the story of an african farm-第46节

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legs。　　In　his　leather　bag　he　is　going　to　fetch　his　rations；　and　I　suppose

to　kick　his　wife　with　his　beautiful　legs　when　he　gets　home。　　He　has　a　right

to；　he　bought　her　for　two　oxen。　　There　is　a　lean　dog　going　after　him；　to

whom　I　suppose　he　never　gives　more　than　a　bone　from　which　he　has　sucked　the

marrow；　but　his　dog　loves　him；　as　his　wife　does。　　There　is　something　of　the

master　about　him　in　spite　of　his　blackness　and　wool。　　See　how　he　brandishes

his　stick　and　holds　up　his　head！〃



〃Oh；　but　aren't　you　making　fun？〃　said　Gregory；　looking　doubtfully　from　her

to　the　Kaffer　herd；　who　rounded　the　kopje。



〃No；　I　am　very　serious。　　He　is　the　most　interesting　and　intelligent　thing　I

can　see　just　now；　except；　perhaps；　Doss。　　He　is　profoundly　suggestive。　

Will　his　race　melt　away　in　the　heat　of　a　collision　with　a　higher？　　Are　the

men　of　the　future　to　see　his　bones　only　in　museumsa　vestige　of　one　link

that　spanned　between　the　dog　and　the　white　man？　　He　wakes　thoughts　that　run

far　out　into　the　future　and　back　into　the　past。〃



Gregory　was　not　quite　sure　how　to　take　these　remarks。　　Being　about　a

Kaffer；　they　appeared　to　be　of　the　nature　of　a　joke；　but；　being　seriously

spoken；　they　appeared　earnest；　so　he　half　laughed　and　half　not；　to　be　on

the　safe　side。



〃I've　often　thought　so　myself。　　It's　funny　we　should　both　think　the　same；　I

knew　we　should　if　once　we　talked。　　But　there　are　other　thingslove；　now；〃

he　added。　　〃I　wonder　if　we　would　think　alike　about　that。　　I　wrote　an　essay

on　love　once；　the　master　said　it　was　the　best　I　ever　wrote；　and　I　can

remember　the　first　sentence　still'Love　is　something　that　you　feel　in　your

heart。'〃



〃That　was　a　trenchant　remark。　　Can't　you　remember　any　more？〃



〃No；〃　said　Gregory；　regretfully；　〃I've　forgotten　the　rest。　　But　tell　me

what　do　you　think　about　love？〃



A　look；　half　of　abstraction；　half　amusement；　played　on　her　lips。



〃I　don't　know　much　about　love；〃　she　said；　〃and　I　do　not　like　to　talk　of

things　I　do　not　understand；　but　I　have　heard　two　opinions。　　Some　say　the

devil　carried　the　seed　from　hell　and　planted　it　on　the　earth　to　plague　men

and　make　them　sin；　and　some　say；　that　when　all　the　plants　in　the　garden　of

Eden　were　pulled　up　by　the　roots；　one　bush　that　the　angels　planted　was　left

growing；　and　it　spread　its　seed　over　the　whole　earth；　and　its　name　is　love。

I　do　not　know　which　is　rightperhaps　both。　　There　are　different　species

that　go　under　the　same　name。　　There　is　a　love　that　begins　in　the　head；　and

goes　down　to　the　heart；　and　grows　slowly；　but　it　lasts　till　death；　and　asks

less　than　it　gives。　　There　is　another　love；　that　blots　out　wisdom；　that　is

sweet　with　the　sweetness　of　life　and　bitter　with　the　bitterness　of　death；

lasting　for　an　hour；　but　it　is　worth　having　lived　a　whole　life　for　that

hour。　　I　cannot　tell；　perhaps　the　old　monks　were　right　when　they　tried　to

root　love　out；　perhaps　the　poets　are　right　when　they　try　to　water　it。　　It

