还乡The Return Of The Native-第67部分

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Thus；　though　words　of　solace　were　vainly　uttered　in　his　presence；　he　found　relief　in　a　direction　of　his　own　choosing　when　left　to　himself。　　For　a　man　of　his　habits　the　house　and　the　hundred　and　twenty　pounds　a　year　which　he　had　inherited　from　his　mother　were　enough　to　supply　all　worldly　needs。　　Resources　do　not　depend　upon　gross　amounts；　but　upon　the　proportion　of　spendings　to　takings。　
He　frequently　walked　the　heath　alone；　when　the　past　seized　upon　him　with　its　shadowy　hand；　and　held　him　there　to　listen　to　its　tale。　　His　imagination　would　then　people　the　spot　with　its　ancient　inhabitants—forgotten　Celtic　tribes　trod　their　tracks　about　him；　and　he　could　almost　live　among　them；　look　in　their　faces；　and　see　them　standing　beside　the　barrows　which　swelled　around；　untouched　and　perfect　as　at　the　time　of　their　erection。　　Those　of　the　dyed　barbarians　who　had　chosen　the　cultivable　tracts　were；　in　parison　with　those　who　had　left　their　marks　here；　as　writers　on　paper　beside　writers　on　parchment。　　Their　records　had　perished　long　ago　by　the　plough；　while　the　works　of　these　remained。　　Yet　they　all　had　lived　and　died　unconscious　of　the　different　fates　awaiting　their　relics。　　It　reminded　him　that　unforeseen　factors　operate　in　the　evolution　of　immortality。　
Winter　again　came　round；　with　its　winds；　frosts；　tame　robins；　and　sparkling　starlight。　　The　year　previous　Thomasin　had　hardly　been　conscious　of　the　season’s　advance；　this　year　she　laid　her　heart　open　to　external　influences　of　every　kind。　　The　life　of　this　sweet　cousin；　her　baby；　and　her　servants；　came　to　Clym’s　senses　only　in　the　form　of　sounds　through　a　wood　partition　as　he　sat　over　books　of　exceptionally　large　type；　but　his　ear　became　at　last　so　accustomed　to　these　slight　noises　from　the　other　part　of　the　house　that　he　almost　could　witness　the　scenes　they　signified。　　A　faint　beat　of　half…seconds　conjured　up　Thomasin　rocking　the　cradle；　a　wavering　hum　meant　that　she　was　singing　the　baby　to　sleep；　a　crunching　of　sand　as　between　millstones　raised　the　picture　of　Humphrey’s；　Fairway’s；　or　Sam’s　heavy　feet　crossing　the　stone　floor　of　the　kitchen；　a　light　boyish　step；　and　a　gay　tune　in　a　high　key；　betokened　a　visit　from　Grandfer　Cantle；　a　sudden　break…off　in　the　Grandfer’s　utterances　implied　the　application　to　his　lips　of　a　mug　of　small　beer；　a　bustling　and　slamming　of　doors　meant　starting　to　go　to　market；　for　Thomasin；　in　spite　of　her　added　scope　of　gentility；　led　a　ludicrously　narrow　life；　to　the　end　that　she　might　save　every　possible　pound　for　her　little　daughter。　
One　summer　day　Clym　was　in　the　garden；　immediately　outside　the　parlour　window；　which　was　as　usual　open。　　He　was　looking　at　the　pot…flowers　on　the　sill；　they　had　been　revived　and　restored　by　Thomasin　to　the　state　in　which　his　mother　had　left　them。　　He　heard　a　slight　scream　from　Thomasin；　who　was　sitting　inside　the　room。
“O；　how　you　frightened　me！”　she　said　to　someone　who　had　entered。　　“I　thought　you　were　the　ghost　of　yourself。”
Clym　was　curious　enough　to　advance　a　little　further　and　look　in　at　the　window。　　To　his　astonishment　there　stood　within　the　room　Diggory　Venn；　no　longer　a　reddleman；　but　exhibiting　the　strangely　altered　hues　of　an　ordinary　Christian　countenance；　white　shirt…front；　light　flowered　waistcoat；　blue…spotted　neckerchief；　and　bottle…green　coat。　　Nothing　in　this　appearance　was　at　all　singular　but　the　fact　of　its　great　difference　from　what　he　had　formerly　been。　　Red；　and　all　approach　to　red；　was　carefully　excluded　from　every　article　of　clothes　upon　him；　for　what　is　there　that　persons　just　out　of　harness　dread　so　much　as　reminders　of　the　trade　which　has　enriched　them？
Yeobright　went　round　to　the　door　and　entered。　
