life in the iron-mills-第5部分

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here？　　A　man　may　make　himself　anything　he　chooses。　　God　has

given　you　stronger　powers　than　many　men；me；　for　instance。〃



May　stopped；　heated；　glowing　with　his　own　magnanimity。　　And　it

was　magnanimous。　　The　puddler　had　drunk　in　every　word；　looking

through　the　Doctor's　flurry；　and　generous　heat；　and　self…

approval；　into　his　will；　with　those　slow；　absorbing　eyes　of　his。



〃Make　yourself　what　you　will。　　It　is　your　right。



〃I　know；〃　quietly。　　〃Will　you　help　me？〃



Mitchell　laughed　again。　　The　Doctor　turned　now；　in　a　passion；



〃You　know；　Mitchell；　I　have　not　the　means。　　You　know；　if　I　had；

it　is　in　my　heart　to　take　this　boy　and　educate　him　for〃



〃The　glory　of　God；　and　the　glory　of　John　May。〃



May　did　not　speak　for　a　moment；　then；　controlled；　he　said；



〃Why　should　one　be　raised；　when　myriads　are　left？I　have　not

the　money；　boy；〃　to　Wolfe；　shortly。



〃Money？〃　　He　said　it　over　slowly；　as　one　repeats　the　guessed

answer　to　a　riddle；　doubtfully。　　〃That　is　it？　　Money？〃



〃Yes；　money；that　is　it；〃　said　Mitchell；　rising；　and　drawing

his　furred　coat　about　him。　　〃You've　found　the　cure　for　all　the

world's　diseases。Come；　May；　find　your　good…humor；　and　come

home。　　This　damp　wind　chills　my　very　bones。　　Come　and　preach

your　Saint…Simonian　doctrines'　to…morrow　to　Kirby's　hands。　　Let

them　have　a　clear　idea　of　the　rights　of　the　soul；　and　I'll

venture　next　week　they'll　strike　for　higher　wages。　　That　will　be

the　end　of　it。〃



〃Will　you　send　the　coach…driver　to　this　side　of　the　mills？〃

asked　Kirby；　turning　to　Wolfe。



He　spoke　kindly：　　it　was　his　habit　to　do　so。　　Deborah；　seeing

the　puddler　go；　crept　after　him。　　The　three　men　waited　outside。

Doctor　May　walked　up　and　down；　chafed。　　Suddenly　he　stopped。



〃Go　back；　Mitchell！　　You　say　the　pocket　and　the　heart　of　the

world　speak　without　meaning　to　these　people。　　What　has　its　head

to　say？　　Taste；　culture；　refinement？　　Go！〃



Mitchell　was　leaning　against　a　brick　wall。　　He　turned　his　head

indolently；　and　looked　into　the　mills。　　There　hung　about　the

place　a　thick；　unclean　odor。　　The　slightest　motion　of　his　hand

marked　that　he　perceived　it；　and　his　insufferable　disgust。　　That

was　all。　　May　said　nothing；　only　quickened　his　angry　tramp。



〃Besides；〃　added　Mitchell；　giving　a　corollary　to　his　answer；　〃it

would　be　of　no　use。　　I　am　not　one　of　them。〃



〃You　do　not　mean〃said　May；　facing　him。



〃Yes；　I　mean　just　that。　　Reform　is　born　of　need；　not　pity。　　No

vital　movement　of　the　people's　has　worked　down；　for　good　or

evil；　fermented；　instead；　carried　up　the　heaving；　cloggy　mass。

Think　back　through　history；　and　you　will　know　it。　　What　will

this　lowest　deepthieves；　Magdalens；　negroesdo　with　the　light

filtered　through　ponderous　Church　creeds；　Baconian　theories；

Goethe　schemes？　　Some　day；　out　of　their　bitter　need　will　be

thrown　up　their　own　light…bringer；their　Jean　Paul；　their

Cromwell；　their　Messiah。〃



〃Bah！〃　was　the　Doctor's　inward　criticism。　　However；　in　practice；

he　adopted　the　theory；　for；　when；　night　and　morning；　afterwards；

he　prayed　that　power　might　be　given　these　degraded　souls　to

rise；　he　glowed　at　heart；　recognizing　an　accomplished　duty。



Wolfe　and　the　woman　had　stood　in　the　shadow　of　the　works　as　the

