the door in the wall-第2章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



recall　the　pleasant　lines；　the　finely…modelled　chin　of　her　sweet

kind　faceasking　me　questions　in　a　soft；　agreeable　voice；　and

telling　me　things；　pleasant　things　I　know；　though　what　they　were　I

was　never　able　to　recall　。　。　。　　And　presently　a　little　Capuchin

monkey；　very　clean；　with　a　fur　of　ruddy　brown　and　kindly　hazel

eyes；　came　down　a　tree　to　us　and　ran　beside　me；　looking　up　at　me

and　grinning；　and　presently　leapt　to　my　shoulder。　　So　we　went　on

our　way　in　great　happiness　。　。　。　。〃



He　paused。



〃Go　on；〃　I　said。



〃I　remember　little　things。　　We　passed　an　old　man　musing　among

laurels；　I　remember；　and　a　place　gay　with　paroquets；　and　came

through　a　broad　shaded　colonnade　to　a　spacious　cool　palace；　full　of

pleasant　fountains；　full　of　beautiful　things；　full　of　the　quality

and　promise　of　heart's　desire。　　And　there　were　many　things　and　many

people；　some　that　still　seem　to　stand　out　clearly　and　some　that　are

a　little　vague；　but　all　these　people　were　beautiful　and　kind。　　In

some　wayI　don't　know　howit　was　conveyed　to　me　that　they　all

were　kind　to　me；　glad　to　have　me　there；　and　filling　me　with

gladness　by　their　gestures；　by　the　touch　of　their　hands；　by　the

welcome　and　love　in　their　eyes。　　Yes〃



He　mused　for　awhile。　　〃Playmates　I　found　there。　　That　was　very

much　to　me；　because　I　was　a　lonely　little　boy。　　They　played

delightful　games　in　a　grass…covered　court　where　there　was　a

sun…dial　set　about　with　flowers。　　And　as　one　played　one　loved　。　。　。　。



〃Butit's　oddthere's　a　gap　in　my　memory。　　I　don't　remember

the　games　we　played。　　I　never　remembered。　　Afterwards；　as　a　child；

I　spent　long　hours　trying；　even　with　tears；　to　recall　the　form　of

that　happiness。　　I　wanted　to　play　it　all　over　againin　my　nursery

by　myself。　　No！　　All　I　remember　is　the　happiness　and　two　dear

playfellows　who　were　most　with　me　。　。　。　。　　Then　presently　came　a

sombre　dark　woman；　with　a　grave；　pale　face　and　dreamy　eyes；　a

sombre　woman　wearing　a　soft　long　robe　of　pale　purple；　who　carried

a　book　and　beckoned　and　took　me　aside　with　her　into　a　gallery　above

a　hallthough　my　playmates　were　loth　to　have　me　go；　and　ceased

their　game　and　stood　watching　as　I　was　carried　away。　　'Come　back　to

us！'　they　cried。　　'Come　back　to　us　soon！'　I　looked　up　at　her　face；

but　she　heeded　them　not　at　all。　　Her　face　was　very　gentle　and

grave。　　She　took　me　to　a　seat　in　the　gallery；　and　I　stood　beside

her；　ready　to　look　at　her　book　as　she　opened　it　upon　her　knee。　　The

pages　fell　open。　　She　pointed；　and　I　looked；　marvelling；　for　in　the

living　pages　of　that　book　I　saw　myself；　it　was　a　story　about

myself；　and　in　it　were　all　the　things　that　had　happened　to　me　since

ever　I　was　born　。　。　。　。



〃It　was　wonderful　to　me；　because　the　pages　of　that　book　were

not　pictures；　you　understand；　but　realities。〃



Wallace　paused　gravelylooked　at　me　doubtfully。



〃Go　on；〃　I　said。　　〃I　understand。〃



〃They　were　realitiesyes；　they　must　have　been；　people　moved

and　things　came　and　went　in　them；　my　dear　mother；　whom　I　had　near

forgotten；　then　my　father；　stern　and　upright；　the　servants；　the

nursery；　all　the　familiar　things　of　home。　　Then　the　front　door　and

the　busy　streets；　with　traffic　to　and　fro：　I　looked　and　marvelled；

and　looked　half　doubtfully　again　into　the　woman's　face　and　turned

