the captives-第14部分

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She　turned　round；　blushing　at　being　caught　staring　up　at　a　cuckoo…　clock　like　a　baby　in　her　nightdress；　to　face　the　wrinkled　old　woman　who　the　night　before　had　brought　her；　with　a　grudging　countenance；　her　supper。　Maggie　had　thought　then　that　this　old　Martha　did　not　like　her　and　resented　the　extra　work　that　her　stay　in　the　house　involved；　she　was　now　more　than　ever　sure　of　that　dislike。

〃I　thought　I　was　to　be　called　at　half…past　seven。〃

〃Eight　on　Sundays；〃　said　the　old　woman。　〃I　hope　you're　better　this　morning；　miss。〃

Maggie　felt　this　to　be　deeply　ironical　and　flushed。

〃I'm　quite　well；　thank　you；〃　she　said　stiffly。　〃What　time　is　breakfast　on　Sundays？〃

〃The　prayer…bell　rings　at　a　quarter　to　nine；　miss。〃

They　exchanged　no　more　conversation。

At　a　quarter　to　nine　a　shrill；　jangling　bell　rang　out　and　Maggie　hurried　down　the　dark　staircase。　She　did　not　know　where　the　dining…　room　was；　but　by　good　chance　she　caught　sight　of　Aunt　Elizabeth's　little　body　moving　hurriedly　down　the　passage　and　hastened　after　her。　She　arrived　only　just　in　time。　There；　standing　in　a　row　before　four　chairs；　their　faces　red　and　shining；　their　hands　folded　in　front　of　them；　were　the　domestics；　there；　with　a　little　high　desk　in　front　of　her；　on　the　other　side　of　the　long　dining…room　table　was　Aunt　Anne；　here；　near　the　door；　were　two　chairs　obviously　intended　for　Aunt　Elizabeth　and　Maggie。

Maggie　in　her　haste　pushed　the　door；　and　it　banged　loudly　behind　her；　in　the　silent　room　the　noise　echoed　through　the　house。　It　was　followed　by　a　piercing　scream　from　Edward；　whom；　Maggie　concluded；　it　had　awakened。　All　this　confused　her　very　much　and　gave　her　anything　but　a　religious　state　of　mind。

What　followed　resembled　very　much　the　ceremonies　with　which　her　father　had　been　accustomed　to　begin　the　day；　except　that　her　father；　with　one　eye　on　the　bacon；　had　gabbled　at　frantic　pace　through　the　prayers　and　Aunt　Anne　read　them　very　slowly　and　with　great　beauty。　She　read　from　the　Gospel　of　St。　John：　〃These　things　I　command　you；　that　ye　love　one　another　。　。　。〃；　but　the　clear；　sweet　tones　of　her　voice　gave　no　conviction　of　a　love　for　mankind。

Maggie　looking　from　that　pale　remote　face　to　the　roughened　cheeks　and　plump　body　of　the　kitchen…maid　felt　that　here　there　could　be　no　possible　bond。　When　they　knelt　down　she　was　conscious；　as　she　had　been　since　she　was　a　tiny　child；　of　two　thingsthe　upturned　heels　of　the　servants'　boots　and　the　discomfort　to　her　own　knees。　These　two　facts　had　always　hindered　her　religious　devotions；　and　they　hindered　them　now。　There　had　always　been　to　her　something　irresistibly　comic　in　those　upturned　heels；　the　dull　flat　surfaces　of　these　cheap　shoes。　In　the　kitchen…maid's　there　were　the　signs　of　wear；　Martha's　were　new　and　shining；　the　house…maid's　were　smart　and　probably　creaked　abominably。　The　bodies　above　them　sniffed　and　rustled　and　sighed。　The　vacant；　stupid　faces　of　the　shoes　were　Aunt　Anne's　only　audience。　Maggie　wondered　what　the　owners　of　those　shoes　felt　about　the　house。　Had　they　a　sense　of　irritation　too　or　did　they　perhaps　think　about　nothing　at　all　save　their　food；　their　pay　and　their　young　man　or　their　night　out？　The　pain　to　her　knees　pierced　her　thoughts；　the　prayers　were　very　long？Aunt　Anne's　beautiful　voice　was　interminable。

