the captives-第48章

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ery　day　and　even　hour　of　their　sudden　slavery；　at　such　a　tick　of　the　clock　the　clouds　gather；　the　very　houses　and　street　are　weighted　with　a　cold　malignity；　thoughts；　desires；　impulses　are　all　checked；　perverted；　driven　and　counter…　driven　by　a　mysterious　force。　Let　no　man　who　has　not　known　such　hours　and　the　terror　of　such　a　dominion　utter　judgment　upon　his　neighbour。

To　Martin　the　threat　of　this　conflict　with　his　father　over　Maggie　was　the　one　crisis　that　he　had　wished　to　avoid。　But　his　character；　which　was　naturally　easy　and　friendly　and　unsuspicious；　had　confused　him。　Those　three　weeks　with　Maggie　had　been　so　happy；　so　free　from　all　morbidity　and　complication；　that　he　had　forgotten　the　world　outside。　For　a　moment　when　Maggie　had　told　him　that　she　had　given　her　note　to　Caroline　he　had　been　afraid；　but　he　had　been　lulled　as　the　days　passed　and　nothing　interfered　with　their　security。　Now　he　was　suddenly　plunged　into　the　middle　of　a　confusion　that　was　all　the　more　complicated　because　he　could　not　tell　what　his　mother　and　his；　sister　were　thinking。　He　knew　that　Amy　had　disliked　him　ever　since　his　return；　and　that　that　dislike　had　been　changed　into　something　fiercer　since　his　declared　opposition　to　Thurston。　His　mother　he　simply　did　not　understand　at　all。　She　spoke　to　him　still　with　the　same　affection　and　tenderness；　but　behind　the　words　he　felt　a　hard　purpose　and　a　mysterious　aloofness。

She　was　not　like　his　mother　at　all；　it　was　as　though　some　spy　had　been　introduced　into　the　house　in　his　mother's　clothing。

But　for　them　he　did　not　care；　it　was　his　father　of　whom　he　must　think。　Here；　too；　there　was　a　mystery　from　which　he　was　deliberately　kept。　He　knew；　of　course；　that　they　were　all　expecting　some　crisis；　as　the　days　advanced　he　could　feel　that　the　excitement　increased。　He　knew　that　his　father　had　declared　that　he　had　visions　and　that　there　was　to　be　a　revelation　very　shortly；　but　of　these　visions　and　this　revelation　he　heard　only　indirectly　from　others。　His　father　said　nothing　to　him　of　these　things；　and　at　the　ordinary　Chapel　services　on　Sunday　there　was　no　allusion　to　them。　He　knew　that　the　Inside　Saints　had　a　society　and　rules　of　their　own　inside　the　larger　body；　and　from　that　inner　society　he　was　quite　definitely　excluded。　Of　that　exclusion　he　would　have　been　only　too　glad　had　it　not　been　for　his　father；　but　now　when　he　saw　him　growing　from　day　to　day　more　haggard　and　worn；　more　aloof　from　all　human　society；　when　lie　saw　him　wrapped　further　and　further　into　some　strange　and　as　it　seemed　to　him　insane　absorption；　he　was　determined　to　fight　his　way　into　the　heart　of　it。　His　growing　intimacy　with　Maggie　had　relieved　him；　for　a　moment；　of　the　intensity　of　this　other　anxiety。　Now　suddenly　he　was　flung　back　into　the　very　thick　of　it。　His　earlier　plan　of　forcing　his　father　out　of　all　this　network　of　chicanery　and　charlatanism　now　returned。　He　felt　that　if　he　could　only　seize　his　father　and　forcibly　abduct　him　and　take　him　away　from　Amy　and　Thurston　and　the　rest；　and　all　the　associations　of　the　Chapel；　he　might　cure　him　and　lead　him　back　to　health　and　happiness　again。

And　yet　he　did　not　know。　He　had　not　himself　escaped　from　it　all　by　leaving　it；　and　then　that　undermining　bewildering　suspicion　that　perhaps　after　all　there　was　something　in　all　of　this；　that　it　was　not　only　charlatanism；　confused　and　disconcerted　him。　He　was　like　a　man　who　hears　sounds　and　faint　cries　behind　a　thick　wall；　and　there　are　no　doors　and　windows；　and　the　bricks　are　too　stout　to　be　torn　apart。

He　had　been　behind　that　wall　all　his　life　。　。　。

Amy's　allusion　to　Maggie　in　the　morning　had　been　very　slight；　but　had　shown　quite　clearly　that　she　had　heard　all；　and　probably　more；　than　the　truth。　When　he　returned　that　morning　he　found　his　mother　alone；　knitting　a　pink　woollen　comforter；　her　gold　spectacles　on　the　end　of　her　nose；　her　fresh　lace　cap　crisp　and　dainty　on　her　white　hairthe　very　picture　of　the　dearest　old　lady　in　the　world。

