首页 >出版文学> Indian Summer of a Forsyte>第45章
  Doyouknowanydrill,Val?””Notascrap。””Ihopetheywon’tworryyoumuch。Imusttakeyouabouttogetthethingsto-morrow。Good-night;kissme。”
  Withthatkiss,softandhot,betweenhiseyes,andthosewords,’I
  hopetheywon’tworryyoumuch,’inhisears,hesatdowntoacigarette,beforeadyingfire。Theheatwasoutofhim——theglowofcuttingadash。Itwasalladamnedheart-achingbore。’I’llbeevenwiththatchapJolly,’hethought,trailingupthestairs,pasttheroomwherehismotherwasbitingherpillowtosmotherasenseofdesolationwhichwastryingtomakehersob。
  AndsoononlyoneofthedinersatJames’wasawake——Soames,inhisbedroomabovehisfather’s。
  SothatfellowJolyonwasinParis——whatwashedoingthere?
  HangingroundIrene!ThelastreportfromPolteedhadhintedthattheremightbesomethingsoon。Coulditbethis?Thatfellow,withhisbeardandhiscursedamusedwayofspeaking——sonoftheoldmanwhohadgivenhimthenickname’ManofProperty,’andboughtthefatalhousefromhim。SoameshadeverresentedhavinghadtosellthehouseatRobinHill;neverforgivenhisuncleforhavingboughtit,orhiscousinforlivinginit。
  Recklessofthecold,hethrewhiswindowupandgazedoutacrossthePark。BleakanddarktheJanuarynight;littlesoundoftraffic;afrostcoming;baretrees;astarortwo。’I’llseePolteedto-morrow,’hethought。’ByGod!I’mmad,Ithink,towantherstill。Thatfellow!If……?Um!No!’
  CHAPTERX
  DEATHOFTHEDOGBALTHASAR
  Jolyon,whohadcrossedfromCalaisbynight,arrivedatRobin——
  HillonSundaymorning。Hehadsentnowordbeforehand,sowalkedupfromthestation,enteringhisdomainbythecoppicegate。
  Comingtothelogseatfashionedoutofanoldfallentrunk,hesatdown,firstlayinghisovercoatonit。
  ’Lumbago!’hethought;’that’swhatloveendsinatmytimeoflife!’AndsuddenlyIreneseemedverynear,justasshehadbeenthatdayoframblingatFontainebleauwhentheyhadsatonalogtoeattheirlunch。Hauntinglynear!Odourdrawnoutoffallenleavesbythepale-filteringsunlightsoakedhisnostrils。’I’mgladitisn’tspring,’hethought。Withthescentofsap,andthesongofbirds,andtheburstingoftheblossoms,itwouldhavebeenunbearable!’IhopeIshallbeoveritbythen,oldfoolthatI
  am!’andpickinguphiscoat,hewalkedonintothefield。Hepassedthepondandmountedthehillslowly。
  Nearthetopahoarsebarkinggreetedhim。UponthelawnabovetheferneryhecouldseehisolddogBalthasar。Theanimal,whosedimeyestookhismasterforastranger,waswarningtheworldagainsthim。Jolyongavehisspecialwhistle。Evenatthatdistanceofahundredyardsandmorehecouldseethedawningrecognitionintheobesebrown-whitebody。Theolddoggotoffhishaunches,andhistail,close-curledoverhisback,beganafeeble,excitedfluttering;hecamewaddlingforward,gatheredmomentum,anddisappearedovertheedgeofthefernery。Jolyonexpectedtomeethimatthewicketgate,butBalthasarwasnotthere,and,ratheralarmed,heturnedintothefernery。Onhisfatside,lookingupwitheyesalreadyglazing,theolddoglay。”Whatisit,mypooroldman?”criedJolyon。Balthasar’scurledandfluffytailjustmoved;hisfilmingeyesseemedsaying:”I
  can’tgetup,master,butI’mgladtoseeyou。”
  Jolyonkneltdown;hiseyes,verydimmed,couldhardlyseetheslowlyceasingheaveofthedog’sside。Heraisedtheheadalittle——veryheavy。”Whatisit,dearman?Whereareyouhurt?”Thetailflutteredonce;theeyeslostthelookoflife。Jolyonpassedhishandsallovertheinertwarmbulk。Therewasnothing——thehearthadsimplyfailedinthatobesebodyfromtheemotionofhismaster’sreturn。
  Jolyoncouldfeelthemuzzle,whereafewwhitishbristlesgrew,coolingalreadyagainsthislips。Hestayedforsomeminuteskneeling;withhishandbeneaththestiffeninghead。Thebodywasveryheavywhenheboreittothetopofthefield;leaveshaddriftedthere,andhestreweditwithacoveringofthem;therewasnowind,andtheywouldkeephimfromcuriouseyesuntiltheafternoon。’I’llburyhimmyself,’hethought。EighteenyearshadgonesincehefirstwentintotheSt。John’sWoodhousewiththattinypuppyinhispocket。Strangethattheolddogshoulddiejustnow!Wasitanomen?Heturnedatthegatetolookbackatthatrussetmound,thenwentslowlytowardsthehouse,verychokyinthethroat。
  Junewasathome;shehadcomedownhotfootonhearingthenewsofJolly’senlistment。HispatriotismhadconqueredherfeelingfortheBoers。TheatmosphereofhishousewasstrangeandpockettywhenJolyoncameinandtoldthemofthedogBalthasar’sdeath。
  Thenewshadaunifyingeffect。Alinkwiththepasthadsnapped——
  thedogBalthasar!Twoofthemcouldremembernothingbeforehisday;toJuneherepresentedthelastyearsofhergrandfather;toJolyonthatlifeofdomesticstressandaestheticstrugglebeforehecameagainintothekingdomofhisfather’sloveandwealth!
