manalive-第29章

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of　criminal　per…versities；　and　when　not　considered　narrowly；
but　in　the　light　of　induction　and　evolution〃

〃At　this　late　stage；〃　said　Michael　Moon　very　quietly；　〃I　may　perhaps
relieve　myself　of　a　simple　emotion　that　has　been　pressing　me
throughout　the　proceedings；　by　saying　that　induction　and　evolution
may　go　and　boil　themselves。　　The　Missing　Link　and　all　that　is
well　enough　for　kids；　but　I'm　talking　about　things　we　know　here。
All　we　know　of　the　Missing　Link　is　that　he　is　missingand　he　won't
be　missed　either。　　I　know　all　about　his　human　head　and　his　horrid　tail；
they　belong　to　a　very　old　game　called　‘Heads　I　win；　tails　you　lose。'
If　you　do　find　a　fellow's　bones；　it　proves　he　lived　a　long　while　ago；
if　you　don't　find　his　bones；　it　proves　how　long　ago　he　lived。
That　is　the　game　you've　been　playing　with　this　Smith　affair。
Because　Smith's　head　is　small　for　his　shoulders　you　call
him　microcephalous；　if　it　had　been　large；　you'd　have　called　it
water…on…the…brain。　As　long　as　poor　old　Smith's　seraglio　seemed
pretty　various；　variety　was　the　sign　of　madness：　　now；　because　it's
turning　out　to　be　a　bit　monochromenow　monotony　is　the　sign　of　madness。
I　suffer　from　all　the　disadvantages　of　being　a　grown…up　person；
and　I'm　jolly　well　going　to　get　some　of　the　advantages　too；
and　with　all　politeness　I　propose　not　to　be　bullied　with　long　words
instead　of　short　reasons；　or　consider　your　business　a　triumphant
progress　merely　because　you're　always　finding　out　that　you　were　wrong。
Having　relieved　myself　of　these　feelings；　I　have　merely　to　add
that　I　regard　Dr。　Pym　as　an　ornament　to　the　world　far　more　beautiful
than　the　Parthenon；　or　the　monument　on　Bunker's　Hill；　and　that　I
propose　to　resume　and　conclude　my　remarks　on　the　many　marriages
of　Mr。　Innocent　Smith。

〃Besides　this　red　hair；　thee　is　another　unifying　thread　that
runs　through　these　scattered　incidents。　　There　is　something
very　peculiar　and　suggestive　about　the　names　of　these　women。
Mr。　Trip；　you　will　remember；　said　he　thought　the　typewriter's
name　was　Blake；　but　could　not　remember　exactly。
I　suggest　that　it　might　have　been　Black；　and　in　that　case　we
have　a　curious　series：　　Miss　Green　in　Lady　Bullingdon's　village；
Miss　Brown　at　the　Hendon　School；　Miss　Black　at　the　publishers。
A　chord　of　colours；　as　it　were；　which　ends　up　with　Miss　Gray
at　Beacon　House；　West　Hampstead。〃

Amid　a　dead　silence　Moon　continued　his　exposition。
〃What　is　the　meaning　of　this　queer　coincidence　about　colours？
Personally　I　cannot　doubt　for　a　moment　that　these　names　are　purely
arbitrary　names；　assumed　as　part　of　some　general　scheme　or　joke。
I　think　it　very　probably　that　they　were　taken　from　a　series　of　costumes
that　Polly　Green　only　meant　Polly　（or　Mary）　when　in　green；
and　that　Mary　Gray　only　means　Mary　（or　Polly）　when　in　gray。
This　would　explain〃

Cyrus　Pym　was　standing　up　rigid　and　almost　pallid。
〃Do　you　actually　mean　to　suggest〃　he　cried。

〃Yes；〃　said　Michael；　〃I　do　mean　to　suggest　that。　　Innocent　Smith　has　had
many　wooings；　and　many　weddings　for　all　I　know；　but　he　has　had　only　one　wife。
She　was　sitting　on　that　chair　an　hour　ago；　and　is　now　talking　to　Miss　Duke
in　the　garden。