“I　was　so　alarmed！”　said　Thomasin；　smiling　from　one　to　the　other。　　“I　couldn’t　believe　that　he　had　got　white　of　his　own　accord！　It　seemed　supernatural。”
“I　gave　up　dealing　in　reddle　last　Christmas；”　said　Venn。　　“It　was　a　profitable　trade；　and　I　found　that　by　that　time　I　had　made　enough　to　take　the　dairy　of　fifty　cows　that　my　father　had　in　his　lifetime。　　I　always　thought　of　getting　to　that　place　again　if　I　changed　at　all；　and　now　I　am　there。”
“How　did　you　manage　to　bee　white；　Diggory？”　Thomasin　asked。　
“I　turned　so　by　degrees；　ma’am。”
“You　look　much　better　than　ever　you　did　before。”
Venn　appeared　confused；　and　Thomasin；　seeing　how　inadvertently　she　had　spoken　to　a　man　who　might　possibly　have　tender　feelings　for　her　still；　blushed　a　little。　　Clym　saw　nothing　of　this；　and　added　good…humouredly—
“What　shall　we　have　to　frighten　Thomasin’s　baby　with；　now　you　have　bee　a　human　being　again？”
“Sit　down；　Diggory；”　said　Thomasin；　“and　stay　to　tea。”
Venn　moved　as　if　he　would　retire　to　the　kitchen；　when　Thomasin　said　with　pleasant　pertness　as　she　went　on　with　some　sewing；　“Of　course　you　must　sit　down　here。　　And　where　does　your　fifty…cow　dairy　lie；　Mr。　Venn？”
“At　Stickleford—about　two　miles　to　the　right　of　Alderworth；　ma’am；　where　the　meads　begin。　　I　have　thought　that　if　Mr。　Yeobright　would　like　to　pay　me　a　visit　sometimes　he　shouldn’t　stay　away　for　want　of　asking。　　I’ll　not　bide　to　tea　this　afternoon；　thank’ee；　for　I’ve　got　something　on　hand　that　must　be　settled。　　‘Tis　Maypole…day　tomorrow；　and　the　Shadwater　folk　have　clubbed　with　a　few　of　your　neighbours　here　to　have　a　pole　just　outside　your　palings　in　the　heath；　as　it　is　a　nice　green　place。”　　Venn　waved　his　elbow　towards　the　patch　in　front　of　the　house。　　“I　have　been　talking　to　Fairway　about　it；”　he　continued；　“and　I　said　to　him　that　before　we　put　up　the　pole　it　would　be　as　well　to　ask　Mrs。　Wildeve。”
“I　can　say　nothing　against　it；”　she　answered。　　“Our　property　does　not　reach　an　inch　further　than　the　white　palings。”
“But　you　might　not　like　to　see　a　lot　of　folk　going　crazy　round　a　stick；　under　your　very　nose？”
“I　shall　have　no　objection　at　all。”
Venn　soon　after　went　away；　and　in　the　evening　Yeobright　strolled　as　far　as　Fairway’s　cottage。　　It　was　a　lovely　May　sunset；　and　the　birch　trees　which　grew　on　this　margin　of　the　vast　Egdon　wilderness　had　put　on　their　new　leaves；　delicate　as　butterflies’　wings；　and　diaphanous　as　amber。　　Beside　Fairway’s　dwelling　was　an　open　space　recessed　from　the　road；　and　here　were　now　collected　all　the　young　people　from　within　a　radius　of　a　couple　of　miles。　　The　pole　lay　with　one　end　supported　on　a　trestle；　and　women　were　engaged　in　wreathing　it　from　the　top　downwards　with　wild…flowers。　The　instincts　of　merry　England　lingered　on　here　with　exceptional　vitality；　and　the　symbolic　customs　which　tradition　has　attached　to　each　season　of　the　year　were　yet　a　reality　on　Egdon。　　Indeed；　the　impulses　of　all　such　outlandish　hamlets　are　pagan　still—in　these　spots　homage　to　nature；　self…adoration；　frantic　gaieties；　fragments　of　Teutonic　rites　to　divinities　whose　names　are　forgotten；　seem　in　some　way　or　other　to　have　survived　mediaeval　doctrine。　
Yeobright　did　not　interrupt　the　preparations；　and　went　home　again。　　The　next　morning；　when　Thomasin　withdrew　the　curtains　of　her　bedroom　window；　there　stood　the　Maypole　in　the　middle　of　the　green；　its　top　cutting　into　the　sky。　　It　had　sprung　up　in　the　night；　or　rather　early　morning；　like　Jack’s　bean…stalk。　She　opened　the　casement　to　get　a　better　view　of　the　garlands　and　posies　that　adorned　it。　　The　sweet　perfume　of　the　flowers　had　already　spread　into　the　surrounding　air；　which；　being　free　from　every　taint；　conducted　to　her　lips　a　full　measure　of　the　fragrance　received　from　the　spire　of　blossom　in　its　midst。　　At　the　top　of　the　pole　were　crossed　hoops　decked　with　small　flowers；　beneath　these　came　a　milk…white　zone　of　Maybloom；　then　a　zone　of　bluebells；　then　of　cowslips；　then　of　lilacs；　then　of　ragged…robins；　daffodils；　and　so　on；　till　the　lowest　stage　was　reached。　　Thomasin　noticed　all　these；　and　was　delighted　that　the　May　revel　was　to　be　so　near。　
