on the firing line-第2部分

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el's　experience　was　the　broader　for　her　hilarious　ride　in　a　bullock…drawn　palanquin。　Weldon's　experience　was　more　instructive。　It　taught　him　that；　her　hat　awry　and　her　yellow　hair　loosened　about　her　laughing　face；　Ethel　Dent　was　tenfold　more　attractive　than　when　she　made　her　usual　decorous　entrance　to　the　dining…room。

Mrs。　Scott　had　been　a　willing　chaperon　and　an　efficient　one。　Nevertheless；　as　they　stood　together　in　the　stern；　looking　out　across　the　gold…flecked　sea；　Weldon　felt　that　he　had　made　a　long　stride；　that　morning；　towards　acquaintance　with　his　companion。　And；　even　now；　the　voyage　was　nearly　all　before　them。

As　if　in　answer　to　his　thoughts；　she　lifted　her　eyes　to　his　face。

〃Twelve　more　days！〃　she　said　slowly。

〃Are　you　sorry？〃

She　shook　her　head。

〃Glad　and　sorry　both。　I　love　the　sea；　but　home　is　at　the　end　of　it。〃

〃You　live　out　there？〃　he　asked。

She　smiled　at　the　question。　〃Yes；　if　out　there　means　Cape　Town。　At　least；　my　parents　live　there。〃

〃How　long　have　you　been　in　England？〃　he　queried；　while；　abandoning　all　pretence　of　interest　in　the　fast…vanishing　town；　he　turned　his　back　to　the　rail　in　order　to　face　his　companion　more　directly。

〃Always；　except　for　one　year；　six　years　ago；　and　a　summersummer　in　England；　I　meantwo　years　later。〃

Rather　inconsequently；　Weldon　attacked　the　side　issue　suggested　by　her　words。

〃How　does　it　seem　to　have　one's　seasons　standing　on　their　heads？〃

She　answered　question　with　question。　〃Haven't　you　been　out　before？〃

〃No。〃

〃I　supposed　you　had　taken　the　voyage　any　number　of　times。　But　about　the　seasons；　it　doesn't　count　for　much　until　you　come　to　Christmas。　No　England…born　mortal　can　hang　up　his　stocking　in　mid…summer　without　a　pang　of　regretful　homesickness。〃

Weldon　laughed。

〃Do　you　substitute　a　refrigerator　for　a　chimney　corner？〃　he　asked。　〃But　are　you　England…born？〃

〃Yes。　My　father　went　out　only　seven　years　ago。　The　'home'　tradition　is　so　strong　that　I　was　sent　back　to　school　and　for　a　year　of　social　life。　My　little　brother　goes　to　Harrow　in　two　years。　Even　in　Cape　Town；　a　few　people　still　hold　true　to　the　tradition　of　the　public　school。〃

Weldon　nodded　assent。

〃We　meet　it　in　Canada；　now　and　then；　not　too　often；　though。　So　in　reality　you　are　almost　as　much　a　stranger　to　Cape　Town　as　I　am。〃

〃Quite。　My　father　says　it　is　all　changed　now。　It　used　to　be　a　lazy　little　place；　now　it　is　pandemonium；　soldiers　and　supplies　going　out；　time…expired　men　and　invalids　coming　in。　Mr。　Weldon〃

His　questioning　smile　answered　the　pause　in　her　sentence。

〃Well？〃　he　asked；　after　a　prolonged　interval。

Her　teeth　shut　on　her　lower　lip；　she　stared　at　the　wide　blue　sea　with　wide　blue　eyes。　Something　in　its　restless　tossing；　in　the　changing　lights　that　darted　back　to　her　from　the　crests　of　the　waves；　seemed　to　be　holding　her　in　an　hypnotic　trance。　Out　of　the　midst　of　the　trance　she　spoke　again；　and　it　was　plain　to　Weldon；　as　he　listened　to　her　low；　intent　voice；　that　her　thoughts　were　not　upon　the　sea　nor　yet　upon　him。

