The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第29部分

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triumphant　before。　Suddenly　his　heart　was　torn　with　passion
for　her。　He　became　alive　again；　in　an　anguish　of　passion。　He
could　not　bear　to　think　of　her　tearshe　could　not　bear　it。
He　wanted　to　go　to　her　and　pour　out　his　heart's　blood　to　her。　He
wanted　to　give　everything　to　her；　all　his　blood；　his　life；　to
the　last　dregs；　pour　everything　away　to　her。　He　yearned　with
passionate　desire　to　offer　himself　to　her；　utterly。

The　evening　star　came；　and　the　night。　She　had　not　lighted　the
lamp。　His　heart　burned　with　pain　and　with　grief。　He　trembled　to
go　to　her。

And　at　last　he　went；　hesitating；　burdened　with　a　great
offering。　The　hardness　had　gone　out　of　him；　his　body　was
sensitive；　slightly　trembling。　His　hand　was　curiously　sensitive；
shrinking；　as　he　shut　the　door。　He　fixed　the　latch　almost
tenderly。

In　the　kitchen　was　only　the　fireglow；　he　could　not　see　her。
He　quivered　with　dread　lest　she　had　gonehe　knew　not
where。　In　shrinking　dread；　he　went　through　to　the　parlour；　to
the　foot　of　the　stairs。

〃Anna；〃　he　called。

There　was　no　answer。　He　went　up　the　stairs；　in　dread　of　the
empty　housethe　horrible　emptiness　that　made　his　heart
ring　with　insanity。　He　opened　the　bedroom　door；　and　his　heart
flashed　with　certainty　that　she　had　gone；　that　he　was　alone。

But　he　saw　her　on　the　bed；　lying　very　still　and　scarcely
noticeable；　with　her　back　to　him。　He　went　and　put　his　hand　on
her　shoulder；　very　gently；　hesitating；　in　a　great　fear　and
selfoffering。　She　did　not　move。

He　waited。　The　hand　that　touched　her　shoulder　hurt　him；　as　if
she　were　sending　it　away。　He　stood　dim　with　pain。

〃Anna；〃　he　said。

But　still　she　was　motionless；　like　a　curled　up；　oblivious
creature。　His　heart　beat　with　strange　throes　of　pain。　Then；　by　a
motion　under　his　hand；　he　knew　she　was　crying；　holding　herself
hard　so　that　her　tears　should　not　be　known。　He　waited。　The
tension　continuedperhaps　she　was　not　cryingthen
suddenly　relapsed　with　a　sharp　catch　of　a　sob。　His　heart　flamed
with　love　and　suffering　for　her。　Kneeling　carefully　on　the　bed；
so　that　his　earthy　boots　should　not　touch　it；　he　took　her　in　his
arms　to　fort　her。　The　sobs　gathered　in　her；　she　was　sobbing
bitterly。　But　not　to　him。　She　was　still　away　from　him。

He　held　her　against　his　breast；　whilst　she　sobbed；　withheld
from　him；　and　all　his　body　vibrated　against　her。

〃Don't　crydon't　cry；〃　he　said；　with　an　odd　simplicity。
His　heart　was　calm　and　numb　with　a　sort　of　innocence　of　love；
now。

She　still　sobbed；　ignoring　him；　ignoring　that　he　held　her。
His　lips　were　dry。

〃Don't　cry；　my　love；〃　he　said；　in　the　same　abstract　way。　In
his　breast　his　heart　burned　like　a　torch；　with　suffering。　He
could　not　bear　the　desolateness　of　her　crying。　He　would　have
soothed　her　with　his　blood。　He　heard　the　church　clock　chime；　as
if　it　touched　him；　and　he　waited　in　suspense　for　it　to　have　gone
by。　It　was　quiet　again。

〃My　love；〃　he　said　to　her；　bending　to　touch　her　wet　face　with
his　mouth。　He　was　afraid　to　touch　her。　How　wet　her　face　was！　His
body　trembled　as　he　held　her。　He　loved　her　till　he　felt　his
heart　and　all　his　veins　would　burst　and　flood　her　with　his　hot；
healing　blood。　He　knew　his　blood　would　heal　and　restore　her。

She　was　being　quieter。　He　thanked　the　God　of　mercy　that　at
last　she　was　being　quieter。　His　head　felt　so　strange　and
blazed。　Still　he　held　her　close；　with　trembling　arms。　His　blood
seemed　very　strong；　enveloping　her。

