the jacket (the star-rover)- 第15部分

space　that　I　was　experiencing。　　Many　days　afterwards　I　asked　Morrell

what　he　had　tried　to　convey　to　me。　　It　was　a　simple　message；　namely：

〃Standing；　are　you　there？〃　　He　had　tapped　it　rapidly；　while　the

guard　was　at　the　far　end　of　the　corridor　into　which　the　solitary

cells　opened。　　As　I　say；　he　had　tapped　the　message　very　rapidly。

And　now　behold！　　Between　the　first　tap　and　the　second　I　was　off　and

away　among　the　stars；　clad　in　fleecy　garments；　touching　each　star　as

I　passed　in　my　pursuit　of　the　formulae　that　would　explain　the　last

mystery　of　life。　　And；　as　before；　I　pursued　the　quest　for　centuries。

Then　came　the　summons；　the　stamp　of　the　hoof　of　doom；　the　exquisite

disruptive　agony；　and　again　I　was　back　in　my　cell　in　San　Quentin。

It　was　the　second　tap　of　Ed　Morrell's　knuckle。　　The　interval　between

it　and　the　first　tap　could　have　been　no　more　than　a　fifth　of　a

second。　　And　yet；　so　unthinkably　enormous　was　the　extension　of　time

to　me；　that　in　the　course　of　that　fifth　of　a　second　I　had　been　away

star…roving　for　long　ages。



Now　I　know；　my　reader；　that　the　foregoing　seems　all　a　farrago。　　I

agree　with　you。　　It　is　farrago。　　It　was　experience；　however。　　It　was

just　as　real　to　me　as　is　the　snake　beheld　by　a　man　in　delirium

tremens。



Possibly；　by　the　most　liberal　estimate；　it　may　have　taken　Ed　Morrell

two　minutes　to　tap　his　question。　　Yet；　to　me；　aeons　elapsed　between

the　first　tap　of　his　knuckle　and　the　last。　　No　longer　could　I　tread

my　starry　path　with　that　ineffable　pristine　joy；　for　my　way　was

beset　with　dread　of　the　inevitable　summons　that　would　rip　and　tear

me　as　it　jerked　me　back　to　my　straitjacket　hell。　　Thus　my　aeons　of

star…wandering　were　aeons　of　dread。



And　all　the　time　I　knew　it　was　Ed　Morrell's　knuckle　that　thus

cruelly　held　me　earth…bound。　　I　tried　to　speak　to　him；　to　ask　him　to

cease。　　But　so　thoroughly　had　I　eliminated　my　body　from　my

consciousness　that　I　was　unable　to　resurrect　it。　　My　body　lay　dead

in　the　jacket；　though　I　still　inhabited　the　skull。　　In　vain　I　strove

to　will　my　foot　to　tap　my　message　to　Morrell。　　I　reasoned　I　had　a

foot。　　And　yet；　so　thoroughly　had　I　carried　out　the　experiment；　I

had　no　foot。



Nextand　I　know　now　that　it　was　because　Morrell　had　spelled　his

message　quite　outI　pursued　my　way　among　the　stars　and　was　not

called　back。　　After　that；　and　in　the　course　of　it；　I　was　aware；

drowsily；　that　I　was　falling　asleep；　and　that　it　was　delicious

sleep。　　From　time　to　time；　drowsily；　I　stirredplease；　my　reader；

don't　miss　that　verbI　STIRRED。　　I　moved　my　legs；　my　arms。　　I　was

aware　of　clean；　soft　bed　linen　against　my　skin。　　I　was　aware　of

bodily　well…being。　　Oh；　it　was　delicious！　　As　thirsting　men　on　the

desert　dream　of　splashing　fountains　and　flowing　wells；　so　dreamed　I

of　easement　from　the　constriction　of　the　jacket；　of　cleanliness　in

the　place　of　filth；　of　smooth　velvety　skin　of　health　in　place　of　my

poor　parchment…crinkled　hide。　　But　I　dreamed　with　a　difference；　as

you　shall　see。



I　awoke。　　Oh；　broad　and　wide　awake　I　was；　although　I　did　not　open　my

eyes。　　And　please　know　that　in　all　that　follows　I　knew　no　surprise

whatever。　　Everything　was　the　natural　and　the　expected。　　I　was　I；　be

sure　of　that。　　BUT　I　WAS　NOT　DARRELL　STANDING。　　Darrell　Standing　had

