the man who was thursday-第17节

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　feet　from　the　road。

〃You　can　find　good　English　inns　left　by　accident　everywhere；　like　fossils；〃　explained　the　Professor。　〃I　once　found　a　decent　place　in　the　West　End。〃

〃I　suppose；〃　said　Syme；　smiling；　〃that　this　is　the　corresponding　decent　place　in　the　East　End？〃

〃It　is；〃　said　the　Professor　reverently；　and　went　in。

In　that　place　they　dined　and　slept；　both　very　thoroughly。　The　beans　and　bacon；　which　these　unaccountable　people　cooked　well；　the　astonishing　emergence　of　Burgundy　from　their　cellars；　crowned　Syme's　sense　of　a　new　comradeship　and　comfort。　Through　all　this　ordeal　his　root　horror　had　been　isolation；　and　there　are　no　words　to　express　the　abyss　between　isolation　and　having　one　ally。　It　may　be　conceded　to　the　mathematicians　that　four　is　twice　two。　But　two　is　not　twice　one；　two　is　two　thousand　times　one。　That　is　why；　in　spite　of　a　hundred　disadvantages；　the　world　will　always　return　to　monogamy。

Syme　was　able　to　pour　out　for　the　first　time　the　whole　of　his　outrageous　tale；　from　the　time　when　Gregory　had　taken　him　to　the　little　tavern　by　the　river。　He　did　it　idly　and　amply；　in　a　luxuriant　monologue；　as　a　man　speaks　with　very　old　friends。　On　his　side；　also；　the　man　who　had　impersonated　Professor　de　Worms　was　not　less　communicative。　His　own　story　was　almost　as　silly　as　Syme's。

〃That's　a　good　get…up　of　yours；〃　said　Syme；　draining　a　glass　of　Macon；　〃a　lot　better　than　old　Gogol's。　Even　at　the　start　I　thought　he　was　a　bit　too　hairy。〃

〃A　difference　of　artistic　theory；〃　replied　the　Professor　pensively。　〃Gogol　was　an　idealist。　He　made　up　as　the　abstract　or　platonic　ideal　of　an　anarchist。　But　I　am　a　realist。　I　am　a　portrait　painter。　But；　indeed；　to　say　that　I　am　a　portrait　painter　is　an　inadequate　expression。　I　am　a　portrait。〃

〃I　don't　understand　you；〃　said　Syme。

〃I　am　a　portrait；〃　repeated　the　Professor。　〃I　am　a　portrait　of　the　celebrated　Professor　de　Worms；　who　is；　I　believe；　in　Naples。〃

〃You　mean　you　are　made　up　like　him；〃　said　Syme。　〃But　doesn't　he　know　that　you　are　taking　his　nose　in　vain？〃

