the captives-第7章

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marble　clock；　the　letter　clip　with　old　soiled　letters　in　it；　the　fat　green　vase　with　dusty　everlastings。　Just　as　on　the　night　when　her　uncle　had　come　into　her　room　she　had　fancied　that　some　one　spoke　to　her；　so　now　she　seemed　to　hear：

〃Ah；　that's　a　nasty　knock　for　youa　very　nasty　knock。〃

Her　father　had　left　all　his　money；　with　the　exception　of　300；　Pounds　Sterling　to　Ellen　the　cook；　Maggie　did　not；　for　a　moment；　speculate　as　to　the　probable　total　amount。　Three　hundred　pounds　seemed　to　her　a　very　large　sumit　would　at　any　rate　give　her　something　to　begin　life　uponbut　the　thing　that　seized　and　held　her　was　the　secret　friendship　that　must　have　existed　between　her　father　and　Ellen　secret　friendship　was　the　first　form　that　the　relationship　assumed　for　her。　She　saw　Ellen；　red　of　face　with　little　eyes　and　a　flat　nose　upon　which　flies　used　to　settle；　a　fat；　short　neck；　the　wheezings　and　the　pantings；　the　stumping　walk；　the　great　broad　back。　And　she　saw　her　fatherfirst　as　the　tall；　dirty　man　whom　she　used　to　know；　with　the　shiny　black　trousers；　the　untidy　beard；　the　frowning　eyes；　the　nails　bitten　to　the　quick；　the　ragged　shirt…cuffsthen　as　that　veiled　shape　below　the　clothes；　the　lift　of　the　sheet　above　the　toes；　the　loins；　the　stomach；　the　beard　neatly　brushed；　the　closed　yellow　eyelids；　the　yellow　forehead；　the　rats　with　their　gleaming　eyes。　In　a　kind　of　terror　as　though　she　were　being　led　against　her　will　into　some　disgusting　chamber　where　the　skulls　were　stale　and　the　sights　indecent；　she　saw　the　friendship　of　those　twoEllen　the　cook　and　her　father。

Young；　inexperienced　though　she　was；　she　was　old　already　in　a　certain　crude　knowledge　of　facts。　It　could　not　be　said　that　she　traced　to　their　ultimate　hiding…place　the　relations　of　her　father　and　the　woman；　but　in　some　relation；　ugly；　sordid；　degraded；　she　saw　those　two　figures　united。　Many；　many　little　things　came　to　her　mind　as　she　sat　there；　moments　when　the　cook　had　breathlessly　and　in　a　sudden　heat　betrayed　some　unexpected　agitation；　moments　when　her　father　had　shown　confusion；　moments　when　she　had　fancied　whispers；　laughter　behind　walls；　scurrying　feet。　She　entwined　desperately　her　hands　together　as　pictures　developed　behind　her　eyes。

Ah！　but　she　was　ashamed；　most　bitterly　ashamed！

The　rest　of　the　interview　came　to　her　only　dimly。　She　knew　that　Uncle　Mathew　was　still　upon　his　feet　protesting；　that　her　aunt's　face　was　cold　and　wore　a　look　of　distressed　surprise　as　though　some　one　had　suddenly　been　rude　to　her。

From　very；　very　far　away　came　Mr。　Brassy's　voice：　〃I　was　aware　that　this　could　not　be　agreeable；　Miss　Cardinal。　But　I　am　afraid　that；　under　the　circumstances；　there　is　nothing　to　be　done。　As　to　undue　influence　I　think　that　I　should　warn　you；　Mr。　Cardinal；　that　there　could　be　very　little　hope　。　。　。　and　of　course　the　expense　。　。　。　if　I　may　advise　you　。　。　。〃

The　voice　sank　away　again；　the　room　faded；　the　air　was　still　and　painted；　like　figures　on　a　stage　acting　before　an　audience　of　one　Maggie　saw　those　grotesque　persons　。　。　。

She　did　not　speak　one　word　during　the　whole　affair。

After　a　time　she　saw　that　Mr。　Brassy　was　not　in　the　room。　Her　aunt　was　speaking　to　her：

〃Maggie；　dearI'm　so　very　sorryso　very　sorry。　But　you　know　that　you　will　come　to　us　and　find　a　home　there。　You　mustn't　think　about　the　money〃

With　a　sudden　impulse　she　arose；　almost　brushing　her　aunt　aside。

〃Ah！　that's　not　itthat's　not　it！〃　she　cried。　Then；　recovering　herself　a　little；　she　went　on〃It's　all　right；　Aunt　Anne。　I'm　all　right。　I'm　going　out　for　a　little。　If　I'm　not　back　for　lunch；　don't　wait。　Something　cold；　anything；　tell　Ellen〃