〃It　ought　to　terrify　me；〃　she　said。　〃I　mean　the　war；　of　course。　I　ought　to　dread　the　going　out　into　the　atmosphere　of　it。　I　don't。　Sometimes　I　think　I　must　have　fighting　blood　in　my　veins。　Instead　of　being　frightened　at　what　my　father　writes　me；　I　feel　stirred　by　it　all；　as　if　I　were　ready　for　anything。　I　went　out　to　Aldershot；　one　day　last　year；　but　that　was　only　so　many　dainty　frills；　so　much　playing　soldier。　That's　not　what　I　mean　at　all。〃　Turning　suddenly；　she　looked　up　directly　into　Weldon's　dark　gray　eyes。　〃One　of　my　cousins　wants　to　be　a　nurse。　She　lives　at　Piquetberg　Road；　but　she　has　been　visiting　friends　who　live　in　Natal　on　the　edge　of　the　fighting；　where　she　has　seen　things　as　they　happen。　In　her　last　letter；　she　told　me　that　she　was　only　waiting　for　my　uncle's　permission　to　go　out　as　a　nurse。〃

〃Is　that　what　you　would　do？〃

Her　head　lifted　itself　proudly。

〃No。　She　can　take　care　of　the　wounded　men；　if　she　chooses。　For　my　part；　I'd　rather　cheer　on　the　men　who　are　starting　for　the　front。　If　I　could　know　that　one　man；　one　single　man；　fought　the　better　for　having　known　me；　I　should　feel　as　if　I　had　done　my　share。〃

She　spoke　with　fiery　vigor；　then　her　eyes　dropped　again　to　the　dancing　waves。　When　at　length　she　spoke　again；　she　was　once　more　the　level…voiced　English　girl　who　sat　next　him　at　the　table。

〃You　are　going　out　to　Cape　Town　to　stay；　Mr。　Weldon？〃　she　asked；　with　an　accent　so　utterly　conventional　that　Weldon　almost　doubted　his　own　ears。

〃To　stay　until　the　war　ends；〃　he　replied；　in　an　accent　as　conventional　as　her　own。

〃In　Cape　Town？〃　Then　she　felt　her　eyes　drawn　to　meet　his　eyes；　as　he　answered　quietly；

〃I　shall　do　my　best　to　make　myself　a　place　in　the　firing　line。〃

Again　her　conventionality　vanished；　and　she　gave　him　her　hand；　as　if　to　seal　a　compact。

〃I　hope　you　will　win　it　and　hold　it；〃　she　responded　slowly。　〃I　can　wish　you　nothing　better。〃




CHAPTER　TWO


A　berugged；　bedraggled　bundle　of　apologies；　Miss　Ophelia　Arthur　lay　prone　in　her　steamer　chair；　her　cheeks　pale；　her　eyes　closed。　Her　conscience；　directed　towards　the　interests　of　her　charge；　demanded　her　presence　on　deck。　Once　on　deck　and　apparently　on　guard；　Miss　Arthur　limply　subsided　into　a　species　of　coma。　Her　charge；　meanwhile；　rosy　and　alert；　sat　in　the　lee　of　a　friendly　ventilating　shaft。　Beside　her；　also　in　the　lee　of　the　ventilating　shaft；　sat　Mr。　Harvard　Weldon。

The　past　week　had　been　full　of　the　petty　events　which　make　up　life　on　shipboard。　The　trail　of　smoke　from　a　passing　steamer；　the　first　shoal　of　flying　fish；　the　inevitable　dance；　the　equally　inevitable　concert　and；　most　inevitable　of　all；　the　Sabbatic　contest　between　the　captain　and　the　fresh…water　clergyman　who　insists　upon　reading　service：　all　these　are　old　details；　yet　ever　new。　Throughout　them　all；　Weldon　had　sturdily　maintained　his　place　at　Ethel's　side。　By　tacit　consent；　the　girl　had　been　transferred　to　the　motherly　care　of　Mrs。　Scott　who；　after　a　keen　inspection　of　Weldon；　had　decided　that　it　was　safe　to　take　upon　trust　this　clean…eyed；　long…legged　Canadian　who　was　so　obviously　well…born　and　well…bred。

