fraternity-第27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！


　home　with　her；　and　installed　him　in　a　room　in　her　own　house。　　After　the　first　day　or　two　he　had　not　noticed　any　change　to　speak　of。

His　habits　in　his　new　home　were　soon　formed；　and　once　formed；　they　varied　not　at　all；　for　he　admitted　into　his　life　nothing　which　took　him　from　the　writing　of　his　book。

On　the　afternoon　following　Hilary's　dismissal　of　the　little　model；　being　disappointed　of　his　amanuensis；　Mr。　Stone　had　waited　for　an　hour；　reading　his　pages　over　and　over　to　himself。　　He　had　then　done　his　exercises。　　At　the　usual　time　for　tea　he　had　sat　down；　and；　with　his　cup　and　brown　bread…and…butter　alternately　at　his　lips；　had　looked　long　and　fixedly　at　the　place　where　the　girl　was　wont　to　sit。　Having　finished；　he　left　the　room　and　went　about　the　house。　　He　found　no　one　but　Miranda；　who；　seated　in　the　passage　leading　to　the　studio；　was　trying　to　keep　one　eye　on　the　absence　of　her　master　and　the　other　on　the　absence　of　her　mistress。　　She　joined　Mr。　Stone；　maintaining　a　respect…compelling　interval　behind　him　when　he　went　before；　and　before　him　when　he　went　behind。　　When　they　had　finished　hunting；　Mr。　Stone　went　down　to　the　garden　gate。　　Here　Bianca　found　him　presently　motionless；　without　a　hat；　in　the　full　sun；　craning　his　white　head　in　the　direction　from　which　he　knew　the　little　model　habitually　came。　The　mistress　of　the　house　was　herself　returning　from　her　annual　visit　to　the　Royal　Academy；　where　she　still　went；　as　dogs；　from　some　perverted　sense；　will　go　and　sniff　round　other　dogs　to　whom　they　have　long　taken　a　dislike。　　A　loose…hanging　veil　depended　from　her　mushroom…shaped　and　coloured　hat。　　Her　eyes　were　brightened　by　her　visit。　Mr。　Stone　soon　seemed　to　take　in　who　she　was；　and　stood　regarding　her　a　minute　without　speaking。　　His　attitude　towards　his　daughters　was　rather　like　that　of　an　old　drake　towards　two　swans　whom　he　has　inadvertently　begottenthere　was　inquiry　in　it；　disapproval；　admiration；　and　faint　surprise。

〃Why　has　she　not　come？〃　　he　said。

Bianca　winced　behind　her　veil。　　〃Have　you　asked　Hilary？〃

〃I　cannot　find　him；〃　answered　Mr。　Stone。　　Something　about　his　patient　stooping　figure　and　white　head；　on　which　the　sunlight　was　falling；　made　Bianca　slip　her　hand　through　his　arm。

〃Come　in；　Dad。　　I'll　do　your　copying。〃

Mr。　Stone　looked　at　her　intently；　and　shook　his　head。

〃It　would　be　against　my　principles；　I　cannot　take　an　unpaid　service。　But　if　you　would　come；　my　dear；　I　should　like　to　read　to　you。　　It　is　stimulating。〃

At　that　request　Bianca's　eyes　grew　dim。　　Pressing　Mr。　Stone's　shaggy　arm　against　her　breast；　she　moved　with　him　towards　the　house。

〃I　think　I　may　have　written　something　that　will　interest　you；〃　Mr。　Stone　said；　as　they　went　along。

〃I　am　sure　you　have；〃　Bianca　murmured。

〃It　is　universal；〃　said　Mr。　Stone；　〃it　concerns　birth。　　Sit　at　the　table。　　I　will　begin；　as　usual；　where　I　left　off　yesterday。〃

Bianca　took　the　little　model's　seat；　resting　her　chin　on　her　hand；　as　motionless　as　any　of　the　statues　she　had　just　been　viewing。　It　almost　seemed　as　if　Mr。　Stone　were　feeling　nervous。　　He　twice　arranged　his　papers；　cleared　his　throat；　then；　lifting　a　sheet　suddenly；　took　three　steps；　turned　his　back　on　her；　and　began　to　read。

〃'In　that　slow；　incessant　change　of　form　to　form；　called　Life；　men；　made　spasmodic　by　perpetual　action；　had　seized　on　a　certain　moment；　no　more　intrinsically　notable　than　any　other　moment；　and　had　called　it　Birth。　　This　habit　of　honouring　one　single　instant　of　the　universal　process　to　the　disadvantage　of　all　the　other　instants　had　done　more；　perhaps；　than　anything　to　obfuscate　the　crystal　clearness　of　the　fundamental　flux。　　As　well　might　such　as　watch　the　process　of　the　green；　unfolding　earth；　emerging　from　the　brumous　arms　of　winter；　isolate　a　single　day　and　call　it　Spring。　　In　the　tides　of　rhythm　by　which　the　change　of　form　to　form　was　governed'〃Mr。　Stone's　voice；　which　had　till　then　been　but　a　thin；　husky　murmur；　gradually　grew　louder　and　louder；　as　though　he　were　addressing　a　great　concourse　〃'the　golden　universal　haze　in　which　men　should　have　flown　like　bright　wing…beats　round　the　sun　gave　place　to　the　parasitic　halo　which　every　man　derived　from　the　glorifying　of　his　own　nativity。　　To　this　primary　mistake　could　be　traced　his　intensely　personal　philosophy。　　Slowly　but　surely　there　had　dried　up　in　his　heart　the　wish　to　be　his　brother。'〃

