The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第21部分

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Whilst　she　sat　in　taut　suspense；　the　laughter　rushed　back　at
her；　knowing　he　was　fumbling　in　his　pocket　to　shove　the　flower
away。

In　the　end；　she　felt　weak；　exhausted　and　thoroughly
depressed。　A　blankness　of　wincing　depression　came　over　her。　She
hated　the　presence　of　the　other　people。　Her　face　became　quite
haughty。　She　was　unaware　of　her　cousin　any　more。

When　the　collection　arrived　with　the　last　hymn；　her　cousin
was　again　singing　resoundingly。　And　still　it　amused　her。　In
spite　of　the　shameful　exhibition　she　had　made　of　herself；　it
amused　her　still。　She　listened　to　it　in　a　spell　of　amusement。
And　the　bag　was　thrust　in　front　of　her；　and　her　sixpence　was
mingled　in　the　folds　of　her　glove。　In　her　haste　to　get　it　out；
it　flipped　away　and　went　twinkling　in　the　next　pew。　She　stood
and　giggled。　She　could　not　help　it：　she　laughed　outright；　a
figure　of　shame。

〃What　were　you　laughing　about；　our　Anna？〃　asked　Fred；　the
moment　they　were　out　of　the　church。

〃Oh；　I　couldn't　help　it；〃　she　said；　in　her　careless；
half…mocking　fashion。　〃I　don't　know　why　Cousin　Will's
singing　set　me　off。〃

〃What　was　there　in　my　singing　to　make　you　laugh？〃　he
asked。

〃It　was　so　loud；〃　she　said。

They　did　not　look　at　each　other；　but　they　both　laughed　again；
both　reddening。

〃What　were　you　snorting　and　laughing　for；　our　Anna？〃　asked
Tom；　the　elder　brother；　at　the　dinner　table；　his　hazel　eyes
bright　with　joy。　〃Everybody　stopped　to　look　at　you。〃　Tom　was　in
the　choir。

She　was　aware　of　Will's　eyes　shining　steadily　upon　her；
waiting　for　her　to　speak。

〃It　was　Cousin　Will's　singing；〃　she　said。

At　which　her　cousin　burst　into　a　suppressed；　chuckling　laugh；
suddenly　showing　all　his　small；　regular；　rather　sharp　teeth；　and
just　as　quickly　closing　his　mouth　again。

〃Has　he　got　such　a　remarkable　voice　on　him　then？〃　asked
Brangwen。

〃No；　it's　not　that；〃　said　Anna。　〃Only　it　tickled　me……I
couldn't　tell　you　why。〃

And　again　a　ripple　of　laughter　went　down　the　table。

Will　Brangwen　thrust　forward　his　dark　face；　his　eyes　dancing；
and　said：

〃I'm　in　the　choir　of　St。　Nicholas。〃

〃Oh；　you　go　to　church　then！〃　said　Brangwen。

〃Mother　does……father　doesn't；〃　replied　the　youth。

It　was　the　little　things；　his　movement；　the　funny　tones　of
his　voice；　that　showed　up　big　to　Anna。　The　matter…of…fact　things
he　said　were　absurd　in　contrast。　The　things　her　father　said
seemed　meaningless　and　neutral。

During　the　afternoon　they　sat　in　the　parlour；　that　smelled　of
geranium；　and　they　ate　cherries；　and　talked。　Will　Brangwen　was
called　on　to　give　himself　forth。　And　soon　he　was　drawn　out。

He　was　interested　in　churches；　in　church　architecture。　The
influence　of　Ruskin　had　stimulated　him　to　a　pleasure　in　the
medieval　forms。　His　talk　was　fragmentary；　he　was　only　half
articulate。　But　listening　to　him；　as　he　spoke　of　church　after
church；　of　nave　and　chancel　and　transept；　of　rood…screen　and
font；　of　hatchet…carving　and　moulding　and　tracery；　speaking
always　with　close　passion　of　particular　things；　particular
places；　there　gathered　in　her　heart　a　pregnant　hush　of　churches；
a　mystery；　a　ponderous　significance　of　bowed　stone；　a
dim…coloured　light　through　which　something　took　place　obscurely；
passing　into　darkness：　a　high；　delighted　framework　of　the　mystic
screen；　and　beyond；　in　the　furthest　beyond；　the　altar。　It　was　a
very　real　experience。　She　was　carried　away。　And　the　land　seemed
to　be　covered　with　a　vast；　mystic　church；　reserved　in　gloom；
thrilled　with　an　unknown　Presence。

Almost　it　hurt　her；　to　look　out　of　the　window　and　see　the
lilacs　towering　in　the　vivid　sunshine。　Or　was　this　the　jewelled
glass？

