the captives-第9部分

快捷操作: 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! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！

　of　those　sudden　impulses　of　misty　warmth　that　surprise　the　Glebeshire　frosts。　The　long　stretch　of　the　moor　was　enwrapped　by　a　thin　silver　network　of　haze；　the　warmth　of　the　sun；　seen　so　dimly　that　it　was　like　a　shadow　reflected　in　a　mirror；　struck　to　the　very　heart　of　the　soil。　Where　but　yesterday　there　had　been　iron　frost　there　was　now　soft　yielding　earth；　it　was　as　though　the　heat　of　the　central　fires　of　the　world　pressed　dimly　upward　through　many　miles　of　heavy　weighted　resistance；　straining　to　the　light　and　air。　Larks；　lost　in　golden　mist；　circled　in　space；　Maggie　could　feel　upon　her　face　and　neck　and　hands　the　warm　moisture；　the　soil　under　her　feet；　now　hard；　now　soft；　seemed　to　tremble　with　some　happy　anticipation；　the　moor；　wrapped　in　its　misty　colour；　had　no　bounds；　the　world　was　limitless　space　with　hidden　streams；　hidden　suns。

The　moor　had　a　pathetic　attraction　for　her；　because　not　very　long　ago　a　man　and　a　woman　had　been　lost；　only　a　few　steps　from　Borhedden　Farm；　in　the　mistlost　their　way　and　been　frozen　during　the　night。　Poor　things！　lovers；　perhaps；　they　had　been。

Maggie　felt　that　here　she　could　walk　for　miles　and　miles　and　that　there　was　nothing　to　stop　her；　the　clang　of　a　gate；　a　house；　a　wall；　a　human　voice　was　intolerable　to　her。

Her　first　thought　as　she　went　forward　was　disgust　at　her　own　weakness；　once　again　she　had　been　betrayed　by　her　feelings。　She　could　remember　no　single　time　when　they　had　not　betrayed　her。　She　recalled　now　with　an　intolerable　self…contempt　her　thoughts　of　her　father　at　the　time　of　the　funeral　and　the　hours　that　followed。　It　seemed　to　her　now　that　she　had　only　softened　towards　his　memory　because　she　had　believed　that　he　had　left　her　moneyand　now；　when　she　saw　that　he　had　treated　her　contemptuously；　she　found　him　once　again　the　cruel；　mean　figure　that　she　had　before　thought　him。

For　that　she　most　bitterly；　with　an　intensity　that　only　her　loneliness　could　have　given　her；　despised　herself。　And　yet　something　else　in　her　knew　that　that　reproach　was　not　a　true　one。　She　had　really　softened　towards　him　only　because　she　had　felt　that　she　had　behaved　badly　towards　him；　and　the　discovery　now　that　he　had　behaved　badly　towards　her　did　not　alter　her　own　original　behaviour。　She　did　not　analyse　all　this；　she　only　knew　that　there　were　in　her　longings　for　affection；　a　desire　to　be　loved；　an　aching　for　companionship；　and　that　these　things　must　always　be　kept　down；　fast　hidden　within　her。　She　realised　her　loneliness　now　with　a　fierce；　proud；　almost　exultant　independence。　No　more　tears；　no　more　leaning　upon　others；　no　more　expecting　anything　from　anybody。　She　was　not　dramatic　in　her　new　independence；　she　did　not　cry　defiance　to　the　golden　mist　or　the　larks　or　the　hidden　sun；　she　only　walked　on　and　on；　stumping　forward　in　her　clumsy　boots；　her　eyes　hard　and　unseeing；　her　hands　clasped　behind　her　back。

