padre ignacio-第2部分

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vicars　of　every　creed　and　heresy；　and　if　the　parish　is　lonely　and　the

worshipers　few　and　seldom　varying；　a　newcomer　will　gleam　out　like　a　new

book　to　be　read。　And　a　trained　priest　learns　to　read　keenly　the　faces　of

those　who　assemble　to　worship　under　his　guidance。　But　American　vagrants；

with　no　thoughts　save　of　gold…digging；　and　an　overweening　illiterate

jargon　for　speech；　had　long　ceased　to　interest　this　priest；　even　in　his

starvation　for　company　and　talk　from　the　outside　world；　and　therefore

after　the　intoning　he　sat　with　his　homesick　thoughts　unchanged；　to　draw

both　pain　and　enjoyment　from　the　music　that　he　had　set　to　the　Dixit

Dominus。　He　listened　to　the　tender　chorus　that　opens　William　Tell；　and；

as　the　Latin　psalm　proceeded；　pictures　of　the　past　rose　between　him　and

the　altar。　One　after　another　came　these　strains　he　had　taken　from　operas

famous　in　their　day；　until　at　length　the　Padre　was　murmuring　to　some

music　seldom　long　out　of　his　heartnot　the　Latin　verse　which　the　choir

sang；　but　the　original　French　words：



　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　〃Ah；　voile　man　envie；

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Voila　mon　seul　desir：

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Rendez　moi　ma　patrie；

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Ou　laissez　moi　mourir。〃



Which　may　be　rendered：



　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　But　one　wish　I　implore；

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　One　wish　is　all　my　cry：

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Give　back　my　native　land　once　more；

