the man who was thursday-第34节

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uestion　of　how　he　had　got　there；　and　how　he　was　to　get　out　again。　Exactly　at　the　same　moment　a　man　in　blue；　who　had　been　appointed　as　his　valet；　said　very　solemnly

〃I　have　put　out　your　clothes；　sir。〃

〃Clothes！〃　said　Syme　sardonically。　〃I　have　no　clothes　except　these；〃　and　he　lifted　two　long　strips　of　his　frock…coat　in　fascinating　festoons；　and　made　a　movement　as　if　to　twirl　like　a　ballet　girl。

〃My　master　asks　me　to　say；〃　said　the　attendant；　that　there　is　a　fancy　dress　ball　tonight；　and　that　he　desires　you　to　put　on　the　costume　that　I　have　laid　out。　Meanwhile；　sir；　there　is　a　bottle　of　Burgundy　and　some　cold　pheasant；　which　he　hopes　you　will　not　refuse；　as　it　is　some　hours　before　supper。〃

〃Cold　pheasant　is　a　good　thing；〃　said　Syme　reflectively；　〃and　Burgundy　is　a　spanking　good　thing。　But　really　I　do　not　want　either　of　them　so　much　as　I　want　to　know　what　the　devil　all　this　means；　and　what　sort　of　costume　you　have　got　laid　out　for　me。　Where　is　it？〃

The　servant　lifted　off　a　kind　of　ottoman　a　long　peacock…blue　drapery；　rather　of　the　nature　of　a　domino；　on　the　front　of　which　was　emblazoned　a　large　golden　sun；　and　which　was　splashed　here　and　there　with　flaming　stars　and　crescents。

〃You're　to　be　dressed　as　Thursday；　sir；〃　said　the　valet　somewhat　affably。

〃Dressed　as　Thursday！〃　said　Syme　in　meditation。　〃It　doesn't　sound　a　warm　costume。〃

〃Oh；　yes；　sir；〃　said　the　other　eagerly；　〃the　Thursday　costume　is　quite　warm；　sir。　It　fastens　up　to　the　chin。〃

〃Well；　I　don't　understand　anything；〃　said　Syme；　sighing。　〃I　have　been　used　so　long　to　uncomfortable　adventures　that　comfortable　adventures　knock　me　out。　Still；　I　may　be　allowed　to　ask　why　I　should　be　particularly　like　Thursday　in　a　green　frock　spotted　all　over　with　the　sun　and　moon。　Those　orbs；　I　think；　shine　on　other　days。　I　once　saw　the　moon　on　Tuesday；　I　remember。〃

〃Beg　pardon；　sir；〃　said　the　valet；　〃Bible　also　provided　for　you；〃　and　with　a　respectful　and　rigid　finger　he　pointed　out　a　passage　in　the　first　chapter　of　Genesis。　Syme　read　it　wondering。　It　was　that　in　which　the　fourth　day　of　the　week　is　associated　with　the　creation　of　the　sun　and　moon。　Here；　however；　they　reckoned　from　a　Christian　Sunday。

〃This　is　getting　wilder　and　wilder；〃　said　Syme；　as　he　sat　down　in　a　chair。　〃Who　are　these　people　who　provide　cold　pheasant　and　Burgundy；　and　green　clothes　and　Bibles？　Do　they　provide　everything？〃

〃Yes；　sir；　everything；〃　said　the　attendant　gravely。　〃Shall　I　help　you　on　with　your　costume？〃

〃Oh；　hitch　the　bally　thing　on！〃　said　Syme　impatiently。

But　though　he　affected　to　despise　the　mummery；　he　felt　a　curious　freedom　and　naturalness　in　his　movements　as　the　blue　and　gold　garment　fell　about　him；　and　when　he　found　that　he　had　to　wear　a　sword；　it　stirred　a　boyish　dream。　As　he　passed　out　of　the　room　he　flung　the　folds　across　his　shoulder　with　a　gesture；　his　sword　stood　out　at　an　angle；　and　he　had　all　the　swagger　of　a　troubadour。　For　these　disguises　did　not　disguise；　but　reveal。



