michael-第51部分

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〃Michael；　it　isn't　possible　that　you　believe　those　things　of　us？〃　she　said。

He　got　up。

〃Ah；　do　leave　it　alone；　Sylvia；〃　he　said。　　〃I　know　no　more　of　the　truth　or　falsity　of　it　than　you。　　I　have　seen　just　what　you　have　seen　in　the　papers。〃

〃You　don't　feel　the　impossibility　of　it；　then？〃　she　asked。

〃No；　I　don't。　　There　seems　to　have　been　sworn　testimony。　　War　is　a　cruel　thing；　I　hate　it　as　much　as　you。　　When　men　are　maddened　with　war；　you　can't　tell　what　they　would　do。　　They　are　not　the　Germans　you　know；　nor　the　Germans　I　know；　who　did　such　thingsnot　the　people　I　saw　when　I　was　with　Hermann　in　Baireuth　and　Munich　a　year　ago。　　They　are　no　more　the　same　than　a　drunken　man　is　the　same　as　that　man　when　he　is　sober。　　They　are　two　different　people；　drink　has　made　them　different。　　And　war　has　done　the　same　for　Germany。〃

He　held　out　his　hand　to　her。　　She　moved　a　step　back　from　him。

〃Then　you　think；　I　suppose；　that　Hermann　may　be　concerned　in　those　atrocities；〃　she　said。

Michael　looked　at　her　in　amazement。

〃You　are　talking　sheer　nonsense；　Sylvia；〃　he　said。

〃Not　at　all。　　It　is　a　logical　inference；　just　an　application　of　the　principle　you　have　stated。〃

Michael's　instinct　was　just　to　take　her　in　his　arms　and　make　the　final　appeal；　saying；　〃We　love　each　other；　that's　all；〃　but　his　reason　prevented　him。　　Sylvia　had　said　a　monstrous　thing　in　cold　blood；　when　she　suggested　that　he　thought　Hermann　might　be　concerned　in　these　deeds；　and　in　cold　blood；　not　by　appealing　to　her　emotions；　must　she　withdraw　that。

〃I'm　not　going　to　argue　about　it；〃　he　said。　　〃I　want　you　to　tell　me　at　once　that　I　am　right；　that　it　was　sheer　nonsense；　to　put　no　other　name　to　it；　when　you　suggested　that　I　thought　that　of　Hermann。〃

〃Oh；　pray　put　another　name　to　it；〃　she　said。

〃Very　well。　　It　was　a　wanton　falsehood；〃　said　Michael；　〃and　you　know　it。〃

Truly　this　hellish　nightmare　of　war　and　hate　which　had　arisen　brought　with　it　a　brood　not　less　terrible。　　A　day　ago；　an　hour　ago　he　would　have　merely　laughed　at　the　possibility　of　such　a　situation　between　Sylvia　and　himself。　　Yet　here　it　was：　they　were　in　the　middle　of　it　now。

She　looked　up　at　him　flashing　with　indignation；　and　a　retort　as　stinging　as　his　rose　to　her　lips。　　And　then　quite　suddenly；　all　her　anger　went　from　her；　as　her；　heart　told　her；　in　a　voice　that　would　not　be　silenced；　the　complete　justice　of　what　he　had　said；　and　the　appeal　that　Michael　refrained　from　making　was　made　by　her　to　herself。　　Remorse　held　her　on　its　spikes　for　her　abominable　suggestion；　and　with　it　came　a　sense　of　utter　desolation　and　misery；　of　hatred　for　herself　in　having　thus　quietly　and　deliberately　said　what　she　had　said。　　She　could　not　account　for　it；　nor　excuse　herself　on　the　plea　that　she　had　spoken　in　passion；　for　she　had　spoken；　as　he　felt；　in　cold　blood。　　Hence　came　the　misery　in　the　knowledge　that　she　must　have　wounded　Michael　intolerably。

Her　lips　so　quivered　that　when　she　first　tried　to　speak　no　words　would　come。　　That　she　was　truly　ashamed　brought　no　relief；　no　ease　to　her　surrender；　for　she　knew　that　it　was　her　real　self　who　had　spoken　thus　incredibly。　　But　she　could　at　least　disown　that　part　of　her。

〃I　beg　your　pardon；　Michael；〃　she　said。　　〃I　was　atrocious。　　Will　you　forgive　me？　　Because　I　am　so　miserable。〃

