the captives-第24章

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s　before　by　an　old　lady　who　heard　him　preach　and　had　been；　for　a　week；　converted；　but　on　his　demand　that　she　should　give　her　wealth　to　the　poor　and　fling　aside　her　passion　for　Musical　Comedy；　left　him　with　indignation。　The　picture　had　remained；　it　hung　there　now　crooked　on　its　cord。

John　Warlock　was　unconscious　of　the　dust　and　disorder　that　surrounded　him。　His　own　passion　for　personal　cleanliness　sprang　from　the　early　days　with　his　father；　to　whom　bodily　cleanliness　had　been　part　of　a　fanatical　mysticism。　Partly　also　by　reason　of　that　early　training；　sloth；　drunkenness；　immorality；　had　no　power　over　him。　And　of　the　whole　actual　world　that　surrounded　him　he　was　very　little　conscious　except　that　he　hated　towns　and　longed　always　for　air　and　space。

So　that　the　windows　were　open　one　room　was　to　him　as　another。

He　had　often；　during　his　work　with　the　members　of　his　community；　been　conscious　of　his　ignorance　of　the　impulses　and　powers　that　went　up　to　make　the　ordinary　sensual　physical　life　of　the　normal　man。　His　own　troubles；　trials；　failures　were　so　utterly　of　another　kind　that　in　this　other　world　his　imagination　refused　to　aid　him。　This　had　often　deeply　distressed　him　and　made　him　timid　and　shy　in　his　dealings　with　men　and　women。　It　was　this；　more　than　anything　else；　that　held　him　back　from　the　ambition　to　proselytise。　How　could　he　go　forth　and　challenge　men's　souls　when　he　could　not　understand　nor　feel　their　difficulties？　More　and　more　as　his　years　advanced　had　he　retired　into　himself；　into　his　own　mystical　world　of　communion　with　a　God　who　drew　ever　nearer　and　nearer　to　him。　He　humbled　himself　before　men；　he　did　not　believe　himself　better　than　they　because　he　had　not　yielded　to　their　temptations；　but　he　could　not　help　them；　his　tongue　was　tied；　he　was　a　man　cut　off　from　his　fellows　and　he　knew　it。

He　had　never　felt　so　impatient　of　his　impotence　as　he　did　to…night。　For　ten　years　he　had　been　waiting　for　this　interview　with　his　son；　and　now　that　it　was　come　he　was　timid　and　afraid　as　though　he　had　been　opposed　by　a　stranger。　He　had　always　known　that　Martin　would　return。　It　had　been　his　one　worldly　ambition　and　prayer　to　have　him　at　his　side　again。　When　he　had　thought　and　dreamt　of　the　time　that　was　coming；　he　had　thought　that　it　would　be　simple　enough　to　win　the　boy　back　to　the　old　allegiance　and　faith　to　which　he　had　once　been　bound。　Meanwhile　the　boy　had　grown　into　a　man；　here　was　a　new　Martin　deep　in　experiences；　desires；　ambitions　of　which　his　father　could　have　no　perception。　Even　in　the　moment　that　he　was　aware　of　the　possibility　of　losing　his　son　he　was　aware　also　of　the　deep　almost　fanatical　resolve　to　keep　him；　to　hold　him　at　all　costs。

This　was　to　be　the　test　of　his　whole　earthly　life。　He　seemed；　as　he　sat　there；　looking　across　at　his　boy；　to　challenge　God　Himself　to　take　him　from　him。　It　was　as　though　he　said：

〃This　reward　at　least　I　have　a　right　to　ask。　I　demand　it　。　。　。〃

Martin；　on　his　side；　was　conscious　of　a　profound　discomfort。　He　had；　increasingly　as　the　years　had　passed；　wished　to　take　life　easily　and　pleasantly。　Suddenly　now　another　world　rose　up　before　him。　Yes；　another　world。　He　was　not　fool　enough　to　dismiss　it　simply　because　it　did　not　resemble　his　own。　Moreover　it　had　been　once　his；　and　this　was　increasingly　borne　in　upon　him。　But　it　all　seemed　to　him　now　incredibly　old；　childish　and　even　fantastic；　as　though　here；　in　the　middle　of　London；　he　had　suddenly　stepped　into　a　little　wood　with　a　witch；　a　cottage　and　a　boiling　cauldron。　Such　things　could　not　frighten；　of　coursehe　was　no　longer　a　childand　yet　because　he　had　once　been　frightened　some　impression　of　alarm　and　dismay　hovered　over　him。

During　all　his　normal　years　abroad　he　had　forgotten　the　power　of　superstition；　of　dreams　and　omens；　he　knew　now；　as　he　faced　his　father；　that　the　power　was　real　enough。

They　talked　for　a　little　while　of　ordinary　things；　the　candle　flame　jumped　and　fell；　the　shavings　rustled　strangely　in　the　fireplace；　the　〃Transfiguration〃　swung　a　little　on　its　cord；　the　colour　still　lingering　at　its　heart　as　the　rest　of　the　room　moved　restlessly　under　the　ebb　and　flow　of　black　shadows。　Then　the　candle　suddenly　blew　out。