the　pages　over；　skipping　this　and　that；　to　see　more　of　this　book；

and　more；　and　so　at　last　I　came　to　myself　hovering　and　hesitating

outside　the　green　door　in　the　long　white　wall；　and　felt　again　the

conflict　and　the　fear。



〃'And　next？'　I　cried；　and　would　have　turned　on；　but　the　cool

hand　of　the　grave　woman　delayed　me。



〃'Next？'　I　insisted；　and　struggled　gently　with　her　hand；

pulling　up　her　fingers　with　all　my　childish　strength；　and　as　she

yielded　and　the　page　came　over　she　bent　down　upon　me　like　a　shadow

and　kissed　my　brow。



〃But　the　page　did　not　show　the　enchanted　garden；　nor　the

panthers；　nor　the　girl　who　had　led　me　by　the　hand；　nor　the

playfellows　who　had　been　so　loth　to　let　me　go。　　It　showed　a　long

grey　street　in　West　Kensington；　on　that　chill　hour　of　afternoon

before　the　lamps　are　lit；　and　I　was　there；　a　wretched　little

figure；　weeping　aloud；　for　all　that　I　could　do　to　restrain　myself；

and　I　was　weeping　because　I　could　not　return　to　my　dear

play…fellows　who　had　called　after　me；　'Come　back　to　us！　　Come　back

to　us　soon！'　　I　was　there。　　This　was　no　page　in　a　book；　but　harsh

reality；　that　enchanted　place　and　the　restraining　hand　of　the　grave

mother　at　whose　knee　I　stood　had　gonewhither　have　they　gone？〃



He　halted　again；　and　remained　for　a　time；　staring　into　the　fire。



〃Oh！　the　wretchedness　of　that　return！〃　he　murmured。



〃Well？〃　I　said　after　a　minute　or　so。



〃Poor　little　wretch　I　wasbrought　back　to　this　grey　world

again！　　As　I　realised　the　fulness　of　what　had　happened　to　me；　I

gave　way　to　quite　ungovernable　grief。　　And　the　shame　and

humiliation　of　that　public　weeping　and　my　disgraceful　homecoming

remain　with　me　still。　　I　see　again　the　benevolent…looking　old

gentleman　in　gold　spectacles　who　stopped　and　spoke　to　meprodding

me　first　with　his　umbrella。　　'Poor　little　chap；'　said　he；　'and　are

you　lost　then？'and　me　a　London　boy　of　five　and　more！　　And　he　must

needs　bring　in　a　kindly　young　policeman　and　make　a　crowd　of　me；　and

so　march　me　home。　　Sobbing；　conspicuous　and　frightened；　I　came　from

the　enchanted　garden　to　the　steps　of　my　father's　house。



〃That　is　as　well　as　I　can　remember　my　vision　of　that

gardenthe　garden　that　haunts　me　still。　　Of　course；　I　can　convey

nothing　of　that　indescribable　quality　of　translucent　unreality；

that　difference　from　the　common　things　of　experience　that　hung

about　it　all；　but　thatthat　is　what　happened。　　If　it　was　a　dream；

I　am　sure　it　was　a　day…time　and　altogether　extraordinary　dream　。　。

。　。　。　。　　H'm！naturally　there　followed　a　terrible　questioning；　by

my　aunt；　my　father；　the　nurse；　the　governesseveryone　。　。　。　。　。　。



〃I　tried　to　tell　them；　and　my　father　gave　me　my　first

thrashing　for　telling　lies。　　When　afterwards　I　tried　to　tell　my

aunt；　she　punished　me　again　for　my　wicked　persistence。　　Then；　as　I

said；　everyone　was　forbidden　to　listen　to　me；　to　hear　a　word　about

it。　　Even　my　fairy　tale　books　were　taken　away　from　me　for　a

timebecause　I　was　'too　imaginative。'　Eh？　　Yes；　they　did　that！　　My

father　belonged　to　the　old　school　。　。　。　。　。　And　my　story　was　driven

back　upon　myself。　　I　whispered　it　to　my　pillowmy　pillow　that　was

often　damp　and　salt　to　my　whispering　lips　with　childish　tears。　　And

I　added　always　to　my　official　and　less　fervent　prayers　this　one

heartfelt　request：　'Please　God　I　may　dream　of　the　garden。　　Oh！　take

me　back　to　my　garden！　　Take　me　back　to　my　garden！'



