jeremy-第19部分

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little　with　the　tide；　one　light　gleaming　and　swinging　against　the
pale　glow　of　the　dusky　horizon。　The　church　clock　struck　four　below
the　hill；　he　was　still　on　the　high　road　waiting；　his　eyes　straining
for　figures。　。　。　He　was　prepared　for　some　journey；　because　he　had　at
his　feet　a　bundle。　And　he　knew　that　he　ought　not　to　be　there。　He
knew　that　something　awful　was　about　to　happen　and　that；　when　it　had
occurred；　he　would　be　committed　always　to　something　or　someone。　。　。
A　little　cold　breeze　then　would　rise　in　the　hedges　and　against　the
silence　that　followed　the　chiming　of　the　clock　he　could　hear　first
the　bleating　of　a　sheep；　then　a　sudden　pounding　of　the　sea　as　though
the　breakers　responded　to　the　sudden　rising　of　the　wind；　then　the
hoofs　of　a　horse；　clear　and　hard；　upon　the　road。　。　。　At　that　moment
the　picture　clouded　and　was　dim。　Had　this　been　a　dream？　Was　it
simply　a　confusion　of　summer　visits　to　Rafiel；　stories　told　him　by
Mary；　pictures　in　books　（a　fine　illustrated　edition　of　〃Redgauntlet〃
had　been　a　treasure　to　him　since　he　was　a　baby）；　the　exciting　figure
of　the　Captain；　and　the　beginning　of　spring？　And　yet　the　vision　was
so　vividly　detailed　that　it　was　precisely　like　a　remembered　event。
He　had　always　seen　things　in　pictures；　punishment　meant　standing　in
the　corner　counting　the　ships　on　the　wallpaper；　summer　holidays
meant　the　deep　green　meadows　of　Cow　Farm；　or　a　purple　pool　under　an
afternoon　sun；　religion　meant　walking　up　the　great　wide　aisle　of　the
Cathedral　in　creaking　boots　and　clean　underclothes；　and　so　on。　It
was　nothing　new　for　him　to　make　a　picture；　and　to　let　that　picture
stand　for　a　whole　complex　phase　of　life。　But　this？　What　had　it　to　do
with　the　Sea…Captain；　aud　why　was　it；　as　he　knew　in　his　heart　that
it　was；　wicked　and　wrong　and　furtive？　For　this　had　begun　as　a　high
adventurous　romance。　There　had　been　nothing　wrong　in　that　first　talk
in　the　Meads；　when　the　Captain　had　shown　him　the　tatooes。　The
wickedness　of　it　had　developed　partly　with　his　growing　longing　to
see　the　Captain　again；　partly　with　the　meeting　that　actually
followed；　and　partly　with　the　sense　that　grew　and　grew　as　the　days
passed　that　the　Captain　was　always　watching　him。

