the white people-第1章

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The　White　People

by　Frances　Hodgson　Burnett



TO　LIONEL　〃The　stars　come　nightly　to　the　sky；　The　tidal　wave　unto　the　sea；　Nor　time；　nor　space；　nor　deep；　nor　high　Can　keep　my　own　away　from　me。〃



THE　WHITE　PEOPLE

CHAPTER　I

Perhaps　the　things　which　happened　could　only　have　happened　to　me。　　I　do　not　know。　　I　never　heard　of　things　like　them　happening　to　any　one　else。　　But　I　am　not　sorry　they　did　happen。　　I　am　in　secret　deeply　and　strangely　glad。　　I　have　heard　other　people　say　thingsand　they　were　not　always　sad　people；　eitherwhich　made　me　feel　that　if　they　knew　what　I　know　it　would　seem　to　them　as　though　some　awesome；　heavy　load　they　had　always　dragged　about　with　them　had　fallen　from　their　shoulders。　　To　most　people　everything　is　so　uncertain　that　if　they　could　only　see　or　hear　and　know　something　clear　they　would　drop　upon　their　knees　and　give　thanks。　　That　was　what　I　felt　myself　before　I　found　out　so　strangely；　and　I　was　only　a　girl。　　That　is　why　I　intend　to　write　this　down　as　well　as　I　can。　　It　will　not　be　very　well　done；　because　I　never　was　clever　at　all；　and　always　found　it　difficult　to　talk。

I　say　that　perhaps　these　things　could　only　have　happened　to　me；　because；　as　I　look　back　over　my　life；　I　realize　that　it　has　always　been　a　rather　curious　one。　　Even　when　those　who　took　care　of　me　did　not　know　I　was　thinking　at　all；　I　had　begun　to　wonder　if　I　were　not　different　from　other　children。　　That　was；　of　course；　largely　because　Muircarrie　Castle　was　in　such　a　wild　and　remote　part　of　Scotland　that　when　my　few　relations　felt　they　must　pay　me　a　visit　as　a　mere　matter　of　duty；　their　journey　from　London；　or　their　pleasant　places　in　the　south　of　England；　seemed　to　them　like　a　pilgrimage　to　a　sort　of　savage　land；　and　when　a　conscientious　one　brought　a　child　to　play　with　me；　the　little　civilized　creature　was　as　frightened　of　me　as　I　was　of　it。　　My　shyness　and　fear　of　its　strangeness　made　us　both　dumb。　　No　doubt　I　seemed　like　a　new　breed　of　inoffensive　little　barbarian；　knowing　no　tongue　but　its　own。

A　certain　clannish　etiquette　made　it　seem　necessary　that　a　relation　should　pay　me　a　visit　sometimes；　because　I　was　in　a　way　important。　　The　huge；　frowning　feudal　castle　standing　upon　its　battlemented　rock　was　mine；　I　was　a　great　heiress；　and　I　was；　so　to　speak；　the　chieftainess　of　the　clan。　　But　I　was　a　plain；　undersized　little　child；　and　had　no　attraction　for　any　one　but　Jean　Braidfute；　a　distant　cousin；　who　took　care　of　me；　and　Angus　Macayre；　who　took　care　of　the　library；　and　who　was　a　distant　relative　also。　　They　were　both　like　me　in　the　fact　that　they　were　not　given　to　speech；　but　sometimes　we　talked　to　one　another；　and　I　knew　they　were　fond　of　me；　as　I　was　fond　of　them。　　They　were　really　all　I　had。

When　I　was　a　little　girl　I　did　not；　of　course；　understand　that　I　was　an　important　person；　and　I　could　not　have　realized　the　significance　of　being　an　heiress。　　I　had　always　lived　in　the　castle；　and　was　used　to　its　hugeness；　of　which　I　only　knew　corners。　　Until　I　was　seven　years　old；　I　think；　I　imagined　all　but　very　poor　people　lived　in　castles　and　were　saluted　by　every　one　they　passed。　　It　seemed　probable　that　all　little　girls　had　a　piper　who　strode　up　and　down　the　terrace　and　played　on　the　bagpipes　when　guests　were　served　in　the　dining…hall。

My　piper's　name　was　Feargus；　and　in　time　I　found　out　that　the　guests　from　London　could　not　endure　the　noise　he　made　when　he　marched　to　and　fro；　proudly　swinging　his　kilts　and　treading　like　a　stag　on　a　hillside。　　It　was　an　insult　to　tell　him　to　stop　playing；　because　it　was　his　religion　to　believe　that　The　Muircarrie　must　be　piped　proudly　to；　and　his　ancestors　had　been　pipers　to　the　head　of　the　clan　for　five　generations。　　It　was　his　duty　to　march　round　the　dining…hall　and　play　while　the　guests　feasted；　but　I　was　obliged　in　the　end　to　make　him　believe　that　he　could　be　heard　better　from　the　terrace　because　when　he　was　outside　his　music　was　not　spoiled　by　the　sound　of　talking。　　It　was　very　difficult；　at　first。　　But　because　I　was　his　chieftainess；　and　had　learned　how　to　give　orders　in　a　rather　proud；　stern　little　voice；　he　knew　he　must　obey。

