the pupil-第5章

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Mr。　Moreen。　　He　was　not　even　confused　or　embarrassed；　whereas　the

young　man　in　his　service　was　more　so　than　there　was　any　reason　for。

Neither　was　he　surprised　…　at　least　any　more　than　a　gentleman　had

to　be　who　freely　confessed　himself　a　little　shocked　…　though　not

perhaps　strictly　at　Pemberton。



〃We　must　go　into　this；　mustn't　we；　dear？〃　he　said　to　his　wife。　　He

assured　his　young　friend　that　the　matter　should　have　his　very　best

attention；　and　he　melted　into　space　as　elusively　as　if；　at　the

door；　he　were　taking　an　inevitable　but　deprecatory　precedence。

When；　the　next　moment；　Pemberton　found　himself　alone　with　Mrs。

Moreen　it　was　to　hear　her　say　〃I　see；　I　see〃　…　stroking　the

roundness　of　her　chin　and　looking　as　if　she　were　only　hesitating

between　a　dozen　easy　remedies。　　If　they　didn't　make　their　push　Mr。

Moreen　could　at　least　disappear　for　several　days。　　During　his

absence　his　wife　took　up　the　subject　again　spontaneously；　but　her

contribution　to　it　was　merely　that　she　had　thought　all　the　while

they　were　getting　on　so　beautifully。　　Pemberton's　reply　to　this

revelation　was　that　unless　they　immediately　put　down　something　on

account　he　would　leave　them　on　the　spot　and　for　ever。　　He　knew　she

would　wonder　how　he　would　get　away；　and　for　a　moment　expected　her

to　enquire。　　She　didn't；　for　which　he　was　almost　grateful　to　her；

so　little　was　he　in　a　position　to　tell。



〃You　won't；　you　KNOW　you　won't　…　you're　too　interested；〃　she　said。

〃You　are　interested；　you　know　you　are；　you　dear　kind　man！〃　　She

laughed　with　almost　condemnatory　archness；　as　if　it　were　a　reproach

…　though　she　wouldn't　insist；　and　flirted　a　soiled　pocket…

handkerchief　at　him。



Pemberton's　mind　was　fully　made　up　to　take　his　step　the　following

week。　　This　would　give　him　time　to　get　an　answer　to　a　letter　he　had

despatched　to　England。　　If　he　did　in　the　event　nothing　of　the　sort

…　that　is　if　he　stayed　another　year　and　then　went　away　only　for

three　months　…　it　was　not　merely　because　before　the　answer　to　his

letter　came　（most　unsatisfactory　when　it　did　arrive）　Mr。　Moreen

generously　counted　out　to　him；　and　again　with　the　sacrifice　to

〃form〃　of　a　marked　man　of　the　world；　three　hundred　francs　in

elegant　ringing　gold。　　He　was　irritated　to　find　that　Mrs。　Moreen

was　right；　that　he　couldn't　at　the　pinch　bear　to　leave　the　child。

This　stood　out　clearer　for　the　very　reason　that；　the　night　of　his

desperate　appeal　to　his　patrons；　he　had　seen　fully　for　the　first

time　where　he　was。　　Wasn't　it　another　proof　of　the　success　with

which　those　patrons　practised　their　arts　that　they　had　managed　to

avert　for　so　long　the　illuminating　flash？　　It　descended　on　our

friend　with　a　breadth　of　effect　which　perhaps　would　have　struck　a

spectator　as　comical；　after　he　had　returned　to　his　little　servile

room；　which　looked　into　a　close　court　where　a　bare　dirty　opposite

wall　took；　with　the　sound　of　shrill　clatter；　the　reflexion　of

lighted　back　windows。　　He　had　simply　given　himself　away　to　a　band

of　adventurers。　　The　idea；　the　word　itself；　wore　a　romantic　horror

for　him　…　he　had　always　lived　on　such　safe　lines。　　Later　it　assumed

a　more　interesting；　almost　a　soothing；　sense：　　it　pointed　a　moral；

and　Pemberton　could　enjoy　a　moral。　　The　Moreens　were　adventurers

not　merely　because　they　didn't　pay　their　debts；　because　they　lived

on　society；　but　because　their　whole　view　of　life；　dim　and　confused

and　instinctive；　like　that　of　clever　colour…blind　animals；　was

speculative　and　rapacious　and　mean。　　Oh　they　were　〃respectable；〃

and　that　only　made　them　more　immondes。　　The　young　man's　analysis；

while　he　brooded；　put　it　at　last　very　simply　…　they　were

adventurers　because　they　were　toadies　and　snobs。　　That　was　the

completest　account　of　them　…　it　was　the　law　of　their　being。　　Even

when　this　truth　became　vivid　to　their　ingenious　inmate　he　remained

unconscious　of　how　much　his　mind　had　been　prepared　for　it　by　the