Breakfast　was　quiet　and　silent。　Edward；　who　received　apparently　a　larger　meal　on　Sundays　than　at　ordinary　times；　chattered　happily　to　himself；　and　Maggie　heard　him　say　complacently；　〃Poor　Parrot？Poor　Parrot。　How　do　you　do？　How　do　you　do？〃

〃Service　is　at　eleven　o'clock；　dear；〃　said　Aunt　Anne。　〃We　leave　the　house　at　ten　minutes　to　eleven。〃

Maggie；　not　knowing　what　to　do　with　the　hour　in　front　of　her；　went　up　to　her　bedroom；　found　the　servant　making　the　bed；　came　down　into　the　drawing…room　and　sat　in　a　dark　corner　under　a　large　bead　mat；　that；　nailed　to　the　wall；　gave　little　taps　and　rustlings　as　though　it　were　trying　to　escape。

She　felt　that　she　should　be　doing　something；　but　what？　She　sat　there；　straining　her　ear　for　sounds。　〃One　always　seems　to　be　expecting　some　one　in　this　house；〃　she　thought。　The　weather　that　had　been　bright　had　now　changed　and　little　gusts　of　rain　beat　upon　the　windows。　She　thought　with　a　sudden　strange　warmth　of　Uncle　Mathew。　What　was　he　doing？　Where　was　he？　How　pleasant　it　would　be　were　he　suddenly　to　walk　into　that　chilly；　dark　room。　She　would　not　show　him　that　she　was　lonely；　but　she　would　give　him　such　a　welcome　as　he　had　never　had　from　her　before。　Had　he　money　enough？　Was　he　feeling　perhaps　as　desolate　amongst　strangers　as　she？　The　rain　tickled　the　window…panes。　Maggie；　with　a　desolation　at　her　heart　that　she　was　too　proud　to　own；　sat　there　and　waited。

She　looked　back　afterwards　upon　that　moment　as　the　last　shivering　pause　before　she　made　that　amazing　plunge　that　was　to　give　her　new　life。

The　sound　of　a　little　forlorn　bell　suddenly　penetrated　the　rain。　It　was　just　such　a　bell　as　rang　every　Sunday　from　chapels　across　the　Glebeshire　moors；　and　Maggie　knew；　when　Aunt　Elizabeth　opened　the　door　and　looked　in　upon　her；　that　the　summons　was　for　her。

〃Oh！　my　dear　（a　favourite　exclamation　of　Aunt　Elizabeth's）　and　you're　not　ready。　The　bell's　begun。　The　rain's　coming　down　very　hard；　I'm　afraid。　It's　only　a　step　from　our　door。　Your　things；　dear；　as　quick　as　you　can。〃

The　girl　ran　upstairs　and；　stayed　by　some　sudden　impulse；　stood　for　a　moment　before　the　long　mirror。　It　was　as　though　she　were　imploring　that　familiar　casual　figure　that　she　saw　there　not　to　leave　her；　the　only　friend　she　had　in　a　world　that　was　suddenly　terrifying　and　alarming。　Her　old　black　dress　that　had　seemed　almost　smart　for　the　St。　Dreot　funeral　now　appeared　most　desperately　shabby；　she　knew　that　her　black　hat　was　anything　but　attractive。

〃What　do　I　care　for　them　all！〃　her　heart　said　defiantly。　〃What　do　they　matter　to　me！〃

She　marched　out　of　the　house　behind　the　aunts　with　her　head　in　the　air；　very　conscious　of　a　hole　in　one　of　her　thin　black　gloves。

