pp.thegoldencompass-第6部分

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y　part　of　the　kingdom　there　were　dye　works　and　brick　kilns；　forests　and　atomcraft　works　that　paid　rent　to　Jordan；　and　every　quarter…day　the　bursar　and　his　clerks　would　tot　it　all　up；　announce　the　total　to　Concilium；　and　order　a　pair　of　swans　for　the　feast。　Some　of　the　money　was　put　by　for　reinvestment…Concilium　had　just　approved　the　purchase　of　an　office　block　in　Manchester…and　the　rest　was　used　to　pay　the　Scholars'　modest　stipends　and　the　wages　of　the　servants　（and　the　Parslows；　and　the　other　dozen　or　so　families　of　craftsmen　and　traders　who　served　the　College）；　to　keep　the　wine　cellar　richly　filled；　to　buy　books　and　anbarographs　for　the　immense　library　that　filled　one　side　of　the　Melrose　Quadrangle　and　extended；　burrow…like；　for　several　floors　beneath　the　ground；　and；　not　least；　to　buy　the　latest　philosophical　apparatus　to　equip　the　chapel。
　　It　was　important　to　keep　the　chapel　up　to　date；　because　Jordan　College　had　no　rival；　either　in　Europe　or　in　New　France；　as　a　center　of　experimental　theology。　Lyra　knew　that　much；　at　least。　She　was　proud　of　her　College's　eminence；　and　liked　to　boast　of　it　to　the　various　urchins　and　ragamuffins　she　played　with　by　the　canal　or　the　claybeds；　and　she　regarded　visiting　Scholars　and　eminent　professors　from　elsewhere　with　pitying　scorn；　because　they　didn't　belong　to　Jordan　and　so　must　know　less；　poor　things；　than　the　humblest　of　Jordan's　under…Scholars。
　　As　for　what　experimental　theology　was；　Lyra　had　no　more　idea　than　the　urchins。　She　had　formed　the　notion　that　it　was　concerned　with　magic；　with　the　movements　of　the　stars　and　planets；　with　tiny　particles　of　matter；　but　that　was　guesswork；　really。　Probably　the　stars　had　daemons　just　as　humans　did；　and　experimental　theology　involved　talking　to　them。　Lyra　imagined　the　Chaplain　speaking　loftily；　listening　to　the　star　daemons'　remarks；　and　then　nodding　judiciously　or　shaking　his　head　in　regret。　But　what　might　be　passing　between　them；　she　couldn't　conceive。
　　Nor　was　she　particularly　interested。　In　many　ways　Lyra　was　a　barbarian。　What　she　liked　best　was　clambering　over　the　College　roofs　with　Roger；　the　kitchen　boy　who　was　her　particular　friend；　to　spit　plum　stones　on　the　heads　of　passing　Scholars　or　to　hoot　like　owls　outside　a　window　where　a　tutorial　was　going　on；　or　racing　through　the　narrow　streets；　or　stealing　apples　from　the　market；　or　waging　war。　Just　as　she　was　unaware　of　the　hidden　currents　of　politics　running　below　the　surface　of　College　affairs；　so　the　Scholars；　for　their　part；　would　have　been　unable　to　see　the　rich　seething　stew　of　alliances　and　enmities　and　feuds　and　treaties　which　was　a　child's　life　in　Oxford。　Children　playing　together：　how　pleasant　to　see！　What　could　be　more　innocent　and　charming？
　　In　fact；　of　course；　Lyra　and　her　peers　were　engaged　in　deadly　warfare。　There　were　several　wars　running　at　once。　The　children　（young　servants；　and　the　children　of　servants；　and　Lyra）　of　one　college　waged　war　on　those　of　another。　Lyra　had　once　been　captured　by　the　children　of　Gabriel　College；　and　Roger　and　their　friends　Hugh　Lovat　and　Simon　Parslow　had　raided　the　place　to　rescue　her；　creeping　through　the　Precentor's　garden　and　gathering　armfuls　of　small　stone…hard　plums　to　throw　at　the　kidnappers。　There　were　twenty…four　colleges；　which　allowed　for　endless　permutations　of　alliance　and　betrayal。　But　the　enmity　between　the　colleges　was　forgotten　in　a　moment　when　the　town　children　attacked　a　colleger：　then　all　the　collegers　banded　together　and　went　into　battle　against　the　town…ies。This　rivalry　was　hundreds　of　years　old；　and　very　deep　and　satisfying。
