the captives-第23部分

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ut　of　every　ten　men　and　five　out　of　every　ten　women　the　literary　page　in　the　paper　is　turned　over　with　exactly　the　same　impatience　with　which　I　turn　over　the　betting　columns。　Anyway；　why　not？　。　。　。　perfectly　right。　And　then　by　this　time　I'd　seen　my　old　books；　often　enough；　lying　scattered　amongst　dusty　piles　in　second…　hand　shops　marked；　'All　this　lot　6d。'　Hundreds　and　hundreds　of　six…　shilling　novels；　dirty；　degraded；　ashamed　。　。　。　I'd　ask；　sometimes；　when　I　was　very　young；　for　my　own　works。　'What's　the　name？　What？　Magnus？No；　don't　stock　him。　No　demand。　We　could　get　you　a　copy；　sir　。　。　。　'　There　it　is。　Why　not　laugh　at　it？　I　was　doing　perhaps　the　most　useless　thing　in　the　world。　A　commonplace　little　water…　colour；　hung　on　a　wall；　can　give　happiness　to　heaps　of　people；　a　poor　piece　of　music　can　do　a　thousand　things；　good　and　bad；　but　an　unsuccessful　noveltwenty　unsuccessful　novels！　A　whole　row；　with　the　same　history　awaiting　their　successors　。　。　。　'We　welcome　a　new　novel　by　Mr。　William　Magnus；　who　our　readers　will　remember　wrote　that　clever　story　。　。　。　The　present　work　seems　to　us　at　least　the　equal　of　any　that　have　preceded　it。'　。　。　。　A　fortnight's　advertisementDead　silence。　Some　one　in　the　Club；　'I　see　you've　written　another　book；　old　man。　You　do　turn　'em　out。'　A　letter　from　a　Press　Agency　who　has　never　heard　of　one's　name　before；　'A　little　sheaf　of　thin　miserable　cuttings。'　。　。　。　The　Sixpenny　Lot　。　。　。　Ouf！　And　still　I　go　on　and　shall　go　on　until　I　die。　Perhaps　after　all　I'm　more　justified　than　any　of　them。　I'm　stripped　of　all　reasons　save　the　pleasure；　the　thrill；　the　torment；　the　hopes；　the　despairs　of　the　work　itself。　I've　got　nothing　else　out　of　it　and　shall　get　nothing　。　。　。　and　therefore　I'm　justified。　Now　do　you　understand　a　little；　Miss　Cardinal？〃

She　half　understood。　She　understood　that　he　was　compelled　to　do　it　just　as　some　men　are　compelled　to　go　to　race　meetings　and　just　as　Uncle　Mathew　was　compelled　to　drink。

But　she　nevertheless　thought　it　a　dreadful　pity　that　he　was　unable　to　stop　and　interest　himself　in　something　else。　Then　he　could　see　it　so　plainly　and　yet　go　on！　She　admired　and　at　the　same　time　pitied　him。

It　seemed；　this　private　history　of　Mr。　Magnus；　at　first　sight　so　far　from　Maggie's　immediate　concerns；　her　new　life；　her　aunts；　the　Chapel　and　the　Chapel　world。　It　was　only　afterwards；　when　she　looked　back；　that　she　was　able　to　see　that　all　these　private　affairs　of　private　people　radiated　inwards；　like　the　spokes　of　a　wheel；　towards　the　mysterious　inner　circlethat　inner　circle　of　which　she　was　already　dimly　aware；　and　of　which　she　was　soon　to　feel　the　heat　and　light。　She　was；　meanwhile；　so　far　impressed　by　Mr。　Magnus'　confidences　that　she　borrowed　one　of　his　novels　from　Caroline；　who　confided　to　her　that　she　herself　thought　it　the　dullest　and　most　tiresome　of　works。　〃To　be　honest；　I　only　read　a　bit　of　itI　don't　know　what　it's　about。　I　think　it's　downright　silly。〃