is　a　blood…red　flower；　with　the　colour　of　sin；　but　there　is　always　the

scent　of　a　god　about　it。〃



Gregory　would　have　made　a　remark；　but　she　said；　without　noticing：



〃There　are　as　many　kinds　of　loves　as　there　are　flowers；　everlastings　that

never　wither；　speedwells　that　wait　for　the　wind　to　fan　them　out　of　life；

blood…red　mountain…lilies　that　pour　their　voluptuous　sweetness　out　for　one

day；　and　lie　in　the　dust　at　night。　　There　is　no　flower　has　the　charm　of

allthe　speedwell's　purity；　the　everlasting's　strength；　the　mountain…

lily's　warmth；　but　who　knows　whether　there　is　no　love　that　holds　all

friendship；　passion；　worship？



〃Such　a　love；〃　she　said；　in　her　sweetest　voice；　〃will　fall　on　the　surface

of　strong；　cold；　selfish　life　as　the　sunlight　falls　on　a　torpid　winter

world；　there；　where　the　trees　are　bare；　and　the　ground　frozen；　till　it

rings　to　the　step　like　iron；　and　the　water　is　solid；　and　the　air　is　sharp

as　a　two…edged　knife　that　cuts　the　unwary。



〃But　when　its　sun　shines　on　it；　through　its　whole　dead　crust　a　throbbing

yearning　wakes：　　the　trees　feel　him；　and　every　knot　and　bud　swell；　aching

to　open　to　him。　　The　brown　seeds；　who　have　slept　deep　under　the　ground；

feel　him；　and　he　gives　them　strength；　till　they　break　through　the　frozen

earth；　and　lift　two　tiny；　trembling　green　hands　in　love　to　him。　　And　he

touches　the　water；　till　down　to　its　depths　it　feels　him　and　melts；　and　it

flows；　and　the　things；　strange　sweet　things　that　were　locked　up　in　it；　it

sings　as　it　runs；　for　love　of　him。　　Each　plant　tries　to　bear　at　least　one

fragrant　little　flower　for　him；　and　the　world　that　was　dead　lives；　and　the

heart　that　was　dead　and　self…centred　throbs；　with　an　upward；　outward

yearning；　and　it　has　become　that　which　it　seemed　impossible　ever　to　become。　

There；　does　that　satisfy　you？〃　she　asked；　looking　down　at　Gregory。　　〃Is

that　how　you　like　me　to　talk？〃



〃Oh；　yes；〃　said　Gregory；　〃that　is　what　I　have　already　thought。　　We　have　the

same　thoughts　about　everything。　　How　strange！〃



〃Very；〃　said　Lyndall；　working　with　her　little　toe　at　a　stone　in　the　ground

before　her。



Gregory　felt　he　must　sustain　the　conversation。　　The　only　thing　he　could

think　of　was　to　recite　a　piece　of　poetry。　　He　knew　he　had　learnt　many　about

love；　but　the　only　thing　that　would　come　into　his　mind　now　was　the　〃Battle

of　Hohenlinden；〃　and　〃Not　a　drum　was　heard；〃　neither　of　which　seemed　to

bear　directly　on　the　subject　on　hand。



But　unexpected　relief　came　to　him　from　Doss；　who；　too　deeply　lost　in

contemplation　of　his　crevice；　was　surprised　by　the　sudden　descent　of　the

stone　Lyndall's　foot　had　loosened；　which；　rolling　against　his　little　front

paw；　carried　away　a　piece　of　white…skin。　　Doss　stood　on　three　legs；　holding

up　the　paw　with　an　expression　of　extreme　self…commiseration；　he　then

proceeded　to　hop　slowly　upward　in　search　of　sympathy。



〃You　have　hurt　that　dog；〃　said　Gregory。



〃Have　I？〃　she　replied　indifferently；　and　re…opened　the　book；　as　though　to

