manalive-第23章
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〃‘I'll help you out of your hole； old man；' said Smith；
with rough tenderness。 ‘I'll put the puppy out of his pain。'
〃Emerson Eames retreated towards the window。 ‘Do you mean
to kill me？' he cried。
〃‘It's not a thing I'd do for every one；' said Smith with emotion；
‘but you and I seem to have got so intimate to…night； somehow。
I know all your troubles now； and the only cure； old chap。'
〃‘Put that thing down；' shouted the Warden。
〃‘It'll soon be over； you know；' said Smith with the air of a
sympathetic dentist。 And as the Warden made a run for the window
and balcony； his benefactor followed him with a firm step
and a compassionate expression。
〃Both men were perhaps surprised to see that the gray and white
of early daybreak had already come。 One of them； however；
had emotions calculated to swallow up surprise。 Brakespeare College
was one of the few that retained real traces of Gothic ornament；
and just beneath Dr。 Eames's balcony there ran out what had perhaps
been a flying buttress； still shapelessly shaped into gray beasts
and devils； but blinded with mosses and washed out with rains。
With an ungainly and most courageous leap； Eames sprang out on this
antique bridge； as the only possible mode of escape from the maniac。
He sat astride of it； still in his academic gown； dangling his
long thin legs； and considering further chances of flight。
The whitening daylight opened under as well as over him that
impression of vertical infinity already remarked about the little
lakes round Brakespeare。 Looking down and seeing the spires
and chimneys pendent in the pools； they felt alone in space。
They felt as if they were looking over the edge from the North Pole
and seeing the South Pole below。
〃‘Hang the world； we said；' observed Smith； ‘and the world is hanged。
〃He has hanged the world upon nothing；〃 says the Bible。 Do you like being
hanged upon nothing？ I'm going to be hanged upon something myself。
I'm going to swing for you。。。 Dear； tender old phrase；' he murmured；
‘never true till this moment。 I am going to swing for you。
For you； dear friend。 For your sake。 At your express desire。'
〃‘Help！' cried the Warden of Brakespeare College； ‘help！'
〃‘The puppy struggles；' said the undergraduate； with an eye of pity；
‘the poor puppy struggles。 How fortunate it is that I am wiser
and kinder than he；' and he sighted his weapon so as exactly to cover
the upper part of Eames's bald head。
〃‘Smith；' said the philosopher with a sudden change to a sort
of ghastly lucidity； ‘I shall go mad。'
〃‘And so look at things from the right angle；' observed Smith；
sighing gently。 ‘Ah； but madness is only a palliative at best；
a drug。 The only cure is an operationan operation that is
always successful： death。'
〃As he spoke the sun rose。 It seemed to put colour into everything；
with the rapidity of a lightning artist。 A fleet of little
clouds sailing across the sky changed from pigeon…gray to pink。
All over the little academic town the tops of different buildings
took on different tints： here the sun would pick out the green
enameled on a pinnacle； there the scarlet tiles of a villa；
here the copper ornament on some artistic shop； and there
the sea…blue slates of some old and steep church roof。
All these coloured crests seemed to have something oddly
individual and significant about them； like crests of famous
knights pointed out in a pageant or a battlefield： they each
arrested the eye； especially the rolling eye of Emerson Eames
as he looked round on the morning and accepted it as his last。
Through a narrow chink between a black timber tavern and a big
gray college he could see a clock with gilt hands which the
sunshine set on fire。 He stared at it as though hypnotized；
and suddenly the clock began to strike； as if in personal reply。
As if at a signal； clock after clock took up the cry：
all the churches awoke like chickens at cockcrow。
The birds were already noisy in the trees behind the college。
The sun rose； gathering glory that seemed too full for the deep
skies to hold； and the shallow waters beneath them seemed golden
and brimming and deep enough for the thirst of the gods。
Just round the corner of the College； and visible from his crazy perch；
were the brightest specks on that bright landscape； the villa
with the spotted blinds which he had made his text that night。
He wondered for the first time what people lived in them。
〃Suddenly he called out with mere querulous authority；
as he might have called to a student to shut a door。
〃‘Let me come off this place；' he cried； ‘I can't bear it。'
〃‘I rather doubt if it will bear you；' said Smith critically；
‘but before you break your neck； or I blow out your brains；
or let you back into this room （on which complex points I
am undecided） I want the metaphysical point cleared up。
Do I understand that you want to get back to life？'
〃‘I'd give anything to get back；' replied the unhappy professor。
〃‘Give anything！' cried Smith； ‘then； blast your impudence；
give us a song！'
〃‘What song do you mean？' demanded the exasperated Eames； ‘what song？'
〃‘A hymn； I think； would be most appropriate；' answered the other gravely。
‘I'll let you off if you'll repeat after me the words
〃‘I thank the goodness and the grace
That on my birth have smiled。
And perched me on this curious place；
A happy English child。'
〃Dr。 Emerson Eames having briefly complied； his persecutor abruptly
told him to hold his hands up in the air。 Vaguely connecting this
proceeding with the usual conduct of brigands and bushrangers；
Mr。 Eames held them up； very stiffly； but without marked surprise。
A bird alighting on his stone seat took no more notice of him
than of a comic statue。
〃‘You are now engaged in public worship；' remarked Smith severely；
‘and before I have done with you； you shall thank God for the very ducks
on the pond。'
〃‘The celebrated pessimist half articulately expressed his perfect
readiness to thank God for the ducks on the pond。
〃‘Not forgetting the drakes；' said Smith sternly。
（Eames weakly conceded the drakes。） ‘Not forgetting anything； please。
You shall thank heaven for churches and chapels and villas
and vulgar people and puddles and pots and pans and sticks
and rags and bones and spotted blinds。'
〃‘All right； all right；' repeated the victim in despair；
‘sticks and rags and bones and blinds。'
〃‘Spotted blinds； I think we said；' remarked Smith with a
rogueish ruthlessness； and wagging the pistol…barrel at him
like a long metallic finger。
〃‘Spotted blinds；' said Emerson Eames faintly。
〃‘You can't say fairer than that；' admitted the younger man；
‘and now I'll just tell you this to wind up with。
If you really were what you profess to be； I don't see that it
would matter to snail or seraph if you broke your impious stiff
neck and dashed out all your drivelling devil…worshipping brains。
But in strict biographical fact you are a very nice fellow；
addicted to talking putrid nonsense； and I love you like a brother。
I shall therefore fire off all my cartridges round your head
so as not to hit you （I am a good shot； you may be glad to hear）；
and then we will go in and have some breakfast。'
〃He then let off two barrels in the air； which the Professor
endured with singular firmness； and then said； ‘But don't fire
them all off。'
〃‘Why not' asked the other buoyantly。
〃‘Keep them；' asked his companion； ‘for the next man you meet
who talks as we were talking。'
〃It was at this moment that Smith； looking down； perceived apoplectic
terror upon the face of the Sub…Warden； and heard the refined shriek
with which he summoned the porter and the ladder。
〃It took Dr。 Eames some little time to disentangle himself from
the ladder；and some little time longer to disentangle himself
from the Sub…Warden。 But as soon as he could do so unobtrusively；
he rejoined his companion in the late extraordinary scene。
He was astonished to find the gigantic Smith heavily shaken；
and sitting with his shaggy head on his hands。 When addressed；
he lifted a very pale face。
〃‘Why； what is the matter？' asked Eames； whose own nerves had
