fraternity- 第53部分

Stephen　walked　across　to　the　rustic　bench　and　sat　down。　　He　stared　gloomily　through　the　dusk　at　his　patent…leather　boots；　and　every　now　and　then　he　flicked　his　evening　trousers　with　the　letter。　　Across　the　dark　garden；　where　the　boughs　hung　soft；　unmoved　by　wind；　the　light　from　Mr。　Stone's　open　window　flowed　out　in　a　pale　river；　moths；　born　of　the　sudden　heat；　were　fluttering　up　this　river　to　its　source。

Stephen　looked　irritably　at　the　figure　of　Mr。　Stone；　which　could　be　seen；　bowed；　and　utterly　still；　beside　his　desk；　so；　by　lifting　the　spy…hole　thatch；　one　may　see　a　convict　in　his　cell　stand　gazing　at　his　work；　without　movement；　numb　with　solitude。

'He's　getting　awfully　broken　up；'　thought　Stephen。　　'Poor　old　chap！　His　ideas　are　killing　him。　　They're　not　human　nature；　never　will　be。'　Again　he　flicked　his　trousers　with　the　letter；　as　though　that　document　emphasised　the　fact。　　'I　can't　help　being　sorry　for　the　sublime　old　idiot！'

He　rose；　the　better　to　see　his　father…in…law's　unconscious　figure。　It　looked　as　lifeless　and　as　cold　as　though　Mr。　Stone　had　followed　some　thought　below　the　ground；　and　left　his　body　standing　there　to　await　his　return。　　Its　appearance　oppressed　Stephen。

'You　might　set　the　house　on　fire；'　he　thought；　'he'd　never　notice。'

Mr。　Stone's　figure　moved；　the　sound　of　along　sigh　came　out　to　Stephen　in　the　windless　garden。　　He　turned　his　eyes　away；　with　the　sudden　feeling　that　it　was　not　the　thing　to　watch　the　old　chap　like　this；　then；　getting　up；　he　went　indoors。　　In　his　brother's　study　he　stood　turning　over　the　knick…knacks　on　the　writing…table。

'I　warned　Hilary　that　he　was　burning　his　fingers；'　he　thought。

At　the　sound　of　the　latch…key　he　went　back　to　the　hall。

However　much　he　had　secretly　disapproved　of　her　from　the　beginning；　because　she　had　always　seemed　to　him　such　an　uncomfortable　and　tantalising　person；　Stephen　was　impressed　that　night　by　the　haunting　unhappiness　of　Bianca's　face；　as　if　it　had　been　suddenly　disclosed　to　him　that　she　could　not　help　herself。　　This　was　disconcerting；　being；　in　a　sense；　a　disorderly　way　of　seeing　things。

〃You　look　tired；　B。；〃　he　said。　　〃I'm　sorry；　but　I　thought　it　better　to　bring　this　round　tonight。〃

Bianca　glanced　at　the　letter。

〃It　is　to　you；〃　she　said。　　〃I　don't　wish　to　read　it；　thank　you。〃

Stephen　compressed　his　lips。

〃But　I　wish　you　to　hear　it；　please；〃　he　said。　　〃I'll　read　it　out；　if　you'll　allow　me。

〃'CHARING　CROSS　STATION。

〃'DEAR　STEVIE；

〃'I　told　you　yesterday　morning　that　I　was　going　abroad　alone。　Afterwards　I　changed　my　mindI　meant　to　take　her。　　I　went　to　her　lodgings　for　the　purpose。　　I　have　lived　too　long　amongst　sentiments　for　such　a　piece　of　reality　as　that。　　Class　has　saved　me；　it　has　triumphed　over　my　most　primitive　instincts。

〃'I　am　going　aloneback　to　my　sentiments。　　No　slight　has　been　placed　on　Biancabut　my　married　life　having　become　a　mockery；　I　shall　not　return　to　it。　　The　following　address　will　find　me；　and　I　shall　ask　you　presently　to　send　on　my　household　gods。

〃'Please　let　Bianca　know　the　substance　of　this　letter。

〃'Ever　your　affectionate　brother；

〃'HILARY　DALLISON。〃'


