five tales-第48章
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to existence； by the country's peril； and all the public service and sacrifice it demanded。 His chauffeur was gone； and one gardener did the work of three。 He enjoyed…positively enjoyed； his committee work； even the serious decline of business and increase of taxation had not much worried one continually conscious of the national crisis and his own part therein。 The country had wanted waking up； wanted a lesson in effort and economy； and the feeling that he had not spared himself in these strenuous times； had given a zest to those quiet pleasures of bed and board which； at his age； even the most patriotic could retain with a good conscience。 He had denied himself many thingsnew clothes； presents for Kathleen and the children； travel； and that pine…apple house which he had been on the point of building when the war broke out； new wine； too； and cigars； and membership of the two Clubs which he had never used in the old days。 The hours had seemed fuller and longer； sleep better earnedwonderful； the things one could do without when put to it！ He turned the car into the high road； driving dreamily for he was in plenty of time。 The war was going pretty well now； he was no fool optimist； but now that conscription was in force； one might reasonably hope for its end within a year。 Then there would be a boom； and one might let oneself go a little。 Visions of theatres and supper with his wife at the Savoy afterwards； and cosy night drives back into the sweet…smelling country behind your own chauffeur once more teased a fancy which even now did not soar beyond the confines of domestic pleasures。 He pictured his wife in new dresses by Jay she was fifteen years younger than himself； and 〃paid for dressing〃 as they said。 He had always delightedas men older than their wives willin the admiration she excited from others not privileged to enjoy her charms。 Her rather queer and ironical beauty； her cool irreproachable wifeliness； was a constant balm to him。 They would give dinner parties again； have their friends down from town； and he would once more enjoy sitting at the foot of the dinner table while Kathleen sat at the head； with the light soft on her ivory shoulders； behind flowers she had arranged in that original way of hers； and fruit which he had grown in his hot…houses； once more he would take legitimate interest in the wine he offered to his guestsonce more stock that Chinese cabinet wherein he kept cigars。 Yesthere was a certain satisfaction in these days of privation； if only from the anticipation they created。
The sprinkling of villas had become continuous on either side of the high road； and women going out to shop； tradesmen's boys delivering victuals； young men in khaki； began to abound。 Now and then a limping or bandaged form would passsome bit of human wreckage； and Mr。 Bosengate would think mechanically： 'Another of those poor devils！ Wonder if we've had his case before us！'
Running his car into the best hotel garage of the little town； he made his way leisurely over to the court。 It stood back from the market…place； and was already lapped by a sea of persons having； as in the outer ring at race meetings； an air of business at which one must not be caught out； together with a soaked or flushed appearance。 Mr。 Bosengate could not resist putting his handkerchief to his nose。 He had carefully drenched it with lavender water； and to this fact owed； perhaps； his immunity from the post of foreman on the jury for； say what you will about the English； they have a deep instinct for affairs。
He found himself second in the front row of the jury box； and through the odour of 〃Sanitas〃 gazed at the judge's face expressionless up there； for all the world like a bewigged bust。 His fellows in the box had that appearance of falling between two classes characteristic of jurymen。 Mr。 Bosengate was not impressed。 On one side of him the foreman sat； a prominent upholsterer； known in the town as 〃Gentleman Fox。〃 His dark and beautifully brushed and oiled hair and moustache； his radiant linen； gold watch and chain； the white piping to his waistcoat； and a habit of never saying 〃Sir〃 had long marked him out from commoner men； he undertook to bury people too； to save them trouble； and was altogether superior。 On the other side Mr。 Bosengate had one of those men； who； except when they sit on juries； are never seen without a little brown bag； and the appearance of having been interrupted in a drink。 Pale and shiny； with large loose eyes shifting from side to side； he had an underdone voice and uneasy flabby hands。 Mr。 Bosengate disliked sitting next to him。 Beyond this commercial traveller sat a dark pale young man with spectacles； beyond him again； a short old man with grey moustache； mutton chops； and innumerable wrinkles； and the front row was completed by a chemist。 The three immediately behind； Mr。 Bosengate did not thoroughly master； but the three at the end of the second row he learned in their order of an oldish man in a grey suit； given to winking； an inanimate person with the mouth of a moustachioed cod… fish； over whose long bald crown three wisps of damp hair were carefully arranged； and a dried； dapperish； clean…shorn man； whose mouth seemed terrified lest it should be surprised without a smile。 Their first and second verdicts were recorded without the necessity for withdrawal； and Mr。 Bosengate was already sleepy when the third case was called。 The sight of khaki revived his drooping attention。 But what a weedy…looking specimen！ This prisoner had a truly nerveless pitiable dejected air。 If he had ever had a military bearing it had shrunk into him during his confinement。 His ill… shaped brown tunic； whose little brass buttons seemed trying to keep smiling； struck Mr。 Bosengate as ridiculously short； used though he was to such things。 'Absurd；' he thought'Lumbago！ Just where they ought to be covered！' Then the officer and gentleman stirred in him； and he added to himself： 'Still； there must be some distinction made！' The little soldier's visage had once perhaps been tanned； but was now the colour of dark dough； his large brown eyes with white showing below the iris； as so often in the eyes of very nervous peoplewandered from face to face； of judge； counsel； jury； and public。 There were hollows in his cheeks； his dark hair looked damp； around his neck he wore a bandage。 The commercial traveller on Mr。 Bosengate's left turned； and whispered： 〃Felo de se！ My hat！ what a guy！〃 Mr。 Bosengate pretended not to hearhe could not bear that fellow！and slowly wrote on a bit of paper： 〃Owen Lewis。〃 Welsh！ Well； he looked itnot at all an English face。 Attempted suicide not at all an English crime！ Suicide implied surrender； a putting…up of hands to Fateto say nothing of the religious aspect of the matter。 And suicide in khaki seemed to Mr。 Bosengate particularly abhorrent； like turning tail in face of the enemy； almost meriting the fate of a deserter。 He looked at the prisoner； trying not to give way to this prejudice。 And the prisoner seemed to look at him； though this； perhaps； was fancy。
The Counsel for the prosecution； a little； alert； grey； decided man； above military age； began detailing the circumstances of the crime。 Mr。 Bosengate； though not particularly sensitive to atmosphere； could perceive a sort of current running through the Court。 It was as if jury and public were thinking rhythmically in obedience to the same unexpressed prejudice of which he himself was conscious。 Even the Caesar…like pale face up there； presiding； seemed in its ironic serenity responding to that current。
〃Gentlemen of the jury； before I call my evidence； I direct your attention to the bandage the accused is still wearing。 He gave himself this wound with his Army razor； adding； if I may say so； insult to the injury he was inflicting on his country。 He pleads not guilty； and before the magistrates he said that absence from his wife was preying on his mind〃the advocate's close lips widened〃Well； gentlemen； if such an excuse is to weigh with us in these days； I'm sure I don't know what's to happen to the Empire。〃
'No； by George！' thought Mr。 Bosengate。
The evidence of the first witness； a room…mate who had caught