Now　and　then　Carew　joined　the　group；　but　the　handsome；　dashing　young　fellow　had　no　mind　to　play　the　part　of　second　violin。　He　would　be　concertmaster　or　nothing。　Accordingly；　he　withdrew　to　the　rival　corner　where　a　swarthy　little　French　girl　maintained　her　court　without　help　from　any　apparent　chaperonage　whatsoever。　Left　in　possession　of　the　field；　Weldon　made　the　most　of　his　chances。　The　acknowledged　attendant　of　Ethel；　his　jovial　ministrations　overflowed　to　Mrs。　Scott；　until　the　sedate　colonel's　wife　admitted　to　herself　that　no　such　pleasant　voyage　had　fallen　to　her　lot　since　the　days　when　she　had　started　for　India　on　her　wedding　journey。　Weldon　had　the　consummate　tact　to　keep　the　taint　of　the　filial　from　his　chivalry。　His　attentions　to　Mrs。　Scott　and　Ethel　differed　in　degree；　but　not　in　kind；　and　Mrs。　Scott　adored　him　accordingly。　One　by　one；　the　languid　days　dropped　into　the　past。　Neptune　had　duly　escorted　them　over　the　Line；　to　the　boredom　of　the　first…class　passengers　and　the　strident　mirth　of　the　rest　of　the　ship's　colony。　Winter　was　already　behind　them；　and　the　late　December　days　took　on　more　and　more　of　the　guise　of　summer；　as　the　log　marked　their　passing　to　the　southward。　To　many　on　board；　the　idle　passage　was　a　winter　holiday；　but　to　Weldon　and　Carew　and　a　dozen　more　stalwart　fellows；　those　quiet　days　were　the　hush　before　the　breaking　of　the　storm。　Home；　school；　the　university　were　behind　them；　before　them　lay　the　crash　of　war。　And　afterwards？　Glory；　or　death。　Their　healthy；　boyish　optimism　could　see　no　third　alternative。

For　ten　long　days；　Miss　Ophelia　Arthur　lay　prone　in　her　berth。　Her　hymnal　and　her　Imitation　lay　beside　her；　but　she　read　less　than　she　pondered；　and　she　invariably　pondered　with　her　eyes　closed　and　her　mouth　ajar。　On　the　eleventh　day；　however；　she　gathered　herself　together　and　went　on　deck。　With　anxious　care　Weldon　tucked　the　rugs　about　her　elderly　frame。　Then　he　exchanged　a　glance　with　Ethel　and　together　they　sought　the　shelter　of　the　ventilating　shaft。

Nothing　shows　the　temperature　more　surely　than　the　tint　of　the　gray　sea。　It　was　a　warm　gray；　that　morning；　and　the　bowl…like　sky　above　was　gray　from　the　horizon　far　towards　the　blue　zenith。　From　the　other　end　of　the　ship；　they　could　hear　the　plaudits　that　accompanied　an　impromptu　athletic　tournament；　but　the　inhabitants　of　the　nearest　chairs　were　reading　or　dozing；　and　the　deck　about　them　was　very　still。　Only　the　throbbing　of　the　mighty　screw　and　the　hiss　of　the　cleft　waves　broke　the　hush。

Out　of　the　hush；　Ethel　spoke　abruptly。

〃Do　you　know；　Mr。　Weldon；　you　have　never　told　me　what　brings　you　out　here。〃

He　had　been　sitting；　chin　on　his　fists；　staring　out　across　the　gray；　foam…flecked　water。　Now　he　looked　up　at　her　in　surprise。

〃I　thought　you　knew。　The　war；　of　course。〃

〃Yes；　but　where　are　you　going？〃

〃To　somewhere　on　the　firing　line。　Beyond　that　I've　not　the　least　idea。〃

〃Where　is　your　regiment　now？〃

〃I　haven't　any。〃

She　frowned　in　perplexity。

〃I　think　I　don't　quite　understand。〃

〃I　mean　I　haven't　enlisted　yet。〃

〃But　your　commission？〃　she　urged。

〃I　have　no　commission；　Miss　Dent。〃

〃Notany　commission！〃　she　said　blankly。

In　site　of　himself；　he　laughed　at　her　tone。

〃Certainly　not。　I　am　going　as　a　soldier。〃

She　sat　staring　at　him　in　thoughtful　silence。

〃But　you　are　a　gentleman；〃　she　said　slowly　at　length。

Weldon's　mouth　twitched　at　the　corners。

〃I　hope　so；〃　he　assented。

〃Then　how　can　you　go　as　soldier；　for　I　suppose　you　mean　private？〃

Dictated　by　generations…old　tradition；　the　question　was　eloquent。　Weldon's　one　purpose；　however；　was　to　combat　that　tradition；　and　he　answered　calmly；

〃Why　not？〃

〃Becausebecause　it　isn't　neat；〃　she　responded　unexpectedly。

This　time；　Weldon　laughed　outright。　Trained　in　the　wider；　more　open…　air　school　of　Canadian　life；　he　found　her　insular　point　of　view　distinctly　comic。

〃I　have　a　portable　tub　somewhere　among　my　luggage；〃　he　reassured　her。

She　shook　her　head。

〃No；　that's　not　what　I　mean。　But　you　won't　be　thrown　with　men　of　your　own　class。　The　private　is　a　distinct　race；　you'll　f