the fortunes of oliver horn- 第42部分

Mrs。　Grant　went　on；　not　having　heard　a　word　of　John's　aside：　〃This　table　you're　eating　from；　once　belonged　to　Mr。　Adams。　He　gave　it　to　my　father；　who　often　spent　a　week　at　a　time　with　him　in　the　White　House。〃

〃And　I　wish　he　was　there　now；〃　interrupted　Silas　from　the　foot　of　the　table。　〃He'd　straighten　out　this　snarl　we're　drifting　into。　Looks　to　me　as　if　there　would　be　some　powder　burnt　before　this　thing　is　over。　What　do　your　people　say　about　it？〃　and　he　nodded　at　Oliver。　He　had　served　the　turkey；　and　was　now　sharpening　the　carver　for　the　boiled　ham；　trying　the　edge　with　his　thumb；　as　Shylock　did。

〃I　haven't　been　at　home　for　some　time；　sir；〃　replied　　Oliver；　in　a　courteous　tonehe　intended　to　be　polite　to　the　end〃and　so　I　cannot　say。　My　father's　　letters；　seem　to　be　very　anxious；　but　mother　doesn't　think　there'll　be　any　trouble；　at　least　she　said　so　in　her　last　letter。〃

Silas　looked　up　from　under　the　tufts　of　cotton…　wool。　Were　the　mothers　running　the　politics　of　the　South；　he　wondered？

〃And　there's　another　thing　you　folks　might　as　well　remember。　We're　not　going　to　let　you　break　up　the　Union；　and　we're　not　going　to　pay　you　for　your　slaves；　either；〃　and　he　plunged　the　fork　into　the　ham　that　the　spectacled　waitress　had　laid　before　him　and　rose　in　his　chair；　the　knife　poised　in　his　hand　to　carve　it　the　better。

〃Mr。　Horn　hasn't　got　any　slaves　to　sell；　father　didn't　you　hear　him　say　so？　His　father　freed　his；〃　laughed　Margaret。　Her　father's　positiveness　never　really　worried　her。　She　rather　liked　it　at　times。　It　was　only　because　she　had　read　in　Oliver's　face　the　impression　her　father　was　making　upon　him　that　she　essayed　to　soften　the　force　of　his　remarks。

〃I　heard　him；　Margaret；　I　heard　him。　Glad　of　itbut　he's　the　only　man　from　his　parts　that　I　ever　heard　who　did。　The　others　won't　give　'em　up　so　easy。　They　hung　John　Brown　for　trying　to　help　the　negroes　free　themselves；　don't　forget　that。〃　Oliver　looked　up　and　knitted　his　brows。　Silas　saw　it。　〃I'm　not　meaning　any　offence　to　you；　young　man；〃　he　said　quickly；　waving　the　knife　toward　Oliver。　〃I'm　taking　this　question　on　broad　grounds。　If　I　had　my　way　I'd　teach　those　slave…drivers〃　and　he　buried　the　knife　in　the　yielding　ham；　〃that〃

〃They　did　just　right　to　hang　him；〃　interrupted　John。　〃Brown　was　a　fanatic；　and　ought　to　have　stayed　at　home。　No　one　is　stronger　than　the　law。　That's　where　old　Ossawatomie　Brown　made　a　mistake。〃　　Everybody　was　entitled　to　express　his　or　her　opinion　in　this　house　except　the　dear　old　mother。　Margaret's　fearless　independence　of　manner　and　thought　had　been　nurtured　in　fertile　soil。

Mrs。　Grant　had　been　vainly　trying　to　get　the　drift　of　the　conversation；　her　hand　behind　her　ear。

〃Parson　Brown；　did　you　say；　John？　He　married　　us；　sir；〃　and　she　turned　to　Oliver。　〃He　lived　here　over　forty　years。　The　church　that　you　passed　was　where　he　preached。〃

John　laughed；　and　so　did　Silas；　at　the　old　lady's　mistake；　but　Oliver　only　became　the　more　attentive　to　his　hostess。　He　was　profoundly　grateful　to　the　reverend　gentleman　for　coming　out　of　his　grave　at　this　opportune　moment　and　diverting　the　talk　into　other　channels。　Why　did　they　want　to　bother　him　with　all　this　talk　about　slavery　and　the　South；　when　he　was　so　happy　he　could　hardly　stay　in　his　skin？　It　set　his　teeth　on　edgehe　wished　that　the　dinner　were　over　and　everybody　down　at　the　bottom　of　the　sea　but　Margaret；　he　had　come　to　see　his　sweetheart　not　to　talk　slavery。