coach　drove　off。　　The　Doctor　had　held　out　his　hand　in　a　frank；

generous　way；　telling　him　to　〃take　care　of　himself；　and　to

remember　it　was　his　right　to　rise。〃　　Mitchell　had　simply　touched

his　hat；　as　to　an　equal；　with　a　quiet　look　of　thorough

recognition。　　Kirby　had　thrown　Deborah　some　money；　which　she

found；　and　clutched　eagerly　enough。　　They　were　gone　now；　all　of

them。　　The　man　sat　down　on　the　cinder…road；　looking　up　into　the

murky　sky。



〃'T　be　late；　Hugh。　　Wunnot　hur　come？〃



He　shook　his　head　doggedly；　and　the　woman　crouched　out　of　his

sight　against　the　wall。　　Do　you　remember　rare　moments　when　a

sudden　light　flashed　over　yourself；　your　world；　God？　　when　you

stood　on　a　mountain…peak；　seeing　your　life　as　it　might　have

been；　as　it　is？　　one　quick　instant；　when　custom　lost　its　force

and　every…day　usage？　　when　your　friend；　wife；　brother；　stood　in

a　new　light？　　your　soul　was　bared；　and　the　grave；a　foretaste

of　the　nakedness　of　the　Judgment…Day？　　So　it　came　before　him；

his　life；　that　night。　　The　slow　tides　of　pain　he　had　borne

gathered　themselves　up　and　surged　against　his　soul。　　His　squalid

daily　life；　the　brutal　coarseness　eating　into　his　brain；　as　the

ashes　into　his　skin：　　before；　these　things　had　been　a　dull

aching　into　his　consciousness；　to…night；　they　were　reality。　　He

griped　the　filthy　red　shirt　that　clung；　stiff　with　soot；　about

him；　and　tore　it　savagely　from　his　arm。　　The　flesh　beneath　was

muddy　with　grease　and　ashes；and　the　heart　beneath　that！　　And

the　soul？　　God　knows。



Then　flashed　before　his　vivid　poetic　sense　the　man　who　had　left

him；the　pure　face；　the　delicate；　sinewy　limbs；　in　harmony　with

all　he　knew　of　beauty　or　truth。　　In　his　cloudy　fancy　he　had

pictured　a　Something　like　this。　　He　had　found　it　in　this

Mitchell；　even　when　he　idly　scoffed　at　his　pain：　　a　Man　all…

knowing；　all…seeing；　crowned　by　Nature；　reigning；the　keen

glance　of　his　eye　falling　like　a　sceptre　on　other　men。　　And　yet

his　instinct　taught　him　that　he　tooHe！　　He　looked　at　himself

with　sudden　loathing；　sick；　wrung　his　hands　With　a　cry；　and　then

was　silent。　　With　all　the　phantoms　of　his　heated；　ignorant

fancy；　Wolfe　had　not　been　vague　in　his　ambitions。　　They　were

practical；　slowly　built　up　before　him　out　of　his　knowledge　of

what　he　could　do。　　Through　years　he　had　day　by　day　made　this

hope　a　real　thing　to　himself；a　clear；　projected　figure　of

himself；　as　he　might　become。



Able　to　speak；　to　know　what　was　best；　to　raise　these　men　and

women　working　at　his　side　up　with　him：　　sometimes　he　forgot　this

defined　hope　in　the　frantic　anguish　to　escape；　only　to　escape；

out　of　the　wet；　the　pain；　the　ashes；　somewhere；　anywhere；only

for　one　moment　of　free　air　on　a　hill…side；　to　lie　down　and　let

his　sick　soul　throb　itself　out　in　the　sunshine。　　But　to…night　he

panted　for　life。　　The　savage　strength　of　his　nature　was　roused；

his　cry　was　fierce　to　God　for　justice。



〃Look　at　me！〃　he　said　to　Deborah；　with　a　low；　bitter　laugh；

striking　his　puny　chest　savagely。　　〃What　am　I　worth；　Deb？　　Is　it

my　fault　that　I　am　no　better？　　My　fault？　　My　fault？〃



He　stopped；　stung　with　a　sudden　remorse；　seeing　her　hunchback

shape　writhing　with　sobs。　　For　Deborah　was　crying　thankless

tears；　according　to　the　fashion　of　women。



〃God　forgi'　me；　woman！　　Things　go　harder　Wi'　you　nor　me。　　It's

