the glimpses of the moon-第17部分

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you！〃　　She　turned　and　laid　a　deprecating　hand　on　his　arm。

〃Streffy；　old　dear；　don't　mind　me：　　but　for　God's　sake　find　a

gondola　and　send　me　home。〃



〃Alone？〃



〃Alone。〃



It　was　never　any　concern　of　Streff's　if　people　wanted　to　do

things　he　did　not　understand；　and　she　knew　that　she　could　count

on　his　obedience。　　They　walked　on　in　silence　to　the　next　canal；

and　he　picked　up　a　passing　gondola　and　put　her　in　it。



〃Now　go　and　amuse　yourself；〃　she　called　after　him；　as　the　boat

shot　under　the　nearest　bridge。　　Anything；　anything；　to　be　alone；

away　from　the　folly　and　futility　that　would　be　all　she　had　left

if　Nick　were　to　drop　out　of　her　life　。。。。



〃But　perhaps　he　has　dropped　alreadydropped　for　good；〃　she

thought　as　she　set　her　foot　on　the　Vanderlyn　threshold。



The　short　summer　night　was　already　growing　transparent：　　a　new

born　breeze　stirred　the　soiled　surface　of　the　water　and　sent　it

lapping　freshly　against　the　old　palace　doorways。　　Nearly　two

o'clock！　　Nick　had　no　doubt　come　back　long　ago。　　Susy　hurried　up

the　stairs；　reassured　by　the　mere　thought　of　his　nearness。　　She

knew　that　when　their　eyes　and　their　lips　met　it　would　be

impossible　for　anything　to　keep　them　apart。



The　gondolier　dozing　on　the　landing　roused　himself　to　receive

her；　and　to　proffer　two　envelopes。　　The　upper　one　was　a　telegram

for　Strefford：　　she　threw　it　down　again　and　paused　under　the

lantern　hanging　from　the　painted　vault；　the　other　envelope　in

her　hand。　　The　address　it　bore　was　in　Nick's　writing。　　〃When　did

the　signore　leave　this　for　me？　　Has　he　gone　out　again？〃



Gone　out　again？　　But　the　signore　had　not　come　in　since　dinner：

of　that　the　gondolier　was　positive；　as　he　had　been　on　duty　all

the　evening。　　A　boy　had　brought　the　letteran　unknown　boy：　　he

had　left　it　without　waiting。　　It　must　have　been　about　half　an

hour　after　the　signora　had　herself　gone　out　with　her　guests。



Susy；　hardly　hearing　him；　fled　on　to　her　own　room；　and　there；

beside　the　very　lamp　which；　two　months　before；　had　illuminated

Ellie　Vanderlyn's　fatal　letter；　she　opened　Nick's。



〃Don't　think　me　hard　on　you；　dear；　but　I've　got　to　work　this

thing　out　by　myself。　　The　sooner　the　better…don't　you　agree？　　So

I'm　taking　the　express　to　Milan　presently。　　You'll　get　a　proper

letter　in　a　day　or　two。　　I　wish　I　could　think；　now；　of　something

to　say　that　would　show　you　I'm　not　a　brutebut　I　can't。　N。　L。　〃



There　was　not　much　of　the　night　left　in　which　to　sleep；　even　had

a　semblance　of　sleep　been　achievable。　　The　letter　fell　from

Susy's　hands；　and　she　crept　out　onto　the　balcony　and　cowered

there；　her　forehead　pressed　against　the　balustrade；　the　dawn

wind　stirring　in　her　thin　laces。　　Through　her　closed　eyelids　and

the　tightly…clenched　fingers　pressed　against　them；　she　felt　the

penetration　of　the　growing　light；　the　relentless　advance　of

another　daya　day　without　purpose　and　without　meaninga　day

without　Nick。　　At　length　she　dropped　her　hands；　and　staring　from

dry　lids　saw　a　rim　of　fire　above　the　roofs　across　the　Grand

Canal。　　She　sprang　up；　ran　back　into　her　room；　and　dragging　the

heavy　curtains　shut　across　the　windows；　stumbled　over　in　the

darkness　to　the　lounge　and　fell　among　its　pillows…face