He　stopped　reading　suddenly。

〃I　see　him　coming　in；〃　he　said。

The　next　minute　the　door　opened；　and　Hilary　entered。

〃She　has　not　come；〃　said　Mr。　Stone；　and　Bianca　murmured：

〃We　miss　her！〃

〃Her　eyes；〃　said　Mr。　Stone；　〃have　a　peculiar　look；　they　help　me　to　see　into　the　future。　　I　have　noticed　the　same　look　in　the　eyes　of　female　dogs。〃

With　a　little　laugh；　Bianca　murmured　again：

〃That　is　good！〃

〃There　is　one　virtue　in　dogs；〃　said　Hilary；　〃which　human　beings　lack…　they　are　incapable　of　mockery。〃

But　Bianca's　lips；　parted；　indrawn；　seemed　saying：　'You　ask　too　much！　I　no　longer　attract　you。　　Am　I　to　sympathise　in　the　attraction　this　common　little　girl　has　for　you？'

Mr。　Stone's　gaze　was　fixed　intently　on　the　wall。

〃The　dog；〃　he　said；　〃has　lost　much　of　its　primordial　character。〃

And；　moving　to　his　desk；　he　took　up　his　quill　pen。

Hilary　and　Bianca　made　no　sound；　nor　did　they　look　at　one　another；　and　in　this　silence；　so　much　more　full　of　meaning　than　any　talk；　the　scratching　of　the　quill　went　on。　　Mr。　Stone　put　it　down　at　last；　and；　seeing　two　persons　in　the　room；　read：

〃'Looking　back　at　those　days　when　the　doctrine　of　evolution　had　reached　its　pinnacle；　one　sees　how　the　human　mind；　by　its　habit　of　continual　crystallisations；　had　destroyed　all　the　meaning　of　the　process。　　Witness；　for　example；　that　sterile　phenomenon；　the　pagoda　of　'caste'！　　Like　this　Chinese　building；　so　was　Society　then　formed。　Men　were　living　there　in　layers；　as　divided　from　each　other；　class　from　class…'〃　He　took　up　the　quill；　and　again　began　to　write。

〃You　understand；　I　suppose；〃　said　Hilary　in　a　low　voice；　〃that　she　has　been　told　not　to　come？〃

Bianca　moved　her　shoulders。

With　a　most　unwonted　look　of　anger；　he　added：

〃Is　it　within　the　scope　of　your　generosity　to　credit　me　with　the　desire　to　meet　your　wishes？〃

Bianca's　answer　was　a　laugh　so　strangely　hard；　so　cruelly　bitter；　that　Hilary　involuntarily　turned；　as　though　to　retrieve　the　sound　before　it　reached　the　old　man's　ears。

Mr。　Stone　had　laid　down　his　pen。　　〃I　shall　write　no　more　to…day；〃　he　said；　〃I　have　lost　my　feelingI　am　not　myself。〃　　He　spoke　in　a　voice　unlike　his　own。

Very　tired　and　worn　his　old　figure　looked；　as　some　lean　horse；　whose　sun　has　set；　stands　with　drooped　head；　the　hollows　in　his　neck　showing　under　his　straggling　mane。　　And　suddenly；　evidently　quite　oblivious　that　he　had　any　audience；　he　spoke：

〃O　Great　Universe；　I　am　an　old　man　of　a　faint　spirit；　with　no　singleness　of　purpose。　　Help　me　to　write　onhelp　me　to　write　a　book　such　as　the　world　has　never　seen！〃

A　dead　silence　followed　that　strange　prayer；　then　Bianca；　with　tears　rolling　down　her　face；　got　up　and　rushed　out　of　the　room。

Mr。　Stone　came　to　himself。　　His　mute；　white　face　had　suddenly　grown　scared　and　pink。　　He　looked　at　Hilary。

〃I　fear　that　I　forgot　myself。　　Have　I　said　anything　peculiar？〃

Not　feeling　certain　of　his　voice；　Hilary　shook　his　head；　and　he；　too；　moved　towards　the　door。