CHAPTER　XV

THE　ACCUSER

AS　Syme　strode　along　the　corridor　he　saw　the　Secretary　standing　at　the　top　of　a　great　flight　of　stairs。　The　man　had　never　looked　so　noble。　He　was　draped　in　a　long　robe　of　starless　black；　down　the　centre　of　which　fell　a　band　or　broad　stripe　of　pure　white；　like　a　single　shaft　of　light。　The　whole　looked　like　some　very　severe　ecclesiastical　vestment。　There　was　no　need　for　Syme　to　search　his　memory　or　the　Bible　in　order　to　remember　that　the　first　day　of　creation　marked　the　mere　creation　of　light　out　of　darkness。　The　vestment　itself　would　alone　have　suggested　the　symbol；　and　Syme　felt　also　how　perfectly　this　pattern　of　pure　white　and　black　expressed　the　soul　of　the　pale　and　austere　Secretary；　with　his　inhuman　veracity　and　his　cold　frenzy；　which　made　him　so　easily　make　war　on　the　anarchists；　and　yet　so　easily　pass　for　one　of　them。　Syme　was　scarcely　surprised　to　notice　that；　amid　all　the　ease　and　hospitality　of　their　new　surroundings；　this　man's　eyes　were　still　stern。　No　smell　of　ale　or　orchards　could　make　the　Secretary　cease　to　ask　a　reasonable　question。

If　Syme　had　been　able　to　see　himself；　he　would　have　realised　that　he；　too；　seemed　to　be　for　the　first　time　himself　and　no　one　else。　For　if　the　Secretary　stood　for　that　philosopher　who　loves　the　original　and　formless　light；　Syme　was　a　type　of　the　poet　who　seeks　always　to　make　the　light　in　special　shapes；　to　split　it　up　into　sun　and　star。　The　philosopher　may　sometimes　love　the　infinite；　the　poet　always　loves　the　finite。　For　him　the　great　moment　is　not　the　creation　of　light；　but　the　creation　of　the　sun　and　moon。

As　they　descended　the　broad　stairs　together　they　overtook　Ratcliffe；　who　was　clad　in　spring　green　like　a　huntsman；　and　the　pattern　upon　whose　garment　was　a　green　tangle　of　trees。　For　he　stood　for　that　third　day　on　which　the　earth　and　green　things　were　made；　and　his　square；　sensible　face；　with　its　not　unfriendly　cynicism；　seemed　appropriate　enough　to　it。

They　were　led　out　of　another　broad　and　low　gateway　into　a　very　large　old　English　garden；　full　of　torches　and　bonfires；　by　the　broken　light　of　which　a　vast　carnival　of　people　were　dancing　in　motley　dress。　Syme　seemed　to　see　every　shape　in　Nature　imitated　in　some　crazy　costume。　There　was　a　man　dressed　as　a　windmill　with　enormous　sails；　a　man　dressed　as　an　elephant；　a　man　dressed　as　a　balloon；　the　two　last；　together；　seemed　to　keep　the　thread　of　their　farcical　adventures。　Syme　even　saw；　with　a　queer　thrill；　one　dancer　dressed　like　an　enormous　hornbill；　with　a　beak　twice　as　big　as　himselfthe　queer　bird　which　had　fixed　itself　on　his　fancy　like　a　living　question　while　he　was　rushing　down　the　long　road　at　the　Zoological　Gardens。　There　were　a　thousand　other　such　objects；　however。　There　was　a　dancing　lamp…post；　a　dancing　apple　tree；　a　dancing　ship。　One　would　have　thought　that　the　untamable　tune　of　some　mad　musician　had　set　all　the　common　objects　of　field　and　street　dancing　an　eternal　jig。　And　long　afterwards；　when　Syme　was　middle…aged　and　at　rest；　he　could　never　see　one　of　those　particular　objectsa　lamppost；　or　an　apple　tree；　or　a　windmill　without　thinking　that　it　was　a　strayed　reveller　from　that　revel　of　masquerade。

