the white people-第12章

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t　snows　of　white；　swathing　mist。　　Only　here　and　there　dark　fir…trees　showed　themselves　above　it；　and　now　and　then　the　whiteness　thinned　or　broke　and　drifted。　　It　was　as　I　had　wanted　him　to　see　itjust　as　I　had　wanted　to　walk　through　it　with　him。

We　had　met　in　the　hall　as　we　had　planned；　and；　wrapped　in　our　plaids　because　the　early　morning　air　was　cold；　we　tramped　away　together。　　No　one　but　myself　could　ever　realize　what　it　was　like。　　I　had　never　known　that　there　could　be　such　a　feeling　of　companionship　in　the　world。　　It　would　not　have　been　necessary　for　us　to　talk　at　all　if　we　had　felt　silent。　　We　should　have　been　saying　things　to　each　other　without　words。　　But　we　did　talk　as　we　walkedin　quiet　voices　which　seemed　made　quieter　by　the　mist；　and　of　quiet　things　which　such　voices　seemed　to　belong　to。

We　crossed　the　park　to　a　stile　in　a　hedge　where　a　path　led　at　once　on　to　the　moor。　　Part　of　the　park　itself　had　once　been　moorland；　and　was　dark　with　slender　firs　and　thick　grown　with　heather　and　broom。　　On　the　moor　the　mist　grew　thicker；　and　if　I　had　not　so　well　known　the　path　we　might　have　lost　ourselves　in　it。　　Also　I　knew　by　heart　certain　little　streams　that　rushed　and　made　guiding　sounds　which　were　sometimes　loud　whispers　and　sometimes　singing　babbles。　　The　damp；　sweet　scent　of　fern　and　heather　was　in　our　nostrils；　as　we　climbed　we　breathed　its　freshness。

〃There　is　a　sort　of　unearthly　loveliness　in　it　all；〃　Hector　MacNairn　said　to　me。　　His　voice　was　rather　like　his　mother's。　　It　always　seemed　to　say　so　much　more　than　his　words。

〃We　might　be　ghosts；〃　I　answered。　　〃We　might　be　some　of　those　the　mist　hides　because　they　like　to　be　hidden。〃

〃You　would　not　be　afraid　if　you　met　one　of　them？〃　he　said。

〃No。　　I　think　I　am　sure　of　that。　　I　should　feel　that　it　was　only　like　myself；　and；　if　I　could　hear；　might　tell　me　things　I　want　to　know。〃

〃What　do　you　want　to　know？〃　he　asked　me；　very　low。　　〃You！〃

〃Only　what　everybody　wants　to　knowthat　it　is　really　AWAKENING　free；　ready　for　wonderful　new　things；　finding　oneself　in　the　midst　of　wonders。　　I　don't　mean　angels　with　harps　and　crowns；　but　beauty　such　as　we　see　now；　only　seeing　it　without　burdens　of　fears　before　and　behind　us。　　And　knowing　there　is　no　reason　to　be　afraid。　　We　have　all　been　so　afraid。　　We　don't　know　how　afraid　we　have　beenof　everything。〃

I　stopped　among　the　heather　and　threw　my　arms　out　wide。　　I　drew　in　a　great；　joyous　morning　breath。

〃Free　like　that！　　It　is　the　freeness；　the　light；　splendid　freeness；　I　think　of　most。〃

〃The　freeness！〃　he　repeated。　　〃Yes；　the　freeness！〃

〃As　for　beauty；〃　I　almost　whispered；　in　a　sort　of　reverence　for　visions　I　remembered；　〃I　have　stood　on　this　moor　a　thousand　times　and　seen　loveliness　which　made　me　tremble。　　One's　soul　could　want　no　more　in　any　life。　　But　‘Out　on　the　Hillside'　I　KNEW　I　was　part　of　it；　and　it　was　ecstasy。　　That　was　the　freeness。〃

〃Yesit　was　the　freeness；〃　he　answered。

We　brushed　through　the　heather　and　the　bracken；　and　flower…bells　shook　showers　of　radiant　drops　upon　us。　　The　mist　wavered　and　sometimes　lifted　before　us；　and　opened　up　mystic　vistas　to　veil　them　again　a　few　minutes　later。　　The　sun　tried　to　break　through；　and　sometimes　we　walked　in　a　golden　haze。

We　fell　into　silence。　　Now　and　then　I　glanced　sidewise　at　my　companion　as　we　made　our　soundless　way　over　the　thick　moss。　　He　looked　so　strong　and　beautiful。　　His　tall　body　was　so　fine；　his　shoulders　so　broad　and　splendid！　　How　could　it　be！　　How　could　it　be！　　As　he　tramped　beside　me　he　was　thinking　deeply；　and　he　knew　he　need　not　talk　to　me。　　That　made　me　gladthat　he　should　know　me　so　well　and　feel　me　so　near。　　That　was　what　he　felt　when　he　was　with　his　mother；　that　she　understood　and　that　at　times　neither　of　them　needed　words。

Until　we　had　reached　the　patch　of　gorse　where　we　intended　to　end　our　walk　we　did　not　speak　at　all。　　He　was　thinking　of　things　which　led　him　far。　　I　knew　that；　though　I　did　not　know　what　they　were。　　When　we　reached　the　golden　blaze　we　had　seen　the　evening　before　it　was　a　flame　of　gold　again；　becauseit　was　only　for　a　few　momentsthe　mist　had　blown　apart　and　the　sun　was　shining　on　it。

