the woman-haters-第16部分

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still　wanted　it。

〃You　may　change　your　mind　by　that　time；〃　observed　Seth。　　〃This　ain't
no　place　for　a　chap　with　your　trainin'；　and　I　know　it。　　It　does　well
enough　for　an　old　derelict　like　me；　with　nobody　to　care　a　hang
whether　he　lives　or　dies；　but　you're　different。　　And　even　for　me　the
lonesomeness　of　it　drives　me　'most　crazy　sometimes。　　I've　noticed
you've　been　havin'　blue　streaks　more　often　than　when　you　first　came。
I　cal'late　that　by　fall　you'll　be　headin'　somewheres　else；　Mr。　'John
Brown；'〃　with　significant　emphasis　upon　the　name。

Brown　stoutly　denied　being　〃bluer〃　than　usual；　and　his　superior　did
not　press　the　point。　　Seth　busied　himself　in　his　spare　time　with　the
work　on　the　Daisy　M。　and　with　his　occasional　trips　behind　Joshua　to
the　village。　　Brown　might　have　made　some　of　these　trips；　but　he　did
not　care　to。　　Solitude　and　seclusion　he　still　desired；　and　there
were　more　of　these　than　anything　else　at　the　Twin…Lights。

The　lightkeeper　experimented　with　no　more　dogs；　but　he　had　evidently
not　forgotten　the　lifesaving　man's　warning　concerning　possible
thieves；　for　he　purchased　a　big　spring…lock　in　Eastboro　and　attached
it　to　the　door　of　the　boathouse　on　the　little　wharf。　　The　lock　was；
at　first；　a　good　deal　more　of　a　nuisance　than　an　advantage；　for　the
key　was　always　being　forgotten　or　mislaid；　and；　on　one　occasion；　the
door　blew　shut　with　Atkins　inside　the　building；　and　he　pounded　and
shrieked　for　ten　minutes　before　his　helper　heard　him　and　descended
to　the　rescue。

June　crawled　by；　and　July　came。　　Crawled　is　the　proper　word；　for
John　Brown　had　never　known　days　so　long　or　weeks　so　unending　as
those　of　that　early　summer。　　The　monotony　was　almost　never　broken；
and　he　began　to　find　it　deadly。　　He　invented　new　duties　about　the
lights　and　added　swimming　and　walks　up　and　down　the　beach　to　his
limited　list　of　recreations。

The　swimming　he　especially　enjoyed。　　The　cove　made　a　fine　bathing
place；　and　the　boathouse　was　his　dressing　room；　though　the　fragrance
of　the　ancient　fish　nets　stored　within　it　was　not　that　of　attar　of
roses。　　A　cheap　bathing　suit　was　one　of　the　luxuries　Atkins　had
bought　for　him；　by　request；　in　Eastboro。　　Seth　bought　the　suit　under
protest；　for　he　scoffed　openly　at　his　helper's　daily　bath。

〃I　should　think；〃　the　lightkeeper　declared　over　and　over　again；
〃that　you'd　had　salt　water　soak　enough　to　last　you　for　one　spell；　a
feller　that　come　as　nigh　drownin'　as　you　done！〃

Seth　did　not　care　for　swimming；　the　washtub　every　Saturday　night
furnished　him　with　baths　sufficient。

He　was　particular　to　warn　his　helper　against　the　tide　in　the　inlet：
〃The　cove's　all　right；〃　he　said；　〃but　you　want　to　look　out　and　not
try　to　swim　in　the　crick　where　it's　narrow；　or　in　that　deep　hole　by
the　end　of　the　wharf；　where　the　lobster　car's　moored。　　When　the
tide's　comin'　in　or　it's　dead　high　water；　the　current's　strong
there。　　On　the　ebb　it'll　snake　you　out　into　the　breakers　sure　as　I'm
settin'　here　tellin'　you。　　The　cove's　all　right　and　good　and　safe；
but　keep　away　from　the　narrer　part　of　the　crick。〃

Swimming　was　good　fun；　and　walking；　on　pleasant　days；　was　an　aid　in
shaking　off　depression；　but；　in　spite　of　his　denials　and　his
attempts　at　appearing　contented；　the　substitute　assistant　realized
that　he　was　far　from　that　happy　condition。　　He　did　not　want　to　meet
people；　least　of　all　people　of　his　own　station　in　lifehis　former
station。　　Atkins　was　a　fine　chap；　in　his　way；　but　。　。　。　　Brown　was
lonely　。　。　。　and　when　one　is　lonely；　one　thinks　of　what　might　have
been；　and；　perhaps；　regrets。　　Regrets；　unavailing　regrets；　are　the
poorest　companions　possible。

