the holly-tree-第4章

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home；　I　had　dreamed　of　that　friend；　sometimes　as　still　living；

sometimes　as　returning　from　the　world　of　shadows　to　comfort　me；

always　as　being　beautiful；　placid；　and　happy；　never　in　association

with　any　approach　to　fear　or　distress。　　It　was　at　a　lonely　Inn　in　a

wide　moorland　place；　that　I　halted　to　pass　the　night。　　When　I　had

looked　from　my　bedroom　window　over　the　waste　of　snow　on　which　the

moon　was　shining；　I　sat　down　by　my　fire　to　write　a　letter。　　I　had

always；　until　that　hour；　kept　it　within　my　own　breast　that　I　dreamed

every　night　of　the　dear　lost　one。　　But　in　the　letter　that　I　wrote　I

recorded　the　circumstance；　and　added　that　I　felt　much　interested　in

proving　whether　the　subject　of　my　dream　would　still　be　faithful　to

me；　travel…tired；　and　in　that　remote　place。　　No。　　I　lost　the　beloved

figure　of　my　vision　in　parting　with　the　secret。　　My　sleep　has　never

looked　upon　it　since；　in　sixteen　years；　but　once。　　I　was　in　Italy；

and　awoke　（or　seemed　to　awake）；　the　well…remembered　voice　distinctly

in　my　ears；　conversing　with　it。　　I　entreated　it；　as　it　rose　above　my

bed　and　soared　up　to　the　vaulted　roof　of　the　old　room；　to　answer　me

a　question　I　had　asked　touching　the　Future　Life。　　My　hands　were

still　outstretched　towards　it　as　it　vanished；　when　I　heard　a　bell

ringing　by　the　garden　wall；　and　a　voice　in　the　deep　stillness　of　the

night　calling　on　all　good　Christians　to　pray　for　the　souls　of　the

dead；　it　being　All　Souls'　Eve。



To　return　to　the　Holly…Tree。　　When　I　awoke　next　day；　it　was　freezing

hard；　and　the　lowering　sky　threatened　more　snow。　　My　breakfast

cleared　away；　I　drew　my　chair　into　its　former　place；　and；　with　the

fire　getting　so　much　the　better　of　the　landscape　that　I　sat　in

twilight；　resumed　my　Inn　remembrances。



That　was　a　good　Inn　down　in　Wiltshire　where　I　put　up　once；　in　the

days　of　the　hard　Wiltshire　ale；　and　before　all　beer　was　bitterness。

It　was　on　the　skirts　of　Salisbury　Plain；　and　the　midnight　wind　that

rattled　my　lattice　window　came　moaning　at　me　from　Stonehenge。　　There

was　a　hanger…on　at　that　establishment　（a　supernaturally　preserved

Druid　I　believe　him　to　have　been；　and　to　be　still）；　with　long　white

hair；　and　a　flinty　blue　eye　always　looking　afar　off；　who　claimed　to

have　been　a　shepherd；　and　who　seemed　to　be　ever　watching　for　the

reappearance；　on　the　verge　of　the　horizon；　of　some　ghostly　flock　of

sheep　that　had　been　mutton　for　many　ages。　　He　was　a　man　with　a　weird

belief　in　him　that　no　one　could　count　the　stones　of　Stonehenge

twice；　and　make　the　same　number　of　them；　likewise；　that　any　one　who

counted　them　three　times　nine　times；　and　then　stood　in　the　centre

and　said；　〃I　dare！〃　would　behold　a　tremendous　apparition；　and　be

stricken　dead。　　He　pretended　to　have　seen　a　bustard　（I　suspect　him

to　have　been　familiar　with　the　dodo）；　in　manner　following：　　He　was

out　upon　the　plain　at　the　close　of　a　late　autumn　day；　when　he　dimly

discerned；　going　on　before　him　at　a　curious　fitfully　bounding　pace；

what　he　at　first　supposed　to　be　a　gig…umbrella　that　had　been　blown

from　some　conveyance；　but　what　he　presently　believed　to　be　a　lean

dwarf　man　upon　a　little　pony。　　Having　followed　this　object　for　some

distance　without　gaining　on　it；　and　having　called　to　it　many　times

without　receiving　any　answer；　he　pursued　it　for　miles　and　miles；

when；　at　length　coming　up　with　it；　he　discovered　it　to　be　the　last

bustard　in　Great　Britain；　degenerated　into　a　wingless　state；　and

running　along　the　ground。　　Resolved　to　capture　him　or　perish　in　the

attempt；　he　closed　with　the　bustard；　but　the　bustard；　who　had　formed

a　counter…resolution　that　he　should　do　neither；　threw　him；　stunned

him；　and　was　last　seen　making　off　due　west。　　This　weird　main；　at

that　stage　of　metempsychosis；　may　have　been　a　sleep…walker　or　an

enthusiast　or　a　robber；　but　I　awoke　one　night　to　find　him　in　the

dark　at　my　bedside；　repeating　the　Athanasian　Creed　in　a　terrific

voice。　　I　paid　my　bill　next　day；　and　retired　from　the　county　with

