manalive-第30章

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My　companion　went　on　playing　with　the　pistol　in　front　of　him；
and　talking　with　the　same　rather　creepy　confidentialness。

〃‘I　am　always　trying　to　find　himto　catch　him　unawares。
I　come　in　through　skylights　and　trapdoors　to　find　him；
but　whenever　I　find　himhe　is　doing　what　I　am　doing。'

〃I　sprang　to　my　feet　with　a　thrill　of　fear。　　‘There　is　some　one　coming；'
I　cried；　and　my　cry　had　something　of　a　shriek　in　it。　　〃Not　from
the　stairs　below；　but　along　the　passage　from　the　inner　bedchamber
（which　seemed　somehow　to　make　it　more　alarming）；　footsteps　were
coming　nearer。　　I　am　quite　unable　to　say　what　mystery；　or　monster；
or　double；　I　expected　to　see　when　the　door　was　pushed　open　from　within。
I　am　only　quite　certain　that　I　did　not　expect　to　see　what　I　did　see。

〃Framed　in　the　open　doorway　stood；　with　an　air　of　great　serenity；
a　rather　tall　young　woman；　definitely　though　indefinably　artistic
her　dress　the　colour　of　spring　and　her　hair　of　autumn　leaves；
with　a　face　which；　though　still　comparatively　young；
conveyed　experience　as　well　as　intelligence。　　All　she　said　was；
‘I　didn't　hear　you　come　in。'

〃‘I　came　in　another　way；'　said　the　Permeator；　somewhat　vaguely。
‘I'd　left　my　latchkey　at　home。'

〃I　got　to　my　feet　in　a　mixture　of　politeness　and　mania。
‘I'm　really　very　sorry；'　I　cried。　　‘I　know　my　position　is　irregular。
Would　you　be　so　obliging　as　to　tell　me　whose　house　this　is。？'

〃‘Mine；'　said　the　burglar；　‘May　I　present　you　to　my　wife？'

〃I　doubtfully；　and　somewhat　slowly；　resumed　my　seat；
and　I　did　not　get　out　of　it　till　nearly　morning。　　Mrs。　Smith
（such　was　the　prosaic　name　of　this　far　from　prosaic　household）
lingered　a　little；　talking　slightly　and　pleasantly。
She　left　on　my　mind　the　impression　of　a　certain　odd　mixture
of　shyness　and　sharpness；　as　if　she　knew　the　world　well；
but　was　still　a　little　harmlessly　afraid　of　it。
Perhaps　the　possession　of　so　jumpy　and　incalculable　a　husband
had　left　her　a　little　nervous。　　Anyhow；　when　she　had　retired
to　the　inner　chamber　once　more；　that　extraordinary　man　poured
forth　his　apologia　and　autobiography　over　the　dwindling　wine。

〃He　had　been　sent　to　Cambridge　with　a　view　to　a　mathematical
and　scientific；　rather　than　a　classical　or　literary；　career。
A　starless　nihilism　was　then　the　philosophy　of　the　schools；
and　it　bred　in　him　a　war　between　the　members　and　the　spirit；
but　one　in　which　the　members　were　right。　　While　his　brain
accepted　the　black　creed；　his　very　body　rebelled　against　it。
As　he　put　it；　his　right　hand　taught　him　terrible　things。
As　the　authorities　of　Cambridge　University　put　it；　unfortunately；
it　had　taken　the　form　of　his　right　hand　flourishing　a　loaded
firearm　in　the　very　face　of　a　distinguished　don；　and　driving
him　to　climb　out　of　the　window　and　cling　to　a　waterspout。
He　had　done　it　solely　because　the　poor　don　had　professed
in　theory　a　preference　for　non…existence。　For　this
very　unacademic　type　of　argument　he　had　been　sent　down。
Vomiting　as　he　was　with　revulsion；　from　the　pessimism　that　had
quailed　under　his　pistol；　he　made　himself　a　kind　of　fanatic
of　the　joy　of　life。　　He　cut　across　all　the　associations
of　serious…minded　men。　　He　was　gay；　but　by　no　means　careless。
His　practical　jokes　were　more　in　earnest　than　verbal　ones。
Though　not　an　optimist　in　the　absurd　sense　of　maintaining　that
life　is　all　beer　and　skittles；　he　did　really　seem　to　maintain
that　beer　and　skittles　are　the　most　serious　part　of　it。
‘What　is　more　immortal；'　he　would　cry；　‘than　love　and　war？
Type　of　all　desire　and　joybeer。　　Type　of　all　battle
and　conquestskittles。'

〃There　was　something　in　him　of　what　the　old　world　called
the　solemnity　of　revelswhen　they　spoke　of　‘solemnizing'
a　mere　masquerade　or　wedding　banquet。　　Nevertheless　he　was　not
a　mere　pagan　any　more　than　he　was　a　mere　practical　joker。
His　eccentricities　sprang　from　a　static　fact　of　faith；
in　itself　mystical；　and　even　childlike　and　Christian。