The　lightkeeper；　too；　seemed　lonely；　which；　considering　his　years　of
experience　in　his　present　situation；　was　odd。　　He　explained　his
loneliness　one　evening　by　observing　that　he　cal'lated　he　missed　the
painting　chaps。

〃What　painting　chaps？〃　asked　Brown。

〃Oh；　them　two　young　fellers　that　always　used　to　come　to　the　cottage
what　you　call　the　bungalowacross　the　cove　there；　the　ones　I　told
you　about。　　They　was　real　friendly；　sociable　young　chaps；　and　I　kind
of　liked　to　have　'em　runnin'　in　and　out。　　Seems　queer　to　have　it
July；　and　they　not　here　to　hail　me　and　come　over　to　borrow　stuff。
And　they　was　forever　settin'　around　under　white　sunshades；　sloppin'
paint　onto　paper。　　I　most　wish　they　hadn't　gone　to　Europe。　　I
cal'late　you'd　have　liked　'em；　too。〃

〃Perhaps；〃　said　the　helper；　doubtfully。

〃Oh；　you　would；　no　perhaps　about　it。　　It　don't　seem　right　to　see　the
bungalow　all　shuttered　up　and　deserted　this　time　of　year。　　You'd
have　liked　to　meet　them　young　painters；　they　was　your　kind。〃

〃Yes；　I　know。　　Perhaps　that's　why　I　shouldn't　like　to　meet　them。〃

〃Hey？　。　。　。　　Oh；　yes；　yes；　I　see。　　I　never　thought　of　that。　　But
'tain't　likely　they'd　know　you；　they　hailed　from　Boston；　not　New
York。〃

〃How　did　you　know　I　came　from　New　York？　　I　didn't　tell　you　that。〃

〃No；　you　didn't；　that's　a　fact。　　But；　you　said　you　left　the　city
where　you　lived　and　came　to　Boston；　so　I　sort　of　guessed　New　York。
But　that's　all　right；　I　don't　know　and　I　don't　care。　　Names　and
places　you　and　me　might　just　as　well　not　tell；　even　to　each　other。
If　we　don't　tell　them；　we　can　answer　'don't　know'　to　questions　and
tell　the　truth；　hey？〃

One　morning　about　a　week　later；　Brown；　his　dish　washing　and　sweeping
done；　was　busy　in　the　light…room　at　the　top　of　the　right　hand　tower；
polishing　the　brass　of　the　lantern。　　The　curtains　were　drawn　on　the
landward　side；　and　those　toward　the　sea　open。　　Seth；　having　finished
his　night　watching　and　breakfast；　was　audibly　asleep　in　the　house。
Brown　rubbed　and　polished　leisurely；　his　thoughts　far　away；　and　a
frown　on　his　face。　　For　the　thousandth　time　that　week　he　decided
that　he　was　a　loafer　and　a　vagabond；　and　that　it　would　have　been
much　better　for　himself；　and　creation　generally；　if　he　had　never
risen　after　the　plunge　over　the　steamer's　rail。

He　pulled　the　cloth　cover　over　the　glittering　lantern　and　descended
the　iron　stair　to　the　ground　floor。　　When　he　emerged　into　the　open
air；　he　heard　a　sound　which　made　him　start　and　listen。　　The　sound
was　the　distant　rattle　of　wheels　from　the　direction　of　the　village。
Was　another　〃picnic〃　coming？　　He　walked　briskly　to　the　corner　of　the
house　and　peered　down　the　winding　road。　　A　carriage　was　in　sight
certainly；　but　it　was　going；　not　coming。　　He　watched　it　move　further
away　each　moment。　　Someonenot　the　grocer　or　a　tradesmanwas
driving　to　the　village。　　But　where　had　he　been；　and　who　was　he？　　Not
Seth；　for　Seth　was　asleephe　could　hear　him。

The　driver　of　the　carriage；　whoever　he　was；　had　not　visited　the
lights。　　And；　as　Atkins　had　said；　there　was　nowhere　else　to　go　on
that　road。　　Brown；　puzzled；　looked　about　him；　at　the　sea；　the
lights；　the　house；　the　creek；　the　cove；　the　bluff　on　the　other　side
of　the　cove；　the　bungalowah！　the　bungalow！