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Give　back；　or　let　me　die。



Then　it　happened　that　his　eye　fell　again　upon　the　stranger　near　the　door；

and　he　skaightway　forgot　his　Dixit　Dominus。　The　face　of　the　young　man　was

no　longer　hidden　by　the　slouching　position　he　had　at　first　taken。　〃I

only　noticed　his　clothes　at　first；〃　thought　the　Padre。　Restlessness　was

plain　upon　the　handsome　brow；　and　violence　was　in　the　mouth；　but　Padre

Ignacio　liked　the　eyes。　〃He　is　not　saying　any　prayers；〃　he　surmised；

presently。　〃I　doubt　if　he　has　said　any　for　a　long　while。　And　he　knows　my

music。　He　is　of　educated　people。　He　cannot　be　American。　And　nowyes；　he

has　takenI　think　it　must　be　a　flower；　from　his　pocket。　I　shall　have　him

to　dine　with　me。〃　And　vespers　ended　with　rosy　clouds　of　eagerness

drifting　across　the　Padre's　brain。







II



But　the　stranger　made　his　own　beginning。　As　the　priest　came　from　the

church；　the　rebellious　young　figure　was　waiting。　〃Your　organist　tells

me；〃　he　said；　impetuously；　〃that　it　is　you　who〃



〃May　I　ask　with　whom　I　have　the　great　pleasure　of　speaking？〃　said　the

Padre；　putting　formality　to　the　front　and　his　pleasure　out　of　sight。



The　stranger's　face　reddened　beneath　its　sun…beaten　bronze；　and　he　became

aware　of　the　Padre's　pale　features；　molded　by　refinement　and　the　world。

〃I　beg　your　lenience；〃　said　he；　with　a　graceful　and　confident　utterance；

as　of　equal　to　equal。　〃My　name　is　Gaston　Villere；　and　it　was　time　I

should　be　reminded　of　my　manners。〃



The　Padre's　hand　waved　a　polite　negative。



〃Indeed；　yes；　Padre。　But　your　music　has　amazed　me。　If　you　carried　such

associations　asAh！　the　days　and　the　nights！〃he　broke　off。　〃To　come

down　a　California　mountain　and　find　Paris　at　the　bottom！　The　Huguenots；

Rossini；　HeroldI　was　waiting　for　Il　Trovatore。〃



〃Is　that　something　new？〃　inquired　the　Padre；　eagerly。



The　young　man　gave　an　exclamation。　〃The　whole　world　is　ringing　with　it！〃

he　cried。



〃But　Santa　YsabeI　del　Mar　is　a　long　way　from　the　whole　world；〃　murmured

Padre　Ignacio。



〃Indeed；　it　would　not　appear　to　be　so；〃　returned　young　Gaston。　〃I　think

the　Comedie　Francaise　must　be　round　the　corner。〃



A　thrill　went　through　the　priest　at　the　theater's　name。　〃And　have　you

been　long　in　America？〃　he　asked。



〃Why；　alwaysexcept　two　years　of　foreign　travel　after　college。〃



〃An　American！〃　exclaimed　the　surprised　Padre；　with　perhaps　a　tone　of

disappointment　in　his　voice。　〃But　no　Americans　who　are　yet　come　this　way

have　beenhave　been〃he　veiled　the　too…blunt　expression　of　his

thought〃have　been　familiar　with　The　Huguenots；〃　he　finished；　making　a

slight　bow。



Villere　took　his　under…meaning。　〃I　come　from　New　Orleans；〃　he　returned；

〃and　in　New　Orleans　there　live　many　of　us　who　can　recognize　awho　can

recognize　good　music　wherever　we　hear　it。〃　And　he　made　a　slight　bow　in

his　turn。



The　Padre　laughed　outright　with　pleasure　and　laid　his　hand　upon　the　young

man's　arm。　〃You　have　no　intention　of　going　away　to…morrow；　I　trust？〃



〃With　your　leave；〃　answered　Gaston；　〃I　will　have　such　an　intention　no

longer。〃



It　was　with　the　air　and　gait　of　mutual　understanding　that　the　two　now

walked　on　together　toward　the　Padre's　door。　The　guest　was　twenty…five；

the　host　sixty。



〃And　have　you　been　in　America　long？〃　inquired　Gaston。



〃Twenty　years。〃



〃And　at　Santa　Ysabel　how　long？〃



〃Twenty　years。〃



〃I　should　have　thought；〃　said　Gaston；　looking　lightly　at　the　desert　and

unpeopIed　mountains；　〃that　now　and　again　you　might　have　wished　to

travel。〃



〃Were　I　your　age；〃　murmured　Padre　Ignacio；　〃it　might　be　so。〃



The　evening　had　now　ripened　to　the　long　after…glow　of　sunset。　The　sea　was

the　purple　of　grapes；　and　wine…colored　hues　flowed　among　the　high

shoulders　of　the　mountains。



〃I　have　seen　a　sight　like　this；〃　said　Gaston；　〃between　Granada　and

Malaga。〃



〃So　you　know　Spain！〃　said　the　Padre。



Often　he　had　thought　of　this　resemblance；　but　never　till　now　met　any　one

to　share　his　thought。　The　courtly　proprietor　of　San　Fernando　and　the

other　patriarchal　rancheros　with　whom　he　occasionally　exchanged　visits

across　the　wilderness　knew　hospitality　and　inherited　gentle　manners；

sending　to　Europe　for　silks　and　laces　to　give　their　daughters；　but　their

