srdonaldson.thepowerthatpreserves-第3部分

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ry　leaf；　brittle　to　the　breaking　point；　and　apt　for　fire。
　　　　At　acute　times　during　the　next　three　days；　he　wanted　to　burn　his　house　down；　put　it　to　the　torch…make　it　the　pyre　or　charnel　of　his　uncleanness。　And　in　many　less　savage　moods；　he　ached　to　simply　slit　his　wrists…open　his　veins　and　let　the　slow　misery　of　his　collapse　drain　away。　But　he　could　not　muster　the　resolution　for　either　act。　Torn　between　horrors；　he　seemed　to　have　lost　the　power　of　decision。　The　little　strength　of　will　that　remained　to　him　he　spent　in　denying　himself　food　and　rest。
　　　　He　went　without　food　because　he　had　fasted　once　before；　and　that　hunger　had　helped　to　carry　him　through　a　forest　of　self…deceptions　to　a　realization　of　the　appalling　thing　he　had　done　to　Lena；　Elena's　mother。　Now　he　wanted　to　do　the　same；　he　wanted　to　cut　through　all　excuses；　justifications；　digressions；　defenses；　and　meet　his　condition　on　its　darkest　terms。　If　he　failed　to　do　this；　then　any　conclusion　he　reached　would　be　betrayed　from　birth；　like　Elena；　by　the　inadequacy　of　his　rectitude　or　prehension。
　　　　But　he　fought　his　bone…deep　need　for　rest　because　he　was　afraid　of　what　might　happen　to　him　if　he　slept。　He　had　learned　that　the　innocent　do　not　sleep。　Guilt　begins　in　dreams。
　　　　Neither　of　these　abnegations　surpassed　him。　The　nausea　lurking　constantly　in　the　pit　of　his　stomach　helped　him　to　keep　from　food。　And　the　fever　of　his　plight　did　not　let　him　go。　It　held　and　rubbed　him　like　a　harness；　he　seemed　to　have　the　galls　of　it　on　his　soul。　Whenever　the　penury　of　his　resources　threatened　him；　he　gusted　out　of　his　house　like　a　lost　wind；　and　scudded　through　the　hills　for　miles　up　and　down　the　wooded　length　of　Righters　Creek。　And　when　he　could　not　rouse　himself　with　exertion；　he　lay　down　across　the　broken　furniture　in　his　living　room；　so　that　if　he　dozed　he　would　be　too　unfortable　to　rest　deeply　enough　for　dreams。
　　　　In　the　process；　he　did　nothing　to　care　for　his　illness。　His　VSE…the　Visual　Surveillance　of　Extremities　on　which　his　struggle　against　leprosy　depended…and　other　self…protective　habits　he　neglected　as　if　they　had　lost　all　meaning　for　him。　He　did　not　take　the　medication　which　had　at　one　time　arrested　the　spreading　of　his　disease。　His　forehead　festered；　cold　numbness　gnawed　its　slow　way　up　the　nerves　of　his　hands　and　feet。　He　accepted　such　things；　ignored　his　danger。　It　was　condign；　he　deserved　it。
　　　　Nevertheless；　he　fell　into　the　same　fey　mood　every　evening。　In　the　gloom　of　twilight；　his　need　for　people　became　unendurable；　it　drew　him　spitting　and　gnashing　his　teeth　to　the　outer　darkness　beyond　the　home　lights　of　the　town。　Night　after　night　he　tried　to　drive　himself　to　the　door　of　a　home；　any　home。　But　he　could　not　raise　his　courage　high　enough　to　accost　the　lights。　People　within　a　stone's　throw　of　him　remained　as　unattainable　as　if　they　occupied　another　world。　Each　night　he　was　thrown　back　for　panionship　on　the　unrelieved　aspect　of　his　own　weakness…and　on　the　throbbing　ache　which　filled　his　skull　as　the　infection　in　his　forehead　grew。
　　　　Elena　had　died　because　of　him。　She　was　his　daughter；　and　he　had　loved　her。　Yet　he　had　trapped　her　into　death。
　　　　She　had　never　even　existed。
　　　　He　could　find　no　answer　to　it。
