the story of an african farm-第50节

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as　he　remembered　to　have　seen　his　mother　wear　when　he　was　a　little　child。



He　shook　them　out　carefully　to　see　there　were　no　moths；　and　then　sat　down

to　fold　them　up　again　one　by　one。　　They　had　belonged　to　Em's　mother；　and

the　box；　as　packed　at　her　death；　had　stood　untouched　and　forgotten　these

long　years。　　She　must　have　been　a　tall　woman；　that　mother　of　Em's；　for　when

he　stood　up　to　shake　out　a　dress　the　neck　was　on　a　level　with　his；　and　the

skirt　touched　the　ground。　　Gregory　laid　a　nightcap　out　on　his　knee；　and

began　rolling　up　the　strings；　but　presently　his　fingers　moved　slower　and

slower；　then　his　chin　rested　on　his　breast；　and　finally　the　imploring　blue

eyes　were　fixed　on　the　frill　abstractedly。　　When　Em's　voice　called　to　him

from　the　foot　of　the　ladder　he　started；　and　threw　the　nightcap　behind　him。



She　was　only　come　to　tell　him　that　his　cup　of　soup　was　ready；　and；　when　he

could　hear　that　she　was　gone；　he　picked　up　the　nightcap　again；　and　a　great

brown　sun…kapjejust　such　a　kapje　and　such　a　dress　as　one　of　those　he

remembered　to　have　seen　a　sister　of　mercy　wear。　　Gregory's　mind　was　very

full　of　thought。　　He　took　down　a　fragment　of　an　old　looking…glass　from

behind　a　beam；　and　put　the　kapje　on。　　His　beard　looked　somewhat　grotesque

under　it；　he　put　up　his　hand　to　hide　itthat　was　better。　　The　blue　eyes

looked　out　with　the　mild　gentleness　that　became　eyes　looking　out　from　under

a　kapje。　　Next　he　took　the　brown　dress；　and；　looking　round　furtively；

slipped　it　over　his　head。　　He　had　just　got　his　arms　in　the　sleeves；　and　was

trying　to　hook　up　the　back；　when　an　increase　in　the　patter　of　the　rain　at

the　window　made　him　drag　it　off　hastily。　　When　he　perceived　there　was　no

one　coming　he　tumbled　the　things　back　into　the　box；　and；　covering　it

carefully；　went　down　the　ladder。



Em　was　still　at　her　work；　trying　to　adjust　a　new　needle　in　the　machine。　

Gregory　drank　his　soup；　and　then　sat　before　her；　an　awful　and　mysterious

look　in　his　eyes。



〃I　am　going　to　town　tomorrow；〃　he　said。



〃I'm　almost　afraid　you　won't　be　able　to　go；〃　said　Em；　who　was　intent　on　her

needle；　〃I　don't　think　it　is　going　to　leave　off　today。〃



〃I　am　going；〃　said　Gregory。



Em　looked　up。



〃But　the　sloots　are　as　full　as　rivers；　you　cannot　go。　　We　can　wait　for　the

post；〃　she　said。



〃I　am　not　going　for　the　post；〃　said　Gregory；　impressively。



Em　looked　for　explanation；　none　came。



〃When　will　you　be　back？〃



〃I　am　not　coming　back。〃



〃Are　you　going　to　your　friends？〃



Gregory　waited；　then　caught　her　by　the　wrist。



〃Look　here；　Em；〃　he　said　between　his　teeth；　〃I　can't　stand　it　any　more。　　I

am　going　to　her。〃



Since　that　day；　when　he　had　come　home　and　found　Lyndall　gone；　he　had　never

talked　of　her；　but　Em　knew　who　it　was　who　needed　to　be　spoken　of　by　no

name。



She　said；　when　he　had　released　her　hand：



〃But　you　do　not　know　where　she　is？〃



