villa rubein and other stories-第2部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



Harz：　〃Would　you　care　to　know　the　family　at　that　pink　house；　Villa

Rubein？〃



Harz　answered　with　a　smile：



〃Perhaps。〃



〃Come　with　me　then　this　afternoon。〃



They　had　stopped　before　an　old　house　with　a　blind；　deserted　look；

that　stood　by　itself　on　the　wall；　Harz　pushed　the　door　open。



〃Come　in；　you　don't　want　breakfast　yet。　　I'm　going　to　paint　the　river

to…day。〃



He　ran　up　the　bare　broad　stairs；　and　Dawney　followed　leisurely；　his

thumbs　hooked　in　the　armholes　of　his　waistcoat；　and　his　head　thrown

back。



In　the　attic　which　filled　the　whole　top　story；　Harz　had　pulled　a

canvas　to　the　window。　　He　was　a　young　man　of　middle　height；　square

shouldered；　active；　with　an　angular　face；　high　cheek…bones；　and　a

strong；　sharp　chin。　　His　eyes　were　piercing　and　steel…blue；　his

eyebrows　very　flexible；　nose　long　and　thin　with　a　high　bridge；　and

his　dark；　unparted　hair　fitted　him　like　a　cap。　　His　clothes　looked　as

if　he　never　gave　them　a　second　thought。



This　room；　which　served　for　studio；　bedroom；　and　sitting…room；　was

bare　and　dusty。　　Below　the　window　the　river　in　spring　flood　rushed

down　the　valley；　a　stream；　of　molten　bronze。　　Harz　dodged　before　the

canvas　like　a　fencer　finding　his　distance；　Dawney　took　his　seat　on　a

packingcase。



〃The　snows　have　gone　with　a　rush　this　year；〃　he　drawled。　　〃The　Talfer

comes　down　brown；　the　Eisack　comes　down　blue；　they　flow　into　the

Etsch　and　make　it　green；　a　parable　of　the　Spring　for　you；　my

painter。〃



Harz　mixed　his　colours。



〃I've　no　time　for　parables；〃　he　said；　〃no　time　for　anything。　　If　I

could　be　guaranteed　to　live　to　ninety…nine；　like　Titianhe　had　a

chance。　　Look　at　that　poor　fellow　who　was　killed　the　other　day！　　All

that　struggle；　and　thenjust　at　the　turn！〃



He　spoke　English　with　a　foreign　accent；　his　voice　was　rather　harsh；

but　his　smile　very　kindly。



Dawney　lit　a　cigarette。



〃You　painters；〃　he　said；　〃are　better　off　than　most　of　us。　　You　can

strike　out　your　own　line。　　Now　if　I　choose　to　treat　a　case　out　of　the

ordinary　way　and　the　patient　dies；　I'm　ruined。〃



〃My　dear　Doctorif　I　don't　paint　what　the　public　likes；　I　starve；

all　the　same　I'm　going　to　paint　in　my　own　way；　in　the　end　I　shall

come　out　on　top。〃



〃It　pays　to　work　in　the　groove；　my　friend；　until　you've　made　your

name；　after　thatdo　what　you　like；　they'll　lick　your　boots　all　the

same。〃



〃Ah；　you　don't　love　your　work。〃



Dawney　answered　slowly：　〃Never　so　happy　as　when　my　hands　are　full。

But　I　want　to　make　money；　to　get　known；　to　have　a　good　time；　good

cigars；　good　wine。　　I　hate　discomfort。　　No；　my　boy；　I　must　work　it　on

the　usual　lines；　I　don't　like　it；　but　I　must　lump　it。　　One　starts　in

life　with　some　notion　of　the　idealit's　gone　by　the　board　with　me。

I've　got　to　shove　along　until　I've　made　my　name；　and　then；　my　little

manthen〃



〃Then　you'll　be　soft！　　〃You　pay　dearly　for　that　first　period！〃



〃Take　my　chance　of　that；　there's　no　other　way。〃



〃Make　one！〃



〃Humph！〃



Harz　poised　his　brush；　as　though　it　were　a　spear：



〃A　man　must　do　the　best　in　him。　　If　he　has　to　sufferlet　him！〃



Dawney　stretched　his　large　soft　body；　a　calculating　look　had　come

into　his　eyes。



〃You're　a　tough　little　man！〃　he　said。



