第 11 节
作者:
飘雪的季节 更新:2023-08-22 20:47 字数:9322
She looked round at him; her eyes very wide open。
〃Your voice is jolly; Sylvia!〃
〃Oh; no!〃
〃It is。 Come and climb a tree!〃
〃Where?〃
〃In the park; of course。〃
They were some time selecting the tree; many being too easy for
him; and many too hard for her; but one was found at last; an oak
of great age; and frequented by rooks。 Then; insisting that she
must be roped to him; he departed to the house for some blind…cord。
The climb began at four o'clocknamed by him the ascent of the
Cimone della Pala。 He led the momentous expedition; taking a hitch
of the blind…cord round a branch before he permitted her to move。
Two or three times he was obliged to make the cord fast and return
to help her; for she was not an 'expert'; her arms seemed soft; and
she was inclined to straddle instead of trusting to one foot。 But
at last they were settled; streaked indeed with moss; on the top
branch but two。 They rested there; silent; listening to the rooks
soothing an outraged dignity。 Save for this slowly subsiding
demonstration it was marvellously peaceful and remote up there;
half…way to a blue sky thinly veiled from them by the crinkled
brown…green leaves。 The peculiar dry mossy smell of an oak…tree
was disturbed into the air by the least motion of their feet or
hands against the bark。 They could hardly see the ground; and all
around; other gnarled trees barred off any view。
He said:
〃If we stay up here till it's dark we might see owls。〃
〃Oh; no! Owls are horrible!〃
〃What! They're LOVELYespecially the white ones。〃
〃I can't stand their eyes; and they squeak so when they're
hunting。〃
〃Oh! but that's so jolly; and their eyes are beautiful。〃
〃They're always catching mice and little chickens; all sorts of
little things。〃
〃But they don't mean to; they only want them to eat。 Don't you
think things are jolliest at night?〃
She slipped her arm in his。
〃No; I don't like the dark。〃
〃Why not? It's splendidwhen things get mysterious。〃 He dwelt
lovingly on that word。
〃I don't like mysterious things。 They frighten you。〃
〃Oh; Sylvia!〃
〃No; I like early morningespecially in spring; when it's
beginning to get leafy。〃
〃Well; of course。〃
She was leaning against him; for safety; just a little; and
stretching out his arm; he took good hold of the branch to make a
back for her。 There was a silence。 Then he said:
〃If you could only have one tree; which would you have?〃
〃Not oaks。 Limesnobirches。 Which would you?〃
He pondered。 There were so many trees that were perfect。 Birches
and limes; of course; but beeches and cypresses; and yews; and
cedars; and holm…oaksalmost; and plane…trees; then he said
suddenly:
〃Pines; I mean the big ones with reddish stems and branches pretty
high up。〃
〃Why?〃
Again he pondered。 It was very important to explain exactly why;
his feelings about everything were concerned in this。 And while he
mused she gazed at him; as if surprised to see anyone think so
deeply。 At last he said:
〃Because they're independent and dignified and never quite cold;
and their branches seem to brood; but chiefly because the ones I
mean are generally out of the common where you find them。 You
knowjust one or two; strong and dark; standing out against the
sky。〃
〃They're TOO dark。〃
It occurred to him suddenly that he had forgotten larches。 They;
of course; could be heavenly; when you lay under them and looked up
at the sky; as he had that afternoon out there。 Then he heard her
say:
〃If I could only have one flower; I should have lilies of the
valley; the small ones that grow wild and smell so jolly。〃
He had a swift vision of another flower; darkvery different; and
was silent。
〃What would you have; Mark?〃 Her voice sounded a little hurt。
〃You ARE thinking of one; aren't you?〃
He said honestly:
〃Yes; I am。〃
〃Which?〃
〃It's dark; too; you wouldn't care for it a bit。〃
〃How d'you know?〃
〃A clove carnation。〃
〃But I do like itonlynot very much。〃
He nodded solemnly。
〃I knew you wouldn't。〃
Then a silence fell between them。 She had ceased to lean against
him; and he missed the cosy friendliness of it。 Now that their
voices and the cawings of the rooks had ceased; there was nothing
heard but the dry rustle of the leaves; and the plaintive cry of a
buzzard hawk hunting over the little tor across the river。 There
were nearly always two up there; quartering the sky。 To the boy it
was lovely; that silencelike Nature talking to youNature always
talked in silences。 The beasts; the birds; the insects; only
really showed themselves when you were still; you had to be awfully
quiet; too; for flowers and plants; otherwise you couldn't see the
real jolly separate life there was in them。 Even the boulders down
there; that old Godden thought had been washed up by the Flood;
never showed you what queer shapes they had; and let you feel close
to them; unless you were thinking of nothing else。 Sylvia; after
all; was better in that way than he had expected。 She could keep
quiet (he had thought girls hopeless); she was gentle; and it was
rather jolly to watch her。 Through the leaves there came the faint
far tinkle of the tea…bell。
She said: 〃We must get down。〃
It was much too jolly to go in; really。 But if she wanted her tea
girls always wanted tea! And; twisting the cord carefully round
the branch; he began to superintend her descent。 About to follow;
he heard her cry:
〃Oh; Mark! I'm stuckI'm stuck! I can't reach it with my foot!
