a death in the desert-第6部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！





lifted　the　mask　from　her　soul；　that　was　both　courage　and　despair；



and　full　of　infinite　loyalty　and　tenderness；　as　she　said　softly：







　　　　　For　ever　and　for　ever；　farewell；　Cassius；



　　　　　If　we　do　meet　again；　why；　we　shall　smile；



　　　　　If　not；　why　then；　this　parting　was　well　made。







The　courage　in　her　eyes　was　like　the　clear　light　of　a　star　to　him



as　he　went　out。







On　the　night　of　Adriance　Hilgarde's　opening　concert　in　Paris



Everett　sat　by　the　bed　in　the　ranch　house　in　Wyoming；　watching



over　the　last　battle　that　we　have　with　the　flesh　before　we　are



done　with　it　and　free　of　it　forever。　　At　times　it　seemed　that　the



serene　soul　of　her　must　have　left　already　and　found　some　refuge



from　the　storm；　and　only　the　tenacious　animal　life　were　left　to　do



battle　with　death。　　She　labored　under　a　delusion　at　once　pitiful



and　merciful；　thinking　that　she　was　in　the　Pullman　on　her　way　to



New　York；　going　back　to　her　life　and　her　work。　　When　she　aroused



from　her　stupor　it　was　only　to　ask　the　porter　to　waken　her　half　an



hour　out　of　Jersey　City；　or　to　remonstrate　with　him　about　the



delays　and　the　roughness　of　the　road。　　At　midnight　Everett　and　the



nurse　were　left　alone　with　her。　　Poor　Charley　Gaylord　had　lain　down



on　a　couch　outside　the　door。　　Everett　sat　looking　at　the　sputtering



night　lamp　until　it　made　his　eyes　ache。　　His　head　dropped　forward



on　the　foot　of　the　bed；　and　he　sank　into　a　heavy；　distressful



slumber。　　He　was　dreaming　of　Adriance's　concert　in　Paris；　and　of



Adriance；　the　troubadour；　smiling　and　debonair；　with　his　boyish



face　and　the　touch　of　silver　gray　in　his　hair。　　He　heard　the



applause　and　he　saw　the　roses　going　up　over　the　footlights　until



they　were　stacked　half　as　high　as　the　piano；　and　the　petals　fell



and　scattered；　making　crimson　splotches　on　the　floor。　　Down　this



crimson　pathway　came　Adriance　with　his　youthful　step；　leading　his



prima　donna　by　the　hand；　a　dark　woman　this　time；　with　Spanish　eyes。







The　nurse　touched　him　on　the　shoulder；　he　started　and　awoke。　



She　screened　the　lamp　with　her　hand。　　Everett　saw　that　Katharine



was　awake　and　conscious；　and　struggling　a　little。　　He　lifted　her



gently　on　his　arm　and　began　to　fan　her。　　She　laid　her　hands



lightly　on　his　hair　and　looked　into　his　face　with　eyes　that



seemed　never　to　have　wept　or　doubted。　　〃Ah；　dear　Adriance；　dear；



dear；〃　she　whispered。







Everett　went　to　call　her　brother；　but　when　they　came　back



the　madness　of　art　was　over　for　Katharine。







Two　days　later　Everett　was　pacing　the　station　siding；



waiting　for　the　westbound　train。　　Charley　Gaylord　walked　beside



him；　but　the　two　men　had　nothing　to　say　to　each　other。　　Everett's



bags　were　piled　on　the　truck；　and　his　step　was　hurried　and　his



eyes　were　full　of　impatience；　as　he　gazed　again　and　again　up　the



track；　watching　for　the　train。　　Gaylord's　impatience　was　not　less



than　his　own；　these　two；　who　had　grown　so　close；　had　now　become



painful　and　impossible　to　each　other；　and　longed　for　the



wrench　of　farewell。







As　the　train　pulled　in　Everett　wrung　Gaylord's　hand　among



the　crowd　of　alighting　passengers。　　The　people　of　a　German　opera



company；　en　route　to　the　coast；　rushed　by　them　in　frantic　haste



to　snatch　their　breakfast　during　the　stop。　　Everett　heard　an



exclamation　in　a　broad　German　dialect；　and　a　massive　woman　whose



figure　persistently　escaped　from　her　stays　in　the　most　improbable



places　rushed　up　to　him；　her　blond　hair　disordered　by　the　wind；



and　glowing　with　joyful　surprise　she　caught　his　coat　sleeve　with



her　tightly　gloved　hands。







〃Herr　Gott；　Adriance；　lieber　Freund；〃　she　cried；



emotionally。







Everett　quickly　withdrew　his　arm　and　lifted　　his　hat；



blushing。　　〃Pardon　me；　madam；　but　I　see　that　　you　have　mistaken



me　for　Adriance　Hilgarde。　　I　am　his　brother；〃　he　said　quietly；



and　turning　from　the　crestfallen　singer；　he　hurried　into　the　car。







End