the white people-第7章

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en　I　was　Out　on　the　Hillside。　　That　is　what　I　call　The　Dream　to　myself；　‘Out　on　the　Hillside；'　as　if　it　were　a　kind　of　unearthly　poem。　　But　it　wasn't。　　It　was　more　real　than　anything　I　have　ever　felt。　　It　was　realreal！　　I　wish　that　I　could　tell　it　so　that　you　would　know　how　real　it　was。〃

I　felt　almost　piteous　in　my　longing　to　make　her　know。　　I　knew　she　was　afraid　of　something；　and　if　I　could　make　her　know　how　REAL　that　one　brief　dream　had　been　she　would　not　be　afraid　any　more。　　And　I　loved　her；　I　loved　her　so　much！

〃I　was　asleep　one　night　at　Muircarrie；〃　I　went　on；　〃and　suddenly；　without　any　preparatory　dreaming；　I　was　standing　out　on　a　hillside　in　moonlight　softer　and　more　exquisite　than　I　had　ever　seen　or　known　before。　　Perhaps　I　was　still　in　my　nightgownI　don't　know。　　My　feet　were　bare　on　the　grass；　and　I　wore　something　light　and　white　which　did　not　seem　to　touch　me。　　If　it　touched　me　I　did　not　feel　it。　　My　bare　feet　did　not　feel　the　grass；　they　only　knew　it　was　beneath　them。

〃It　was　a　low　hill　I　stood　on；　and　I　was　only　on　the　side　of　it。　　And　in　spite　of　the　thrilling　beauty　of　the　moon；　all　but　the　part　I　stood　on　melted　into　soft；　beautiful　shadow；　all　below　me　and　above　me。　　But　I　did　not　turn　to　look　at　or　ask　myself　about　anything。　　You　see　the　difficulty　is　that　there　are　no　earthly　words　to　tell　it！　　All　my　being　was　ecstasypure；　light　ecstasy！　　Oh；　what　poor　words　　But　I　know　no　others。　　If　I　said　that　I　was　happyHAPPY！　it　would　be　nothing。　　I　WAS　happiness　itself；　I　WAS　pure　rapture！　　I　did　not　look　at　the　beauty　of　the　night；　the　sky；　the　marvelous　melting　shadow。　　I　was　PART　of　it　all；　one　with　it。　　Nothing　held　me　nothing！　　The　beauty　of　the　night；　the　light；　the　air　WERE　what　I　was；　and　I　was　only　thrilling　ecstasy　and　wonder　at　the　rapture　of　it。〃

I　stopped　and　covered　my　face　with　my　hands；　and　tears　wet　my　fingers。

〃Oh；　I　cannot　make　it　real！　　I　was　only　there　such　a　short；　short　time。　　Even　if　you　had　been　with　me　I　could　not　have　found　words　for　it；　even　then。　　It　was　such　a　short　time。　　I　only　stood　and　lifted　my　face　and　felt　the　joy　of　it；　the　pure　marvel　of　joy。　　I　only　heard　myself　murmuring　over　and　over　again：　　‘Oh；　how　beautiful！　how　beautiful！　　Oh；　how　BEAUTIFUL！'

〃And　then　a　marvel　of　new　joy　swept　through　me。　　I　said；　very　softly　and　very　slowly；　as　if　my　voice　were　trailing　away　into　silence：　　‘Ohh！　　Icanliedownhereonthe　grassandsleep　。　。　。　allthroughthe　nightunderthismoonlight。　。　。　。　　I　can　sleep　sleep'

〃I　began　to　sink　softly　down；　with　the　heavenliest　feeling　of　relaxation　and　repose；　as　if　there　existed　only　the　soul　of　beautiful　rest。　　I　sank　so　softlyand　just　as　my　cheek　almost　touched　the　grass　the　dream　was　over！〃

〃Oh！〃　cried　Mrs。　MacNairn。　　〃Did　you　awaken？〃

〃No。　　I　came　back。　　In　my　sleep　I　suddenly　found　myself　creeping　into　my　bed　again　as　if　I　had　been　away　somewhere。　　I　was　wondering　why　I　was　there；　how　I　had　left　the　hillside；　when　I　had　left　it。　　That　part　WAS　a　dreambut　the　other　was　not。　　I　was　allowed　to　go　somewhereoutsideand　come　back。〃

I　caught　at　her　hand　in　the　dark。

〃The　words　are　all　wrong；〃　I　said。　　〃It　is　because　we　have　no　words　to　describe　that。　　But　have　I　made　you　feel　it　at　all？　　Oh！　　Mrs。　MacNairn；　have　I　been　able　to　make　you　know　that　it　was　not　a　dream？〃

She　lifted　my　hand　and　pressed　it　passionately　against　her　cheek；　and　her　cheek；　too；　was　wetwet。

