the choir invisible-第16章

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　soon　as　he　comes。〃

She　had　risen　and　was　making　some　rapid　preparations。

〃I　want　my　dinner；〃　said　Amy　ruefully；　seating　herself　on　the　edge　of　the　bed　and　watching　her　aunt　with　disapproval。

〃You　can't　go　now！〃　she　exclaimed。　〃Uncle　has　the　horses　in　the　field。〃

Mrs。　Falconer　turned　to　her　with　simple　earnestness。

〃I　hoped　you　would　lend　me　your　horse？〃

〃But　he　is　tired；　and　beside　I　want　to　use　him　this　afternoon：　Kitty　and　I　are　going　visiting。〃

〃Tell　your　uncle　when　he　comes　in；〃　said　Mrs。　Falconer；　turning　in　the　doorway　a　minute　later；　and　speaking　rapidly　to　her　niece；　but　without　the　least　reproach；　〃tell　your　uncle　that　his　friend　is　badly　hurt。　Tell　him　that　we　do　not　know　how　badly。　Tell　him　that　I　have　gone　to　find　out　and　to　do　anything　for　him　that　I　can。　　Tell　him　to　follow　me　at　once。　　He　will　find　me　at　his　bedside。　I　am　sorry　about　the　dinner。〃


XII

SEVERAL　days　had　slipped　by。

At　John's　request　they　had　moved　his　bed　across　the　doorway　of　his　cabin；　and　stretched　there；　he　could　see　the　sun　spring　every　morning　out　the　dimpled　emerald　ocean　of　the　wilderness；　and　the　moon　follow　at　night；　silvering　the　soft　ripples　of　the　multitudinous　leaves　lapping　the　shores　of　silence：　days　when　the　inner　noises　of　life　sounded　like　storms；　nights　when　everything　within　him　lay　as　still　as　memory。

His　wounds　had　behaved　well　from　the　out…set。　When　he　had　put　forth　all　his　frenzied　despairing　strength　to　throttle　the　cougar；　it　had　let　go　its　hold　only　to　sink　its　fangs　more　deeply　into　his　flesh；　thus　increasing　the　laceration；　and　there　was　also　much　laceration　of　the　hand。　But　the　rich　blood　flowing　in　him　was　the　purest；　and　among　a　people　who　for　a　quarter　of　a　century　had　been　used　to　the　treatment　of　wounds；　there　prevailed　a　rough　but　genuine　skill　that　stood　him　in　good　stead。　　To　these　hardy　fighting　folk；　as　to　him；　it　was　a　scratch　and　he　would　have　liked　to　go　on　with　his　teaching。　Warned　of　the　danger　of　inflammation；　however；　he　took　to　his　bed；　and　according　to　our　own　nervous　standards　which　seem　to　have　intensified　pain　for　us　beyond　the　comprehension　of　our　forefathers；　he　was　sick　and　a　great　sufferer。

Those　long　cool；　sweet；　brilliant　days！　Those　long　still；　lonely；　silvery　nights！　His　cabin　stood　near　the　crest　of　the　hill　that　ran　along　the　southern　edge　of　the　settlement；　and　propped　on　his　bed；　he　could　look　down　into　the　wide　valleyinto　the　town。　The　frame　of　his　door　became　the　frame　of　many　a　living　picture。　Under　a　big　shady　tree　at　the　creek…side；　he　could　see　some　of　his　children　playing　or　fishing：　their　shouts　and　laughter　were　borne　to　his　ear；　he　could　recognize　their　shrill　voicesthose　always　masterful　voices　of　boys　at　their　games。　Sometimes　these　little　figures　were　framed　timidly　just　outside　the　doorthe　girls　with　small　wilted　posies；　the　boys　with　inquiries。　But　there　was　no　disguising　the　dread　they　all　felt　that　he　might　soon　be　well：　he　had　felt　himself　once；　he　did　not　blame　them。　Wee　Jennie　even　came　up　with　her　slate　one　day　and　asked　him　to　set　her　a　sum　in　multiplication；　he　did　so；　but　he　knew　that　she　would　rub　it　out　as　soon　as　she　could　get　out　of　sight；　and　he　laughed　quietly　to　himself　at　this　tiny　casuist；　who　was　trying　so　hard　to　deceive　them　both。

Two　or　three　times；　now　out　in　the　sunlight；　now　under　the　shadow　of　the　trees；　he　saw　an　old　white　horse　go　slowly　along　the　distant　road；　and　a　pink　skirt　and　a　huge　white　bonnettwo　or　three　times；　but　he　watched　for　it　a　thousand　times　till　his　eyes　grew　weary。

