The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第92部分

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illusory；　conceited　fulfilment　which　she　had　imagined　she　could
not　have　with　Skrebensky。　Who　was　she　to　be　wanting　some
fantastic　fulfilment　in　her　life？　Was　it　not　enough　that　she　had
her　man；　her　children；　her　place　of　shelter　under　the　sun？　Was
it　not　enough　for　her；　as　it　had　been　enough　for　her　mother？　She
would　marry　and　love　her　husband　and　fill　her　place　simply。　That
was　the　ideal。

Suddenly　she　saw　her　mother　in　a　just　and　true　light。　Her
mother　was　simple　and　radically　true。　She　had　taken　the　life
that　was　given。　She　had　not；　in　her　arrogant　conceit；　insisted
on　creating　life　to　fit　herself。　Her　mother　was　right；
profoundly　right；　and　she　herself　had　been　false；　trashy；
conceited。

A　great　mood　of　humility　came　over　her；　and　in　this　humility
a　bondaged　sort　of　peace。　She　gave　her　limbs　to　the　bondage；　she
loved　the　bondage；　she　called　it　peace。　In　this　state　she　sat
down　to　write　to　Skrebensky。

Since　you　left　me　I　have　suffered　a　great　deal；　and　so　have
e　to　myself。　I　cannot　tell　you　the　remorse　I　feel　for　my
wicked；　perverse　behaviour。　It　was　given　to　me　to　love　you；　and
to　know　your　love　for　me。　But　instead　of　thankfully；　on　my
knees；　taking　what　God　had　given　me；　I　must　have　the　moon　in　my
keeping；　I　must　insist　on　having　the　moon　for　my　own。　Because　I
could　not　have　it；　everything　else　must　go。

I　do　not　know　if　you　can　ever　forgive　me。　I　could　die　with
shame　to　think　of　my　behaviour　with　you　during　our　last　times；
and　I　don't　know　if　I　could　ever　bear　to　look　you　in　the　face
again。　Truly　the　best　thing　would　be　for　me　to　die；　and　cover　my
fantasies　for　ever。　But　I　find　I　am　with　child；　so　that　cannot
be。

It　is　your　child；　and　for　that　reason　I　must　revere　it　and
submit　my　body　entirely　to　its　welfare；　entertaining　no　thought
of　death；　which　once　more　is　largely　conceit。　Therefore；　because
you　once　loved　me；　and　because　this　child　is　your　child；　I　ask
you　to　have　me　back。　If　you　will　cable　me　one　word；　I　will　e
to　you　as　soon　as　I　can。　I　swear　to　you　to　be　a　dutiful　wife；
and　to　serve　you　in　all　things。　For　now　I　only　hate　myself　and
my　own　conceited　foolishness。　I　love　you……I　love　the
thought　of　you……you　were　natural　and　decent　all　through；
whilst　I　was　so　false。　Once　I　am　with　you　again；　I　shall　ask　no
more　than　to　rest　in　your　shelter　all　my　life

This　letter　she　wrote；　sentence　by　sentence；　as　if　from　her
deepest；　sincerest　heart。　She　felt　that　now；　now；　she　was　at　the
depths　of　herself。　This　was　her　true　self；　forever。　With　this
document　she　would　appear　before　God　at　the　Judgment　Day。

For　what　had　a　woman　but　to　submit？　What　was　her　flesh　but
for　childbearing；　her　strength　for　her　children　and　her　husband；
the　giver　of　life？　At　last　she　was　a　woman。

She　posted　her　letter　to　his　club；　to　be　forwarded　to　him　in
Calcutta。　He　would　receive　it　soon　after　his　arrival　in
India……within　three　weeks　of　his　arrival　there。　In　a
month's　time　she　would　receive　word　from　him。　Then　she　would
go。

She　。　She　thought　only　of　preparing　her
garments　and　of　living　quietly；　peacefully；　till　the　time　when
she　should　join　him　again　and　her　history　would　be　concluded　for
ever。　The　peace　held　like　an　unnatural　calm　for　a　long　time。　She
was　aware；　however；　of　a　gathering　restiveness；　a　tumult
impending　within　her。　She　tried　to　run　away　from　it。　She　wished
she　could　hear　from　Skrebensky；　in　answer　to　her　letter；　so　that
her　course　should　be　resolved；　she　should　be　engaged　in
fulfilling　her　fate。　It　was　this　inactivity　which　made　her
liable　to　the　revulsion　she　dreaded。

It　was　curious　how　little　she　cared　about　his　not　having
written　to　her　before。　It　was　enough　that　she　had　sent　her
letter。　She　would　get　the　required　answer；　that　was　all。

