the captives-第13部分

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man　or　their　night　out？　The　pain　to　her　knees　pierced　her　thoughts；　the　prayers　were　very　long？Aunt　Anne's　beautiful　voice　was　interminable。

Breakfast　was　quiet　and　silent。　Edward；　who　received　apparently　a　larger　meal　on　Sundays　than　at　ordinary　times；　chattered　happily　to　himself；　and　Maggie　heard　him　say　complacently；　〃Poor　Parrot？Poor　Parrot。　How　do　you　do？　How　do　you　do？〃

〃Service　is　at　eleven　o'clock；　dear；〃　said　Aunt　Anne。　〃We　leave　the　house　at　ten　minutes　to　eleven。〃

Maggie；　not　knowing　what　to　do　with　the　hour　in　front　of　her；　went　up　to　her　bedroom；　found　the　servant　making　the　bed；　came　down　into　the　drawing…room　and　sat　in　a　dark　corner　under　a　large　bead　mat；　that；　nailed　to　the　wall；　gave　little　taps　and　rustlings　as　though　it　were　trying　to　escape。

She　felt　that　she　should　be　doing　something；　but　what？　She　sat　there；　straining　her　ear　for　sounds。　〃One　always　seems　to　be　expecting　some　one　in　this　house；〃　she　thought。　The　weather　that　had　been　bright　had　now　changed　and　little　gusts　of　rain　beat　upon　the　windows。　She　thought　with　a　sudden　strange　warmth　of　Uncle　Mathew。　What　was　he　doing？　Where　was　he？　How　pleasant　it　would　be　were　he　suddenly　to　walk　into　that　chilly；　dark　room。　She　would　not　show　him　that　she　was　lonely；　but　she　would　give　him　such　a　welcome　as　he　had　never　had　from　her　before。　Had　he　money　enough？　Was　he　feeling　perhaps　as　desolate　amongst　strangers　as　she？　The　rain　tickled　the　window…panes。　Maggie；　with　a　desolation　at　her　heart　that　she　was　too　proud　to　own；　sat　there　and　waited。

She　looked　back　afterwards　upon　that　moment　as　the　last　shivering　pause　before　she　made　that　amazing　plunge　that　was　to　give　her　new　life。

The　sound　of　a　little　forlorn　bell　suddenly　penetrated　the　rain。　It　was　just　such　a　bell　as　rang　every　Sunday　from　chapels　across　the　Glebeshire　moors；　and　Maggie　knew；　when　Aunt　Elizabeth　opened　the　door　and　looked　in　upon　her；　that　the　summons　was　for　her。

〃Oh！　my　dear　（a　favourite　exclamation　of　Aunt　Elizabeth's）　and　you're　not　ready。　The　bell's　begun。　The　rain's　coming　down　very　hard；　I'm　afraid。　It's　only　a　step　from　our　door。　Your　things；　dear；　as　quick　as　you　can。〃

The　girl　ran　upstairs　and；　stayed　by　some　sudden　impulse；　stood　for　a　moment　before　the　long　mirror。　It　was　as　though　she　were　imploring　that　familiar　casual　figure　that　she　saw　there　not　to　leave　her；　the　only　friend　she　had　in　a　world　that　was　suddenly　terrifying　and　alarming。　Her　old　black　dress　that　had　seemed　almost　smart　for　the　St。　Dreot　funeral　now　appeared　most　desperately　shabby；　she　knew　that　her　black　hat　was　anything　but　attractive。

〃What　do　I　care　for　them　all！〃　her　heart　said　defiantly。　〃What　do　they　matter　to　me！〃

She　marched　out　of　the　house　behind　the　aunts　with　her　head　in　the　air；　very　conscious　of　a　hole　in　one　of　her　thin　black　gloves。

The　street；　deserted；　danced　in　the　rain；　the　little　bell　clanged　with　the　stupid　monotony　of　its　one　obstinate　idea；　the　town　wore　its　customary　Sunday　air　of　a　stage　when　the　performance　is　concluded；　the　audience　vanished　and　the　lights　turned　down。　The　aunts　had　a　solemn　air　as　though　they　were　carrying　Maggie　as　a　sacrifice。　All　these　things　were　depressing。