One　day　Erskine　brought　the　skin　of　the　panther　which　he　was　preparing　for　him；　to　take　the　place　of　the　old　one　under　his　table。　He　brought　his　rifle　along　also；his　〃Betsy；〃　as　he　always　called　it；　which；　however；　he　declared　was　bewitched　just　now；　and　for　a　while　John　watched　him　curiously　as　he　nailed　a　target　on　a　tree　in　front　of　John's　door；　drew　on　it　the　face　of　the　person　whom　he　charged　with　having　bewitched　his　gun；　and　then；　standing　back；　shot　it　with　a　silver　bullet；　after　which；　the　spell　being　now　undone；　he　dug　the　bullet　out　of　the　tree　again　and　went　off　to　hunt　with　confidence　in　his　luck。

And　then　the　making　of　history　was　going　on　under　his　eyes　down　there　in　the　town；　and　many　a　thoughtful　hour　he　studied　that。　　The　mere　procession　of　figures　across　his　field　of　vision　symbolized　the　march　of　destiny；　the　onward　sweep　of　the　race；　the　winning　of　the　continent。　Now　the　barbaric　paint　and　plumes　of　some　proud　Indian；　peaceably　come　to　trade　in　pelts　but　really　to　note　the　changes　that　had　taken　place　in　his　great　hunting　ground；　loved　and　ranged　of　old　beyond　all　others：　this　figure　was　the　Pastthe　old；　old　Past。　Next；　the　picturesque；　rugged　outlines　of　some　backwoods　rifleman；　who　with　his　fellows　had　dislodged　and　pushed　the　Indian　westward：　this　figure　was　the　Presentthe　short…lived　Present。　Lastly；　dislodging　this　figure　in　turn　and　already　pushing　him　westward　as　he　had　driven　the　Indian；　a　third　type　of　historic　man；　the　fixed　settler；　the　land…loving；　house…building；　wife…bringing；　child…getting；　stock…breeding　yeoman　of　the　new　field　and　pasture：　this　was　the　figure　of　the　endless　Future。　The　retreating　wave　of　Indian　life；　the　thin　restless　wave　of　frontier　life；　the　on…coming；　all…burying　wave　of　civilized　lifehe　seemed　to　feel　close　to　him　the　mighty　movements　of　the　three。　His　own　affair；　the　attack　of　the　panther；　the　last　encounter　between　the　cabin　and　the　jungle　looked　to　him　as　typical　of　the　conquest；　and　that　he　should　have　come　out　of　the　struggle　alive；　and　have　owed　his　life　to　the　young　Indian　fighter　and　hunter　who　had　sprung　between　him　and　the　incarnate　terror　of　the　wilderness；　affected　his　imagination　as　an　epitome　of　the　whole　winning　of　the　West。

One　morning　while　the　earth　was　still　fresh　with　dew；　the　great　Boone　came　to　inquire　for　him；　and　before　he　left；　drew　from　the　pocket　of　his　hunting　shirt　a　well…worn　little　volume。

〃It　has　been　my　friend　many　a　night；〃　he　said。　〃I　have　read　it　by　many　a　camp…fire。　I　had　it　in　my　pocket　when　I　stood　on　the　top　of　Indian　Old　Fields　and　saw　the　blue　grass　lands　for　the　first　time。　　And　when　we　encamped　on　the　creek　there；　I　named　it　Lulbegrud　in　honour　of　my　book。　You　can　read　it　while　you　have　nothing　else　to　do；〃　and　he　astounded　John　by　leaving　in　his　hand　Swift's　story　of　adventures　in　new　worlds。

He　had　many　other　visitors：　the　Governor；　Mr。　Bradford；　General　Wilkinson；　the　leaders　in　the　French　movement；　all　of　whom　were　solicitous　for　his　welfare　as　a　man；　but　also　as　their　chosen　emissary　to　the　Jacobin　Club　of　Philadelphia。　In　truth　it　seemed　to　him　that　everyone　in　the　town　came　sooner　or　later；　to　take　a　turn　at　his　bedside　or　wish　him　well。

Except　four　persons：　Amy　did　not　come；　nor　Joseph；　with　whom　he　had　quarrelled　and　with　whom　he　meant　to　settle　his　difference　as　soon　as　he　could　get　about；　nor　O'Bannon；　whose　practical　joke　had　indirectly　led　to　the　whole　trouble；　nor　Peter；　who　toiled　on　at　his　forge　with　his　wounded　vanity。

Betrothals　were　not　kept　secret　in　those　days　and　engagements　were　short。　But　as　he　was　sick　and　suffering；　some　of　those　who　visited　him　forbore　to　mention　her　name；　much　less　to　speak　of　the　preparations　now　going　forward　for　her　marriage　with　Joseph。　Others；　indeed；　did　begin　to　talk　of　her　and　to　pry；　but　he　changed　the　subject　quickly。

