fraternity-第41部分

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CHAPTER　XXXI

SWAN　SONG

The　new　wine；　if　it　does　not　break　the　old　bottle；　after　fierce　effervescence　seethes　and　bubbles　quietly。

It　was　so　in　Mr。　Stone's　old　bottle；　hour　by　hour　and　day　by　day；　throughout　the　month。　　A　pinker；　robuster　look　came　back　to　his　cheeks；　his　blue　eyes；　fixed　on　distance；　had　in　them　more　light；　his　knees　regained　their　powers；　he　bathed；　and；　all　unknown　to　him；　for　he　only　saw　the　waters　he　cleaved　with　his　ineffably　slow　stroke；　Hilary　and　Martin；　on　alternate　weeks；　and　keeping　at　a　proper　distance；　for　fear　he　should　see　them　doing　him　a　service；　attended　at　that　function　in　case　Mr。　Stone　should　again　remain　too　long　seated　at　the　bottom　of　the　Serpentine。　　Each　morning　after　his　cocoa　and　porridge　he　could　be　heard　sweeping　out　his　room　with　extraordinary　vigour；　and　as　ten　o'clock　came　near　anyone　who　listened　would　remark　a　sound　of　air　escaping；　as　he　moved　up　and　down　on　his　toes　in　preparation　for　the　labours　of　the　day。　　No　letters；　of　course；　nor　any　newspapers　disturbed　the　supreme　and　perfect　self…containment　of　this　life　devoted　to　Fraternityno　letters；　partly　because　he　lacked　a　known　address；　partly　because　for　years　he　had　not　answered　them；　and　with　regard　to　newspapers；　once　a　month　he　went　to　a　Public　Library；　and　could　be　seen　with　the　last　four　numbers　of　two　weekly　reviews　before　him；　making　himself　acquainted　with　the　habits　of　those　days；　and　moving　his　lips　as　though　in　prayer。　　At　ten　each　morning　anyone　in　the　corridor　outside　his　room　was　startled　by　the　whirr　of　an　alarum　clock；　perfect　silence　followed；　then　rose　a　sound　of　shuffling；　whistling；　rustling；　broken　by　sharply　muttered　words；　soon　from　this　turbid　lake　of　sound　the　articulate；　thin　fluting　of　an　old　man's　voice　streamed　forth。　　This；　alternating　with　the　squeak　of　a　quill　pen；　went　on　till　the　alarum　clock　once　more　went　off。　　Then　he　who　stood　outside　could　smell　that　Mr。　Stone　would　shortly　eat；　if；　stimulated　by　that　scent；　he　entered；　he　might　see　the　author　of　the　〃Book　of　Universal　Brotherhood〃　with　a　baked　potato　in　one　hand　and　a　cup　of　hot　milk　in　the　other；　on　the　table；　too；　the　ruined　forms　of　eggs；　tomatoes；　oranges；　bananas；　figs；　prunes；　cheese；　and　honeycomb；　which　had　passed　into　other　forms　already；　together　with　a　loaf　of　wholemeal　bread。　　Mr。　Stone　would　presently　emerge　in　his　cottage…　woven　tweeds；　and　old　hat　of　green…black　felt；　or；　if　wet；　in　a　long　coat　of　yellow　gaberdine；　and　sou'wester　cap　of　the　same　material；　but　always　with　a　little　osier　fruit…bag　in　his　hand。　　Thus　equipped；　he　walked　down　to　Rose　and　Thorn's；　entered；　and　to　the　first　man　he　saw　handed　the　osier　fruit…bag；　some　coins；　and　a　little　book　containing　seven　leaves；　headed　〃Food：　Monday；　Tuesday；　Wednesday；〃　and　so　forth。　　He　then　stood　looking　through　the　pickles　in　some　jar　or　other　at　things　beyond；　with　one　hand　held　out；　fingers　upwards；　awaiting　the　return　of　his　little　osier　fruit…bag。　　Feeling。　presently　that　it　had　been　restored　to　him；　he　would　turn　and　walk　out　of　the　shop。　　Behind　his　back；　on　the　face　of　the　department；　the　same　protecting　smile　always　rose。　　Long　habit　had　perfected　it。　　All　now　felt　that；　though　so　very　different　from　themselves；　this　aged　customer　was　dependent　on　them。　　By　not　one　single　farthing　or　one　pale　slip　of　cheese　would　they　have　defrauded　him　for　all　the　treasures　of　the　moon；　and　any　new　salesman　who　laughed　at　that　old　client　was　promptly　told　to　〃shut　his　head。〃

