manalive-第26节

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I　jumped　into　the　gulf；　and　as　blindly　as　Curtius；　for　I　was　still　thinking
of　Santa　Claus　and　the　traditional　virtue　of　such　vertical　entrance。

〃In　every　well…appointed　gentleman's　house；　I　reflected；　there　was
the　front　door　for　the　gentlemen；　and　the　side　door　for　the　tradesmen；
but　there　was　also　the　top　door　for　the　gods。　　The　chimney　is；
so　to　speak；　the　underground　passage　between　earth　and　heaven。
By　this　starry　tunnel　Santa　Claus　manageslike　the　skylark
to　be　true　to　the　kindred　points　of　heaven　and　home。
Nay；　owing　to　certain　conventions；　and　a　widely　distributed　lack
of　courage　for　climbing；　this　door　was；　perhaps；　little　used。
But　Santa　Claus's　door　was　really　the　front　door：
it　was　the　door　fronting　the　universe。

〃I　thought　this　as　I　groped　my　way　across　the　black　garret；　or　loft　below
the　roof；　and　scrambled　down　the　squat　ladder　that　let　us　down　into　a　yet
larger　loft　below。　　Yet　it　was　not　till　I　was　half…way　down　the　ladder　that　I
suddenly　stood　still；　and　thought　for　an　instant　of　retracing　all　my　steps；
as　my　companion　had　retraced　them　from　the　beginning　of　the　garden　wall。
The　name　of　Santa　Claus　had　suddenly　brought　me　back　to　my　senses。
I　remembered　why　Santa　Clause　came；　and　why　he　was　welcome。

〃I　was　brought　up　in　the　propertied　classes；　and　with　all
their　horror　of　offences　against　property。　　I　had　heard　all
the　regular　denunciations　of　robbery；　both　right　and　wrong；
I　had　read　the　Ten　Commandments　in　church　a　thousand　times。
And　then　and　there；　at　the　age　of　thirty…four；　half…way
down　a　ladder　in　a　dark　room　in　the　bodily　act　of　burglar；
I　saw　suddenly　for　the　first　time　that　theft；　after　all；
is　really　wrong。

〃It　was　too　late　to　turn　back；　however；　and　I　followed
the　strangely　soft　footsteps　of　my　huge　companion　across
the　lower　and　larger　loft；　till　he　knelt　down　on　a　part
of　the　bare　flooring　and；　after　a　few　fumbling　efforts；
lifted　a　sort　of　trapdoor。　　This　released　a　light　from　below；
and　we　found　ourselves　looking　down　into　a　lamp…lit　sitting　room；
of　the　sort　that　in　large　houses　often　leads　out　of　a　bedroom；
and　is　an　adjunct　to　it。　　Light　thus　breaking　from　beneath
our　feet　like　a　soundless　explosion；　showed　that　the　trapdoor
just　lifted　was　clogged　with　dust　and　rust；　and　had　doubtless
been　long　disused　until　the　advent　of　my　enterprising　friend。
But　I　did　not　look　at　this　long；　for　the　sight　of　the　shining
room　underneath　us　had　an　almost　unnatural　attractiveness。
To　enter　a　modern　interior　at　so　strange　an　angle；
by　so　forgotten　a　door；　was　an　epoch　in　one's　psychology。
It　was　like　having　found　a　fourth　dimension。