And　at　last　she　began　to　draw　near　to　him；　she　nestled　to
him。　His　limbs；　his　body；　took　fire　and　beat　up　in　flames。　She
clung　to　him；　she　cleaved　to　his　body。　The　flames　swept　him；　he
held　her　in　sinews　of　fire。　If　she　would　kiss　him！　He　bent　his
mouth　down。　And　her　mouth；　soft　and　moist；　received　him。　He　felt
his　veins　would　burst　with　anguish　of　thankfulness；　his　heart
was　mad　with　gratefulness；　he　could　pour　himself　out　upon　her
for　ever。

When　they　came　to　themselves；　the　night　was　very　dark。　Two
hours　had　gone　by。　They　lay　still　and　warm　and　weak；　like　the
newborn；　together。　And　there　was　a　silence　almost　of　the
unborn。　Only　his　heart　was　weeping　happily；　after　the　pain。　He
did　not　understand；　he　had　yielded；　given　way。　There　was
no　understanding。　There　could　be　only　acquiescence　and
submission；　and　tremulous　wonder　of　consummation。

The　next　morning；　when　they　woke　up；　it　had　snowed。　He
wondered　what　was　the　strange　pallor　in　the　air；　and　the　unusual
tang。　Snow　was　on　the　grass　and　the　windowsill；　it　weighed　down
the　black；　ragged　branches　of　the　yews；　and　smoothed　the　graves
in　the　churchyard。

Soon；　it　began　to　snow　again；　and　they　were　shut　in。　He　was
glad；　for　then　they　were　immune　in　a　shadowy　silence；　there　was
no　world；　no　time。

The　snow　lasted　for　some　days。　On　the　Sunday　they　went　to
church。　They　made　a　line　of　footprints　across　the　garden；　he
left　a　flat　snowprint　of　his　hand　on　the　wall　as　he　vaulted
over；　they　traced　the　snow　across　the　churchyard。　For　three　days
they　had　been　immune　in　a　perfect　love。

There　were　very　few　people　in　church；　and　she　was　glad。　She
did　not　care　much　for　church。　She　had　never　questioned　any
beliefs；　and　she　was；　from　habit　and　custom；　a　regular　attendant
at　morning　service。　But　she　had　ceased　to　e　with　any
anticipation。　Today；　however；　in　the　strangeness　of　snow；　after
such　consummation　of　love；　she　felt　expectant　again；　and
delighted。　She　was　still　in　the　eternal　world。

She　used；　after　she　went　to　the　High　School；　and　wanted　to　be
a　lady；　wanted　to　fulfil　some　mysterious　ideal；　always　to　listen
to　the　sermon　and　to　try　to　gather　suggestions。　That　was　all
very　well　for　a　while。　The　vicar　told　her　to　be　good　in　this　way
and　in　that。　She　went　away　feeling　it　was　her　highest　aim　to
fulfil　these　injunctions。

But　quickly　this　palled。　After　a　short　time；　she　was　not　very
much　interested　in　being　good。　Her　soul　was　in　quest　of
something；　which　was　not　just　being　good；　and　doing　one's　best。
No；　she　wanted　something　else：　something　that　was　not　her
readymade　duty。　Everything　seemed　to　be　merely　a　matter　of
social　duty；　and　never　of　her　self。　They　talked　about　her　soul；
but　somehow　never　managed　to　rouse　or　to　implicate　her　soul。　As
yet　her　soul　was　not　brought　in　at　all。

So　that　whilst　she　had　an　affection　for　Mr。　Loverseed；　the
vicar；　and　a　protective　sort　of　feeling　for　Cossethay　church；
wanting　always　to　help　it　and　defend　it；　it　counted　very　small
in　her　life。

Not　but　that　she　was　conscious　of　some　unsatisfaction。　When
her　husband　was　roused　by　the　thought　of　the　churches；　then　she
became　hostile　to　the　ostensible　church；　she　hated　it　for　not
fulfilling　anything　in　her。　The　Church　told　her　to　be　good：　very
well；　she　had　no　idea　of　contradicting　what　it　said。　The　Church
talked　about　her　soul；　about　the　welfare　of　mankind；　as　if　the
saving　of　her　soul　lay　in　her　performing　certain　acts　conducive
to　the　welfare　of　mankind。　Well　and　goodit　was　so；　then。

Nevertheless；　as　she　sat　in　church　her　face　had　a　pathos　and
poignancy。　Was　this　what　she　had　e　to　hear：　how　by　doing　this
thing　and　by　not　doing　that；　she　could　save　her　soul？　She　did
not　contradict　it。　But　the　pathos　of　her　face　gave　the　lie。
There　was　something　else　she　wanted　to　hear；　it　was　something
else　she　asked　for　from　the　Church。

But　who　was　she　to　affirm　it？　And　what　was　she　doing
with　unsatisfied　desires？　She　was　ashamed。　She　ignored　them　and
left　them　out　of　count　as　much　as　possible；　her　underneath
yearnings。　They　angered　her。　She　wanted　to　be　like　other　people；
decently　satisfied。