〃Mother；〃　he　began　at　once；　〃what　did　Amy　mean　this　morning　about　myself　and　Maggie　Cardinal？〃

〃Maggie　who；　dear？〃　his　mother　asked。

〃Maggie　Cardinalthe　Cardinal　niece；　you　know；〃　he　said　impatiently。

〃Did　she　say　anything？　I　don't　remember。〃

〃Yes；　mother。　You　remember　perfectly　well。　She　said　that　they　were　all　talking　about　me　and　Maggie。〃

〃Did　she？〃　The　old　lady　slowly　counted　her　stitches。　〃Well；　dear；　I　shouldn't　worry　about　what　they　all　saywhoever　'they'　may　be。〃

〃Oh；　I　don't　care　for　that；〃　he　answered　contemptuously；　〃although　all　the　same　I'm　not　going　to　have　Amy　running　that　girl　down。　She's　been　against　her　from　the　first。　What　I　want　to　know　is　has　Amy　been　to　father　with　this？　Because　if　she　has　I'm　going　to　stop　it。　I'm　not　going　to　have　her　bothering　father　with　bits　of　gossip　that　she's　picked　up　by　listening　behind　other　peoples'　key…holes。〃

Amy；　meanwhile；　had　come　in　and　heard　this　last　sentence。

〃Thank　you；　Martin；〃　she　said　quietly。

He　turned　to　her　with　fury。　〃What　did　you　mean　at　breakfast；〃　he　asked；　〃by　what　you　said　about　myself　and　Maggie　Cardinal？〃

She　looked　at　him　with　contempt　but　no　very　active　hostility。

〃I　was　simply　telling　you　something　that　I　thought　you　ought　to　know；〃　she　said。　〃It　is　what　everybody　is　sayingthat　you　and　she　have　been　meeting　every　day　for　weeks；　sitting　in　the　Park　after　dark　together；　going　to　the　theatre。　People　draw　their　own　conclusions；　I　suppose。〃

〃How　much　have　you　told　father　of　this？〃　he　demanded。

〃I　don't　know　at　all　what　father　has　heard；〃　she　answered。

〃You've　been　that　girl's　enemy　since　the　first　moment　that　she　came　here；〃　he　continued；　growing　angrier　and　angrier　at　her　quiet　indifference。　〃Now　you're　trying　to　damage　her　character。〃

〃On　the　contrary；〃　she　answered；　〃I　told　you　because　I　thought　you　ought　to　know　what　people　were　saying。　The　girl　doesn't　matter　to　me　one　way　or　anotherbut　I'm　sorry　for　her　if　she　thinks　she　cares　for　you。　That　won't　bring　her　much　happiness。〃

Then　suddenly　her　impassivity　had　a　strange　effect　upon　him。　He　could　not　answer　her。　He　left　them　both；　and　went　up　to　his　room。

As　soon　as　he　had　closed　the　door　of　his　bedroom　he　knew　that　his　bad　time　was　come　upon　him。　It　was　a　physical　as　well　as　a　spiritual　dominion。　The　room　visibly　darkened　before　his　eyes；　his　brain　worked　as　it　would　in　dreams　suggesting　its　own　thoughts　and　wishes　and　intentions。　A　dark　shadow　hung　over　him；　hands　were　placed　upon　his　eyes；　only　one　thought　came　before　him　again　and　again　and　again。　〃You　know；　you　have　long　known；　that　you　are　doomed　to　make　miserable　everything　that　you　touch；　to　ruin　every　one　with　whom　you　come　in　contact。　That　is　your　fate；　and　you　can　no　more　escape　from　it　than　you　can　escape　from　your　body！〃

How　many　hours　of　this　kind　he　had　known　in　Spain；　in　France；　in　South　America。　Often　at　the　very　moment　when　he　had　thought　that　he　was　at　last　settling　down　to　some　decent　steady　plan　of　life　he　would　be　jerked　from　his　purpose；　some　delay　or　failure　would　frustrate　him；　and　there　would　follow　the　voice　in　his　ear　and　the　hands　on　his　eyes。

It　was　indeed　as　though　he　had　been　pledged　to　something　in　his　early　life；　and　because　he　had　broken　from　that　pledge　had　been　pursued　ever　since　。　。　。

