the captives-第39章

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ough　it　needed　oil。　Maggie；　as　she　looked　at　her；　did　not　need　to　be　told　that　she　did　not　believe　in　Mr。　Warlock's　mysticism。　She　came　across　and　shook　Maggie's　hand。　Her　touch　was　cold　and　stiff　and　a　little　damp　like　that　of　a　wet　stone。

〃Sorry　your　Aunt's　out；〃　she　said；　〃but　I　can　talk　to　you　for　a　while。〃　She　looked　at　Maggie　for　a　moment。　Then　she　said：

〃Why　don't　you　clear　out　of　all　this？〃

The　voice　was　so　abrupt　and　the　words　so　unexpected　that　Maggie　jumped。

〃Why　don't　I？〃　she　repeated。

〃Yes；　you；〃　said　Miss　Avies。　〃You've　no　place　here　in　all　this　business。　You　don't　believe　in　it；　do　you？〃

〃No；〃　said　Maggie。

〃And　you　don't　want　to　use　it　for　something　you　do　believe　in？〃

〃No；〃　said　Maggie。　〃Well　then；　clear　out。〃

Maggie；　colouring　a　little；　said：

〃My　aunts　have　been　very　good　to　me。　I　oughtn't　to　leave　them。〃

〃Fiddlesticks；〃　said　Miss　Avies。　〃Your　life's　your　own；　not　your　aunts'。〃

She　sat　down　and　stayed　bolt　upright　and　motionless　near　the　fire；　she　flung　a　thin　dark　shadow　like　a　stain　on　the　wall。　There　was　a　long　pause　between　them。　After　that　abrupt　opening　there　seemed　to　be　nothing　to　say。　Maggie's　thoughts　also　were　elsewhere。　She　was　wishing　now　passionately　that　she　had　not　given　that　note　to　Caroline。

Suddenly　Miss　Avies　said；　〃What　do　you　do　with　yourself　all　day？〃

Maggie　laughed。　〃Try　and　make　myself　less　careless；　Miss　Avies。〃

Miss　Avies　replied；　〃You'll　never　make　yourself　less　careless。　We　are　as　we　are。〃

〃But　don't　you　think；〃　said　Maggie；　〃that　one　can　cure　one's　faults？〃

〃One　gets　rid　of　one　only　to　make　room　for　another　。　。　。　But　that　doesn't　matter。　The　point　is　that　one　should　have　an　ambition。　What's　your　ambition；　child？〃

Maggie　didn't　answer。　Her　ambition　was　Martin；　but　she　couldn't　tell　Miss　Avies　so。

At　last；　after　a　long　pause；　as　Miss　Avies　still　seemed　to　be　waiting；　she　answered：

〃I　suppose　that　I　want　to　earn　my　livingto　be　independent。〃

〃Well；　leave　this　place　then；〃　said　Miss　Avies。　〃There's　no　independence　here。〃　Then　added；　as　though　to　herself。　〃They　think　they're　looking　for　the　face　of　God　。　。　。　It's　only　for　themselves　and　their　vanity　they're　looking。〃

Maggie　said；　to　break　another　of　the　long　pauses　that　seemed　to　be　always　forming　between　them：

〃I　think　every　one　ought　to　earn　their　own　living；　don't　you？〃

Miss　Avies　shook　her　head。　〃You're　very　youngterribly　young。　I've　got　no　advice　to　give　you　except　to　lead　a　healthy　life　somewhere　away　from　these　surroundings。　We're　an　unnatural　lot　here　and　you're　a　healthy　young　creature　。　。　。　Have　you　got　a　lover？〃

Maggie　smiled。　〃I've　got　a　friend；〃　she　said。　Miss　Avies　sighed。　〃That's　more　than　I've　got；〃　she　said。

〃Not　that　I've　time　for　one；〃　she　added。　She　got　up。　〃I　won't　wait　for　your　aunt；〃　she　said；　〃I've　left　a　note　downstairs　。　。　。　You　clear　out　as　soon　as　you　can；　that's　my　advice　to　you。〃

She　said　good…bye；　looking　into　Maggie's　clear　eyes。　She　was　suddenly　less　inhuman；　the　touch　of　her　hand　was　warmer。

〃Don't　you　cheat　yourself　into　believing　in　the　Deity；〃　she　said；　and　was　gone。

When　Friday　arrived　Maggie　had　not　seen　Caroline　again；　and　she　could　not　tell　whether　the　note　had　been　safely　delivered　or　no。　She　was　not　sure　what　she　had　better　do。　Caroline　might　hare　done　anything　with　the　note；　torn　it　up；　burnt　it；　lost　it；　forgotten　it　altogether。　Well；　that　was　a　risk　that　Maggie　must　take。　If　he　did　not　appear　she　would　wait　a　little　while　and　then　come　away。　They　must　soon　meet　in　any　case。　They　had　all　their　lives　before　them。

Aunt　Anne　was　up　againvery；　very　pale　now　and　so　thin　that　the　light　seemed　to　shine　through　her　making　her　more　of　a　stained　window　saint　than　ever。