They　turned　out　of　their　own　street　into　a　thin；　grey　one　in　which　the　puddles　sprang　and　danced　against　isolated　milk…cans　and　a　desolate　pillar…box。　The　little　bell　was　now　loud　and　strident；　and　when　they　passed　into　a　passage　which　led　into　a　square；　rather　grimy　yard；　Maggie　saw　that　they　had　arrived。　Before　her　was　a　hideous　building；　the　colour　of　beef　badly　cooked；　with　grey　stone　streaks　in　it　here　and　there　and　thin；　narrow　windows　of　grey　glass　with　stiff；　iron　divisions　between　the　glass。　The　porch　to　the　door　was　of　the　ugliest　grey　stone　with　〃The　Lord　Cometh〃　in　big　black　letters　across　the　top　of　it。　Just　inside　the　door　was　a　muddy　red　mat；　and　near　the　mat　stood　a　gentleman　in　a　faded　frock…coat　and　brown　boots；　an　official　apparently。　There　arrived　at　the　same　time　as　Maggie　and　her　aunts　a　number　of　ladies　and　gentlemen　all　hidden　beneath　umbrellas。　As　they　stood　in　the　doorway　a　sudden　scurry　of　wind　and　rain　drove　them　all　forward　so　that　there　was　some　crush　and　confusion　in　the　little　passage　beyond　the　door。　Waterproofs　steamed；　umbrellas　were　ranged　in　dripping　disorder　against　the　wall。　The　official；　who　talked　in　a　hushed　whisper　that　was　drowned　by　the　creaking　of　his　boots；　welcomed　them　all　with　the　intimacy　of　an　old　acquaintance。　〃Oh；　Miss　Hearstterrible　weatherno；　she's　not　here　yet。〃　〃Good　morning；　Mrs。　Smithvery　glad　you're　better。　Yes；　I　spoke　to　them　about　the　prayer…books。　They　promised　to　return　them　this　morning　。　。　。〃　and　so　on。　He　turned；　pushed　back　a　door　and　led　the　way　into　the　chapel。　The　interior　was　as　ugly　as　the　outside。　The　walls　were　of　the　coldest　grey　stone；　broken　here　and　there　by　the　lighter　grey　of　a　window。　Across　the　roof　were　rafters　built　of　that　bright　shining　wood　that　belongs　intimately　to　colonial　life；　sheep…shearing；　apples　of　an　immense　size　and　brushwood。　Two　lamps　of　black　iron　hung　from　these　rafters。　At　the　farther　end　of　the　chapel　was　a　rail　of　this　same　bright　wood；　and　behind　the　rail　a　desk　and　a　chair。　In　front　of　the　rail　was　a　harmonium　before　which　was　already　seated　a　stout　and　expectant　lady；　evidently　eager　to　begin　her　duties　of　the　day。　The　chapel　was　not　very　large　and　was　already　nearly　filled。　The　congregation　was　sitting　in　absolute　silence；　so　that　the　passing　of　Maggie　and　her　aunts　up　the　aisle　attracted　great　attention。　All　eyes　were　turned　in　their　direction　and　Maggie　felt　that　she　herself　was　an　object　of　very　especial　interest。

Aunt　Anne　walked　first　and　took　what　was　obviously　her　own　regular　seat　near　the　front。　Maggie　sat　between　her　two　aunts。　She　could　not　feel　for　the　moment　anything　but　a　startled　surprise　at　the　ugliness　of　the　building。　She　had　entered　at　different　times　the　Glebeshire　chapels；　but　their　primitive　position　and　need　had　given　them　the　spirit　of　honest　sincerity。　Here　she　had　expected　she　did　not　know　what。　Always　from　those　very　early　days　when　she　had　first　heard　about　her　aunts　she　had　had　visions　of　a　strange　illuminated　place　into　which　God；　〃riding　on　a　chariot　clothed　in　flames；〃　would　one　day　come。　Even　after　she　had　grown　up　she　had　still　fancied　that　the　centre　of　her　aunts'　strange；　fantastic　religion　must　be　a　strange；　fantastic　place。　And　yet　now；　as　she　looked　around　her；　she　was　not；　to　her　own　surprise；　disappointed。　She　was　even　satisfied；　the　〃wonder〃　was　not　in　the　building。　Well；　then；　it　must　be　in　something　〃inside；〃　something　that　she　had　yet　to　discover。　The　chapel　had　the　thrilling　quality　of　a　little　plain　deal　box　that　carries　a　jewel。