Her　expectation　of　happiness　in　her　opening　life　that　had　been　so　strong　with　her　that　other　day　when　she　had　looked　down　upon　Polchester　was　gone。　She　expected　nothing；　she　wanted　nothing。　Her　only　thought　was　that　she　would　never　yield　to　any　one；　never　care　for　any　one；　never　give　to　any　one　the　opportunity　of　touching　her。　At　moments　through　the　mist　came　the　figure　of　the　cook；　stout；　florid；　triumphant。　Maggie　regarded　her　contemptuously。　〃You　cannot　touch　me；〃　she　thought。　Of　her　father　she　would　never　think　again。　With　both　hands　she　flung　all　her　memories　of　him　into　the　mist　to　be　lost　for　ever　。　。　。

She　came　suddenly　upon　a　lonely　farm…house。　She　knew　the　place；　Borhedden；　it　had　often　been　a　favourite　walk　of　hers　from　the　Vicarage　to　Borhedden。　The　farmer　let　rooms　there　and；　because　the　house　was　very　old；　some　of　the　rooms　were　fine；　with　high　ceilings；　thick　stone　walls；　and　even　some　good　panelling。　The　view　too　was　superb；　across　to　the　Broads　and　the　Molecatcher；　or　back　to　the　Dreot　Woods；　or　to　the　dim　towers　of　Polchester　Cathedral。　The　air　here　was　fineone　of　the　healthiest　spots　in　Glebeshire。

The　farm　to…day　was　transfigured　by　the　misty　glow；　cows　and　horses　could　be　faintly　seen；　ricks　burnt　with　a　dim　fire。　Somewhere　dripping　water　falling　on　to　stone　gave　a　vocal　spirit　to　the　obscurity。　The　warm　air　seemed　to　radiate　about　the　house　like　a　flame　that　is　obscured　by　sunlight。

The　stealthy　movements　of　the　animals；　the　dripping　of　the　water；　were　the　only　sounds。　To　Maggie　the　house　seemed　to　say　something；　something　comforting　and　reassuring。

Standing　there；　she　registered　her　vow　that　through　all　her　life　she　would　care　for　no　one。　No　one　should　touch　her。

Had　there　been　an　observer　he　might　have　found　some　food　for　his　irony　in　the　contemplation　of　that　small；　insignificant　figure　so　ignorant　of　life　and　so　defiant　of　it。　He　would　have　found　perhaps　something　pathetic　also。　Maggie　thought　neither　of　irony　nor　of　pathos；　but　turned　homewards　with　her　mouth　set；　her　eyes　grave；　her　heart　controlled。

As　she　walked　back　the　sun　broke　through　the　mist；　and；　turning；　she　could　see　Borhedden　like　a　house　on　fire；　its　windows　blazing　against　the　sky。

It　was　natural　that　her　aunt　should　wish　to　return　to　London　as　soon　as　possible。　For　one　thing；　Ellen　the　cook　had　packed　her　clothes　and　retired　to　some　place　in　the　village；　there　to　await　the　departure　of　the　defeated　family。　Then　the　house　was　not　only　unpleasant　by　reason　of　its　atmosphere　and　associations；　but　there　were　also　the　definite　discomforts　of　roofs　through　which　the　rain　dripped　and　floors　that　swayed　beneath　one's　tread。　Moreover；　Aunt　Elizabeth　did　not　care　to　be　left　alone　in　the　London　house。

Uncle　Mathew　left　on　the　day　after　the　funeral。　He　had　one　little　last　conversation　with　Maggie。

〃I　hope　you'll　be　happy　in　London；〃　he　said。

〃I　hope　so；〃　said　Maggie。

〃I　know　you'll　do　what　you　can　to　help　your　aunts。〃　Then　he　went　on　more　nervously。　〃Think　of　me　sometimes。　I　shan't　be　able　to　come　and　see　you　very　often；　you　knowtoo　busy。　But　I　shall　like　to　know　that　you're　thinking　about　me。〃

Maggie's　new…found　resolution　taken　so　defiantly　upon　the　moor　was　suddenly　severely　tested。　She　felt　as　though　her　uncle　were　leaving　her　to　a　world　of　enemies。　She　drove　down　her　sense　of　desolation；　and　he　saw　nothing　but　her　quiet　composure。

