the captives-第61节

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behind　the　table。

The　room　was　draughty　and　close　and　had　a　confused　smell　of　oil…　cloth　and　geraniums；　and　Maggie　knew　that　soon　she　would　have　a　headache。　She　fancied　that　already　the　atmosphere　was　influencing　the　meeting。　From　where　she　sat　she　could　see　a　succession　of　side　faces；　and　it　was　strange　what　a　hungry；　appealing　look　these　pale　cheeks　and　staring　eyes　had。　Hungry！　Yes；　that's　what　they　all　were。　She　thought；　fantastically；　for　a　moment；　of　poor　Mr。　Magnus's　Treasure　Hunters；　and　she　seemed　to　see　the　whole　of　this　company　in　a　raft　drifting　in　mid…ocean；　not　a　sail　in　sight　and　the　last　ship's　biscuit　gone。

They　were　not；　taken　altogether；　a　very　fine　collection；　old　maids　and　young　girls；　many　of　them　apparently　of　the　servant　class；　one　or　two　sitting　with　open　mouths　and　a　vacancy　of　expression　that　seemed　to　demand　a　conjurer　with　a　rabbit　and　a　hat。　Some　faces　were　of　the　true　fanatic　cast；　lit　with　the　glow　of　an　expectancy　and　a　hope　that　no　rational　experience　had　ever　actually　justified。　One　girl；　whom　Maggie　had　seen　with　Aunt　Anne　on　some　occasion；　had　especially　this　prophetic　anticipation　in　the　whole　pose　of　her　body　as　she　bent　forward　a　little；　her　elbows　on　her　knees　her　chin　on　her　hands；　gazing　with　wide　burning　eyes　at　Miss　Avies。　This　girl；　whom　Maggie　was　never　to　see　again　hung　as　a　picture　in　the　rooms　of　her　mind　for　the　rest　of　her　lifethe　youth；　the　desperate　anxiety　as　of　one　who　throws　her　last　piece　upon　the　gaming…table；　the　poverty　of　the　shabby　black　dress；　the　real　physical　austerity　and　asceticism　of　the　white　cheeks　and　the　thin　arms　and　pale　hands　this　figure　remained　a　symbol　for　Maggie。　She　used　to　wonder　in　after　years；　when　fortune　had　carried　her　far　enough　away　from　all　this　world；　what　had　happened　to　that　girl。　But　she　was　never　to　know。

There　were　faces；　too；　like　Miss　Pyncheon's；　calm；　contented；　confident；　old　women　who　had　found　in　their　religion　the　panacea　of　all　their　troubles。　There　were　faces　like　Mrs。　Smith's；　coarse　and　vulgar；　out　for　any　sensation　that　might　come　along；　and　ready　instantly　to　express　their　contempt　if　the　particular　〃trick〃　that　they　were　expecting　failed　to　come　off；　other　faces；　again；　like　Amy　Warlock's；　grimly　set　upon　secret　thoughts　and　purposes　of　their　own；　faces　trained　to　withstand　any　sudden　attack　on　the　emotions；　but　eager；　too；　like　the　rest　for　some　revelation　that　was　to　answer　all　questions　and　satisfy　all　expectations。

Maggie　wondered；　as　she　looked　about　her；　how　she　could　have　raised　in　her　own　imagination；　around　the　Chapel　and　its　affairs；　so　formidable　an　atmosphere　of　terror　and　tyrannic　discipline。　Here　gathered　together　were　a　few　women；　tired；　pale；　many　of　them　uneducated；　awaiting　like　children　the　opening　of　a　box；　the　springing　into　flower　of　a　dry　husk　of　a　seed；　the　raising　of　the　curtain　on　some　wonderful　scene。　Maggie；　as　she　looked　at　them；　knew　that　they　must　be　disappointed；　and　her　heart　ached　for　them　all；　yes；　even　for　Amy　Warlock；　her　declared　enemy。　She　lost；　as　she　sat　there；　for　the　moment　all　sense　of　her　own　personal　history。　She　only　saw　them　all　tired　and　hungry　and　expectant；　perhaps；　after　all；　there　WAS　something　behind　it　allsomething　for　which　they　had　a　right　to　be　searching；　even　of　that　she　had　not　sure　knowledge　but　the　pathos　and　also　the　bravery　of　their　search　touched　and　moved　her。　She　was　beginning　to　understand　something　of　the　beauty　that　hovered　like　a　bird　always　just　out　of　sight　about　the　ugly　walls　of　the　Chapel。