〃My　companion　dropped　from　the　aperture　into　the　room　so　suddenly
and　soundlessly；　that　I　could　do　nothing　but　follow　him；
though；　for　lack　of　practice　in　crime；　I　was　by　no　means　soundless。
Before　the　echo　of　my　boots　had　died　away；　the　big　burglar
had　gone　quickly　to　the　door；　half　opened　it；　and　stood　looking
down　the　staircase　and　listening。　　Then；　leaving　the　door
still　half　open；　he　came　back　into　the　middle　of　the　room；
and　ran　his　roving　blue　eye　round　its　furniture　and　ornament。
The　room　was　comfortably　lined　with　books　in　that　rich　and　human
way　that　makes　the　walls　seem　alive；　it　was　a　deep　and　full；
but　slovenly；　bookcase；　of　the　sort　that　is　constantly　ransacked
for　the　purposes　of　reading　in　bed。　　One　of　those　stunted
German　stoves　that　look　like　red　goblins　stood　in　a　corner；
and　a　sideboard　of　walnut　wood　with　closed　doors　in　its　lower　part。
There　were　three　windows；　high　but　narrow。　　After　another　glance　round；
my　housebreaker　plucked　the　walnut　doors　open　and　rummaged　inside。
He　found　nothing　there；　apparently；　except　an　extremely
handsome　cut…glass　decanter；　containing　what　looked　like　port。
Somehow　the　sight　of　the　thief　returning　with　this　ridiculous　little
luxury　in　his　hand　woke　within　me　once　more　all　the　revelation
and　revulsion　I　had　felt　above。

〃‘Don't　do　it！'　　I　cried　quite　incoherently；　‘Santa　Claus'

〃‘Ah；'　said　the　burglar；　as　he　put　the　decanter　on　the　table
and　stood　looking　at　me；　‘you've　thought　about　that；　too。'

〃‘I　can't　express　a　millionth　part　of　what　I've　thought　of；'　I　cried；
‘but　it's　something　like　this。。。　oh；　can't　you　see　it？　　Why　are　children
not　afraid　of　Santa　Claus；　though　he　comes　like　a　thief　in　the　night？
He　is　permitted　secrecy；　trespass；　almost　treacherybecause　there　are
more　toys　where　he　has　been。　　What　should　we　feel　if　there　were　less？
Down　what　chimney　from　hell　would　come　the　goblin　that　should　take
away　the　children's　balls　and　dolls　while　they　slept？　　Could　a　Greek
tragedy　be　more　gray　and　cruel　than　that　daybreak　and　awakening？
Dog…stealer；　horse…stealer；　man…stealercan　you　think　of　anything
so　base　as　a　toy…stealer？'

〃The　burglar；　as　if　absently；　took　a　large　revolver　from　his　pocket　and　laid
it　on　the　table　beside　the　decanter；　but　still　kept　his　blue　reflective　eyes
fixed　on　my　face。

〃‘Man！'　I　said；　‘all　stealing　is　toy…stealing。　That's　why
it's　really　wrong。　　The　goods　of　the　unhappy　children　of　men
should　be　really　respected　because　of　their　worthlessness。
I　know　Naboth's　vineyard　is　as　painted　as　Noah's　Ark。　　I　know
Nathan's　ewe…lamb　is　really　a　woolly　baa…lamb　on　a　wooden　stand。
That　is　why　I　could　not　take　them　away。　　I　did　not　mind　so　much；
as　long　as　I　thought　of　men's　things　as　their　valuables；
but　I　dare　not　put　a　hand　upon　their　vanities。'

〃After　a　moment　I　added　abruptly；　‘Only　saints　and　sages　ought　to　be　robbed。
They　may　be　stripped　and　pillaged；　but　not　the　poor　little　worldly　people
of　the　things　that　are　their　poor　little　pride。'

〃He　set　out　two　wineglasses　from　the　cupboard；　filled　them　both；
and　lifted　one　of　them　with　a　salutation　towards　his　lips。

〃‘Don't　do　it！'　　I　cried。　　‘It　might　be　the　last　bottle　of　some　rotten
vintage　or　other。　　The　master　of　this　house　may　be　quite　proud　of　it。
Don't　you　see　there's　something　sacred　in　the　silliness　of　such　things？'

〃‘It's　not　the　last　bottle；'　answered　my　criminal　calmly；
‘there's　plenty　more　in　the　cellar。'

〃‘You　know　the　house；　then？'　　I　said。

〃‘Too　well；'　he　answered；　with　a　sadness　so　strange　as　to　have
something　eerie　about　it。　　‘I　am　always　trying　to　forget　what　I　know
and　to　find　what　I　don't　know。'　　He　drained　his　glass。
‘Besides；'　he　added；　‘it　will　do　him　good。'