With　a　frown　Stephen　folded　up　the　letter；　and　restored　it　to　his　breast　pocket。

'It's　more　bitter　than　I　thought；'　he　reflected；　'and　yet　he's　done　the　only　possible　thing！'

Bianca　was　leaning　her　elbow　on　the　mantelpiece　with　her　face　turned　to　the　wall。　　Her　silence　irritated　Stephen；　whose　loyalty　to　his　brother　longed　to　fend　a　vent。

〃I'm　very　much　relieved；　of　course；〃　he　said　at　last。　　〃It　would　have　been　fatal〃

She　did　not　move；　and　Stephen　became　increasingly　aware　that　this　was　a　most　awkward　matter　to　touch　on。

〃Of　course；〃　he　began　again。　　〃But；　B。；　I　do　think　youratherI　mean…〃　And　again　he　stopped　before　her　utter　silence；　her　utter　immobility。　　Then；　unable　to　go　away　without　having　in　some　sort　expressed　his　loyalty　to　Hilary；　he　tried　once　more：　〃Hilary　is　the　kindest　man　I　know。　　It's　not　his　fault　if　he's　out　of　touch　with　lifeif　he's　not　fit　to　deal　with　things。　　He's　negative！〃

And　having　thus　in　a　single　word；　somewhat　to　his　own　astonishment；　described　his　brother；　he　held　out　his　hand。

The　hand　which　Bianca　placed　in　it　was　feverishly　hot。　　Stephen　felt　suddenly　compunctious。

〃I'm　awfully　sorry；〃　he　stammered；　〃about　the　whole　thing。　　I'm　awfully　sorry　for　you…〃

Bianca　drew　back　her　hand。

With　a　little　shrug　Stephen　turned　away。

'What　are　you　to　do　with　women　like　that？'　was　his　thought；　and　saying　dryly；　〃Good…night；　B。；〃　he　went。

For　some　time　Bianca　sat　in　Hilary's　chair。　　Then；　by　the　faint　glimmer　coming　through　the　half…open　door；　she　began　to　wander　round　the　room；　touching　the　walls；　the　books；　the　prints；　all　the　familiar　things　among　which　he　had　lived　so　many　years。。。。

In　that　dim　continual　journey　she　was　like　a　disharmonic　spirit　traversing　the　air　above　where　its　body　lies。

The　door　creaked　behind　her。　　A　voice　said　sharply：

〃What　are　you　doing　in　this　house？〃

Mr。　Stone　was　standing　beside　the　bust　of　Socrates。　　Bianca　went　up　to　him。

〃Father！〃

Mr。　Stone　stared。　　〃It　is　you！　　I　thought　it　was　a　thief！　　Where　is　Hilary？〃

〃Gone　away。〃

〃Alone？〃

Bianca　bowed　her　head。　　〃It　is　very　late；　Dad；〃　she　whispered。

Mr。　Stone's　hand　moved　as　though　he　would　have　stroked　her。

〃The　human　heart；〃　he　murmured；　〃is　the　tomb　of　many　feelings。〃

Bianca　put　her　arm　round　him。

〃You　must　go　to　bed；　Dad；〃　she　said；　trying　to　get　him　to　the　door；　for　in　her　heart　something　seemed　giving　way。

Mr。　Stone　stumbled；　the　door　swung　to；　the　room　was　plunged　in　darkness。　　A　hand；　cold　as　ice；　brushed　her　cheek。　　With　all　her　force　she　stiffed　a　scream。

〃I　am　here；〃　Mr。　Stone　said。

His　hand；　wandering　downwards；　touched　her　shoulder；　and　she　seized　it　with　her　own　burning　hand。　　Thus　linked；　they　groped　their　way　out　into　the　passage　towards　his　room。

〃Good…night；　dear；〃　Bianca　murmured。

By　the　light　of　his　now　open　door　Mr。　Stone　seemed　to　try　and　see　her　face；　but　she　would　not　show　it　him。　　Closing　the　door　gently；　she　stole　upstairs。

