five tales-第33章
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〃Would you mind if I spoke to Miss Heythorp； Sir？〃
〃If you do； you can leave my service。〃
〃Well； Sir； I don't accept the responsibility。〃
〃Who asked you to？〃
〃No； Sir。。。。〃
〃Well； get it； then； and don't be an ass。〃
〃Yes； Sir。〃 If the old man were not humoured he would have a fit； perhaps！
And the old man sat quietly staring at the hyacinths。 He felt happy； his whole being lined and warmed and drowsedand there was more to come！ What had the holy folk to give you compared with the comfort of a good dinner？ Could they make you dream； and see life rosy for a little？ No； they could only give you promissory notes which never would be cashed。 A man had nothing but his pluckthey only tried to undermine it； and make him squeal for help。 He could see his precious doctor throwing up his hands： 〃Port after a bottle of champagneyou'll die of it！〃 And a very good death toonone better。 A sound broke the silence of the closed…up room。 Music？ His daughter playing the piano overhead。 Singing too！ What a trickle of a voice！ Jenny Lind！ The Swedish nightingalehe had never missed the nights when she was singingJenny Lind！
〃It's very hot； sir。 Shall I take it out of the case？〃
Ah！ The ramequin！
〃Touch of butter； and the cayenne！〃
〃Yes； sir。〃
He ate it slowly； savouring each mouthful； had never tasted a better。 With cheeseport！ He drank one glass； and said：
〃Help me to my chair。〃
And settled there before the fire with decanter and glass and hand… bell on the little low table by his side； he murmured：
〃Bring coffee； and my cigar； in twenty minutes。〃
To…night he would do justice to his wine； not smoking till he had finished。 As old Horace said：
〃Aequam memento rebus in arduis Servare mentem。〃
And； raising his glass； he sipped slowly； spilling a drop or two； shutting his eyes。
The faint silvery squealing of the holy woman in the room above； the scent of hyacinths； the drowse of the fire； on which a cedar log had just been laid； the feeling of the port soaking down into the crannies of his being； made up a momentary Paradise。 Then the music stopped； and no sound rose but the tiny groans of the log trying to resist the fire。 Dreamily he thought： 'Life wears you outwears you out。 Logs on a fire！' And he filled his glass again。 That fellow had been careless； there were dregs at the bottom of the decanter and he had got down to them！ Then； as the last drop from his tilted glass trickled into the white hairs on his chin； he heard the coffee tray put down； and taking his cigar he put it to his ear； rolling it in his thick fingers。 In prime condition！ And drawing a first whiff； he said：
〃Open that bottle of the old brandy in the sideboard。〃
〃Brandy； sir？ I really daren't； sir。〃
〃Are you my servant or not？〃
〃Yes； sir； but…〃
A minute of silence； then the man went hastily to the sideboard； took out the bottle； and drew the cork。 The tide of crimson in the old man's face had frightened him。
〃Leave it there。〃
The unfortunate valet placed the bottle on the little table。 'I'll have to tell her；' he thought； 'but if I take away the port decanter and the glass； it won't look so bad。' And； carrying them； he left the room。
Slowly the old man drank his coffee； and the liqueur of brandy。 The whole gamut！ And watching his cigar…smoke wreathing blue in the orange glow； he smiled。 The last night to call his soul his own； the last night of his independence。 Send in his resignations to…morrow not wait to be kicked off！ Not give that fellow a chance
A voice which seemed to come from far off； said：
〃Father！ You're drinking brandy！ How can youyou know it's simple poison to you！〃 A figure in white； scarcely actual； loomed up close。 He took the bottle to fill up his liqueur glass； in defiance； but a hand in a long white glove； with another dangling from its wrist； pulled it away； shook it at him； and replaced it in the sideboard。 And； just as when Mr。 Ventnor stood there accusing him； a swelling and churning in his throat prevented him from speech； his lips moved； but only a little froth came forth。
His daughter had approached again。 She stood quite close； in white satin； thin…faced； sallow； with eyebrows raised； and her dark hair frizzedyes！ frizzedthe holy woman！ With all his might he tried to say： 'So you bully me； do youyou bully me to…night！' but only the word 〃so〃 and a sort of whispering came forth。 He heard her speaking。 〃It's no good your getting angry； Father。 After champagneit's wicked！〃 Then her form receded in a sort of rustling white mist； she was gone； and he heard the sputtering and growling of her taxi； bearing her to the ball。 So！ She tyrannised and bullied； even before she had him at her mercy； did she？ She should see！ Anger had brightened his eyes； the room came clear again。 And slowly raising himself he sounded the bell twice； for the girl； not for that fellow Meller； who was in the plot。 As soon as her pretty black and white…aproned figure stood before him； he said：
〃Help me up。〃
Twice her soft pulling was not enough； and he sank back。 The third time he struggled to his feet。
〃Thank you； that'll do。〃 Then； waiting till she was gone； he crossed the room； fumbled open the sideboard door； and took out the bottle。 Reaching over the polished oak； he grasped a sherry glass； and holding the bottle with both hands； tipped the liquor into it； put it to his lips and sucked。 Drop by drop it passed over his palate mild； very old； old as himself； coloured like sunlight； fragrant。 To the last drop he drank it； then hugging the bottle to his shirt…front； he moved snail…like to his chair； and fell back into its depths。 For some minutes he remained there motionless； the bottle clasped to his chest； thinking： 'This is not the attitude of a gentleman。 I must put it down on the table…on the table；' but a thick cloud was between him and everything。 It was with his hands he would have to put the bottle on the table！ But he could not find his hands； could not feel them。 His mind see…sawed in strophe and antistrophe： 〃You can't move！〃〃I will move！〃 〃You're beaten〃〃I'm not beat。〃 〃Give up〃 〃I won't。〃 That struggle to find his hands seemed to last for ever he must find them！ After thatgo downall standingafter that！ Everything round him was red。 Then the red cloud cleared just a little； and he could hear the clock〃tick…tick…tick〃； a faint sensation spread from his shoulders down to his wrists； down his palms； and yeshe could feel the bottle！ He redoubled his struggle to get forward in his chair； to get forward and put the bottle down。 It was not dignified like this！ One arm he could move now； but he could not grip the bottle nearly tight enough to put it down。 Working his whole body forward； inch by inch； he shifted himself up in the chair till he could lean sideways； and the bottle； slipping down his chest； dropped slanting to the edge of the low stool…table。 Then with all his might he screwed his trunk and arms an inch further； and the bottle stood。 He had done itdone it！ His lips twitched into a smile； his body sagged back to its old position。 He had done it！ And he closed his eyes 。。。。
At half…past eleven the girl Molly； opening the door； looked at him and said softly： 〃Sirr！ there's some ladies； and a gentleman！〃 But he did not answer。 And； still holding the door； she whispered out into the hall：
〃He's asleep； miss。〃
A voice whispered back：
〃Oh！ Just let me go in； I won't wake him unless he does。 But I do want to show him my dress。〃
The girl moved aside； and on tiptoe Phyllis passed in。 She walked to where； between the lamp…glow and the fire…glow； she was lighted up。 White satinher first low…cut dressthe flush of her first supper partya gardenia at her breast； another in her fingers！ Oh！ what a pity he was asleep！ How red he looked！ How funnily old men breathed！ And mysteriously； as a child might； she whispered：
〃Guardy！〃
No answer！ And pouting； she stood twiddling the gardenia。 Then suddenly she thought： 'I'll put it in his buttonhole！ When he wakes up and sees it； how he'll jump！'
And stealing close； she bent and slipped it in。 Two faces looked at her from round the door； she heard Bob
