the captives-第39章

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〃He　has　told　me；〃　Aunt　Anne　answered；　and　then　closed　her　eyes。

Maggie　went　away　with　a　sensation　of　being　tracked　by　some　stealthy　mysterious　force　that　was　creeping　ever　closer　and　closer　upon　her；　that　she　could　only　feel　but　not　see。　For　instance；　she　might　have　said　that　she　would　not　go　to　Chapel　to…night；　and　she　might　have　taken　her　stand　upon　that。　And　yet　she　could　not　say　that。　Of　course　she　must　go　because　she　must　see　Martin；　but　even　if　she　had　known　that　he　would　not　be　there　she　would　have　gone。　Was　it　curiosity？　Was　it　reminiscence？　Was　it　superstition？　Was　it　cowardice？　Was　it　loneliness？　All　these　things；　perhaps；　and　yet　something　more　than　they　。　。　。

All　through　the　afternoon　of　the　lovely　November　day　she　anticipated　that　evening's　services　as　though　it　were　in　some　way　to　be　a　climax。　She　knew　that　it　was　to　be　for　all　of　them　an　especial　affair。　She　had　heard　during　the　last　days　much　discussion　of　old　Mr。　Crashaw。　He　was　an　old　man　with；　apparently；　a　wonderful　history　of　conversions　behind　him。　His　conversions　had　been；　it　seemed；　of　the　forcible　kind；　seizing　people　by　the　neck　and　shoving　them　in；　he　was　a　fierce　and　militant　kind　of　saint；　he　believed；　it　seemed；　in　damnation　and　eternal　hell　fire；　and　could　make　you　believe　in　them　too；　his　accent　was　on　the　tortures　rather　than　the　triumphs　of　religion。

But　Maggie　had　other　thoughts；　in　this；　outside　Mr。　Crashaw。　She　had　never　lost　the　force　of　that　first　meeting　with　Mr。　Warlock；　she　had　avoided　him　simply　because　she　was　afraid　lest　he　should　influence　her　too　much；　but　now　after　her　friendship　with　Martin　she　felt　that　she　could　never　meet　old　Mr。　Warlock　frankly　again。　What　he　would　say　to　her　if　he　knew　that　she　meant　to　take　his　son　away　from　him　she　knew　well　enough。　On　every　side　there　was　trouble　and　difficulty。　She　could　not　see　a　friend　anywhere　unless　it　was　Caroline；　whom　she　did　not　completely　trust；　and　Mr。　Magnus；　whom　her　deception　of　her　aunt　would；　she　knew；　most　deeply　distress。　Meanwhile　she　was　being　pushed　forward　more　and　more　into　the　especial　religious　atmosphere　of　the　house；　the　Chapel　and　the　Chapel　sect。　Of　no　use　to　tell　herself　that　this　was　only　a　tiny　fragment　of　the　whole　world；　that　there；　only　five　yards　away　from　her；　in　the　Strand；　was　a　life　that　swept　past　the　Chapel　and　its　worshippers　with　the　utmost；　completest　indifference。　She　had　always　this　feeling　that　she　was　caught；　that　she　could　only　escape　by　a　desperate　violent　effort　that　would　hurt　others　and　perhaps　be；　for　herself；　a　lasting　reproach。　She　wanted　so　simple　a　thing　。　。　。　to　be　always　with　Martin；　working；　with　all　this　confusing；　baffling；　mysterious　religion　behind　her；　this　simple　thing　seemed　incredibly　difficult　of　attainment。

Nevertheless；　when　they　started　that　evening　for　the　Chapel　she　felt；　in　spite　of　herself；　a　strange　almost　pleasurable　excitement。　There　was；　in　that　plain；　ugly　building　some　force　that　could　not　be　denied。　Was　it　the　force　of　the　worshippers'　belief？　Was　it　the　force　of　some　outside　power　that　watched　ironically　the　efforts　of　those　poor　human　beings　to　discover　it？　Was　it　the　love　of　a　father　for　his　children？　No；　there　was　very　little　love　in　this　creedno　more　than　there　had　been　in　her　father's　creed　before。　As　she　walked　along　between　her　aunts　her　brain　was　a　curious　jumble　of　religion；　Martin；　and　how　she　was　ever　going　to　learn　to　be　tidy　and　punctual。

〃Well；　I　won't　care；〃　was　the　resolution　with　which　she　always　brought　to　an　end　her　discussions　and　misgivings。　〃I'm　myself。　Nobody　can　touch　me　unless　I　let　them。〃

It　was　a　most　lovely　evening；　very　pale　and　clear　with　an　orange　light　in　the　sky　like　the　reflection　of　some　far　distant　towering　fire。　The　air　was　still　and　the　rumble　of　the　town　scarcely　penetrated　into　their　street；　they　could　hear　the　ugly　voice　of　the　little　Chapel　bell　jangling　in　the　heart　of　the　houses；　there　was　a　scent　of　chrysanthemums　from　somewhere　and　a　very　faint　suggestion　of　snoweven　before　they　reached　the　Chapel　door　a　few　flakes　lazily　began　to　fall。

