the mansion- 第4部分

tell。　　

He　found　great　difficulty　in　catching　the　thread　of　his　identity

again。　　

He　felt　that　he　was　himself；　but　the　trouble　was　to　make　his

connections；　

to　verify　and　place　himself；　to　know　who　and　where　he　was。



At　last　it　grew　clear。　　John　Weightman　was　sitting　on　a　stone；　

not　far　from　a　road　in　a　strange　land。



The　road　was　not　a　formal　highway；　fenced　and　graded。　　It　was

more　like　

a　great　travel…trace；　worn　by　thousands　of　feet　passing　across　

the　open　country　in　the　same　direction。　　Down　in　the　valley；　

into　which　he　could　look；　the　road　seemed　to　form　itself

gradually　out　of　

many　minor　paths；　little　footways　coming　across　the　meadows；　

winding　tracks　following　along　beside　the　streams；　faintly　marked

trails

emerging　from　the　woodlands。　　But　on　the　hillside　the　threads

were　more

firmly　woven　into　one　clear　band　of　travel；　though　there　were

still　

a　few　dim　paths　joining　it　here　and　there；　as　if　persons　had　been



climbing　up　the　hill　by　other　ways　and　had　turned　at　last　to　seek

the　road。



From　the　edge　of　the　hill；　where　John　Weightman　sat；　he　could　see



the　travelers；　in　little　groups　or　larger　companies；　gathering

from　

time　to　time　by　the　different　paths；　and　making　the　ascent。　　

They　were　all　clothed　in　white；　and　the　form　of　their　garments

was　

strange　to　him；　it　was　like　some　old　picture。　　They　passed　him；　

group　after　group；　talking　quietly　together　or　singing；　not

moving　

in　haste；　but　with　a　certain　air　of　eagerness　and　joy　as　if　they

were　

glad　to　be　on　their　way　to　an　appointed　place。　　They　did　not　stay

to　

speak　to　him；　but　they　looked　at　him　often　and　spoke　to　one

another　

as　they　looked；　and　now　and　then　one　of　them　would　smile　and　

beckon　him　a　friendly　greeting；　so　that　he　felt　they　would　like

him　

to　be　with　them。



There　was　quite　an　interval　between　the　groups；　and　he　followed　

each　of　them　with　his　eyes　after　it　had　passed；　blanching　the　

long　ribbon　of　the　road　for　a　little　transient　space；　rising　and

receding

across　the　wide；　billowy　upland；　among　the　rounded　hillocks　of　

aerial　green　and　gold　and　lilac；　until　it　came　to　the　high

horizon；　

and　stood　outlined　for　a　moment；　a　tiny　cloud　of　whiteness

against　

the　tender　blue；　before　it　vanished　over　the　hill。



For　a　long　time　he　sat　there　watching　and　wondering。　　It　was　

a　very　different　world　from　that　in　which　his　mansion　on　the

Avenue　

was　built；　and　it　looked　strange　to　him；　but　most　realas　real

as　

anything　he　had　ever　seen。　　Presently　he　felt　a　strong　desire　

to　know　what　country　it　was　and　where　the　people　were　going。　　

He　had　a　faint　premonition　of　what　it　must　be；　but　he　wished　to

be　sure。　　

So　he　rose　from　the　stone　where　he　was　sitting；　and　came　down

through　

the　short　grass　and　the　lavender　flowers；　toward　a　passing　group

of　people。

One　of　them　turned　to　meet　him；　and　held　out　his　hand。　　It　was　an

old　man；

under　whose　white　beard　and　brows　John　Weightman　thought　he　saw　

a　suggestion　of　the　face　of　the　village　doctor　who　had　cared　for

him　

years　ago；　when　he　was　a　boy　in　the　country。



〃Welcome；〃　said　the　old　man。　　〃Will　you　come　with　us？〃



〃Where　are　you　going？〃



〃To　the　heavenly　city；　to　see　our　mansions　there。〃



〃And　who　are　these　with　you？〃