One　afternoon　in　early　October；　feeling　the　seething　rising
to　madness　within　her；　she　slipped　out　in　the　rain；　to　walk
abroad；　lest　the　house　should　suffocate　her。　Everywhere　was
drenched　wet　and　deserted；　the　grimed　houses　glowed　dull　red；
the　butt　houses　burned　scarlet　in　a　gleam　of　light；　under　the
glistening；　blackish　purple　slates。　Ursula　went　on　towards
Willey　Green。　She　lifted　her　face　and　walked　swiftly；　seeing　the
passage　of　light　across　the　shallow　valley；　seeing　the　colliery
and　its　clouds　of　steam　for　a　moment　visionary　in　dim
brilliance；　away　in　the　chaos　of　rain。　Then　the　veils　closed
again。　She　was　glad　of　the　rain's　privacy　and　intimacy。

Making　on　towards　the　wood；　she　saw　the　pale　gleam　of　Willey
Water　through　the　cloud　below；　she　walked　the　open　space　where
hawthorn　trees　streamed　like　hair　on　the　wind　and　round　bushes
were　presences　slowing　through　the　atmosphere。　It　was　very
splendid；　free　and　chaotic。

Yet　she　hurried　to　the　wood　for　shelter。　There；　the　vast
booming　overhead　vibrated　down　and　encircled　her；　tree…trunks
spanned　the　circle　of　tremendous　sound；　myriads　of　tree…trunks；
enormous　and　streaked　black　with　water；　thrust　like　stanchions
upright　between　the　roaring　overhead　and　the　sweeping　of　the
circle　underfoot。　She　glided　between　the　tree…trunks；　afraid　of
them。　They　might　turn　and　shut　her　in　as　she　went　through　their
martialled　silence。

So　she　flitted　along；　keeping　an　illusion　that　she　was
unnoticed。　She　felt　like　a　bird　that　has　flown　in　through　the
window　of　a　hall　where　vast　warriors　sit　at　the　board。　Between
their　grave；　booming　ranks　she　was　hastening；　assuming　she　was
unnoticed；　till　she　emerged；　with　beating　heart；　through　the　far
window　and　out　into　the　open；　upon　the　vivid　green；　marshy
meadow。

She　turned　under　the　shelter　of　the　mon；　seeing　the　great
veils　of　rain　swinging　with　slow；　floating　waves　across　the
landscape。　She　was　very　wet　and　a　long　way　from　home；　far
enveloped　in　the　rain　and　the　waving　landscape。　She　must　beat
her　way　back　through　all　this　fluctuation；　back　to　stability　and
security。

A　solitary　thing；　she　took　the　track　straight　across　the
wilderness；　going　back。　The　path　was　a　narrow　groove　in　the　turf
between　high；　sere；　tussocky　grass；　it　was　scarcely　more　than　a
rabbit　run。　So　she　moved　swiftly　along；　watching　her　footing；
going　like　a　bird　on　the　wind；　with　no　thought；　contained　in
motion。　But　her　heart　had　a　small；　living　seed　of　fear；　as　she
went　through　the　wash　of　hollow　space。

Suddenly　she　knew　there　was　something　else。　Some　horses　were
looming　in　the　rain；　not　near　yet。　But　they　were　going　to　be
near。　She　continued　her　path；　inevitably。　They　were　horses　in
the　lee　of　a　clump　of　trees　beyond；　above　her。　She　pursued　her
way　with　bent　head。　She　did　not　want　to　lift　her　face　to　them。
She　did　not　want　to　know　they　were　there。　She　went　on　in　the
wild　track。

She　knew　the　heaviness　on　her　heart。　It　was　the　weight　of　the
horses。　But　she　would　circumvent　them。　She　would　bear　the　weight
steadily；　and　so　escape。　She　would　go　straight　on；　and　on；　and
be　gone　by。

Suddenly　the　weight　deepened　and　her　heart　grew　tense　to　bear
it。　Her　breathing　was　laboured。　But　this　weight　also　she　could
bear。　She　knew　without　looking　that　the　horses　were　moving
nearer。　What　were　they？　She　felt　the　thud　of　their　heavy　hoofs
on　the　ground。　What　was　it　that　was　drawing　near　her；　what
weight　oppressing　her　heart？　She　did　not　know；　she　did　not
look。

Yet　now　her　way　was　cut　off。　They　were　blocking　her　back。　She
knew　they　had　gathered　on　a　log　bridge　over　the　sedgy　dike；　a
dark；　heavy；　powerfully　heavy　knot。　Yet　her　feet　went　on　and　on。
They　would　burst　before　her。　They　would　burst　before　her。　Her
feet　went　on　and　on。　And　tense；　and　more　tense　became　her　nerves
and　her　veins；　they　ran　hot；　they　ran　white　hot；　they　must　fuse
and　she　must　die。

