the cost-第5章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


hands　were　well…shaped　they　had　the　recent　scars　of　hard　manual　labor。　　Thus；　when　Olivia　spoke　enthusiastically　of　him　after　supper；　she　made　no　reply。　　She　would　have　been　ashamed　to　acknowledge　the　reasons　for　her　lack　of　admiration；　even　had　she　been　conscious　of　them。

But　the　next　morning　at　breakfast　she　revised　her　opinion　somewhat。　　He　talked；　and　he　had　a　remarkable　voiceclear；　musical；　with　a　quality　which　made　it　seem　to　penetrate　through　all　the　nerves　instead　of　through　the　auditory　nerve　only。　　Further；　he　talked　straight　to　Pauline；　without　embarrassment　and　with　a　quaint；　satiric　humor。　　She　was　forgetting　for　the　moment　his　almost　uncouth　hair　and　dress　when；　in　making　a　sweeping　gesture；　he　upset　a　glass　of　water　and　sent　a　plate　of　hot　bread　flying　from　the　waitress'　hand。

〃He'd　do　well　in　the　open　air；〃　thought　she；　〃but　he's　out　of　place　in　a　house。〃

Still；　she　found　him　interesting　and　original。　　And　he　persistently　sought　herhis　persistence　was　little　short　of　heroism　in　view　of　the　never…wholly…concealed　sufferings　which　the　contrast　between　her　grace　and　style　and　his　lack　of　both　caused　him。

〃He　looks　like　a　king　who　had　been　kidnapped　as　a　child　and　brought　up　in　the　wilds；〃　said　Olivia。　　〃I　wonder　who　he　is。〃

〃I'll　ask　him；〃　replied　Pauline。　　And　Olivia　was　slyly　amused　by　her　cousin's　unconscious　pride　in　her　power　with　this　large；　untamed　person。



III。

AND　SCARBOROUGH。


His　name　was　Hampden　Scarborough　and　he　came　from　a　farm　about　twenty　miles　east　of　Saint　X。　　He　was　descended　from　men　who　had　learned　to　hate　kings　in　Holland　in　the　sixteenth　century；　had　learned　to　despise　them　in　England　in　the　seventeenth　century；　had　learned　to　laugh　at　them　in　America　in　the　eighteenth　century；　had　learned　to　exalt　themselves　into　kingsthe　kings　of　the　new　democracyin　the　free　West　in　the　nineteenth　century。

When　any　one　asked　his　father；　Bladen　Scarborough；　who　the　family　ancestors　were；　Bladen　usually　did　not　answer　at　all。　　It　was　his　habit　thus　to　treat　a　question　he　did　not　fancy；　and；　if　the　question　was　repeated；　to　supplement　silence　with　a　piercing　look　from　under　his　aggressive　eyebrows。　　But　sometimes　he　would　answer　it。　　Once；　for　example；　he　looked　coldly　at　the　man　who；　with　a　covert　sneer；　had　asked　it；　said；　〃You're　impudent；　sir。　　You　insinuate　I'm　not　enough　by　myself　to　command　your　consideration；〃　and　struck　him　a　staggering　blow　across　the　mouth。　　Againhe　was　in　a　playful　mood　that　day　and　the　questioner　was　a　womanhe　replied；　〃I'm　descended　from　murderers；　ma'ammurderers。〃

And　in　a　sense　it　was　the　truth。

In　1568　the　Scarboroughs　were　seated　obscurely　in　an　east　county　of　England。　　They　were　tenant　farmers　on　the　estates　of　the　Earl　of　Ashford　and　had　been　strongly　infected　with　〃leveling〃　ideas　by　the　refugees　then　fleeing　to　England　to　escape　the　fury　of　continental　prince　and　priest。　　John　Scarborough　was　trudging　along　the　highway　with　his　sister　Kate。　　On　horseback　came　Aubrey　Walton；　youngest　son　of　the　Earl　of　Ashford。　　He　admired　the　rosy；　pretty　face　of　Kate　Scarborough。　　He　dismounted　and；　without　so　much　as　a　glance　at　her　brother；　put　his　arm　round　her。　　John　snatched　her　free。　　Young　Walton；　all　amazement　and　wrath　at　the　hind　who　did　not　appreciate　the　favor　he　was　condescending　to　bestow　upon　a　humble　maiden；　ripped　out　an　insult　and　drew　his　sword。　　John　wrenched　it　from　him　and　ran　it　through　his　body。

That　night；　with　four　gold　pieces　in　his　pocket；　John　Scarborough　left　England　in　a　smuggler　and　was　presently　fighting　Philip　of　Spain　in　the　army　of　the　Dutch　people。

In　1653　Zachariah　Scarborough；　great　grandson　of　the　preceding；　was　a　soldier　in　Cromwell's　army。　　On　the　night　of　April　twentieth　he　was　in　an　ale…house　off　Fleet　Street　with　three　brother　officers。　　That　day　Cromwell　had　driven　out　Parliament　and　had　dissolved　the　Council　of　State。　　Three　of　the　officers　were　of　Cromwell's　party；　the　fourth；　Captain　Zachariah　Scarborough；　was　a　〃leveler〃a　hater　of　kings；　a　Dutch…bred　pioneer　of　Dutch…bred　democracy。　　The　discussion　began　hotand　they　poured　ale　on　it。

