The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第5部分

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he　knew　that　the　idea　of　a　life　among　such　people　as　the
foreigner　was　ridiculous。

Yet　he　dreamed　of　it；　and　stuck　to　his　dreams；　and　would　not
have　the　reality　of　Cossethay　and　Ilkeston。　There　he　sat
stubbornly　in　his　corner　at　the　〃Red　Lion〃；　smoking　and　musing
and　occasionally　lifting　his　beer…pot；　and　saying　nothing；　for
all　the　world　like　a　gorping　farm…labourer；　as　he　said
himself。

Then　a　fever　of　restless　anger　came　upon　him。　He　wanted　to　go
away……right　away。　He　dreamed　of　foreign　parts。　But　somehow
he　had　no　contact　with　them。　And　it　was　a　very　strong　root　which
held　him　to　the　Marsh；　to　his　own　house　and　land。

Then　Effie　got　married；　and　he　was　left　in　the　house　with
only　Tilly；　the　cross…eyed　woman…servant　who　had　been　with　them
for　fifteen　years。　He　felt　things　ing　to　a　close。　All　the
time；　he　had　held　himself　stubbornly　resistant　to　the　action　of
the　monplace　unreality　which　wanted　to　absorb　him。　But　now　he
had　to　do　something。

He　was　by　nature　temperate。　Being　sensitive　and　emotional；
his　nausea　prevented　him　from　drinking　too　much。

But；　in　futile　anger；　with　the　greatest　of　determination　and
apparent　good　humour；　he　began　to　drink　in　order　to　get　drunk。
〃Damn　it；〃　he　said　to　himself；　〃you　must　have　it　one　road　or
another……you　can't　hitch　your　horse　to　the　shadow　of　a
gate…post……if　you've　got　legs　you've　got　to　rise　off　your
backside　some　time　or　other。〃

So　he　rose　and　went　down　to　Ilkeston；　rather　awkwardly　took
his　place　among　a　gang　of　young　bloods；　stood　drinks　to　the
pany；　and　discovered　he　could　carry　it　off　quite　well。　He　had
an　idea　that　everybody　in　the　room　was　a　man　after　his　own
heart；　that　everything　was　glorious；　everything　was　perfect。
When　somebody　in　alarm　told　him　his　coat　pocket　was　on　fire；　he
could　only　beam　from　a　red；　blissful　face　and　say
〃Iss…all…ri…ight……iss…al'…ri…ight……it's　a'
right……let　it　be；　let　it　be〃　and　he　laughed
with　pleasure；　and　was　rather　indignant　that　the　others　should
think　it　unnatural　for　his　coat　pocket　to　burn：……it　was　the
happiest　and　most　natural　thing　in　the　world……what？

He　went　home　talking　to　himself　and　to　the　moon；　that　was
very　high　and　small；　stumbling　at　the　flashes　of　moonlight　from
the　puddles　at　his　feet；　wondering　What　the　Hanover！　then
laughing　confidently　to　the　moon；　assuring　her　this　was　first
class；　this　was。

In　the　morning　he　woke　up　and　thought　about　it；　and　for　the
first　time　in　his　life；　knew　what　it　was　to　feel　really　acutely
irritable；　in　a　misery　of　real　bad　temper。　After　bawling　and
snarling　at　Tilly；　he　took　himself　off　for　very　shame；　to　be
alone。　And　looking　at　the　ashen　fields　and　the　putty　roads；　he
wondered　what　in　the　name　of　Hell　he　could　do　to　get　out　of　this
prickly　sense　of　disgust　and　physical　repulsion。　And　he　knew
that　this　was　the　result　of　his　glorious　evening。

And　his　stomach　did　not　want　any　more　brandy。　He　went
doggedly　across　the　fields　with　his　terrier；　and　looked　at
everything　with　a　jaundiced　eye。

The　next　evening　found　him　back　again　in　his　place　at　the
〃Red　Lion〃；　moderate　and　decent。　There　he　sat　and　stubbornly
waited　for　what　would　happen　next。

Did　he；　or　did　he　not　believe　that　he　belonged　to　this　world
of　Cossethay　and　Ilkeston？　There　was　nothing　in　it　he　wanted。
Yet　could　he　ever　get　out　of　it？　Was　there　anything　in　himself
that　would　carry　him　out　of　it？　Or　was　he　a　dunderheaded　baby；
not　man　enough　to　be　like　the　other　young　fellows　who　drank　a
good　deal　and　wenched　a　little　without　any　question；　and　were
satisfied。

He　went　on　stubbornly　for　a　time。　Then　the　strain　became　too
great　for　him。　A　hot；　accumulated　consciousness　was　always　awake
in　his　chest；　his　wrists　felt　sind
became　full　of　lustful　images；　his　eyes　seemed　blood…flushed。　He
fought　with　himself　furiously；　to　remain　normal。　He　did　not　seek
any　woman。　He　just　went　on　as　if　he　were　normal。　Till　he　must
either　take　some　action　or　beat　his　head　against　the　wall。