He　stripped　to　the　waist　and　bathed　in　cold　water；　even　then　it　seemed　to　him　that　his　flesh　was　heavy　and　dull　and　yellow；　that　he　was　growing　obese　and　out　of　all　condition。　He　put　on　a　clean　shirt　and　collar；　sat　down　on　his　bed　and　tried　to　think　the　thing　out。　To　whomsoever　he　had　done　harm　in　the　past　he　would　now　spare　Maggie　and　his　father。　He　was　surprised　at　the　rush　of　tenderness　that　came　over　him　at　the　thought　of　Maggie；　he　sat　there　for　some　time　thinking　over　every　incident　of　the　last　three　weeks；　that；　at　least；　had　been　a　good　decent　time；　and　no　one　could　ever　take　it　away　from　them　again。　He　looked　at　her　picture　in　the　locket　and　realised；　as　he　looked　at　it；　a　link　with　her　that　he　had　never　felt　with　any　woman　before。　〃All　the　same；〃　he　thought；　〃I　should　go　away。　She'd　mind　it　at　first；　but　not　half　as　much　as　she'd　mind　me　later　on　when　she　saw　what　kind　of　a　chap　I　really　was。　She'd　be　unhappy　for　a　bit；　but　she'd　soon　meet　some　one　else。　She's　never　seen　a　man　yet　except　me。　She'd　soon　forget　me。　She's　such　a　kid。〃

Nevertheless　when　he　thought　of　beginning　that　old　wandering　life　again　he　shrank　back。　He　had　hated　itOh！　how　he'd　hated　it！　And　he　didn't　want　to　leave　Maggie。　He　was　in　reality　beginning　to　believe　that　with　her　he　might　pull　himself　right　out　of　this　morass　of　weakness　and　indecision　in　which　he　had　been　wallowing　for　years。　And　yet　what　sort　of　a　life　could　he　offer　her？　He　did　not　believe　that　he　would　ever　now　be　able　to　find　this　other　woman　whom　he　had　married；　and　until　he　had　found　her　and　divorced　her　Maggie's　position　would　be　impossible。　She；　knowing　nothing　of　the　world；　could　disregard　it；　but　HE　knew；　knew　that　daily；　hourly　recurrence　of　alights　and　insults　and　disappointments；　knew　what　that　life　could　make　after　a　time　of　women　in　such　a　position；　even　though　she　did　not　mind　he　would　mind　for　her　and　would　reproach　himself　continually。

No；　it　was　impossible。　He　must　go　away　secretly；　without　telling　her　。　。　。　Then；　at　that；　he　was　pulled　up　again　by　the　thought　of　his　father。　He　could　not　leave　him　until　this　crisis；　whatever　it　might　be；　was　over。　A　very　little　thing　now　might　kill　him；　and　at　the　thought　of　that　possibility　he　jumped　up　from　his　bed　and　swore　that　THAT　catastrophe　at　least　must　be　prevented。　His　father　must　live　and　be　happy　and　strong　again；　and　he；　Martin；　must　see　to　it。

That　was　his　charge　and　his　sacred　duty　above　all　else。

Strong　in　this　thought　he　went　down　to　his　father's　room。　He　knocked　on　the　door。　There　was　no　answer；　and　he　went　in。　The　room　was　in　a　mess　of　untidiness。　His　father　was　walking　up　and　down；　staring　in　front　of　him；　talking　to　himself。

At　the　sound　of　the　door　he　turned；　saw　Martin　and　smiled；　the　old　trusting　smile　of　a　child；　that　had　been；　during　his　time　abroad；　Martin's　clearest　memory　of　him。

〃Oh；　is　that　you？　Come　in。〃

Martin　came　forward　and　his　father　put　his　arm　round　his　neck　as　though　for　support。

〃I'm　tiredhorribly　tired。〃　Martin　took　him　to　the　shabby　broken　arm…chair　and　made　him　sit　down。　Himself　sat　in　his　old　place　on　the　arm　of　the　chair；　his　hand　against　his　father's　neck。

〃Father；　come　awayjust　for　a　weekwith　me。　We'll　go　right　off　into　the　country　to　Glebeshire　or　somewhere；　quite　alone。　We　won't　see　a　soul。　We'll　just　walk　and　eat　and　sleep。　And　then　you'll　come　back　to　your　work　here　another　man。〃

〃No；　Martin。　I　can't　yet。　Not　just　now。〃

〃Why　not；　father？〃

〃I　have　work；　work　that　can't　be　left。〃

〃But　if　you　go　on　like　this　you'll　be　so　that　you　can't　go　on　any　longer。　You'll　break　down。　You　know　what　the　doctor　said　about　your　heart。　You　aren't　taking　any　care　at　all。〃

〃Perhaps　。　。　。　perhaps　。　。　。　but　for　a　week　or　two　I　must　just　go　on；　preparing　。　。　。　many　things　。　。　。　Martin。〃

He　suddenly　looked　up　at　his　son；　putting　his　hand　on　his　knee。

〃Yes；　father。〃

〃You're　being　good　now；　aren't　you？〃

〃Good；　father？〃

〃Yes　。　。　。　Not　doing　anything　you　or　I'd　be　ashamed　of。　I　know　in　the　past　。　。　。　but　that's　been