tales and fantasies-第18部分

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was　pitch　dark；　here　and　there　a　white　gate　or　a　white　stone

in　the　wall　guided　them　for　a　short　space　across　the　night；

but　for　the　most　part　it　was　at　a　foot　pace；　and　almost

groping；　that　they　picked　their　way　through　that　resonant

blackness　to　their　solemn　and　isolated　destination。　　In　the

sunken　woods　that　traverse　the　neighbourhood　of　the　burying…

ground　the　last　glimmer　failed　them；　and　it　became　necessary

to　kindle　a　match　and　re…illumine　one　of　the　lanterns　of　the

gig。　　Thus；　under　the　dripping　trees；　and　environed　by　huge

and　moving　shadows；　they　reached　the　scene　of　their

unhallowed　labours。



They　were　both　experienced　in　such　affairs；　and　powerful　with

the　spade；　and　they　had　scarce　been　twenty　minutes　at　their

task　before　they　were　rewarded　by　a　dull　rattle　on　the　coffin

lid。　　At　the　same　moment　Macfarlane；　having　hurt　his　hand

upon　a　stone；　flung　it　carelessly　above　his　head。　　The　grave；

in　which　they　now　stood　almost　to　the　shoulders；　was　close　to

the　edge　of　the　plateau　of　the　graveyard；　and　the　gig　lamp

had　been　propped；　the　better　to　illuminate　their　labours；

against　a　tree；　and　on　the　immediate　verge　of　the　steep　bank

descending　to　the　stream。　　Chance　had　taken　a　sure　aim　with

the　stone。　　Then　came　a　clang　of　broken　glass；　night　fell

upon　them；　sounds　alternately　dull　and　ringing　announced　the

bounding　of　the　lantern　down　the　bank；　and　its　occasional

collision　with　the　trees。　　A　stone　or　two；　which　it　had

dislodged　in　its　descent；　rattled　behind　it　into　the

profundities　of　the　glen；　and　then　silence；　like　night；

resumed　its　sway；　and　they　might　bend　their　hearing　to　its

utmost　pitch；　but　naught　was　to　be　heard　except　the　rain；　now

marching　to　the　wind；　now　steadily　falling　over　miles　of　open

country。



They　were　so　nearly　at　an　end　of　their　abhorred　task　that

they　judged　it　wisest　to　complete　it　in　the　dark。　　The　coffin

was　exhumed　and　broken　open；　the　body　inserted　in　the

dripping　sack　and　carried　between　them　to　the　gig；　one

mounted　to　keep　it　in　its　place；　and　the　other；　taking　the

horse　by　the　mouth；　groped　along　by　wall　and　bush　until　they

reached　the　wider　road　by　the　Fisher's　Tryst。　　Here　was　a

faint；　diffused　radiancy；　which　they　hailed　like　daylight；　by

that　they　pushed　the　horse　to　a　good　pace　and　began　to　rattle

along　merrily　in　the　direction　of　the　town。



They　had　both　been　wetted　to　the　skin　during　their

operations；　and　now；　as　the　gig　jumped　among　the　deep　ruts；

the　thing　that　stood　propped　between　them　fell　now　upon　one

and　now　upon　the　other。　　At　every　repetition　of　the　horrid

contact　each　instinctively　repelled　it　with　the　greater

haste；　and　the　process；　natural　although　it　was；　began　to

tell　upon　the　nerves　of　the　companions。　　Macfarlane　made　some

ill…favoured　jest　about　the　farmer's　wife；　but　it　came

hollowly　from　his　lips；　and　was　allowed　to　drop　in　silence。

Still　their　unnatural　burden　bumped　from　side　to　side；　and

now　the　head　would　be　laid；　as　if　in　confidence；　upon　their

shoulders；　and　now　the　drenching　sack…cloth　would　flap　icily

about　their　faces。　　A　creeping　chill　began　to　possess　the

soul　of　Fettes。　　He　peered　at　the　bundle；　and　it　seemed

somehow　larger　than　at　first。　　All　over　the　country…side；　and

from　every　degree　of　distance；　the　farm　dogs　accompanied

their　passage　with　tragic　ululations；　and　it　grew　and　grew

upon　his　mind　that　some　unnatural　miracle　had　been

accomplished；　that　some　nameless　change　had　befallen　the　dead

body；　and　that　it　was　in　fear　of　their　unholy　burden　that　the

dogs　were　howling。



'For　God's　sake；'　said　he；　making　a　great　effort　to　arrive　at

speech；　'for　God's　sake；　let's　have　a　light！'



