the beast in the jungle-第6部分

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what　should　he　think？mystical　irresistible　light；　this　would　make　the　matter　not　better；　but　worse；　inasmuch　as　her　original　adoption　of　his　own　curiosity　had　quite　become　the　basis　of　her　life。　　She　had　been　living　to　see　what　would　BE　to　be　seen；　and　it　would　quite　lacerate　her　to　have　to　give　up　before　the　accomplishment　of　the　vision。　　These　reflexions；　as　I　say；　quickened　his　generosity；　yet；　make　them　as　he　might；　he　saw　himself；　with　the　lapse　of　the　period；　more　and　more　disconcerted。　　It　lapsed　for　him　with　a　strange　steady　sweep；　and　the　oddest　oddity　was　that　it　gave　him；　independently　of　the　threat　of　much　inconvenience；　almost　the　only　positive　surprise　his　career；　if　career　it　could　be　called；　had　yet　offered　him。　　She　kept　the　house　as　she　had　never　done；　he　had　to　go　to　her　to　see　hershe　could　meet　him　nowhere　now；　though　there　was　scarce　a　corner　of　their　loved　old　London　in　which　she　hadn't　in　the　past；　at　one　time　or　another；　done　so；　and　he　found　her　always　seated　by　her　fire　in　the　deep　old…fashioned　chair　she　was　less　and　less　able　to　leave。　　He　had　been　struck　one　day；　after　an　absence　exceeding　his　usual　measure；　with　her　suddenly　looking　much　older　to　him　than　he　had　ever　thought　of　her　being；　then　he　recognised　that　the　suddenness　was　all　on　his　sidehe　had　just　simply　and　suddenly　noticed。　　She　looked　older　because　inevitably；　after　so　many　years；　she　WAS　old；　or　almost；　which　was　of　course　true　in　still　greater　measure　of　her　companion。　　If　she　was　old；　or　almost；　John　Marcher　assuredly　was；　and　yet　it　was　her　showing　of　the　lesson；　not　his　own；　that　brought　the　truth　home　to　him。　　His　surprises　began　here；　when　once　they　had　begun　they　multiplied；　they　came　rather　with　a　rush：　　it　was　as　if；　in　the　oddest　way　in　the　world；　they　had　all　been　kept　back；　sown　in　a　thick　cluster；　for　the　late　afternoon　of　life；　the　time　at　which　for　people　in　general　the　unexpected　has　died　out。

