a lonely ride-第2部分
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of NORMAthat remarkable celestial phenomenon which rises so
palpably to a hushed audience and a sublime andante chorus; until
the CASTA DIVA is sungthe 〃inconstant moon〃 that then and
thereafter remains fixed in the heavens as though it were a part of
the solar system inaugurated by Joshua。 Again the white…robed
Druids filed past me; again I saw that improbable mistletoe cut
from that impossible oak; and again cold chills ran down my back
with the first strain of the recitative。 The thumping springs
essayed to beat time; and the private…box…like obscurity of the
vehicle lent a cheap enchantment to the view。 But it was a vast
improvement upon my past experience; and I hugged the fond
delusion。
My fears for the driver were dissipated with the rising moon。 A
familiar sound had assured me of his presence in the full
possession of at least one of his most important functions。
Frequent and full expectoration convinced me that his lips were as
yet not sealed by the gag of highwaymen; and soothed my anxious
ear。 With this load lifted from my mind; and assisted by the mild
presence of Diana; who left; as when she visited Endymion; much of
her splendor outside my cavernI looked around the empty vehicle。
On the forward seat lay a woman's hairpin。 I picked it up with an
interest that; however; soon abated。 There was no scent of the
roses to cling to it still; not even of hair oil。 No bend or twist
in its rigid angles betrayed any trait of its wearer's character。
I tried to think that it might have been 〃Mariar's。〃 I tried to
imagine that; confining the symmetrical curls of that girl; it
might have heard the soft compliments whispered in her ears which
provoked the wrath of the aged female。 But in vain。 It was
reticent and unswerving in its upright fidelity; and at last
slipped listlessly through my fingers。
I had dozed repeatedlywaked on the threshold of oblivion by
contact with some of the angles of the coach; and feeling that I
was unconsciously assuming; in imitation of a humble insect of my
childish recollection; that spherical shape which could best resist
those impressions; when I perceived that the moon; riding high in
the heavens; had begun to separate the formless masses of the
shadowy landscape。 Trees isolated; in clumps and assemblages;
changed places before my window。 The sharp outlines of the distant
hills came back; as in daylight; but little softened in the dry;
cold; dewless air of a California summer night。 I was wondering
how late it was; and thinking that if the horses of the night
traveled as slowly as the team before us; Faustus might have been
spared his agonizing prayer; when a sudden spasm of activity
attacked my driver。 A succession of whip…snappings; like a pack of
Chinese crackers; broke from the box before me。 The stage leaped
forward; and when I could pick myself from under the seat; a long
white building had in some mysterious way rolled before my window。
It must be Slumgullion! As I descended from the stage I addressed
the driver:
〃I thought you changed horses on the road?〃
〃So we did。 Two hours ago。〃
〃That's odd。 I didn't notice it。〃
〃Must have been asleep; sir。 Hope you had a pleasant nap。 Bully
place for a nice quiet snoozeempty stage; sir!〃