On　one　side　of　this　lawn；　alive　with　dancers；　was　a　sort　of　green　bank；　like　the　terrace　in　such　old…fashioned　gardens。

Along　this；　in　a　kind　of　crescent；　stood　seven　great　chairs；　the　thrones　of　the　seven　days。　Gogol　and　Dr。　Bull　were　already　in　their　seats；　the　Professor　was　just　mounting　to　his。　Gogol；　or　Tuesday；　had　his　simplicity　well　symbolised　by　a　dress　designed　upon　the　division　of　the　waters；　a　dress　that　separated　upon　his　forehead　and　fell　to　his　feet；　grey　and　silver；　like　a　sheet　of　rain。　The　Professor；　whose　day　was　that　on　which　the　birds　and　fishesthe　ruder　forms　of　lifewere　created；　had　a　dress　of　dim　purple；　over　which　sprawled　goggle…eyed　fishes　and　outrageous　tropical　birds；　the　union　in　him　of　unfathomable　fancy　and　of　doubt。　Dr。　Bull；　the　last　day　of　Creation；　wore　a　coat　covered　with　heraldic　animals　in　red　and　gold；　and　on　his　crest　a　man　rampant。　He　lay　back　in　his　chair　with　a　broad　smile；　the　picture　of　an　optimist　in　his　element。

One　by　one　the　wanderers　ascended　the　bank　and　sat　in　their　strange　seats。　As　each　of　them　sat　down　a　roar　of　enthusiasm　rose　from　the　carnival；　such　as　that　with　which　crowds　receive　kings。　Cups　were　clashed　and　torches　shaken；　and　feathered　hats　flung　in　the　air。　The　men　for　whom　these　thrones　were　reserved　were　men　crowned　with　some　extraordinary　laurels。　But　the　central　chair　was　empty。

Syme　was　on　the　left　hand　of　it　and　the　Secretary　on　the　right。　The　Secretary　looked　across　the　empty　throne　at　Syme；　and　said；　compressing　his　lips

〃We　do　not　know　yet　that　he　is　not　dead　in　a　field。〃

Almost　as　Syme　heard　the　words；　he　saw　on　the　sea　of　human　faces　in　front　of　him　a　frightful　and　beautiful　alteration；　as　if　heaven　had　opened　behind　his　head。　But　Sunday　had　only　passed　silently　along　the　front　like　a　shadow；　and　had　sat　in　the　central　seat。　He　was　draped　plainly；　in　a　pure　and　terrible　white；　and　his　hair　was　like　a　silver　flame　on　his　forehead。

For　a　long　timeit　seemed　for　hoursthat　huge　masquerade　of　mankind　swayed　and　stamped　in　front　of　them　to　marching　and　exultant　music。　Every　couple　dancing　seemed　a　separate　romance；　it　might　be　a　fairy　dancing　with　a　pillar…box；　or　a　peasant　girl　dancing　with　the　moon；　but　in　each　case　it　was；　somehow；　as　absurd　as　Alice　in　Wonderland；　yet　as　grave　and　kind　as　a　love　story。　At　last；　however；　the　thick　crowd　began　to　thin　itself。　Couples　strolled　away　into　the　garden…walks；　or　began　to　drift　towards　that　end　of　the　building　where　stood　smoking；　in　huge　pots　like　fish…kettles；　some　hot　and　scented　mixtures　of　old　ale　or　wine。　Above　all　these；　upon　a　sort　of　black　framework　on　the　roof　of　the　house；　roared　in　its　iron　basket　a　gigantic　bonfire；　which　lit　up　the　land　for　miles。　It　flung　the　homely　effect　of　firelight　over　the　face　of　vast　forests　of　grey　or　brown；　and　it　seemed　to　fill　with　warmth　even　the　emptiness　of　upper　night。　Yet　this　also；　after　a　time；　was　allowed　to　grow　fainter；　the　dim　groups　gathered　more　and　more　round　the　great　cauldrons；　or　passed；　laughing　and　clattering；　into　the　inner　passages　of　that　ancient　house。　Soon　th