Maggie　told　her　about　the　visit；　Aunt　Anne　looked　at　her　curiously。　She　seemed　so　weak　and　frail　that　Maggie　suddenly　felt　warm　maternal　love。　Rather　shyly　she　put　her　hand　upon　her　aunt's：　〃I　won't　go　away　until　you're　better〃

Aunt　Anne　nodded　her　head。

〃I　know　you　won't；　dear；〃　she　said。　〃Don't　be　out　late　to…day。　We　shall　be　anxious　about　you。〃

Maggie　had　made　a　promise　and　was　terrified　when　she　thought　of　it。　Suppose　her　aunt　did　not　get　better　for　years　and　years？

People　often　had　long　lingering　illnesses　with　no　apparent　change　in　their　condition。　To　Maggie　a　promise　was　an　utterly　final　thing。　She　could　not　dream　that　one　ever　broke　one's　word。　She　trembled　now　when　she　thought　of　what　she　had　done。　She　had　been　entrapped　after　all　and　by　her　own　free　will。

In　her　little　room　as　she　was　putting　on　her　hat　she　suddenly　prayed　to　a　God；　of　whom　she　knew　nothing；　that　her　aunt　might　get　better　soon。

She　started　out　on　her　great　adventure　with　a　strange　self…assurance　as　though　loving　Martin　had　given　her　the　wisdom　of　all　the　ages。

Turning　down　the　street　towards　the　Strand　she　found　almost　at　once　a　taxi…cab　drawn　up；　as　though　it　had　been　waiting　there　especially　for　her　like　an　eloping　coach　in　a　romantic　tale。　A　fat　red…faced　fellow　with　a　purple　nose；　a　cloth　cap　and　a　familiar　vague　eye；　as　though　he　always　saw　further　than　he　intended；　waited　patiently　for　her　to　speak。

Boldly；　as　though　she　had　done　such　things　all　her　life；　she　said；　〃Fourteen　Bryanston　Square。〃　Then　she　slipped　in　and　was　hidden　from　the　gay　world。　She　sat　there；　her　hands　on　her　lap　staring　at　the　three　crimson　rolls　in　the　neck　of　her　driver。　She　was　thinking　of　nothing；　nothing　at　all。　Did　she　struggle　to　think？　Only　words　would　come；　〃Martin；〃　or　〃Bryanston　Square；〃　or　〃cab；〃　again　and　again；　words　that　did　not　mean　anything　but　physical　sensations。　〃Martin〃　hot　fire　at　the　throat；　〃Bryanston　Square〃　an　iron　rod　down　the　spine；　and　〃cab〃　dust　and　ashes　in　the　eyes。

She　tried　to　look　at　herself　in　the　little　mirror　opposite　her；　but　she　could　only　catch　the　corner　of　her　cheek　and　half　her　hat。　But　she　minded　less　about　her　appearance　now。　If　Martin　could　love　her　it　did　not　matter　what　others　thoughtnevertheless　she　pulled　her　hat　about　a　little　and　patted　her　dress。　The　cab　stopped　and　she　felt　desperately　lonely。　Did　any　one　care　about　her　anywhere？　No；　no　one。　She　could　have　cried　with　pity　at　the　thought　of　her　own　loneliness。

〃One　and　sixpence；　Miss；〃　said　the　cabman　in　so　husky　a　voice。

She　gave　it　to　him。

〃What's　this？〃　he　asked；　looking　at　it。

〃One　and　sixpence；〃　she　answered　timidly；　wondering　at　his　sarcastic　eye。

〃Oh　well；　o'　course；〃　he　said；　looking　her　all　over。

She　knew　instinctively　that　he　demanded　more。　She　found　another　sixpence。　〃Is　that　enough？〃　she　asked。

He　seemed　ashamed。

〃If　I　'adn't　a　wife　sick〃　he　began。

She　ran　up　the　high　stone　steps　and　rang　a　bell。　The　episode　with　the　driver　had　disturbed　her　terribly。　It　had　shown　in　what　a　foreign　world　she　was。　All　her　self…confidence　was　gone。　She　had　to　take　a　pull　at　herself　and　say：　〃Why；　Maggie；　you　might　be　ringing　the　dentist's　bell　at　this　moment。〃

That　helped　her；　and　then　the　thought　of　Martin。　She　saw　his　boyish　smile　and　felt　the　warm　touch　of　his　rough　hand。　When　the　maid　was　there　instead　of　the　green　door；　she　almost　said：　〃Is　Martin　in？〃

But　she　behaved　very　well。

〃Mrs。　Mark？〃　she　said　in　precisely　the　voice　required。

The　maid　smiled　and　stood　aside。　And　then　into　what　a　world　she　entered！　A　world　of　comfort　and　reassurance；　of　homeliness　and　kindliness；　without　parrots　and　fierce…eyed　cats　and　swaying　pictures　of　armoured　mena　world　of　urbanity　and　light　and　space。　There　was　a　high　white　staircase　with　brown　etchings　in　dark　frames　on　the　white　walls。　There　was　a　thick　soft　carpet　and　a　friendly　fat　grandfather　clock。　Many　doors　but　none　of　them　mysterious；　all　ready　to　be　opened。