CHAPTER　XXIV

SHADOWLAND

〃Each　of　us　has　a　shadow　in　those　placesin　those　streets。〃

That　saying　of　Mr。　Stone's；　whichlike　so　many　of　his　sayingshad　travelled　forth　to　beat　the　air；　might　have　seemed；　even　〃in　those　days；〃　not　altogether　without　meaning　to　anyone　who　looked　into　the　room　of　Mr。　Joshua　Creed　in　Hound　Street。

This　aged　butler　lay　in　bed　waiting　for　the　inevitable　striking　of　a　small　alarum　clock　placed　in　the　very　centre　of　his　mantelpiece。　Flanking　that　round　and　ruthless　arbiter；　which　drove　him　day　by　day　to　stand　up　on　feet　whose　time　had　come　to　rest；　were　the　effigies　of　his　past　triumphs。　　On　the　one　hand；　in　a　papier…mache　frame；　slightly　tinged　with　smuts；　stood　a　portrait　of　the　〃Honorable　Bateson；〃　in　the　uniform　of　his　Yeomanry。　　Creed's　former　master's　face　wore　that　dare…devil　look　with　which　he　had　been　wont　to　say：　〃D…n　it；　Creed！　lend　me　a　pound。　　I've　got　no　money！〃　　On　the　other　hand；　in　a　green　frame　which　had　once　been　plush；　and　covered　by　a　glass　with　a　crack　in　the　left…hand　corner；　was　a　portrait　of　the　Dowager　Countess　of　Glengower；　as　this　former　mistress　of　his　appeared；　conceived　by　the　local　photographer；　laying　the　foundation…　stone　of　the　local　almshouse。　　During　the　wreck　of　Creed's　career；　which；　following　on　a　lengthy　illness；　had　preceded　his　salvation　by　the　Westminster　Gazette；　these　two　household　gods　had　lain　at　the　bottom　of　an　old　tin　trunk；　in　the　possession　of　the　keeper　of　a　lodging…house；　waiting　to　be　bailed　out。　　The　〃Honorable　Bateson〃　was　now　dead；　nor　had　he　paid　as　yet　the　pounds　he　had　borrowed。　　Lady　Glengower；　too；　was　in　heaven；　remembering　that　she　had　forgotten　all　her　servants　in　her　will。　　He　who　had　served　them　was　still　alive；　and　his　first　thought；　when　he　had　secured　his　post　on　the　〃Westminister；〃　was　to　save　enough　to　rescue　them　from　a　dishonourable　confinement。　It　had　taken　him　six　months。　　He　had　found　them　keeping　company　with　three　pairs　of　woollen　drawers；　an　old　but　respectable　black　tail…coat；　a　plaid　cravat；　a　Bible；　four　socks；　two　of　which　had　toes　and　two　of　which　had　heels；　some　darning…cotton　and　a　needle；　a　pair　of　elastic…sided　boots；　a　comb　and　a　sprig　of　white　heather；　wrapped　up　with　a　little　piece　of　shaving…soap　and　two　pipe…　cleaners　in　a　bit　of　the　Globe　newspaper；　also　two　collars；　whose　lofty　points；　separated　by　gaps　of　quite　two　inches；　had　been　wont　to　reach　their　master's　gills；　the　small　alarum　clock　aforesaid；　and　a　tiepin　formed　in　the　likeness　of　Queen　Victoria　at　the　date　of　her　first　Jubilee。　　How　many　times　had　he　not　gone　in　thought　over　those　stores　of　treasure　while　he　was　parted　from　them！　　How　many　times　since　they　had　come　back　to　him　had　he　not　pondered　with　a　slow　but　deathless　anger　on　the　absence　of　a　certain　shirt；　which　he　could　have　sworn　had　been　amongst　them。

But　now　he　lay　in　bed　waiting　to　hear　the　clock　go　off；　with　his　old　bristly　chin　beneath　the　bedclothes；　and　his　old　discoloured　nose　above。　　He　was　thinking　the　thoughts　which　usually　came　into　his　mind　about　this　hourthat　Mrs。　Hughs　ought　not　to　scrape　the　butter　off　his　bread　for　breakfast　in　the　way　she　did；　that　she　ought　to　take　that　sixpence　off　his　rent；　that　the　man　who　brought　his　late　editions　in　the　cart　ought　to　be　earlier；　letting　'that　man'　get　his　Pell　Mells　off　before　him；　when　he　himself　would　be　having　the　one　chance　of　his　day；　that；　sooner　than　pay　the　ninepence　which　the　bootmaker　had　proposed　to　charge　for　resoling　him；　he　would　wait　until　the　summer　came　'low　class　o'　feller'　as　he　was；　he'd　be　glad　enough　to　sole　him　then　for　sixpence

And　the　high…souled　critic；　finding　these　reflections　sordid；　would　have　thought　otherwise；　perhaps；　had　he　been　standing　on　those　feet　（now　twitching　all　by　themselves　beneath　the　bedclothes）　up　to　eleven　o'clock　the　night　before；　because　there　were　still　twelve　numbers　of　the　late　edition　that　nobody　would　buy。　　No　one　knew　m