villa rubein and other stories-第51部分

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intrusively　fine　eyes；　conveyed　a　continual　courteous　invitation　to

inspect　their　infallibilities。　　He　stood；　like　a　City　〃Atlas；〃　with

his　legs　apart；　his　coat…tails　gathered　in　his　hands；　a　whole　globe

of　financial　matters　deftly　balanced　on　his　nose。　　〃Look　at　me！〃　he

seemed　to　say。　　〃It's　heavy；　but　how　easily　I　carry　it。　　Not　the　man

to　let　it　down；　Sir　！〃



〃I　hope　I　see　you　well；　Mr。　Scorrier；〃　he　began。　　〃I　have　come　round

about　our　mine。　　There　is　a　question　of　a　fresh　field　being　opened

upbetween　ourselves；　not　before　it's　wanted。　　I　find　it　difficult

to　get　my　Board　to　take　a　comprehensive　view。　　In　short；　the　question

is：　Are　you　prepared　to　go　out　for　us；　and　report　on　it？　　The　fees

will　be　all　right。〃　　His　left　eye　closed。　　〃Things　have　been　very

erdicky；　we　are　going　to　change　our　superintendent。　　I　have　got

little　Pippinyou　know　little　Pippin？〃



Scorrier　murmured；　with　a　feeling　of　vague　resentment：　〃Oh　yes。　　He's

not　a　mining　man！〃



Hemmings　replied：　〃We　think　that　he　will　do。〃　　'Do　you？'　thought

Scorrier；　'that's　good　of　you！'