Mr。　Stone's　frail　form；　bent　somewhat　to　one　side　by　the　increased　gravamen　of　the　osier　bag；　was　now　seen　moving　homewards。　　He　arrived　perhaps　ten　minutes　before　the　three　o'clock　alarum；　and　soon　passing　through　preliminary　chaos；　the　articulate；　thin　fluting　of　his　voice　streamed　forth　again；　broken　by　the　squeaking　and　spluttering　of　his　quill。

But　towards　four　o'clock　signs　of　cerebral　excitement　became　visible；　his　lips　would　cease　to　utter　sounds；　his　pen　to　squeak。　　His　face；　with　a　flushed　forehead；　would　appear　at　the　open　window。　　As　soon　as　the　little　model　came　in　sighther　eyes　fixed；　not　on　his　window；　but　on　Hilary'she　turned　his　back；　evidently　waiting　for　her　to　enter　by　the　door。　　His　first　words　were　uttered　in　a　tranquil　voice：　〃I　have　several　pages。　　I　have　placed　your　chair。　　Are　you　ready？　Follow！〃

Except　for　that　strange　tranquillity　of　voice　and　the　disappearance　of　the　flush　on　his　brow；　there　was　no　sign　of　the　rejuvenescence　that　she　brought；　of　such　refreshment　as　steals　on　the　traveller　who　sits　down　beneath　a　lime…tree　toward　the　end　of　along　day's　journey；　no　sign　of　the　mysterious　comfort　distilled　into　his　veins　by　the　sight　of　her　moody　young　face；　her　young；　soft　limbs。　　So　from　some　stimulant　men　very　near　their　end　will　draw　energy；　watching；　as　it　were；　a　shape　beckoning　them　forward；　till　suddenly　it　disappears　in　darkness。

In　the　quarter　of　an　hour　sacred　to　their　tea　and　conversation　he　never　noticed　that　she　was　always　listening　for　sounds　beyond；　it　was　enough　that　in　her　presence　he　felt　singleness　of　purpose　strong　within　him。

When　she　had　gone；　moving　languidly；　moodily　away；　her　eyes　darting　about　for　signs　of　Hilary；　Mr。　Stone　would　sit　down　rather　suddenly　and　fall　asleep；　to　dream；　perhaps；　of　YouthYouth　with　its　scent　of　sap；　its　close　beckonings；　Youth　with　its　hopes　and　fears；　Youth　that　hovers　round　us　so　long　after　it　is　dead！　　His　spirit　would　smile　behind　its　coveringthat　thin　china　of　his　face；　and；　as　dogs　hunting　in　their　sleep　work　their　feet；　so　he　worked　the　fingers　resting　on　his　woollen　knees。

The　seven　o'clock　alarum　woke　him　to　the　preparation　of　the　evening　meal。　　This　eaten；　he　began　once　more　to　pace　up　and　down；　to　pour　words　out　into　the　silence；　and　to　drive　his　squeaking　quill。

So　was　being　written　a　book　such　as　the　world　had　never　seen！

But　the　girl　who　came　so　moodily　to　bring　him　refreshment；　and　went　so　moodily　away；　never　in　these　days　caught　a　glimpse　of　that　which　she　was　seeking。

Since　the　morning　when　he　had　left　her　abruptly；　Hilary　had　made　a　point　of　being　out　in　the　afternoons　and　not　returning　till　past　six　o'clock。　　By　this　device　he　put　off　facing　her　and　himself；　for　he　could　no　longer　refuse　to　see　that　he　had　himself　to　face。　　In　the　few　minutes　of　utter　silence　when　the　girl　sat　beside　him；　magnetic；　quivering　with　awakening　force；　he　had　found　that　the　male　in　him　was　far　from　dead。　　It　was　no　longer　vague；　sensuous　feeling；　it　was　warm；　definite　desire。　　The　more　she　was　in　his　thoughts；　the　less　spiritual　his　feeling　for　this　girl　of　the　people　had　become。