〃Yes；　Innocent　Smith　has　behaved　here；　as　he　has　on　hundreds　of
other　occasions；　upon　a　plain　and　perfectly　blameless　principle。
It　is　odd　and　extravagant　in　the　modern　world；　but　not　more　than　any　other
principle　plainly　applied　in　the　modern　world　would　be。　　His　principle
can　be　quite　simply　stated：　　he　refuses　to　die　while　he　is　still　alive。
He　seeks　to　remind　himself；　by　every　electric　shock　to　the　intellect；
that　he　is　still　a　man　alive；　walking　on　two　legs　about　the　world。
For　this　reason　he　fires　bullets　at　his　best　friends；　for　this　reason
he　arranges　ladders　and　collapsible　chimneys　to　steal　his　own　property；
for　this　reason　he　goes　plodding　around　a　whole　planet　to　get　back　to　his
own　home；　and　for　this　reason　he　has　been　in　the　habit　of　taking　the　woman
whom　he　loved　with　a　permanent　loyalty；　and　leaving　her　about　（so　to　speak）
at　schools；　boarding…houses；　and　places　of　business；　so　that　he　might
recover　her　again　and　again　with　a　raid　and　a　romantic　elopement。
He　seriously　sought　by　a　perpetual　recapture　of　his　bride　to　keep　alive
the　sense　of　her　perpetual　value；　and　the　perils　that　should　be　run
for　her　sake。

〃So　far　his　motives　are　clear　enough；　but　perhaps　his　convictions　are
not　quite　so　clear。　　I　think　Innocent　Smith　has　an　idea　at　the　bottom
of　all　this。　　I　am　by　no　means　sure　that　I　believe　it　myself；　but　I　am
quite　sure　that　it　is　worth　a　man's　uttering　and　defending。

〃The　idea　that　Smith　is　attacking　is　this。　　Living　in　an　entangled
civilization；　he　have　come　to　think　certain　things　wrong　which　are
not　wrong　at　all。　　We　have　come　to　think　outbreak　and　exuberance；
banging　and　barging；　rotting　and　wrecking；　wrong。　　In　themselves　they
are　not　merely　pardonable；　they　are　unimpeachable。　　There　is　nothing
wicked　about　firing　a　pistol　off　even　at　a　friend；　so　long　as　you　do　not
mean　to　hit　him　and　know　you　won't。　It　is　no　more　wrong　than　throwing
a　pebble　at　the　sealess；　for　you　do　occasionally　hit　the　sea。
There　is　nothing　wrong　in　bashing　down　a　chimney…pot　and　breaking
through　a　roof；　so　long　as　you　are　not　injuring　the　life　or　property
of　other　men。　　It　is　no　more　wrong　to　choose　to　enter　a　house　from
the　top　than　to　choose　to　open　a　packing…case　from　the　bottom。
There　is　nothing　wicked　about　walking　round　the　world　and　coming　back
to　your　own　house；　it　is　no　more　wicked　than　walking　round　the　garden
and　coming　back　to　your　own　house。　　And　there　is　nothing　wicked
about　picking　up　your　wife　here；　there；　and　everywhere；　if；　forsaking
all　others；　you　keep　only　to　her　so　long　as　you　both　shall　live。
It　is　as　innocent　as　playing　a　game　of　hide…and…seek　in　the　garden。
You　associate　such　acts　with　blackguardism　by　a　mere　snobbish　association；
as　you　think　there　is　something　vaguely　vile　about　going　（or　being
seen　going）　into　a　pawnbroker's　or　a　public…house。　You　think　there
is　something　squalid　and　commonplace　about　such　a　connection。
You　are　mistaken。

〃This　man's　spiritual　power　has　been　precisely　this；
that　he　has　distinguished　between　custom　and　creed。
He　has　broken　the　conventions；　but　he　has　kept　the　commandments。
It　is　as　if　a　man　were　found　gambling　wildly　in　a　gambling　hell；
and　you　found　that　he　only　played　for　trouser　buttons。
It　is　as　if　you　found　a　man　making　a　clandestine　appointment
with　a　lady　at　a　Covent　Garden　ball；　and　then　you　found　it
was　his　grandmother。　　Everything　is　ugly　and　discreditable；
except　the　facts；　everything　is　wrong　about　him；　except　that
he　has　done　no　wrong。

〃It　will　then　be　asked；　‘Why　does　Innocent　Smith　continued　far　into　his
middle　age　a　farcical　existence；　that　exposes　him　to　so　many　false　charges？'
To　this　I　merely　answer　that　he　does　it　because　he　really　is　happy；
because　he　really　is　hilarious；　because　he　really　is　a　man　and　alive。
He　is　so　young　that　climbing　garden　trees　and　playing　silly
practical　jokes　are　still　to　him　what　they　once　were　to　us　all。
And　if　you　ask　me　yet　again　why　he　alone　among　men　should　be　fed
with　such　inexhaustible　follies；　I　have　a　very　simple　answer　to　that；
though　it　is　one　that　will　not　be　approved。