Seemingly　Macfarlane　was　affected　in　the　same　direction；　for；

though　he　made　no　reply；　he　stopped　the　horse；　passed　the

reins　to　his　companion；　got　down；　and　proceeded　to　kindle　the

remaining　lamp。　　They　had　by　that　time　got　no　farther　than

the　cross…road　down　to　Auchenclinny。　　The　rain　still　poured

as　though　the　deluge　were　returning；　and　it　was　no　easy

matter　to　make　a　light　in　such　a　world　of　wet　and　darkness。

When　at　last　the　flickering　blue　flame　had　been　transferred

to　the　wick　and　began　to　expand　and　clarify；　and　shed　a　wide

circle　of　misty　brightness　round　the　gig；　it　became　possible

for　the　two　young　men　to　see　each　other　and　the　thing　they

had　along　with　them。　　The　rain　had　moulded　the　rough　sacking

to　the　outlines　of　the　body　underneath；　the　head　was　distinct

from　the　trunk；　the　shoulders　plainly　modelled；　something　at

once　spectral　and　human　riveted　their　eyes　upon　the　ghastly

comrade　of　their　drive。



For　some　time　Macfarlane　stood　motionless；　holding　up　the

lamp。　　A　nameless　dread　was　swathed；　like　a　wet　sheet；　about

the　body；　and　tightened　the　white　skin　upon　the　face　of

Fettes；　a　fear　that　was　meaningless；　a　horror　of　what　could

not　be；　kept　mounting　to　his　brain。　　Another　beat　of　the

watch；　and　he　had　spoken。　　But　his　comrade　forestalled　him。



'That　is　not　a　woman；'　said　Macfarlane；　in　a　hushed　voice。



'It　was　a　woman　when　we　put　her　in；'　whispered　Fettes。



'Hold　that　lamp；'　said　the　other。　　'I　must　see　her　face。'