〃No；　it　was　not　a　dream；〃　she　said。　　〃You　came　back。　　Thank　God　you　came　back；　just　to　tell　us　that　those　who　do　not　come　back　stand　awakened　in　that　ecstasyin　that　ecstasy。　　And　The　Fear　is　nothing。　　It　is　only　The　Dream。　　The　awakening　is　out　on　the　hillside；　out　on　the　hillside！　　Listen！〃　　She　started　as　she　said　it。　　〃Listen！　　The　nightingale　is　beginning　again。〃

He　sent　forth　in　the　dark　a　fountaina　rising；　aspiring　fountainof　golden　notes　which　seemed　to　reach　heaven　itself。　　The　night　was　made　radiant　by　them。　　He　flung　them　upward　like　a　shower　of　stars　into　the　sky。　　We　sat　and　listened；　almost　holding　our　breath。　　Oh！　the　nightingale！　the　nightingale！

〃He　knows；〃　Hector　MacNairn's　low　voice　said；　〃that　it　was　not　a　dream。〃

When　there　was　silence　again　I　heard　him　leave　his　chair　very　quietly。

〃Good　night！　good　night！〃　he　said；　and　went　away。　　I　felt　somehow　that　he　had　left　us　together　for　a　purpose；　but；　oh；　I　did　not　even　remotely　dream　what　the　purpose　was！　　But　soon　she　told　me；　almost　in　a　whisper。

〃We　love　you　very　much；　Ysobel；〃　she　said。　　〃You　know　that？〃

〃I　love　you　both；　with　all　my　heart；〃　I　answered。　　〃Indeed　I　love　you。〃

〃We　two　have　been　more　to　each　other　than　mere　mother　and　son。　　We　have　been　sufficient　for　each　other。　　But　he　began　to　love　you　that　first　day　when　he　watched　you　in　the　railway　carriage。　　He　says　it　was　the　far　look　in　your　eyes　which　drew　him。〃

〃I　began　to　love　him；　too；〃　I　said。　　And　I　was　not　at　all　ashamed　or　shy　in　saying　it。

〃We　three　might　have　spent　our　lives　together；〃　she　went　on。　　〃It　would　have　been　a　perfect　thing。　　Butbut〃　　She　stood　up　as　if　she　could　not　remain　seated。　　Involuntarily　I　stood　up　with　her。　　She　was　trembling；　and　she　caught　and　held　me　in　her　arms。　　〃He　cannot　stay；　Ysobel；〃　she　ended。

I　could　scarcely　hear　my　own　voice　when　I　echoed　the　words。

〃He　cannotstay？〃

〃Oh！　the　time　will　come；〃　she　said；　〃when　people　who　love　each　other　will　not　be　separated；　when　on　this　very　earth　there　will　be　no　pain；　no　grief；　no　age；　no　deathwhen　all　the　world　has　learned　the　Law　at　last。　　But　we　have　not　learned　it　yet。　　And　here　we　stand！　　The　greatest　specialists　have　told　us。　　There　is　some　fatal　flaw　in　his　heart。　　At　any　moment；　when　he　is　talking　to　us；　when　he　is　at　his　work；　when　he　is　asleep；　he　maycease。　　It　will　just　be　ceasing。　　At　any　moment。　　He　cannot　stay。〃

My　own　heart　stood　still　for　a　second。　　Then　there　rose　before　me　slowly；　but　clearly；　a　visionthe　vision　which　was　not　a　dream。

〃Out　on　the　hillside；〃　I　murmured。　　〃Out　on　the　hillside。〃

I　clung　to　her　with　both　arms　and　held　her　tight。　　I　understood　now　why　they　had　talked　about　The　Fear。　　These　two　who　were　almost　one　soul　were　trying　to　believe　that　they　were　not　really　to　be　torn　apartnot　really。　　They　were　trying　to　heap　up　for　themselves　proof　that　they　might　still　be　near　each　other。　　And；　above　all；　his　effort　was　to　save　her　from　the　worst；　worst　woe。　　And　I　understood；　too；　why　something　wiser　and　stronger　than　myself　had　led　me　to　tell　the　dream　which　was　not　a　dream　at　all。

But　it　was　as　she　said；　the　world　had　not　learned　the　Secret　yet。　　And　there　we　stood。　　We　did　not　cry　or　talk；　but　we　clung　to　each　otherwe　CLUNG。　　That　is　all　human　creatures　can　do　until　the　Secret　is　known。　　And　as　we　clung　the　nightingale　broke　out　again。

〃O　nightingale！　　O　nightingale！〃　she　said　in　her　low　wonder　of　a　voice。　　〃WHAT　are　you　trying　to　tell　us！〃　



CHAPTER　VIII

What　I　feel　sure　I　know　by　this　time　is　that　all　the　things　we　think　happen　by　chance　and　accident　are　only　part　of　the　weaving　of　the　scheme　of　life。　　When　you　begin　to　suspect　this　and　to　watch　closely　you　also　begin　to　see　how　trifles　connect　themselves　with　one　another；　and　seem　in　the　end　to　have　led　to　a　reason　and　a　meaning；　though　we　may　not　be　clever　enough　to　see　it　clearly。　　Nothing　is　an　accident。　　We　make　everything　happen　ourselves：　the　wrong　things　because　we　do　not　know　or　care　whether　we　are　wrong　or　right；　the　right　ones　because　we　unconsciously　or　consciously　choose　the　right　even　in　the　midst　of　our　ignorance。