〃A　lamp　will　be　better；〃　said　Mr。　Warlock。

He　left　the　room　and　Martin　sat　there；　in　the　darkness；　haunted　by　he　knew　not　what　anticipations。　The　light　was　brought；　they　drew　closer　together；　sitting　in　the　little　glossy　pool；　the　room　pitch　dark　around　them。

〃Well；　Martin；〃　at　last　Mr。　Warlock　said；　〃I　want　to　hear　so　many　things。　Our　first　time　together　alone。〃

〃There　isn't　very　much；〃　Martin　tried　to　speak　naturally　and　carelessly。　〃I　wrote　about　most　things　in　my　letters。　Pretty　rotten　letters　I'm　afraid。〃　He　laughed。

〃And　nowwhat　do　you　intend　to　do　now？〃

〃Oh；　I　don't　knowLook　around　for　a　bit。〃

There　was　another　long　pause。　Then　Mr。　Warlock　began　again。　〃When　I　ask　about　your　life；　my　boy；　I　don't　mean　where　you've　lived；　how　you've　earned　your　livingI　do　know　all　thatyou've　been　very　good　about　writing。　But　your　real　life；　what　you've　been　thinking　about　things；　how　you　feel　about　everything　。　。　。〃

〃Well；　fatherI　don't　know。　One　hadn't　much　time　for　thinking；　you　know。　No　one　did　much　thinking　in　Rio。　When　I　was　in　the　Bermudas　there　was　a　fellow　。　。　。〃

〃Yes；　but　tell　me　about　yourself。〃

Then；　with　a　desperate　effort；　he　broke　out：

〃Father；　you'll　be　badly　disappointed　in　me。　I've　been　feeling　it　coming　all　the　time。　I　can't　help　it。　I'm　just　like　any　one　else。　I　want　to　have　a　good　time。　One's　only　young　once。　I'm　awfully　sorry。　I　want　to　please　you　in　any　way　I　can；　butbutit's　all　goneall　that　early　part。　It's　simply　one's　childhood　that's　finished　with。〃

〃And　it　can't　come　back　？〃　his　father　said　quietly。

〃Never！〃　Martin's　voice　was　almost　a　cry　as　though　he　were　defying　something。

〃We　are　very　weak　against　God's　will；〃　his　father　said；　still　quietly　as　though　it　were　not　he　that　was　speaking　but　some　voice　in　the　shadow　behind　him。　〃You　are　not　your　own　master；　Martin。〃

〃I　am　my　own　master；〃　Martin　answered　passionately。　〃I　have　been　my　own　master　for　ten　years。　I've　not　done　anything　very　fine　with　my　life；　I　know。　I'm　just　like　any　one　elsebut　I've　found　my　feet。　I　can　look　after　myself　against　anybody　and　I'm　independentof　every　one　and　of　everything。〃

His　father　drew　a　little　closer　to　him。

〃Of　course；〃　he　said；　〃I　was　not　so　foolish　as　to　expect　that　you　would　come　back　to　us　just　as　you　left　us。　I　know　that　you　must　have　your　own　lifeand　be　freeso　much　as　any　of　us　are　free　at　all　。　。　。〃　Then　after　a　little　pause。　〃What　are　your　plans？　What　are　you　going　to　do？〃

〃Well；〃　answered　Martin；　hesitating；　〃I　haven't　exactly　settled；　you　know。　I　might　take　a　small　share　in　some　business；　go　into　the　City。　Then　at　other　times　I　feel　I　shouldn't　like　being　cooped　up　in　a　town　after　the　life　I've　led。　Sometimes；　this　last　month；　I've　felt　I　couldn't　breathe。　It　was　though；　are　you；　all　the　chimneys　were　going　to　tumble　in。　When　you're　out　on　a　field　you　know　where　you　are；　don't　you？　So　I've　thought　it　would　be　nice　to　have　a　little　farm　somewhere　in　the　South；　Devonshire　or　Glebeshire　。　。　。　And　then　I'd　marry　of　course；　a　girl　who'd　like　that　kind　of　life　and　wouldn't　find　it　dull。　There'd　be　plenty　of　worka　healthy　life　for　children　right　away　from　these　towns　。　。　。　That's　my　sort　of　idea；　father；　but　of　course　one　doesn't　know　。　。　。〃

Martin　trailed　off　into　inconsequent　words。　It　was　as　though　his　father　were　waiting　for　him　to　commit　himself　and　would　then　suddenly　leap　upon　him　with　〃There！　Now；　you've　betrayed　yourself。　I've　caught　you〃　and　he　had　simply　nothing　to　betray；　nothing　to　conceal。

But　anything　was　better　than　these　pauses　during　which　the　threats　and　anticipations　piled　up　and　up；　making　a　monstrous　figure　out　of　exactly　nothing　at　all。

It　was　not　enough　to　tell　himself　that　between　every　father　and　son　there　were　restraints　and　hesitations；　a　division　cleft　by　the　remembrance　of　the　time　when　one　had　commanded　and　the　other　obeyed。　There　were　other　elements　herefor　one　the　element　of　an　old　affection　that　had　once　been　at　the　very　root　of　the　boy's　soul　and　was　now　in　the　strangest　way　creeping　back　to　him；　as　an　old　fami