villa rubein and other stories-第47章

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〃Mon　cher　Georges；　how　he　is　good！〃　then　sighed；　and　added　darkly：

〃The　poor　man！〃



We　sat　down　at　a　little　table。　　Close　by；　the　branches　of　a　plane…

tree　rustled　faintly；　their　leaves　hung　lifeless；　speckled　like　the

breasts　of　birds；　or　black　against　the　sky；　then；　caught　by　the

breeze；　fluttered　suddenly。



The　old　fellow　sat；　with　head　thrown　back；　a　smile　on　his　face；

coming　now　and　then　out　of　his　enchanted　dreams　to　drink　coffee；

answer　our　questions；　or　hum　the　tune　that　the　band　was　playing。　　The

ash　of　his　cigar　grew　very　long。　　One　of　those　bizarre　figures　in

Oriental　garb；　who；　night　after　night；　offer　their　doubtful　wares　at

a　great　price；　appeared　in　the　white　glare　of　a　lamp；　looked　with　a

furtive　smile　at　his　face；　and　glided　back；　discomfited　by　its

unconsciousness。　　It　was　a　night　for　dreams！　　A　faint；　half…eastern

scent　in　the　air；　of　black　tobacco　and　spice；　few　people　as　yet　at

the　little　tables；　the　waiters　leisurely；　the　band　soft！　　What　was　he

dreaming　of；　that　old　fellow；　whose　cigar…ash　grew　so　long？　　Of

youth；　of　his　battles；　of　those　things　that　must　be　done　by　those　who

try　to　be　gentlemen；　perhaps　only　of　his　dinner；　anyway　of　something

gilded　in　vague　fashion　as　the　light　was　gilding　the　branches　of　the

plane…tree。



Jules　pulled　my　sleeve：　〃He　sleeps。〃　　He　had　smilingly　dropped　off；

the　cigar…ashthat　feathery　tower　of　his　dreamshad　broken　and

fallen　on　his　sleeve。　　He　awoke；　and　fell　to　dusting　it。



The　little　tables　round　us　began　to　fill。　　One　of　the　bandsmen　played

a　czardas　on　the　czymbal。　　Two　young　Frenchmen；　talking　loudly；　sat

down　at　the　adjoining　table。　　They　were　discussing　the　lady　who　had

been　at　the　concert　that　afternoon。



〃It's　a　bet；〃　said　one　of　them；　〃but　there's　the　present　man。　　I　take

three　weeks；　that's　enough　elle　est　declassee；　ce　n'est　que　le

premier　pas'



My　old　friend's　cigar　fell　on　the　table。　　〃Monsieur；〃　he　stammered；

〃you　speak　of　a　lady　so；　in　a　public　place？〃



The　young　man　stared　at　him。　　〃Who　is　this　person？〃　he　said　to　his

companion。



My　guest　took　up　Jules's　glove　that　lay　on　the　table；　before　either

of　us　could　raise　a　finger；　he　had　swung　it　in　the　speaker's　face。

〃Enough！〃　he　said；　and；　dropping　the　glove；　walked　away。



We　all　jumped　to　our　feet。　　I　left　Jules　and　hurried　after　him。　　His

face　was　grim；　his　eyes　those　of　a　creature　who　has　been　struck　on　a

raw　place。　　He　made　a　movement　of　his　fingers　which　said　plainly。

〃Leave　me；　if　you　please！〃



I　went　back　to　the　cafe。　　The　two　young　men　had　disappeared；　so　had

Jules；　but　everything　else　was　going　on　just　as　before；　the　bandsman

still　twanging　out　his　czardas；　the　waiters　serving　drinks；　the

orientals　trying　to　sell　their　carpets。　　I　paid　the　bill；　sought　out

the　manager；　and　apologised。　　He　shrugged　his　shoulders；　smiled　and

said：　〃An　eccentric；　your　friend；　nicht　wahr？〃　　Could　he　tell　me

where　M。　Le　Ferrier　was？　　He　could　not。　　I　left　to　look　for　Jules；

could　not　find　him；　and　returned　to　my　hotel　disgusted。　　I　was　sorry

for　my　old　guest；　but　vexed　with　him　too；　what　business　had　he　to

carry　his　Quixotism　to　such　an　unpleasant　length？　　I　tried　to　read。

Eleven　o'clock　struck；　the　casino　disgorged　a　stream　of　people；　the

Place　seemed　fuller　of　life　than　ever；　then　slowly　it　grew　empty　and

quite　dark。　　The　whim　seized　me　to　go　out。　　It　was　a　still　night；

very　warm；　very　black。　　On　one　of　the　seats　a　man　and　woman　sat

embraced；　on　another　a　girl　was　sobbing；　on　a　thirdstrange　sighta

priest　dozed。　　I　became　aware　of　some　one　at　my　side；　it　was　my　old

guest。



〃If　you　are　not　too　tired；〃　he　said；　〃can　you　give　me　ten　minutes？〃



〃Certainly；　will　you　come　in？〃



〃No；　no；　let　us　go　down　to　the　Terrace。　　I　shan't　keep　you　long。〃



He　did　not　speak　again　till　we　reached　a　seat　above　the　pigeon…

shooting　grounds；　there；　in　a　darkness　denser　for　the　string　of

lights　still　burning　in　the　town；　we　sat　down。



〃I　owe　you　an　apology；〃　he　said；　〃first　in　the　afternoon；　then　again

this　eveningyour　guestyour　friend's　glove！　　I　have　behaved　as　no

gentleman　should。〃　　He　was　leaning　forward　with　his　hands　on　the

handle　of　a　stick。　　His　voice　sounded　broken　and　disturbed。



〃Oh！〃　I　muttered。　　〃It's　nothing！〃'