〃‘I　don't　deny；'　he　said；　‘that　there　should　be　priests　to　remind
men　that　they　will　one　day　die。　　I　only　say　that　at　certain
strange　epochs　it　is　necessary　to　have　another　kind　of　priests；
called　poets；　actually　to　remind　men　that　they　are　not　dead　yet。
The　intellectuals　among　whom　I　moved　were　not　even　alive　enough
to　fear　death。　　They　hadn't　enough　blood　in　them　to　be　cowards。
Until　a　pistol　barrel　was　poked　under　their　very　noses　they　never
even　knew　they　had　been　born。　　For　ages　looking　up　an　eternal
perspective　it　might　be　true　that　life　is　a　learning　to　die。
But　for　these　little　white　rats　it　was　just　as　true　that　death
was　their　only　chance　of　learning　to　live。'

〃His　creed　of　wonder　was　Christian　by　this　absolute　test；　that　he　felt
it　continually　slipping　from　himself　as　much　as　from　others。
He　had　the　same　pistol　for　himself；　as　Brutus　said　of　the　dagger。
He　continually　ran　preposterous　risks　of　high　precipice　or　headlong
speed　to　keep　alive　the　mere　conviction　that　he　was　alive。
He　treasured　up　trivial　and　yet　insane　details　that　had　once
reminded　him　of　the　awful　subconscious　reality。　　When　the　don
had　hung　on　the　stone　gutter；　the　sight　of　his　long　dangling　legs；
vibrating　in　the　void　like　wings；　somehow　awoke　the　naked　satire
of　the　old　definition　of　man　as　a　two…legged　animal　without　feathers。
The　wretched　professor　had　been　brought　into　peril　by　his　head；
which　he　had　so　elaborately　cultivated；　and　only　saved
by　his　legs；　which　he　had　treated　with　coldness　and　neglect。
Smith　could　think　of　no　other　way　of　announcing　or　recording　this；
except　to　send　a　telegram　to　an　old　friend　（by　this　time　a
total　stranger）　to　say　that　he　had　just　seen　a　man　with　two　legs；
and　that　the　man　was　alive。

〃The　uprush　of　his　released　optimism　burst　into　stars　like　a　rocket
when　he　suddenly　fell　in　love。　　He　happened　to　be　shooting　a　high
and　very　headlong　weir　in　a　canoe；　by　way　of　proving　to　himself
that　he　was　alive；　and　he　soon　found　himself　involved　in　some　doubt
about　the　continuance　of　the　fact。　　What　was　worse；　he　found　he　had
equally　jeopardized　a　harmless　lady　alone　in　a　rowing…boat；　and　one
who　had　provoked　death　by　no　professions　of　philosophic　negation。
He　apologized　in　wild　gasps　through　all　his　wild　wet　labours　to　bring
her　to　the　shore；　and　when　he　had　done　so　at　last；　he　seems　to　have
proposed　to　her　on　the　bank。　　Anyhow；　with　the　same　impetuosity
with　which　he　had　nearly　murdered　her；　he　completely　married　her；
and　she　was　the　lady　in　green　to　whom　I　had　recently　and　‘good…night。'

〃They　had　settled　down　in　these　high　narrow　houses
near　Highbury。　　Perhaps；　indeed；　that　is　hardly　the　word。
One　could　strictly　say　that　Smith　was　married；　that　he　was　very
happily　married；　that　he　not　only　did　not　care　for　any　woman
but　his　wife；　but　did　not　seem　to　care　for　any　place　but　his　home；
but　perhaps　one　could　hardly　say　that　he　had　settled　down。
‘I　am　a　very　domestic　fellow；'　he　explained　with　gravity；
‘and　have　often　come　in　through　a　broken　window　rather　than　be
late　for　tea。'

〃He　lashed　his　soul　with　laughter　to　prevent　it　falling　asleep。
He　lost　his　wife　a　series　of　excellent　servants　by　knocking　at
the　door　as　a　total　stranger；　and　asking　if　Mr。　Smith　lived　there
and　what　kind　of　a　man　he　was。　　The　London　general　servant　is　not
used　to　the　master　indulging　in　such　transcendental　ironies。
And　it　was　found　impossible　to　explain　to　her　that　he　did　it　in　order
to　feel　the　same　interest　in　his　own　affairs　that　he　always　felt
in　other　people's。

〃‘I　know　there's　a　fellow　called　Smith；'　he　said　in　his　rather
weird　way；　‘living　in　one　of　the　tall　houses　in　this　terrace。
I　know　he　is　really　happy；　and　yet　I　can　never　catch　him　at　it。'

〃Sometimes　he　would；　of　a　sudden；　treat　his　wife　with　a　kind　of　paralyzed
politeness；　like　a　young　stranger　struck　with　love　at　first　sight。
Sometimes　he　would　extend　this　poetic　fear　to　the　very　furniture；
would　seem　to　apologize　to　the　chair　he　sat　on；　and　climb　the　staircase
as　cautiously　as　a　cragsman；　to　renew　in　himself　the　sense　of　their　skeleton
of　reality。　　Every　stair　is　a　ladder　and　every　stool　a　leg；　he　said。
And　at　other　times　he　would　play　the　stranger　exactly　in　the　opposite　sense；
and　would　enter　by　another　way；　so　as　to　feel　like　a　thief　an