novel notes-第29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！


　out；　very　pleased　with　himself。

〃After　dinner　he　lit　a　cigar　and　sat　smoking　a　while　in　silence。

〃'Are　you　feeling　tired？'　he　said　to　her　at　length；　with　a　smile。

〃She　laughed；　and；　calling　him　a　lazy　old　thing；　asked　what　it　was　he　wanted。

〃'Only　my　novel　that　I　was　reading。　　I　left　it　in　my　den。　　Do　you　mind？　　You　will　find　it　open　on　the　couch。'

〃She　sprang　up　and　ran　lightly　to　the　door。

〃As　she　paused　there　for　a　moment　to　look　back　at　him　and　ask　the　name　of　the　book；　he　thought　how　pretty　and　how　sweet　she　was；　and　for　the　first　time　a　faint　glimmer　of　the　true　nature　of　the　thing　he　was　doing　forced　itself　into　his　brain。

〃'Never　mind；'　he　said；　half　rising；　'I'll'；　then；　enamoured　of　the　brilliancy　of　his　plan；　checked　himself；　and　she　was　gone。

〃He　heard　her　footsteps　passing　along　the　matted　passage；　and　smiled　to　himself。　　He　thought　the　affair　was　going　to　be　rather　amusing。　One　finds　it　difficult　to　pity　him　even　now　when　one　thinks　of　it。

〃The　smoking…room　door　opened　and　closed；　and　he　still　sat　gazing　dreamily　at　the　ash　of　his　cigar；　and　smiling。

〃One　moment；　perhaps　two　passed；　but　the　time　seemed　much　longer。　The　man　blew　the　gray　cloud　from　before　his　eyes　and　waited。　　Then　he　heard　what　he　had　been　expecting　to　heara　piercing　shriek。　Then　another；　which；　expecting　to　hear　the　clanging　of　the　distant　door　and　the　scurrying　back　of　her　footsteps　along　the　passage；　puzzled　him；　so　that　the　smile　died　away　from　his　lips。

〃Then　another；　and　another；　and　another；　shriek　after　shriek。

〃The　native　servant；　gliding　noiselessly　about　the　room；　laid　down　the　thing　that　was　in　his　hand　and　moved　instinctively　towards　the　door。　　The　man　started　up　and　held　him　back。

〃'Keep　where　you　are；'　he　said　hoarsely。　　'It　is　nothing。　　Your　mistress　is　frightened；　that　is　all。　　She　must　learn　to　get　over　this　folly。'　　Then　he　listened　again；　and　the　shrieks　ended　with　what　sounded　curiously　like　a　smothered　laugh；　and　there　came　a　sudden　silence。

〃And　out　of　that　bottomless　silence；　Fear　for　the　first　time　in　his　life　came　to　the　man；　and　he　and　the　dusky　servant　looked　at　each　other　with　eyes　in　which　there　was　a　strange　likeness；　and　by　a　common　instinct　moved　together　towards　the　place　where　the　silence　came　from。

〃When　the　man　opened　the　door　he　saw　three　things：　　one　was　the　dead　python；　lying　where　he　had　left　it；　the　second　was　a　live　python；　its　comrade　apparently；　slowly　crawling　round　it；　the　third　a　crushed；　bloody　heap　in　the　middle　of　the　floor。

〃He　himself　remembered　nothing　more　until；　weeks　afterwards；　he　opened　his　eyes　in　a　darkened；　unfamiliar　place；　but　the　native　servant；　before　he　fled　screaming　from　the　house；　saw　his　master　fling　himself　upon　the　living　serpent　and　grasp　it　with　his　hands；　and　when；　later　on；　others　burst　into　the　room　and　caught　him　staggering　in　their　arms；　they　found　the　second　python　with　its　head　torn　off。

〃That　is　the　incident　that　changed　the　character　of　my　manif　it　be　changed；〃　concluded　Jephson。　　〃He　told　it　me　one　night　as　we　sat　on　the　deck　of　the　steamer；　returning　from　Bombay。　　He　did　not　spare　himself。　　He　told　me　the　story；　much　as　I　have　told　it　to　you；　but　in　an　even；　monotonous　tone；　free　from　emotion　of　any　kind。　　I　asked　him；　when　he　had　finished；　how　he　could　bear　to　recall　it。

〃'Recall　it！'　he　replied；　with　a　slight　accent　of　surprise；　'it　is　always　with　me。'〃



CHAPTER　VIII



One　day　we　spoke　of　crime　and　criminals。　　We　had　discussed　the　possibility　of　a　novel　without　a　villain；　but　had　decided　that　it　would　be　uninteresting。

〃It　is　a　terribly　sad　reflection；〃　remarked　MacShaughnassy；　musingly；　〃but　what　a　desperately　dull　place　this　earth　would　be　if　it　were　not　for　our　friends　the　bad　people。　　Do　you　know；〃　he　continued；　〃when　I　hear　of　folks　going　about　the　world　trying　to　reform　everybody　and　make　them　good；　I　get　positively　nervous。　　Once　do　away　with　sin；　and　literature　will　become　a　thing　of　the　past。　Without　the　criminal　classes　we　authors　would　starve。〃