Then　he　went　deliberately　to　Ilkeston；　in　silence；　intent　and
beaten。　He　drank　to　get　drunk。　He　gulped　down　the　brandy；　and
more　brandy；　till　his　face　became　pale；　his　eyes　burning。　And
still　he　could　not　get　free。　He　went　to　sleep　in　drunken
unconsciousness；　woke　up　at　four　o'clock　in　the　morning　and
continued　drinking。　He　would　get　free。　Gradually　the
tension　in　him　began　to　relax。　He　began　to　feel　happy。　His
riveted　silence　was　unfastened；　he　began　to　talk　and　babble。　He
was　happy　and　at　one　with　all　the　world；　he　was　united　with　all
flesh　in　a　hot　blood…relationship。　So；　after　three　days　of
incessant　brandy…drinking；　he　had　burned　out　the　youth　from　his
blood；　he　had　achieved　this　kindled　state　of　oneness　with　all
the　world；　which　is　the　end　of　youth's　most　passionate　desire。
But　he　had　achieved　his　satisfaction　by　obliterating　his　own
individuality；　that　which　it　depended　on　his　manhood　to　preserve
and　develop。

So　he　became　a　bout…drinker；　having　at　intervals　these　bouts
of　three　or　four　days　of　brandy…drinking；　when　he　was　drunk　for
the　whole　time。　He　did　not　think　about　it。　A　deep　resentment
burned　in　him。　He　kept　aloof　from　any　women；　antagonistic。

When　he　was　twenty…eight；　a　thick…limbed；　stiff；　fair　man
with　fresh　plexion；　and　blue　eyes　staring　very　straight
ahead；　he　was　ing　one　day　down　from　Cossethay　with　a　load　of
seed　out　of　Nottingham。　It　was　a　time　when　he　was　getting　ready
for　another　bout　of　drinking；　so　he　stared　fixedly　before　him；
watchful　yet　absorbed；　seeing　everything　and　aware　of　nothing；
coiled　in　himself。　It　was　early　in　the　year。

He　walked　steadily　beside　the　horse；　the　load　clanked　behind
as　the　hill　descended　steeper。　The　road　curved　down…hill　before
him；　under　banks　and　hedges；　seen　only　for　a　few　yards
ahead。

Slowly　turning　the　curve　at　the　steepest　part　of　the　slope；
his　horse　britching　between　the　shafts；　he　saw　a　woman
approaching。　But　he　was　thinking　for　the　moment　of　the
horse。

Then　he　turned　to　look　at　her。　She　was　dressed　in　black；　was
apparently　rather　small　and　slight；　beneath　her　long　black
cloak；　and　she　wore　a　black　bonnet。　She　walked　hastily；　as　if
unseeing；　her　head　rather　forward。　It　was　her　curious；　absorbed；
flitting　motion；　as　if　she　were　passing　unseen　by　everybody；
that　first　arrested　him。

She　had　heard　the　cart；　and　looked　up。　Her　face　was　pale　and
clear；　she　had　thick　dark　eyebrows　and　a　wide　mouth；　curiously
held。　He　saw　her　face　clearly；　as　if　by　a　light　in　the　air。　He
saw　her　face　so　distinctly；　that　he　ceased　to　coil　on　himself；
and　was　suspended。

〃That's　her；〃　he　said　involuntarily。　As　the　cart　passed　by；
splashing　through　the　thin　mud；　she　stood　back　against　the　bank。
Then；　as　he　walked　still　beside　his　britching　horse；　his　eyes
met　hers。　He　looked　quickly　away；　pressing　back　his　head；　a　pain
of　joy　running　through　him。　He　could　not　bear　to　think　of
anything。

He　turned　round　at　the　last　moment。　He　saw　her　bonnet；　her
shape　in　the　black　cloak；　the　movement　as　she　walked。　Then　she
was　gone　round　the　bend。

She　had　passed　by。　He　felt　as　if　he　were　walking　again　in　a
far　world；　not　Cossethay；　a　far　world；　the　fragile　reality。　He
went　on；　quiet；　suspended；　rarefied。　He　could　not　bear　to　think
or　to　speak；　nor　make　any　sound　or　sign；　nor　change　his　fixed
motion。　He　could　scarcely　bear　to　think　of　her　face。　He　moved
within　the　knowledge　of　her；　in　the　world　that　was　beyond
reality。

The　feeling　that　they　had　exchanged　recognition　possessed　him
like　a　madness；　like　a　torment。　How　could　he　be　sure；　what
confirmation　had　he？　The　doubt　was　like　a　sense　of　infinite
space；　a　nothingness；　annihilating。　He　kept　within　his　breast
the　will　to　surety。　They　had　exchanged　recognition。

