the captives-第121章

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〃Oh　I　do　wish　he'd　come；〃　she　whispered　aloud。

She　had　looked　at　her　watch　and　seen　that　it　was　just　eight　o'clock　when　she　heard　a　step　on　the　stair。　She　had　already　borrowed　from　Emily　a　frying…pan。　Quickly　she　put　the　sausages　into　it；　placed　them　on　the　fire　and　then　stood　over　them。

The　door　opened。　She　knew　who　it　was　because　she　heard　him　start　suddenly　with　a　little　exclamation　of　surprise。　She　turned　and　looked　at　him。　Her　first　thought　was　that　he　seemed　desperately　weary；　weary　with　a　fatigue　not　only　physical。　His　whole　bearing　was　that　of　a　man　beaten；　defeated；　raging；　it　might　be；　with　the　consciousness　of　his　defeat　but　beyond　all　hope　of　avenging　it。　Her　pity　for　him　made　her　tremble　but；　with　that；　she　realised　that　the　worst　thing　that　she　could　do　was　to　show　pity。　What　had　he　expected？　To　find　her　gone？　To　find　her　still　sitting　defiantly　where　he　had　left　her？　To　see　her　crying；　perhaps　on　her　knees　before　him；　beseeching　him？　Anything　but　not　this。

She　could　see　that　he　was　astonished　and　was　resolved　not　to　let　her　know　it。

He　moved　past　her　without　a　word；　and　went　into　the　other　room。　She　said　nothing；　but　bent　over　the　sausages。　They　were　sizzling　and　flung　out　a　splendid　smell。

He　came　back　without　his　hat　and　coat。　He　stood　by　the　bedroom　door　and　slowly　looked　round　the　room；　taking　everything　in。

〃I　thought　you'd　have　gone；〃　he　said；　〃I　warned　you。〃

She　looked　up　at　him；　laughing：

〃I　haven't；〃　she　said。　〃Whatever　happens　afterwards；　Martin；　we　may　as　well　have　one　meal　together。　I'm　very　hungry。　I　know　you'll　forgive　my　using　your　room　like　this；　but　I　didn't　want　to　go　to　a　shop。　So　I　just　brought　the　things　in　here。〃

His　eyes　lighted　on　the　hyacinth。

〃I　know　what　your　game　is；〃　he　said　huskily。　〃But　it　isn't　any　good。　You　may　as　well　chuck　it。〃

〃All　right；〃　she　said。　〃After　we've　had　a　meal。〃

Straightening　herself　up　from　the　heat　of　the　fire　she　had　a　terrible　temptation　then　to　go　to　him。　It　overwhelmed　her　in　a　flood；　her　knees　and　hands　trembled。　She　wanted　just　to　touch　his　arm；　to　put　her　hand　on　his　shoulder。　But　she　knew　that　she　must　not。

〃Sit　down　for　a　bit；〃　she　said　very　quietly；　〃and　let's　have　our　meal。　There's　nothing　terrible　in　that；　Martin。　I've　not　put　poison　in　your　food　or　anything　and　the　sausages　do　smell　nice。〃

To　her　surprise　he　sat　down；　suddenly　collapsing　as　though　he　were　too　tired　to　stand　any　longer。　He　said　nothing　more。　She　finished　the　sausages；　put　them　on　the　table；　then　took　a　saucepan　（also　Emily's　gift）；　filled　it　with　water　and　put　in　the　eggs。

〃Come　on；〃　she　said　gently；　〃or　the　sausages　will　get　cold。〃

He　went　then　to　the　table；　cut　off　some　bread　and　began　to　eat　ravenously。　Her　heart　felt　a　dim　distant　triumph　when　she　saw　that　he　was　so　hungry；　but　it　was　too　early　to　feel　triumph　yet。

She　came　to　the　table　and　began　to　eat；　although　she　felt　no　hunger。

〃You're　married；　aren't　you？〃　he　asked　suddenly。

〃Yes；〃　she　answered。

〃Where's　your　husband？〃

〃A　place　called　Skeaton。〃

〃Well；　you'd　better　get　back　there　to…night〃

〃I'm　staying　in　London　for　a　day　or　two。〃

〃Where？〃

〃Here。　I've　got　a　bedroom　upstairs。〃

〃You　can　do　what　you　damn　well　please；〃　he　said。　〃It　doesn't　matter　to　me。　I'm　going　away　from　here　to…morrow　morning。〃　Then；　after　another　pause；　he　said：

〃What　sort　of　a　man's　your　husband？〃

〃A　clergyman；〃　she　answered。

〃　A　clergyman　。　。　。　good　Lord！〃　He　laughed　grimly。　〃Still　religious；　I　see。〃

All　this　time　she　was　thinking　how　ill　he　was。　Every　breath　that　he　drew　seemed　to　hurt　him。　His　eyes　were　dull　and　expressionless。　He　moved　his　hands；　sometimes；　with　a　groping　movement　as　though　he　could　not　see。　He　drank　his　tea　thirstily；　eagerly。

At　last　he　had　finished。　He　bent　forward；　leaning　on　his　hands；　looking　her　steadily　in　the　face　for　the　first　time。

