the dark flower-第37章
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sing just there。 How still and warm was the air； yet seemed to
vibrate against his cheeks as though about to break into flame。
That fancy came to him vividly while he stood waitinga vision of
heat simmering in little pale red flames。 On the thick reeds some
large； slow； dusky flies were still feeding； and now and then a
moorhen a few yards away splashed a little； or uttered a sharp；
shrill note。 When she cameif she did come！they would not stay
here； in this dark earthy backwater； he would take her over to the
other side； away to the woods！ But the minutes passed； and his
heart sank。 Then it leaped up。 Someone was comingin white； with
bare head； and something blue or black flung across her arm。 It
was she！ No one else walked like that！ She came very quickly。
And he noticed that her hair looked like little wings on either
side of her brow； as if her face were a white bird with dark wings；
flying to love！ Now she was close； so close that he could see her
lips parted； and her eyes love…lightedlike nothing in the world
but darkness wild with dew and starlight。 He reached up and lifted
her down into the boat； and the scent of some flower pressed
against his face seemed to pierce into him and reach his very
heart； awakening the memory of something past； forgotten。 Then；
seizing the branches； snapping them in his haste； he dragged the
skiff along through the sluggish water； the gnats dancing in his
face。 She seemed to know where he was taking her； and neither of
them spoke a single word； while he pulled out into the open； and
over to the far bank。
There was but one field between them and the wooda field of young
wheat； with a hedge of thorn and alder。 And close to that hedge
they set out； their hands clasped。 They had nothing to say yet
like children saving up。 She had put on her cloak to hide her
dress； and its silk swished against the silvery blades of the
wheat。 What had moved her to put on this blue cloak？ Blue of the
sky； and flowers； of birds' wings； and the black…burning blue of
the night！ The hue of all holy things！ And how still it was in
the late gleam of the sun！ Not one little sound of beast or bird
or tree； not one bee humming！ And not much colouronly the starry
white hemlocks and globe…campion flowers； and the low…flying
glamour of the last warm light on the wheat。
XX
。 。 。 Now over wood and river the evening drew in fast。 And first
the swallows； that had looked as if they would never stay their
hunting； ceased； and the light； that had seemed fastened above the
world； for all its last brightenings； slowly fell wingless and
dusky。
The moon would not rise till ten！ And all things waited。 The
creatures of night were slow to come forth after that long bright
summer's day； watching for the shades of the trees to sink deeper
and deeper into the now chalk…white water； watching for the chalk…
white face of the sky to be masked with velvet。 The very black…
plumed trees themselves seemed to wait in suspense for the grape…
bloom of night。 All things stared； wan in that hour of passing
dayall things had eyes wistful and unblessed。 In those moments
glamour was so dead that it was as if meaning had abandoned the
earth。 But not for long。 Winged with darkness； it stole back； not
the soul of meaning that had gone； but a witch…like and brooding
spirit harbouring in the black trees； in the high dark spears of
the rushes； and on the grim…snouted snags that lurked along the
river bank。 Then the owls came out； and night…flying things。 And
in the wood there began a cruel bird…tragedysome dark pursuit in
the twilight above the bracken； the piercing shrieks of a creature
into whom talons have again and again gone home； and mingled with
them； hoarse raging cries of triumph。 Many minutes they lasted；
those noises of the night； sound…emblems of all the cruelty in the
heart of Nature； till at last death appeased that savagery。 And
any soul abroad； that pitied fugitives； might once more listen； and
not weep。 。 。 。
Then a nightingale began to give forth its long liquid gurgling；
and a corn…crake churred in the young wheat。 Again the night
brooded； in the silent tops of the trees； in the more silent depths
of the water。 It sent out at long intervals a sigh or murmur； a
tiny scuttling splash； an owl's hunting cry。 And its breath was
still hot and charged with heavy odour； for no dew was falling。 。 。 。
XXI
It was past ten when they came out from the wood。 She had wanted
to wait for the moon to rise； not a gold coin of a moon as last
night； but ivory pale； and with a gleaming radiance level over the
fern； and covering the lower boughs； as it were； with a drift of
white blossom。
Through the wicket gate they passed once more beside the moon…
coloured wheat； which seemed of a different world from that world
in which they had walked but an hour and a half ago。
And in Lennan's heart was a feeling such as a man's heart can only
know once in all his lifesuch humble gratitude； and praise； and
adoration of her who had given him her all。 There should be
nothing for her now but joylike the joy of this last hour。 She
should never know less happiness！ And kneeling down before her at
the water's edge he kissed her dress； and hands； and feet； which
to…morrow would be his forever。
Then they got into the boat。
The smile of the moonlight glided over each ripple； and reed； and
closing water…lily； over her face； where the hood had fallen back
from her loosened hair； over one hand trailing the water； and the
other touching the flower at her breast； and； just above her
breath； she said：
〃Row； my dear love； it's late！〃
Dipping his sculls； he shot the skiff into the darkness of the
backwater。 。 。 。
What happened then he never knew； never clearlyin all those after
years。 A vision of her white form risen to its feet； bending
forward like a creature caught； that cannot tell which way to
spring； a crashing shock； his head striking something hard！
Nothingness！ And thenan awful； awful struggle with roots and
weeds and slime； a desperate agony of groping in that pitchy
blackness； among tree…stumps； in dead water that seemed to have no
bottomhe and that other； who had leaped at them in the dark with
his boat； like a murdering beast； a nightmare search more horrible
than words could tell； till in a patch of moonlight on the bank
they laid her； who for all their efforts never stirred。 。 。 。
There she lay all white； and they two crouched at her head and
feetlike dark creatures of the woods and waters over that which
with their hunting they had slain。
How long they stayed there； not once looking at each other； not
once speaking； not once ceasing to touch with their hands that dead
thinghe never knew。 How long in the summer night； with its
moonlight and its shadows quivering round them； and the night wind
talking in the reeds！
And then the most enduring of all sentient things had moved in him
again； so that he once more felt。 。 。 。 Never again to see those
eyes that had loved him with their light！ Never again to kiss her
lips！ Frozenlike moonlight to the earth； with the flower still
clinging at her breast。 Thrown out on the bank like a plucked
water…lily！ Dead？ No； no！ Not dead！ Alive in the nightalive
to himsomewhere！ Not on this dim bank； in this hideous
backwater； with that dark dumb creature who had destroyed her！ Out
there on the riverin the wood of their happinesssomewhere
alive！ 。 。 。 And； staggering up past Cramier； who never moved； he
got into his boat； and like one demented pulled out into the
stream。
But once there in the tide； he fell huddled forward； motionless
above his oars。 。 。 。
And the moonlight flooded his dark skiff drifting down。 And the
moonlight effaced the ripples on the water that had stolen away her
spirit。 Her spirit mingled now with the white beauty and the
shadows； for ever part of the stillness and the passion of a summer
night； hovering； floating； listening to the rustle of the reeds；
and the whispering of the woods； one with the endless dreamthat
spirit passing out； as all might wish to pass； in the hour of
happiness。
PART III