He　had　nothing　but　love　for　her；　love　and　its　kinsman　pity。

〃Oh；　my　dear；　fancy　you　asking　that！〃　he　said。

Just　for　the　moment　of　their　reconciliation；　it　seemed　to　both　that　they　came　closer　to　each　other　than　they　had　ever　been　before；　and　the　chance　of　the　need　of　any　such　another　reconciliation　was　impossible　to　the　verge　of　laughableness；　so　that　before　five　minutes　were　past　he　could　make　the　smile　break　through　her　tears　at　the　absurdity　of　the　moment　that　now　seemed　quite　unreal。　　Yet　that　which　was　at　the　root　of　their　temporary　antagonism　was　not　removed　by　the　reconciliation；　at　most　they　had　succeeded　in　cutting　off　the　poisonous　shoot　that　had　suddenly　sprouted　from　it。　The　truth　of　this　in　the　days　that　followed　was　horribly　demonstrated。

It　was　not　that　they　ever　again　came　to　the　spoken　bitterness　of　words；　for　the　sharpness　of　them；　once　experienced；　was　shunned　by　each　of　them；　but　times　without　number　they　had　to　sheer　off；　and　not　approach　the　ground　where　these　poisoned　tendrils　trailed。　　And　in　that　sense　of　having　to　take　care；　to　be　watchful　lest　a　chance　word　should　bring　the　peril　close　to　them；　the　atmosphere　of　complete　ease　and　confidence；　in　which　alone　love　can　flourish；　was　tainted。　　Love　was　there；　but　its　flowers　could　not　expand；　it　could　not　grow　in　the　midst　of　this　bitter　air。　　And　what　made　the　situation　more　and　increasingly　difficult　was　the　fact　that；　next　to　their　love　for　each　other；　the　emotion　that　most　filled　the　mind　of　each　was　this　sense　of　race…antagonism。　　It　was　impossible　that　the　news　of　the　war　should　not　be　mentioned；　for　that　would　have　created　an　intolerable　unreality；　and　all　that　was　in　their　power　was　to　avoid　all　discussion；　to　suppress　from　speech　all　the　feelings　with　which　the　news　filled　them。　　Every　day；　too；　there　came　fresh　stories　of　German　abominations　committed　on　the　Belgians；　and　each　knew　that　the　other　had　seen　them；　and　yet　neither　could　mention　them。　　For　while　Sylvia　could　not　believe　them；　Michael　could　not　help　doing　so；　and　thus　there　was　no　common　ground　on　which　they　could　speak　of　them。　　Often　Mrs。　Falbe；　in　whose　blood；　it　would　seem；　no　sense　of　race　beat　at　all；　would　add　to　the　embarrassment　by　childlike　comments；　saying　at　one　time　in　reference　to　such　things　that　she　made　a　point　of　not　believing　all　she　saw　in　the　newspapers；　or　at　another　ejaculating；　〃Well；　the　Germans　do　seem　to　have　behaved　very　cruelly　again！〃　　But　no　emotion　appeared　to　colour　these　speeches；　while　all　the　emotion　of　the　world　surged　and　bubbled　behind　the　silence　of　the　other　two。

Then　followed　the　darkest　days　that　England　perhaps　had　ever　known；　when　the　German　armies；　having　overcome　the　resistance　of　Belgium；　suddenly　swept　forward　again　across　France；　pushing　before　them　like　the　jetsam　and　flotsam　on　the　rim　of　the　advancing　tide　the　allied　armies。　　Often　in　these　appalling　weeks；　Michael　would　hesitate　as　to　whether　he　should　go　to　see　Sylvia　or　not；　so　unbearable　seemed　the　fact　that　she　did　not　and　could　not　feel　or　understand　what　England　was　going　through。　　So　far　from　blaming　her　for　it；　he　knew　that　it　could　not　be　otherwise；　for　her　blood　called　to　her；　even　as　his　to　him；　while　somewhere　in　the　onrush　of　those　advancing　and　devouring　waves　was　her　brother；　with　whom；　so　it　had　often　seemed　to　him；　she　was　one　soul。　　Thus；　while　in　that　his　whole　sympathy　and　whole　comprehension　of　her　love　was　with　him；　there　was　as　well　all　that　deep；　silent　English　patriotism　of　which　till　now　he　had　scarcely　been　conscious；　praying　with　mute　entreaty　that　disaster　and　destruction　and　defeat　might　overwhelm　those　advancing　hordes。　　Once；　when　the　anxiety　and　peril　were　at　their　height；　he　made　up　his　mind　not　to　see　her　that　day；　and　spent　the　evening　by　himself。　　But　later；　when　he　was　actually　on　his　way　to　bed；　he　knew　he　could　not　keep　away　from　her；　and　though　it　was　already　midnight；　he　drove　down　to　Chelsea；　and　found　her　sitting　up；　waiting　for　the　chance　of　his　coming。