〃There　is　but　one　answer；　and　I　am　sorry　if　you　don't　like　it。
If　Innocent　is　happy；　it　is　because　he　IS　innocent。　　If　he　can　defy
the　conventions；　it　is　just　because　he　can　keep　the　commandments。
It　is　just　because　he　does　not　want　to　kill　but　to　excite　to　life
that　a　pistol　is　still　as　exciting　to　him　as　it　is　to　a　schoolboy。
It　is　just　because　he　does　not　want　to　steal；　because　he　does　not　covet
his　neighbour's　goods；　that　he　has　captured　the　trick　（oh；　how　we　all
long　for　it！）；　the　trick　of　coveting　his　own　goods。　　It　is　just　because
he　does　not　want　to　commit　adultery　that　he　achieves　the　romance　of　sex；
it　is　just　because　he　loves　one　wife　that　he　has　a　hundred　honeymoons。
If　he　had　really　murdered　a　man；　if　he　had　really　deserted　a　woman；
he　would　not　be　able　to　feel　that　a　pistol　or　a　love…letter　was　like　a　song
at　least；　not　a　comic　song。〃

〃Do　not　imagine；　please；　that　any　such　attitude　is　easy
to　me　or　appeals　in　any　particular　way　to　my　sympathies。
I　am　an　Irishman；　and　a　certain　sorrow　is　in　my　bones；　bred　either
of　the　persecutions　of　my　creed；　or　of　my　creed　itself。
Speaking　singly；　I　feel　as　if　a　man　was　tied　to　tragedy；
and　there　was　no　way　out　of　the　trap　of　old　age　and　doubt。
But　if　there　is　a　way　out；　then；　by　Christ　and　St。　Patrick；
this　is　the　way　out。　　If　one　could　keep　as　happy　as　a　child　or　a　dog；
it　would　be　by　being　as　innocent　as　a　child；　or　as　sinless　as　a　dog。
Barely　and　brutally　to　be　goodthat　may　be　the　road；
and　he　may　have　found　it。　　Well；　well；　well；　I　see　a　look
of　skepticism　on　the　face　of　my　old　friend　Moses。　　Mr。　Gould
does　not　believe　that　being　perfectly　good　in　all　respects
would　make　a　man　merry。〃

〃No；〃　said　Gould；　with　an　unusual　and　convincing　gravity；
〃I　do　not　believe　that　being　perfectly　good　in　all　respects
would　make　a　man　merry。〃

〃Well；〃　said　Michael　quietly；　〃will　you　tell　me　one　thing？
Which　of　us　has　ever　tried　it？〃

A　silence　ensued；　rather　like　the　silence　of　some　long　geological
epoch　which　awaits　the　emergence　of　some　unexpected　type；
for　there　rose　at　last　in　the　stillness　a　massive　figure
that　the　other　men　had　almost　completely　forgotten。

〃Well；　gentlemen；〃　said　Dr。　Warner　cheerfully；　〃I've　been　pretty
well　entertained　with　all　this　pointless　and　incompetent　tomfoolery
for　a　couple　of　days；　but　it　seems　to　be　wearing　rather　thin；
and　I'm　engaged　for　a　city　dinner。　　Among　the　hundred　flowers
of　futility　on　both　sides　I　was　unable　to　detect　any　sort　of　reason
why　a　lunatic　should　be　allowed　to　shoot　me　in　the　back　garden。〃

He　had　settled　his　silk　hat　on　his　head　and　gone　out　sailing　placidly　to
the　garden　gate；　while　the　almost　wailing　voice　of　Pym　still　followed　him：
〃But　really　the　bullet　missed　you　by　several　feet。〃　　And　another　voice　added：
〃The　bullet　missed　him　by　several　years。〃

There　was　a　long　and　mainly　unmeaning　silence；　and　then
Moon　said　suddenly；　〃We　have　been　sitting　with　a　ghost。
Dr。　Herbert　Warner　died　years　ago。〃





　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Chapter　V

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　How　the　Great　Wind　Went
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　from　Beacon　House


Mary　was　walking　between　Diana　and　Rosamund　slowly　up　and　down　the　garden；
they　were　silent；　and　the　sun　had　set。　　Such　spaces　of　daylight　as　remained
open　in　the　west　were　of　a　warm…tinted　white；　which　can　be　compared
to　nothing　but　a　cream　cheese；　and　the　lines　of　plumy　cloud　that　ran
across　them　had　a　soft　but　vivid　violet　bloom；　like　a　violet　smoke。
All　the　rest　of　the　scene　swept　and　faded　away　into　a　dove…like　gray；
and　seemed　to　melt　and　mount　into　Mary's　dark…gray　figure　until　she　seemed
clothed　with　the　garden　and　the　skies。　　There　was　something　in　these　last
quiet　colours　that　gave　her　a　setting　and　a　supremacy；　and　the　twilight；
which　concealed　Diana's　statelier　figure　and　Rosamund's　braver　array；
exhibited　and　emphasized　her；　leaving　her　the　lady　of　the　garden；　and　alone。

When　they　spoke　at　last　it　was　evident　that　a　conversation　long
fallen　silent　was　be