〃Of　course　I'll　think　of　you；〃　she　answered。　〃And　you　must　come　often。〃

〃They　don't　like　me；〃　he　said；　nodding　his　head　towards　where　Aunt　Anne　might　be　supposed　to　be　waiting。　〃It's　not　my　fault　altogether…　…but　they　have　severe　ideas。　It's　religion；　of　course。〃

She　suddenly　seemed　to　see　in　his　eyes　some　terror　or　despair；　as　though　he　knew　that　he　was　going　to　drop　〃this　time〃farther　than　ever　before。

She　caught　his　arm。　〃Uncle　Mathew；　what　are　you　going　to　do？　Where　will　you　live？　Take　my　three　hundred　pounds　if　it　will　help　you。　I　don't　want　it　just　now。　Keep　it　for　me。〃

He　had　a　moment　of　resolute；　clear…sighted　honesty。　〃No；　my　dear；　if　I　had　it　it　would　go　in　a　week。　I　can't　keep　money；　I　never　could。　I'm　really　better　without　any。　I'm　all　right。　You'll　never　get　rid　of　medon't　you　fear。　We've　got　more　in　common　than　you　think；　although　you're　a　good　girl　and　I've　gone　to　pieces　a　bit。　All　the　same　there's　plenty　worse　than　me。　Your　aunt；　for　all　her　religion；　is　damned　difficult　for　a　plain　man　to　get　along　with。　Most　people　would　find　me　better　company；　after　all。　One　last　word；　Maggie。〃

He　bent　down　and　whispered　to　her。　〃Don't　you　go　getting　caught　by　that　sweep　who　runs　their　chapel　up　in　London。　He's　a　humbug　if　ever　there　was　oneyou　mark　my　words。　I　know　a　thing　or　two。　He's　done　your　aunts　a　lot　of　harm；　and　he'll　have　his　dirty　fingers　on　you　if　you　let　him。〃

So　he　departed；　his　last　kiss　mingled　with　the　usual　aroma　of　whisky　and　tobacco；　his　last　attitude；　as　he　turned　away；　that　strange　confusion　of　assumed　dignity　and　natural　genial　stupidity　that　was　so　especially　his。

Maggie　turned；　with　all　her　new　defiant　resolution；　to　face　the　world　alone　with　her　Aunt　Anne。　Throughout　the　next　day　she　was　busied　with　collecting　her　few　possessions；　with　her　farewells　to　the　one　or　two　people　in　the　village　who　had　been　kind　to　her；　and　with　little　sudden；　almost　surreptitious　visits　to　corners　of　the　house；　the　garden；　the　wood　where　she　had　at　one　time　or　another　been　happy。

As　the　evening　fell　and　a　sudden　storm　of　rain　leapt　up　from　beneath　the　hill　and　danced　about　the　house；　she　had　a　wild　longing　to　stay…　…to　stay　at　any　cost　and　in　any　discomfort。　London　had　no　longer　interest；　but　only　terror　and　dismay。　She　ran　out　into　the　dark　and　rain…drenched　garden；　felt　her　way　to　an　old　and　battered　seat　that　had　seen　in　older　days　dolls'　tea…parties　and　the　ravages　of　bad…　temper；　stared　from　it　across　the　kitchen…garden　to　the　lights　of　the　village；　that　seemed　to　rock　and　shiver　in　the　wind　and　rain。

She　stared　passionately　at　the　lights；　her　heart　beating　as　though　it　would　suffocate　her。　At　last；　her　clothes　soaked　with　the　storm；　her　hair　dripping；　she　returned　to　the　house。　Her　aunt　was　in　the　hall。

〃My　dear　Maggie；　where　have　you　been？〃　in　a　voice　that　was　kind　but　aghast。

〃In　the　garden；〃　said　Maggie；　hating　her　aunt。

〃But　it's　pouring　with　rain！　You're　soaking！　You　must　change　at　once！　Did　you　go　out　t