the door in the wall-第3章

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humiliation　of　that　public　weeping　and　my　disgraceful　homecoming

remain　with　me　still。　　I　see　again　the　benevolent…looking　old

gentleman　in　gold　spectacles　who　stopped　and　spoke　to　meprodding

me　first　with　his　umbrella。　　'Poor　little　chap；'　said　he；　'and　are

you　lost　then？'and　me　a　London　boy　of　five　and　more！　　And　he　must

needs　bring　in　a　kindly　young　policeman　and　make　a　crowd　of　me；　and

so　march　me　home。　　Sobbing；　conspicuous　and　frightened；　I　came　from

the　enchanted　garden　to　the　steps　of　my　father's　house。



〃That　is　as　well　as　I　can　remember　my　vision　of　that

gardenthe　garden　that　haunts　me　still。　　Of　course；　I　can　convey

nothing　of　that　indescribable　quality　of　translucent　unreality；

that　difference　from　the　common　things　of　experience　that　hung

about　it　all；　but　thatthat　is　what　happened。　　If　it　was　a　dream；

I　am　sure　it　was　a　day…time　and　altogether　extraordinary　dream　。　。

。　。　。　。　　H'm！naturally　there　followed　a　terrible　questioning；　by

my　aunt；　my　father；　the　nurse；　the　governesseveryone　。　。　。　。　。　。



〃I　tried　to　tell　them；　and　my　father　gave　me　my　first

thrashing　for　telling　lies。　　When　afterwards　I　tried　to　tell　my

aunt；　she　punished　me　again　for　my　wicked　persistence。　　Then；　as　I

said；　everyone　was　forbidden　to　listen　to　me；　to　hear　a　word　about

it。　　Even　my　fairy　tale　books　were　taken　away　from　me　for　a

timebecause　I　was　'too　imaginative。'　Eh？　　Yes；　they　did　that！　　My

father　belonged　to　the　old　school　。　。　。　。　。　And　my　story　was　driven

back　upon　myself。　　I　whispered　it　to　my　pillowmy　pillow　that　was

often　damp　and　salt　to　my　whispering　lips　with　childish　tears。　　And

I　added　always　to　my　official　and　less　fervent　prayers　this　one

heartfelt　request：　'Please　God　I　may　dream　of　the　garden。　　Oh！　take

me　back　to　my　garden！　　Take　me　back　to　my　garden！'