The　Captain；　during　these　weeks；　seemed　to　be　everywhere。　Never　was
there　an　afternoon　that　Jeremy　walked　out　with　Miss　Jones　and　his
sisters　that　he　did　not　appear。　It　was　not　very　difficult　to　snatch
a　conversation　with　him。　Because　the　beauty　of　the　spring　weather
continued；　the　children　went　every　day　for　a　walk　in　the　Meads；　and
on　at　least　three　separate　occasions　Jeremy　and　the　Captain　enjoyed
quite　long　conversations　together。　These　were；　none　of　them；　so　good
as　that　first　one　had　been。　The　Captain　was　not　so　genial；　nor　so
light…hearted；　it　seemed　that　he　had　something　on　his　mind。
Sometimes　he　put　his　hand　on　Jeremy's　shoulder；　and　the　heavy
pressure　of　his　great　fingers　made　Jeremy　tremble；　partly　with
terror；　partly　with　pleasure。　His　face；　also；　was　scarcely　so
agreeable　as　it　had　seemed　at　first　sight。　His　tremendous　nose
seemed　to　burn　down　upon　Jeremy　like　a　malignant　fire。　His　eyes　were
so　small　that　sometimes　they　disappeared　under　his　fat　cheeks
altogether；　or　only　gleamed　like　little　sharp　points　of　light　from
under　his　heavy；　shaggy　eyebrows。　Then；　although　he　tried　to　make
his　voice　pleasant；　Jeremy　felt　that　that　complaisant　friendliness
was　not　his　natural　tone。　Sometimes　there　would　be　a　sharp；　barking
note　that　made　Jeremy　jump　and　his　cheek　pale。　The　Captain　told　him
no　more　fascinating　stories；　and　when　Jeremy　wanted　to　know　about
the　ship　with　the　diamonds　and　rubies　and　the　little　sea　village
where　she　lay　hid　and　the　Caribbees　natives；　and　the　chances　of
becoming　a　cabin　boy；　and　the　further　exploitation　of　the　tatooes
all　these　things　the　Captain　brushed　aside　as　though　they　no　longer
interested　him　in　the　least。　He；　on　the　other　hand；　wanted　now　to
know　exactly　where　Jeremy　lived；　what　the　house　was　like；　where　the
back　doors　were；　how　the　windows　opened；　where　Jeremy　slept；　and　so
on。　Jeremy；　pleased　at　this　interest　in　his　daily　life；　told　him　as
many　things　as　he　could；　hoping　to　pass　on　afterwards　to　more
exciting　topics；　how；　for　instance；　the　kitchen　windows　were
fastened　always　last　thing　at　night；　but　you　could　undo　them　from
the　garden　if　you　liked　with　your　knife；　and　Jeremy　knew　this
because　Uncle　Samuel　had　done　it　once　on　a　Sunday　afternoon　when　the
maids　were　all　out　and　he'd　forgotten　his　door　key。　He　would　have
told　the　Captain　all　about　the　schoolroom　and　the　toy　village　and
the　Jampot　and　the　fun　they　had　had　teasing　Miss　Jones　had　not；　the
Captain　fiercely　told　him　that　these　things　did　not　interest　him；
and　that　he　had　better　just　answer　the　questions　that　were　put　to
him。　It　was　indeed　strange　to　see　how；　with　every　interview；　the
Captain　grew　fiercer　and　fiercer　and　sharper　and　sharper。　He　made　no
allusions　now　to　〃'is　little　nipper；〃　said　nothing　about　that　holy
soul　his　mother；　and　never　mentioned　his　liking　for　Jeremy。　There
was　evidently　something　on　his　mind；　and　if　he　had　seemed　mysterious
at　their　first　meeting　it　was　nothing　to　the　secrecy　that　he
practised　now。

And　yet；　in　spite　of　all　this；　his　hold　over　Jeremy　grew　and　grew。
That　dream　of　the　bending　white　road　was　always　with　Jeremy。　He
could　think　of　nothing　but　the　Captain；　and　while　he　was　certainly
afraid　and　would　jump　at　the　slightest　sound；　he　was　also　certainly
excited　beyond　all　earlier　experience。　He　longed；　as　he　lay　awake　at
night；　to　see　the　Captain。　He　seemed　to　have　always　in　front　of　his
eyes　the　great　wall　of　a　chest　with　the　blue　ship　on　it；　and　the
bolster　legs；　and　the　gigantic　hands。　Strangest　of　all　was　the　sense
of　evil　that　came　with　the　attraction。

He　longed　to　be　in　the　man's　company　as　he　longed　to　do　something
that　he　had　been　always　told　not　to　do；　and　when　he　caught　sight　of
him　a　sudden；　hot；　choking　hand　was　pressed　upon　his　heart；　and　he
was　terrified；　delighted；　frightened；　ashamed；　all　in　one。　The
Captain　always　alluded　to　the　things　that　he　would　tell　him；　would
show　him　one　day〃When　you　come　to　my　little　place　I'll　teach　yer　a
thing　or　two〃and　Jeremy　would　wonder　for　hours　what　this　little
place　would　be　like　and　what　the　Captain　would　teach　him。　Meanwhile；
he　saw　him　everywhere；　even　when　he　was　not　therebehind　lamp…
posts；　at　street　corners；　behind　the　old　woman's　umbrella　in　the
market…place；　peering　round　the　statues　in　the　Cathedral；　jerking　up
his　head　from　behind　chimney　pots；　looking　through　the　nursery
windows　just　when　dusk　was　coming　on；　in　the　passages；　under　stairs；
out　in　the　dark　gardenand　always　behind　him　that　horrid　dream　of
the　dead…　white　road　and　the　shingly　Cove。　。　。　Yes；　poor　Jeremy　was
truly　haunted。