〃He's　a　tyrant！〃　shouted　Zachariah　Scarborough；　bringing　his　huge　fist　down　on　the　table　and　upsetting　a　mug。　　〃He　has　set　up　for　king。　　Down　with　all　kings；　say　I！　　His　head　must　come　off！〃

At　this　knives　were　drawn；　and　when　Zachariah　Scarborough　staggered　into　the　darkness　of　filthy　Fleet　Street　with　a　cut　down　his　cheek　from　temple　to　jaw…bone；　his　knife　was　dripping　the　life　of　a　cousin　of　Ireton's。

He　fled　to　the　Virginia　plantations　and　drifted　thence　to　North　Carolina。

His　great…grandson；　Gaston　Scarborough；　was　one　of　Marion's　men　in　his　boyhooda　fierce　spirit　made　arrogant　by　isolated　freedom；　where　every　man　of　character　owned　his　land　and　could　conceive　of　no　superior　between　him　and　Almighty　God。　　One　autumn　day　in　1794　Gaston　was　out　shooting　with　his　youngest　brother；　John；　their　father's　favorite。　　Gaston's　gun　was　caught　by　a　creeper；　was　torn　from　him；　and　his　hand；　reaching　for　it；　exploded　the　charge　into　his　brother's　neck。　　His　brother　fell　backward　into　the　swamp　and　disappeared。

Gaston　plunged　into　the　wildernessto　Tennessee；　to　Kentucky；　to　Indiana。


〃And　it's　my　turn；〃　said　Hampden　Scarborough　as　he　ended　a　brief　recital　of　the　ancestral　murders　which　Pauline　had　drawn　from　himthey　were　out　for　a　walk　together。

〃Your　turn？〃　she　inquired。

〃YesI'm　the　great…grandsonthe　only　one。　　It's　always　a　great…grandson。〃

〃You　DO　look　dangerous；〃　said　Pauline；　and　the　smile　and　the　glance　she　sent　with　the　words　might　have　been　misunderstood　by　a　young　man　entertaining　the　ideas　which　were　then　filling　that　young　man's　brain。

Again；　he　told　her　how　he　had　been　sent　to　collegeshe　was　always　leading　him　to　talk　of　himself；　and　her　imagination　more　than　supplied　that　which　his　unaffected　modesty；　sometimes　deliberately；　more　often　unconsciously；　kept　out　of　his　stories。

Ever　since　he　could　remember；　his　strongest　passion　had　been　for　books；　for　reading。　　Before　he　was　born　the　wilderness　was　subdued　and　the　cruel　toil　of　his　parents'　early　life　was　mitigated　by　the　growth　of　towns；　the　spread　of　civilization。　　There　was　a　chance　for　some　leisure；　for　the　higher　gratification　of　the　intense　American　passion　for　education。　　A　small　library　had　sprung　up　in　one　corner　of　the　general　room　of　the　old　farm…housefrom　the　seeds　of　a　Bible；　an　almanac；　Milton's　Paradise　Lost；　Baxter's　Saint's　Rest　and　a　Government　report　on　cattle。　　But　the　art　collection　had　stood　still　for　yearsa　facsimile　of　the　Declaration　of　Independence；　another　of　the　Emancipation　Proclamation；　pictures　of　Washington；　Lincoln　and　Napoleon；　the　last　held　in　that　household　second　only　to　Washington　in　all　history　as　a　〃leveler。〃

The　only　daughter；　Arabella；　had　been　sent　to　boarding…school　in　Cincinnati。　　She　married　a　rich　man；　lived　in　the　city　and；　under　the　inspiration　of　English　novels　and　the　tutelage　of　a　woman　friend　who　visited　in　New　York　and　often　went　abroad；　was　developing　ideas　of　family　and　class　and　rank。　　She　talked　feelingly　of　the　〃lower　classes〃　and　of　the　duty　of　the　〃upper　class〃　toward　them。　　Her　〃goings…on〃　created　an　acid　prejudice　against　higher　education　in　her　father's　mind。　　As　she　was　unfolding　to　him　a　plan　for　sending　Hampden　to　Harvard　he　interrupted　with；　〃No　MORE　idiots　in　my　family　at　my　expense；〃　and　started　out　to　feed　the　pigs。　　The　best　terms　Hampden's　mother　could　make　were　that　he　should　not　be　disinherited　and　cast　off　if　he　went　to　Battle　Field　and　paid　his　own　way。

He　did　not　tell　Pauline　all　of　this；　nor　did　he　repeat　to　her　the　conversation　between　himself　and　his　father　a　few　days　before　he　left　home。

〃Is　'Bella　going　to　pay　your　way　through？〃　asked　his　father；　looking　at　him　severelybut　he　looked　severely　at　every　one　except　Hampden's　gentle…voiced　mother。

〃No；　sir。〃　　The　son's　voice　was　clear。

〃Is　your　mother？〃

〃No；　sir。〃

〃Have　you　got　money　put　by？〃

〃Four　hundred　dollars。〃

〃Is　that　enough？〃

〃It'll　give　me　time　for　a　long　look　around。〃

The　old　man　drew　a　big；　rusty　pocketbook　from　the　inside　pocket　of　the　old…fashioned；　flowered…velvet　waistcoat　he　wore　even　when　he　fed　the　pigs。　　He　co