首页 >出版文学> THE TROLL GARDEN AND SELECTED STORIES>第32章
  “Iknowperfectlywellwhatyoumean,“answeredEverett,thoughtfully。“Ihaveoftenfeltsoabouthimmyself。Andyetit’sdifficulttoprescribeforthosefellows;solittlemakes,solittlemars。“
  Katharineraisedherselfuponherelbow,andherfaceflushedwithfeverishearnestness。“Ah,butitisthewasteofhimselfthatImean;hislashinghimselfoutonstupidanduncomprehendingpeopleuntiltheytakehimattheirownestimate。
  Hecankindlemarble,strikefirefromputty,butisitworthwhatitcostshim?“
  “Come,come,“expostulatedEverett,alarmedatherexcitement。
  “Whereisthenewsonata?Lethimspeakforhimself。“
  Hesatdownatthepianoandbeganplayingthefirstmovement,whichwasindeedthevoiceofAdriance,hisproperspeech。Thesonatawasthemostambitiousworkhehaddoneuptothattimeandmarkedthetransitionfromhispurelylyricveintoadeeperandnoblerstyle。Everettplayedintelligentlyandwiththatsympatheticcomprehensionwhichseemspeculiartoacertainlovableclassofmenwhoneveraccomplishanythinginparticular。
  WhenhehadfinishedheturnedtoKatharine。
  “Howhehasgrown!“shecried。“Whatthethreelastyearshavedoneforhim!Heusedtowriteonlythetragediesofpassion;butthisisthetragedyofthesoul,theshadowcoexistentwiththesoul。Thisisthetragedyofeffortandfailure,thethingKeatscalledhell。Thisismytragedy,asIlieherespentbytheracecourse,listeningtothefeetoftherunnersastheypassme。
  Ah,God!Theswiftfeetoftherunners!“
  Sheturnedherfaceawayandcovereditwithherstraininghands。Everettcrossedovertoherquicklyandkneltbesideher。
  Inallthedayshehadknownhershehadneverbefore,beyondanoccasionalironicaljest,givenvoicetothebitternessofherowndefeat。Hercouragehadbecomeapointofpridewithhim,andtoseeitgoingsickenedhim。
  “Don’tdoit,“hegasped。“Ican’tstandit,Ireallycan’t,Ifeelittoomuch。Wemustn’tspeakofthat;it’stootragicandtoovast。“
  Whensheturnedherfacebacktohimtherewasaghostoftheold,brave,cynicalsmileonit,morebitterthanthetearsshecouldnotshed。“No,Iwon’tbesoungenerous;IwillsavethatforthewatchesofthenightwhenIhavenobettercompany。Nowyoumaymixmeanotherdrinkofsomesort。Formerly,whenitwasnotifIshouldeversingBrunnhilde,butquitesimplywhenI
  shouldsingBrunnhilde,IwasalwaysstarvingmyselfandthinkingwhatImightdrinkandwhatImightnot。Butbrokenmusicboxesmaydrinkwhatsoevertheylist,andnoonecareswhethertheylosetheirfigure。Runoverthatthemeatthebeginningagain。
  That,atleast,isnotnew。ItwasrunninginhisheadwhenwewereinVeniceyearsago,andheusedtodrumitonhisglassatthedinnertable。Hehadjustbeguntoworkitoutwhenthelateautumncameon,andthepalenessoftheAdriaticoppressedhim,andhedecidedtogotoFlorenceforthewinter,andlosttouchwiththethemeduringhisillness。Doyourememberthosefrightfuldays?Allthepeoplewhohavelovedhimarenotstrongenoughtosavehimfromhimself!WhenIgotwordfromFlorencethathehadbeenillIwasinNicefillingaconcertengagement。
  HiswifewashurryingtohimfromParis,butIreachedhimfirst。
  Iarrivedatdusk,inaterrificstorm。Theyhadtakenanoldpalacethereforthewinter,andIfoundhiminthelibrary——along,darkroomfullofoldLatinbooksandheavyfurnitureandbronzes。Hewassittingbyawoodfireatoneendoftheroom,looking,oh,sowornandpale!——ashealwaysdoeswhenheisill,youknow。Ah,itissogoodthatyoudoknow!Evenhisredsmokingjacketlentnocolortohisface。Hisfirstwordswerenottotellmehowillhehadbeen,butthatthatmorninghehadbeenwellenoughtoputthelaststrokestothescoreofhisSouvenirsd’Automne。HewasasImostliketorememberhim:
  socalmandhappyandtired;notgay,asheusuallyis,butjustcontentedandtiredwiththatheavenlytirednessthatcomesafteragoodworkdoneatlast。Outside,therainpoureddownintorrents,andthewindmoanedforthepainofalltheworldandsobbedinthebranchesoftheshiveringolivesandaboutthewallsofthatdesolatedoldpalace。Howthatnightcomesbacktome!