He　talked　of　Gothic　and　Renaissance　and　Perpendicular；　and
Early　English　and　Norman。　The　words　thrilled　her。

〃Have　you　been　to　Southwell？〃　he　said。　〃I　was　there　at　twelve
o'clock　at　midday；　eating　my　lunch　in　the　churchyard。　And　the
bells　played　a　hymn。

〃Ay；　it's　a　fine　Minster；　Southwell；　heavy。　It's　got　heavy；
round　arches；　rather　low；　on　thick　pillars。　It's　grand；　the　way
those　arches　travel　forward。

〃There's　a　sedilia　as　well……pretty。　But　I　like　the　main
body　of　the　church……and　that　north　porch……〃

He　was　very　much　excited　and　filled　with　himself　that
afternoon。　A　flame　kindled　round　him；　making　his　experience
passionate　and　glowing；　burningly　real。

His　uncle　listened　with　twinkling　eyes；　half…moved。　His　aunt
bent　forward　her　dark　face；　half…moved；　but　held　by　other
knowledge。　Anna　went　with　him。

He　returned　to　his　lodging　at　night　treading　quick；　his　eyes
glittering；　and　his　face　shining　darkly　as　if　he　came　from　some
passionate；　vital　tryst。

The　glow　remained　in　him；　the　fire　burned；　his　heart　was
fierce　like　a　sun。　He　enjoyed　his　unknown　life　and　his　own　self。
And　he　was　ready　to　go　back　to　the　Marsh。

Without　knowing　it；　Anna　was　wanting　him　to　e。　In　him　she
had　escaped。　In　him　the　bounds　of　her　experience　were
transgressed：　he　was　the　hole　in　the　wall；　beyond　which　the
sunshine　blazed　on　an　outside　world。

He　came。　Sometimes；　not　often；　but　sometimes；　talking　again；
there　recurred　the　strange；　remote　reality　which　carried
everything　before　it。　Sometimes；　he　talked　of　his　father；　whom
he　hated　with　a　hatred　that　was　burningly　close　to　love；　of　his
mother；　whom　he　loved；　with　a　love　that　was　keenly　close　to
hatred；　or　to　revolt。　His　sentences　were　clumsy；　he　was　only
half　articulate。　But　he　had　the　wonderful　voice；　that　could　ring
its　vibration　through　the　girl's　soul；　transport　her　into　his
feeling。　Sometimes　his　voice　was　hot　and　declamatory；　sometimes
it　had　a　strange；　twanging；　almost　cat…like　sound；　sometimes　it
hesitated；　puzzled；　sometimes　there　was　the　break　of　a　little
laugh。　Anna　was　taken　by　him。　She　loved　the　running　flame　that
coursed　through　her　as　she　listened　to　him。　And　his　mother　and
his　father　became　to　her　two　separate　people　in　her　life。

For　some　weeks　the　youth　came　frequently；　and　was　received
gladly　by　them　all。　He　sat　amongst　them；　his　dark　face　glowing；
an　eagerness　and　a　touch　of　derisiveness　on　his　wide　mouth；
something　grinning　and　twisted；　his　eyes　always　shining　like　a
bird's；　utterly　without　depth。　There　was　no　getting　hold　of　the
fellow；　Brangwen　irritably　thought。　He　was　like　a　grinning　young
tom…cat；　that　came　when　he　thought　he　would；　and　without
cognizance　of　the　other　person。

At　first　the　youth　had　looked　towards　Tom　Brangwen　when　he
talked；　and　then　he　looked　towards　his　aunt；　for　her
appreciation；　valuing　it　more　than　his　uncle's；　and　then　he
turned　to　Anna；　because　from　her　he　got　what　he　wanted；　which
was　not　in　the　elder　people。

So　that　the　two　young　people；　from　being　always　attendant　on
the　elder；　began　to　draw　apart　and　establish　a　separate　kingdom。
Sometimes　Tom　Brangwen　was　irritated。　His　nephew　irritated　him。
The　lad　seemed　to　him　too　special；　self…contained。　His　nature
was　fierce　enough；　but　too　much　abstracted；　like　a　separate
thing；　like　a　cat's　nature。　A　cat　could　lie　perfectly　peacefully
on　the　hearthrug　whilst　its　master　or　mistress　writhed　in　agony
a　yard　away。　It　had　nothing　to　do　with　other　people's　affairs。
What　did　the　lad　really　care　about　anything；　save　his　own
instinctive　affairs？

Brangwen　was　irritated。　Nevertheless　he　liked　and　respected
his　nephew。　Mrs。　Brangwen　was　irritated　by　Anna；　who　was
suddenly　changed；　under　the　influence　of　the　youth。　The　mother
liked　the　boy：　he　was　not　quite　an　outsider。　But　she　did　not
like　her　daughter　to　be　so　much　under　the　spell。