〃Yes；　I　saw　the　church；〃　and　for　the　rest　of　the　dinner；　Oliver　was　entertained　with　the　details　in　the　life　of　the　Rev。　Leonidas　Brown；　including　his　manner　　of　preaching；　the　crowds　who　would　go　to　hear　him；　the　number　converted　under　the　good　man's　ministrations；　to　all　of　which　Oliver　listened　with　a　closeness　of　attention　that　would　have　surprised　those　who　knew　him　unless　they　had　discovered　that　his　elbow　had　found　Margaret's　during　the　recital；　and　that　the　biography　of　every　member　of　Brown's　　congregation　might　have　been　added　to　that　of　the　　beloved　pastor　without　wearying　him　in　the　slightest　degree。

When　the　nuts　were　servedSilas　broke　his　with　his　fingershis　host　made　one　more　effort　to　draw　Oliver　into　a　discussion；　but　Margaret　stopped　it　by　exclaiming；　suddenly：

〃Where　shall　Mr。　Horn　smoke；　mother？〃　She　wanted　Oliver　to　herselfthe　family　had　had　him　long　enough。

〃Why；　does　he　want　to　SMOKE？〃　she　answered；　with　some　consternation。

〃Yes；　of　course　he　does。　All　painters　smoke。〃

〃Well；　I　don't　know；　let　me　see。〃　The　old　lady　hesitated　as　if　seeking　the　choice　between　two　evils。　〃I　suppose　in　the　sitting…room。　Nothe　library　would　be　better。〃

〃Oh；　I　won't　smoke　at　all　if　your　mother　does　not　like　it；〃　Oliver　protested；　springing　from　his　chair。

〃Oh；　yes；　you　will；〃　interrupted　John。　〃I　never　smoke；　and　father　don't；　but　I　know　how　good　a　pipe　tastes。　Let's　go　into　the　library。〃

Margaret　gave　Oliver　the　big　chair　and　sat　beside　him。　It　was　a　small　room；　the　walls　almost　hidden　with　books；　the　windows　filled　with　flowering　plants。　There　was　a　long　table　piled　up　with　magazines　and　pamphlets；　and　an　open　fireplace；　the　wall　above　the　mantel　covered　with　framed　pictures　of　weeping…　willows　worked　out　with　hair　of　dead　relatives；　and　the　mantel　itself　with　faded　daguerreotypes　propped　apart　like　half…opened　clam…shells。

Mr。　Grant　on　leaving　the　dining…room　walked　slowly　to　the　window　without　looking　to　the　right　or　left；　dropped　into　a　chair　and　gazed　out　through　the　leaves　of　a　geranium。　The　meal　was　over。　Now　he　wanted　rest　and　quiet。　When　Mrs。　Grant　entered　the　library　and　saw　the　wavy　lines　of　tobacco…　smoke　that　were　drifting　lazily　about　the　room　she　stopped；　evidently　annoyed　and　uneasy。　No　such　sacrilege　of　her　library　had　taken　place　for　years；　not　since　her　Uncle　Reuben　had　come　home　from　China。　The　waves　of　smoke　must　have　caught　the　expression　on　her　face；　for　she　had　hardly　reached　Oliver's　chair　before　they　began　stealing　along　the　ceiling　in　long；　slanting　lines　until　they　reached　the　doorway；　when　with　a　sudden　swoop；　as　if　frightened；　　and　without　once　looking　back；　they　escaped　into　the　hall。

The　dear　lady　laid　her　hand　on　Oliver's　shoulder；　bent　over　him　in　a　tender；　motherly　way；　and　said：

〃Do　you　think　it　does　you　any　good？〃

〃I　don't　know　that　it　does。〃

〃Why　should　you　do　it；　then？〃

〃But　I　won't　if　you'd　rather　I'd　not。〃　Oliver　sprang　to　his　feet；　took　his　pipe　from　his　mouth；　and　was　about　to　cross　the　room　to　knock　the　ashes　from　it　into　the　fireplace　when　Margaret　laid　her　hand　on　his　arm。

〃No；　don't　stop。　Mother　is　very　foolish　about　some　thingssmoking　is　one　of　them。〃

〃But　I　can't　smoke；　darling；〃　he　said；　in　an　undertone；　　〃if　your　mother　objects。〃　The　mother　law　was　paramount；　to　say　nothing　of　the　courtesy　required　　of　him。　Then　he　added；　with　a　meaning　look　in　his　eyes〃Can't　we　get　away　some　place　where　we　can　talk？〃　Deaf　mothers　are　a　blessing　sometimes。