  Therewerenolightsintheroom,onlythewoodfirewhichgloweduponthehardfeaturesofthebronzeDante,likethereflectionofpurgatorialflames,andthrewlongblackshadowsaboutus;beyondusitscarcelypenetratedthegloomatall,Adriancesatstaringatthefirewiththewearinessofallhislifeinhiseves,andofalltheotherlivesthatmustaspireandsuffertomakeuponesuchlifeashis。Somehowthewindwithallitsworld-painhadgotintotheroom,andthecoldrainwasinoureyes,andthewavecameupinbothofusatonce——thatawful,vague,universalpain,thatcoldfearoflifeanddeathandGodandhope——andwewereliketwoclingingtogetheronasparinmidoceanaftertheshipwreckofeverything。Thenweheardthefrontdooropenwithagreatgustofwindthatshookeventhewalls,andtheservantscamerunningwithlights,announcingthatMadamhadreturned,’andinthebookwereadnomorethatnight。’“
  Shegavetheoldlinewithacertainbitterhumor,andwiththehard,brightsmileinwhichofoldshehadwrappedherweaknessasinaglitteringgarment。Thatironicalsmile,wornlikeamaskthroughsomanyyears,hadgraduallychangedeventhelinesofherfacecompletely,andwhenshelookedinthemirrorshesawnotherself,butthescathingcritic,theamusedobserverandsatiristofherself。Everettdroppedhisheaduponhishandandsatlookingattherug。“Howmuchyouhavecared!“hesaid。
  “Ah,yes,Icared,“shereplied,closinghereyeswithalong-drawnsighofrelief;andlyingperfectlystill,shewenton:“Youcan’timaginewhatacomfortitistohaveyouknowhowI
  cared,whatareliefitistobeabletotellittosomeone。I
  usedtowanttoshriekitouttotheworldinthelongnightswhenIcouldnotsleep。ItseemedtomethatIcouldnotdiewithit。
  Itdemandedsomesortofexpression。Andnowthatyouknow,youwouldscarcelybelievehowmuchlesssharptheanguishofitis。“
  Everettcontinuedtolookhelplesslyatthefloor。“Iwasnotsurehowmuchyouwantedmetoknow,“hesaid。
  “Oh,IintendedyoushouldknowfromthefirsttimeIlookedintoyourface,whenyoucamethatdaywithCharley。IflattermyselfthatIhavebeenabletoconcealitwhenIchose,thoughI
  supposewomenalwaysthinkthat。Themoreobservingonesmayhaveseen,butdiscerningpeopleareusuallydiscreetandoftenkind,forweusuallybleedalittlebeforewebegintodiscern。
  ButIwantedyoutoknow;youaresolikehimthatitisalmostliketellinghimhimself。Atleast,Ifeelnowthathewillknowsomeday,andthenIwillbequitesacredfromhiscompassion,forwenoneofusdarepitythedead。Sinceitwaswhatmylifehaschieflymeant,Ishouldlikehimtoknow。OnthewholeIamnotashamedofit。Ihavefoughtagoodfight。“
  “Andhasheneverknownatall?“askedEverett,inathickvoice。
  “Oh!Neveratallinthewaythatyoumean。Ofcourse,heisaccustomedtolookingintotheeyesofwomenandfindinglovethere;whenhedoesn’tfindittherehethinkshemusthavebeenguiltyofsomediscourtesyandismiserableaboutit。Hehasagenuinefondnessforeveryonewhoisnotstupidorgloomy,oroldorpreternaturallyugly。Grantedyouthandcheerfulness,andamoderateamountofwitandsometact,andAdriancewillalwaysbegladtoseeyoucomingaroundthecorner。Isharedwiththerest;sharedthesmilesandthegallantriesandthedrolllittlesermons。ItwasquitelikeaSunday-schoolpicnic;weworeourbestclothesandasmileandtookourturns。Itwashiskindnessthatwashardest。Ihaveprettywellusedmylifeupatstandingpunishment。“
  “Don’t;you’llmakemehatehim,“groanedEverett。
  Katharinelaughedandbegantoplaynervouslywithherfan。
  “Itwasn’tintheslightestdegreehisfault;thatisthemostgrotesquepartofit。Why,ithadreallybegunbeforeI
  evermethim。Ifoughtmywaytohim,andIdrankmydoomgreedilyenough。“
  Everettroseandstoodhesitating。“IthinkImustgo。Yououghttobequiet,andIdon’tthinkIcanhearanymorejustnow。“
  Sheputoutherhandandtookhisplayfully。“You’veputinthreeweeksatthissortofthing,haven’tyou?Well,itmayneverbetoyourgloryinthisworld,perhaps,butit’sbeenthemercyofheaventome,anditoughttosquareaccountsforamuchworselifethanyourswilleverbe。“
  Everettkneltbesideher,saying,brokenly:“IstayedbecauseI
  wantedtobewithyou,that’sall。IhavenevercaredaboutotherwomensinceImetyouinNewYorkwhenIwasalad。Youareapartofmydestiny,andIcouldnotleaveyouifIwould。“
  Sheputherhandsonhisshouldersandshookherhead。“No,no;don’ttellmethat。Ihaveseenenoughoftragedy,Godknows。Don’tshowmeanymorejustasthecurtainisgoingdown。
  No,no,itwasonlyaboy’sfancy,andyourdivinepityandmyutterpitiablenesshaverecalleditforamoment。Onedoesnotlovethedying,dearfriend。Ifsomefancyofthatsorthadbeenleftoverfromboyhood,thiswouldridyouofit,andthatwerewell。Nowgo,andyouwillcomeagaintomorrow,aslongastherearetomorrows,willyounot?“Shetookhishandwithasmilethatliftedthemaskfromhersoul,thatwasbothcourageanddespair,andfullofinfiniteloyaltyandtenderness,asshesaidsoftly:
  Foreverandforever,farewell,Cassius;
  Ifwedomeetagain,why,weshallsmile;
  Ifnot,whythen,thispartingwaswellmade。
  Thecourageinhereyeswasliketheclearlightofastartohimashewentout。