I'm swinging!〃 And he saw that she WAS swinging by her hands and
the cord。
〃Let go; drop on to the branch belowthe cord'll hold you straight
till you grab the trunk。〃
Her voice mounted piteously:
〃I can'tI really can'tI should slip!〃
He tied the cord; and slithered hastily to the branch below her;
then; bracing himself against the trunk; he clutched her round the
waist and knees; but the taut cord held her up; and she would not
come to anchor。 He could not hold her and untie the cord; which
was fast round her waist。 If he let her go with one hand; and got
out his knife; he would never be able to cut and hold her at the
same time。 For a moment he thought he had better climb up again
and slack off the cord; but he could see by her face that she was
getting frightened; he could feel it by the quivering of her body。
〃If I heave you up;〃 he said; 〃can you get hold again above?〃 And;
without waiting for an answer; he heaved。 She caught hold
frantically。
〃Hold on just for a second。〃
She did not answer; but he saw that her face had gone very white。
He snatched out his knife and cut the cord。 She clung just for
that moment; then came loose into his arms; and he hauled her to
him against the trunk。 Safe there; she buried her face on his
shoulder。 He began to murmur to her and smooth her softly; with
quite a feeling of its being his business to smooth her like this;
to protect her。 He knew she was crying; but she let no sound
escape; and he was very careful not to show that he knew; for fear
she should feel ashamed。 He wondered if he ought to kiss her。 At
last he did; on the top of her head; very gently。 Then she put up
her face and said she was a beast。 And he kissed her again on an
eyebrow。
After that she seemed all right; and very gingerly they descended
to the ground; where shadows were beginning to lengthen over the
fern and the sun to slant into their eyes。
XIII
The night after the wedding the boy stood at the window of his
pleasant attic bedroom; with one wall sloping; and a faint smell of
mice。 He was tired and excited; and his brain; full of pictures。
This was his first wedding; and he was haunted by a vision of his
sister's little white form; and her face with its starry eyes。 She
was gonehis no more! How fearful the Wedding March had sounded
on that organthat awful old wheezer; and the sermon! One didn't
want to hear that sort of thing when one felt inclined to cry。
Even Gordy had looked rather boiled when he was giving her away。
With perfect distinctness he could still see the group before the
altar rails; just as if he had not been a part of it himself。 Cis
in her white; Sylvia in fluffy grey; his impassive brother…in…law's
tall figure; Gordy looking queer in a black coat; with a very
yellow face; and eyes still half…closed。 The rotten part of it all
had been that you wanted to be just FEELING; and you had to be
thinking of the ring; and your gloves; and whether the lowest
button of your white waistcoat was properly undone。 Girls could do
both; it seemedCis seemed to be seeing something wonderful all
the time; and Sylvia had looked quite holy。 He himself had been
too conscious of the rector's voice; and the sort of professional
manner with which he did it all; as if he were making up a
prescription; with directions how to take it。 And yet it was all
rather beautiful in a kind of fashion; every face turned one way;
and a tremendous hushexcept for poor old Godden's blowing of his
nose with his enormous red handkerchief; and the soft darkness up
in the roof; and down in the pews; and the sunlight brightening the
South windows。 All the same