the dark flower-第13章

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out　his　knife；　he　would　never　be　able　to　cut　and　hold　her　at　the
same　time。　　For　a　moment　he　thought　he　had　better　climb　up　again
and　slack　off　the　cord；　but　he　could　see　by　her　face　that　she　was
getting　frightened；　he　could　feel　it　by　the　quivering　of　her　body。

〃If　I　heave　you　up；〃　he　said；　〃can　you　get　hold　again　above？〃　　And；
without　waiting　for　an　answer；　he　heaved。　　She　caught　hold
frantically。

〃Hold　on　just　for　a　second。〃

She　did　not　answer；　but　he　saw　that　her　face　had　gone　very　white。
He　snatched　out　his　knife　and　cut　the　cord。　　She　clung　just　for
that　moment；　then　came　loose　into　his　arms；　and　he　hauled　her　to
him　against　the　trunk。　　Safe　there；　she　buried　her　face　on　his
shoulder。　　He　began　to　murmur　to　her　and　smooth　her　softly；　with
quite　a　feeling　of　its　being　his　business　to　smooth　her　like　this；
to　protect　her。　　He　knew　she　was　crying；　but　she　let　no　sound
escape；　and　he　was　very　careful　not　to　show　that　he　knew；　for　fear
she　should　feel　ashamed。　　He　wondered　if　he　ought　to　kiss　her。　　At
last　he　did；　on　the　top　of　her　head；　very　gently。　　Then　she　put　up
her　face　and　said　she　was　a　beast。　　And　he　kissed　her　again　on　an
eyebrow。

After　that　she　seemed　all　right；　and　very　gingerly　they　descended
to　the　ground；　where　shadows　were　beginning　to　lengthen　over　the
fern　and　the　sun　to　slant　into　their　eyes。


XIII


The　night　after　the　wedding　the　boy　stood　at　the　window　of　his
pleasant　attic　bedroom；　with　one　wall　sloping；　and　a　faint　smell　of
mice。　　He　was　tired　and　excited；　and　his　brain；　full　of　pictures。
This　was　his　first　wedding；　and　he　was　haunted　by　a　vision　of　his
sister's　little　white　form；　and　her　face　with　its　starry　eyes。　　She
was　gonehis　no　more！　　How　fearful　the　Wedding　March　had　sounded
on　that　organthat　awful　old　wheezer；　and　the　sermon！　　One　didn't
want　to　hear　that　sort　of　thing　when　one　felt　inclined　to　cry。
Even　Gordy　had　looked　rather　boiled　when　he　was　giving　her　away。
With　perfect　distinctness　he　could　still　see　the　group　before　the
altar　rails；　just　as　if　he　had　not　been　a　part　of　it　himself。　　Cis
in　her　white；　Sylvia　in　fluffy　grey；　his　impassive　brother…in…law's
tall　figure；　Gordy　looking　queer　in　a　black　coat；　with　a　very
yellow　face；　and　eyes　still　half…closed。　　The　rotten　part　of　it　all
had　been　that　you　wanted　to　be　just　FEELING；　and　you　had　to　be
thinking　of　the　ring；　and　your　gloves；　and　whether　the　lowest
button　of　your　white　waistcoat　was　properly　undone。　　Girls　could　do
both；　it　seemedCis　seemed　to　be　seeing　something　wonderful　all
the　time；　and　Sylvia　had　looked　quite　holy。　　He　himself　had　been
too　conscious　of　the　rector's　voice；　and　the　sort　of　professional
manner　with　which　he　did　it　all；　as　if　he　were　making　up　a
prescription；　with　directions　how　to　take　it。　　And　yet　it　was　all
rather　beautiful　in　a　kind　of　fashion；　every　face　turned　one　way；
and　a　tremendous　hushexcept　for　poor　old　Godden's　blowing　of　his
nose　with　his　enormous　red　handkerchief；　and　the　soft　darkness　up
in　the　roof；　and　down　in　the　pews；　and　the　sunlight　brightening　the
South　windows。　　All　the　same；　it　would　have　been　much　jollier　just
taking　hands　by　themselves　somewhere；　and　saying　out　before　God
what　they　really　feltbecause；　after　all；　God　was　everything；
everywhere；　not　only　in　stuffy　churches。　　That　was　how　HE　would
like　to　be　married；　out　of　doors　on　a　starry　night　like　this；　when
everything　felt　wonderful　all　round　you。　　Surely　God　wasn't　half　as
small　as　people　seemed　always　making　Hima　sort　of　superior　man　a
little　bigger　than　themselves！　　Even　the　very　most　beautiful　and
wonderful　and　awful　things　one　could　imagine　or　make；　could　only　be
just　nothing　to　a　God　who　had　a　temple　like　the　night　out　there。
But　then　you　couldn't　be　married　alone；　and　no　girl　would　ever　like
to　be　married　without　rings　and　flowers　and　dresses；　and　words　that
made　it　all　feel　small　and　cosy！　　Cis　might　have；　perhaps；　only　she
wouldn't；　because　of　not　hurting　other　people's　feelings；　but
Sylvianevershe　would　be　afraid。　　Only；　of　course；　she　was
young！　　And　the　thread　of　his　thoughts　brokeand　scattered　like
beads　from　a　string。

