villa rubein and other stories-第60章

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after　she　had　yielded。　　But　that　pure　gratitude　at　her　fiery；　simple

abnegation　did　not　last；　it　was　followed　by　a　petty　sense　of　triumph；

and　by　uneasiness。　　He　was　still　weighing　the　little　glove　in　his

hand；　when　he　had　another　visitor。　　It　was　Kasteliz。



〃What　can　I　do　for　you？〃　Swithin　asked　ironically。



The　Hungarian　seemed　suffering　from　excitement。　　Why　had　Swithin　left

his　charges　the　night　before？　　What　excuse　had　he　to　make？　　What　sort

of　conduct　did　he　call　this？



Swithin；　very　like　a　bull…dog　at　that　moment；　answered：　What　business

was　it　of　his？



The　business　of　a　gentleman！　　What　right　had　the　Englishman　to　pursue

a　young　girl？



〃Pursue？〃　said　Swithin；　〃you've　been　spying；　then？〃



〃SpyingIKastelizMaurus　Johannan　insult！〃



〃Insult！〃　sneered　Swithin；　d'you　mean　to　tell　me　you　weren't　in　the

street　just　now？〃



Kasteliz　answered　with　a　hiss；　〃If　you　do　not　leave　the　city　I　will

make　you；　with　my　sworddo　you　understand？〃



〃And　if　you　do　not　leave　my　room　I　will　throw　you　out　of　the　window！〃



For　some　minutes　Kasteliz　spoke　in　pure　Hungarian　while　Swithin

waited；　with　a　forced　smile　and　a　fixed　look　in　his　eye。　　He　did　not

understand　Hungarian。



〃If　you　are　still　in　the　city　to…morrow　evening；〃　said　Kasteliz　at

last　in　English；　〃　I　will　spit　you　in　the　street。〃



Swithin　turned　to　the　window　and　watched　his　visitor's　retiring　back

with　a　queer　mixture　of　amusement；　stubbornness；　and　anxiety。

'Well；'　he　thought；　'I　suppose　he'll　run　me　through！'　　The　thought

was　unpleasant；　and　it　kept　recurring；　but　it　only　served　to　harden

his　determination。　　His　head　was　busy　with　plans　for　seeing　Rozsi；

his　blood　on　fire　with　the　kisses　she　had　given　him。









IX



Swithin　was　long　in　deciding　to　go　forth　next　day。　　He　had　made　up

his　mind　not　to　go　to　Rozsi　till　five　o'clock。　　'Mustn't　make　myself

too　cheap；'　he　thought。　　It　was　a　little　past　that　hour　when　he　at

last　sallied　out；　and　with　a　beating　heart　walked　towards　Boleskey's。

He　looked　up　at　the　window；　more　than　half　expecting　to　see　Rozsi

there；　but　she　was　not；　and　he　noticed　with　faint　surprise　that　the

window　was　not　open；　the　plants；　too；　outside；　looked　singularly

arid。　　He　knocked。　　No　one　came。　　He　beat　a　fierce　tatto。　　At　last

the　door　was　opened　by　a　man　with　a　reddish　beard；　and　one　of　those

sardonic　faces　only　to　be　seen　on　shoemakers　of　Teutonic　origin。



〃What　do　you　want；　making　all　this　noise？〃　he　asked　in　German。



Swithin　pointed　up　the　stairs。　　The　man　grinned；　and　shook　his　head。



〃I　want　to　go　up；〃　said　Swithin。



The　cobbler　shrugged　his　shoulders；　and　Swithin　rushed　upstairs。　　The

rooms　were　empty。　　The　furniture　remained；　but　all　signs　of　life　were

gone。　　One　of　his　own　bouquets；　faded；　stood　in　a　glass；　the　ashes　of

a　fire　were　barely　cold；　little　scraps　of　paper　strewed　the　hearth；

already　the　room　smelt　musty。　　He　went　into　the　bedrooms；　and　with　a

feeling　of　stupefaction　stood　staring　at　the　girls'　beds；　side　by

side　against　the　wall。　　A　bit　of　ribbon　caught　his　eye；　he　picked　it

up　and　put　it　in　his　pocketit　was　a　piece　of　evidence　that　she　had

once　existed。　　By　the　mirror　some　pins　were　dropped　about；　a　little

powder　had　been　spilled。　　He　looked　at　his　own　disquiet　face　and

thought；　'I've　been　cheated！'