〃Strangers　to　me；　until　a　little　while　ago；　I　know　them　better

now。　　

But　you　I　have　known　for　a　long　time；　John　Weightman。　　Don't　you

remember

your　old　doctor？〃



〃Yes；〃　he　cried〃yes；　your　voice　has　not　changed　at　all。　　

I'm　glad　indeed　to　see　you；　Doctor　McLean；　especially　now。　　

All　this　seems　very　strange　to　me；　almost　oppressive。　　

I　wonder　ifbut　may　I　go　with　you；　do　you　suppose？〃



〃Surely；〃　answered　the　doctor；　with　his　familiar　smile；　〃it　will　

do　you　good。　　And　you　also　must　have　a　mansion　in　the　city

waiting　

for　youa　fine　one；　tooare　you　not　looking　forward　to　it？〃



〃Yes；〃　replied　the　other；　hesitating　a　moment；　〃yesI　believe　

it　must　be　so；　although　I　had　not　expected　to　see　it　so　soon。　　

But　I　will　go　with　you；　and　we　can　talk　by　the　way。〃



The　two　men　quickly　caught　up　with　the　other　people；　and　all　went

forward

together　along　the　road。　　The　doctor　had　little　to　tell　of　his

experience；

for　it　had　been　a　plain；　hard　life；　uneventfully　spent　for

others；　

and　the　story　of　the　village　was　very　simple。　　John　Weightman's

adventures

and　triumphs　would　have　made　a　far　richer；　more　imposing　history；



full　of　contacts　with　the　great　events　and　personages　of　the

time。　　

But　somehow　or　other　he　did　not　care　to　speak　much　about　it；　

walking　on　that　wide　heavenly　moorland；　under　that　tranquil；　

sunless　arch　of　blue；　in　that　free　air　of　perfect　peace；　where

the　light

was　diffused　without　a　shadow；　as　if　the　spirit　of　life　in　all

things　

were　luminous。



There　was　only　one　person　besides　the　doctor　in　that　little

company　whom

John　Weightman　had　known　beforean　old　bookkeeper　who　had　spent

his　life

over　a　desk；　carefully　keeping　accountsa　rusty；　dull　little

man；　

patient　and　narrow；　whose　wife　had　been　in　the　insane　asylum　for　

twenty　years　and　whose　only　child　was　a　crippled　daughter；　for

whose

comfort　and　happiness　he　had　toiled　and　sacrificed　himself

without　stint。　

It　was　a　surprise　to　find　him　here；　as　care…free　and　joyful　as

the　rest。



The　lives　of　others　in　the　company　were　revealed　in　brief

glimpses　

as　they　talked　togethera　mother；　early　widowed；　who　had　kept　

her　little　flock　of　children　together　and　labored　through　hard

and　heavy

years　to　bring　them　up　in　purity　and　knowledgea　Sister　of

Charity　

who　had　devoted　herself　to　the　nursing　of　poor　folk　who　were

being　

eaten　to　death　by　cancera　schoolmaster　whose　heart　and　life　

had　been　poured　into　his　quiet　work　of　training　boys　for　a　clean

and　

thoughtful　manhooda　medical　missionary　who　had　given　up　

a　brilliant　career　in　science　to　take　the　charge　of　a　hospital　in



darkest　Africaa　beautiful　woman　with　silver　hair　who　had　

resigned　her　dreams　of　love　and　marriage　to　care　for　an　invalid

father；　

and　after　his　death　had　made　her　life　a　long；　steady　search　for

ways　of

doing　kindnesses　to　othersa　poet　who　had　walked　among　the

crowded

tenements　of　the　great　city；　bringing　cheer　and　comfort　not　only

by　

his　songs；　but　by　his　wise　and　patient　works　of　practical　aida

paralyzed

woman　who　had　lain　for　thirty　years　upon　her　bed；　helpless　but　

not　hopeless；　succeeding　by　a　miracle　of　courage　in　her　single

aim；　

never　to　complain；　but　always　to　impart　a　bit　of　joy　and　peace　to