As　we　stood　in　the　midst　of　it　togetherOh！　how　strange　and　beautiful　it　was！Mr。　MacNairn　came　back。　　That　was　what　it　seemed　to　methat　he　came　back。　　He　stood　quite　still　a　moment　and　looked　about　him；　and　then　he　stretched　out　his　arms　as　I　had　stretched　out　mine。　　But　he　did　it　slowly；　and　a　light　came　into　his　face。

〃If；　after　it　was　over；　a　man　awakened　as　you　said　and　found　himselfthe　self　he　knew；　but　light；　free；　splendidremembering　all　the　ages　of　dark；　unknowing　dread；　of　horror　of　some　black；　aimless　plunge；　and　suddenly　seeing　all　the　childish　uselessness　of　ithow　he　would　stand　and　smile！　　How　he　would　stand　and　SMILE！〃

Never　had　I　understood　anything　more　　clearly　than　I　understood　then。　　Yes；　yes！　　That　would　be　it。　　Remembering　all　the　waste　of　fear；　how　he　would　stand　and　SMILE！

He　was　smiling　himself；　the　golden　gorse　about　him　already　losing　its　flame　in　the　light　returning　mist…wraiths　closing　again　over　it；　when　I　heard　a　sound　far　away　and　high　up　the　moor。　　It　sounded　like　the　playing　of　a　piper。　　He　did　not　seem　to　notice　it。

〃We　shall　be　shut　in　again；〃　he　said。　　〃How　mysterious　it　is；　this　opening　and　closing！　　I　like　it　more　than　anything　else。　　Let　us　sit　down；　Ysobel。〃

He　spread　the　plaid　we　had　brought　to　sit　on；　and　laid　on　it　the　little　strapped　basket　Jean　had　made　ready　for　us。　　He　shook　the　mist　drops　from　our　own　plaids；　and　as　I　was　about　to　sit　down　I　stopped　a　moment　to　listen。

〃That　is　a　tune　I　never　heard　on　the　pipes　before；〃　I　said。　　〃What　is　a　piper　doing　out　on　the　moor　so　early？〃

He　listened　also。　　〃It　must　be　far　away。　　I　don't　hear　it；〃　he　said。　　〃Perhaps　it　is　a　bird　whistling。〃

〃It　is　far　away；〃　I　answered；　〃but　it　is　not　a　bird。　　It's　the　pipes；　and　playing　such　a　strange　tune。　　There！　　It　has　stopped！〃

But　it　was　not　silent　long；　I　heard　the　tune　begin　again　much　nearer；　and　the　piper　was　plainly　coming　toward　us。　　I　turned　my　head。

The　mist　was　clearing；　and　floated　about　like　a　thin　veil　through　which　one　could　see　objects。　　At　a　short　distance　above　us　on　the　moor　I　saw　something　moving。　　It　was　a　man　who　was　playing　the　pipes。　　It　was　the　piper；　and　almost　at　once　I　knew　him；　because　it　was　actually　my　own　Feargus；　stepping　proudly　through　the　heather　with　his　step　like　a　stag　on　the　hills。　　His　head　was　held　high；　and　his　face　had　a　sort　of　elated　delight　in　it　as　if　he　were　enjoying　himself　and　the　morning　and　the　music　in　a　new　way。　　I　was　so　surprised　that　I　rose　to　my　feet　and　called　to　him。

〃Feargus！〃　I　cried。　　〃What〃

I　knew　he　heard　me；　because　he　turned　and　looked　at　me　with　the　most　extraordinary　smile。　　He　was　usually　a　rather　grave…faced　man；　but　this　smile　had　a　kind　of　startling　triumph　in　it。　　He　certainly　heard　me；　for　he　whipped　off　his　bonnet　in　a　salute　which　was　as　triumphant　as　the　smile。　　But　he　did　not　answer；　and　actually　passed　in　and　out　of　sight　in　the　mist。

When　I　rose　Mr。　MacNairn　had　risen；　too。　　When　I　turned　to　speak　in　my　surprise；　he　had　fixed　on　me　his　watchful　look。

〃Imagine　its　being　Feargus　at　this　hour！〃　I　exclaimed。　　〃And　why　did　he　pass　by　in　such　a　hurry　without　answering？　　He　must　have　been　to　a　wedding　and　have　been　up　all　night。　　He　looked〃　　I　stopped　a　second　and　laughed。

〃How　did　he　look？〃　Mr。　MacNairn　asked。

〃Pale！　　That　won't　dothough　he　certainly　didn't　look　ill。〃　　I　laughed　again。　　〃I'm　laughing　because　he　looked　almost　like　one　of　the　White　People。〃

〃Are　you　sure　it　was　Feargus？〃　he　said。

〃Quite　sure。　　No　one　else　is　the　least　like　Feargus。　　Didn't　you　see　him　yourself？〃

〃I　don't　know　him　as　well　as　you　do；　and　there　was　the　mist；〃　was　his　answer。　　〃But　he　certainly　was　not　one　of　the　White　People　when　I　saw　him　last　night。〃

I　wondered　why　he　looked　as　he　did　when　he　took　my　hand　and　drew　me　down　to　my　place　on　the　plaid　again。　　He　did　not　let　it　go　when　he　sat　down　by　my　side。　　He　held　it　in　his　own　large；　handsome　one；　looking　down　on　it　a　moment　or　so；　and　then　he　bent　his　head　and　kissed　it　long　and　slowly　two　or　three　times。

〃Dear　little　Ysobel！〃　he　said。　　〃Beloved；　s