〃It　was　clever　of　you　to　do　this；〃　he　said；　〃damn　clever。　I　was　hungry；　I　don't　mind　confessing　。　。　。　but　that's　the　last　of　it。　Do　you　hear？　I　can　look　after　myself。　I　know。　You're　feeling　sorry　for　me。　Think　I'm　in　a　dirty　room　with　no　one　to　look　after　me。　Think　I'm　ill。　I　bet　Amy　told　you　I　was　ill。　'Oh；　poor　fellow；'　you　thought；　'I　must　go　and　look　after　him。'　Well；　I'm　not　a　poor　fellow　and　I　don't　want　looking　after。　I　can　manage　for　myself　very　nicely。　And　I　don't　want　any　women　hanging　round。　I'm　sick　of　women；　and　that's　flat。〃

〃I'm　not　pretending　it's　not　all　my　own　fault。　It　is。　ALL　my　own　fault；　but　I　don't　want　any　one　coming　round　and　saying　so。　AND　I　don't　want　any　pity。　You've　had　a　nice　romantic　idea　in　your　head；　saving　the　sinner　and　all　the　rest　of　it。　Well；　you　can　get　back　to　your　parson。　He's　the　sort　for　that　kind　of　stuff。〃

〃Indeed　I　haven't；〃　said　Maggie。　〃I　don't　care　whether　you're　a　sinner　or　not。　You're　being　too　serious　about　it　all；　Martin。　We　were　old　friends。　When　I　heard　you　were　in　London　I　came　to　see　you。　That's　all。　I　may　as　well　stay　here　as　anywhere　else。　Aunt　Anne's　dead　andandUncle　Mathew　too。　There's　nowhere　else　for　me　to　go。　I　don't　pity　you。　Why　should　I？　You　think　too　much　about　yourself；　Martin。　It　wasn't　to　be　clever　that　I　got　these　things。　I　was　hungry；　and　I　didn't　want　to　eat　in　an　A。B。C。　shop。〃

〃Oh；　I　don't　know；〃　he　said；　turning　away　from　the　table。

He　stood　up；　fumbling　in　his　pocket。　He　produced　a　pipe　and　some　tobacco　out　of　a　paper　packet。　As　he　filled　it　she　saw　that　his　hand　was　trembling。

He　turned　finally　upon　her。

〃Whatever　your　plan　was　it's　failed；〃　he　said。　〃I'm　going　to　bed　straight　away　now。　And　to…morrow　morning　early　I'm　off。　Thank　you　for　the　meal　andgood…night　and　good…bye。〃

He　gave　her　one　straight　look。　She　looked　up　at　him；　calmly。　He　dropped　his　eyes；　then；　clumsily　he　walked　off；　opened　his　bedroom　door；　closed　it　behind　him；　and　was　gone。

She　sat　there；　staring　in　front　of　her；　thinking。　What　was　she　to　do　now？　At　least　she　might　clear　up。　She　had　nowhere　to　wash　the　things。　She　would　put　them　ready　for　the　morning。　She　tidied　the　table；　put　the　plates　and　cups　together；　then；　overcome　by　a　sudden　exhaustion；　she　sat　down　on　the　sofa。

She　realised　then　the　fight　that　the　day　had　been。　Yes；　a　fight！　。　。　。　and　she　was　still　only　at　the　beginning　of　it。　If　he　really　went　away　in　the　morning　what　could　she　do？　She　could　not　follow　him　all　round　London。　But　she　would　not　despair　yet。　No；　she　was　far　from　despair。　But　she　was　tired；　tired　to　death。

She　sat　on　there　in　a　kind　of　dream。　There　were　no　sounds　in　the　house。　The　fire　began　to　drop　very　low。　There　were　no　more　coals。　The　room　began　to　be　very　chilly。　She　laid　her　head　back　on　the　sofa；　she　was　half　asleep。　She　was　dreamingPaul　was　there　and　Gracethe　Skeaton　sandsthe　Revival　procession　with　the　lanterns　the　swish　of　the　sea　。　。　。

Suddenly　she　was　wide　awake。　The　lamp　had　burnt　down　to　a　low　rim　of　light。　Martin　was　coughing　in　the　other　room。　Coughing！　She　had　never　heard　such　a　cough；　something　inhuman　and　strange。　She　stood　up；　her　hands　clutched。　She　waited。　Then；　as　it　continued；　growing　fiercer　and　fiercer；　so　that　in　spite　of　the　closed　door　it　seemed　to　be　in　the　very　room　with　her；　she　could　bear　it　no　longer。

She　opened　the　door　and　went　in。　The　room　was　lit　by　a　candle　placed　on　a　chair　beside　the　bed。　Martin　was　sitting　up；　his　hands　clenched；　his　face　convulsed。　The　cough　went　onchoking；　convulsing；　as　though　some　terrible　enemy　had　hands　at　his　windpipe。　He　grasped　the　bedclothes；　his　eyes；　frightened　and　dilated；　staring　in　front　of　him。

She　went　to　him。　He　did　not　look　at　her；　but　whispered　in　a　voice　that　seemed　to　come　from　miles　away：

〃Bottle　。　。　。　over　there　。　。　。　glass。〃

She　saw　on　the　wash…hand　stand　a　bottle　with　a　medicine　glass　behind　it。　She　read　the　directions；　poured　out　the　drops；　took　it　over　and　gave　it　to　him。　He　swallowed　it　down。　She　put　out　her　arm　to　steady　him　and　felt　his　whole　body　tremble　beneath　her　hand。　Gradually　he　was　quieter。　Utterly　exhausted　he　slipped　back；　his　head　on　the　pillow。

She　drew　her　chair　close　to　the　bed。　He　was　too　exhausted　to　speak　and　did　not　look　at　her　at　all。　After　a　while　she　put　her　hand　on　his　forehead　and　stroked　it。　He　did　not　draw　away　from　her。　Slowly　his