〃I　dreamt　often　of　the　garden。　　I　may　have　added　to　it；　I　may

have　changed　it；　I　do　not　know　。　。　。　。　。　　All　this　you　understand

is　an　attempt　to　reconstruct　from　fragmentary　memories　a　very　early

experience。　　Between　that　and　the　other　consecutive　memories　of　my

boyhood　there　is　a　gulf。　　A　time　came　when　it　seemed　impossible　I

should　ever　speak　of　that　wonder　glimpse　again。〃



I　asked　an　obvious　question。



〃No；〃　he　said。　　〃I　don't　remember　that　I　ever　attempted　to

find　my　way　back　to　the　garden　in　those　early　years。　　This　seems

odd　to　me　now；　but　I　think　that　very　probably　a　closer　watch　was

kept　on　my　movements　after　this　misadventure　to　prevent　my　going

astray。　　No；　it　wasn't　until　you　knew　me　that　I　tried　for　the

garden　again。　　And　I　believe　there　was　a　period　incredible　as　it

seems　nowwhen　I　forgot　the　garden　altogetherwhen　I　was　about

eight　or　nine　it　may　have　been。　　Do　you　remember　me　as　a　kid　at

Saint　Athelstan's？〃



〃Rather！〃



〃I　didn't　show　any　signs　did　I　in　those　days　of　having　a　secret　dream？〃





II





He　looked　up　with　a　sudden　smile。



〃Did　you　ever　play　North…West　Passage　with　me？　。　。　。　。　。　　No；

of　course　you　didn't　come　my　way！〃



〃It　was　the　sort　of　game；〃　he　went　on；　〃that　every　imaginative

child　plays　all　day。　　The　idea　was　the　discovery　of　a　North…West

Passage　to　school。　　The　way　to　school　was　plain　enough；　the　game

consisted　in　finding　some　way　that　wasn't　plain；　starting　off　ten

minutes　early　in　some　almost　hopeless　direction；　and　working　one's

way　round　through　unaccustomed　streets　to　my　goal。　　And　one　day　I

got　entangled　among　some　rather　low…class　streets　on　the　other　side

of　Campden　Hill；　and　I　began　to　think　that　for　once　the　game　would

be　against　me　and　that　I　should　get　to　school　late。　　I　tried　rather

desperately　a　street　that　seemed　a　cul　de　sac；　and　found　a

passage　at　the　end。　　I　hurried　through　that　with　renewed　hope。　　'I

shall　do　it　yet；'　I　said；　and　passed　a　row　of　frowsy　little　shops

that　were　inexplicably　familiar　to　me；　and　behold！　there　was　my

long　white　wall　and　the　green　door　that　led　to　the　enchanted

garden！



〃The　thing　whacked　upon　me　suddenly。　　Then；　after　all；　that　garden；

that　wonderful　garden；　wasn't　a　dream！〃　。　。　。　。



He　paused。



〃I　suppose　my　second　experience　with　the　green　door　marks　the

world　of　difference　there　is　between　the　busy　life　of　a　schoolboy

and　the　infinite　leisure　of　a　child。　　Anyhow；　this　second　time　I

didn't　for　a　moment　think　of　going　in　straight　away。　　You　see　。　。

。　　For　one　thing　my　mind　was　full　of　the　idea　of　getting　to　school

in　timeset　on　not　breaking　my　record　for　punctuality。　　I　must

surely　have　felt　SOME　little　desire　at　least　to　try　the

dooryes；　I　must　have　felt　that　。　。　。　。　。　　But　I　seem　to　remember

the　attraction　of　the　door　mainly　as　another　obstacle　to　my

overmastering　determination　to　get　to　school。　　I　was　immediately

interested　by　this　discovery　I　had　made；　of　courseI　went　on　with

my　mind　full　of　itbut　I　went　on。　　It　didn't　check　me。　　I　ran　past

tugging　out　my　watch；　found　I　had　ten　minutes　still　to　spare；　and

then　I　was　going　downhill　into　familiar　surroundings。　　I　got　to

school；　breathless；　it　is　true；　and　wet　with　perspiration；　but　in

time。　　I　can　remember　hanging　up　my　coat　and　hat　。　。　。　Went　right

by　it　and　left　it　behind　me。　　Odd；　eh？〃



He　looked　at　me　thoughtfully。　　〃Of　course；　I　didn't　know　then

that　it　wouldn't　always　be　there。　　School　boys　have　limited

imaginations。　　I　suppose　I　thought　it　was　an　awfully　jolly　thing　to

have　it　there；　to　know　my　way　back　to　it；　but　there　was　the　school

tugging　at　me。　　I　expect　I　was　a　good　deal　distraught　and

inattentive　that　morning；　recalling　what　I　could　of　the　beautiful

strange　people　I　should　presently　see　again。　　Oddly　enough　I　had　no

doubt　in　my　mind　that　they　would　be　glad　to　see　me　。　。　。　Yes；　I

must　have　thought　of　the　garden　that　morning　just　as　a　jolly　sort

of　place　to　which　one　might　resort　in　the　interludes　of　a　strenuous

scholastic　career。



〃I　didn't　go　that　day　at　all。　　The　next　day　was　a　half

holiday；　and　that　may　have　weighed　with　me。　　Perhaps；　too；　my　state

of　inattention　brought　down　impositions　upon　me　and　docked　the

margin　of　time　necessary　for　the　detour。　　I　don't　know。　　What　I　do

know　is　that　in　the　meantime　the　enchanted　garden　was　so　much　upon

my　mind　that　I　could　not　keep　it　to　myself。



〃I　toldWhat　was　his　name？a　ferrety…looking　youngster　we

used　to　call　Squiff。〃



〃Young　Hopkins；〃　said　I。



〃Hopkins　it　was。　　I　did　not　like　telling　him；　I　had　a　feeling

that　in　some　way　it　was　against　the　rules　to　tell　him；　but　I　did。　

He　was　walking　part　of　the　way　home　with　me；　he　was　talkative；　and

if　we　had　not　talked　about　the　enchanted　garden　we　should　have

talked　of　something　else；　and　it　was　intolerable　to　me　to　think

about　any　other　subject。　　So　I　blabbed。



〃Well；　he　told　my　secret。　　The　next　day　in　the　play　interval

I　found　myself　surrounded　by　half　a　dozen　bigger　boys；　half　teasing

and　wholly　curious　to　hear　more　of　the　enchanted　garden。　　There　was

that　big　Fawcettyou　remember　him？and　Carnaby　and　Morley

Reynolds。　　You　weren't　there　by　any　chance？　　No；　I　think　I　should

have　remembered　if　you　were　。　。　。　。　。



〃A　boy　is　a　creature　of　odd　feelings。　　I　was；　I　really

believe；　in　spite　of　my　secret　self…disgust；　a　little　flattered　to

have　the　attention　of　these　big　fellows。　　I　remember　particularly

a　moment　of　pleasure　caused　by　the　praise　of　Crawshawyou　remember

Crawshaw　major；　the　son　of　Crawshaw　the　composer？who　said　it　was

the　best　lie　he　had　ever　heard。　　But　at　the　same　time　there　was　a

really　painful　undertow　of　shame　at　telling　what　I　felt　was　indeed

a　sacred　secret。　　That　beast　Fawcett　made　a　joke　about　the　girl　in

green。〃



Wallace's　voice　sank　with　the　keen　memory　of　that　shame。　　〃I

pretended　not　to　hear；〃　he　said。　　〃Well；　then　Carnaby　suddenly

called　me　a　young　liar　and　disputed　with　me　when　I　said　the　thing

was　true。　　I　said　I　knew　where　to　find　the　green　door；　could　lead

them　all　there　in　ten　minutes。　　　Carnaby　became　outrageously

virtuous；　and　said　I'd　have　toand　bear　out　my　words　or　s