〃Yes；　I　do。　　She　was　in　Bloemfontein　when　I　heard　last。　　I　will　go　there；

and　I　will　find　out　where　she　went　then；　and　then；　and　then！　　I　will　have

her。〃



Em　turned　the　wheel　quickly；　and　the　ill…adjusted　needle　sprung　into　twenty

fragments。



〃Gregory；〃　she　said；　〃she　does　not　want　us；　she　told　us　so　clearly　in　the

letter　she　wrote。〃　　A　flush　rose　on　her　face　as　she　spoke。　　〃It　will　only

be　pain　to　you；　Gregory：　　Will　she　like　to　have　you　near　her？〃



There　was　an　answer　he　might　have　made；　but　it　was　his　secret；　and　he　did

not　choose　to　share　it。　　He　said　only：



〃I　am　going。〃



〃Will　you　be　gone　long；　Gregory？〃



〃I　do　not　know；　perhaps　I　shall　never　come　back。　　Do　what　you　please　with

my　things。　　I　cannot　stay　here！〃



He　rose　from　his　seat。



〃People　say；　forget；　forget！〃　he　cried；　pacing　the　room。　　They　are　mad！

they　are　fools！　　Do　they　say　so　to　men　who　are　dying　of　thirstforget；

forget？　　Why　is　it　only　to　us　they　say　so！　　It　is　a　lie　to　say　that　time

makes　it　easy；　it　is　afterward；　afterward　that　it　eats　in　at　your　heart！



〃All　these　months；〃　he　cried　bitterly；　〃I　have　lived　here　quietly；　day

after　day；　as　if　I　cared　for　what　I　ate；　and　what　I　drank；　and　what　I　did！　

I　care　for　nothing！　　I　cannot　bear　it！　　I　will　not！　　Forget！　forget！〃

ejaculated　Gregory。　　〃You　can　forget　all　the　world；　but　you　cannot　forget

yourself。　　When　one　thing　is　more　to　you　than　yourself；　how　are　you　to

forget　it？



〃I　read；〃　he　said〃yes；　and　then　I　come　to　a　word　she　used；　and　it　is　all

back　with　me　again！　　I　go　to　count　my　sheep；　and　I　see　her　face　before　me；

and　I　stand　and　let　the　sheep　run　by。　　I　look　at　you；　and　in　your　smile；　a

something　at　the　corner　of　your　lips；　I　see　her。　　How　can　I　forget　her

when；　whenever　I　turn；　she　is　there；　and　not　there？　　I　cannot；　I　will　not；

live　where　I　do　not　see　her。



〃I　know　what　you　think；〃　he　said；　turning　upon　her。　　〃You　think　I　am　mad；

you　think　I　am　going　to　see　whether　she　will　not　like　me！　　I　am　not　so

foolish。　　I　should　have　known　at　first　she　never　could　suffer　me。　　Who　am

I；　what　am　I；　that　she　should　look　at　me？　　It　was　right　that　she　left　me；

right　that　she　should　not　look　at　me。　　If　any　one　says　it　is　not；　it　is　a

lie！　　I　am　not　going　to　speak　to　her；〃　he　added〃only　to　see　her；　only　to

stand　sometimes　in　a　place　where　she　has　stood　before。〃





Chapter　2。XI。　　An　Unfinished　Letter。



Gregory　Rose　had　been　gone　seven　months。　　Em　sat　alone　on　a　white　sheepskin

before　the　fire。



The　August　night…wind；　weird　and　shrill；　howled　round　the　chimneys　and

through　the　crannies；　and　in　walls　and　doors；　and　uttered　a　long　low　cry　as

it　forced　its　way　among　the　clefts　of　the　stones　on　the　kopje。　　It　was　a

wild　night。　　The　prickly…pear　tree；　stiff　and　upright　as　it　held　its　arms；

felt　the　wind's　might；　and　knocked　its　flat　leaves　heavily　together；　till

great　branches　broke　off。　　The　Kaffers；　as　they　slept　in　their　straw　huts；

whispered　one　to　another　that　before　morning　there　would　not　be　an　armful