She　climbed　the　staircase　and　was　shown　into　a　room　high　and　gaily　coloured　and　full　of　flowers。　She　saw　the　deep　curtains；　blue　silk　shot　with　purple；　the　chairs　of　blue　silk　and　a　bowl　of　soft　amber　light　hanging　from　the　ceiling。　A　mass　of　gold…red　chrysanthemums　flamed　against　the　curtains。　Several　people　were　gathered　round　a　tea…table　near　the　fire。

She　stood　lost　on　the　thick　purple　carpet　under　the　amber　light；　all　too　brilliant　for　her。　She　had　come　from　a　world　of　darkness；　owl…　like　she　must　blink　before　the　blaze。　Some　one　came　forward　to　her；　some　one　so　kind　and　comforting；　so　easy　and　unsurprised　that　Maggie　suddenly　felt　herself　steadied　as　though　a　friend　had　put　an　arm　around　her。　Before　she　had　felt：　〃This　lightI　am　shabby。〃　Now　she　felt；　〃I　am　with　friendly　people。〃　She　was　surprised　at　the　way　that　she　was　suddenly　at　her　ease。

Mrs。　Mark　was　not　beautiful；　but　she　had　soft　liquid　eyes　and　her　hand　that　held　Maggie's　was　firm　and　warm　and　strong。

〃Let　me　introduce　you；〃　said　Mrs。　Mark。　〃That　is　Miss　Trenchard；　and　that　Mr。　Trenchard。　This　is　my　husband。　Philip；　this　is　Miss　Cardinal。〃

Miss　Trenchard　must　be　forty；　Maggie　thought。　She　was　plump　and　thick…set；　with　a　warm　smile。　Then　Mr。　Trenchard　was　a　clergymanhe　would　be　stout　were　he　not　so　broad。　His　face　was　red；　his　hair　snowy　white；　but　he　did　not　look　old。

He　smiled　at　Maggie　as　though　he　had　known　her　all　his　life。　Then　there　was　Mr。　Mark；　who　was　stocky　and　thick；　and　reminded　Maggie　of　Martin；　although　his　face　was　quite　different；　he　looked　much　cleverer　and　not　such　a　boy；　he　was　not；　in　fact；　a　boy　at　all。　〃I'm　sure　he　thinks　too　hard；〃　decided　Maggie；　who　had　habits　of　making　up　her　mind　at　once　about　people。

〃Well；　there's　no　one　to　be　frightened　about　here；〃　she　decided。　And　indeed　there　was　not！　It　was　as　though　they　had　all　some　especial　reason　for　being　nice　to　her。　Perhaps　they　saw　that　she　was　not　in　her　own　world　here。　And　yet　they　did　not　make　her　feel　that。　She　drank　in　the　differences　with　great　gulps　of　appreciation；　but　it　was　not　they　who　insisted。

Here　were　light　and　colour　and　space　above　allrest。　Nothing　was　about　to　happen；　no　threat　over　their　heads　that　the　roof　would　fall　beneath　one's　feet；　that　the　floor　would　sink。　No　sudden　catching　of　the　breath　at　the　opening　of　a　door；　no　hesitation　about　climbing　the　stairs；　no　surveillance　by　the　watching　Thomas；　no　distant　clanging　of　the　Chapel　bell。　How　strange　they　all　seemed；　looking　back　from　this　safe　harbour。　The　aunts；　the　Warlocks；　Thurston；　Mr。　Crashaw；　Carolineall　of　them。　There　the　imagination　set　fire　to　every　twighere　the　imagination　was　not　needed；　because　everything　occurred　before　your　eyes。

She　did　not　figure　it　all　out　in　so　many　words　at　once；　but　the　contrast　of　the　two　worlds　was　there　nevertheless。　Why　had　she　been　so　anxious；　so　nervous；　so　distressed？　There　was　no　need。　Had　she　not　known　that　this　other　world　existed？　Perhaps　she　had　not。　She　must　never　again　forget　it　。　。　。

Katherine　Mark　was　so　kind　and　friendly；　her　voice　so　soft　and　her　interest　so　eager；　that　Maggie　felt　that　she　could　tell　her　anything。　But　their　talk　was　not　to　come　just　yetfirst　there　must　be　general　conversation。

The　clergyman　with　the　white　hair　and　the　rosy　face　laughed　a　great　deal　in　a　schoolboy　kind　of　way；　and　every　time　that　he　laughed　his　sister；　who　was　like　a　pippin　apple　with　her　sunburnt　cheeks；　looked　at　him　with　protecting　eyes。

〃She　looks　after　him　in　everything；〃　said　Maggie　to　herself。　He　was　called　Paul　by　them　all。

〃He's　my　cousin；　you　know；　Miss　Card