At　the　sudden　mention　of　that　name　she　stopped；　coloured　a　little；　turned　away　and　left　the　room。　In　the　hall　she　nearly　ran　against　the　cook。　The　woman　was　standing　there；　motionless；　breathing　deeply；　her　eyes　fixed　upon　the　dining…room。　When　she　saw　Maggie；　she　moved　as　though　she　would　speak；　then　something　in　the　girl's　face　checked　her。　She　drew　back　into　the　shadow。

Maggie　left　the　house。

The　brother　and　sister；　remaining　in　the　room；　walked　towards　one　another　as　though　driven　by　some　common　need　of　sympathy　and　protection　against　an　outside　power。　Mathew　Cardinal　felt　a　genuine　indignation　that　had　but　seldom　figured　in　his　life　before。　He　had　hated　his　brother；　always；　and　never　so　greatly　as　at　the　moments　of　the　man's　reluctant　charity　towards　him。　But　now；　in　the　first　clean　uplift　of　his　indignation；　there　was　no　self…congratulation　at　the　justification　of　his　prophecies。

〃I　knew　him　for　what　he　was。　But　that　he　could　do　this！　He　meant　it　to　hurt；　toothat　was　like　him　all　over。　He　had　us　in　his　mind。　I　wish　I'd　never　taken　a　penny　from　him。　I'd　rather　have　starved。　Yes；　I　wouldfar　rather。　I've　been　bad　enough；　but　never　a　thing　like　that〃

His　sister　said　quietly：

〃He's　dead；　Mathew。　We　can　do　nothing。　Maggie；　poor　child　。　。　。〃

He　approached　for　an　instant　more　nearly　than　he　had　ever　done。　He　took　her　hand。　There　were　tears　in　his　eyes。

〃It's　good　of　you；　Anneto　take　her。〃

She　withdrew　her　handvery　gently。

〃I　wish　we'd　taken　her　before。　She　must　have　had　a　terrible　time　here。　I'd　never　realised　。　。　。〃

He　stood　away　from　her　near　the　window；　feeling　suddenly　ashamed　of　his　impetuosity。

〃She's　a　strange　girl；〃　Anne　Cardinal　went　on。　〃She　didn't　seem　to　feel　this；or　anything。　She　hasn't；　I　think；　much　heart。　I'm　afraid　she　may　find　it　a　little　difficult　with　us〃

Mathew　was　uncomfortable　now。　His　mood　had　changed；　he　was　sullen。　His　sister　always　made　him　feel　like　a　disgraced　dog。　He　shuffled　on　his　feet。

〃She's　a　good　girl；〃　he　muttered　at　last；　and　then　with　a　confused　look　about　him；　as　though　he　were　searching　for　something；　he　stumbled　out　of　the　room。

Meanwhile　Maggie　went　on　her　way。　She　chose　instinctively　her　path；　through　the　kitchen　garden　at　the　back　of　the　village；　down　the　hill　by　the　village　street；　over　the　little　bridge　that　crossed　the　rocky　stream　of　the　Dreot；　and　up　the　steep　hill　that　led　on　to　the　outskirts　of　Rothin　Moor。　The　day；　although　she　had　no　eyes　for　it；　was　one　of　those　sudden　impulses　of　misty　warmth　that　surprise　the　Glebeshire　frosts。　The　long　stretch　of　the　moor　was　enwrapped　by　a　thin　silver　network　of　haze；　the　warmth　of　the　sun；　seen　so　dimly　that　it　was　like　a　shadow　reflected　in　a　mirror；　struck　to　the　very　heart　of　the　soil。　Where　but　yesterday　there　had　been　iron　frost　there　was　now　soft　yielding　earth；　it　was　as　though　the　heat　of　the　central　fires　of　the　world　pressed　dimly　upward　through　many　miles　of　heavy　weighted　resistance；　straining　to　the　light　and　air。　Larks；　lost　in　golden　mist；　circled　in　space；　Maggie　could　feel　upon　her　face　and　neck　and　hands　the　warm　moisture；　the　soil　under　her　feet；　now　hard；　now　soft；　seemed　to　tremble　with　some　happy　anticipation；　the　moor；　wrapped　in　its　misty　colour；　had　no　bounds；　the　world　was　limitless　space　with　hidden　streams；　hidden　suns。

The　moor　had　a　pathetic　attraction　for　her；　because　not　very　long　ago　a　man　and　a　woman　had　been　lost；　only　a　few　steps　from　Borhedden　Farm；　in　the　mistlost　their　way　and　been　frozen　during　the　night。　Poor　things！　lovers；　perhaps；　they　had　been。

Maggie　felt　that　here　she　could　walk　for　miles　and　miles　and　that　there　was　nothing　to　stop　her；　the　clang　of　a　gate；　a　house；　a　wall；　a　human　voice　was　intolerable　to　her。