downwardgroping；　delving　for　a　deeper　night　。。。。



She　started　up；　stiff　and　aching；　to　see　a　golden　wedge　of　sun

on　the　floor　at　her　feet。　　She　had　slept；　thenwas　it

possible？it　must　be　eight　or　nine　o'clock　already！　　She　had

sleptslept　like　a　drunkardwith　that　letter　on　the　table　at

her　elbow！　　Ah；　now　she　rememberedshe　had　dreamed　that　the

letter　was　a　dream！　　But　there；　inexorably；　it　lay；　and　she

picked　it　up；　and　slowly；　painfully　re…read　it。　　Then　she　tore

it　into　shreds　hunted　for　a　match；　and　kneeling　before　the　empty

hearth；　as　though　she　were　accomplishing　some　funeral　rite；　she

burnt　every　shred　of　it　to　ashes。　　Nick　would　thank　her　for　that

some　day！



After　a　bath　and　a　hurried　toilet　she　began　to　be　aware　of

feeling　younger　and　more　hopeful。　　After　all；　Nick　had　merely

said　that　he　was　going　away　for　〃a　day　or　two。〃　　And　the　letter

was　not　cruel：　　there　were　tender　things　in　it；　showing　through

the　curt　words。　　She　smiled　at　herself　a　little　stiffly　in　the

glass；　put　a　dash　of　red　on　her　colourless　lips；　and　rang　for

the　maid。



〃Coffee；　Giovanna；　please；　and　will　you　tell　Mr。　Strefford　that

I　should　like　to　see　him　presently。〃



If　Nick　really　kept　to　his　intention　of　staying　away　for　a　few

days　she　must　trump　up　some　explanation　of　his　absence；　but　her

mind　refused　to　work；　and　the　only　thing　she　could　think　of　was

to　take　Strefford　into　her　confidence。　　She　knew　that　he　could

be　trusted　in　a　real　difficulty；　his　impish　malice　transformed

itself　into　a　resourceful　ingenuity　when　his　friends　required

it。



The　maid　stood　looking　at　her　with　a　puzzled　gaze；　and　Susy

somewhat　sharply　repeated　her　order。　　〃But　don't　wake　him　on

purpose；〃　she　added；　foreseeing　the　probable　effect　on

Strefford's　temper。



〃But；　signora；　the　gentleman　is　already　out。〃



〃Already　out？〃　　Strefford；　who　could　hardly　be　routed　from　his

bed　before　luncheon…time！　　〃Is　it　so　late？〃　Susy　cried；

incredulous。



〃After　nine。　　And　the　gentleman　took　the　eight　o'clock　train　for

England。　　Gervaso　said　he　had　received　a　telegram。　　He　left　word

that　he　would　write　to　the　signora。〃



The　door　closed　upon　the　maid；　and　Susy　continued　to　gaze　at　her

painted　image　in　the　glass；　as　if　she　had　been　trying　to

outstare　an　importunate　stranger。　　There　was　no　one　left　for　her

to　take　counsel　of；　thenno　one　but　poor　Fred　Gillow！　　She　made

a　grimace　at　the　idea。



But　what　on　earth　could　have　summoned　Strefford　back　to　England？







XII



NICK　LANSING；　in　the　Milan　express；　was　roused　by　the　same　bar

of　sunshine　lying　across　his　knees。　　He　yawned；　looked　with

disgust　at　his　stolidly　sleeping　neighbours；　and　wondered　why　he

had　decided　to　go　to　Milan；　and　what　on　earth　he　should　do　when

he　got　there。　　The　difficulty　about　trenchant　decisions　was　that

the　next　morning　they　generally　left　one　facing　a　void　。。。。



When　the　train　drew　into　the　station　at　Milan；　he　scrambled　out；

got　some　coffee；　and　having　drunk　it　decided　to　continue　his

journey　to　Genoa。　　The　state　of　being　carried　passively　onward

postponed　action　and　dulled　thought；　and　after　twelve　hours　of

furious　mental　activity　that　was　exactly　what　he　wanted。



He　fell　into　a　doze　again；　waking　now　and　then　to　haggard

intervals　of　more　thinking；　and　then　dropping　off　to　the　clank

and　rattle　of　the　train。　　Inside　his　head；　in　his　waking

