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第34章

five tales-第34章

小说: five tales 字数: 每页4000字

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And stealing close; she bent and slipped it in。  Two faces looked at her from round the door; she heard Bob Pillin's smothered chuckle; her mother's rich and feathery laugh。  Oh!  How red his forehead was! She touched it with her lips; skipped back; twirled round; danced silently a second; blew a kiss; and like quicksilver was gone。

And the whispering; the chuckling; and one little out…pealing laugh rose in the hall。

But the old man slept。  Nor until Meller came at his usual hour of half…past twelve; was it known that he would never wake。







THE APPLE TREE


              〃The Apple…tree; the singing and the gold。〃                MURRAY'S 〃HIPPOLYTUS of EURIPIDES。〃

In their silver…wedding day Ashurst and his wife were motoring along the outskirts of the moor; intending to crown the festival by stopping the night at Torquay; where they had first met。  This was the idea of Stella Ashurst; whose character contained a streak of sentiment。  If she had long lost the blue…eyed; flower…like charm; the cool slim purity of face and form; the apple…blossom colouring; which had so swiftly and so oddly affected Ashurst twenty…six years ago; she was still at forty…three a comely and faithful companion; whose cheeks were faintly mottled; and whose grey…blue eyes had acquired a certain fullness。

It was she who had stopped the car where the common rose steeply to the left; and a narrow strip of larch and beech; with here and there a pine; stretched out towards the valley between the road and the first long high hill of the full moor。  She was looking for a place where they might lunch; for Ashurst never looked for anything; and this; between the golden furze and the feathery green larches smelling of lemons in the last sun of Aprilthis; with a view into the deep valley and up to the long moor heights; seemed fitting to the decisive nature of one who sketched in water…colours; and loved romantic spots。  Grasping her paint box; she got out。

〃Won't this do; Frank?〃

Ashurst; rather like a bearded Schiller; grey in the wings; tall; long…legged; with large remote grey eyes which sometimes filled with meaning and became almost beautiful; with nose a little to one side; and bearded lips just openAshurst; forty…eight; and silent; grasped the luncheon basket; and got out too。

〃Oh! Look; Frank!  A grave!〃

By the side of the road; where the track from the top of the common crossed it at right angles and ran through a gate past the narrow wood; was a thin mound of turf; six feet by one; with a moorstone to the west; and on it someone had thrown a blackthorn spray and a handful of bluebells。  Ashurst looked; and the poet in him moved。  At cross…roadsa suicide's grave!  Poor mortals with their superstitions!  Whoever lay there; though; had the best of it; no clammy sepulchre among other hideous graves carved with futilities just a rough stone; the wide sky; and wayside blessings!  And; without comment; for he had learned not to be a philosopher in the bosom of his family; he strode away up on to the common; dropped the luncheon basket under a wall; spread a rug for his wife to sit on she would turn up from her sketching when she was hungryand took from his pocket Murray's translation of the 〃Hippolytus。〃  He had soon finished reading of 〃The Cyprian〃 and her revenge; and looked at the sky instead。  And watching the white clouds so bright against the intense blue; Ashurst; on his silver…wedding day; longed forhe knew not what。  Maladjusted to lifeman's organism!  One's mode of life might be high and scrupulous; but there was always an; undercurrent of greediness; a hankering; and sense of waste。  Did women have it too?  Who could tell?  And yet; men who gave vent to their appetites for novelty; their riotous longings for new adventures; new risks; new pleasures; these suffered; no doubt; from the reverse side of starvation; from surfeit。  No getting out of ita maladjusted animal; civilised man!  There could be no garden of his choosing; of 〃the Apple…tree; the singing; and the gold;〃 in the words of that lovely Greek chorus; no achievable elysium in life; or lasting haven of happiness for any man with a sense of beautynothing which could compare with the captured loveliness in a work of art; set down for ever; so that to look on it or read was always to have the same precious sense of exaltation and restful inebriety。  Life no doubt had moments with that quality of beauty; of unbidden flying rapture; but the trouble was; they lasted no longer than the span of a cloud's flight over the sun; impossible to keep them with you; as Art caught beauty and held it fast。  They were fleeting as one of the glimmering or golden visions one had of the soul in nature; glimpses of its remote and brooding spirit。  Here; with the sun hot on his face; a cuckoo calling from a thorn tree; and in the air the honey savour of gorsehere among the little fronds of the young fern; the starry blackthorn; while the bright clouds drifted by high above the hills and dreamy valleys here and now was such a glimpse。  But in a moment it would passas the face of Pan; which looks round the corner of a rock; vanishes at your stare。  And suddenly he sat up。  Surely there was something familiar about this view; this bit of common; that ribbon of road; the old wall behind him。  While they were driving he had not been taking noticenever did; thinking of far things or of nothingbut now he saw!  Twenty…six years ago; just at this time of year; from the farmhouse within half a mile of this very spot he had started for that day in Torquay whence it might be said he had never returned。  And a sudden ache beset his heart; he had stumbled on just one of those past moments in his life; whose beauty and rapture he had failed to arrest; whose wings had fluttered away into the unknown; he had stumbled on a buried memory; a wild sweet time; swiftly choked and ended。  And; turning on his face; he rested his chin on his hands; and stared at the short grass where the little blue milkwort was growing。。。。




I

And this is what he remembered。

On the first of May; after their last year together at college; Frank Ashurst and his friend Robert Garton were on a tramp。  They had walked that day from Brent; intending to make Chagford; but Ashurst's football knee had given out; and according to their map they had still some seven miles to go。  They were sitting on a bank beside the…road; where a track crossed alongside a wood; resting the knee and talking of the universe; as young men will。  Both were over six feet; and thin as rails; Ashurst pale; idealistic; full of absence; Garton queer; round…the…corner; knotted; curly; like some primeval beast。  Both had a literary bent; neither wore a hat。

Ashurst's hair was smooth; pale; wavy; and had a way of rising on either side of his brow; as if always being flung back; Carton's was a kind of dark unfathomed mop。  They had not met a soul for miles。

〃My dear fellow;〃 Garton was saying; 〃pity's only an effect of self… consciousness; it's a disease of the last five thousand years。  The world was happier without。〃

Ashurst; following the clouds with his eyes; answered:

〃It's the pearl in the oyster; anyway。〃

〃My dear chap; all our modern unhappiness comes from pity。  Look at animals; and Red Indians; limited to feeling their own occasional misfortunes; then look at ourselvesnever free from feeling the toothaches of others。  Let's get back to feeling for nobody; and have a better time。〃

〃You'll never practise that。〃

Garton pensively stirred the hotch…potch of his hair。

〃To attain full growth; one mustn't be squeamish。  To starve oneself emotionally's a mistake。  All emotion is to the goodenriches life。〃

〃Yes; and when it runs up against chivalry?〃

〃Ah!  That's so English!  If you speak of emotion the English always think you want something physical; and are shocked。  They're afraid of passion; but not of lustoh; no!so long as they can keep it secret。〃

Ashurst did not answer; he had plucked a blue floweret; and was twiddling it against the sky。  A cuckoo began calling from a thorn tree。  The sky; the flowers; the songs of birds!  Robert was talking through his hat!  And he said:

〃Well; let's go on; and find

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