extraordinary　little　boy　who　had　now　become　such　a　complication　in

his　life。　　Much　less　could　he　then　calculate　on　the　information　he

was　still　to　owe　the　extraordinary　little　boy。







CHAPTER　V







But　it　was　during　the　ensuing　time　that　the　real　problem　came　up　…

the　problem　of　how　far　it　was　excusable　to　discuss　the　turpitude　of

parents　with　a　child　of　twelve；　of　thirteen；　of　fourteen。

Absolutely　inexcusable　and　quite　impossible　it　of　course　at　first

appeared；　and　indeed　the　question　didn't　press　for　some　time　after

Pemberton　had　received　his　three　hundred　francs。　　They　produced　a

temporary　lull；　a　relief　from　the　sharpest　pressure。　　The　young　man

frugally　amended　his　wardrobe　and　even　had　a　few　francs　in　his

pocket。　　He　thought　the　Moreens　looked　at　him　as　if　he　were　almost

too　smart；　as　if　they　ought　to　take　care　not　to　spoil　him。　　If　Mr。

Moreen　hadn't　been　such　a　man　of　the　world　he　would　perhaps　have

spoken　of　the　freedom　of　such　neckties　on　the　part　of　a

subordinate。　　But　Mr。　Moreen　was　always　enough　a　man　of　the　world

to　let　things　pass　…　he　had　certainly　shown　that。　　It　was　singular

how　Pemberton　guessed　that　Morgan；　though　saying　nothing　about　it；

knew　something　had　happened。　　But　three　hundred　francs；　especially

when　one　owed　money；　couldn't　last　for　ever；　and　when　the　treasure

was　gone　…　the　boy　knew　when　it　had　failed　…　Morgan　did　break

ground。　　The　party　had　returned　to　Nice　at　the　beginning　of　the

winter；　but　not　to　the　charming　villa。　　They　went　to　an　hotel；

where　they　stayed　three　months；　and　then　moved　to　another

establishment；　explaining　that　they　had　left　the　first　because；

after　waiting　and　waiting；　they　couldn't　get　the　rooms　they　wanted。

These　apartments；　the　rooms　they　wanted；　were　generally　very

splendid；　but　fortunately　they　never　COULD　get　them　…　fortunately；

I　mean；　for　Pemberton；　who　reflected　always　that　if　they　had　got

them　there　would　have　been　a　still　scantier　educational　fund。　　What

Morgan　said　at　last　was　said　suddenly；　irrelevantly；　when　the

moment　came；　in　the　middle　of　a　lesson；　and　consisted　of　the

apparently　unfeeling　words：　　〃You　ought　to　filer；　you　know　…　you

really　ought。〃



Pemberton　stared。　　He　had　learnt　enough　French　slang　from　Morgan　to

know　that　to　filer　meant　to　cut　sticks。　　〃Ah　my　dear　fellow；　don't

turn　me　off！〃



Morgan　pulled　a　Greek　lexicon　toward　him　…　he　used　a　Greek…German　…

to　look　out　a　word；　instead　of　asking　it　of　Pemberton。　　〃You　can't

go　on　like　this；　you　know。〃



〃Like　what；　my　boy？〃



〃You　know　they　don't　pay　you　up；〃　said　Morgan；　blushing　and　turning

his　leaves。



〃Don't　pay　me？〃　Pemberton　stared　again　and　feigned　amazement。

〃What　on　earth　put　that　into　your　head？〃



〃It　has　been　there　a　long　time；〃　the　boy　replied　rummaging　his

book。



Pemberton　was　silent；　then　he　went　on：　　〃I　say；　what　are　you

hunting　for？　　They　pay　me　beautifully。〃



〃I'm　hunting　for　the　Greek　for　awful　whopper；〃　Morgan　dropped。



〃Find　that　rather　for　gross　impertinence　and　disabuse　your　mind。

What　do　I　want　of　money？〃



〃Oh　that's　another　question！〃



Pemberton　wavered　…　he　was　drawn　in　different　ways。　　The　severely

correct　thing　would　have　been　to　tell　the　boy　that　such　a　matter

was　none　of　his　business　and　bid　him　go　on　with　his　lines。　　But

they　were　really　too　intimate　for　that；　it　was　not　the　way　he　was

in　the　habit　of　treating　him；　there　had　been　no　reason　it　should

be。　　On　the　other　hand　Morgan　had　quite　lighted　on　the　truth　…　he

really　shouldn't　be　able　to　keep　it　up　much　longer；　therefore　why

not　let　him　know　one's　real　motive　for　forsaking　him？　　At　the　same

time　it　wasn't　decent　to　abuse　to　one's　pupil　the　family　of　one's

pupil；　it　was　better　to　misrepresent　than　to　do　that。　　So　in　reply

to　his　comrade's　last　exclamation　he　just　declared；　to　dismiss　the

subject；　that　he　had　received　several　payments。



〃I　say　…　I　say！〃　the　boy　ejaculated；　laughing。



〃That's　all　right；〃　Pemberton　insisted。　　〃Give　me　your　written

rendering。〃



Morgan　pushed　a　copybook　across