But　the　horses　had　burst　before　her。　In　a　sort　of　lightning
of　knowledge　their　movement　travelled　through　her；　the　quiver
and　strain　and　thrust　of　their　powerful　flanks；　as　they　burst
before　her　and　drew　on；　beyond。

She　knew　they　had　not　gone；　she　knew　they　awaited　her　still。
But　she　went　on　over　the　log　bridge　that　their　hoofs　had　churned
and　drummed；　she　went　on；　knowing　things　about　them。　She　was
aware　of　their　breasts　gripped；　clenched　narrow　in　a　hold　that
never　relaxed；　she　was　aware　of　their　red　nostrils　flaming　with
long　endurance；　and　of　their　haunches；　so　rounded；　so　massive；
pressing；　pressing；　pressing　to　burst　the　grip　upon　their
breasts；　pressing　for　ever　till　they　went　mad；　running　against
the　walls　of　time；　and　never　bursting　free。　Their　great　haunches
were　smoothed　and　darkened　with　rain。　But　the　darkness　and
wetness　of　rain　could　not　put　out　the　hard；　urgent；　massive　fire
that　was　locked　within　these　flanks；　never；　never。

She　went　on；　drawing　near。　She　was　aware　of　the　great　flash
of　hoofs；　a　bluish；　iridescent　flash　surrounding　a　hollow　of
darkness。　Large；　large　seemed　the　bluish；　incandescent　flash　of
the　hoof…iron；　large　as　a　halo　of　lightning　round　the　knotted
darkness　of　the　flanks。　Like　circles　of　lightning　came　the　flash
of　hoofs　from　out　of　the　powerful　flanks。

They　were　awaiting　her　again。　They　had　gathered　under　an　oak
tree；　knotting　their　awful；　blind；　triumphing　flanks　together；
and　waiting；　waiting。　They　were　waiting　for　her　approach。　As　if
from　a　far　distance　she　was　drawing　near；　towards　the　line　of
twiggy　oak　trees　where　they　made　their　intense　darkness；
gathered　on　a　single　bank。

She　must　draw　near。　But　they　broke　away；　they　cantered　round；
making　a　wide　circle　to　avoid　noticing　her；　and　cantered　back
into　the　open　hillside　behind　her。

They　were　behind　her。　The　way　was　open　before　her；　to　the
gate　in　the　high　hedge　in　the　near　distance；　so　she　could　pass
into　the　smaller；　cultivated　field；　and　so　out　to　the　high…road
and　the　ordered　world　of　man。　Her　way　was　clear。　She　lulled　her
heart。　Yet　her　heart　was　couched　with　fear；　couched　with　fear
all　along。

Suddenly　she　hesitated　as　if　seized　by　lightning。　She　seemed
to　fall；　yet　found　herself　faltering　forward　with　small　steps。
The　thunder　of　horses　galloping　down　the　path　behind　her　shook
her；　the　weight　came　down　upon　her；　down；　to　the　moment　of
extinction。　She　could　not　look　round；　so　the　horses　thundered
upon　her。

Cruelly；　they　swerved　and　crashed　by　on　her　left　hand。　She
saw　the　fierce　flanks　crinkled　and　as　yet　inadequate；　the　great
hoofs　flashing　bright　as　yet　only　brandished　about　her；　and　one
by　one　the　horses　crashed　by；　intent；　working　themselves　up。

They　had　gone　by；　brandishing　themselves　thunderously　about
her；　enclosing　her。　They　slackened　their　burst　transport；　they
slowed　down；　and　cantered　together　into　a　knot　once　more；　in　the
corner　by　the　gate　and　the　trees　ahead　of　her。　They　stirred；
they　moved　uneasily；　they　settled　their　uneasy　flanks　into　one
group；　one　purpose。　They　were　up　against　her。

Her　heart　was　gone；　she　had　no　more　heart。　She　knew　she　dare
not　draw　near。　That　concentrated；　knitted　flank　of　the
horse…group　had　conquered。　It　stirred　uneasily；　awaiting　her；
knowing　its　triumph。　It　stirred　uneasily；　with　the　uneasiness　of
awaited　triumph。　Her　heart　was　gone；　her　limbs　were　dissolved；
she　was　dissolved　like　water。　All　the　hardness　and　looming　power
was　in　the　massive　body　of　the　horse…group。

Her　feet　faltered；　she　came　to　a　standstill。　It　was　the
crisis。　The　horses　stirred　their　flanks　uneasily。