I　dare　say　it　sounds　audacious　for　an　ordinary　girl　to　say　such　things　in　an　ordinary　way；　but　perhaps　I　have　said　them　in　spite　of　myself；　because　it　is　not　a　bad　thing　that　they　should　be　said　by　an　every…day　sort　of　person　in　simple　words　which　other　every…day　people　can　understand。　　I　am　only　expressing　what　has　gradually　grown　into　belief　in　my　mind　through　reading　with　Angus　ancient　books　and　modern　ones　books　about　faiths　and　religions；　books　about　philosophies　and　magics；　books　about　what　the　world　calls　marvels；　but　which　are　not　marvels　at　all；　but　only　workings　of　the　Law　most　people　have　not　yet　reasoned　about　or　even　accepted。

Angus　had　read　and　studied　them　all　his　life　before　he　began　to　read　them　with　me；　and　we　talked　them　over　together　sitting　by　the　fire　in　the　library；　fascinated　and　staring　at　each　other；　I　in　one　high…backed　chair　and　he　in　another　on　the　opposite　side　of　the　hearth。　　Angus　is　wonderfulwonderful！　　He　KNOWS　there　is　no　such　thing　as　chance。　　He　KNOWS　that　we　ourselves　are　the　working　of　the　Law　and　that　we　ourselves　could　work　what　now　are　stupidly　called　〃miracles〃　if　we　could　only　remember　always　what　the　Law　is。

What　I　intended　to　say　at　first　was　merely　that　it　was　not　by　chance　that　I　climbed　to　the　　shelf　in　the　library　that　afternoon　and　pushed　aside　the　books　hiding　the　old　manuscript　which　told　the　real　story　of　Dark　Malcolm　of　the　Glen　and　Wee　Brown　Elspeth。　　It　seemed　like　chance　when　it　happened；　but　it　was　really　the　first　step　toward　my　finding　out　the　strange；　beautiful　thing　I　knew　soon　afterward。

From　the　beginning　of　my　friendship　with　the　MacNairns　I　had　hoped　they　would　come　and　stay　with　me　at　Muircarrie。　　When　they　both　seemed　to　feel　such　interest　in　all　I　told　them　of　it；　and　not　to　mind　its　wild　remoteness；　I　took　courage　and　asked　them　if　they　would　come　to　me。　　Most　people　are　bored　by　the　prospect　of　life　in　a　feudal　castle；　howsoever　picturesquely　it　is　set　in　a　place　where　there　are　no　neighbors　to　count　on。　　Its　ancient　stateliness　is　too　dull。　　But　the　MacNairns　were　more　allured　by　what　Muircarrie　offered　than　they　were　by　other　and　more　brilliant　invitations。　　So　when　I　went　back　to　the　castle　I　was　only　to　be　alone　a　week　before　they　followed　me。

Jean　and　Angus　were　quite　happy　in　their　quiet　way　when　I　told　them　who　I　was　expecting。　　They　knew　how　glad　I　was　myself。　　Jean　was　full　of　silent　pleasure　as　she　arranged　the　rooms　I　had　chosen　for　my　guests；　rooms　which　had　the　most　sweeping　view　of　the　moor。　　Angus　knew　that　Mr。　MacNairn　would　love　the　library；　and　he　hovered　about　consulting　his　catalogues　and　looking　over　his　shelves；　taking　down　volumes　here　and　there；　holding　them　tenderly　in　his　long；　bony　old　hand　as　he　dipped　into　them。　　He　made　notes　of　the　manuscripts　and　books　he　thought　Mr。　MacNairn　would　feel　the　deepest　interest　in。　　He　loved　his　library　with　all　his　being；　and　I　knew　he　looked　forward　to　talking　to　a　man　who　would　care　for　it　in　the　same　way。

He　had　been　going　over　one　of　the　highest　shelves　one　day　and　had　left　his　step…ladder　leaning　against　it　when　he　went　elsewhere。　　It　was　when　I　mounted　the　steps；　as　I　often　did　when　he　left　them；　that　I　came　upon　the　manuscript　which　related　the　old　story　of　Dark　Malcolm　and　his　child。　　It　had　been　pushed　behind　some　volumes；　and　I　took　it　out　because　it　looked　so　old　and　yellow。　　And　I　opened　at　once　at　the　page　where　the　tale　began。

At　first　I　stood　reading；　and　then　I　sat　down　on　the　broad　top　of　the　ladder　and　forgot　everything。　　It　was　a　savage　history　of　ferocious　hate　and　barbarous　reprisals。　　It　had　been　a　feud　waged　between　two　clans　for　three　generations。　　The　story　of　Dark　Malcolm　and　Ian　Red　Hand　was　only　part　of　it；　but　it　was　a　gruesome　thing。　　Pages　t