the captives-第1部分

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The　Captives

by　Hugh　Walpole





TO

ARNOLD　BENNETT

WITH　DEEP　AFFECTION



　〃I　confess　that　I　do　not　see　why　the　very　existence　of　an　invisible　world　may　not　in　part　depend　on　the　personal　response　which　any　of　us　may　make　to　the　religious　appeal。　God　Himself；　in　short；　may　draw　vital　strength　and　increase　of　very　being　from　our　fidelity。　For　my　own　part　I　do　not　know　what　the　sweat　and　blood　and　tragedy　of　this　life　mean；　if　they　mean　anything　short　of　this。　If　this　life　be　not　a　real　fight；　in　which　something　is　eternally　gained　for　the　universe　by　success；　it　is　no　better　than　a　game　of　private　theatricals　from　which　one　may　withdraw　at　will。　But　it　feels　like　a　real　fightas　if　there　were　something　really　wild　in　the　universe　which　we；　with　all　our　idealities　and　faithlessness；　are　needed　to　redeem；　and　first　of　all　to　redeem　our　own　hearts　from　atheisms　and　fears　。　。　。〃


WILLIAM　JAMES







CONTENTS

PART　I：　BEGINNING　OF　THE　JOURNEY

　　　I　　　DEATH　OF　THE　REV。　CHARLES　CARDINAL　　　II　　　AUNT　ANNE　　III　　　THE　LONDON　HOUSE　　　IV　　　THE　CHAPEL


PART　II：　THE　CHARIOT　OF　FIRE

　　　I　　　THE　WARLOCKS　　　II　　　EXPECTATION　　III　　　MAGGIE　AND　MARTIN　　　IV　　　MR。　CRASHAW　　　　V　　　THE　CHOICE　　　VI　　　THE　PROPHET　IN　HIS　OWN　HOME　　VII　　　THE　OUTSIDE　WORLD　VIII　　　PARADISE　　　IX　　　THE　INSIDE　SAINTS　　　　X　　　THE　PROPHET　　　XI　　　THE　CHARIOT　OF　FIRE


PART　III：　THE　WITCH

　　　I　　　THE　THREE　VISITS　　　II　　　PLUNGE　INTO　THE　OTHER　HALF　　III　　　SKEATON…ON…SEA　　　IV　　　GRACE　　　　V　　　THE　BATTLE　OF　SKEATON：　FIRST　YEAR　　　VI　　　THE　BATTLE　OF　SKEATON：　SECOND　YEAR　　VII　　　DEATH　OF　AUNT　ANNE　VIII　　　DEATH　OF　UNCLE　MATHEW　　　IX　　　SOUL　OF　PAUL　　　　X　　　THE　REVIVAL


PAET　IV：　THE　JOURNEY　HOME　AGAIN

　　　I　　　THE　DARK　ROOM　　　II　　　HOBGOBLINS　　III　　　THE　TRIUMPH　OF　LIFE







PART　I

BEGINNING　OF　THE　JOURNEY


CHAPTER　I

DEATH　OF　THE　REV。　CHARLES　CARDINAL


Death　leapt　upon　the　Rev。　Charles　Cardinal；　Rector　of　St。　Dreots　in　South　Glebeshire；　at　the　moment　that　he　bent　down　towards　the　second　long　drawer　of　his　washhand…stand；　he　bent　down　to　find　a　clean　collar。　It　is　in　its　way　a　symbol　of　his　whole　life；　that　death　claimed　him　before　he　could　find　one。

At　one　moment　his　mind　was　intent　upon　his　collar；　at　the　next　he　was　stricken　with　a　wild　surmise；　a　terror　that　even　at　that　instant　he　would　persuade　himself　was　exaggerated。　He　saw　before　his　clouding　eyes　a　black　pit。　A　strong　hand　striking　him　in　the　middle　of　his　back　flung　him　contemptuously　forward　into　it；　a　gasping　cry　of　protest　and　all　was　over。　Had　time　been　permitted　him　he　would　have　stretched　out　a　hand　towards　the　shabby　black　box　that；　true　to　all　miserly　convention；　occupied　the　space　beneath　his　bed。　Time　was　not　allowed　him。　He　might　take　with　him　into　the　darkness　neither　money　nor　clean　clothing。

He　had　been　told　on　many　occasions　about　his　heart；　that　he　must　not　excite　nor　strain　it。　He　allowed　that　to　pass　as　he　allowed　many　other　things　because　his　imagination　was　fixed　upon　one　ambition；　and　one　alone。　He　had　made；　upon　this　last　and　fatal　occasion；　haste　to　find　his　collar　because　the　bell　had　begun　its　Evensong　clatter　and　he　did　not　wish　to…night　to　be　late。　The　bell　continued　to　ring　and　he　lay　his　broad　widespread　length　upon　the　floor。　He　was　a　large　and　dirty　man。