no　more　to　do　with　the　being　I　was　than　did　Darrell　Standing's

parchment…crinkled　skin　have　aught　to　do　with　the　cool；　soft　skin

that　was　mine。　　Nor　was　I　aware　of　any　Darrell　Standingas　I　could

not　well　be；　considering　that　Darrell　Standing　was　as　yet　unborn　and

would　not　be　born　for　centuries。　　But　you　shall　see。



I　lay　with　closed　eyes；　lazily　listening。　　From　without　came　the

clacking　of　many　hoofs　moving　orderly　on　stone　flags。　　From　the

accompanying　jingle　of　metal　bits　of　man…harness　and　steed…harness　I

knew　some　cavalcade　was　passing　by　on　the　street　beneath　my　windows。

Also；　I　wondered　idly　who　it　was。　　From　somewhereand　I　knew　where；

for　I　knew　it　was　from　the　inn　yardcame　the　ring　and　stamp　of

hoofs　and　an　impatient　neigh　that　I　recognized　as　belonging　to　my

waiting　horse。



Came　steps　and　movementssteps　openly　advertised　as　suppressed　with

the　intent　of　silence　and　that　yet　were　deliberately　noisy　with　the

secret　intent　of　rousing　me　if　I　still　slept。　　I　smiled　inwardly　at

the　rascal's　trick。



〃Pons；〃　I　ordered；　without　opening　my　eyes；　〃water；　cold　water；

quick；　a　deluge。　　I　drank　over　long　last　night；　and　now　my　gullet

scorches。〃



〃And　slept　over　long　to…day；〃　he　scolded；　as　he　passed　me　the　water；

ready　in　his　hand。



I　sat　up；　opened　my　eyes；　and　carried　the　tankard　to　my　lips　with

both　my　hands。　　And　as　I　drank　I　looked　at　Pons。



Now　note　two　things。　　I　spoke　in　French；　I　was　not　conscious　that　I

spoke　in　French。　　Not　until　afterward；　back　in　solitary；　when　I

remembered　what　I　am　narrating；　did　I　know　that　I　had　spoken　in

Frenchay；　and　spoken　well。　　As　for　me；　Darrell　Standing；　at

present　writing　these　lines　in　Murderers'　Row　of　Folsom　Prison；　why；

I　know　only　high　school　French　sufficient　to　enable　me　to　read　the

language。　　As　for　my　speaking　itimpossible。　　I　can　scarcely

intelligibly　pronounce　my　way　through　a　menu。



But　to　return。　　Pons　was　a　little　withered　old　man。　　He　was　born　in

our　houseI　know；　for　it　chanced　that　mention　was　made　of　it　this

very　day　I　am　describing。　　Pons　was　all　of　sixty　years。　　He　was

mostly　toothless；　and；　despite　a　pronounced　limp　that　compelled　him

to　go　slippity…hop；　he　was　very　alert　and　spry　in　all　his　movements。

Also；　he　was　impudently　familiar。　　This　was　because　he　had　been　in

my　house　sixty　years。　　He　had　been　my　father's　servant　before　I

could　toddle；　and　after　my　father's　death　（Pons　and　I　talked　of　it

this　day）　he　became　my　servant。　　The　limp　he　had　acquired　on　a

stricken　field　in　Italy；　when　the　horsemen　charged　across。　　He　had

just　dragged　my　father　clear　of　the　hoofs　when　he　was　lanced　through

the　thigh；　overthrown；　and　trampled。　　My　father；　conscious　but

helpless　from　his　own　wounds；　witnessed　it　all。　　And　so；　as　I　say；

Pons　had　earned　such　a　right　to　impudent　familiarity　that　at　least

there　was　no　gainsaying　him　by　my　father's　son。



Pons　shook　his　head　as　I　drained　the　huge　draught。



〃Did　you　hear　it　boil？〃　I　laughed；　as　I　handed　back　the　empty

tankard。



〃Like　your　father；〃　he　said　hopelessly。　　〃But　your　father　lived　to

learn　better；　which　I　doubt　you　will　do。〃



〃He　got　a　stomach　affliction；〃　I　devilled；　〃so　that　one　mouthful　of

spirits　turned　it　outside　in。　　It　were　wisdom　not　to　drink　when

one's　tank　will　not　hold　the　drink。〃