In　those　days　he　seemed　much　changed　to　such　as　knew　him　well。　Instead　of　the　delicate；　detached；　slightly　humorous　suavity　which　he　had　accustomed　people　to　expect　from　him；　the　dry　kindliness　which　seemed　at　once　to　check　confidence　and　yet　to　say；　'If　you　choose　to　tell　me　anything；　I　should　never　think　of　passing　judgment　on　you；　whatever　you　have　done'instead　of　that　rather　abstracted；　faintly　quizzical　air；　his　manner　had　become　absorbed　and　gloomy。　　He　seemed　to　jib　away　from　his　friends。　　His　manner　at　the　〃Pen　and　Ink〃　was　wholly　unsatisfying　to　men　who　liked　to　talk。　　He　was　known　to　be　writing　a　new　book；　they　suspected　him　of　having　〃got　into　a　hat〃　this　Victorian　expression；　found　by　Mr。　Balladyce　in　some　chronicle　of　post…Thackerayan　manners；　and　revived　by　him　in　his　incomparable　way；　as　who　should　say；　'What　delicious　expressions　those　good　bourgeois　had！'　now　flourished　in　second　childhood。

In　truth；　Hilary's　difficulty　with　his　new　book　was　merely　the　one　of　not　being　able　to　work　at　it　at　all。　　Even　the　housemaid　who　〃did〃　his　study　noticed　that　day　after　day　she　was　confronted　by　Chapter　XXIV。；　in　spite　of　her　employer's　staying　in；　as　usual；　every　morning。

The　change　in　his　manner　and　face；　which　had　grown　strained　and　harassed；　had　been　noticed　by　Bianca；　though　she　would　have　died　sooner　than　admit　she　had　noticed　anything　about　him。　　It　was　one　of　those　periods　in　the　lives　of　households　like　an　hour　of　a　late　summer's　daybrooding；　electric；　as　yet　quiescent；　but　charged　with　the　currents　of　coming　storms。

Twice　only　in　those　weeks　while　Hughs　was　in　prison　did　Hilary　see　the　girl。　　Once　he　met　her　when　he　was　driving　home；　she　blushed　crimson　and　her　eyes　lighted　up。　　And　one　morning；　too；　he　passed　her　on　the　bench　where　they　had　sat　together。　　She　was　staring　straight　before　her；　the　corners　of　her　mouth　drooping　discontentedly。　　She　did　not　see　him。


To　a　man　like　Hilary…for　whom　running　after　women　had　been　about　the　last　occupation　in　the　world；　who　had；　in　fact；　always　fought　shy　of　them　and　imagined　that　they　would　always　fight　shy　of　himthere　was　an　unusual　enticement　and　dismay　in　the　feeling　that　a　young　girl　really　was　pursuing　him。　　It　was　at　once　too　good；　too　unlikely；　and　too　embarrassing　to　be　true。　　His　sudden　feeling　for　her　was　the　painful　sensation　of　one　who　sees　a　ripe　nectarine　hanging　within　reach。　　He　dreamed　continually　of　stretching　out　his　hand；　and　so　he　did　not　dare；　or　thought　he　did　not　dare；　to　pass　that　way。　　All　this　did　not　favour　the　tenor　of　a　studious；　introspective　life；　it　also　brought　a　sense　of　unreality　which　made　him　avoid　his　best　friends。　This；　partly；　was　why　Stephen　came　to　see　him　one　Sunday；　his　other　reason　for　the　visit　being　the　calculation　that　Hughs　would　be　released　on　the　following　Wednesday。

'This　girl；'　he　thought；　'is　going　to　the　house　still；　and　Hilary　will　let　things　drift　till　he　can't　stop　them；　and　there'll　be　a　real　mess。'

The　fact　of　the　man's　having　been　in　prison　gave　a　sinister　turn　to　an　affair　regarded　hitherto　as　merely　sordid　by　Stephen's　orderly　and　careful　mind。

Crossing　the　garden；　he　heard　Mr。　Stone's　voice　issuing　through　the　open　window。

'Can't　the　old　crank　stop　even　on　Sundays？'　he　thought。

He　found　Hilary　in　his　study；　reading　a　book　on　the　civilisation　of　the　Maccabees；　in　preparation　for　a　review。　　He　gave　Stephen　but　a　dubious　welcome。

Stephen　broke　ground　gently。

〃We　haven't　seen　you　for　an　age。　　I　hear　our　old　friend　at　it。　　Is　he　working　double　tides　to　finish　his　magnum　opus？　　I　thought　he　observed　the　day　of　rest。〃

〃He　does　as　a　rule；〃　said　Hilary。

〃Well；　he's　got　the　g