The　shoemaker's　voice　aroused　him。　　〃Tausend　Teufel！　　Eilen　Sie；　nur！

Zeit　is　Geld！　　Kann　nich'　Langer　warten！〃　　Slowly　he　descended。



〃Where　have　they　gone？〃　asked　Swithin　painfully。　　〃A　pound　for　every

English　word　you　speak。　　A　pound！〃　and　he　made　an　O　with　his　fingers。



The　corners　of　the　shoemaker's　lips　curled。　　〃Geld！　Mf！　　Eilen　Sie；

nur！〃



But　in　Swithin　a　sullen　anger　had　begun　to　burn。　　〃If　you　don't　tell

me；〃　he　said；　〃it'll　be　the　worse　for　you。〃



〃Sind　ein　komischer　Kerl！〃　remarked　the　shoemaker。　　〃Hier　ist　meine

Frau！〃



A　battered…looking　woman　came　hurrying　down　the　passage；　calling　out

in　German；　〃Don't　let　him　go！〃



With　a　snarling　sound　the　shoemaker　turned　his　back；　and　shambled

off。



The　woman　furtively　thrust　a　letter　into　Swithin's　hand；　and

furtively　waited。



The　letter　was　from　Rozsi。



〃Forgive　me〃it　ran〃that　I　leave　you　and　do　not　say　goodbye。　　To…

day　our　father　had　the　call　from　our　dear　Father…town　so　long

awaited。　　In　two　hours　we　are　ready。　　I　pray　to　the　Virgin　to　keep

you　ever　safe；　and　that　you　do　not　quite　forget　me。Your

unforgetting　good　friend；　　ROZSI



When　Swithin　read　it　his　first　sensation　was　that　of　a　man　sinking　in

a　bog；　then　his　obstinacy　stiffened。　　'I　won't　be　done；'　he　thought。

Taking　out　a　sovereign　he　tried　to　make　the　woman　comprehend　that　she

could　earn　it；　by　telling　him　where　they　had　gone。　　He　got　her

finally　to　write　the　words　out　in　his　pocket…book；　gave　her　the

sovereign；　and　hurried　to　the　Goldene　Alp；　where　there　was　a　waiter

who　spoke　English。　　The　translation　given　him　was　this：



〃At　three　o'clock　they　start　in　a　carriage　on　the　road　to　Linzthey

have　bad　horsesthe　Herr　also　rides　a　white　horse。〃



Swithin　at　once　hailed　a　carriage　and　started　at　full　gallop　on　the

road　to　Linz。　　Outside　the　Mirabell　Garden　he　caught　sight　of

Kasteliz　and　grinned　at　him。　　'I've　sold　him　anyway；'　he　thought；

'for　all　their　talk；　they're　no　good；　these　foreigners！'



His　spirits　rose；　but　soon　fell　again。　　What　chance　had　he　of

catching　them？　　They　had　three　hours'　start！　　Still；　the　roads　were

heavy　from　the　rain　of　the　last　two　nightsthey　had　luggage　and　bad

horses；　his　own　were　good；　his　driver　bribedhe　might　overtake　them

by　ten　o'clock！　But　did　he　want　to？　　What　a　fool　he　had　been　not　to

bring　his　luggage；　he　would　then　have　had　a　respectable　position。

What　a　brute　he　would　look　without　a　change　of　shirt；　or　anything　to

shave　with！　　He　saw　himself　with　horror；　all　bristly；　and　in　soiled

linen。　　People　would　think　him　mad。　　'I've　given　myself　away；'

flashed　across　him；　'what　the　devil　can　I　say　to　them？'　and　he　stared

sullenly　at　the　driver's　back。　　He　read　Rozsi's　letter　again；　it　had

a　scent　of　her。　　And　in　the　growing　darkness；　jolted　by　the　swinging

of　the　carriage；　he　suffered　tortures　from　his　prudence；　tortures

from　his　passion。



It　grew　colder　and　dark。　　He　turned　the　collar　of　his　coat　up　to　his

ears。　　He　had　visions　of　Piccadilly。　　This　wild…goose　chase　appeared

suddenly　a　dangerous；　unfathomable　business。　　Lights；　fellowship；

security！　　'Never　again！'　he　brooded；　'why　won't　they　let　me　alone？'

But　it　was　not　clear　whether　by　'they'　he　meant　the　conventions；　the

Boleskeys；　his　passions；　or　those　haunting　memories　of　Rozsi。　　If　he

had　only　had　a　bag　with　him！　　What　was　he　going　to　say？　　What　was　he

going　to　get　by　this？　　He　received　no　answer　to　these　questions。　　The

darkness　itself　was　less　obscure　than　his　sensations。　　From　time　to

time　he　took　out　his　watch。　　At　each　village　the　driver　made

inquiries。　　It　was　past　ten　when　he　stopped　the　carriage　with　a　jerk。

The　stars　were　bright　as　steel；　and　by　the　side　of　the　road　a　reedy

lake　showed　in　the　moonlight。　　Swithin　shivered。　　A　man　on　a　horse

had　halted　in　the　centre　of　the　road。　　〃Drive　on！〃　called　Swithin；

with　a　stolid　face。　　It　turned　out　to　be　Boleskey；　who；　on　a　gaunt

white　horse；　looked　like　some　winged　creature。　　He　stood　where　he

could　bar　the　progress　of　the　carriage；　holding　out　a　pistol。



'Theatrical　beggar！'　thought　Swithin；　with　a　nervous　smile。　　He　made

no　sign　of　recognition。　　Slowly　Boleskey　brought　his　lean　horse　up　to

the　carriage。　　When　he　saw　who　was　within　he　showed　astonishment　and

joy。



〃You？〃　he　cried；　slapping　his　hand　on　his　attenuated　thigh；　and

leaning　over　till　his　beard　touched　Swithin。　　〃You　have　come？　　You

followed　us？〃



〃It　seems　so；〃　Swithin　grunted　out。



〃You　throw　in　your　lot　with　us。　　Is　it　possible？　　Youyou　are　a

knight…errant　then！〃



〃Good　God！〃　said　Swithin。　　Boleskey；　flogging　his　dejected　steed；

canter