〃I've　had　to　be　tough。〃



Dawney　rose；　tobacco　smoke　was　wreathed　round　his　unruffled　hair。



〃Touching　Villa　Rubein；〃　he　said；　〃shall　I　call　for　you？　　It's　a

mixed　household；　English　mostlyvery　decent　people。〃



〃No；　thank　you。　　I　shall　be　painting　all　day。　　Haven't　time　to　know

the　sort　of　people　who　expect　one　to　change　one's　clothes。〃



〃As　you　like；　ta…to！〃　　And；　puffing　out　his　chest；　Dawney　vanished

through　a　blanket　looped　across　the　doorway。



Harz　set　a　pot　of　coffee　on　a　spirit…lamp；　and　cut　himself　some

bread。　　Through　the　window　the　freshness　of　the　morning　came；　the

scent　of　sap　and　blossom　and　young　leaves；　the　scent　of　earth；　and

the　mountains　freed　from　winter；　the　new　flights　and　songs　of　birds；

all　the　odorous；　enchanted；　restless　Spring。



There　suddenly　appeared　through　the　doorway　a　white　rough…haired

terrier　dog；　black…marked　about　the　face；　with　shaggy　tan　eyebrows。

He　sniffed　at　Harz；　showed　the　whites　round　his　eyes；　and　uttered　a

sharp　bark。　　A　young　voice　called：



〃Scruff！　Thou　naughty　dog！〃　　Light　footsteps　were　heard　on　the

stairs；　from　the　distance　a　thin；　high　voice　called：



〃Greta！　You　mustn't　go　up　there！〃



A　little　girl　of　twelve；　with　long　fair　hair　under　a　wide…brimmed

hat；　slipped　in。



Her　blue　eyes　opened　wide；　her　face　flushed　up。　　That　face　was　not

regular；　its　cheek…bones　were　rather　prominent；　the　nose　was

flattish；　there　was　about　it　an　air；　innocent；　reflecting；　quizzical；

shy。



〃Oh！〃　she　said。



Harz　smiled：　〃Good…morning！　　This　your　dog？〃



She　did　not　answer；　but　looked　at　him　with　soft　bewilderment；　then

running　to　the　dog　seized　him　by　the　collar。



〃Scr…ruff！　Thou　naughty　dog…the　baddest　dog！〃　　The　ends　of　her　hair

fell　about　him；　she　looked　up　at　Harz；　who　said：



〃Not　at　all！　　Let　me　give　him　some　bread。〃



〃Oh　no！　You　must　notI　will　beat　himand　tell　him　he　is　bad；　then

he　shall　not　do　such　things　again。　　Now　he　is　sulky；　he　looks　so

always　when　he　is　sulky。　　Is　this　your　home？〃



〃For　the　present；　I　am　a　visitor。〃



〃But　I　think　you　are　of　this　country；　because　you　speak　like　it。〃



〃Certainly；　I　am　a　Tyroler。〃



〃I　have　to　talk　English　this　morning；　but　I　do　not　like　it　very　much…

…because；　also　I　am　half　Austrian；　and　I　like　it　best；　but　my　sister；

Christian；　is　all　English。　　Here　is　Miss　Naylor；　she　shall　be　very

angry　with　me。〃



And　pointing　to　the　entrance　with　a　rosy…tipped　forefinger；　she　again

looked　ruefully　at　Harz。



There　came　into　the　room　with　a　walk　like　the　hopping　of　a　bird　an

elderly；　small　lady；　in　a　grey　serge　dress；　with　narrow　bands　of

claret…coloured　velveteen；　a　large　gold　cross　dangled　from　a　steel

chain　on　her　chest；　she　nervously　twisted　her　hands；　clad　in　black

kid　gloves；　rather　white　about　the　seams。



Her　hair　was　prematurely　grey；　her　quick　eyes　brown；　her　mouth

twisted　at　one　corner；　she　held　her　face；　kind…looking；　but　long　and

narrow；　rather　to　one　side；　and　wore　on　it　a　look　of　apology。　　Her

quick　sentences　sounded　as　if　she　kept　them　on　strings；　and　wanted　to

draw　them　back　as　soon　as　she　had　let　them　forth。



〃Greta；　how　can；　you　do　such　things？　　I　don't　know　what　your　father

would　say！　　I　am　sure　I　don't　know　how　toso　extraordinary〃



〃Please！〃　said　Harz。



〃You　must　come　at　onceso　very　sorryso　awkward！〃　　They　were

