the　same。　Could　she　have　accepted　him；　that　bounder　and　cad　and　charlatan？　He　felt　a　sudden　cold　chill　of　isolation　as　though　in　this　world　none　of　the　ordinary　laws　were　followed。　〃By　God；　I　am　a　stranger　here；〃　he　thought。　It　was　not　until　after　dinner　that　night　that　he　was　alone　with　his　father。　He　had　resolved　on　many　fine　things　in　the　interval。　He　was　going　to　〃have　it　out　with　him；〃　〃to　put　his　foot　down；〃　〃to　tell　him　that　such　a　thing　as　Thurston's　marriage　to　his　sister　was　perfectly　impossible。〃　And　then；　for　the　thousandth　time　since　his　return　to　England　he　felt　strangely　weak　and　irresolute。　He　did　wish　to　be　〃firm〃　with　his　father；　but　it　would　have　been　so　much　easier　to　be　firm　had　he　not　been　so　fond　of　him。　〃Soft；　sentimental　weakness；〃　he　called　it　to　himself；　but　he　knew　that　it　was　something　deeper　than　that；　something　that　he　would　never　be　able　to　deny。

He　went　into　his　father's　study　that　night　with　a　strange　dismal　foreboding　as　though　he　were　being　drawn　along　upon　some　path　that　he　did　not　want　to　follow。　What　was　his　father　mixed　up　with　all　this　business　for？　Why　were　such　men　as　Thurston　in　existence？　Why　couldn't　life　be　simple　and　straightforward　with　people　like　his　father　and　himself　and　that　girl　Maggie　alone　somewhere　with　nothing　to　interfere？　Life　was　never　just　as　you　wanted　it；　always　a　little　askew；　a　little　twisted；　cynically　cocking　its　eye　at　you　before　it　vanished　round　the　corner？　He　didn't　seem　to　be　able　to　manage　it。　Anyway；　he　wasn't　going　to　have　that　fellow　Thurston　marrying　his　sister。

He　found　his　father　lying　back　in　his　arm…chair　fast　asleep；　looking　like　a　dead　man；　his　long　thin　face　pale　with　fatigue；　his　eyelids　a　dull　grey；　his　mouth　tightly　closed　as　though　in　a　grim　determination　to　pursue　some　battle。　And　at　the　sight　of　him　thus　worn　out　and　beaten　Martin's　affection　flooded　his　heart。　He　stood　opposite　his　father　looking　at　him　and　loving　him　more　deeply　than　he　had　ever　done　before。

〃I　will　take　him　away　from　all　this；〃　was　his　thought；　〃these　Thurstons　and　allout　of　all　this　。　。　。　We'll　go　off　abroad　somewhere。　And　I'll　make　him　fat　and　happy。〃

Then　his　father　suddenly　woke　up；　with　a　start　and　a　cry：　〃Where　am　I？〃　。　。　。　Then　he　suddenly　saw　Martin。　〃Martin；〃　he　said；　smiling。

Martin　smiled　back　and　then　began　at　once：　〃Father；　this　isn't　true　about　Thurston；　is　it？〃

He　saw；　as　he　had　often　done　before；　that　his　father　had　to　call　himself　up　from　some　world　of　vision　before　he　could　realise　even　his　surroundings。　Martin　he　recognised　intuitively　with　the　recognition　of　the　spirit；　but　he　seemed　to　take　in　the　details　of　the　room　slowly；　one　by　one；　as　though　blinded　by　the　light。

〃AhI've　been　dreaming；〃　he　said；　still　smiling　at　Martin　helplessly　and　almost　timidly。　〃I'm　so　tired　these　dayssuddenlyI　usen't　to　be　。　。　。〃　He　put　his　hand　to　his　forehead；　then　laid　it　on　Martin's　knee；　and　the　strength　and　warmth　of　that　seemed　suddenly　to　fill　him　with　vigour。

〃You're　never　tired；　are　you？〃　he　asked　as　a　child　might　ask　an　elder。

〃Very　seldom；〃　answered　Martin；　〃I　say；　father；　what　is　all　this　about　Thurston？〃