  Andhewasgone!
  IntheafternoonheandJollytookpicksandspadesandwentouttothefield。Theychoseaspotclosetotherussetmound,sothattheyneednotcarryhimfar,and,carefullycuttingoffthesurfaceturf,begantodig。Theyduginsilencefortenminutes,andthenrested。”Well,oldman,”saidJolyon,”soyouthoughtyouought?””Yes,”answeredJolly;”Idon’twanttoabit,ofcourse。”
  HowexactlythosewordsrepresentedJolyon’sownstateofmind”Iadmireyouforit,oldboy。Idon’tbelieveIshouldhavedoneitatyourage——toomuchofaForsyte,I’mafraid。ButIsupposethetypegetsthinnerwitheachgeneration。Yourson,ifyouhaveone,maybeapurealtruist;whoknows?””Hewon’tbelikeme,then,Dad;I’mbeastlyselfish。””No,mydear,thatyouclearlyarenot。”Jollyshookhishead,andtheydugagain。”Strangelifeadog’s,”saidJolyonsuddenly:”Theonlyfour-footerwithrudimentsofaltruismandasenseofGod!”
  Jollylookedathisfather。”DoyoubelieveinGod,Dad?I’veneverknown。”
  Atsosearchingaquestionfromonetowhomitwasimpossibletomakealightreply,Jolyonstoodforamomentfeelinghisbacktriedbythedigging。”WhatdoyoumeanbyGod?”hesaid;”therearetwoirreconcilableideasofGod。There’stheUnknowableCreativePrinciple——onebelievesinThat。Andthere’stheSumofaltruisminmannaturallyonebelievesinThat。””Isee。ThatleavesoutChrist,doesn’tit?”
  Jolyonstared。Christ,thelinkbetweenthosetwoideas!Outofthemouthofbabes!Herewasorthodoxyscientificallyexplainedatlast!ThesublimepoemoftheChristlifewasman’sattempttojointhosetwoirreconcilableconceptionsofGod。AndsincetheSumofhumanaltruismwasasmuchapartoftheUnknowableCreativePrincipleasanythingelseinNatureandtheUniverse,aworselinkmighthavebeenchosenafterall!Funny——howonewentthroughlifewithoutseeingitinthatsortofway!”Whatdoyouthink,oldman?”hesaid。
  Jollyfrowned。”Ofcourse,myfirstyearwetalkedagoodbitaboutthatsortofthing。Butinthesecondyearonegivesitup;
  Idon’tknowwhy——it’sawfullyinteresting。”
  JolyonrememberedthathealsohadtalkedagooddealaboutithisfirstyearatCambridge,andgivenitupinhissecond。”Isuppose,”saidJolly,”it’sthesecondGod,youmean,thatoldBalthasarhadasenseof。””Yes,orhewouldneverhavebursthispooroldheartbecauseofsomethingoutsidehimself。””Butwasn’tthatjustselfishemotion,really?”
  Jolyonshookhishead。”No,dogsarenotpureForsytes,theylovesomethingoutsidethemselves。”
  Jollysmiled。”Well,IthinkI’mone,”hesaid。”Youknow,IonlyenlistedbecauseIdaredValDartieto。””Butwhy?””Webareachother,”saidJollyshortly。”Ah!”mutteredJolyon。Sothefeudwenton,untothethirdgeneration——thismodernfeudwhichhadnoovertexpression?
  ’ShallItelltheboyaboutit?’hethought。Buttowhatend——ifhehadtostopshortofhisownpart?
  AndJollythought:’It’sforHollytolethimknowaboutthatchap。
  Ifshedoesn’t,itmeansshedoesn’twanthimtold,andIshouldbesneaking。Anyway,I’vestoppedit。I’dbetterleavewellalone!’
  Sotheydugoninsilence,tillJolyonsaid:”Now,oldman,Ithinkit’sbigenough。”And,restingontheirspades,theygazeddownintotheholewhereafewleaveshaddriftedalreadyonasunsetwind。”Ican’tbearthispartofit,”saidJolyonsuddenly。”Letmedoit,Dad。Henevercaredmuchforme。”
  Jolyonshookhishead。”We’lllifthimverygently,leavesandall。I’drathernotseehimagain。I’lltakehishead。Now!”
  Withextremecaretheyraisedtheolddog’sbody,whosefadedtanandwhiteshowedhereandthereundertheleavesstirredbythewind。Theylaidit,heavy,cold,andunresponsive,inthegrave,andJollyspreadmoreleavesoverit,whileJolyon,deeplyafraidtoshowemotionbeforehisson,beganquicklyshovellingtheearthontothatstillshape。Therewentthepast!Ifonlytherewereajoyfulfuturetolookforwardto!Itwaslikestampingdownearthonone’sownlife。Theyreplacedtheturfcarefullyonthesmoothlittlemound,and,gratefulthattheyhadsparedeachother’sfeelings,returnedtothehousearm-in-arm。
  CHAPTERXI
  TIMOTHYSTAYSTHEROT