　　　　Then；　Thursday　night；　the　pattern　of　his　decline　was　broken　for　him。　In　the　process　of　his　futile　ghosting；　he　became　aware　of　sounds　on　the　dark　breeze。　A　tone　rose　and　fell　like　a　voice　in　oratory；　and　between　its　stanzas　he　heard　singing。　Disembodied　in　the　darkness；　the　voices　had　a　tattered；　mournful　air；　like　an　invitation　to　a　gathering　of　damned　souls…verses　and　chorus　responding　in　dolor　to　each　other。　Elena　had　been　a　singer；　daughter　of　a　family　of　singers。　Fumbling　his　way　through　the　benighted　outskirts　of　the　town；　he　followed　the　reft　sorrow　of　the　music。
　　　　It　led　him　past　the　houses；　around　the　town；　down　the　road　to　the　barren　field　which　served　as　a　parade　ground　whenever　the　town　celebrated　a　patriotic　occasion。　A　few　people　were　still　hurrying　toward　the　field　as　if　they　were　late；　and　Covenant　avoided　them　by　staying　off　the　road。　When　he　reached　the　parade　ground；　he　found　that　a　huge　tent　had　been　erected　in　its　center。　All　the　sides　of　the　tent　were　rolled　up；　so　that　the　light　of　pressure　lanterns　shone　vividly　from　under　the　canvas。
　　　　People　filled　the　tent。　They　were　just　sitting　down　on　benches　after　singing；　and　during　the　movement；　several　ushers　guided　the　lateers　to　the　last　empty　seats。　The　benches　faced　in　tight　rows　toward　a　wide　platform　at　the　front　of　the　tent；　where　three　men　sat。　They　were　behind　a　heavy　pulpit；　and　behind　them　stood　a　makeshift　altar；　hastily　hammered　together　out　of　pine　boards；　and　bleakly　adorned　by　a　few　crooked　candles　and　a　dull；　battered　gold　cross。
　　　　As　the　people　settled　themselves　on　the　benches；　one　of　the　men　on　the　platform…a　short　fleshy　man　dressed　in　a　black　suit　and　a　dull　white　shirt…got　to　his　feet　and　stepped　to　the　pulpit。　In　a　sonorous；　pelling　voice；　he　said；　〃Let　us　pray。〃
　　　　All　the　people　bowed　their　heads。　Covenant　was　on　the　verge　of　turning　away　in　disgust；　but　the　quiet　confidence　of　the　man's　tone　stayed　him。　He　listened　unwillingly　as　the　man　folded　his　hands　on　the　pulpit　and　prayed　gently：
　　　　〃Dear　Jesus；　our　Lord　and　Saviour…please　look　down　on　the　souls　that　have　e　together　here。　Look　into　their　hearts；　Lord…see　the　pain；　and　the　hurt；　and　the　loneliness；　and　the　sorrow…yes；　and　the　sin…and　the　hunger　for　You　in　their　hearts。　fort　them；　Lord。　Help　them；　heal　them。　Teach　them　the　peace　and　the　miracle　of　prayer　in　Thy　true　name。　Amen。''
　　　　Together；　the　people　responded；　〃Amen。〃
　　　　The　man's　voice　tugged　at　Covenant。　He　heard　something　in　it　that　sounded　like　sincerity；　like　simple　passion。　He　could　not　be　sure；　he　seemed　to　have　learned　what　little　he　knew　about　sincerity　in　dreams。　But　he　did　not　move　away。　Instead；　while　the　people　raised　their　heads　from　prayer；　he　moved　cautiously　forward　into　the　light；　went　close　enough　to　the　tent　to　read　a　large　sign　posted　at　the　side　of　the　road。　It　said：
　　　　The　EASTER　HEALTH　Crusade…
　　　　Dr。　B。　Sam　Johnson
　　　　revivalist　and　healer
　　　　tonight　through　Sunday
　　　　only。
　　　　On　the　platform；　another　man　approached　the　pulpit。　He　wore　a　clerical　collar；　and　a　silver　cross　hung　from　his　neck。　He　pushed　his　heavy　glasses　up　on　his　nose；　and　beamed　out　over　the　people。　〃I'm　pleased　as　punch；〃　he　said；　〃to　have　Dr。　Johnson　and　Matthew　Logan　here。　They're　known　everywhere　in　the　state　for　their　rich　ministry　to　the　spiritual　needs　of　people　like　us。　I　don't　need　to　tell　you　how　much　we　need　reviving　here…how　many　of　us　need　to　recover　that　healing　faith；　especially　in　this　Easter　season。　Dr。　Johnson　and　Mr。　Logan　are　going　to　help　us　return　to　the　matchless　Grace　of　God。〃