When　afternoon　came　people　began　to　gather　on　the　green；　and　Yeobright　was　interested　enough　to　look　out　upon　them　from　the　open　window　of　his　room。　　Soon　after　this　Thomasin　walked　out　from　the　door　immediately　below　and　turned　her　eyes　up　to　her　cousin’s　face。　　She　was　dressed　more　gaily　than　Yeobright　had　ever　seen　her　dressed　since　the　time　of　Wildeve’s　death；　eighteen　months　before；　since　the　day　of　her　marriage　even　she　had　not　exhibited　herself　to　such　advantage。　
“How　pretty　you　look　today；　Thomasin！”　he　said。　
“Is　it　because　of　the　Maypole？”
“Not　altogether。”　　And　then　she　blushed　and　dropped　her　eyes；　which　he　did　not　specially　observe；　though　her　manner　seemed　to　him　to　be　rather　peculiar；　considering　that　she　was　only　addressing　himself。　　Could　it　be　possible　that　she　had　put　on　her　summer　clothes　to　please　him？
He　recalled　her　conduct　towards　him　throughout　the　last　few　weeks；　when　they　had　often　been　working　together　in　the　garden；　just　as　they　had　formerly　done　when　they　were　boy　and　girl　under　his　mother’s　eye。　　What　if　her　interest　in　him　were　not　so　entirely　that　of　a　relative　as　it　had　formerly　been？　　To　Yeobright　any　possibility　of　this　sort　was　a　serious　matter；　and　he　almost　felt　troubled　at　the　thought　of　it。　　Every　pulse　of　loverlike　feeling　which　had　not　been　stilled　during　Eustacia’s　lifetime　had　gone　into　the　grave　with　her。　　His　passion　for　her　had　occurred　too　far　on　in　his　manhood　to　leave　fuel　enough　on　hand　for　another　fire　of　that　sort；　as　may　happen　with　more　boyish　loves。　　Even　supposing　him　capable　of　loving　again；　that　love　would　be　a　plant　of　slow　and　laboured　growth；　and　in　the　end　only　small　and　sickly；　like　an　autumn…hatched　bird。
He　was　so　distressed　by　this　new　plexity　that　when　the　enthusiastic　brass　band　arrived　and　struck　up；　which　it　did　about　five　o’clock；　with　apparently　wind　enough　among　its　members　to　blow　down　his　house；　he　withdrew　from　his　rooms　by　the　back　door；　went　down　the　garden；　through　the　gate　in　the　hedge；　and　away　out　of　sight。　　He　could　not　bear　to　remain　in　the　presence　of　enjoyment　today；　though　he　had　tried　hard。
Nothing　was　seen　of　him　for　four　hours。　　When　he　came　back　by　the　same　path　it　was　dusk；　and　the　dews　were　coating　every　green　thing。　　The　boisterous　music　had　ceased；　but；　entering　the　premises　as　he　did　from　behind；　he　could　not　see　if　the　May　party　had　all　gone　till　he　had　passed　through　Thomasin’s　division　of　the　house　to　the　front　door。　　Thomasin　was　standing　within　the　porch　alone。　
She　looked　at　him　reproachfully。　　“You　went　away　just　when　it　began；　Clym；”　she　said。　
“Yes。　I　felt　I　could　not　join　in。　　You　went　out　with　them；　of　course？”
“No；　I　did　not。”
“You　appeared　to　be　dressed　on　purpose。”
“Yes；　but　I　could　not　go　out　alone；　so　many　people　were　there。　　One　is　there　now。”
Yeobright　strained　his　eyes　across　the　dark…green　patch　beyond　the　paling；　and　near　the　black　form　of　the　Maypole　he　discerned　a　shadowy　figure；　sauntering　idly　up　and　down。　　“Who　is　it？”　he　said。　
“Mr。　Venn；”　said　Thomasin。　
“You　might　have　asked　him　to　e　in；　I　think；　Tamsie。　
He　has　been　very　kind　to　you　first　and　last。”
“I　will　now；”　she　said；　and；　acting　on　the　impulse；　went　through　the　wicket　to　where　Venn　stood　under　the　Maypole。
“It　is　Mr。　Venn；　I　think？”　she　inquired。　
Venn　started　as　if　he　had　not　seen　her—artful　man　that　he　was—and　said；　“Yes。”
“Will　you　e　in？”
“I　am　afraid　that　I—“
“I　have