IV


That　Miss　Jones　suspected　nothing　of　these　meetings　must　be
attributed　partly　to　that　lady's　habit　of　wrapping　herself　in　her
own　thoughts　on　her　walks　abroad；　and　partly　to　her　natural　short…
sightedness。　Once　Mary　said　that　she　had　noticed　〃a　horrid　man　with
a　red　face〃　staring　at　them；　but　Miss　Jones；　although　she　was　not　a
vain　woman；　thought　it　nevertheless　quite　natural　that　men　should
stare；　and　fancied　more　frequently　that　they　did　so　than　was
strictly　the　truth。

Jeremy；　meanwhile；　was　occupied　now　with　the　thought　as　to　what　he
would　do　did　the　Captain　really　want　him　to　go　away　with　him。　He
discussed　it　with　himself；　but　he　did　not　doubt　what　he　would　do；　he
would　go。　And　he　would　go；　he　knew；　with　fear　and　dread；　and　with　a
longing　to　stay；　and　be　warm　in　the　schoolroom；　and　have　jam　for
tea；　and　half　an　hour　before　bedtime　downstairs；　and　Yorkshire
pudding　on　Sundays。　But　the　Captain　could　make　him　do　anything。　。　。
Yes；　the　Captain　could　make　him　do　anything。　。　。

His　afternoon　walks　now　were　prolonged　agonies。　He　would　turn　his
head　at　every　moment；　would　stare　into　dark　corners；　would　start　at
the　sound　of　steps。　His　sleep　now　was　broken　with　horrid　dreams；　and
he　would　jump　up　and　cry　out；　and　one　night　he　actually　dreamt　of
his　dead…white　road　and　the　sounds　that　came　up　from　below　the　hill；
the　bell　and　the　sea；　and　the　distant　rattle　of　the　little　carts。

Then　the　Captain　drew　near　to　the　very　house　itself。　He　haunted
Orange　Street；　could　be　seen　lounging　against　a　lamp…post　opposite
the　High　School；　looked　once　into　the　very　garden　of　the　Coles；
Jeremy　watching　him　with　beating　heart　from　the　schoolroom　window。
It　was　incredible　to　Jeremy　that　no　one　else　of　the　house　perceived
him；　but　no　one　ever　mentioned　him；　and　this　made　it　appear　all　the
more　a　dream；　as　though　the　Captain　were　invisible　to　everyone　save
himself。　He　began　to　hate　him　even　more　than　he　feared　him；　and　yet
with　that　hatred　the　pleasure　and　excitement　remained。　I　remember
how；　years　ago　in　Polchester；　when　I　could　not　have　been　more　than
six　years　old；　I　myself　was　haunted　with　exactly　that　same　mixture
of　pleasure　and　horror　by　the　figure　of　a　hunch…backed　pedlar　who
used　to　come　to　our　town。　Many　years　after　I　heard　that　he　had　been
hung　for　the　murder　of　some　wretched　woman　who　had　accompanied　him
on　some　of　his　journeys。　I　was　not　surprised；　but　when　I　heard　the
story　I　felt　then　again　the　old　thrill　of　mingled　pleasure　and　fear。

One　windy　afternoon；　near　dusk；　when　they　were　returning　from　their
walk；　Jeremy　suddenly　heard　the　voice　in　his　ear：

〃I　may　be　coming　to　visit　yer　one　o'　these　nights。　Keep　yer　eyes
open　and　yer　tongue　quiet　if　I　do。〃

Jeremy　saw　the　figures　of　Miss　Jones　and　his　sisters　pass　round　the
corner　of　the　road。

〃What　for？〃　he　gasped。

The　Captain's　figure　seemed　to　swell　gigantic　against　the　white
light　of　the　fading　sky。　The　wind　whistled　about　their　ears。

〃Just　to　visit　yer；　that's　all。　'Cause　I've　taken　a　fancy　to　yer。〃
The　Captain　chuckled　and　had　vanished。　。　。

Jeremy　flung　one　glance　at　the　grey　desolate　road　behind　him；　then
ran　for　his　life　to　join　the　others。

What；　after　that；　did　he　expect？　He　did　not　know。　Only　the　Captain
was　drawing　closer；　and　closer；　and　closer。

He　could　feel　now　always　his　hot　breath　upon　his　ear。　Two　days　after
the　whispered　dialogue　in　the　road；　that　first　promise　of　spring
brok