〃Thurston　。　。　。　Why；　what's　he　been　doing？〃

〃He　says　he's　engaged　to　Amy。〃　The　disgust　of　the　idea　made　Martin's　words；　against　his　will；　sharp　and　angry。

〃Does　he？　。　。　。　Yes；　I　remember。　He　spoke　to　me　about　it。〃

〃Of　course　it's　simply　his　infernal　cheek　。　。　。〃

Mr。　Warlock　sighed。　〃I　don't　know；　I'm　sure。　Amy　seemed　to　wish　it。〃

Martin　felt　then　more　strongly　than　before　the　Something　that　drove　him。　It　said　to　him：　〃Now；　then　。　。　。　here's　a　thing　for　you　to　make　a　row　abouta　big　row。　And　then　you　can　go　off　with　Maggie。〃　But；　on　the　other　hand；　there　was　Something　that　said：　〃Don't　hurt　him。　Don't　hurt　him。　You　may　regret　it　all　your　life　if　。　。　。〃

If　what？　He　didn't　know。　He　was　always　threatened　with　regretting　things　all　his　life。　The　blow　was　always　going　to　fall。　And　that　pleasant　very　British　phrase　came　back　to　him；　〃He　would　put　his　foot　down〃howeverhe　was　very　angryvery　angry。

He　burst　out：　〃Oh；　but　that's　absurd；　father。　Impossibleutterly。　Thurston　in　the　family？　Why；　you　must　see　yourself　how　monstrous　it　would　be。　Amy's　got　some　silly；　sentimental　whim　and　she's　got　to　be　told　that　it　won't　do。　If　you　ask　me；　I　don't　think　Amy's　improved　much　since　I　was　away。　But　that's　not　the　question。　The　idea　of　Thurston's　disgusting。　You　can't　seriously　consider　it　for　a　minute　。　。　。〃

〃Why　is　Thurston　disgusting；　my　boy？〃

Martin　hated　to　be　called　〃my　boy〃it　made　him　feel　so　young　and　dependent。

〃You've　only　got　to　look　at　him！〃　Martin　jumped　up；　disregarding　his　father's　hand；　and　began　to　stamp　about　the　room。　〃He's　a　cadhe's　not　your　friend；　father。　He　isn't；　really。　He'd　like　to　out　you　from　the　whole　thing　if　he　could。　He　thinks　you're　old…fashioned　and　behind　the　times；　and　all　he　thinks　about　is　bringing　in　subscriptions　and　collecting　new　converts。　He's　like　one　of　those　men　who　beat　drums　outside　tents　in　a　fair　。　。　。　He's　a　sickening　man！　He　doesn't　believe　in　his　religion　or　anything　else。　I　should　think　he's　crooked　about　money；　and　immoral　probably　too。　You're　much　too　innocent；　father。　You're　so　good　and　trustful　yourself　that　you　don't　know　how　these　fellows　are　doing　you　in。　There's　a　regular　plot　against　you　and　they'd　be　most　awfully　pleased　if　you　were　to　retire。　They're　not　genuine　like　you。　They　simply　use　the　Chapel　for　self…advertisement　and　making　money。　Of　course　there　are　some　genuine　ones　like　the　Miss　Cardinals；　but　Thurston's　an　absolute　swindler　。　。　。〃

He　stopped　short　at　that。　He　had　said　more　than　he　had　intended　and　he　was　frightened　suddenly。　He　swung　round　on　his　heel　and　looked　at　his　father。

〃Come　here；　Martin。〃　He　came　across　the　room。　〃Closer。　Now；　tell　me。　We're　good　friends；　aren't　we？〃

〃Of　course；　father。〃

He　put　his　hand　on　his　son's　shoulder。　〃Do　you　know　that　I　love　you　more　than　anything　in　the　whole　world？　More；　I'm　sometimes　terribly　afraid；　than　God　Himself。　I　can't　help　myself。　I　love　you；　Martin；　so　that　i