〃He　knows　it　right　enough；〃　replied　his　friend　cheerfully。

〃Then　why　doesn't　he　denounce　you？〃

〃I　have　denounced　him；〃　answered　the　Professor。

〃Do　explain　yourself；〃　said　Syme。

〃With　pleasure；　if　you　don't　mind　hearing　my　story；〃　replied　the　eminent　foreign　philosopher。　〃I　am　by　profession　an　actor；　and　my　name　is　Wilks。　When　I　was　on　the　stage　I　mixed　with　all　sorts　of　Bohemian　and　blackguard　company。　Sometimes　I　touched　the　edge　of　the　turf；　sometimes　the　riff…raff　of　the　arts；　and　occasionally　the　political　refugee。　In　some　den　of　exiled　dreamers　I　was　introduced　to　the　great　German　Nihilist　philosopher；　Professor　de　Worms。　I　did　not　gather　much　about　him　beyond　his　appearance；　which　was　very　disgusting；　and　which　I　studied　carefully。　I　understood　that　he　had　proved　that　the　destructive　principle　in　the　universe　was　God；　hence　he　insisted　on　the　need　for　a　furious　and　incessant　energy；　rending　all　things　in　pieces。　Energy；　he　said；　was　the　All。　He　was　lame；　shortsighted；　and　partially　paralytic。　When　I　met　him　I　was　in　a　frivolous　mood；　and　I　disliked　him　so　much　that　I　resolved　to　imitate　him。　If　I　had　been　a　draughtsman　I　would　have　drawn　a　caricature。　I　was　only　an　actor；　I　could　only　act　a　caricature。　I　made　myself　up　into　what　was　meant　for　a　wild　exaggeration　of　the　old　Professor's　dirty　old　self。　When　I　went　into　the　room　full　of　his　supporters　I　expected　to　be　received　with　a　roar　of　laughter；　or　（if　they　were　too　far　gone）　with　a　roar　of　indignation　at　the　insult。　I　cannot　describe　the　surprise　I　felt　when　my　entrance　was　received　with　a　respectful　silence；　followed　（when　I　had　first　opened　my　lips）　with　a　murmur　of　admiration。　The　curse　of　the　perfect　artist　had　fallen　upon　me。　I　had　been　too　subtle；　I　had　been　too　true。　They　thought　I　really　was　the　great　Nihilist　Professor。　I　was　a　healthy…minded　young　man　at　the　time；　and　I　confess　that　it　was　a　blow。　Before　I　could　fully　recover；　however；　two　or　three　of　these　admirers　ran　up　to　me　radiating　indignation；　and　told　me　that　a　public　insult　had　been　put　upon　me　in　the　next　room。　I　inquired　its　nature。　It　seemed　that　an　impertinent　fellow　had　dressed　himself　up　as　a　preposterous　parody　of　myself。　I　had　drunk　more　champagne　than　was　good　for　me；　and　in　a　flash　of　folly　I　decided　to　see　the　situation　through。　Consequently　it　was　to　meet　the　glare　of　the　company　and　my　own　lifted　eyebrows　and　freezing　eyes　that　the　real　Professor　came　into　the　room。

〃I　need　hardly　say　there　was　a　collision。　The　pessimists　all　round　me　looked　anxiously　from　one　Professor　to　the　other　Professor　to　see　which　was　really　the　more　feeble。　But　I　won。　An　old　man　in　poor　health；　like　my　rival；　could　not　be　expected　to　be　so　impressively　feeble　as　a　young　actor　in　the　prime　of　life。　You　see；　he　really　had　paralysis；　and　working　within　this　definite　limitation；　he　couldn't　be　so　jolly　paralytic　as　I　was。　Then　he　tried　to　blast　my　claims　intellectually。　I　countered　that　by　a　very　simple　dodge。　Whenever　he　said　something　that　nobody　but　he　could　understand；　I　replied　with　something　which　I　could　not　even　understand　myself。　'I　don't　fancy；'　he　said；　'that　you　could　have　worked　out　the　principle　that　evolution　is　only　negation；　since　there　inheres　in　it　the　introduction　of　lacuna；　which　are　an　essential　of　differentiation。'　I　replied　quite　scornfully；　'You　read　all　that　up　in　Pinckwerts；　the　notion　that　involution　functioned　eugenically　was　exposed　long　ago　by　Glumpe。'　It　is　unnecessary　for　me　to　say　that　there　never　were　such　people　as　Pinckwerts　and　Glumpe。　But　the　people　all　round　（rather　to　my　surprise）　seemed　to　remember　them　quite　well；　and　the　Professor；　finding　that　the　learned　and　mysterious　method　left　him　rather　at　the　mercy　of　an　enemy　slightly　deficient　in　scruples；　fell　back　upon　a　more　popular　form　of　wit。　'I　see；'　he　sneered；　'you　prevail　like　the　false　pig　in　Aesop。'　'And　you　fail；'　I　answered；　smiling；　'like　the　hedgehog　in　Montaigne。'　Need　I　say　that　there　is　no　hedgehog　in　Montaigne？　'Your　claptrap　comes　off；'　he　said；　'so　would　your　beard。'　I　had　no　intelligent　answer　to　this；　which　was　quite　true　and　rather　witty。　But　I　laughed　heartily；　answered；　'Like　the　Pantheist's　boots；'　at　random；　and　turned　on　my　heel　with　all　the　honours　of　victory。　The　real　Professor　was　thrown　out；　but　not　with　violence；　though　one　man　tried　very　patiently　to　pull　off　his　nose。　He　is　now；　I　believe；　received　everywhere　in　Europe　as　a　delightful　impostor。　His　apparent　earnestness　and　anger；　you　see；　make　him　all　the　more　entertaining。〃