This　book　bore　the　mysterious　title　of　〃Dredinger。〃　It　was　concerned　apparently　with　the　experiences　of　a　young　man　who；　buying　an　empty　house　in　Bloomsbury；　discovered　a　pool　of　water　in　the　cellar。　The　young　man　was　called　Dredinger；　which　seemed　to　Maggie　an　unnatural　kind　of　name。　He　had　an　irritating　habit　of　never　finishing　his　sentences；　and　the　people　he　knew　answered　him　in　the　same　inconclusive　fashion。　The　pool　in　the　cellar　naturally　annoyed　him；　but　he　did　nothing　very　practical　about　it；　allowed　it　to　remain　there；　and　discussed　it　with　a　Professor　of　Chemistry。　Beyond　this　Maggie　could　not　penetrate。　The　young　man　was　apparently　in　love　with　a　lady　much　older　than　himself；　who　wore　pince…nez；　but　it　was　an　arid　kind　of　love　in　which　the　young　man　discovered　motives　and　symptoms　with　the　same　dexterous　surprise　with　which　he　discovered　newts　and　tadpoles　in　the　cellar…pond。　Maggie　bravely　attacked　Mr。　Magnus。

〃Why　didn't　he　have　men　in　to　clear　up　the　pond　and　lay　a　new　floor？〃　she　asked。

〃That　was　just　the　point；〃　said　Mr。　Magnus。　〃He　couldn't。〃

〃Why　couldn't　he？〃

〃Weakness　of　character　and　waiting　to　see　what　would　happen。〃

〃He　talked　too　much；〃　she　answered　decisively。　〃But　are　there　houses　in　London　with　ponds　in　them　？〃

〃Lots；〃　said　Mr。　Magnus。　〃Only　the　owners　of　the　houses　don't　know　it。　There　is　a　big　pond　in　the　Chapel。　That's　what　Thurston　came　out　of。〃

This　was　beyond　Maggie　altogether。　An　agreeable　thing；　however；　about　Mr。　Magnus　was　that　he　did　not　mind　when　you　disliked　his　work。　He　seemed　to　expect　that　you　would　not　like　it。　He　was　certainly　a　very　unconceited　man。

A　more　important　and　more　interesting　theme　was　Mr。　Magnus'　reason　for　being　where　he　was。　What　was　he　doing　here？　What　led　him　to　the　Chapel　doors；　he　being　in　no　way　a　religious　man？

〃It　was　like　this；〃　he　told　her。　〃I　was　living　in　Golders　Green；　and　suddenly　one　morning　I　was　tired　of　the　country　that　wasn't　country；　and　the　butcher　boy　and　the　postman。　So　I　moved　as　far　into　the　centre　of　things　as　I　could　and　took　a　room　in　St。　Martin's　Lane　close　at　hand　here。　Then　one　evening　I　was　wandering　about；　a　desolate　Sunday　evening　when　the　town　is　given　over　to　cats。　I　suddenly　came　across　the　Chapel。　I　like　going　into　London　churches　by　chance；　there's　always　something　interesting；　something　you　wouldn't　expect。　The　Chapel　simply　astonished　me。　I　couldn't　imagine　what　they　were　all　about；　it　wasn't　the　ordinary　London　congregation；　it　was　almost　the　ordinary　London　service　and　yet　not　quite；　there　was　an　air　of　expectation　and　even　excitement　which　is　most　unusual　in　a　London　church。　Then　there　was　Warlock。　Of　course　one　could　see　at　once　that　he　was　an　extraordinary　man；　a　kind　of　prophet　all　on　his　own；　he　was　as　far　away　from　that　congregation　as　Columbus　was　from　his　crew　when　he　first　sighted　the　Indies。〃

〃I've　met　one　or　two　prophets　in　my　time；　and　their　concern　has　always　been　with　their　audience　first；　themselves　second　and　their　vision　last。　Warlock　is　the　other　way　round。　He　should　have　been　a　hermit；　not　the　leader　of　a　community。　Well；　it　interested　me。　I　came　again　and　again　。　。　。　I'm　going　to　stay　on　now　until　the　end。〃