Margaret　pressed　his　handher　fingers　were　still　closed　over　the　one　holding　the　pipe。

〃In　a　moment；　Ollie；〃　and　she　rose　and　went　into　the　adjoining　room。

Mrs。　Grant　went　to　her　husband's　side；　and　in　her　gentle　mission　of　peace　put　her　arm　around　his　neck；　patting　his　shoulder　and　talking　to　him　in　a　low　tone；　her　two　yellow…white　curls　streaming　down　over　the　collar　of　his　coat。　Silas　slipped　his　hand　over　his　wife's　and　for　an　instant　caressed　it　tenderly　with　his　cold；　bony　fingers。　Then　seeing　Oliver's　eyes　turning　his　way　he　drew　in　his　shoulders　　with　a　quick　movement　and　looked　askance　at　his　guest。　Any　public　show　of　affection　was　against　Silas's　creed　and　code。　If　people　wanted　to　hug　each　other；　better　do　it　upstairs；　he　would　say；　not　where　everybody　was　looking　on；　certainly　not　this　young　man；　who　was　enough　of　a　mollycoddle　already。

John；　now　that　Margaret　had　gone；　moved　over　from　the　lounge　and　took　her　seat；　and　the　two　young　men　launched　out　into　a　discussion　of　flies　and　worms　and　fish…bait；　and　whether　frog's　legs　were　better　than　minnows　in　fishing　for　pickerel；　and　what　was　the　best…sized　shot　for　woodcock　and　Jack…snipe。　Oliver　told　of　the　ducking…blinds；　of　the　Chesapeake；　and　of　how　the　men　sat　in　wooden　boxes　sunk　to　the　water's　edge；　with　the　decoy　ducks　about　them；　and　shot　the　flocks　as　they　flew　over。　And　John　told　of　a　hunting　trip　he　had　made　with　two　East　Branch　guides；　and　how　they　went　loaded　for　deer　and　came　back　with　a　bear　and　two　cubs。　And　so　congenial　did　they　find　each　other's　society　that　before　Margaret　　returned　to　the　roomshe　had　gone　into　her　studio　to　light　the　lamp　under　the　tea…kettlethe　two　young　fellows　had　discovered　that　they　were　both　very　good　fellows　indeed；　especially　Oliver　and　　especially　John；　and　Oliver　had　half　promised　to　come　up　in　the　winter　and　go　into　camp　with　John；　and　John　met　him　more　than　half…way　with　a　promise　to　accept　Oliver's　invitation　for　a　week's　visit　in　　Kennedy　Square　the　next　time　he　went　home；　if　that　happy　event　ever　took　place；　when　they　would　both　go　down　to　Carroll's　Island　for　a　crack　at　a　canvas…　back。

This　had　gone　on　for　ten　minutes　or　moreten　minutes　is　an　absurdly　long　period　of　time　under　certain　circumstanceswhen　Margaret's　voice　was　heard　in　the　doorway：

〃Come；　John；　you　and　Mr。　Horn　have　talked　long　enough；　I　want　to　show　him　my　studio　if　you'll　spare　him　a　moment。〃

John　knew　when　to　spare　and　when　not　tooh；　a　very　intelligent　brother　was　John！　He　did　not　follow　and　talk　for　another　hour　of　what　a　good　time　he　would　have　duck…shooting；　and　of　what　togs　he　ought　to　carryspoiling　everything；　nor　did　he　send　his　mother　in　to　help　Margaret　entertain　their　guest。　None　of　these　stupid　things　did　John　do。　He　said　he　would　go　down　to　the　post…office　if　Oliver　didn't　mind；　and　would　see　him　at　supper；　and　Margaret　said　that　that　was　a　very　clever　idea；　as　nobody　had　gone　for　the　mail　that　day；　and　there　were　sure　to　be　letters；　and　not　to　forget　to　ask　for　hers。　Awfully　　sensible　brother　was　John。　Why　aren't　there　more　like　him？

Entering　Margaret's　studio　was　like　going　back　to　Moose　Hillock。　There　were　sketches　of　the　interior　of　the　school…house；　and　of　the　children；　and　of　the　teacher　who　had　taught　the　year　before。　There　was　Mrs。　Taft　sitting　on　that　very　porch；　peeling　potatoes；　with　a　tin　pan　in