She　examined　then　the　people　around　her。　Women　were　in　a　great　majority；　a　man　scattered　forlornly　amongst　them　once　and　again。　She　discovered　at　once　the　alert　eyes　of　young　Mr。　Warlock。　He　was　seated　in　the　side　aisle　with　a　thin；　severe…looking　woman　beside　him。　He　stared　straight　in　front　of　him；　wriggling　sometimes　his　broad　back　as　though　he　were　a　dog　tied　by　a　chain。　Some　one　else　very　quickly　claimed　Maggie's　attention；　this　was　a　girl　who；　in　the　seat　behind　Mr。　Warlock；　was　as　noticeable　in　that　congregation　as　a　bird…of…paradise　amongst　a　colony　of　crows。　She　was　wearing　a　dress　of　light　blue　silk　and　a　large　hat　of　blue　with　a　grey　bird　in　the　front　of　it。

Her　hair；　beneath　the　hat；　was　bright　gold；　her　cheeks　were　the　brightest　pink　and　her　eyes　sparkled　in　a　most　lovely　and　fascinating　manner。　She　was　immensely　interesting　to　Maggie；　who　had　never；　in　her　life；　dreamed　of　anything　so　dazzling。　She　was　very　restless　and　animated　and　self…conscious。　There　sat　at　her　side　a　stout　and　solemn　woman；　who　was　evidently　from　a　strange；　almost　ironical　likeness　her　mother。　The　young　lady　seemed　to　regard　both　the　place　and　the　occasion　as　the　greatest　joke　in　the　world。　She　flung　her　eyes　from　one　to　another　as　though　inviting　some　one　to　share　her　merriment。

Amongst　that　black…garbed　assembly　the　blue　dress　shone　out　as　though　it　would　attract　everything　to　itself。　〃She's　very　pretty；〃　thought　Maggie；　who　was　more　conscious　of　her　shabby　clothes　than　ever。　But　her　chief　feeling　was　of　surprise　that　so　brilliant　a　bird　had　been　able　to　penetrate　into　the　chapel　at　all。　〃She　must　be　a　stranger　just　come　out　of　curiosity。〃　Then　the　girl's　eyes　suddenly　met　Maggie's　and　held　them；　the　brilliant　creature　smiled　and　Maggie　smiled　in　return。　She　looked　afterwards　at　Aunt　Anne；　but　Aunt　Anne；　buried　in　her　book　of　devotions；　had　seen　nothing。

Suddenly；　after　a　strange　wheeze　and　muffled　scream；　the　harmonium　began。　Every　one　looked　up　expectantly；　Mr。　Warlock；　alone；　appeared　from　a　door　at　the　right　of　the　screen　and　took　his　place　behind　the　desk。

He　stood　for　a　moment　facing　them　before　he　took　his　place。　He　was　a　man　of　great　size；　old　now　but　holding　himself　absolutely　erect。　He　was　dressed　in　a　plain　black　gown　with　a　low；　white　collar　and　a　white　tie。　This　long　gown　added　to　his　height；　but　the　width　of　the　shoulders　and　neck；　and　the　carriage　of　his　head　showed　that　he　was　a　man　built　on　a　noble　scale。　His　hair　was　snow…white　and　he　wore　a　beard；　that　was　in　startling　contrast　against　his　black　gown。　His　cheeks　were　of　high　colour；　his　eyes　blue；　he　was　older　than　Maggie　had　expected　and　must；　she　thought；　be　over　seventy。　His　whole　bearing　and　behaviour　was　of　a　man　who　had　enjoyed　great　physical　health。　His　expression　was　mild　and　simple；　dignified　but　not　proud；　utterly　unconscious　of　self；　earnest　and　determined；　lacking　in　humour　perhaps。　There　was　nothing　in　the　least　theatrical　about　him　and　yet　he　conveyed　an　impression　that　was　startling　and　dramatic。　His　was　a　figure　that　would　have　been　noticed　anywhere；　if　only　for　its　physical　health　and　shining　cleanliness。　Maggie　felt　that　to　many　people　there　his　entrance　was　a　sensation；　sought　for　and　expected　by　them。　So　startling　was　the　impression　that　he　made　upon　herself　that　she　wondered　that　the　chapel　was　not　crowded　by　an　excited　throng。　She　liked　him　at　once；　felt　that　she　would　be　at　ease　with　him　as　she　had　never　been　with　anybody　in　her　life。　And　yet　behind　this　there　was　perhaps　some　subtle　sense　of　disappoint