For　the　door　of　the　bungalow　was　open；　and　one　or　two　of　the
shutters　were　down。　　The　carriage　had　brought　some　person　or　persons
to　the　bungalow　and　left　them　there。　　Instantly；　of　course；　Brown
thought　of　the　artists　from　Boston。　　Probably　they　had　changed　their
minds　and　decided　to　summer　at　Eastboro　after　all。　　His　frown
deepened。

Then；　from　across　the　cove；　from　the　bungalow；　came　a　shrill　scream；
a　feminine　scream。　　The　assistant　started；　scarcely　believing　his
ears。　　Before　he　could　gather　his　wits；　a　stout　woman；　with　a
checked　apron　in　her　hand；　rushed　out　of　the　bungalow　door；　looked
about；　saw　him；　and　waved　the　apron　like　a　flag。

〃Hi！〃　she　screamed。　　〃Hi；　you！　　Mr。　Lighthouseman！　come　quick！　do
please　come　here　quick　and　help　us！〃

There　was　but　one　thing　to　do；　and　Brown　did　it　instinctively。　　He
raced　through　the　beach　grass；　down　the　hill；　in　obedience　to　the
call。　　As　he　ran；　he　wondered　who　on　earth　the　stout　woman　could　be。
Seth　had　said　that　the　artists　did　their　own　housekeeping。

〃Hurry　up！〃　shrieked　the　stout　woman；　dancing　an　elephantine
fandango　in　front　of　the　bungalow。　　〃Come　ON！〃

To　run　around　the　shore　line　of　the　cove　would　have　taken　a　good
deal　of　time。　　However；　had　the　tide　been　at　flood　there　would　have
been　no　other　wayexcepting　by　boatto　reach　the　cottage。　　But　the
tide　was　out；　and　the　narrowest　portion　of　the　creek；　the　stream
connecting　the　cove　with　the　ocean；　was　but　knee　deep。　　Through　the
water　splashed　the　substitute　assistant　and　clambered　up　the　bank
beyond。

〃Quick！〃　screamed　the　woman。　　〃They'll　eat　us　alive！〃

〃Who？　　What？〃　panted　Brown。

〃Wasps！　　They're　in　there！　　The　room's　full　of　'em。　　If　there's　one
thing　on　earth　I'm　scart　of；　it's　。　。　。　　Don't　stop　to　talk！　　Go　IN！〃

She　indicated　the　door　of　a　room　adjoining　the　living　room　of　the
little　cottage。　　From　behind　the　door　came　sounds　of　upsetting
furniture　and　sharp　slaps。　　Evidently　the　artists　were　having　a
lively　time。　　But　they　must　be　curious　chaps　to　be　afraid　of　wasps。
Brown　opened　the　door　and　entered；　partly　of　his　own　volition；
partly　because　he　was　pushed　by　the　stout　woman。　　Then　he　gasped　in
astonishment。

The　wasps　were　there；　dozens　of　them；　and　they　had　built　a　nest　in
the　upper　corner　of　the　room。　　But　they　were　not　the　astonishing
part　of　the　picture。　　A　young　woman　was　there；　also；　a　young　woman
with　dark　hair　and　eyes；　the　sleeves　of　a　white　shirtwaist　rolled
above　her　elbows；　and　a　wet　towel　in　her　right　hand。　　She　was
skipping　lightly　about　the　room；　slapping　frantically　at　the　humming
insects。

〃Mrs。　Bascom；〃　she　panted；　〃don't　stand　there　screaming。　　Get
another　towel　and〃

Then　she　turned　and　saw　Brown。　　For　an　instant　she；　too；　seemed
astonished。　　But　only　for　an　instant。

〃Oh；　I'm　so　glad　you　came！〃　she　exclaimed。　　〃Here！　take　this！　you
must　hit　quick　and　HARD。〃

〃This〃　was　the　towel。　　The　assistant　took　it　mechanically。　　The
young　lady　did　not　wait　to　give　further　orders。　　She　rushed　out　of
the　room　and　shut　the　door。　　Brown　was　alone　with　the　wasps；　and
they　were　lively　company。　　When；　at　last；　the　battle　was　over；　the
last　wasp　was　dead；　the　nest　was　a　crumpled　gray　heap　over　in　the
corner；　and　the　assistant's　brow　was　ornamented　with　four　red　and
smarting　punctures；　which　promised　to　shortly　become　picturesque　an