a　worse　share。〃



He　got　up　and　helped　her　to　rise；　and　they　went　doggedly　down

the　muddy　street；　side　by　side。



〃It's　all　wrong；〃　he　muttered；　slowly；〃all　wrong！　　I　dunnot

understan'。　　But　it'll　end　some　day。〃



〃Come　home；　Hugh！〃　she　said；　coaxingly；　for　he　had　stopped；

looking　around　bewildered。



〃Home；and　back　to　the　mill！〃　　He　went　on　saying　this　over　to

himself；　as　if　he　would　mutter　down　every　pain　in　this　dull

despair。



She　followed　him　through　the　fog；　her　blue　lips　chattering　with

cold。　　They　reached　the　cellar　at　last。　　Old　Wolfe　had　been

drinking　since　she　went　out；　and　had　crept　nearer　the　door。　　The

girl　Janey　slept　heavily　in　the　corner。　　He　went　up　to　her；

touching　softly　the　worn　white　arm　with　his　fingers。　　Some

bitterer　thought　stung　him；　as　he　stood　there。　　He　wiped　the

drops　from　his　forehead；　and　went　into　the　room　beyond；　livid；

trembling。　　A　hope；　trifling；　perhaps；　but　very　dear；　had　died

just　then　out　of　the　poor　puddler's　life；　as　he　looked　at　the

sleeping；　innocent　girl；some　plan　for　the　future；　in　which　she

had　borne　a　part。　　He　gave　it　up　that　moment；　then　and　forever。

Only　a　trifle；　perhaps；　to　us：　　his　face　grew　a　shade　paler；

that　was　all。　　But；　somehow；　the　man's　soul；　as　God　and　the

angels　looked　down　on　it；　never　was　the　same　afterwards。



Deborah　followed　him　into　the　inner　room。　　She　carried　a　candle；

which　she　placed　on　the　floor；　closing　the　door　after　her。　　She

had　seen　the　look　on　his　face；　as　he　turned　away：　　her　own　grew

deadly。　　Yet；　as　she　came　up　to　him；　her　eyes　glowed。　　He　was

seated　on　an　old　chest；　quiet；　holding　his　face　in　his　hands。



〃Hugh！〃　she　said；　softly。



He　did　not　speak。



〃Hugh；　did　hur　hear　what　the　man　said；him　with　the　clear

voice？　　Did　hur　hear？　　Money；　money；that　it　wud　do　all？〃



He　pushed　her　away；gently；　but　he　was　worn　out；　her　rasping

tone　fretted　him。



〃Hugh！〃



The　candle　flared　a　pale　yellow　light　over　the　cobwebbed　brick

walls；　and　the　woman　standing　there。　　He　looked　at　her。　　She　was

young；　in　deadly　earnest；　her　faded　eyes；　and　wet；　ragged　figure

caught　from　their　frantic　eagerness　a　power　akin　to　beauty。



〃Hugh；　it　is　true！　　Money　ull　do　it！　　Oh；　Hugh；　boy；　listen　till

me！　　He　said　it　true！　　It　is　money！〃



〃I　know。　　Go　back！　　I　do　not　want　you　here。〃



〃Hugh；　it　is　t'　last　time。　　I'll　never　worrit　hur　again。〃



There　were　tears　in　her　voice　now；　but　she　choked　them　back：



〃Hear　till　me　only　to…night！　　If　one　of　t'　witch　people　wud

come；　them　we　heard　oft'　home；　and　gif　hur　all　hur　wants；　what

then？　　Say；　Hugh！〃



〃What　do　you　mean？〃



〃I　mean　money。



Her　whisper　shrilled　through　his　brain。



〃If　one　oft'　witch　dwarfs　wud　come　from　t'　lane　moors　to…night；

and　gif　hur　money；　to　go　out；OUT；　I　say；out；　lad；　where　t'

sun　shines；　and　t'　heath　grows；　and　t'　ladies　walk　in　silken

gownds；　and　God　stays　all　t'　time；where　t'man　lives　that

talked　to　us　to…night；　Hugh　knows；Hugh　could　walk　there　like

a　king！〃



He　thought　the　woman　mad；　tried　to　check　her；　but　she　went　on；

fierce　in　her　eager　haste。



〃If　I　were　t'　witch　dwarf；　if　I　had　t'　money；　wud　hur　thank　me？

Wud　hur　take　me　out　o'　this　place　wid　hur　and　Janey？　　I　wud　not

come　into　the　gran'　house　hur　wud　build；　to　vex　hur　wid　t'

hunch；only　at　night；　when　t'　shadows　were　dark；　s