So　that　gradually　the　two　young　people　drew　apart；　escaped
from　the　elders；　to　create　a　new　thing　by　themselves。　He　worked
in　the　garden　to　propitiate　his　uncle。　He　talked　churches　to
propitiate　his　aunt。　He　followed　Anna　like　a　shadow：　like　a
long；　persistent；　unswerving　black　shadow　he　went　after　the
girl。　It　irritated　Brangwen　exceedingly。　It　exasperated　him
beyond　bearing；　to　see　the　lit…up　grin；　the　cat…grin　as　he
called　it；　on　his　nephew's　face。

And　Anna　had　a　new　reserve；　a　new　independence。　Suddenly　she
began　to　act　independently　of　her　parents；　to　live　beyond　them。
Her　mother　had　flashes　of　anger。

But　the　courtship　went　on。　Anna　would　find　occasion　to　go
shopping　in　Ilkeston　at　evening。　She　always　returned　with　her
cousin；　he　walking　with　his　head　over　her　shoulder；　a　little　bit
behind　her；　like　the　Devil　looking　over　Lincoln；　as　Brangwen
noted　angrily　and　yet　with　satisfaction。

To　his　own　wonder；　Will　Brangwen　found　himself　in　an　electric
state　of　passion。　To　his　wonder；　he　had　stopped　her　at　the　gate
as　they　came　home　from　Ilkeston　one　night；　and　had　kissed　her；
blocking　her　way　and　kissing　her　whilst　he　felt　as　if　some　blow
were　struck　at　him　in　the　dark。　And　when　they　went　indoors；　he
was　acutely　angry　that　her　parents　looked　up　scrutinizing　at　him
and　her。　What　right　had　they　there：　why　should　they　look　up！　Let
them　remove　themselves；　or　look　elsewhere。

And　the　youth　went　home　with　the　stars　in　heaven　whirling
fiercely　about　the　blackness　of　his　head；　and　his　heart　fierce；
insistent；　but　fierce　as　if　he　felt　something　baulking　him。　He
wanted　to　smash　through　something。

A　spell　was　cast　over　her。　And　how　uneasy　her　parents　were；
as　she　went　about　the　house　unnoticing；　not　noticing　them；
moving　in　a　spell　as　if　she　were　invisible　to　them。　She　was
invisible　to　them。　It　made　them　angry。　Yet　they　had　to　submit。
She　went　about　absorbed；　obscured　for　a　while。

Over　him　too　the　darkness　of　obscurity　settled。　He　seemed　to
be　hidden　in　a　tense；　electric　darkness；　in　which　his　soul；　his
life　was　intensely　active；　but　without　his　aid　or　attention。　His
mind　was　obscured。　He　worked　swiftly　and　mechanically；　and　he
produced　some　beautiful　things。

His　favourite　work　was　wood…carving。　The　first　thing　he　made
for　her　was　a　butter…stamper。　In　it　he　carved　a　mythological
bird；　a　phoenix；　something　like　an　eagle；　rising　on　symmetrical
wings；　from　a　circle　of　very　beautiful　flickering　flames　that
rose　upwards　from　the　rim　of　the　cup。

Anna　thought　nothing　of　the　gift　on　the　evening　when　he　gave
it　to　her。　In　the　morning；　however；　when　the　butter　was　made；
she　fetched　his　seal　in　place　of　the　old　wooden　stamper　of
oak…leaves　and　acorns。　She　was　curiously　excited　to　see　how　it
would　turn　out。　Strange；　the　uncouth　bird　moulded　there；　in　the
cup…like　hollow；　with　curious；　thick　waverings　running　inwards
from　a　smooth　rim。　She　pressed　another　mould。　Strange；　to　lift
the　stamp　and　see　that　eagle…beaked　bird　raising　its　breast　to
her。　She　loved　creating　it　over　and　over　again。　And　every　time
she　looked；　it　seemed　a　new　thing　e　to　life。　Every　piece　of
butter　became　this　strange；　vital　emblem。

She　showed　it　to　her　mother　and　father。

〃That　is　beautiful；〃　said　her　mother；　a　little　light　ing
on　to　her　face。

〃Beautiful！〃　exclaimed　the　father；　puzzled；　fretted。　〃Why；
what　sort　of　a　bird　does　he　call　it？〃

And　this　was　the　question　put　by　the　customers　during　the
next　weeks。

〃What　sort　of　a　bird　do　you　call　that；　as　you've　got
on　th'　butter？〃

When　he　came　in　the　evening；　she　took　him　into　the　dairy　to
show　him。

〃Do　you　like　it？〃　he　asked；　in　his　loud；　vibrating　voice　that
always　sounded　strange；　re…echoing　in　the　dark　places　of　her
being。

They　very　r