Sitting　down　in　her　bedroom　by　the　open　window；　it　seemed　to　her　that　the　room　was　full　of　peopleher　nerves　were　so　unstrung。　　It　was　as　if　walls　had　not　the　power　this　night　to　exclude　human　presences。　Moving；　or　motionless；　now　distinct；　then　covered　suddenly　by　the　thick　veil　of　some　material　object；　they　circled　round　her　quiet　figure；　lying　back　in　the　chair　with　shut　eyes。　　These　disharmonic　shadows　flitting　in　the　room　made　a　stir　like　the　rubbing　of　dry　straw　or　the　hum　of　bees　among　clover　stalks。　　When　she　sat　up　they　vanished；　and　the　sounds　became　the　distant　din　of　homing　traffic；　but　the　moment　she　closed　her　eyes；　her　visitors　again　began　to　steal　round　her　with　that　dry；　mysterious　hum。

She　fell　asleep　presently；　and　woke　with　a　start。　　There；　in　a　glimmer　of　pale　light；　stood　the　little　model；　as　in　the　fatal　picture　Bianca　had　painted　of　her。　　Her　face　was　powder　white；　with　shadows　beneath　the　eyes。　　Breath　seemed　coming　through　her　parted　lips；　just　touched　with　colour。　　In　her　hat　lay　the　tiny　peacock's　feather　beside　the　two　purplish…pink　roses。　　A　scent　came　from　her；　toobut　faint；　as　ever　was　the　scent　of　chicory　flower。　　How　long　had　she　been　standing　there？　　Bianca　started　to　her　feet；　and　as　she　rose　the　vision　vanished。

She　went　towards　the　spot。　　There　was　nothing　in　that　corner　but　moonlight；　the　scent　she　had　perceived　was　merely　that　of　the　trees　drifting　in。

But　so　vivid　had　that　vision　been　that　she　stood　at　the　window；　panting　for　air；　passing　her　hand　again　and　again　across　her　eyes。

Outside；　over　the　dark　gardens；　the　moon　hung　full　and　almost　golden。　Its　honey…pale　light　filtered　down　on　every　little　shape　of　tree；　and　leaf；　and　sleeping　flower。　　That　soft；　vibrating　radiance　seemed　to　have　woven　all　into　one　mysterious　whole；　stilling　disharmony；　so　that　each　little　separate　shape　had　no　meaning　to　itself。

Bianca　looked　long　at　the　rain　of　moonlight　falling　on　the　earth's　carpet；　like　a　covering　shower　of　blossom　which　bees　have　sucked　and　spilled。　　Then；　below　her；　out　through　candescent　space；　she　saw　a　shadow　dart　forth　along　the　grass；　and　to　her　fright　a　voice　rose；　tremulous　and　clear；　seeming　to　seek　enfranchisement　beyond　the　barrier　of　the　dark　trees：　〃My　brain　is　clouded。　　Great　Universe！　　I　cannot　write！　　I　can　no　longer　discover　to　my　brothers　that　they　are　one。　　I　am　not　worthy　to　stay　here。　　Let　me　pass　into　You；　and　die！〃

Bianca　saw　her　father's　fragile　arms　stretch　out　into　the　night　through　the　sleeves　of　his　white　garment；　as　though　expecting　to　be　received　at　once　into　the　Universal　Brotherhood　of　the　thin　air。

There　ensued　a　moment；　when；　by　magic；　every　little　dissonance　in　all　the　town　seemed　blended　into　a　harmony　of　silence；　as　it　might　be　the　very　death　of　self　upon　the　earth。

Then；　breaking　that　trance；　Mr。　Stone's　voice　rose　again；　trembling　out　into　the　night；　as　though　blown　through　a　reed。

〃Brothers！〃　he　said。

Behind　the　screen　of　lilac　bushes　at　the　gate　Bianca　saw　the　dark　helmet　of　a　policeman。　　He　stood　there　staring　steadily　in　the　direction　of　that　voice。　　Raising　his　lantern；　he　flashed　it　into　every　corner　of　the　garden；　searching　for　those　who　had　been　addressed。　　Satisfied；　apparently；　that　no　one　was　there；　he　moved　it　to　right　and　left；　lowered　it　to　the　level　of　his　breast；　and　walked　slowly　on。





End