Even　this　kind　of　thing　may　show　that　my　life　was　a　peculiar　one；　but　the　strangest　part　of　it　was　that；　while　I　was　at　the　head　of　so　many　people；　I　did　not　really　belong　to　any　one；　and　I　did　not　know　that　this　was　unusual。　　One　of　my　early　memories　is　that　I　heard　an　under…　nursemaid　say　to　another　this　curious　thing：　　〃Both　her　father　and　mother　were　dead　when　she　was　born。〃　　I　did　not　even　know　that　was　a　remarkable　thing　to　say　until　I　was　several　years　older　and　Jean　Braidfute　told　me　what　had　been　meant。

My　father　and　mother　had　both　been　very　young　and　beautiful　and　wonderful。　　It　was　said　that　my　father　was　the　handsomest　chieftain　in　Scotland；　and　that　his　wife　was　as　beautiful　as　he　was。　　They　came　to　Muircarrie　as　soon　as　they　were　married　and　lived　a　splendid　year　there　together。　　Sometimes　they　were　quite　alone；　and　spent　their　days　fishing　or　riding　or　wandering　on　the　moor　together；　or　reading　by　the　fire　in　the　library　the　ancient　books　Angus　Macayre　found　for　them。　　The　library　was　a　marvelous　place；　and　Macayre　knew　every　volume　in　it。　　They　used　to　sit　and　read　like　children　among　fairy　stories；　and　then　they　would　persuade　Macayre　to　tell　them　the　ancient　tales　he　knewof　the　days　when　Agricola　forced　his　way　in　among　the　Men　of　the　Woods；　who　would　die　any　savage　death　rather　than　be　conquered。　　Macayre　was　a　sort　of　heirloom　himself；　and　he　knew　and　believed　them　all。

I　don't　know　how　it　was　that　I　myself　seemed　to　see　my　young　father　and　mother　so　clearly　and　to　know　how　radiant　and　wildly　in　love　they　were。　　Surely　Jean　Braidfute　had　not　words　to　tell　me。　　But　I　knew。　　So　I　understood；　in　a　way　of　my　own；　what　happened　to　my　mother　one　brilliant　late　October　afternoon　when　my　father　was　brought　home　deadfollowed　by　the　guests　who　had　gone　out　shooting　with　him。　　His　foot　had　caught　in　a　tuft　of　heather；　and　his　gun　in　going　off　had　killed　him。　　One　moment　he　had　been　the　handsomest　young　chieftain　in　Scotland；　and　when　he　was　brought　home　they　could　not　have　let　my　mother　see　his　face。

But　she　never　asked　to　see　it。　　She　was　on　the　terrace　which　juts　over　the　rock　the　castle　is　built　on；　and　which　looks　out　over　the　purple　world　of　climbing　moor。　　She　saw　from　there　the　returning　party　of　shooters　and　gillies　winding　its　way　slowly　through　the　heather；　following　a　burden　carried　on　a　stretcher　of　fir　boughs。　　Some　of　her　women　guests　were　with　her；　and　one　of　them　said　afterward　that　when　she　first　caught　sight　of　the　moving　figures　she　got　up　slowly　and　crept　to　the　stone　balustrade　with　a　crouching　movement　almost　like　a　young　leopardess　preparing　to　spring。　　But　she　only　watched；　making　neither　sound　nor　movement　until　the　cortege　was　near　enough　for　her　to　see　that　every　man's　head　was　bowed　upon　his　breast；　and　not　one　was　covered。

Then　she　said；　quite　slowly；　〃Theyhave　taken　offtheir　bonnets；〃　and　fell　upon　the　terrace　like　a　dropped　stone。

It　was　because　of　this　that　the　girl　said　that　she　was　dead　when　I　was　born。　　It　must　have　seemed　almost　as　if　she　were　not　a　living　thing。　　She　did　not　open　her　eyes　or　make　a　sound；　she　lay　white　and　cold。　　The　celebrated　physicians　who　came　from　London　talked　of　catalepsy　and　afterward　wrote　scientific　articles　which　tried　to　explain　her　condition。　　She　did　not　know　when　I　was　born。　　She　died　a　few　minutes　after　I　uttered　my　first　cry。

I　know　only　one　thing　more；　and　that　Jean　Braidfute　told　me　after　I　grew　up。　　Jean　had　been　my　father's　nursery　governess　when　he　wore　his　first　kilts；　and　she　loved　my　mother　fondly。

〃I　knelt　by　her　bed　and　held　her　hand　and　watched　her　face　for　three　hours　after　they　first　laid　her　down；〃　she　said。　　〃And　my　eyes　were　so　near　her　every　moment　that　I　saw　a　thing　the　others　did　not　know　her　well　enough；　or　love　her　well　enough；　to　see。

〃The　first　hour　she　was　like　a　dead　thing　aye；　like　a　dead　thing　that　had　never　lived。　　But　when　the　hand　of　the　clock　passed　the　last　second；　and　the　new　hour　began；　I　bent　closer　to　her　because　I　saw　a　change　stealing　over　her。　　It　was　not　colorit　was　not　even　a　shadow　of　a　motion。　　It　was　somet