〃‘What　will　do　him　good？'

〃‘The　wine　I'm　drinking；'　said　the　strange　person。

〃‘Does　he　drink　too　much；　then？'　　I　inquired。

〃‘No；'　he　answered；　‘not　unless　I　do。'

〃‘Do　you　mean；'　I　demanded；　‘that　the　owner　of　this　house　approves
of　all　you　do？'

〃‘God　forbid；'　he　answered；　‘but　he　has　to　do　the　same。'

〃The　dead　face　of　the　fog　looking　in　at　all　three　windows
unreasonable　increased　a　sense　of　riddle；　and　even　terror；
about　this　tall；　narrow　house　we　had　entered　out　of　the　sky。
I　had　once　more　the　notion　about　the　gigantic　genii
I　fancied　that　enormous　Egyptian　faces；　of　the　dead　reds
and　yellows　of　Egypt；　were　staring　in　at　each　window　of　our
little　lamp…lit　room　as　at　a　lighted　stage　of　marionettes。
My　companion　went　on　playing　with　the　pistol　in　front　of　him；
and　talking　with　the　same　rather　creepy　confidentialness。

〃‘I　am　always　trying　to　find　himto　catch　him　unawares。
I　come　in　through　skylights　and　trapdoors　to　find　him；
but　whenever　I　find　himhe　is　doing　what　I　am　doing。'

〃I　sprang　to　my　feet　with　a　thrill　of　fear。　　‘There　is　some　one　coming；'
I　cried；　and　my　cry　had　something　of　a　shriek　in　it。　　〃Not　from
the　stairs　below；　but　along　the　passage　from　the　inner　bedchamber
（which　seemed　somehow　to　make　it　more　alarming）；　footsteps　were
coming　nearer。　　I　am　quite　unable　to　say　what　mystery；　or　monster；
or　double；　I　expected　to　see　when　the　door　was　pushed　open　from　within。
I　am　only　quite　certain　that　I　did　not　expect　to　see　what　I　did　see。

〃Framed　in　the　open　doorway　stood；　with　an　air　of　great　serenity；
a　rather　tall　young　woman；　definitely　though　indefinably　artistic
her　dress　the　colour　of　spring　and　her　hair　of　autumn　leaves；
with　a　face　which；　though　still　comparatively　young；
conveyed　experience　as　well　as　intelligence。　　All　she　said　was；
‘I　didn't　hear　you　come　in。'

〃‘I　came　in　another　way；'　said　the　Permeator；　somewhat　vaguely。
‘I'd　left　my　latchkey　at　home。'

〃I　got　to　my　feet　in　a　mixture　of　politeness　and　mania。
‘I'm　really　very　sorry；'　I　cried。　　‘I　know　my　position　is　irregular。
Would　you　be　so　obliging　as　to　tell　me　whose　house　this　is。？'

〃‘Mine；'　said　the　burglar；　‘May　I　present　you　to　my　wife？'

〃I　doubtfully；　and　somewhat　slowly；　resumed　my　seat；
and　I　did　not　get　out　of　it　till　nearly　morning。　　Mrs。　Smith
（such　was　the　prosaic　name　of　this　far　from　prosaic　household）
lingered　a　little；　talking　slightly　and　pleasantly。
She　left　on　my　mind　the　impression　of　a　certain　odd　mixture
of　shyness　and　sharpness；　as　if　she　knew　the　world　well；
but　was　still　a　little　harmlessly　afraid　of　it。
Perhaps　the　possession　of　so　jumpy　and　incalculable　a　husband
had　left　her　a　little　nervous。　　Anyhow；　when　she　had　retired
to　the　inner　chamber　once　more；　that　extraordinary　man　poured
forth　his　apologia　and　autobiography　over　the　dwindling　wine。

〃He　had　been　sent　to　Cambridge　with　a　view　to　a