第 2 节
作者:桃桃逃      更新:2021-02-27 02:10      字数:9322
  service。
  〃Brother     Silas   speaks    well;〃   said  Sister   Parsons;    with   stridulous
  fluency。 〃It's fore…ordained。 Fore…ordinashun is better nor ordinashun; saith
  the Lord。  He shall go   forth; turnin'   neither to the   right hand nor the   left
  hand; and seek Him among the lost tribes and the ungodly。 He shall put
  aside the temptashun of Mammon and the flesh。〃 Her eyes and those of
  Brother Silas here both sought the other female face; which was that of a
  young girl of seventeen。
  〃Wot     sez  little  Sister  Meely;wot     sez  Meely     Parsons?〃    continued
  Brother Silas; as if repeating an unctuous formula。
  The young girl came hesitatingly forward; and with a nervous cry of
  〃Oh; Gideon!〃 threw herself on the breast of the young man。
  For   a  moment      they  remained     locked    in  each   other's  arms。   In  the
  promiscuous and fraternal embracings which were a part of the devotional
  exercises of the hour; the act passed without significance。 The young man
  gently raised her face。 She was young and comely; albeit marked with a
  half…frightened;      half…vacant     sorrow。    〃Amen;〃      said    Brother    Gideon;
  gravely。
  He mounted his horse and turned to go。 Brother Silas had clasped his
  powerful arms around both women and was holding them in a ponderous
  embrace。
  〃Go forth; young man; into the wilderness。〃
  The young   man   bowed his head;  and urged   his   horse   forward in the
  bleak and barren plain。 In half an hour every vestige of the camp and its
  unwholesome surroundings was lost in the distance。 It was as if the strong
  desiccating     wind;   which    seemed     to  spring   up  at  his  horse's   feet;  had
  cleanly erased the flimsy structures from the face of the plain; swept away
  the lighter breath of praise and plaint; and dried up the easy…flowing tears。
  The air was harsh but pure; the grim economy of form and shade and color
  in the level plain was coarse but not vulgar; the sky above him was cold
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  and distant but not repellent; the moisture that had been denied his eyes at
  the prayer…meeting overflowed them here; the words that had choked his
  utterance   an   hour   ago   now   rose   to   his   lips。   He   threw   himself   from   his
  horse; and kneeling in the withered grassa mere atom in the boundless
  plainlifted his pale face against the irresponsive blue and prayed。
  He    prayed     that   the   unselfish    dream     of   his  bitter   boyhood;      his
  disappointed youth; might come to pass。 He prayed that he might in higher
  hands   become   the   humble   instrument   of   good   to   his   fellow…   man。   He
  prayed that the deficiencies of his scant education; his self…taught learning;
  his    helpless    isolation;   and   his   inexperience      might    be   overlooked      or
  reinforced      by   grace。   He    prayed    that   the   Infinite   Compassion       might
  enlighten his ignorance and solitude with a manifestation of the Spirit; in
  his   very   weakness   he   prayed   for   some   special   revelation;   some   sign   or
  token; some visitation or gracious unbending from that coldly lifting sky。
  The   low   sun   burned   the   black   edge   of   the   distant   tules   with   dull   eating
  fires as he prayed; lit the dwarfed hills with a brief but ineffectual radiance;
  and then died out。 The lingering trade winds fired a few volleys over its
  grave and then lapsed into a chilly silence。 The young man staggered to
  his feet; it was quite dark now; but the coming night had advanced a few
  starry vedettes so near the plain they looked like human watch…fires。 For
  an instant he could not remember where he was。 Then a light trembled far
  down at the entrance of the valley。 Brother Gideon recognized it。 It was in
  the lonely farmhouse of the widow of the last Circuit preacher。
  II
  The    abode    of   the  late   Reverend      Marvin     Hiler   remained     in   the
  disorganized   condition   he   had   left   it   when   removed   from   his   sphere   of
  earthly uselessness and continuous accident。 The straggling fence that only
  half inclosed the house and barn had stopped at that point where the two
  deacons who had each volunteered to do a day's work on it had completed