Maggie　was　thinking　now　only　of　Martin。　There　was　a　gas…lamp　already　lighted　in　the　Chapel　doorway；　and　this　blinded　her　eyes。　She　had　hoped　that　he　would　be　there；　waiting；　so　that　he　might　have　a　word　with　her　before　they　went　in；　but　when　they　were　all　gathered　together　under　the　porch　she　saw　with　a　throb　of　disappointment　that　he　was　not　there。　She　saw　no　one　whom　she　knew；　but　it　struck　her　at　once　that　here　was　a　gathering　quite　different　from　that　of　the　first　time　that　she　had　come　to　the　Chapel。　There　seemed　to　be　more　of　the　servant　class；　rather　they　were　older　women　with　serious　rapt　expressions　and　very　silent。　There　were　men　too；　to…night；　four　or　five　gathered　together　inside　the　passage；　standing　gravely；　without　a　word；　not　moving；　like　statues。　Maggie　was　frightened。　She　felt　like　a　spy　in　an　enemy's　camp；　and　a　spy　waiting　for　an　inevitable　detection；　with　no　hope　of　securing　any　news。　As　she　went　up　the　aisle　behind　her　aunts　her　eyes　searched　for　Martin。　She　could　not　see　him。　Their　seat　was　close　to　the　front；　and　already　seated　in　it　were　the　austere　Miss　Avies　and　two　lady　friends。

Maggie　was　maliciously　pleased　to　observe　that　Miss　Avies　had　not　expected　these　additions　to　her　number　and　was　now　in　danger　of　an　uncomfortable　squashing；　there　was；　indeed；　a　polite　little　struggle　between　Miss　Avies　and　Aunt　Anne　as　to　who　should　have　the　corner　with　a　wooden　arm　upon　which　to　rest。　Miss　Avies'　two　friends；　huddled　and　frightened　like　fledglings　suddenly　surprised　by　a　cuckoo；　stirred　Maggie's　sympathy。　She　disliked　Miss　Avies　from　the　very　first　moment。　Miss　Avies　had　a　pale；　thin；　pointed　face　with　no　eyebrows；　grey　eyes　dim　and　short…sighted；　and　fair　colourless　hair　brushed　straight　back　under　a　hard；　ugly　black　hat。

At　the　same　time　she　was　nervous；　emotional；　restless；　something　about　her　was　always　movingher　lips；　her　hands；　her　shoulders；　her　eyes。　She　was　fierce　and　hostile　and　ineffectual；　one　felt；　so　long　as　she　was　by　herself。　Maggie　did　not；　of　course；　notice　all　this　at　the　time；　but　in　after　years　she　always　looked　back　on　the　pale；　thin；　highly…strung　Miss　Avies　as　the　motive　of　most　of　the　events　that　followed　this　particular　evening。　It　was　as　though　she　felt　that　Miss　Avies'　weight；　not　enough　in　itself　to　effect　any　result；　when　thrown　into　the　balance　just　turned　everything　in　one　direction。　It　had　that　result；　at　any　rate；　upon　Maggie　herself。

She　soon　lost；　however；　consideration　of　Miss　Avies　in　the　wider　observation　of　the　Chapel　and　its　congregation。　It　was；　as　it　had　been　on　the　occasion　of　her　first　visit　to　it；　stuffy；　smelling　of　gas　and　brick　and　painted　wood；　ugly　in　its　bareness　and　unresponsivenessand；　nevertheless；　exciting。　The　interior　of　the　building　had　the　air　of　one　who　has　watched　some　most　unusual　happenings　and　expects　very　shortly　to　watch　them　again。　Even　the　harmonium　seemed　to　prick　up　its　wooden　ears　in　anticipation。　And　to…night　the　congregation　thrilled　also　with　breathless　expectation。　As　Maggie　looked　round　upon　them　she　could　see　that　they　were　throbbing　with　the　anticipation　of　some　almost　sensuous　delight。　By　now　they　had　filled　the　Chapel　to　its　utmost　limits；　but　there　was　not　one　human　being　there　who　did　not　seem　to　have　the　appearance　of　having　been　especially　selected　from　other　less　interesting　human　beings。　It　was　not　that　the　forces　that　surrounded　her　were　especially　interesting；　but　she　felt　that　all　of　them　had　taken　on　some　especial　dramatic　character　from　the　occasion。　Such　personalities　as　Aunt　Anne　and　Miss　Avies　were　in　any　case　vivid　and　dramatic；　but　to…night　Aunt　Elizabeth　and　the　placidly　rotund　Mrs。　Smith；　who　was　sitting　in　the　front　row　with　her　mouth　open；　and　simple　little　Miss　Pyncheon；　Aunt　Anne's　friend；　were　remarkable　and　exceptional。

Then　suddenly　Maggie　caught　sight　of　Martin。　He　was　sitting　in　the　extreme　right　next　the　wall；　his　ill…tempered　sister　was　next　to　him。　Maggie　could　only　see　his　head　and　shoulders；　but　she　realised　at　once　that　he　had　been；　for　a　long　time；　trying　to　catch　her　eye。　He　smiled　at　her　an　intimate　peculiar　smile　that　sent　the　blood　flooding　to　her　face　and　made