the holly-tree(圣树)-第4节
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stricken motionless on finding him already slain； and how the ostler； years
afterwards； owned the deed。 By this time I had made myself quite
uncomfortable。 I stirred the fire； and stood with my back to it as long as I
could bear the heat； looking up at the darkness beyond the screen； and at
the wormy curtains creeping in and creeping out； like the worms in the
ballad of Alonzo the Brave and the Fair Imogene。
There was an Inn in the cathedral town where I went to school； which
had pleasanter recollections about it than any of these。 I took it next。 It
was the Inn where friends used to put up； and where we used to go to see
parents； and to have salmon and fowls； and be tipped。 It had an
ecclesiastical sign；the Mitre；and a bar that seemed to be the next best
thing to a bishopric； it was so snug。 I loved the landlord's youngest
daughter to distraction；but let that pass。 It was in this Inn that I was
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cried over by my rosy little sister； because I had acquired a black eye in a
fight。 And though she had been； that Holly…Tree night； for many a long
year where all tears are dried； the Mitre softened me yet。
〃To be continued to…morrow；〃 said I； when I took my candle to go to
bed。 But my bed took it upon itself to continue the train of thought that
night。 It carried me away； like the enchanted carpet； to a distant place
（though still in England）； and there； alighting from a stage…coach at
another Inn in the snow； as I had actually done some years before； I
repeated in my sleep a curious experience I had really had there。 More
than a year before I made the journey in the course of which I put up at
that Inn； I had lost a very near and dear friend by death。 Every night
since； at home or away from home； I had dreamed of that friend；
sometimes as still living； sometimes as returning from the world of
shadows to comfort me； always as being beautiful； placid； and happy；
never in association with any approach to fear or distress。 It was at a
lonely Inn in a wide moorland place； that I halted to pass the night。
When I had looked from my bedroom window over the waste of snow on
which the moon was shining； I sat down by my fire to write a letter。 I
had always； until that hour； kept it within my own breast that I dreamed
every night of the dear lost one。 But in the letter that I wrote I recorded
the circumstance； and added that I felt much interested in proving whether
the subject of my dream would still be faithful to me； travel…tired； and in
that remote place。 No。 I lost the beloved figure of my vision in parting
with the secret。 My sleep has never looked upon it since； in sixteen years；
but once。 I was in Italy； and awoke （or seemed to awake）； the well…
remembered voice distinctly in my ears； conversing with it。 I entreated it；
as it rose above my bed and soared up to the vaulted roof of the old room；
to answer me a question I had asked touching the Future Life。 My hands
were still outstretched towards it as it vanished； when I heard a bell
ringing by the garden wall； and a voice in the deep stillness of the night
calling on all good Christians to pray for the souls of the dead； it being All
Souls' Eve。
To return to the Holly…Tree。 When I awoke next day； it was freezing
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hard； and the lowering sky threatened more snow。 My breakfast cleared
away； I drew my chair into its former place； and； with the fire getting so
much the better of the landscape that I sat in twilight； resumed my Inn
remembrances。
That was a good Inn down in Wiltshire where I put up once； in the
days of the hard Wiltshire ale； and before all beer was bitterness。 It was on
the skirts of Salisbury Plain； and the midnight wind that rattled my lattice
window came moaning at me from Stonehenge。 There was a hanger…on
at that establishment （a supernaturally preserved Druid I believe him to
have been； and to be still）； with long white hair； and a flinty blue eye
always looking afar off； who claimed to have been a shepherd； and who
seemed to be ever watching for the reappearance； on the verge of the
horizon； of some ghostly flock of sheep that had been mutton for many
ages。 He was a man with a weird belief in him that no one could count
the stones of Stonehenge twice； and make the same number of them；
likewise； that any one who counted them three times nine times； and then
stood in the centre and said； 〃I dare！〃 would behold a tremendous
apparition； and be stricken dead。 He pretended to have seen a bustard （I
suspect him to have been familiar with the dodo）； in manner following：
He was out upon the plain at the close of a late autumn day； when he
dimly discerned； going on before him at a curious fitfully bounding pace；
what he at first supposed to be a gig…umbrella that had been blown from
some conveyance； but what he presently believed to be a lean dwarf man
upon a little pony。 Having followed this object for some distance without
gaining on it； and having called to it many times without receiving any
answer； he pursued it for miles and miles； when； at length coming up with
it； he discovered it to be the last bustard in Great Britain； degenerated into
a wingless state； and running along the ground。 Resolved to capture him
or perish in the attempt； he closed with the bustard； but the bustard； who
had formed a counter…resolution that he should do neither； threw him；
stunned him； and was last seen making off due west。 This weird main； at
that stage of metempsychosis； may have been a sleep…walker or an
enthusiast or a robber； but I awoke one night to find him in the dark at my
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bedside； repeating the Athanasian Creed in a terrific voice。 I paid my bill
next day； and retired from the county with all possible precipitation。
That was not a commonplace story which worked itself out at a little
Inn in Switzerland； while I was staying there。 It was a very homely place；
in a village of one narrow zigzag street； among mountains； and you went
in at the main door through the cow…house； and among the mules and the
dogs and the fowls； before ascending a great bare staircase to the rooms；
which were all of unpainted wood； without plastering or papering；like
rough packing…cases。 Outside there was nothing but the straggling street；
a little toy church with a copper…coloured steeple； a pine forest； a torrent；
mists； and mountain…sides。 A young man belonging to this Inn had
disappeared eight weeks before （it was winter…time）； and was supposed to
have had some undiscovered love affair； and to have gone for a soldier。 He
had got up in the night； and dropped into the village street from the loft in
which he slept with another man； and he had done it so quietly； that his
companion and fellow…labourer had heard no movement when he was
awakened in the morning； and they said； 〃Louis； where is Henri？〃 They
looked for him high and low； in vain； and gave him up。 Now； outside this
Inn； there stood； as there stood outside every dwelling in the village； a
stack of firewood； but the stack belonging to the Inn was higher than any
of the rest； because the Inn was the richest house； and burnt the most fuel。
It began to be noticed； while they were looking high and low； that a
Bantam cock； part of the live stock of the Inn； put himself wonderfully out
of his way to get to the top of this wood…stack； and that he wou