〃The　end？〃　asked　Maggie。

〃The　end　of　myself　or　the　Chapel；　whichever　comes　first。　I　wrote　a　story　oncea　very　bad　oneabout　some　merchantswhy　merchants　I　don't　knowwho　were　flung　on　a　desert　island。　It　was　all　jungle　and　desolation；　and　then　suddenly　they　came　upon　a　little　white　Temple。　It　doesn't　matter　what　happened　afterwards。　I've　myself　forgotten　most　of　it；　but　I　remember　that　the　sailors　used　the　Temple　in　different　ways　to　keep　their　hopes　and　expectations　alive。　Their　expectations　that　one　day　a　ship　would　come　and　save　them　。　。　。　and　so　far　as　I　remember　they　became　imaginative　about　the　Temple；　and　fancied　that　the　Unknown　God　of　it　would　help　them　to　regain　their　private　affairs：　one　of　them　wanted　to　get　back　to　his　girl；　another　to　his　favourite　pub；　another　to　his　money…making；　another　to　his　collection　of　miniatures。　And　they　used　to　sit　and　look　at　the　Temple　day　after　day　and　expect　something　to　happen。　When　the　ship　came　at　last　they　wouldn't　go　into　it　because　they　couldn't　bear　to　think　that　something　should　happen　at　last　and　they　not　be　there　to　see　it。　Oh　yes；　one　of　them　went　back；　I　remember。　But　his　actual　meeting　with　his　girl　was　so　disappointing　in　comparison　with　his　long　expectation　of　it　in　front　of　the　Temple　that　he　took　the　next　boat　back　to　the　island　。　。　。　but　he　never　found　it　again。　He　travelled　everywhere　and　died；　a　disappointed　man；　at　sea。〃

Mr。　Magnus　was　fond　of　telling　little　stories；　obscure　and　pointless；　and　Maggie　supposed　that　it　was　a　literary　habit。　On　this　occasion　he　continued　to　talk　quite　naturally　for　his　own　satisfaction。　〃Yes；　one　can　make　oneself　believe　in　anything。　I　have　believed　in　all　sorts　of　things。　In　England；　of　course；　people　have　believed　in　nothing　except　that　things　will　always　be　as　they　always　have　beena　useful　belief　considering　that　things　have　never　been　as　they　always　were。　In　the　old　days；　when　the　Boer　War　hadn't　interfered　with　tradition；　it　must　have　seemed　to　any　one　who　wasn't　a　young　man　pretty　hopeless；　but　now　I　don't　know。　Imagination's　breaking　in　。　。　。　Warlock's　a　prophet。　I've　got　fascinated；　sitting　round　this　Chapel；　as　badly　as　any　of　them。　Yes；　one　can　be　led　into　belief　of　anything。〃

〃And　what　do　you　believe　in；　Mr。　Magnus？〃　asked　Maggie。

〃Well；　not　in　myself　anyway；　nor　Thurston；　nor　Miss　Avies　。　。　。　But　in　your　Aunt　perhaps；　and　Warlock。　The　only　thing　I'm　sure　of　is　that　there's　something　there；　but　what　it　is　of　course　I　can't　tell　you；　and　I　don't　suppose　I　shall　ever　know。　The　story　of　Sir　Galahad；　Miss　Cardinalit　seems　mid…Victorian　to　us　nowbut　it's　a　fine　story　and　true　enough。〃

Maggie；　who　knew　nothing　of　mid…Victorianism；　was　silent。

He　ended　with：　〃Mind　you　decide　for　yourself。　That's　the　great　thing　in　life。　Don't　you　believe　anything　that　any　one　tells　you。　See　for　yourself。　And　if　there's　something　of　great　value；　don't　think　the　less　of　it　because　the　people　who　admire　it　aren't　worth　very　much。　Why　should　they　be？　And　possibly　after　all　it's　only　themselves　they're　admiring　。　。　。　There's　a　fearful　lot　of　nonsense　and　humbug　in　this　thing；　but　there's　something　real　too　。　。　。〃

He　changed　his　note；　suddenly　addressing　himself　intently　to　her　as　though　he　had　a　message　to　deliver。

〃Don't　think　me　impertinent。　But　your　Aunt　Anne。　See　as　much　of　her　as　you　can。　She's　devoted　to　you；　Miss　Cardinal。　You　mayn't　have　seen　itshe's　a　reserved　woman　and　very　shy　of　her　feelings；　but　she's　spoken　to　me　。　。　。　I　hope　I'm　not　interfering　to　say　this；　but　perhaps　at　first　you　don't　understand　her。　She　loves　you；　you're　the　first　human　being　I　do　believe　that　she's　ever　loved。〃

What　was　there　then　in　Maggie　that　started　up　in　rebellion　at　this　unexpected　declaration？　She　had　been　sitting　there；　tranquil；　soothed　with　a　happy　sense　that　her　new　life　was　developing　securely　for　her　in　the　way　that　she　would　have　it。　Suddenly　she　was　alert；　suspicious；　hostile。

〃What　has　she　said　to　you？〃　she　asked　quickly；　frowning　up　at　him　and　drawing　back　as　though　she　were　afraid　of　him。　He　was　startled　at　the　change　in　her。

〃Said？〃　he　repeated；　stammering　a　little。　〃Why　only　。　。