　　But　even　this　was　forgotten　when　the　other　enemies　threatened。　One　enemy　was　perennial：　the　brickburners'　children；　who　lived　by　the　claybeds　and　were　despised　by　collegers　and　townies　alike。　Last　year　Lyra　and　some　townies　had　made　a　temporary　truce　and　raided　the　claybeds；　pelting　the　brick…burners'　children　with　lumps　of　heavy　clay　and　tipping　over　the　soggy　castle　they'd　built；　before　rolling　them　over　and　over　in　the　clinging　substance　they　lived　by　until　victors　and　vanquished　alike　resembled　a　flock　of　shrieking　golems。
　　The　other　regular　enemy　was　seasonal。　The　gyptian　families；　who　lived　in　canal　boats；　came　and　went　with　the　spring　and　autumn　fairs；　and　were　always　good　for　a　fight。　There　was　one　family　of　gyptians　in　particular；　who　regularly　returned　to　their　mooring　in　that　part　of　the　city　known　as　Jericho；　with　whom　Lyra'd　been　feuding　ever　since　she　could　first　throw　a　stone。　When　they　were　last　in　Oxford；　she　and　Roger　and　some　of　the　other　kitchen　boys　from　Jordan　and　St。　Michael's　College　had　laid　an　ambush　for　them；　throwing　mud　at　their　brightly　painted　narrowboat　until　the　whole　family　came　out　to　chase　them　away…at　which　point　the　reserve　squad　under　Lyra　raided　the　boat　and　cast　it　off　from　the　bank；　to　float　down　the　canal；　getting　in　the　way　of　all　the　other　water　traffic　while　Lyra's　raiders　searched　the　boat　from　end　to　end；　looking　for　the　bung。　Lyra　firmly　believed　in　this　bung。　If　they　pulled　it　out；　she　assured　her　troop；　the　boat　would　sink　at　once；　but　they　didn't　find　it；　and　had　to　abandon　ship　when　the　gyptians　caught　them　up；　to　flee　dripping　and　crowing　with　triumph　through　the　narrow　lanes　of　Jericho。
　　That　was　Lyra's　world　and　her　delight。　She　was　a　coarse　and　greedy　little　savage；　for　the　most　part。　But　she　always　had　a　dim　sense　that　it　wasn't　her　whole　world；　that　part　of　her　also　belonged　in　the　grandeur　and　ritual　of　Jordan　College；　and　that　somewhere　in　her　life　there　was　a　connection　with　the　high　world　of　politics　represented　by　Lord　Asriel。　All　she　did　with　that　knowledge　was　to　give　herself　airs　and　lord　it　over　the　other　urchins。　It　had　never　occurred　to　her　to　find　out　more。
　　So　she　had　passed　her　childhood；　like　a　half…wild　cat。　The　only　variation　in　her　days　came　on　those　irregular　occasions　when　Lord　Asriel　visited　the　College。　A　rich　and　powerful　uncle　was　all　very　well　to　boast　about；　but　the　price　of　boasting　was　having　to　be　caught　by　the　most　agile　Scholar　and　brought　to　the　Housekeeper　to　be　washed　and　dressed　in　a　clean　frock；　following　which　she　was　escorted　（with　many　threats）　to　the　Senior　mon　Room　to　have　tea　with　Lord　Asriel　and　an　invited　group　of　senior　Scholars。　She　dreaded　being　seen　by　Roger。　He'd　caught　sight　of　her　on　one　of　these　occasions　and　hooted　with　laughter　at　this　beribboned　and　pink…frilled　vision。　She　had　responded　with　a　volley　of　shrieking　curses　that　shocked　the　poor　Scholar　who　was　escorting　her；　and　in　the　Senior　mon　Room　she'd　slumped　mutinously　in　an　armchair　until　the　Master　told　her　sharply　to　sit　up；　and　then　she'd　glowered　at　them　all　till　even　the　Chaplain　had　to　laugh。