〃I　dreamt　often　of　the　garden。　　I　may　have　added　to　it；　I　may

have　changed　it；　I　do　not　know　。　。　。　。　。　　All　this　you　understand

is　an　attempt　to　reconstruct　from　fragmentary　memories　a　very　early

experience。　　Between　that　and　the　other　consecutive　memories　of　my

boyhood　there　is　a　gulf。　　A　time　came　when　it　seemed　impossible　I

should　ever　speak　of　that　wonder　glimpse　again。〃



I　asked　an　obvious　question。



〃No；〃　he　said。　　〃I　don't　remember　that　I　ever　attempted　to

find　my　way　back　to　the　garden　in　those　early　years。　　This　seems

odd　to　me　now；　but　I　think　that　very　probably　a　closer　watch　was

kept　on　my　movements　after　this　misadventure　to　prevent　my　going

astray。　　No；　it　wasn't　until　you　knew　me　that　I　tried　for　the

garden　again。　　And　I　believe　there　was　a　period　incredible　as　it

seems　nowwhen　I　forgot　the　garden　altogetherwhen　I　was　about

eight　or　nine　it　may　have　been。　　Do　you　remember　me　as　a　kid　at

Saint　Athelstan's？〃



〃Rather！〃



〃I　didn't　show　any　signs　did　I　in　those　days　of　having　a　secret　dream？〃





II





He　looked　up　with　a　sudden　smile。



〃Did　you　ever　play　North…West　Passage　with　me？　。　。　。　。　。　　No；

of　course　you　didn't　come　my　way！〃



〃It　was　the　sort　of　game；〃　he　went　on；　〃that　every　imaginative

child　plays　all　day。　　The　idea　was　the　discovery　of　a　North…West

Passage　to　school。　　The　way　to　school　was　plain　enough；　the　game

consisted　in　finding　some　way　that　wasn't　plain；　starting　off　ten

minutes　early　in　some　almost　hopeless　direction；　and　working　one's

way　round　through　unaccustomed　streets　to　my　goal。　　And　one　day　I

got　entangled　among　some　rather　low…class　streets　on　the　other　side

of　Campden　Hill；　and　I　began　to　think　that　for　once　the　game　would

be　against　me　and　that　I　should　get　to　school　late。　　I　tried　rather

desperately　a　street　that　seemed　a　cul　de　sac；　and　found　a

passage　at　the　end。　　I　hurried　through　that　with　renewed　hope。　　'I

shall　do　it　yet；'　I　said；　and　passed　a　row　of　frowsy　little　shops

that　were　inexplicably　familiar　to　me；　and　behold！　there　was　my

long　white　wall　and　the　green　door　that　led　to　the　enchanted

garden！



〃The　thing　whacked　upon　me　suddenly。　　Then；　after　all；　that　garden；

that　wonderful　garden；　wasn't　a　dream！〃　。　。　。　。



He　paused。



〃I　suppose　my　second　experience　with　the　green　door　marks　the

world　of　difference　there　is　between　the　busy　life　of　a　schoolboy

and　the　infinite　leisure　of　a　child。　　Anyhow；　this　second　time　I

didn't　for　a　moment　think　of　going　in　straight　away。　　You　see　。　。

。　　For　one　thing　my　mind　was　full　of　the　idea　of　getting　to　school

in　timeset　on　not　breaking　my　record　for　punctuality。　　I　must

surely　have　felt　SOME　little　desire　at　least　to　try　the

dooryes；　I　must　have　felt　that　。　。　。　。　。　　But　I　seem　to　remember

the　attraction　of　the　door　mainly　as　another　obstacle　to　my

overmastering　determination　to　get　to　school。　　I　was　immediately

interested　by　this　discovery　I　had　made；　of　courseI　went　on　with

my　mind　full　of　itbut　I　went　on。　　It　didn't　check　me。　　I　ran　past

tugging　out　my　watch；　found　I　had　ten　minutes　still　to　spare；　and

then　I　was　going　downhill　into　familiar　surroundings。　　I　got　to

school；　breathless；　it　is　true；　and　wet　with　perspiration；　but　in

time。　　I　can　remember　hanging　up　my　coat　and　hat　。　。　。　Went　right

by　it　and　left　it　behind　me。　　Odd；　eh？〃



He　looked　at　me　thoughtfully。　　〃Of　course；　I　didn't　know　then

that　it　wouldn't　always　be　there。　　School　boys　have　limited

imaginations。　　I　suppose　I　thought　it　was　an　awfully　jolly　thing　to

have　it　there；　to　know　my　way　back　to　it；　but　there　was　the　school

tugging　at　me。　　I　expect　I　was　a　good　deal　distraught　and

inattentive　that　morning；　recalling　what　I　could　of　the　beautiful

strange　people　I　should　presently　see　again。　　Oddly　enough　I　had　no

doubt　in　my　mind　that　they　would　be　glad　to　see　me　。　。　。　Yes；　I

must　have　thought　of　the　garden　that　morning　just　as　a　jolly　sort

of　place　to　which　one　might　resort　in　the　interludes　of　a　strenuous

scholastic　career。



〃I　didn't　go　that　day　at　all。　　The　next　day　was　a　half

holiday；　and　that　may　have　weighed　with　me。　　Perhaps；　too；　my　state

of　inattention　brought　down　impositions　upon　me　and　docked　the

margin　of　time　ne