He　had　not　altogether　shaken　off　a　worship　he　had　felt　for　Pippin

〃King〃　Pippin　he　was　always　called；　when　they　had　been　boys　at　the

Camborne　Grammar…school。　　〃King〃　Pippin！　the　boy　with　the　bright

colour；　very　bright　hair；　bright；　subtle；　elusive　eyes；　broad

shoulders；　little　stoop　in　the　neck；　and　a　way　of　moving　it　quickly

like　a　bird；　the　boy　who　was　always　at　the　top　of　everything；　and

held　his　head　as　if　looking　for　something　further　to　be　the　top　of。

He　remembered　how　one　day　〃King〃　Pippin　had　said　to　him　in　his　soft

way；　〃Young　Scorrie；　I'll　do　your　sums　for　you〃；　and　in　answer　to　his

dubious；　〃Is　that　all　right？〃　had　replied；　〃Of　courseI　don't　want

you　to　get　behind　that　beast　Blake；　he's　not　a　Cornishman〃　（the　beast

Blake　was　an　Irishman　not　yet　twelve）。　　He　remembered；　too；　an

occasion　when　〃King〃　Pippin　with　two　other　boys　fought　six　louts　and

got　a　licking；　and　how　Pippin　sat　for　half　an　hour　afterwards；　all

bloody；　his　head　in　his　hands；　rocking　to　and　fro；　and　weeping　tears

of　mortification；　and　how　the　next　day　he　had　sneaked　off　by　himself；

and；　attacking　the　same　gang；　got　frightfully　mauled　a　second　time。



Thinking　of　these　things　he　answered　curtly：　〃When　shall　I　start？〃



〃Down…by…the…starn〃　Hemmings　replied　with　a　sort　of　fearful

sprightliness：　〃There's　a　good　fellow！　　I　will　send　instructions；　so

glad　to　see　you　well。〃　　Conferring　on　Scorrier　a　lookfine　to　the

verge　of　vulgarityhe　withdrew。　　Scorrier　remained；　seated；　heavy

with　insignificance　and　vague　oppression；　as　if　he　had　drunk　a

tumbler　of　sweet　port。



A　week　later；　in　company　with　Pippin；　he　was　on　board　a　liner。



The　〃King〃　Pippin　of　his　school…days　was　now　a　man　of　forty…four。　　He

awakened　in　Scorrier　the　uncertain　wonder　with　which　men　look

backward　at　their　uncomplicated　teens；　and　staggering　up　and　down　the

decks　in　the　long　Atlantic　roll；　he　would　steal　glances　at　his

companion；　as　if　he　expected　to　find　out　from　them　something　about

himself。　　Pippin　had　still　〃King〃　Pippin's　bright；　fine　hair；　and

dazzling　streaks　in　his　short　beard；　he　had　still　a　bright　colour　and

suave　voice；　and　what　there　were　of　wrinkles　suggested　only

subtleties　of　humour　and　ironic　sympathy。　　From　the　first；　and

apparently　without　negotiation；　he　had　his　seat　at　the　captain's

table；　to　which　on　the　second　day　Scorrier　too　found　himself

translated；　and　had　to　sit；　as　he　expressed　it　ruefully；　〃among　the

big…wigs。〃



During　the　voyage　only　one　incident　impressed　itself　on　Scorrier's

memory；　and　that　for　a　disconcerting　reason。　　In　the　forecastle　were

the　usual　complement　of　emigrants。　　One　evening；　leaning　across　the

rail　to　watch　them；　he　felt　a　touch　on　his　arm；　and；　looking　round；

saw　Pippin's　face　and　beard　quivering　in　the　lamplight。　　〃Poor

people！〃　he　said。　　The　idea　flashed　on　Scorrier　that　he　was　like　some

fine　wire　sound…recording　instrument。



'Suppose　he　were　to　snap！'　he　thought。　　Impelled　to　justify　this

fancy；　he　blurted　out：　〃You're　a　nervous　chap。　　The　way　you　look　at

those　poor　devils！〃



Pippin　hustled　him　along　the　deck。　　〃Come；　come；　you　took　me　off　my

guard；〃　he　murmured；　with　a　sly；　gentle　smile；　〃that's　not　fair。〃



He　found　it　a　continual　source　of　wonder　that　Pippin；　at　his　age；

should　cut　himself　adrift　from　the　associations　and　security　of

London　life　to　begin　a　new　career　in　a　new　country　with　dubious

prospect　of　success。　　'I　always　heard　he　was　doing　well　all　round；'

he　thought；　'thinks　he'll　better　himself；　perhaps。　　He's　a　true

Cornishman。'