  their  allotted   time。 The  building   of the barn   had been   arrested   when the
  half load of timber contributed by Sugar Mill brethren was exhausted; and
  three    windows       given    by   〃Christian     Seekers〃     at   Martinez     painfully
  accented the boarded spaces for the other three that 〃Unknown Friends〃 in
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  Tasajara had promised but not yet supplied。 In the clearing some trees that
  had been felled but not taken away added to the general incompleteness。
  Something of this unfinished character clung to the Widow Hiler and
  asserted    itself  in  her   three  children;    one   of  whom     was   consistently
  posthumous。   Prematurely   old   and   prematurely   disappointed;   she   had   all
  the inexperience of girlhood with the cares of maternity; and kept in her
  family circle the freshness of an old maid's misogynistic antipathies with a
  certain guilty and remorseful consciousness of widowhood。 She supported
  the meagre household to which her husband had contributed only the extra
  mouths to feed with reproachful astonishment and weary incapacity。 She
  had long since grown tired of trying to make both ends meet; of which she
  declared 〃the Lord had taken one。〃 During her two years' widowhood she
  had waited on Providence; who by a pleasing local fiction had been made
  responsible     for  the  disused   and   cast…off   furniture  and   clothing   which;
  accompanied with scriptural texts; found their way mysteriously into her
  few   habitable   rooms。  The   providential   manna   was   not   always   fresh;   the
  ravens who fed her and her little ones with flour from the Sugar Mills did
  not always select the best quality。 Small wonder that; sitting by her lonely
  hearthstone;a      borrowed      stove    that   supplemented        the   unfinished
  fireplace; surrounded by her mismatched furniture and clad in misfitting
  garments; she had contracted a habit of sniffling during her dreary watches。
  In her weaker moments she attributed it to grief; in her stronger intervals
  she knew that it sprang from damp and draught。
  In her apathy the sound of horses' hoofs at her unprotected door even
  at that hour neither surprised nor alarmed her。 She lifted her head as the
  door opened and the pale face of Gideon Deane looked into the room。 She
  moved aside the cradle she was rocking; and; taking a saucepan and tea…
  cup from a chair beside her; absently dusted it with her apron; and pointing
  to the vacant seat said; 〃Take a chair;〃 as quietly as if he had stepped from
  the next room instead of the outer darkness。
  〃I'll put up my horse first;〃 said Gideon gently。
  〃So do;〃 responded the widow briefly。
  Gideon led his horse across the inclosure; stumbling over the heaps of
  rubbish;    dried   chips;  and   weather…beaten      shavings    with   which    it  was
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  strewn;     until   he   reached    the   unfinished     barn;   where     he  temporarily
  bestowed his beast。 Then taking a rusty axe; by the faint light of the stars;
  he attacked one of the fallen trees with such energy that at the end of ten
  minutes he reappeared at the door with an armful of cut boughs and chips;
  which he quietly deposited behind the stove。 Observing that he was still
  standing as if looking for something; the widow lifted her eyes and said;
  〃Ef it's the bucket; I reckon ye'll find it at the spring; where one of them
  foolish Filgee boys left it。 I've been that tuckered out sens sundown; I ain't
  had the ambition to go and tote it back。〃 Without a word Gideon repaired
  to the spring; filled the missing bucket; replaced the hoop on the loosened
  staves of another he found lying useless beside it; and again returned to the
  house。 The widow once more pointed to the chair; and Gideon sat down。
  〃It's quite a spell sens you wos here;〃 said the Widow Hiler; returning her
  foot   to   the   cradle…rocker;   〃not   sens   yer   was   ordained。   Be'n   practicin';   I
  reckon; at the meetin'。〃
  A   slight   color   came   into   his   cheek。   〃My   place   is   not   there;   Sister
  Hiler;〃   he   said   gently;   〃it's   for   those   with   the   gift   o'   tongues。   I  go   forth
  only   a   common   labo