intervals；　the　same　clanking　and　grinding　of　wheels　and　chains

went　on　unremittingly。　　He　had　done　all　his　lucid　thinking

within　an　hour　of　leaving　the　Palazzo　Vanderlyn　the　night

before；　since　then；　his　brain　had　simply　continued　to　revolve

indefatigably　about　the　same　old　problem。　　His　cup　of　coffee；

instead　of　clearing　his　thoughts；　had　merely　accelerated　their

pace。



At　Genoa　he　wandered　about　in　the　hot　streets；　bought　a　cheap

suit…case　and　some　underclothes；　and　then　went　down　to　the　port

in　search　of　a　little　hotel　he　remembered　there。　　An　hour　later

he　was　sitting　in　the　coffee…room；　smoking　and　glancing　vacantly

over　the　papers　while　he　waited　for　dinner；　when　he　became　aware

of　being　timidly　but　intently　examined　by　a　small　round…faced

gentleman　with　eyeglasses　who　sat　alone　at　the　adjoining　table。



〃HulloButtles！〃　　Lansing　exclaimed；　recognising　with　surprise

the　recalcitrant　secretary　who　had　resisted　Miss　Hicks's

endeavour　to　convert　him　to　Tiepolo。



Mr。　Buttles；　blushing　to　the　roots　of　his　scant　hair；　half　rose

and　bowed　ceremoniously。



Nick　Lansing's　first　feeling　was　of　annoyance　at　being　disturbed

in　his　solitary　broodings；　his　next；　of　relief　at　having　to

postpone　them　even　to　converse　with　Mr。　Buttles。



〃No　idea　you　were　here：　　is　the　yacht　in　harbour？〃　he　asked；

remembering　that　the　Ibis　must　be　just　about　to　spread　her

wings。



Mr。　Buttles；　at　salute　behind　his　chair；　signed　a　mute　negation：

for　the　moment　he　seemed　too　embarrassed　to　speak。



〃Ahyou're　here　as　an　advance　guard？　　I　remember　nowI　saw

Miss　Hicks　in　Venice　the　day　before　yesterday；〃　Lansing

continued；　dazed　at　the　thought　that　hardly　forty…eight　hours

had　passed　since　his　encounter　with　Coral　in　the　Scalzi。



Mr。　Buttles；　instead　of　speaking；　had　tentatively　approached　his

table。　　〃May　I　take　this　seat　for　a　moment；　Mr。　Lansing？　　Thank

you。　　No；　I　am　not　here　as　an　advance　guardthough　I　believe

the　Ibis　is　due　some　time　to…morrow。〃　　He　cleared　his　throat；

wiped　his　eyeglasses　on　a　silk　handkerchief；　replaced　them　on

his　nose；　and　went　on　solemnly：　　〃Perhaps；　to　clear　up　any

possible　misunderstanding；　I　ought　to　say　that　I　am　no　longer　in

the　employ　of　Mr。　Hicks。〃



Lansing　glanced　at　him　sympathetically。　　It　was　clear　that　he

suffered　horribly　in　imparting　this　information；　though　his

compact　face　did　not　lend　itself　to　any　dramatic　display　of

emotion。



〃Really；〃　Nick　smiled；　and　then　ventured：　　〃I　hope　it's　not

owing　to　conscientious　objections　to　Tiepolo？〃



Mr。　Buttles's　blush　became　a　smouldering　agony。　　〃Ah；　Miss　Hicks

mentioned　to　you　。。。　told　you　。。。？　　No；　Mr。　Lansing。　　I　am

principled　against　the　effete　art　of　Tiepolo；　and　of　all　his

contemporaries；　I　confess；　but　if　Miss　Hicks　chooses　to

surrender　herself　momentarily　to　the　unwholesome　spell　of　the

Italian　decadence　it　is　not　for　me　to　protest　or　to　criticize。

Her　intellectual　and　aesthetic　range　so　far　exceeds　my　humble

capacity　that　it　would　be　ridiculous；　unbecoming　。。。。〃



He　broke　off；　and　once　more　wiped　a　faint　moisture　from　his

eyeglasses。　　It　was　evident　that　he　was　suffering　from　a

distress　which　he　longed　and　yet　dreaded　to　communicate。　　But

Nick　made　no　farther　effort　to　bridge　the　gulf　of　his　own

preoccupations；　and　Mr。　Buttles；　after　an