〃Well；〃　said　Syme；　〃I　can　understand　your　putting　on　his　dirty　old　beard　for　a　night's　practical　joke；　but　I　don't　understand　your　never　taking　it　off　again。〃

〃That　is　the　rest　of　the　story；〃　said　the　impersonator。　〃When　I　myself　left　the　company；　followed　by　reverent　applause；　I　went　limping　down　the　dark　street；　hoping　that　I　should　soon　be　far　enough　away　to　be　able　to　walk　like　a　human　being。　To　my　astonishment；　as　I　was　turning　the　corner；　I　felt　a　touch　on　the　shoulder；　and　turning；　found　myself　under　the　shadow　of　an　enormous　policeman。　He　told　me　I　was　wanted。　I　struck　a　sort　of　paralytic　attitude；　and　cried　in　a　high　German　accent；　'Yes；　I　am　wantedby　the　oppressed　of　the　world。　You　are　arresting　me　on　the　charge　of　being　the　great　anarchist；　Professor　de　Worms。'　The　policeman　impassively　consulted　a　paper　in　his　hand；　'No；　sir；'　he　said　civilly；　'at　least；　not　exactly；　sir。　I　am　arresting　you　on　the　charge　of　not　being　the　celebrated　anarchist；　Professor　de　Worms。'　This　charge；　if　it　was　criminal　at　all；　was　certainly　the　lighter　of　the　two；　and　I　went　along　with　the　man；　doubtful；　but　not　greatly　dismayed。　I　was　shown　into　a　number　of　rooms；　and　eventually　into　the　presence　of　a　police　officer；　who　explained　that　a　serious　campaign　had　been　opened　against　the　centres　of　anarchy；　and　that　this；　my　successful　masquerade；　might　be　of　considerable　value　to　the　public　safety。　He　offered　me　a　good　salary　and　this　little　blue　card。　Though　our　conversation　was　short；　he　struck　me　as　a　man　of　very　massive　common　sense　and　humour；　but　I　cannot　tell　you　much　about　him　personally；　because〃

Syme　laid　down　his　knife　and　fork。

〃I　know；〃　he　said；　〃because　you　talked　to　him　in　a　dark　room。〃

Professor　de　Worms　nodded　and　drained　his　glass。



CHAPTER　IX

THE　MAN　IN　SPECTACLES

〃BURGUNDY　is　a　jolly　thing；〃　said　the　Professor　sadly；　as　he　set　his　glass　down。

〃You　don't　look　as　if　it　were；〃　said　Syme；　〃you　drink　it　as　if　it　were　medicine。〃

〃You　must　excuse　my　manner；〃　said　the　Professor　dismally；　〃my　position　is　rather　a　curious　one。　Inside　I　am　really　bursting　with　boyish　merriment；　but　I　acted　the　paralytic　Professor　so　well；　that　now　I　can't　leave　off。　So　that　when　I　am　among　friends；　and　have　no　need　at　all　to　disguise　myself；　I　still　can't　help　speaking　slow　and　wrinkling　my　foreheadjust　as　if　it　were　my　forehead。　I　can　be　quite　happy；　you　understand；　but　only　in　a　paralytic　sort　of　way。　The　most　buoyant　exclamations　leap　up　in　my　heart；　but　they　come　out　of　my　mouth　quite　different。　You　should　hear　me　say；　'Buck　up；　old　cock！'　It　would　bring　tears　to　your　eyes。〃

〃It　does；〃　said　Syme；　〃but　I　cannot　help　thinking　that　apart