〃Whatever　they　want；　poor　dears；〃　she　thought；　〃I　do　hope　they　get　it。〃

Miss　Avies　opened　the　meeting　with　an　extempore　prayer：　then　they　all　stood　up　and　sang　a　hymn；　and　their　quavering　voices　were　thin　and　sharp　and　strained　in　the　stuffy　close…ceilinged　room。　The　hymn；　like　all　the　other　Chapel　hymns　that　Maggie　had　heard；　had　to　do　with　〃the　Blood　of　the　Lamb；〃　〃the　sacrifice　of　Blood；〃　〃the　Blood　that　heals。〃　There　was　also　a　refrain：

　And；　when　Thou　comest；　Lord；　we　pray　That　Thou　wilt　spare　Thy　sword；　Or　on　that　grim　and　ghastly　day　Who　will　escape　the　Lord？　WHO　will　escape　the　Lord？

There　were　many　verses　to　this　hymn；　and　it　had　a　long　and　lugubrious　tune；　so　that　Maggie　thought　that　it　would　never　end；　but　as　it　proceeded　the　words　worked　their　effect　on　the　congregation；　and　at　the　last　there　was　much　emotion　and　several　women　were　crying。

Then　they　all　sat　down　again　and　the　meeting　developed　a　very　business…like　side。　There　was　a　great　deal　of　discussion　as　to　dates；　places；　appointments；　and　Maggie　was　amused　to　discover　that　in　this　part　of　the　proceedings　Mrs。　Smith　had　a　great　deal　to　say；　and　took　a　very　leading　place。

The　gathering　became　like　any　other　assemblage　of　ladies　for　some　charitable　or　social　purpose；　and　there　were　the　usual　disputes　and　signs　of　temper　and　wounded　pride；　in　all　those　matters　Miss　Avies　was　a　most　admirable　and　unflinching　chairman。

Then　at　last　the　real　moment　came。　Miss　Avies　got　up　to　speak。　She　stood　there；　scornful；　superior；　and　yet　with　some　almost　cynical　appeal　in　her　eyes　as　though　she　said　to　them：　〃You　poor　fools！　No　one　knows　better　than　I　the　folly　of　your　being　here；　no　one　knows　better　than　I　how　far　you　will；　all　of　you；　be　from　realising　any　of　your　dreams。　Tricked；　the　lot　of　you！and　yetand　yetgo　on　believing；　expecting；　hoping。　Pray；　pray　that　I　may　be　wrong　and　you　may　be　right。〃