And　as　Fettes　took　the　lamp　his　companion　untied　the

fastenings　of　the　sack　and　drew　down　the　cover　from　the　head。

The　light　fell　very　clear　upon　the　dark；　well…moulded

features　and　smooth…shaven　cheeks　of　a　too　familiar

countenance；　often　beheld　in　dreams　of　both　of　these　young

men。　　A　wild　yell　rang　up　into　the　night；　each　leaped　from

his　own　side　into　the　roadway：　the　lamp　fell；　broke；　and　was

extinguished；　and　the　horse；　terrified　by　this　unusual

commotion；　bounded　and　went　off　toward　Edinburgh　at　a　gallop；

bearing　along　with　it；　sole　occupant　of　the　gig；　the　body　of

the　dead　and　long…dissected　Gray。







THE　STORY　OF　A　LIE







CHAPTER　I　…　INTRODUCES　THE　ADMIRAL







WHEN　Dick　Naseby　was　in　Paris　he　made　some　odd　acquaintances；

for　he　was　one　of　those　who　have　ears　to　hear；　and　can　use

their　eyes　no　less　than　their　intelligence。　　He　made　as　many

thoughts　as　Stuart　Mill；　but　his　philosophy　concerned　flesh

and　blood；　and　was　experimental　as　to　its　method。　　He　was　a

type…hunter　among　mankind。　　He　despised　small　game　and

insignificant　personalities；　whether　in　the　shape　of　dukes　or

bagmen；　letting　them　go　by　like　sea…weed；　but　show　him　a

refined　or　powerful　face；　let　him　hear　a　plangent　or　a

penetrating　voice；　fish　for　him　with　a　living　look　in　some

one's　eye；　a　passionate　gesture；　a　meaning　and　ambiguous

smile；　and　his　mind　was　instantaneously　awakened。　　'There　was

a　man；　there　was　a　woman；'　he　seemed　to　say；　and　he　stood　up

to　the　task　of　comprehension　with　the　delight　of　an　artist　in

his　art。



And　indeed；　rightly　considered；　this　interest　of　his　was　an

artistic　interest。　　There　is　no　science　in　the　personal　study

of　human　nature。　　All　comprehension　is　creation；　the　woman　I

love　is　somewhat　of　my　handiwork；　and　the　great　lover；　like

the　great　painter；　is　he　that　can　so　embellish　his　subject　as

to　make　her　more　than　human；　whilst　yet　by　a　cunning　art　he

has　so　based　his　apotheosis　on　the　nature　of　the　case　that

the　woman　can　go　on　being　a　true　woman；　and　give　her

character　free　play；　and　show　littleness；　or　cherish　spite；

or　be　greedy　of　common　pleasures；　and　he　continue　to　worship

without　a　thought　of　incongruity。　　To　love　a　character　is

only　the　heroic　way　of　understanding　it。　　When　we　love；　by

some　noble　method　of　our　own　or　some　nobility　of　mien　or

nature　in　the　other；　we　apprehend　the　loved　one　by　what　is

noblest　in　ourselves。　　When　we　are　merely　studying　an

eccentricity；　the　method　of　our　study　is　but　a　series　of

allowances。　　To　begin　to　understand　is　to　begin　to

sympathise；　for　comprehension　comes　only　when　we　have　stated

another's　faults　and　virtues　in　terms　of　our　own。　　Hence　the

proverbial　toleration　of　artists　for　their　own　evil

creations。　　Hence；　too；　it　came　about　that　Dick　Naseby；　a

high…minded　creature；　and　as　scrupulous　and　brave　a　gentleman

as　you　would　want　to　meet；　held　in　a　sort　of　affection　the

various　human　creeping　things　whom　he　had　met　and　studied。



One　of　these　was　Mr。　Peter　Van　Tromp；　an　English…speaking；

two…legged　animal　of　the　international　genus；　and　by

profession　of　general　and　more　than　equivocal　utility。　　Years

before　he　had　been　a　painter　of　some　standing　in　a　colony；

and　portraits　signed　'Van　Tromp'　had　celebrated　the　greatness

of　colonial　governors　and　judges。　　In　those　days　he　had　been

married；　and　driven　his　wife　and　infant　daughter　in　a　pony

trap。　　What　were　the　steps　of　his　declension？　　No　one　exactly

knew。　　Here　he　was　at　least；　and　had　been　any　time　these　past

ten　years；　a　sort　of　dismal　parasite　upon　the　foreigner　in

Paris。



It　would　be　hazardous　to　specify　his　exact　industry。

Coarsely　followed；　it　would　have　merited　a　name　grown

somewhat　unfamiliar　to　our　ears。　　Followed　as　he　followed　it；

with　a　skilful　reticence；　in　a　kind　of　social　chiaroscuro；　it

was　still　possible　for　the　polite　to　call　him　a　professional

painter。　　His　lair　was　in　the　Grand　Hotel　and　the　gaudiest

cafes。　　There　he　might　be　seen　jotting　off　a　sketch　with　an

air　of　some　inspiration；　and　he　was　always　affable；　and　one

of　the　easiest　of　men　to　fall　in　talk　withal。　　A　conversation

usually　ripened　into　a　peculiar　sort　of　intimacy；　and　it　was

extraordinary　how　many　little　services　Van　Tromp　contrived　to

render　in　the　course　of　six…and…thirty　hours。　　He　occupied　a

position　between　a　friend　and　a　courier；　which　made　him　worse

than　embarrassing　to　repay。　　But　those　whom　he　obliged　could

always　buy　one　of　his　villainous　little　pictures；　or；　where

the　favours　had　been　prolonged　and　more　than　usually

delicate；　might　order　and　pay　for　a　large　canvas；　with

perfect　certainty　that　they　would　hear　no　more　of　the

transaction。



Among　resident　artists　he　enjoyed　celebrity　of　a　non…

professional　sor