And　so　he　lay　there　with　the　old　battle　going　on　in　his　thoughts；　never　knowing　that　she　had　promised　to　become　the　wife　of　another：　fighting　it　all　over　in　his　foolish；　iron…minded　way：　some　days　hardening　and　saying　he　would　never　look　her　in　the　face　again；　other　days　softening　and　resolving　to　seek　her　out　as　soon　as　he　grew　well　enough　and　learn　whether　the　fault　of　all　this　quarrel　lay　with　him　or　wherein　lay　the　truth：　yet　in　all　his　moods　sore　beset　with　doubts　of　her　sincerity　and　at　all　times　passing　sore　over　his　defeatdefeat　that　always　went　so　hard　with　him。

Meantime　one　person　was　pondering　his　case　with　a　solicitude　that　he　wist　not　of：　the　Reverend　James　Moore；　the　flute…playing　Episcopal　parson　of　the　town；　within　whose　flock　this　marriage　was　to　take　place　and　who　may　have　regarded　Amy　as　one　of　his　most　frisky　wayward　fleeces。　Perhaps　indeed　as　not　wearing　a　white　spiritual　fleece　at　all　but　as　dyed　a　sort　of　merino…brown　in　the　matter　of　righteousness。

He　had　long　been　fond　of　Johnthey　both　being　pure…minded　men；　religious；　bookish；　and　bachelors；　but　their　friendship　caused　one　to　think　of　the　pine　and　the　palm：　for　the　parson；　with　his　cold　bleak　face；　palish　straight　hair　put　back　behind　white　ears；　and　frozen　smile；　appeared　always　to　be　inhabiting　the　arctic　regions　of　life　while　John；　though　rooted　in　a　tropical　soil　of　many　passions；　strove　always　to　bear　himself　in　character　like　a　palm；　up…right；　clean…cut；　having　no　low　or　drooping　branches；　and　putting　forth　all　the　foliage　and　blossoms　of　the　mind　at　the　very　summit　of　his　powers。　The　parson　and　the　school…master　had　often　walked　out　to　the　Falconers'　together　in　the　days　when　John　imagined　his　suit　to　be　faring　prosperously；　and　from　Amy's　conduct；　and　his　too　slight　knowledge　of　the　sex；　this　arctic　explorer　had　long　since　adjusted　his　frosted　faculties　to　the　notion　that　she　expected　to　become　John's　wife。　He　was　sorry；　it　sent　an　extra　chill　through　the　icebergs　of　his　imagination；　but　perhaps　he　gathered　comforting　warmth　from　the　hope　that　some　of　John's　whiteness　would　fall　upon　her　and　that　thus　from　being　a　blackish　lambkin　she　would　at　least　eventually　turn　into　a　light…gray　ewe。

When　the　tidings　reached　his　far…inward　ear　that　she　was　to　marry　Joseph　instead　of　his　friend；　a　general　thaw　set　in　over　the　entire　landscape　of　his　nature：　it　was　like　spring　along　the　southern　fringes　of　Greenland。

The　error　must　not　be　inculcated　here　that　the　parson　had　no　passions：　he　had　three…ruling　ones：　a　passion　for　music；　a　passion　for　metaphysics；　and　a　passion　for　satirizing　the　other　sex。

Dropping　in　one　afternoon　and　glancing　with　delicate　indirection　at　John's　short　shelf　of　books；　he　inquired　whether　he　had　finished　with　his　Paley。　John　said　he　had　and　the　parson　took　it　down　to　bear　away　with　him。　Laying　it　across　his　stony　knees　as　he　sat　down　and　piling　his　white　hands　on　it；

〃Do　you　believe　Paley？〃　he　asked；　turning　upon　John　a　pair　of　the　most　beautiful　eyes；　which　looked　a　little　like　moss　agates。

〃I　believe　St。　Paul；〃　replied　John；　turning　his　own　eyes　fondly　on　his　open　Testament。

〃Do　you　believe　Paley？〃　insisted　the　parson；　who　would　always　have　his　questions　answered　directly。

〃There's　a　good　deal　of　Paley：　what　do　you　mean？〃　said　John；　laughing　evasively。

〃I　mean　his　ground　idea…the　corner　stone　of　his　doctrine　…his　pou　sto。　I　mean　do　you　believe　that　we　can　infer　the　existence　and　character　of　God　from　any　evidences　of　design　that　we　see　in　the　universe　〃

〃I'm　not　so　sure　about　that；〃　said　John。　〃What　we　call　the　evidences　of　design　in　the　universe　may　be　merely　certain　laws　of　our　own　minds；　certain　inward　necessities　we　are　under　to　think　of　everything　as　having　an　order　and　a　plan　and　a　cause。　And　these　inner　necessities　may　themselves　rest　on　nothing；　may　be　wrong；　may　be　deceiving　us。〃

〃Oh；　I　don't　mean　that！〃