While　we　talked　Pons　was　gathering　to　my　bedside　my　clothes　for　the

day。



〃Drink　on；　my　master；〃　he　answered。　　〃It　won't　hurt　you。　　You'll　die

with　a　sound　stomach。〃



〃You　mean　mine　is　an　iron…lined　stomach？〃　I　wilfully　misunderstood

him。



〃I　mean〃　he　began　with　a　quick　peevishness；　then　broke　off　as　he

realized　my　teasing　and　with　a　pout　of　his　withered　lips　draped　my

new　sable　cloak　upon　a　chair…back。　　〃Eight　hundred　ducats；〃　he

sneered。　　〃A　thousand　goats　and　a　hundred　fat　oxen　in　a　coat　to　keep

you　warm。　　A　score　of　farms　on　my　gentleman's　fine　back。〃



〃And　in　that　a　hundred　fine　farms；　with　a　castle　or　two　thrown　in；

to　say　nothing；　perhaps；　of　a　palace；〃　I　said；　reaching　out　my　hand

and　touching　the　rapier　which　he　was　just　in　the　act　of　depositing

on　the　chair。



〃So　your　father　won　with　his　good　right　arm；〃　Pons　retorted。　　〃But

what　your　father　won　he　held。〃



Here　Pons　paused　to　hold　up　to　scorn　my　new　scarlet　satin　doubleta

wondrous　thing　of　which　I　had　been　extravagant。



〃Sixty　ducats　for　that；〃　Pons　indicted。　　〃Your　father'd　have　seen

all　the　tailors　and　Jews　of　Christendom　roasting　in　hell　before　he'd

a…paid　such　a　price。〃



And　while　we　dressedthat　is；　while　Pons　helped　me　to　dressI

continued　to　quip　with　him。



〃It　is　quite　clear；　Pons；　that　you　have　not　heard　the　news；〃　I　said

slyly。



Whereat　up　pricked　his　ears　like　the　old　gossip　he　was。



〃Late　news？〃　he　queried。　　〃Mayhap　from　the　English　Court？〃



〃Nay；〃　I　shook　my　head。　　〃But　news　perhaps　to　you；　but　old　news　for

all　of　that。　　Have　you　not　heard？　　The　philosophers　of　Greece　were

whispering　it　nigh　two　thousand　years　ago。　　It　is　because　of　that

news　that　I　put　twenty　fat　farms　on　my　back；　live　at　Court；　and　am

become　a　dandy。　　You　see；　Pons；　the　world　is　a　most　evil　place；　life

is　most　sad；　all　men　die；　and；　being　dead　。　。　。　well；　are　dead。

Wherefore；　to　escape　the　evil　and　the　sadness；　men　in　these　days；

like　me；　seek　amazement；　insensibility；　and　the　madnesses　of

dalliance。〃



〃But　the　news；　master？　　What　did　the　philosophers　whisper　about　so

long　ago？〃



〃That　God　was　dead；　Pons；〃　I　replied　solemnly。　　〃Didn't　you　know

that？　　God　is　dead；　and　I　soon　shall　be；　and　I　wear　twenty　fat　farms

on　my　back。〃



〃God　lives；〃　Pons　asserted　fervently。　　〃God　lives；　and　his　kingdom

is　at　hand。　　I　tell　you；　master；　it　is　at　hand。　　It　may　be　no　later

than　to…morrow　that　the　earth　shall　pass　away。〃



〃So　said　they　in　old　Rome；　Pons；　when　Nero　made　torches　of　them　to

light　his　sports。〃



Pons　regarded　me　pityingly。



〃Too　much　learning　is　a　sickness；〃　he　complained。　　〃I　was　always

opposed　to　it。　　But　you　must　have　your　will　and　drag　my　old　body

about　with　youa…studying　astronomy　and　numbers　in　Venice；　poetry

and　all　the　Italian　FOL…DE…ROLS　in　Florence；　and　astrology　in　Pisa；

and　God　knows　what　in　that　madman　country　of　Germany。　　Pish　for　the

philosophers！　　I　tell　you；　master；　I；　Pons；　your　servant；　a　poor　old

man　who　knows　not　a　letter　from　a　pike…staffI　tell　you　God　lives；

and　the　time　you　shall　appear　before　him　is　short。〃　　He　paused　with

sudden　recollection；　and　added：　　〃He　is　here；　the　priest　you　spoke

of。〃



On　the　instant　I　remembered　my　engagement。



〃Why　did　you　not　tell　me　before？〃　I　demanded　angrily。



〃What　did　it　matter？〃　Pons　shrugged　his