One　of　them　was　that　he　should　have　caught　himselffor　he　HAD　so　doneREALLY　wondering　if　the　great　accident　would　take　form　now　as　nothing　more　than　his　being　condemned　to　see　this　charming　woman；　this　admirable　friend；　pass　away　from　him。　　He　had　never　so　unreservedly　qualified　her　as　while　confronted　in　thought　with　such　a　possibility；　in　spite　of　which　there　was　small　doubt　for　him　that　as　an　answer　to　his　long　riddle　the　mere　effacement　of　even　so　fine　a　feature　of　his　situation　would　be　an　abject　anticlimax。　　It　would　represent；　as　connected　with　his　past　attitude；　a　drop　of　dignity　under　the　shadow　of　which　his　existence　could　only　become　the　most　grotesques　of　failures。　　He　had　been　far　from　holding　it　a　failure…　…long　as　he　had　waited　for　the　appearance　that　was　to　make　it　a　success。　　He　had　waited　for　quite　another　thing；　not　for　such　a　thing　as　that。　　The　breath　of　his　good　faith　came　short；　however；　as　he　recognised　how　long　he　had　waited；　or　how　long　at　least　his　companion　had。　　That　she；　at　all　events；　might　be　recorded　as　having　waited　in　vainthis　affected　him　sharply；　and　all　the　more　because　of　his　it　first　having　done　little　more　than　amuse　himself　with　the　idea。　　It　grew　more　grave　as　the　gravity　of　her　condition　grew；　and　the　state　of　mind　it　produced　in　him；　which　he　himself　ended　by　watching　as　if　it　had　been　some　definite　disfigurement　of　his　outer　person；　may　pass　for　another　of　his　surprises。　　This　conjoined　itself　still　with　another；　the　really　stupefying　consciousness　of　a　question　that　he　would　have　allowed　to　shape　itself　had　he　dared。　　What　did　everything　meanwhat；　that　is；　did　SHE　mean；　she　and　her　vain　waiting　and　her　probable　death　and　the　soundless　admonition　of　it　allunless　that；　at　this　time　of　day；　it　was　simply；　it　was　overwhelmingly　too　late？　　He　had　never　at　any　stage　of　his　queer　consciousness　admitted　the　whisper　of　such　a　correction；　he　had　never　till　within　these　last　few　months　been　so　false　to　his　conviction　as　not　to　hold　that　what　was　to　come　to　him　had　time；　whether　HE　struck　himself　as　having　it　or　not。　　That　at　last；　at　last；　he　certainly　hadn't　it；　to　speak　of；　or　had　it　but　in　the　scantiest　measuresuch；　soon　enough；　as　things　went　with　him；　became　the　inference　with　which　his　old　obsession　had　to　reckon：　　and　this　it　was　not　helped　to　do　by　the　more　and　more　confirmed　appearance　that　the　great　vagueness　casting　the　long　shadow　in　which　he　had　lived　had；　to　attest　itself；　almost　no　margin　left。　　Since　it　was　in　Time　that　he　was　to　have　met　his　fate；　so　it　was　in　Time　that　his　fate　was　to　have　acted；　and　as　he　waked　up　to　the　sense　of　no　longer　being　young；　which　was　exactly　the　sense　of　being　stale；　just　as　that；　in　turn；　was　the　sense　of　being　weak；　he　waked　up　to　another　matter　beside。　　It　all　hung　together；　they　were　subject；　he　and　the　great　vagueness；　to　an　equal　and　indivisible　law。　　When　the　possibilities　themselves　had　accordingly　turned　stale；　when　the　secret　of　the　gods　had　grown　faint；　had　perhaps　even　quite　evaporated；　that；　and　that　only；　was　failure。　　It　wouldn't　have　been　failure　to　be　bankrupt；　dishonoured；　pilloried；　hanged；　it　was　failure　not　to　be　anything。　And　so；　in　the　dark　valley　into　which　his　path　had　taken　its　unlooked…for　twist；　he　wondered　not　a　little　as　he　groped。　　He　didn't　care　what　awful　crash　might　overtake　him；　with　what　ignominy　or　what　monstrosity　he　might　yet　he　associatedsince　he　wasn't　after　all　too　utterly　old　to　sufferif　it　would　only　be　decently　proportionate　to　the　posture　he　had　kept；　all　his　life；　in　the　threatened　presence　of　it。　　He　had　but　one　desire　leftthat　he　shouldn't　have　been　〃sold。〃