of　thatch　left　on　the　roofs；　and　the　beams　of　the　wagon…house　creaked　and

groaned　as　if　it　were　heavy　work　to　resist　the　importunity　of　the　wind。



Em　had　not　gone　to　bed。　　Who　could　sleep　on　a　night　like　this？　　So　in　the

dining　room　she　had　lighted　a　fire；　and　sat　on　the　ground　before　it；

turning　the　roaster…cakes　that　lay　on　the　coals　to　bake。　　It　would　save

work　in　the　morning；　and　she　blew　out　the　light　because　the　wind　through

the　window…chinks　made　it　flicker　and　run；　and　she　sat　singing　to　herself

as　she　watched　the　cakes。　　They　lay　at　one　end　of　the　wide　hearth　on　a　bed

of　coals；　and　at　the　other　end　a　fire　burnt　up　steadily；　casting　its　amber

glow　over　Em's　light　hair　and　black　dress；　with　the　ruffle　of　crepe　about

the　neck；　and　over　the　white　curls　of　the　sheepskin　on　which　she　sat。



Louder　and　more　fiercely　yet　howled　the　storm；　but　Em　sang　on；　and　heard

nothing　but　the　words　of　her　song；　and　heard　them　only　faintly；　as

something　restful。　　It　was　an　old；　childish　song　she　had　often　heard　her

mother　sing　long　ago：



Where　the　reeds　dance　by　the　river；

Where　the　willow's　song　is　said；

On　the　face　of　the　morning　water；

Is　reflected　a　white　flower's　head。



She　folded　her　hands　and　sang　the　next　verse　dreamily：



Where　the　reeds　shake　by　the　river；

Where　the　moonlight's　sheen　is　shed；

On　the　face　of　the　sleeping　water；

Two　leaves　of　a　white　flower　float　dead。

　　　　　Dead；　Dead；　Dead！



She　echoed　the　refrain　softly　till　it　died　away；　and　then　repeated　it。　　It

was　as　if；　unknown　to　herself；　it　harmonized　with　the　pictures　and　thoughts

that　sat　with　her　there　alone　in　the　firelight。　　She　turned　the　cakes　over；

while　the　wind　hurled　down　a　row　of　bricks　from　the　gable；　and　made　the

walls　tremble。



Presently　she　paused　and　listened；　there　was　a　sound　as　of　something

knocking　at　the　back…doorway。　　But　the　wind　had　raised　its　level　higher；

and　she　went　on　with　her　work。　　At　last　the　sound　was　repeated。　　Then　she

rose；　lit　the　candle　and　the　fire；　and　went　to　see。　　Only　to　satisfy

herself；　she　said；　that　nothing　could　be　out　on　such　a　night。



She　opened　the　door　a　little　way；　and　held　the　light　behind　her　to　defend

it　from　the　wind。　　The　figure　of　a　tall　man　stood　there；　and　before　she

could　speak　he　had　pushed　his　way　in；　and　was　forcing　the　door　to　close

behind　him。



〃Waldo！〃　she　cried　in　astonishment。



He　had　been　gone　more　than　a　year　and　a　half。



〃You　did　not　expect　to　see　me；〃　he　answered；　as　he　turned　toward　her；　〃I

should　have　slept　in　the　outhouse；　and　not　troubled　you　tonight；　but

through　the　shutter　I　saw　glimmerings　of　a　light。〃



〃Come　in　to　the　fire；〃　she　said；　〃it　is　a　terrific　night　for　any　creature

to　be　out。　　Shall　we　not　go　and　fetch　your　things　in　first？〃　she　added。



〃I　have　nothing　but　this；〃　he　said；　motioning　to　the　little　bundle　in　his

hand。



〃Your　horse？〃



〃Is　dead。〃



He　sat　down　on　the　bench　before　the　fire。



〃The　cakes　are　almost　ready；〃　she　said；　〃I　will　get