〃I　shouldn't　worry；〃　replied　Jephson；　drily；　〃one　half　mankind　has　been　'reforming'　the　other　half　pretty　steadily　ever　since　the　Creation；　yet　there　appears　to　be　a　fairly　appreciable　amount　of　human　nature　left　in　it；　notwithstanding。　　Suppressing　sin　is　much　the　same　sort　of　task　that　suppressing　a　volcano　would　beplugging　one　vent　merely　opens　another。　　Evil　will　last　our　time。〃

〃I　cannot　take　your　optimistic　view　of　the　case；〃　answered　MacShaughnassy。　　〃It　seems　to　me　that　crimeat　all　events；　interesting　crimeis　being　slowly　driven　out　of　our　existence。　Pirates　and　highwaymen　have　been　practically　abolished。　　Dear　old　'Smuggler　Bill'　has　melted　down　his　cutlass　into　a　pint…can　with　a　false　bottom。　　The　pressgang　that　was　always　so　ready　to　rescue　our　hero　from　his　approaching　marriage　has　been　disbanded。　　There's　not　a　lugger　fit　for　the　purposes　of　abduction　left　upon　the　coast。　　Men　settle　their　'affairs　of　honour'　in　the　law　courts；　and　return　home　wounded　only　in　the　pocket。　　Assaults　on　unprotected　females　are　confined　to　the　slums；　where　heroes　do　not　dwell；　and　are　avenged　by　the　nearest　magistrate。　　Your　modern　burglar　is　generally　an　out…of…　work　green…grocer。　　His　'swag'　usually　consists　of　an　overcoat　and　a　pair　of　boots；　in　attempting　to　make　off　with　which　he　is　captured　by　the　servant…girl。　　Suicides　and　murders　are　getting　scarcer　every　season。　　At　the　present　rate　of　decrease；　deaths　by　violence　will　be　unheard　of　in　another　decade；　and　a　murder　story　will　be　laughed　at　as　too　improbable　to　be　interesting。　　A　certain　section　of　busybodies　are　even　crying　out　for　the　enforcement　of　the　seventh　commandment。　　If　they　succeed　authors　will　have　to　follow　the　advice　generally　given　to　them　by　the　critics；　and　retire　from　business　altogether。　　I　tell　you　our　means　of　livelihood　are　being　filched　from　us　one　by　one。　　Authors　ought　to　form　themselves　into　a　society　for　the　support　and　encouragement　of　crime。〃

MacShaughnassy's　leading　intention　in　making　these　remarks　was　to　shock　and　grieve　Brown；　and　in　this　object　he　succeeded。　　Brown　is　or　was；　in　those　daysan　earnest　young　man　with　an　exaltedsome　were　inclined　to　say　an　exaggeratedview　of　the　importance　and　dignity　of　the　literary　profession。　　Brown's　notion　of　the　scheme　of　Creation　was　that　God　made　the　universe　so　as　to　give　the　literary　man　something　to　write　about。　　I　used　at　one　time　to　credit　Brown　with　originality　for　this　idea；　but　as　I　have　grown　older　I　have　learned　that　the　theory　is　a　very　common　and　popular　one　in　cultured　circles。

Brown　expostulated　with　MacShaughnassy。　　〃You　speak；〃　he　said；　〃as　though　literature　were　the　parasite　of　evil。〃

〃And　what　else　is　she？〃　replied　the　MacShaughnassy；　with　enthusiasm。　〃What　would　become　of　literature　without　folly　and　sin？　　What　is　the　work　of　the　literary　man　but　raking　a　living　for　himself　out　of　the　dust…heap　of　human　woe？　　Imagine；　if　you　can；　a　perfect　worlda　world　where　men　and　women　never　said　foolish　things　and　never　did　unwise　ones；　where　small　boys　were　never　mischievous　and　children　never　made　awkward　remarks；　where　dogs　never　fought　and　cats　never　screeched；　where　wives　never　henpecked　their　husbands　and　mothers…　in…law　never　nagged；　where　men　never　went　to　bed　in　their　boots　and　sea…captains　never　swore；　where　plumbers　understood　their　work　and　old　maids　never　dressed　as　girls；　where　niggers　never　stole　chickens　and　proud　men　were　never　sea…sick！　where　would　be　your　humour　and　your　wit？　　Imagine　a　world　where　hearts　were　never　bruised；　where　lips　were　never　pressed　with　pain；　where　eyes　were　never　dim；　where　feet　were　never　weary；　where　stomachs　were　never　empty！　where　would　be　your　pathos？　　Imagine　a　world　where　husbands　never　loved　more　wives　than　one；　and　that　the　right　one；　where　wives　were　never　kissed　but　by　their　husbands；　where　men's　hearts　were　never　black　and　women's　thoughts　never　impure；　where　there　was　no　hating　and　no　envying；　no　desiring；　no　despairing！　where　would　be　your　scenes　of　passion；　your　interesting　complications；　your　subtle　psychological　analyses？　　My　dear　Brown；　we　writersnovelists；　dramatists；　poets　we　fatten　on　the　misery　of　our　fellow…creatures。　　God　created　man　and　woma