He　walked　about　in　this　state　for　the　next　few　days。　And　then
again　like　a　mist　it　began　to　break　to　let　through　the　mon；
barren　world。　He　was　very　gentle　with　man　and　beast；　but　he
dreaded　the　starkness　of　disillusion　cropping　through　again。

As　he　was　standing　with　his　back　to　the　fire　after　dinner　a
few　days　later；　he　saw　the　woman　passing。　He　wanted　to　know　that
she　knew　him；　that　she　was　aware。　He　wanted　it　said　that　there
was　something　between　them。　So　he　stood　anxiously　watching；
looking　at　her　as　she　went　down　the　road。　He　called　to
Tilly。

〃Who　might　that　be？〃　he　asked。

Tilly；　the　cross…eyed　woman　of　forty；　who　adored　him；　ran
gladly　to　the　window　to　look。　She　was　glad　when　he　asked　her　for
anything。　She　craned　her　head　over　the　short　curtain；　the　little
tight　knob　of　her　black　hair　sticking　out　pathetically　as　she
bobbed　about。

〃Oh　why〃……she　lifted　her　head　and　peered　with　her
twisted；　keen　brown　eyes……〃why；　you　know　who　it
is……it's　her　from　th'　vicarage……you　know……〃

〃How　do　I　know；　you　hen…bird；〃　he　shouted。

Tilly　blushed　and　drew　her　neck　in　and　looked　at　him　with　her
squinting；　sharp；　almost　reproachful　look。

〃Why　you　do……it's　the　new　housekeeper。〃

〃Ay……an'　what　by　that？〃

〃Well；　an'　what　by　that？〃　rejoined　the　indignant
Tilly。

〃She's　a　woman；　isn't　she；　housekeeper　or　no　housekeeper？
She's　got　more　to　her　than　that！　Who　is　she……she's　got　a
name？〃

〃Well；　if　she　has；　I　don't　know；〃　retorted　Tilly；　not
to　be　badgered　by　this　lad　who　had　grown　up　into　a　man。

〃What's　her　name？〃　he　asked；　more　gently。

〃I'm　sure　I　couldn't　tell　you；〃　replied　Tilly；　on　her
dignity。

〃An'　is　that　all　as　you've　gathered；　as　she's　housekeeping　at
the　vicarage？〃

〃I've　'eered　mention　of　'er　name；　but　I　couldn't　remember　it
for　my　life。〃

〃Why；　yer　riddle…skulled　woman　o'　nonsense；　what　have　you　got
a　head　for？〃

〃For　what　other　folks　'as　got　theirs　for；〃　retorted　Tilly；
who　loved　nothing　more　than　these　tilts　when　he　would　call　her
names。

There　was　a　lull。

〃I　don't　believe　as　anybody　could　keep　it　in　their　head；〃　the
woman…servant　continued；　tentatively。

〃What？〃　he　asked。

〃Why；　'er　name。〃

〃How's　that？〃

〃She's　fra　some　foreign　parts　or　other。〃

〃Who　told　you　that？〃

〃That's　all　I　do　know；　as　she　is。〃

〃An'　wheer　do　you　reckon　she's　from；　then？〃

〃I　don't　know。　They　do　say　as　she　hails　fra　th'　Pole。　I　don't
know；〃　Tilly　hastened　to　add；　knowing　he　would　attack　her。

〃Fra　th'　Pole；　why　do　you　hail　fra　th'　Pole？　Who　set
up　that　menagerie　confabulation？〃

〃That's　what　they　say……I　don't　know〃

〃Who　says？〃

〃Mrs。　Bentley　says　as　she's　fra　th'　Pole……else　she　is　a
Pole；　or　summat。〃

Tilly　was　only　afraid　she　was　landing　herself　deeper　now。

〃Who　says　she's　a　Pole？〃

〃They　all　say　so。〃

〃Then　what's　brought　her　to　these　parts？〃

〃I　couldn't　tell　you。　She's　got　a　little　girl　with　her。〃

〃Got　a　little　girl　with　her？〃

〃Of　three　or　four；　with　a　head　like　a　fuzz…ball。〃

〃Black？〃

〃White……fair　as　can　be；　an'　all　of　a　fuzz。〃

〃Is　there　a　father；　then？〃

〃Not　to　my　knowledge。　I　don't　know。〃

〃What　brought　her　here？〃

〃I　couldn't　say；　without　th'　vicar　axed　her。〃

〃Is　the　child　her　child？〃

〃I　s'd　think　so……they　say　so。〃

〃Who　told　you　about　her？〃

〃Why；　Lizzie……a…Monday……we　seed　her　goin'
past。〃

〃You'd　have　to　be　rattling　your　tongues　if　anything　went
past。〃

Brangwen　stood　musing。　That　evening　he　went　up　to　Cossethay
to　the　〃Red　Lion〃；　half　with　the　intention　of　hearing　more。

She　was　the　widow　o