CHAPTER　IV



Then　it　was　that；　one　afternoon；　while　the　spring　of　the　year　was　young　and　new　she　met　all　in　her　own　way　his　frankest　betrayal　of　these　alarms。　　He　had　gone　in　late　to　see　her；　but　evening　hadn't　settled　and　she　was　presented　to　him　in　that　long　fresh　light　of　waning　April　days　which　affects　us　often　with　a　sadness　sharper　than　the　greyest　hours　of　autumn。　　The　week　had　been　warm；　the　spring　was　supposed　to　have　begun　early；　and　May　Bartram　sat；　for　the　first　time　in　the　year；　without　a　fire；　a　fact　that；　to　Marcher's　sense；　gave　the　scene　of　which　she　formed　part　a　smooth　and　ultimate　look；　an　air　of　knowing；　in　its　immaculate　order　and　cold　meaningless　cheer；　that　it　would　never　see　a　fire　again。　　Her　own　aspecthe　could　scarce　have　said　whyintensified　this　note。　Almost　as　white　as　wax；　with　the　marks　and　signs　in　her　face　as　numerous　and　as　fine　as　if　they　had　been　etched　by　a　needle；　with　soft　white　draperies　relieved　by　a　faded　green　scarf　on　the　delicate　tone　of　which　the　years　had　further　refined；　she　was　the　picture　of　a　serene　and　exquisite　but　impenetrable　sphinx；　whose　head；　or　indeed　all　whose　person；　might　have　been　powdered　with　silver。　　She　was　a　sphinx；　yet　with　her　white　petals　and　green　fronds　she　might　have　been　a　lily　tooonly　an　artificial　lily；　wonderfully　imitated　and　constantly　kept；　without　dust　or　stain；　though　not　exempt　from　a　slight　droop　and　a　complexity　of　faint　creases；　under　some　clear　glass　bell。　　The　perfection　of　household　care；　of　high　polish　and　finish；　always　reigned　in　her　rooms；　but　they　now　looked　most　as　if　everything　had　been　wound　up；　tucked　in；　put　away；　so　that　she　might　sit　with　folded　hands　and　with　nothing　more　to　do。　　She　was　〃out　of　it；〃　to　Marcher's　vision；　her　work　was　over；　she　communicated　with　him　as　across　some　gulf　or　from　some　island　of　rest　that　she　had　already　reached；　and　it　made　him　feel　strangely　abandoned。　　Was　itor　rather　wasn't　itthat　if　for　so　long　she　had　been　watching　with　him　the　answer　to　their　question　must　have　swum　into　her　ken　and　taken　on　its　name；　so　that　her　occupation　was　verily　gone？　　He　had　as　much　as　charged　her　with　this　in　saying　to　her；　many　months　before；　that　she　even　then　knew　something　she　was　keeping　from　him。　　It　was　a　point　he　had　never　since　ventured　to　press；　vaguely　fearing　as　he　did　that　it　might　become　a　difference；　perhaps　a　disagreement；　between　them。　　He　had　in　this　later　time　turned　nervous；　which　was　what　he　in　all　the　other　years　had　never　been；　and　the　oddity　was　that　his　nervousness　should　have　waited　till　he　had　begun　to　doubt；　should　have　held　off　so　long　as　he　was　sure。　　There　was　something；　it　seemed　to　him；　that　the　wrong　word　would　bring　down　on　his　head；　something　that　would　so　at　least　ease　off　his　tension。　　But　he　wanted　not　to　speak　the　wrong　word；　that　would　make　everything　ugly。　　He　wanted　the　knowledge　he　lacked　to　drop　on　him；　if　drop　it　could；　by　its　own　august　weight。　　If　she　was　to　forsake　him　it　was　surely　for　her　to　take　leave。　　This　was　why　he　didn't　directly　ask　her　again　what　she　knew；　but　it　was　also　why；　approaching　the　matter　from　another　side；　he　said　to　her　in　the　course　of　his　visit：　　〃What　do　you　regard　as　the　very　worst　that　at　this　time　of　day　CAN　happen　to　me？〃

He　had　asked　her　that　in　the　past　often　enough；　they　had；　with　the　odd　irregular　rhythm　of　their　intensities　and　avoidances；　exchanged　ideas　about　it　and　then　had　seen　the　ideas　washed　away　by　cool　intervals；　washed　like　figures　traced　in　sea…sand。　　It　had　ever　been　the　mark　of　their　talk　that　the　oldest　allusions　in　it　required　but　a　little　dismissal　and　reaction　to　come　out　again；　sounding　for　the　hour　as　new。　　She　could　thus　at　present　meet　his　enquiry　quite　freshly　and　patiently。　　〃Oh　yes；　I've　repeatedly　thought；　only　it　always　seemed　to　me　of　old　that　I　couldn't　quite　make　up　my　mind。　　I　thought　of　dreadful　things；　between　which　it　was　difficult　to　choose；　and　so　must　you　have　done。〃

〃Rather！　　I　feel　now　as　if　I　had　scarce　done　anything　else。　　I　appear　to　myself　to　have　spent　my　life　in　thinking　of　nothing　but　dreadful　things。　　A　great　many　of　them　I've　at　different　times　named　to　you；　but　there　were　others　I　couldn't　name。〃

〃They　were　too；　too　dreadful？〃

〃Too；　too　dreadfulsome　of　them。〃

She　looked　at　him　a　minute；　and　there　came　to　him　as　he　met　it；　an　inconsequent　sense　that　her　eyes；　when　one　got　their　full　clearness；　were　still　as　beautiful　as　they　had　been　in　youth；　only　beautiful　with　a　strange　cold　lighta　light　that　somehow　was　a　part　of　the　effect；　if　it　wasn't　rather　a　part　of　the　cause；　of　the　pale　hard　sweetness　of　the　season　and　the　hour。　　〃And　yet；〃　she　said　at　last；　〃there　are　horrors　we've　mentioned。〃

I