all　possible　precipitation。



That　was　not　a　commonplace　story　which　worked　itself　out　at　a　little

Inn　in　Switzerland；　while　I　was　staying　there。　　It　was　a　very　homely

place；　in　a　village　of　one　narrow　zigzag　street；　among　mountains；

and　you　went　in　at　the　main　door　through　the　cow…house；　and　among

the　mules　and　the　dogs　and　the　fowls；　before　ascending　a　great　bare

staircase　to　the　rooms；　which　were　all　of　unpainted　wood；　without

plastering　or　papering；like　rough　packing…cases。　　Outside　there

was　nothing　but　the　straggling　street；　a　little　toy　church　with　a

copper…coloured　steeple；　a　pine　forest；　a　torrent；　mists；　and

mountain…sides。　　A　young　man　belonging　to　this　Inn　had　disappeared

eight　weeks　before　（it　was　winter…time）；　and　was　supposed　to　have

had　some　undiscovered　love　affair；　and　to　have　gone　for　a　soldier。

He　had　got　up　in　the　night；　and　dropped　into　the　village　street　from

the　loft　in　which　he　slept　with　another　man；　and　he　had　done　it　so

quietly；　that　his　companion　and　fellow…labourer　had　heard　no

movement　when　he　was　awakened　in　the　morning；　and　they　said；　〃Louis；

where　is　Henri？〃　　They　looked　for　him　high　and　low；　in　vain；　and

gave　him　up。　　Now；　outside　this　Inn；　there　stood；　as　there　stood

outside　every　dwelling　in　the　village；　a　stack　of　firewood；　but　the

stack　belonging　to　the　Inn　was　higher　than　any　of　the　rest；　because

the　Inn　was　the　richest　house；　and　burnt　the　most　fuel。　　It　began　to

be　noticed；　while　they　were　looking　high　and　low；　that　a　Bantam

cock；　part　of　the　live　stock　of　the　Inn；　put　himself　wonderfully　out

of　his　way　to　get　to　the　top　of　this　wood…stack；　and　that　he　would

stay　there　for　hours　and　hours；　crowing；　until　he　appeared　in　danger

of　splitting　himself。　　Five　weeks　went　on；six　weeks；and　still

this　terrible　Bantam；　neglecting　his　domestic　affairs；　was　always　on

the　top　of　the　wood…stack；　crowing　the　very　eyes　out　of　his　head。

By　this　time　it　was　perceived　that　Louis　had　become　inspired　with　a

violent　animosity　towards　the　terrible　Bantam；　and　one　morning　he

was　seen　by　a　woman；　who　sat　nursing　her　goitre　at　a　little　window

in　a　gleam　of　sun；　to　catch　up　a　rough　billet　of　wood；　with　a　great

oath；　hurl　it　at　the　terrible　Bantam　crowing　on　the　wood…stack；　and

bring　him　down　dead。　　Hereupon　the　woman；　with　a　sudden　light　in　her

mind；　stole　round　to　the　back　of　the　wood…stack；　and；　being　a　good

climber；　as　all　those　women　are；　climbed　up；　and　soon　was　seen　upon

the　summit；　screaming；　looking　down　the　hollow　within；　and　crying；

〃Seize　Louis；　the　murderer！　　Ring　the　church　bell！　　Here　is　the

body！〃　　I　saw　the　murderer　that　day；　and　I　saw　him　as　I　sat　by　my

fire　at　the　Holly…Tree　Inn；　and　I　see　him　now；　lying　shackled　with

cords　on　the　stable　litter；　among　the　mild　eyes　and　the　smoking

breath　of　the　cows；　waiting　to　be　taken　away　by　the　police；　and

stared　at　by　the　fearful　village。　　A　heavy　animal；the　dullest

animal　in　the　stables；with　a　stupid　head；　and　a　lumpish　face

devoid　of　any　trace　of　insensibility；　who　had　been；　within　the

knowledge　of　the　murdered　youth；　an　embezzler　of　certain　small

moneys　belonging　to　his　master；　and　who　had　taken　this　hopeful　mode

of　putting　a　possible　accuser　out　of　his　way。　　All　of　which　he

confessed　next　day；　like　a　sulky　wretch　who　couldn't　be　troubled　any

more；　now　that　they　had　got　hold　of　him；　and　meant　to　make　an　end　of

him。　　I　saw　him　once　again；　on　the　day　of　my　departure　from　the　Inn。

In　that　Canton　the　headsman　still　does　his　office　with　a　sword；　and

I　came　upon　this　murderer　sitting　bound；　to　a　chair；　with　his　eyes

bandaged；　on　a　scaffold　in　a　little　market…place。　　In　that　instant；

a　great　sword　（loaded　with　quicksilver　in　the　thick　part　of　the

blade）　swept　round　him　like　a　gust　of　wind　or　fire；　and　there　was　no

such　creature　in　the　world。　　My　wonder　was；　not　that　he　was　so

suddenly　dispatched；　but　that　any　head　was　left　unreaped；　within　a

radius　of　fifty　yards　of　that　tremendous　sickle。



That　was　a　good　Inn；　too；　with　the　kind；　cheerf