The　morning　of　arrival　at　the　mines　was　grey　and　cheerless；　a　cloud

of　smoke；　beaten　down　by　drizzle；　clung　above　the　forest；　the　wooden

houses　straggled　dismally　in　the　unkempt　semblance　of　a　street；

against　a　background　of　endless；　silent　woods。　　An　air　of　blank

discouragement　brooded　over　everything；　cranes　jutted　idly　over　empty

trucks；　the　long　jetty　oozed　black　slime；　miners　with　listless　faces

stood　in　the　rain；　dogs　fought　under　their　very　legs。　　On　the　way　to

the　hotel　they　met　no　one　busy　or　serene　except　a　Chinee　who　was

polishing　a　dish…cover。



The　late　superintendent；　a　cowed　man；　regaled　them　at　lunch　with　his

forebodings；　his　attitude　toward　the　situation　was　like　the　food；

which　was　greasy　and　uninspiring。　　Alone　together　once　more；　the　two

newcomers　eyed　each　other　sadly。



〃Oh　dear！〃　sighed　Pippin。　　〃We　must　change　all　this；　Scorrier；　it

will　never　do　to　go　back　beaten。　　I　shall　not　go　back　beaten；　you

will　have　to　carry　me　on　my　shield；〃　and　slyly：　〃Too　heavy；　eh？　　Poor

fellow！〃　　Then　for　a　long　time　he　was　silent；　moving　his　lips　as　if

adding　up　the　cost。　　Suddenly　he　sighed；　and　grasping　Scorrier's　arm；

said：　〃Dull；　aren't　I？　　What　will　you　do？　　Put　me　in　your　report；

'New　Superintendentsad；　dull　dognot　a　word　to　throw　at　a　cat！'〃

And　as　if　the　new　task　were　too　much　for　him；　he　sank　back　in

thought。　　The　last　words　he　said　to　Scorrier　that　night　were：　〃Very

silent　here。　　It's　hard　to　believe　one's　here　for　life。　　But　I　feel　I

am。　　Mustn't　be　a　coward；　though！〃　and　brushing　his　forehead；　as

though　to　clear　from　it　a　cobweb　of　faint　thoughts；　he　hurried　off。



Scorrier　stayed　on　the　veranda　smoking。　　The　rain　had　ceased；　a　few

stars　were　burning　dimly；　even　above　the　squalor　of　the　township　the

scent　of　the　forests；　the　interminable　forests；　brooded。　　There

sprang　into　his　mind　the　memory　of　a　picture　from　one　of　his

children's　fairy　booksthe　picture　of　a　little　bearded　man　on

tiptoe；　with　poised　head　and　a　great　sword；　slashing　at　the　castle　of

a　giant。　　It　reminded　him　of　Pippin。　　And　suddenly；　even　to　Scorrier…

…whose　existence　was　one　long　encounter　with　strange　placesthe

unseen　presence　of　those　woods；　their　heavy；　healthy　scent；　the

little　sounds；　like　squeaks　from　tiny　toys；　issuing　out　of　the　gloomy

silence；　seemed　intolerable；　to　be　shunned；　from　the　mere　instinct　of

self…preservation。　　He　thought　of　the　evening　he　had　spent　in　the

bosom　of　〃Down…by…the…starn〃　Hemmings'　family；　receiving　his　last

instructionsthe　security　of　that　suburban　villa；　its　discouraging

gentility；　the　superior　acidity　of　the　Miss　Hemmings；　the　noble　names

of　large　contractors；　of　company　promoters；　of　a　peer；　dragged　with

the　lightness　of　gun…carriages　across　the　conversation；　the　autocracy

of　Hemmings；　rasped　up　here　and　there；　by　some　domestic

contradiction。　　It　was　all　so　nice　and　safeas　if　the　whole　thing

had　been　fastened　to　an　anchor　sunk　beneath　the　pink　cabbages　of　the

drawing…room　carpet！　　Hemmings；　seeing　him　off　the　premises；　had　said

with　secrecy：　〃Little　Pippin　will　have　a　good　thing。　　We　shall　make

his　salary　L。　　He'll　be　a　great　man…quite　a　king。　　Ha…ha！〃



Scorrier　shook　the　ashes　from　his　pipe。　　'Salary！'　he　thought；

straining　his　ears；　'I　wouldn't　take　the　place　for　five　thousand

pounds　a　year。　　And　yet　it's　a　fine　country；'　and　with　ironic

violence　he　repeated；　'a　dashed　fine　country！'



Ten　days　later；　having　finished　his　report　on　the　new　mine；　he　stood

on　the　jetty　waiting　to　go　abroad　the　steamer　for　home。



〃God　bless　you！〃　said　Pippin。　　〃Tell　them　they　needn't　be　afraid；　and

sometimes　when　you're　at　home　think　of　me；　eh？〃



Scorrier；　scrambling　on　board；　had　a　confused　memory　of　tears　in　his

eyes；　and　a　convulsive　handshake。









II



It　was　eight　years　before　the　wheels　of　life　carried　Scorrier　back　to

that　disenchanted　spot；　and　this　time　not　on　the　business　of　the　New

Colliery　Company。　　He　went　for　another　company　with　a　mine　some

thirty　miles　away。　　Before　starting；　however；　he　visited　Hemmings。

The　secretary　was　surrounded　by　pigeon…holes　and　finer　than　ever；

Scorrier　blinked　in　the　full　radiance　of　his　courtesy。　　A　little　man

with　eyebrows　full　of　questions；　and　a　grizzled　beard；　was　seated　in

an　arm…chair　by　the　fire。



〃You　know　Mr。　Booker；〃　said　Hemmings〃one　of　my　directors。　　This　is

Mr。　Scorrier；　sirwho　went　out　for　us。〃



These　sentences　were　murmured　in　a　way　suggestive　of　their　uncommon

value。　　The　director　uncrossed　his　legs；　and　bowed。　　Scorrier　also

bowed；　and　Hemmings；　leaning　back；　slowly　developed　the　full

resources　of　his　waistcoat。



〃So　you　are　going　out　again；　Scorrier；　for　the　other　side？　　I　tell

Mr。　Scorrier；　sir；　that　he　is　going　out　for　the　enemy。　　Don't　find

them　a　mine　as　good　as　you　found　us；　there's　a　good　man。〃



The　little　director　asked　explosively：　〃See　our　last　dividend？

Twenty　per　cent；　eh；　what？〃



Hemmings　moved　a　finger；　as　if　reproving　his　director。　　〃I　will　not

disguise　from　you；〃　he　murmured；　〃that　there　is　friction　between　us

andthe　enemy；　you　know　our　position　too　welljust　a　little　too

well；　eh？　　'A　nod's　as　good　as　a　wink。'〃



His　diplomatic　eyes　flattered　Scorrier；　who　passed　a　hand　over　his

browand　said：　〃Of　course。〃



〃Pippin　doesn't　hit　it　off　with　them。　　B