The　street；　deserted；　danced　in　the　rain；　the　little　bell　clanged　with　the　stupid　monotony　of　its　one　obstinate　idea；　the　town　wore　its　customary　Sunday　air　of　a　stage　when　the　performance　is　concluded；　the　audience　vanished　and　the　lights　turned　down。　The　aunts　had　a　solemn　air　as　though　they　were　carrying　Maggie　as　a　sacrifice。　All　these　things　were　depressing。

They　turned　out　of　their　own　street　into　a　thin；　grey　one　in　which　the　puddles　sprang　and　danced　against　isolated　milk…cans　and　a　desolate　pillar…box。　The　little　bell　was　now　loud　and　strident；　and　when　they　passed　into　a　passage　which　led　into　a　square；　rather　grimy　yard；　Maggie　saw　that　they　had　arrived。　Before　her　was　a　hideous　building；　the　colour　of　beef　badly　cooked；　with　grey　stone　streaks　in　it　here　and　there　and　thin；　narrow　windows　of　grey　glass　with　stiff；　iron　divisions　between　the　glass。　The　porch　to　the　door　was　of　the　ugliest　grey　stone　with　〃The　Lord　Cometh〃　in　big　black　letters　across　the　top　of　it。　Just　inside　the　door　was　a　muddy　red　mat；　and　near　the　mat　stood　a　gentleman　in　a　faded　frock…coat　and　brown　boots；　an　official　apparently。　There　arrived　at　the　same　time　as　Maggie　and　her　aunts　a　number　of　ladies　and　gentlemen　all　hidden　beneath　umbrellas。　As　they　stood　in　the　doorway　a　sudden　scurry　of　wind　and　rain　drove　them　all　forward　so　that　there　was　some　crush　and　confusion　in　the　little　passage　beyond　the　door。　Waterproofs　steamed；　umbrellas　were　ranged　in　dripping　disorder　against　the　wall。　The　official；　who　talked　in　a　hushed　whisper　that　was　drowned　by　the　creaking　of　his　boots；　welcomed　them　all　with　the　intimacy　of　an　old　acquaintance。　〃Oh；　Miss　Hearstterrible　weatherno；　she's　not　here　yet。〃　〃Good　morning；　Mrs。　Smithvery　glad　you're　better。　Yes；　I　spoke　to　them　about　the　prayer…books。　They　promised　to　return　them　this　morning　。　。　。〃　and　so　on。　He　turned；　pushed　back　a　door　and　led　the　way　into　the　chapel。　The　interior　was　as　ugly　as　the　outside。　The　walls　were　of　the　coldest　grey　stone；　broken　here　and　there　by　the　lighter　grey　of　a　window。　Across　the　roof　were　rafters　built　of　that　bright　shining　wood　that　belongs　intimately　to　colonial　life；　sheep…shearing；　apples　of　an　immense　size　and　brushwood。　Two　lamps　of　black　iron　hung　from　these　rafters。　At　the　farther　end　of　the　chapel　was　a　rail　of　this　same　bright　wood；　and　behind　the　rail　a　desk　and　a　chair。　In　front　of　the　rail　was　a　harmonium　before　which　was　already　seated　a　stout　and　expectant　lady；　evidently　eager　to　begin　her　duties　of　the　day。　The　chapel　was　not　very　large　and　was　already　nearly　filled。　The　congregation　was　sitting　in　absolute　silence；　so　that　the　passing　of　Maggie　and　her　aunts　up　the　aisle　attracted　great　attention。　All　eyes　were　turned　in　their　direction　and　Maggie　felt　that　she　herself　was　an　object　of　very　especial　interest。

Aunt　Anne　walked　first　and　took　what　was　obviously　her　own　regular　seat　near　the　front。　Maggie　sat　between　her　two　aunts。　She　could　not　feel　for　the　moment　anything　but　a　startled　surprise　at　the　ugliness　of　the　building。　She　had　entered　at　different　times　the　Glebeshire　chapels；　but　their　primitive　position　and　need　had　given　them　the　spirit　of　honest　sincerity。　Here　she　had　expected　she　did　not　know　what。　Always　from　those　very　early　days　when　sh