resume　her　study　of　the　play。



〃He's　a　nasty；　snappish　little　cur！〃　said　Gregory；　calculating　from　her

manner　that　the　remark　would　be　endorsed。　　〃He　snapped　at　my　horse's　tail

yesterday；　and　nearly　made　it　throw　me。　　I　wonder　his　master　didn't　take

him；　instead　of　leaving　him　here　to　be　a　nuisance　to　all　of　us！〃



Lyndall　seemed　absorbed　in　her　play；　but　he　ventured　another　remark。



〃Do　you　think　now；　Miss　Lyndall；　that　he'll　ever　have　anything　in　the

worldthat　German。　　I　meanmoney　enough　to　support　a　wife　on；　and　all

that　sort　of　thing？　　I　don't。　　He's　what　I　call　soft。〃



She　was　spreading　her　skirt　out　softly　with　her　left　hand　for　the　dog　to

lie　down　on　it。



〃I　think　I　should　be　rather　astonished　if　he　ever　became　a　respectable

member　of　society；〃　she　said。　　I　don't　expect　to　see　him　the　possessor　of

bank…shares；　the　chairman　of　a　divisional　council；　and　the　father　of　a

large　family；　wearing　a　black　hat；　and　going　to　church　twice　on　a　Sunday。　

He　would　rather　astonish　me　if　he　came　to　such　an　end。〃



〃Yes；　I　don't　expect　anything　of　him　either；〃　said　Gregory；　zealously。



〃Well；　I　don't　know；〃　said　Lyndall；　〃there　are　some　small　things　I　rather

look　to　him　for。　　If　he　were　to　invent　wings；　or　carve　a　statue　that　one

might　look　at　for　half　an　hour　without　wanting　to　look　at　something　else；　I

should　not　be　surprised。　　He　may　do　some　little　thing　of　that　kind　perhaps；

when　he　has　done　fermenting　and　the　sediment　has　all　gone　to　the　bottom。〃



Gregory　felt　that　what　she　said　was　not　wholly　intended　as　blame。



〃Well；　I　don't　know；〃　he　said　sulkily；　〃to　me　he　looks　like　a　fool。　　To

walk　about　always　in　that　dead…and…alive　sort　of　way；　muttering　to　himself

like　an　old　Kaffer　witchdoctor！　　He　works　hard　enough；　but　it's　always　as

though　he　didn't　know　what　he　was　doing。　　You　don't　know　how　he　looks　to　a

person　who　sees　him　for　the　first　time。〃



Lyndall　was　softly　touching　the　little　sore　foot　as　she　read；　and　Doss；　to

show　he　liked　it；　licked　her　hand。



〃But；　Miss　Lyndall；〃　persisted　Gregory；　〃what　do　you　really　think　of　him？〃



〃I　think；〃　said　Lyndall；　〃that　he　is　like　a　thorn…tree；　which　grows　up　very

quietly；　without　any　one's　caring　for　it；　and　one　day　suddenly　breaks　out

into　yellow　blossoms。〃



〃And　what　do　you　think　I　am　like？〃　asked　Gregory；　hopefully。



Lyndall　looked　up　from　her　book。



〃Like　a　little　tin　duck　floating　on　a　dish　of　water；　that　comes　after　a

piece　of　bread　stuck　on　a　needle；　and　the　more　the　needle　pricks　it　the

more　it　comes　on。〃



〃Oh；　you　are　making　fun　of　me　now；　you　really　are！〃　said　Gregory　feeling

wretched。　　〃You　are　making　fun；　aren't　you；　now？〃



〃Partly。　　It　is　always　diverting　to　make　comparisons。〃



〃Yes；　but　you　don't　compare　me　to　anything　nice；　and　you　do　other　people。　

What　is　Em　like；　now？〃



〃The　accompaniment　of　a　song。　　She　fills　up　the　gaps　in　other　people's

lives；　and　is　always　number　two；　but　I　think　she　is　like　many

accompanimentsa　great　deal　better　than　the