The　shabby　old　house　was　occupied　with　its　customary　life。　Down　in　the　kitchen　Ellen　the　cook　was　snatching　a　moment　from　her　labours　to　drink　a　cup　of　tea。　She　sat　at　the　deal　table；　her　full　bosom　pressed　by　the　boards；　her　saucer　balanced　on　her　hand；　she　blew；　with　little　heaving　pants；　at　her　tea　to　cool　it。　Her　thoughts　were　with　a　new　hat　and　some　red　roses　with　which　she　would　trim　it；　she　looked　out　with　little　shivers　of　content　at　the　falling　winter's　dusk：　Anne　the　kitchen…maid　scoured　the　pans；　her　bony　frame　seemed　to　rattle　as　she　scrubbed　with　her　red　hands；　she　was　happy　because　she　was　hungry　and　there　would　be　a　beef…steak　pudding　for　dinner。　She　sang　to　herself　as　she　worked。

Upstairs　in　the　dining…room　Maggie　Cardinal；　the　only　child　of　the　Rev。　Charles；　sat　sewing。　She　hoard　the　jangling　of　the　church　hell；　she　heard　also；　suddenly；　with　a　surprise　that　made　her　heart　beat　for　a　moment　with　furious　leaps；　a　tapping　on　the　window…pane。　Then　directly　after　that　she　fancied　that　there　came　from　her　father's　room　above　the　thud　of　some　sudden　fall　or　collapse。　She　listened。　The　bell　swallowed　all　other　noise。　She　thought　that　she　had　been　mistaken；　but　the　tapping　at　the　window　began　again；　now　insistent；　the　church　bell　suddenly　stopped　and　in　the　silence　that　followed　one　could　hear　the　slight　creak　of　some　bough　driven　by　the　sea…wind　against　the　wall。

The　curtains　were　not　drawn　and　where　the　curve　of　the　hill　fell　away　the　sky　was　faintly　yellow；　some　cold　stars　like　points　of　ice　pierced　the　higher　blue；　carelessly；　as　though　with　studied　indifference；　flakes　of　snow　fell；　turning　grey　against　the　lamp…lit　windows；　then　vanishing　utterly。　Maggie；　going　to　the　window；　saw　a　dark　shapeless　figure　beyond　the　glass。　For　an　instant　she　was　invaded　by　the　terror　of　her　surprised　loneliness；　then　she　remembered　her　father　and　the　warm　kitchen；　then　realised　that　this　figure　in　the　dark　must　be　her　Uncle　Mathew。

She　went　out　into　the　hall；　pushed　back　the　stiff；　clumsy　handle　of　the　door；　and　stepped　on　to　the　gravel　path。　She　called　out；　laughing：

〃Come　in！　You　frightened　me　out　of　my　life。〃

As　he　came　towards　her　she　felt　the　mingled　kindness　and　irritation　that　he　always　roused　in　her。　He　stood　in　the　light　of　the　hall　lamp；　a　fat　man；　a　soft　hat　pushed　to　the　back　of　his　head；　a　bag　in　one　hand。　His　face　was　weak　and　good…tempered；　his　eyes　had　once　been　fine　but　now　they　were　dim　and　blurred；　there　were　dimples　in　his　fat　cheeks；　he　wore　on　his　upper　lip　a　ragged　and　untidy　moustache　and　he　had　two　indeterminate　chins。　His　expression　was　mild；　kindly；　now　a　little　ashamed；　now　greatly　indignant。　It　was　a　pity；　as　he　often　said；　that　he　had　not　more　control　over　his　feelings。　Maggie　saw　at　once　that　he　was；　as　usual；　a　little　drunk。

〃Well；〃　she　said。　〃Come　in；　Uncle。　Father　is　in　church；　I　think；〃　she　added。

Uncle　Mathew　stepped　with　careful　deliberation　into　the　hall；　put　his　bag　on　a　chair；　and　began　a　long；　rambling　explanation。