What　she　actually　said　was　as　follows：　〃This　will　be　our　last　meeting　before　the　end　of　the　year。　What　will　come　to　all　of　us　before　we　all　meet　again　no　one　can　say；　but　this　we　all　know；　that　we　have；　most　of　us；　been　living　now　for　many　years　in　expectation。　We　have　been　taught；　by　the　goodness　of　God；　to　believe　that　we　must　be　ready　at　any　moment　to　obey　His　call；　and　that　call　may　come；　in　the　middle　of　our　work；　of　our　prayers；　of　our　love　for　others；　of　our　pursuit　of　our　own　ambitions；　and　that　whenever　it　does　come　we　must　be　ready　to　obey　it。　We　have　been　told　by　our　great　and　good　Master；　who　has　been　set　over　us　for　our　guidance　by　God　Himself；　that　that　call　may　now　be　very　near。　Whatever　form　it　may　take　we　must　accept　it；　give　up　all　we　have　and　follow　Him。　That　is　understood　by　all　of　us。　I　will　not　say　more　now。　This　is　not　the　time　for　any　more　directions　from　me。　We　must　address　ourselves；　each　one　of　us；　to　God　Himself；　and　ask　Him　to　prepare　us　so　that　we　may　be　as　He　would　have　us　on　the　day　of　His　coming。　I　suggest　now　before　we　part　that　we　share　together　in　a　few　minutes　of　private　prayer。〃　They　all　rose；　and　Maggie；　before　she　knelt　down；　caught　a　sudden　glimpse　of　the　pale　girl　whom　she　had　noticed　earlier　standing　for　a　moment　as　though　she　were　about　to　make　some　desperate　appeal　to　them　all。　Some　words　did　indeed　seem　to　come　from　her　lips；　but　the　scraping　of　chairs　drowned　every　other　sound。　Nevertheless　that　figure　was　there；　the　hands　stretched　out；　the　very　soul　struggling　through　the　eyes　for　expression；　the　body　tense；　sacred；　eloquent；　like　the　body　of　some　young　prophetess。　Then　all　were　on　their　knees；　and　Maggie；　too；　her　face　in　her　hands；　was　praying。　It　was；　perhaps；　the　first　time　in　her　life　that　she　had　actively；　consciously；　of　her　own　volition　prayed。　The　appeal　formed　itself　as　it　were　without　her　own　agency。

〃Godif　there　is　a　Godgive　me　Martin。　I　care　for　nothing　else　but　that。　If　You　will　give　me　Martin　for　my　own　always；　ever；　I　will　believe　in　You。　I　will　worship　You　and　say　prayers　to　You；　and　do　anything　You　tell　me　if　You　give　me　Martin。　Oh　God！　I　ought　to　have　him。　He　is　mine。　I　can　do　more　for　him　than　any　one　else　canI　can　make　him　happy　and　good。　I　know　I　can。　God　give　him　to　me　and　I　will　be　your　slave。　God；　give　me　MartinGod；　give　me　Martin。〃

She　rose；　as　it　were；　from　the　depths　of　the　sea；　from　great　darkness　and　breathlessness　and　exhaustion。　For　a　moment　she　could　not　see　the　room　nor　any　detail；　but　only　one　pale　face　after　another；　like　a　pattern　on　a　wall；　hiding　something　from　her。

She　stood　bewildered　beside　her　aunts；　not　hearing　the　strains　of　the　last　hymn　nor　the　quaver　of　Aunt　Anne's　trembling　voice　beside　her。

〃God；　give　me　Martin；〃　was　her　last　challenge　in　the　strange　pale　silence　that　floated　around　her。　Then　suddenly；　as　though　she　had　pushed　open　a　door　and　gone　through；　she　was　back　in　the　world　again；　a　flood　of　sound　was　about　her　ears；　and　in　front　of　her　the　red　face　of　Mrs。　Smith；　her　mouth　wide　open；　like　the　mouth　of　an　eager　fish；　singing　about　〃the　Blood　of　the　Lamb〃　with　unctuous　satisfaction　。　。　。




CHAPTER　X

THE　PROPHET


The　year　1907　had　four　more　days　of　life：　it　crept　to　its　grave　through　a　web　and　tangle　of　fog。　It　was　not　one　of　the　regular　yellow　devils　who　come　and　eat　up　London；　first　this　part；　and　then　that；　then　disgorge　a　little；　choking　it　all　up　only　to　snap　at　it　and　swallow　it　down　all　bewildered　a　quarter　of　an　hour　after。　This　was　a　cobweb　fog　spun；　as　it　might　be；　by　some　malignant　central　spider　hidden　darkly　in　his　lair。　The　vapouring…like　filmy　threads　twisted　and　twined　their　way　all　over　London；　and　for　four　days　and　nights　the　town　was　a　city　of　ghosts。　Buildings　loomed　dimly　behind　their　masks　of　silver　tissue；　streets　seemed　unsubstantial；　pave