〃You　are　very　good；〃　he　sighed；　〃but　I　feel　that　I　must　explain。　　I

consider　I　owe　this　to　you；　but　I　must　tell　you　I　should　not　have　the

courage　if　it　were　not　for　another　reason。　　You　see　I　have　no

friend。〃　　He　looked　at　me　with　an　uncertain　smile。　　I　bowed；　and　a

minute　or　two　later　he　began。。。。









III



〃You　will　excuse　me　if　I　go　back　rather　far。　　It　was　in　'74；　when　I

had　been　ill　with　Cuban　fever。　　To　keep　me　alive　they　had　put　me　on

board　a　ship　at　Santiago；　and　at　the　end　of　the　voyage　I　found　myself

in　London。　　I　had　very　little　money；　I　knew　nobody。　　I　tell　you；　sir；

there　are　times　when　it's　hard　for　a　fighting　man　to　get　anything　to

do。　　People　would　say　to　me：　'Afraid　we've　nothing　for　a　man　like　you

in　our　business。'　　I　tried　people　of　all　sorts；　but　it　was　trueI

had　been　fighting　here　and　there　since　'60；　I　wasn't　fit　for

anything〃　　He　shook　his　head。　　〃In　the　South；　before　the　war；　they

had　a　saying；　I　remember；　about　a　dog　and　a　soldier　having　the　same

value。　　But　all　this　has　nothing　to　do　with　what　I　have　to　tell　you。〃

He　sighed　again　and　went　on；　moistening　his　lips：　〃I　was　walking

along　the　Strand　one　day；　very　disheartened；　when　I　heard　my　name

called。　　It's　a　queer　thing；　that；　in　a　strange　street。　　By　the　way；〃

he　put　in　with　dry　ceremony；　〃you　don't　know　my　name；　I　think：　it　is

BruneRoger　Brune。　　At　first　I　did　not　recognise　the　person　who

called　me。　　He　had　just　got　off　an　omnibusa　square…shouldered　man

with　heavy　moustaches；　and　round　spectacles。　　But　when　he　shook　my

hand　I　knew　him　at　once。　　He　was　a　man　called　Dalton；　who　was　taken

prisoner　at　Gettysburg；　one　of　you　Englishmen　who　came　to　fight　with

usa　major　in　the　regiment　where　I　was　captain。　　We　were　comrades

during　two　campaigns。　　If　I　had　been　his　brother　he　couldn't　have

seemed　more　pleased　to　see　me。　　He　took　me　into　a　bar　for　the　sake　of

old　times。　　The　drink　went　to　my　head；　and　by　the　time　we　reached

Trafalgar　Square　I　was　quite　unable　to　walk。　　He　made　me　sit　down　on

a　bench。　I　was　in　factdrunk。　　It's　disgraceful　to　be　drunk；　but

there　was　some　excuse。　　Now　I　tell　you；　sir〃　（all　through　his　story

he　was　always　making　use　of　that　expression；　it　seemed　to　infuse

fresh　spirit　into　him；　to　help　his　memory　in　obscure　places；　to　give

him　the　mastery　of　his　emotions；　it　was　like　the　piece　of　paper　a

nervous　man　holds　in　his　hand　to　help　him　through　a　speech）；　〃there

never　was　a　man　with　a　finer　soul　than　my　friend　Dalton。　　He　was　not

clever；　though　he　had　read　much；　and　sometimes　perhaps　he　was　too

fond　of　talking。　　But　he　was　a　gentleman；　he　listened　to　me　as　if　I

had　been　a　child；　he　was　not　ashamed　of　meand　it　takes　a　gentleman

not　to　be　ashamed　of　a　drunken　man　in　the　streets　of　London；　God

knows　what　things　I　said　to　him　while　we　were　sitting　there！　　He　took

me　to　his　home　and　put　me　to　bed　himself；　for　I　was　down　again　with

fever。〃　　He　stopped；　turned　slightly　from　me；　and　put　his　hand　up　to

his　brow。　　〃　Well；　then　it　was；　sir；　that　I　first　saw　her。　　I　am　not

a　poet　and　I　cannot　tell　you　what　she　seemed　to　me。　　I　was　delirious；

but　I　always　knew　when　she　was　there。　　I　had　dreams　of　sunshine　and

cornfields；　of　dancing　waves　at　sea；　young　treesnever　the　same

dreams；　never　anything　for　long　together；　and　when　I　had　my　senses　I

was　afraid　to　say　so　for　fear　she　would　go　away。　　She'd　be　in　the

corner　of　the　room；　with　her　hair　hanging　about　her　neck；　a　bright

gold　colour；　she　never　worked　and　never　read；　but　sat　and　talked　to

herself　in　a　whisper；　or　looked　at　me　for　a　long　time　together　out　of

her　blue　eyes；　a　little　frown　between　them；　and　her　upper　lip　closed

firm　on　her　lower　lip；　where　she　had　an　uneven　to