standing　in　a　ring：　Harz　with　his　eyebrows　working　up　and　down；　the

little　lady　fidgeting　her　parasol；　Greta；　flushed　and　pouting；　her

eyes　all　dewy；　twisting　an　end　of　fair　hair　round　her　finger。



〃Oh；　look！〃　　The　coffee　had　boiled　over。　　Little　brown　streams

trickled　spluttering　from　the　pan；　the　dog；　with　ears　laid　back　and

tail　tucked　in；　went　scurrying　round　the　room。　　A　feeling　of

fellowship　fell　on　them　at　once。



〃Along　the　wall　is　our　favourite　walk；　and　Scruffso　awkward；　so

unfortunatewe　did　not　think　any　one　lived　herethe　shutters　are

cracked；　the　paint　is　peeling　off　so　dreadfully。　　Have　you　been　long

in　Botzen？　　Two　months？　　Fancy！　　You　are　not　English？　　You　are

Tyrolese？　　But　you　speak　English　so　wellthere　for　seven　years？

Really？　　So　fortunate！It　is　Greta's　day　for　English。〃



Miss　Naylor's　eyes　darted　bewildered　glances　at　the　roof　where　the

crossing　of　the　beams　made　such　deep　shadows；　at　the　litter　of

brushes；　tools；　knives；　and　colours　on　a　table　made　out　of　packing…

cases；　at　the　big　window；　innocent　of　glass；　and　flush　with　the

floor；　whence　dangled　a　bit　of　rusty　chainrelic　of　the　time　when

the　place　had　been　a　store…loft；　her　eyes　were　hastily　averted　from

an　unfnished　figure　of　the　nude。



Greta；　with　feet　crossed；　sat　on　a　coloured　blanket；　dabbling　her

fnger　in　a　little　pool　of　coffee；　and　gazing　up　at　Harz。　　And　he

thought：　'I　should　like　to　paint　her　like　that。　　〃A　forget…me…not。〃'



He　took　out　his　chalks　to　make　a　sketch　of　her。



〃Shall　you　show　me？〃　cried　out　Greta；　scrambling　to　her　feet。



〃'Will；'　Greta'will'；　how　often　must　I　tell　you？　　I　think　we　should

be　goingit　is　very　lateyour　fatherso　very　kind　of　you；　but　I

think　we　should　be　going。　　Scruff！〃　　　Miss　Naylor　gave　the　floor　two

taps。　　The　terrier　backed　into　a　plaster　cast　which　came　down　on　his

tail；　and　sent　him　flying　through　the　doorway。　　Greta　followed

swiftly；　crying：



〃Ach！　poor　Scrufee！〃



Miss　Naylor　crossed　the　room；　bowing；　she　murmured　an　apology；　and

also　disappeared。



Harz　was　left　alone；　his　guests　were　gone；　the　little　girl　with　the

fair　hair　and　the　eyes　like　forget…me…nots；　the　little　lady　with

kindly　gestures　and　bird…like　walk；　the　terrier。　　He　looked　round

him；　the　room　seemed　very　empty。　　Gnawing　his　moustache；　he　muttered

at　the　fallen　cast。



Then　taking　up　his　brush；　stood　before　his　picture；　smiling　and

frowning。　　Soon　he　had　forgotten　it　all　in　his　work。









II



It　was　early　morning　four　days　later；　and　Harz　was　loitering

homewards。　　The　shadows　of　the　clouds　passing　across　the　vines　were

vanishing　over　the　jumbled　roofs　and　green…topped　spires　of　the　town。

A　strong　sweet　wind　was　blowing　from　the　mountains；　there　was　a　stir

in　the　branches　of　the　trees；　and　flakes　of　the　late　blossom　were

drifting　down。　　Amongst　the　soft　green　pods　of　a　kind　of　poplar

chafers　buzzed；　and　numbers　of　their　little　brown　bodies　were　strewn

on　the　path。



He　passed　a　bench　where　a　girl　sat　sketching。　　A　puff　of　wind　whirled

her　drawing　to　the　ground；　Harz　ran　to　pick　it　up。　　She　took　it　from

him　with　a　bow；　but；　as　he　turned　away；　she　tore　the　sketch　across。



〃Ah！〃　he　said；　〃why　did　you　do　that？〃



This　girl；　who　stood　with　a　bit　of　the　torn　sketch　in　either　hand；

was　slight　and