every　one　who　came　near　her。　　All　these；　and　other　persons　like

them；

people　of　little　consideration　in　the　world；　but　now　seemingly

all　full　of

great　contentment　and　an　inward　gladness　that　made　their　steps

light；　

were　in　the　company　that　passed　along　the　road；　talking　together

of　

things　past　and　things　to　come；　and　singing　now　and　then　with　

clear　voices　from　which　the　veil　of　age　and　sorrow　was　lifted。



John　Weightman　joined　in　some　of　the　songswhich　were　familiar

to　him　

from　their　use　in　the　churchat　first　with　a　touch　of

hesitation；　

and　then　more　confidently。　　For　as　they　went　on　his　sense　of　

strangeness　and　fear　at　his　new　experience　diminished；　and　his

thoughts

began　to　take　on　their　habitual　assurance　and　complacency。　　Were

not　these

people　going　to　the　Celestial　City？　　And　was　not　he　in　his　right

place

among　them？　　He　had　always　looked　forward　to　this　journey。　　

If　they　were　sure；　each　one；　of　finding　a　mansion　there；　could

not　he　be

far　more　sure？　　His　life　had　been　more　fruitful　than　theirs。　　

He　had　been　a　leader；　a　founder　of　new　enterprises；　a　pillar　of　

Church　and　State；　a　prince　of　the　House　of　Israel。　　Ten　talents

had　been

given　him；　and　he　had　made　them　twenty。　　His　reward　would　be

proportionate。

He　was　glad　that　his　companions　were　going　to　find　fit　dwellings　

prepared　for　them；　but　he　thought　also　with　a　certain　pleasure　of



the　surprise　that　some　of　them　would　feel　when　they　saw　

his　appointed　mansion。



So　they　came　to　the　summit　of　the　moorland　and　looked　over　into　

the　world　beyond。　　It　was　a　vast；　green　plain；　softly　rounded

like　

a　shallow　vase；　and　circled　with　hills　of　amethyst。　　A　broad；　

shining　river　flowed　through　it；　and　many　silver　threads　of　water



were　woven　across　the　green；　and　there　were　borders　of　tall　trees



on　the　banks　of　the　river；　and　orchards　full　of　roses　abloom

along　

the　little　streams；　and　in　the　midst　of　all　stood　the　city；　

white　and　wonderful　and　radiant。



When　the　travelers　saw　it　they　were　filled　with　awe　and　joy。　　

They　passed　over　the　little　streams　and　among　the　orchards　

quickly　and　silently；　as　if　they　feared　to　speak　lest　the　city　

should　vanish。



The　wall　of　the　city　was　very　low；　a　child　could　see　over　it；　

for　it　was　made　only　of　precious　stones；　which　are　never　large。　　

The　gate　of　the　city　was　not　like　a　gate　a　all；　for　it　was　not　

barred　with　iron　or　wood；　but　only　a　single　pearl；　softly

gleaming；　

marked　the　place　where　the　wall　ended　and　the　entrance　lay　open。



A　person　stood　there　whose　face　was　bright　and　grave；　and　whose

robe　

was　like　the　flower　of　the　lily；　not　a　woven　fabric；　but　a　living

texture。　

〃Come　in；〃　he　said　to　the　company　of　travelers；　〃you　are　at　

your　journey's　end；　and　your　mansions　are　ready　for　you。〃



John　Weightman　hesitated；　for　he　was　troubled　by　a　doubt。　　

Suppose　that　he　was　not　really；　like　his　companions；　at　his

journey's　end；

but　only　transported　for　a　little　while　out　of　the　regular　course

of　

his　life　into　this　mysterious　experience？　　Suppose　that；　after

all；　

he　had　not　really　passed　through　the　door　of　death；　like　these

others；　

but　only　through　the　door　of　dreams；　and　was　walking　in　a　vision；



a　living　man　among　the　blessed　dead。　　Would　it　be　right　f