Her　first　thought　as　she　went　forward　was　disgust　at　her　own　weakness；　once　again　she　had　been　betrayed　by　her　feelings。　She　could　remember　no　single　time　when　they　had　not　betrayed　her。　She　recalled　now　with　an　intolerable　self…contempt　her　thoughts　of　her　father　at　the　time　of　the　funeral　and　the　hours　that　followed。　It　seemed　to　her　now　that　she　had　only　softened　towards　his　memory　because　she　had　believed　that　he　had　left　her　moneyand　now；　when　she　saw　that　he　had　treated　her　contemptuously；　she　found　him　once　again　the　cruel；　mean　figure　that　she　had　before　thought　him。

For　that　she　most　bitterly；　with　an　intensity　that　only　her　loneliness　could　have　given　her；　despised　herself。　And　yet　something　else　in　her　knew　that　that　reproach　was　not　a　true　one。　She　had　really　softened　towards　him　only　because　she　had　felt　that　she　had　behaved　badly　towards　him；　and　the　discovery　now　that　he　had　behaved　badly　towards　her　did　not　alter　her　own　original　behaviour。　She　did　not　analyse　all　this；　she　only　knew　that　there　were　in　her　longings　for　affection；　a　desire　to　be　loved；　an　aching　for　companionship；　and　that　these　things　must　always　be　kept　down；　fast　hidden　within　her。　She　realised　her　loneliness　now　with　a　fierce；　proud；　almost　exultant　independence。　No　more　tears；　no　more　leaning　upon　others；　no　more　expecting　anything　from　anybody。　She　was　not　dramatic　in　her　new　independence；　she　did　not　cry　defiance　to　the　golden　mist　or　the　larks　or　the　hidden　sun；　she　only　walked　on　and　on；　stumping　forward　in　her　clumsy　boots；　her　eyes　hard　and　unseeing；　her　hands　clasped　behind　her　back。

Her　expectation　of　happiness　in　her　opening　life　that　had　been　so　strong　with　her　that　other　day　when　she　had　looked　down　upon　Polchester　was　gone。　She　expected　nothing；　she　wanted　nothing。　Her　only　thought　was　that　she　would　never　yield　to　any　one；　never　care　for　any　one；　never　give　to　any　one　the　opportunity　of　touching　her。　At　moments　through　the　mist　came　the　figure　of　the　cook；　stout；　florid；　triumphant。　Maggie　regarded　her　contemptuously。　〃You　cannot　touch　me；〃　she　thought。　Of　her　father　she　would　never　think　again。　With　both　hands　she　flung　all　her　memories　of　him　into　the　mist　to　be　lost　for　ever　。　。　。

She　came　suddenly　upon　a　lonely　farm…house。　She　knew　the　place；　Borhedden；　it　had　often　been　a　favourite　walk　of　hers　from　the　Vicarage　to　Borhedden。　The　farmer　let　rooms　there　and；　because　the　house　was　very　old；　some　of　the　rooms　were　fine；　with　high　ceilings；　thick　stone　walls；　and　even　some　good　panelling。　The　view　too　was　superb；　across　to　the　Broads　and　the　Molecatcher；　or　back　to　the　Dreot　Woods；　or　to　the　dim　towers　of　Polchester　Cathedral。　The　air　here　was　fineone　of　the　healthiest　spots　in　Glebeshire。

The　farm　to…day　was　transfigured　by　the　misty　glow；　cows　and　horses　could　be　faintly　seen；　ricks　burnt　with　a　dim　fire。　Somewhere　dripping　water　falling　on　to　stone　gave　a　vocal　spirit　to　the　obscurity。　The　warm　air　seemed　to　radiate　about　the　house　like　a　flame　that　is　obscured　by　sunlight。

The　stealthy　movements　of　the　animals；　the　dripping　of　the　water；　were　the　only　sounds。　To　Maggie　the　house　seemed　to　say　something；　something　comforting　and　reassuring。

Standing　there；　she　registered　her　vow　that　through　all　her　life　she　would　care　for　no　one。　No　one　should　touch　her。

Had　there　been　an　observer　he　might　have　found　some　food　for　his　irony　in　the　contemplation　of　that　small；　insignificant　figure　so　ignorant　of　life　and　so　defiant　of　it。　He　would　have　found　perhaps　something　pathetic　also。　Maggie　thought　neither　of　irony　nor　of　pathos；　but　turned　homewards　with　her　mouth　set；　her　eyes　grave；　her　heart　controlled。

As　she　walked　back　the　sun　broke　through　the　mist；　and；　turning；　she　could　see　Borhedden　like　a　house　on　fire；　its　windows　blazing　against　the　sky。

It　was　natural　that　her　aunt　should　wish　to　return　to　London　as　soon　as　possible。　For　one　thing；　El