eyes　had　not　looked　upon　Granada；　and　their　ears　had　never　listened　to

William　Tell。



〃It　is　quite　singular；〃　pursued　Gaston；　〃how　one　nook　in　the　world　will

suddenly　remind　you　of　another　nook　that　may　be　thousands　of　miles　away。

One　morning；　behind　the　Quai　Voltaire；　an　old；　yellow　house　with　rusty

balconies　made　me　almost　homesick　for　New　Orleans。〃



〃The　Quai　Voltaire！〃　said　the　Padre。



〃I　heard　Rachel　in　Valerie　that　night；〃　the　young　man　went　on。　〃Did　you

know　that　she　could　sing；　too。　She　sang　several　verses　by　an　astonishing

little　Jew　violon…cellist　that　is　come　up　over　there。〃



The　Padre　gazed　down　at　his　blithe　guest。　〃To　see　somebody；　somebody；

once　again；　is　very　pleasant　to　a　hermit！〃



〃It　cannot　be　more　pleasant　than　arriving　at　an　oasis；〃　returned　Gaston。



They　had　delayed　on　the　threshold　to　look　at　the　beauty　of　the　evening；

and　now　the　priest　watched　his　parishioners　come　and　go。　〃How　can　one

make　companions〃　he　began；　then；　checking　himself；　he　said：　〃Their

souls　are　as　sacred　and　immortal　as　mine；　and　God　helps　me　to　help　them。

But　in　this　world　it　is　not　immortal　souls　that　we　choose　for　companions；

it　is　kindred　tastes；　intelligences；　andand　so　I　and　my　books　are

growing　old　together；　you　see；〃　he　added；　more　lightly。　〃You　will　find　my

volumes　as　behind　the　times　as　myself。〃



He　had　fallen　into　talk　more　intimate　than　he　wished；　and　while　the　guest

was　uttering　something　polite　about　the　nobility　of　missionary　work；　he

placed　him　in　an　easy…chair　and　sought　aguardiente　for　his　immediate

refreshment。　Since　the　year's　beginning　there　had　been　no　guest　for　him

to　bring　into　his　rooms；　or　to　sit　beside　him　in　the　high　seats　at　table；

set　apart　for　the　gente　fina。



Such　another　library　was　not　then　in　California；　and　though　Gaston

Villere；　in　leaving　Harvard　College；　had　shut　Horace　and　Sophocles　for

ever　at　the　earliest　instant　possible　under　academic　requirements；　he

knew　the　Greek　and　Latin　names　that　he　now　saw　as　well　as　he　knew　those

of　Shakspere；　Dante；　Moliere；　and　Cervantes。　These　were　here　also；　but　it

could　not　be　precisely　said　of　them；　either；　that　they　made　a　part　of　the

young　man's　daily　reading。　As　he　surveyed　the　Padre's　august　shelves；　it

was　with　a　touch　of　the　histrionic　Southern　gravity　which　his　Northern

education　had　not　wholly　schooled　out　of　him　that　he　said：



〃I　fear　I　am　no　scholar；　sir。　But　I　know　what　writers　every　gentleman

ought　to　respect。〃



The　polished　Padre　bowed　gravely　to　this　compliment。



It　was　when　his　eyes　caught　sight　of　the　music　that　the　young　man　felt

again　at　ease；　and　his　vivacity　returned　to　him。　Leaving　his　chair；　he

began　enthusiastically　to　examine　the　tall　piles　that　filled　one　side　of

the　room。　The　volumes　lay　piled　and　scattered　everywhere；　making　a

pleasant　disorder；　and；　as　perfume　comes　from　a　flower；　memories　of

singers　and　chandeliers　rose　bright　from　the　printed　names。　Norma；

Tancredi；　Don　Pasquale；　La　Vestale；　dim　lights　in　the　fashions　of　to…day；

sparkled　upon　the　exploring　Gaston；　conjuring　the　radiant　halls　of　Europe

before　him。　〃The　Barber　of　Seville！〃　he　presently　exclaimed。　〃And　I

happened　to　hear　it　in　Seville。〃



But　Seville's　name　brought　over　the　Padre　a　new　rush　of　home　thoughts。

〃Is　not　Andalusia　beautiful？〃　he　said。　〃Did　you　see　it　in　April；　when　the

flowers　come？〃



〃Yes；〃　said　Gaston；　among　the　music。　〃I　was　at　Cordova　then。〃



〃Ah；　Cordova！〃　murmured　the　Padre。



〃Semiramide！〃　cried　Gaston；　lighting　upon　that　opera。　〃That　was　a　week！〃

I　should　like　to　live　it　over；　every　day　and　night　of　it！〃



〃Did　you　reach　Malaga　from　Marseilles　or　Gibraltar？〃　asked　the　Padre；

wistfully。



〃From　Marseilles。　Down　from　Paris　through　the　Rhone　Valley；　you　know。〃



〃Then　you　saw　Provence！　And　did　you　go；　perhaps；　from　Avignon　to　Nismes

by　the　Pont　du　Gard？　There　is　a　place　I　have　made　herea　little；　little

placewith　olive…trees。　And　now　they　have　grown；　and　it　looks　something

like　that　country；　if　you　stand　in　a　particular　position。　I　will　take　you

there　to…morrow。　I　think　you　will　understand　what　I　mean。〃



〃Another　resemblance！〃　said　the　volatile　and　happy　Gaston。　〃We　both　seem

to　have　an　eye　for　them。　But；　believe　me；　Padre；　I　could　never　stay　here

plant