　　What　happened　on　those　awkward；　formal　visits　never　varied。　After　the　tea；　the　Master　and　the　other　few　Scholars　who'd　been　invited　left　Lyra　and　her　uncle　together；　and　he　called　her　to　stand　in　front　of　him　and　tell　him　what　she'd　learned　since　his　last　visit。　And　she　would　mutter　whatever　she　could　dredge　up　about　geometry　or　Arabic　or　history　or　anbarology；　and　he　would　sit　back　with　one　ankle　resting　on　the　other　knee　and　watch　her　inscrutably　until　her　words　failed。
　　Last　year；　before　his　expedition　to　the　North；　he'd　gone　on　to　say；　〃And　how　do　you　spend　your　time　when　you're　not　diligently　studying？〃
　　And　she　mumbled；　〃I　just　play。　Sort　of　around　the　College。　Just　。　。　。　play；　really。〃
　　And　he　said；　〃Let　me　see　your　hands；　child。〃
　　She　held　out　her　hands　for　inspection；　and　he　took　them　and　turned　them　over　to　look　at　her　fingernails。　Beside　him；　his　daemon　lay　sphinxlike　on　the　carpet；　swishing　her　tail　occasionally　and　gazing　unblinkingly　at　Lyra。
　　〃Dirty；〃　said　Lord　Asriel；　pushing　her　hands　away。　〃Don't　they　make　you　wash　in　this　place？〃
　　〃Yes；〃　she　said。　〃But　the　Chaplain's　fingernails　are　always　dirty。　They're　even　dirtier　than　mine。〃
　　〃He's　a　learned　man。　What's　your　excuse？〃
　　〃I　must've　got　them　dirty　after　I　washed。〃
　　〃Where　do　you　play　to　get　so　dirty？〃
　　She　looked　at　him　suspiciously。　She　had　the　feeling　that　being　on　the　roof　was　forbidden；　though　no　one　had　actually　said　so。　〃In　some　of　the　old　rooms；〃　she　said　finally。
　　〃And　where　else？〃
　　〃In　the　claybeds；　sometimes。〃
　　〃And？〃
　　〃Jericho　and　Port　Meadow。〃
　　〃Nowhere　else？〃
　　〃No。〃
　　〃You're　a　liar。　I　saw　you　on　the　roof　only　yesterday。〃
　　She　bit　her　lip　and　said　nothing。　He　was　watching　her　sardonically。
　　〃So；　you　play　on　the　roof　as　well；〃　he　went　on。　〃Do　you　ever　go　into　the　library？〃
　　〃No。　I　found　a　rook　on　the　library　roof；　though；〃　she　went　on。
　　〃Did　you？　Did　you　catch　it？〃
　　〃It　had　a　hurt　foot。　I　was　going　to　kill　it　and　roast　it　but　Roger　said　we　should　help　it　get　better。　So　we　gave　it　scraps　of　food　and　some　wine　and　then　it　got　better　and　flew　away。〃
　　〃Who's　Roger？〃
　　〃My　friend。　The　kitchen　boy。〃
　　〃I　see。　So　you've　been　all　over　the　roof…〃
　　〃Not　all　over。　You　can't　get　onto　the　Sheldon　Building　because　you　have　to　jump　up　from　Pilgrim's　Tower　across　a　gap。　There's　a　skylight　that　opens　onto　it；　but　I'm　not　tall　enough　to　reach　it。〃
　　〃You've　been　all　over　the　roof　except　the　Sheldon　Building。　What　about　underground？〃
　　〃Underground？〃
　　〃There's　as　much　College　below　ground　as　there　is　above　it。　I'm　surprised　you　haven't　found　that　out。　Well；　I'm　going　in　a　minute。　You　look　healthy　enough。　Here。〃
　　He　fished　in　his　pocket　and　drew　out　a　handful　of　coins；　from　which　he　gave　her　five　gold　dollars。
　　〃Haven't　they　taught　you　to　say　thank　you？〃　he　said。
　　〃Thank　you；〃　she　mumbled。
　　〃Do　you　obey　the　Master？〃
　　〃Oh；　yes。〃
　　〃And　respect　the　Scholars？〃
　　〃Yes。〃
　　Lord　Asriel's　daemon　laughed　softly。　It　was　the　first　sound　she'd　made；　and　Lyra　blushed。
　　〃Go　and　play；　then；〃　said　Lord　Asriel。
　　Lyra　turned　and　darted　to　the　door　with　relief；　remembering　to　turn　and　blurt　out　a　〃Goodbye。〃
　　
　　So　Lyra's　life　had　been；　before　the　day　when　she　decided　to　hide　in　the　Retiring　Room；　and　first　heard　about　Dust。
　　And　of　course　the　Librarian　was　wrong　in　saying　to　the　Master　that　she　wouldn't　have　been　interested。　She　would　have　listened　eagerly　now　to　anyone　who　could　tell　her　about　Dust。　She　was　to　hear　a　great