Leaning　out；　and　resting　his　chin　on　his　hands；　he　drew　the　night
air　into　his　lungs。　　Honeysuckle；　or　was　it　the　scent　of　lilies
still？　　The　stars　all　out；　and　lots　of　owls　to…nightfour　at
least。　　What　would　night　be　like　without　owls　and　stars？　　But　that
was　ityou　never　could　think　what　things　would　be　like　if　they
weren't　just　what　and　where　they　were。　　You　never　knew　what　was
coming；　either；　and　yet；　when　it　came；　it　seemed　as　if　nothing　else
ever　could　have　come。　　That　was　queer…you　could　do　anything　you
liked　until　you'd　done　it；　but　when　you　HAD　done　it；　then　you　knew；
of　course；　that　you　must　always　have　had　to　。　。　。　　What　was　that
light；　below　and　to　the　left？　　Whose　room？　　Old　Tingle'sno；　the
little　spare　roomSylvia's！　　She　must　be　awake；　then！　　He　leaned
far　out；　and　whispered　in　the　voice　she　had　said　was　still　furry：

〃Sylvia！〃

The　light　flickered；　he　could　just　see　her　head　appear；　with　hair
all　loose；　and　her　face　turning　up　to　him。　　He　could　only　half　see；
half　imagine　it；　mysterious；　blurry；　and　he　whispered：

〃Isn't　this　jolly？〃

The　whisper　travelled　back：

〃Awfully。〃

〃Aren't　you　sleepy？〃

〃No；　are　you？〃

〃Not　a　bit。　　D'you　hear　the　owls？〃

〃Rather。〃

〃Doesn't　it　smell　good？〃

〃Perfect。　　Can　you　see　me？〃

〃Only　just；　not　too　much。　　Can　you？〃

〃I　can't　see　your　nose。　　Shall　I　get　the　candle？〃

〃Nothat'd　spoil　it。　　What　are　you　sitting　on？〃

〃The　window　sill。〃

〃It　doesn't　twist　your　neck；　does　it？〃

〃Nooonly　a　little　bit。〃

〃Are　you　hungry？〃

〃Yes。〃

〃Wait　half　a　shake。　　I'll　let　down　some　chocolate　in　my　big　bath
towel；　it'll　swing　along　to　youreach　out。〃

A　dim　white　arm　reached　out。

〃Catch！　　I　say；　you　won't　get　cold？〃

〃Rather　not。〃

〃It's　too　jolly　to　sleep；　isn't　it？〃

〃Mark！〃

〃Yes。〃

〃Which　star　is　yours？　　Mine　is　the　white　one　over　the　top　branch　of
the　big　sycamore；　from　here。〃

〃Mine　is　that　twinkling　red　one　over　the　summer　house。　　Sylvia！〃

〃Yes。〃

〃Catch！〃

〃Oh！　　I　couldn'twhat　was　it？〃

〃Nothing。〃

〃No；　but　what　WAS　it？〃

〃Only　my　star。　　It's　caught　in　your　hair。〃

〃Oh！〃

〃Listen！〃

Silence；　then；　until　her　awed　whisper：

〃What？〃

And　his　floating　down；　dying　away：

〃CAVE！〃

What　had　stirredsome　window　opened？　　Cautiously　he　spied　along
the　face　of　the　dim　house。　　There　was　no　light　anywhere；　nor　any
shifting　blur　of　white　at　her　window　below。　　All　was　dark；　remote
still　sweet　with　the　scent　of　something　jolly。　　And　then　he　saw
what　that　something　was。　　All　over　the　wall　below　his　window　white
jessamine　was　in　flowerstars；　not　only　in　the　sky。　　Perhaps　the
sky　was　really　a　field　of　white　flowers；　and　God　walked　there；　and
plucked　the　stars。　。　。　。

The　next　morning　there　was　a　letter　on　his　plate　when　he　came　down
to　breakfast。　　He　couldn't　open　it　with　Sylvia　on　one　side　of　him；
and　old　Tingle　on　the　other。　　Then　with　a　sort　of　anger　he　did　open
it。　　He　need　not　have　been　afraid。　　It　was　written　so　that　anyone
might　have　read；　it　told　of　a　climb；　of　bad　weather；　said　they　were
coming　home。　　Was　he　relieved；　disturbed；　pleased　at　their　coming
back；　or　only　uneasily　ashamed？　　She　had　not　got　his　second　letter
yet。　　He　could　feel　old　Tingle　looking　round　at　him　with　those
queer　sharp　twinkling　eyes　of　hers；　and　Sylvia　regarding　him　quite
frankly。　　And　conscious　that　he　was　growing　red；　he　said　to
himself：　'I　won't！'　　And　did　not。　　In　three　days　they　would　be　at
Oxford。　　Would　they　come　on　here　at　once？　　Old　Tingle　was　speaking。
He　heard　Sylvia　answer：　〃No；　I　don't　like　'bopsies。'　　They're　so
hard！〃　　It　was　their　old　name　for　high　cheekbones。　　Sylvia
certainly　had　none；　her　cheeks　went　softly　up　to　her　eyes。

〃Do　you；　Mark？〃

He　said　slowly：

〃On　some　people。〃

〃People　who　have　them　are　strong…willed；　aren't　they？〃

Was　SHEAnnastrong…willed？　　It　came　to　him　that　he　did　not　know
at　all　what　she　was。

When　breakfast　was　over　and　he　had　got　away　to　his　old　greenhouse；
he　had　a　strange；　unhappy　time。　　He　was　a　beast；　he　had　not　been
thinking　of　her　half　enough！　　He　took　the