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第19章

the riverman-第19章

小说: the riverman 字数: 每页4000字

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〃I threw a little bread myself。〃



〃Threw bread?〃 repeated Orde。  〃I didn't see you。〃



〃The moon is made of green cheese;〃 she mocked him; 〃and there are 

countries where men's heads do grow beneath their shoulders。〃  She 

moved gracefully away toward Jane Hubbard。  〃Do you Western 

'business men' never deal in figures of speech as well as figures of 

the other sort?〃 she wafted back to him over her shoulder。



〃I was very stupid;〃 acknowledged Orde; following her。



She stopped and faced him in the middle of the room; smiling 

quizzically。



〃Well?〃 she challenged。



〃Well; what?〃 asked Orde; puzzled。



〃I thought perhaps you wanted to ask me something。〃



〃Why?〃



〃Your following me;〃 she explained; the corners of her mouth 

smiling。  〃I had turned away〃



〃I just wanted to talk to you;〃 said Orde。



〃And you always get what you want;〃 she repeated。  〃Well?〃 she 

conceded; with a shrug of mock resignation。  But the four other men 

here cut in with a demand。



〃Music!〃 they clamoured。  〃We want music!〃



With a nod; Miss Bishop turned to the piano; sweeping aside her 

white draperies as she sat。  She struck a few soft chords; and then; 

her long hands wandering idly and softly up and down the keys; she 

smiled at them over her shoulder。



〃What shall it be?〃 she inquired。



Some one thrust an open song…book on the rack in front of her。  The 

others gathered close about; leaning forward to see。



Song followed song; at first quickly; then at longer intervals。  At 

last the members of the chorus dropped away one by one to 

occupations of their own。  The girl still sat at the piano; her head 

thrown back idly; her hands wandering softly in and out of melodies 

and modulations。  Watching her; Orde finally saw only the shimmer of 

her white figure; and the white outline of her head and throat。  All 

the rest of the room was gray from the concentration of his gaze。  

At last her hands fell in her lap。  She sat looking straight ahead 

of her。



Orde at once arose and came to her。



〃That was a wonderfully quaint and beautiful thing;〃 said he。  〃What 

was it?〃



She turned to him; and he saw that the mocking had gone from her 

eyes and mouth; leaving them quite simple; like a child's。



〃Did you like it?〃 she asked。



〃Yes;〃 said Orde。  He hesitated and stammered awkwardly。  〃It was so 

still and soothing; it made me think of the river sometimes about 

dusk。  What was it?〃



〃It wasn't anything。  I was improvising。〃



〃You made it up yourself?〃



〃It was myself; I suppose。  I love to build myself a garden; and 

wander on until I lose myself in it。  I'm glad there was a river in 

the gardena nice; still; twilight river。〃



She flashed up at him; her head sidewise。



〃There isn't always。〃  She struck a crashing discord on the piano。



Every one looked up at the sudden noise of it。



〃Oh; don't stop!〃 they cried in chorus; as though each had been 

listening intently。



The girl laughed up at Orde in amusement。  Somehow this flash of an 

especial understanding between them to the exclusion of the others 

sent a warm glow to his heart。



〃I do wish you had your harp here;〃 said Jane Hubbard; coming 

indolently forward。  〃You just ought to hear her play the harp;〃 she 

told the rest。  〃It's just the best thing you ever DID hear!〃



At this moment the outside door opened to admit Mr and Mrs。 Hubbard; 

who had; according to their usual Sunday custom; been spending the 

evening with a neighbour。  This was the signal for departure。  The 

company began to break up。



Orde pushed his broad shoulders in to screen Carroll Bishop from the 

others。



〃Are you staying here?〃 be asked。



She opened her eyes wide at his brusqueness。



〃I'm visiting Jane;〃 she replied at length; with an affectation of 

demureness。



〃Are you going to be here long?〃 was Orde's next question。



〃About a month。〃



〃I am coming to see you;〃 announced Orde。  〃Good…night。〃



He took her hand; dropped it; and followed the others into the hall; 

leaving her standing by the lamp。  She watched him until the outer 

door had closed behind him。  Not once did he look back。  Jane 

Hubbard; returning after a moment from the hall; found her at the 

piano again; her head slightly one side; playing with painful and 

accurate exactness a simple one…finger melody。



Orde walked home down the hill in company with the Incubus。  Neither 

had anything to say; Orde because he was absorbed in thought; the 

Incubus because nothing occurred to draw from him his one remark。  

Their feet clipped sharply against the tar walks; or rang more 

hollow on the boards。  Overhead the stars twinkled through the 

still…bare branches of the trees。  With few exceptions the houses 

were dark。  People 〃retired〃 early in Redding。  An occasional hall 

light burned dimly; awaiting some one's return。  At the gate of the 

Orde place; Orde roused himself to say good…night。  He let himself 

into the dim…lighted hall; hung up his hat; and turned out the gas。  

For some time he stood in the dark; quite motionless; then; with the 

accuracy of long habitude; he walked confidently to the narrow 

stairs and ascended them。  Subconsciously he avoided the creaking 

step; but outside his mother's door he stopped; arrested by a 

greeting from within。



〃That you; Jack?〃 queried Grandma Orde。



For answer Orde pushed open the door; which stood an inch or so 

ajar; and entered。  A dim light from a distant street…lamp; filtered 

through the branches of a tree; flickered against the ceiling。  By 

its aid he made out the great square bed; and divined the tiny 

figure of his mother。  He seated himself sidewise on the edge of the 

bed。



〃Go to Jane's?〃 queried grandma in a low voice; to avoid awakening 

grandpa; who slept in the adjoining room。



〃Yes;〃 replied Orde; in the same tone。



〃Who was there?〃



〃Oh; about the usual crowd。〃



He fell into an abstracted silence; which endured for several 

minutes。



〃Mother;〃 said he abruptly; at last; 〃I've met the girl I want for 

my wife。〃



Grandma Orde sat up in bed。



〃Who is she?〃 she demanded。



〃Her name is Carroll Bishop;〃 said Orde; 〃and she's visiting Jane 

Hubbard。〃



〃Yes; but WHO is she?〃 insisted Grandma Orde。  〃Where is she from?〃



Orde stared at her in the dim light。



〃Why; mother;〃 he repeated for the second time that day; 〃blest if I 

know that!〃







X





Orde was up and out at six o'clock the following morning。  By eight 

he had reported for work at Daly's mill; where; with the assistance 

of a portion of the river crew; he was occupied in sorting the logs 

in the booms。  Not until six o'clock in the evening did the whistle 

blow for the shut…down。  Then he hastened home; to find that Newmark 

had preceded him by some few moments and was engaged in conversation 

with Grandma Orde。  The young man was talking easily; though rather 

precisely and with brevity。  He nodded to Orde and finished his 

remark。



After supper Orde led the way up two flights of narrow stairs to his 

own room。  This was among the gables; a chamber of strangely 

diversified ceiling; which slanted here and there according to the 

demands of the roof outside。



〃Well;〃 said he; 〃I've made up my mind to…day to go in with you。  It 

may not work out; but it's a good chance; and I want to get in 

something that looks like money。  I don't know who you are; nor how 

much of a business man you are or what your experience is; but I'll 

risk it。〃



〃I'm putting in twenty thousand dollars;〃 pointed out Newmark。



〃And I'm putting in my everlasting reputation;〃 said Orde。  〃If we 

tell these fellows that we'll get out their logs for them; and then 

don't do it; I'll be DEAD around here。〃



〃So that's about a stand…off;〃 said Newmark。  〃I'm betting twenty 

thousand on w

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