He　angered　her　more　than　ever。　Church　had　an　irresistible
attraction　for　him。　And　he　paid　no　more　attention　to　that　part
of　the　service　which　was　Church　to　her；　than　if　he　had　been　an
angel　or　a　fabulous　beast　sitting　there。　He　simply　paid　no　heed
to　the　sermon　or　to　the　meaning　of　the　service。　There　was
something　thick；　dark；　dense；　powerful　about　him　that　irritated
her　too　deeply　for　her　to　speak　of　it。　The　Church　teaching　in
itself　meant　nothing　to　him。　〃And　five　us　our　trespasses　as
we　five　them　that　trespass　against　us〃it　simply　did
not　touch　him。　It　might　have　been　more　sounds；　and　it　would　have
acted　upon　him　in　the　same　way。　He　did　not　want　things　to　be
intelligible。　And　he　did　not　care　about　his　trespasses；　neither
about　the　trespasses　of　his　neighbour；　when　he　was　in　church。
Leave　that　care　for　weekdays。　When　he　was　in　church；　he　took　no
more　notice　of　his　daily　life。　It　was　weekday　stuff。　As　for　the
welfare　of　mankindhe　merely　did　not　realize　that　there
was　any　such　thing：　except　on　weekdays；　when　he　was　goodnatured
enough。　In　church；　he　wanted　a　dark；　nameless　emotion；　the
emotion　of　all　the　great　mysteries　of　passion。

He　was　not　interested　in　the　thought　of　himself　or　of
her：　oh；　and　how　that　irritated　her！　He　ignored　the　sermon；　he
ignored　the　greatness　of　mankind；　he　did　not　admit　the　immediate
importance　of　mankind。　He　did　not　care　about　himself　as　a　human
being。　He　did　not　attach　any　vital　importance　to　his　life　in　the
drafting　office；　or　his　life　among　men。　That　was　just　merely　the
margin　to　the　text。　The　verity　was　his　connection　with　Anna　and
his　connection　with　the　Church；　his　real　being　lay　in　his　dark
emotional　experience　of　the　Infinite；　of　the　Absolute。　And　the
great　mysterious；　illuminated　capitals　to　the　text；　were　his
feelings　with　the　Church。

It　exasperated　her　beyond　measure。　She　could　not　get　out　of
the　Church　the　satisfaction　he　got。　The　thought　of　her　soul　was
intimately　mixed　up　with　the　thought　of　her　own　self。　Indeed；
her　soul　and　her　own　self　were　one　and　the　same　in　her。　Whereas
he　seemed　simply　to　ignore　the　fact　of　his　own　self；　almost　to
refute　it。　He　had　a　soula　dark；　inhuman　thing　caring
nothing　for　humanity。　So　she　conceived　it。　And　in　the　gloom　and
the　mystery　of　the　Church　his　soul　lived　and　ran　free；　like　some
strange；　underground　thing；　abstract。

He　was　very　strange　to　her；　and；　in　this　church　spirit；　in
conceiving　himself　as　a　soul；　he　seemed　to　escape　and　run　free
of　her。　In　a　way；　she　envied　it　him；　this　dark　freedom　and
jubilation　of　the　soul；　some　strange　entity　in　him。　It
fascinated　her。　Again　she　hated　it。　And　again；　she　despised　him；
wanted　to　destroy　it　in　him。

This　snowy　morning；　he　sat　with　a　darkbright　face　beside
her；　not　aware　of　her；　and　somehow；　she　felt　he　was　conveying　to
strange；　secret　places　the　love　that　sprang　in　him　for　her。　He
sat　with　a　darkrapt；　halfdelighted　face；　looking　at　a　little
stained　window。　She　saw　the　rubycoloured　glass；　with　the　shadow
heaped　along　the　bottom　from　the　snow　outside；　and　the　familiar
yellow　figure　of　the　lamb　holding　the　banner；　a　little　darkened
now；　but　in　the　murky　interior　strangely　luminous；　pregnant。

She　had　always　liked　the　little　red　and　yellow　window。　The
lamb；　looking　very　silly　and　selfconscious；　was　holding　up　a
forepaw；　in　the　cleft　of　which　was　dangerously　perched　a　little
flag　with　a　red　cross。　Very　pale　yellow；　the　lamb；　with　greenish
shadows。　Since　she　was　a　child　she　had　liked　this　creature；　with
the　same　feeling　she　felt　for　the　little　woolly　lambs　on　green
legs　that　children　carried　home　from　the　fair　every　year。　She
had　always　liked　these　toys；　and　she　had　the　same　amused；
childish　liking　fo