For　a　moment；　as　she　greeted　him　and　he　kissed　her　silently；　they　escaped　from　the　encompassing　horror。

〃Ah；　you　have　come；〃　she　said。　　〃I　thought　perhaps　you　might。　　I　have　wanted　you　dreadfully。〃

The　roar　of　artillery；　the　internecine　strife　were　still。　　Just　for　a　few　seconds　there　was　nothing　in　the　world　for　him　but　her；　nor　for　her　anything　but　him。

〃I　couldn't　go　to　bed　without　just　seeing　you；〃　he　said。　　〃I　won't　keep　you　up。〃

They　stood　with　hands　clasped。

〃But　if　you　hadn't　come；　Michael；〃　she　said；　〃I　should　have　understood。〃

And　then　the　roar　and　the　horror　began　again。　　Her　words　were　the　simplest；　the　most　directly　spoken　to　him；　yet　could　not　but　evoke　the　spectres　that　for　the　moment　had　vanished。　　She　had　meant　to　let　her　love　for　him　speak；　it　had　spoken；　and　instantly　through　the　momentary　sunlight　of　it；　there　loomed　the　fierce　and　enormous　shadow。　　It　could　not　be　banished　from　their　most　secret　hearts；　even　when　the　doors　were　shut　and　they　were　alone　together　thus；　it　made　its　entrance；　ghost…like；　terrible；　and　all　love's　bolts　and　bars　could　not　keep　it　out。　　Here　was　the　tragedy　of　it；　that　they　could　not　stand　embraced　with　clasped　hands　and　look　at　it　together　and　so　rob　it　of　its　terrors；　for；　at　the　sight　of　it；　their　hands　were　loosened　from　each　other's；　and　in　its　presence　they　were　forced　to　stand　apart。　　In　his　heart；　as　surely　as　he　knew　her　love；　Michael　knew　that　this　great　shadow　under　which　England　lay　was　shot　with　sunlight　for　Sylvia；　that　the　anxiety；　the　awful　suspense　that　made　his　fingers　cold　as　he　opened　the　daily　papers；　brought　into　it　to　her　an　echo　of　victorious　music　that　beat　to　the　tramp　of　advancing　feet　that　marched　ever　forward　leaving　the　glittering　Rhine　leagues　upon　leagues　in　their　rear。　　The　Bavarian　corps　in　which　Hermann　served　was　known　to　be　somewhere　on　the　Western　front；　for　the　Emperor　had　addressed　them　ten　days　before　on　their　departure　from　Munich；　and　Sylvia　and　Michael　were　both　aware　of　that。　　But　they　who　loved　Hermann　best　could　not　speak　of　it　to　each　other；　and　the　knowledge　of　it　had　to　be　hidden　in　silence；　as　if　it　had　been　some　guilty　secret　in　which　they　were　the　terrified　accomplices；　instead　of　its　being　a　bond　of　love　which　bound　them　both　to　Hermann。

In　addition　to　the　national　anxiety；　there　was　the　suspense　of　those　whose　sons　and　husbands　and　fathers　were　in　the　fighting　line。　　Columns　of　casualty　lists　were　published；　and　each　name　appearing　there　was　a　sword　that　pierced　a　home。　　One　such　list；　published　early　in　September；　was　seen　by　Michael　as　he　drove　down　on　Sunday　morning　to　spend　the　rest　of　the　day　with　Sylvia；　and　the　first　name　that　he　read　there　was　that　of　Francis。　　For　a　moment；　as　he　remembered　afterwards；　the　print　had　danced　before　his　eyes；　as　if　seen　through　the　quiver　of　hot　air。　　Then　it　settled　down　and　he　saw　it　clearly。

He　turned　and　drove　back　to　his　rooms　in　Half　Moon　Street；　feeling　that　strang