〃You　know；　Maggie；　that　I　would　have　sent　you　a　post　card　if　I　had　had　an　idea；　but；　upon　my　soul；　there　I　was　suddenly　in　Drymouth　on　important　business。　I　thought　to　myself　on　waking　this　morningI　took　a　room　at　the　'Three　Tuns''Why；　there　are　Charles　and　Maggie　whom　I　haven't　seen　for　an　age。'　I'd　have　sent　you　a　telegram　but　the　truth　is；　my　dear；　that　I　didn't　want　to　spend　a　penny　more　than　I　must。　Things　haven't　been　going　so　well　with　me　of　late。　It's　a　long　story。　I　want　your　father's　advice。　I've　had　the　worst　of　luck　and　I　could　tell　you　one　or　two　things　that　would　simply　surprise　youbut　anyway；　there　it　is。　Just　for　a　night　I'm　sure　you　won't　mind。　To…morrow　or　the　day　after　I　must　be　back　in　town　or　this　thing　will　slip　right　through　my　fingers。　These　days　one　must　be　awake　or　one's　simply　nowhere。〃

He　paused　and　nodded　his　head　very　solemnly　at　her；　looking；　as　he　did　so；　serious　and　important。

It　was　thus　that　he　always　appeared；　〃for　one　night　only；〃　but　staying　for　weeks　and　weeks　in　spite　of　the　indignant　protests　of　his　brother　Charles　who　had　never　liked　him　and　grudged　the　expense　of　his　visits。　Maggie　herself　took　his　appearance　as　she　did　everything　else　in　her　life　with　good…tempered　philosophy。　She　had　an　affection　for　her　uncle；　she　wished　that　he　did　not　drink　so　much；　but　had　he　made　a　success　of　life　she　would　not　have　cared　for　him　as　she　did。　After　all　every　one　had　their　weaknesses　。　。　。

She　steered　her　uncle　into　the　dining…room　and　placed　him　on　a　chair　beside　the　fire。　In　all　his　movements　he　attempted　restraints　and　dignity　because　he　knew　that　he　was　drunk　but　hoped　that　his　niece；　in　spite　of　her　long　experience　of　him；　would　not　perceive　it。　At　the　same　time　he　knew　that　she　did　perceive　it　and　would　perhaps　scold　him　about　it。　This　made　him　a　little　indignant　because；　after　all；　he　had　only　taken　the　tiniest　dropone　drop　at　Drymouth；　another　at　Liskane　station；　and　another　at　〃The　Hearty　Cow〃　at　Clinton　St。　Mary；　just　before　his　start　on　his　cold　lonely　walk　to　St。　Dreot's。　He　hoped　that　he　would　prevent　her　criticism　by　his　easy　pleasant　talk；　so　on　he　chattered。

She　sat　down　near　him　and　continuing　to　sew　smiled　at　him；　wondered　what　there　was　for　dinner　and　the　kind　of　mood　that　her　father　would　be　in　when　he　found　his　dear　brother　here。

Maggie　Cardinal；　at　the　time；　was　nineteen　years　of　age。　She　was　neither　handsome　nor　distinguished；　plain　indeed；　although　her　mild；　good…natured　eyes　had　in　their　light　a　quality　of　vitality　and　interest　that　gave　her　personality；　her　figure　was　thick　and　square…　…she　would　be　probably　stout　one　day。　She　moved　like　a　man。　Behind　the　mildness　of　her　eyes　there　was　much　character　and　resolve　in　her　carriage；　in　the　strong　neck；　the　firm　breasts；　the　mouth　resolute　and　determined。　She　had　now　the　fine　expectation　of　her　youth；　her　health；　her　optimism；　her　ignorance　of　the　world。　When　these　things　left　her　she　would　perhaps　be　a　yet　plainer　woman。　In　her　dress　she　was　not　clever。　Her　clothes　were　ugly　with　the　coarse　drab　grey　of　their　material　and　the　unskilful　workmanship　that　had　created　them。　And　yet　there　would　be　some　souls　who　would　see　in　her　health；　her　youth；　the　kind　sympathy　of　her　eyes　and　mouth；　the　high　nobility　of　her　forehead　from　which　her　hair　was　brushed　back；　an　attraction　that　might　hold　them　more　deeply　than　an　obvious　beauty。

Uncle　Mathew　although　he　was　a　silly　man　was　one　of　these　perceptive　souls；　and　had　he　not　been　compelled　by　his　circumstances　to　think　continually　about　himself；　would　have　loved　his　niece　very　dearly。　As　it　was；　he　thought　her　a　fine　girl　when　he　thought　of　her　at　all；　and　wished　her　more　success　in　life　than　her　〃poor　old　uncle〃　had　had。　He　looked　at　her　now　across　the　fireplace　with　satisfaction。　She　was　something　sure　and　pleasant　in　a　world　that　swayed　and　was　uncertain。　He　was　drunk　enough　to　feel　happy　so　long　as　he　was　not　scolded。　He　dreaded　the　moment　when　his　brot