　　　　The　short　man　dressed　in　black　stood　up　again　and　said；　〃Thank　you；　sir。〃　The　minister　hesitated；　then　left　the　pulpit　as　if　he　had　been　dismissed…cut　off　in　the　opening　stages　of　a　fulsome　introduction…and　Dr。　Johnson　went　on　smoothly：　〃My　friends；　here's　my　dear　brother　in　Christ；　Matthew　Logan。　You've　heard　his　wonderful；　wonderful　singing。　Now　he'll　read　the　Divine　Word　of　God　for　us。　Brother　Logan。〃
　　　　As　he　stepped　to　the　pulpit；　Matthew　Logan's　powerful　frame　towered　over　Dr。　Johnson。　Though　he　seemed　to　have　no　neck　at　all；　the　head　resting　on　his　broad　shoulders　was　half　a　yard　above　his　partner's。　He　flipped　authoritatively　through　a　massive　black　Bible　on　the　pulpit；　found　his　place；　and　bowed　his　head　to　read　as　if　in　deference　to　the　Word　of　God。

　　　　He　began　without　introduction：
　　　　〃　'But　if　you　will　not　hearken　to　me；　and　will　not　do　all　these　mandments；　but　break　my　covenant；　I　will　do　this　to　you：　I　will　appoint　over　you　sudden　terror；　consumption；　and　fever　that　waste　the　eyes　and　cause　life　to　pine　away。　And　you　shall　sow　your　seed　in　vain；　for　your　enemies　shall　eat　it；　those　who　hate　you　shall　rule　over　you；　and　you　shall　flee　when　none　pursues　you。　I　will　make　your　heavens　like　iron　and　your　earth　like　brass；　and　your　strength　shall　be　spent　in　vain；　for　your　land　shall　not　yield　its　increase；　and　the　trees　of　the　land　shall　not　yield　their　fruit。
　　　　''　Then　if　you　walk　contrary　to　me；　and　will　not　hearken　to　me；　I　will　bring　more　plagues　upon　you；　sevenfold　as　many　as　your　sins。　And　I　will　let　loose　the　wild　beasts　among　you；　which　shall　rob　you　of　your　children；　and　destroy　your　cattle；　and　make　you　few　in　number；　so　that　your　ways　shall　bee　desolate。　I　also　will　walk　contrary　to　you；　and　I　will　bring　a　sword　upon　you；　and　shall　execute　vengeance　for　the　covenant；　and　if　you　gather　within　your　cities　I　will　send　pestilence　among　you；　and　you　shall　be　delivered　into　the　hand　of　the　enemy。'　〃
　　　　As　Matthew　Logan　rolled　out　the　words；　Covenant　felt　their　spell　falling　on　him。　The　promise　of　punishment　caught　at　his　heart；　it　snared　him　as　if　it　had　been　lying　in　ambush　for　his　gray；　gaunt　soul。　Stiffly；　involuntarily；　he　moved　toward　the　tent　as　the　curse　drew　him　to　itself。
　　　　'And　if　in　spite　of　this　you　will　not　hearken　to　me；　but　walk　contrary　to　me；　then　I　will　walk　contrary　to　you　in　fury；　and　chastise　you　myself　sevenfold　for　your　sins。　You　shall　eat　the　flesh　of　your　sons；　and　you　shall　eat　the　flesh　of　your　daughters。　My　soul　will　abhor　you。　I　will　lay　your　cities　waste。　I　will　scatter　you　among　the　nations；　and　I　will　unsheathe　the　sword　after　you；　and　your　land　shall　be　a　desolation；　and　your　cities　shall　be　a　waste。
　　　　'Then　the　land　shall　pay　for　its　sabbaths　as　long　as　it　lies　desolate　Covenant　ducked　under　an　edge　of　the　canvas　and　found　himself　standing　beside　an　usher　at　the　rear　of　the　tent。　The　usher　eyed　him　distrustfully；　but　made　no　move　to　offer　him　a　seat。　High　on　the　platform　at　the　other　end；　Matthew　Logan　stood　like　a　savage　patriarch　leveling　retribution　at　the　bent；　vulnerable　heads　below　him。　The　curse　gathered　a　storm　in　Covenant；　and　he　feared　that　he　would　cry　out　before　it　ended。　But　Matthew　Logan　stopped　where　he　was　and　flipped　through　the　Bible　again。　When　he　found　his　new　place；　he　read　more　quietly：
　　　　〃　'Whoever；　therefore；　eats　the　bread　or　drinks　the　cup　of　the　Lord　in　an　unworthy　manner　will　be　guilty　of　profaning　the　body