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elizabeth and her german garden-第10节

小说: elizabeth and her german garden 字数: 每页4000字

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n that lay nearest my heart。 What a delight it would be to creep into it unobserved; and revisit all the corners I so well remembered; and slip out again and get away safely without any need of explanations; assurances; protestations; displays of affection; without any need; in a word; of that exhausting form of conversation; so dear to relations; known as Redensarten! The mist tempted me。  I think if it had been a fine day I would have gone soberly to the Gasthof and written the conciliatory letter; but the temptation was too great; it was altogether irresistible; and in ten minutes I had found the gate; opened it with some difficulty; and was standing with a beating heart in the garden of my childhood。

Now I wonder whether I shall ever again feel thrills of the same potency as those that ran through me at that moment。 First of all I was trespassing; which is in itself thrilling; but how much more thrilling when you are trespassing on what might just as well have been your own ground; on what actually was for years your own ground; and when you are in deadly peril of seeing the rightful owners; whom you have never met; but with whom you have quarrelled; appear round the corner; and of hearing them remark with an inquiring and awful politeness 〃I do not think I have the pleasure?〃 Then the place was unchanged。 I was standing in the same mysterious tangle of damp little paths that had always been just there; they curled away on either side among the shrubs; with the brown tracks of recent footsteps in the centre of their green stains; just as they did in my day。 The overgrown lilac bushes still met above my head。 The moisture dripped from the same ledge in the wall on to the sodden leaves beneath; as it had done all through the afternoons of all those past Novembers。  This was the place; this damp and gloomy tangle; that had specially belonged to me。 Nobody ever came to it; for in winter it was too dreary; and in summer so full of mosquitoes that only a Backfisch indifferent to spots could have borne it。  But it was a place where I could play unobserved; and where I could walk up and down uninterrupted for hours; building castles in the air。 There was an unwholesome little arbour in one dark corner; much frequented by the larger black slug; where I used to pass glorious afternoons making plans。  I was for ever making plans; and if nothing came of them; what did it matter? The mere making had been a joy。  To me this out…of…the…way corner was always a wonderful and a mysterious place; where my castles in the air stood close together in radiant rows; and where the strangest and most splendid adventures befell me; for the hours I passed in it and the people I met in it were all enchanted。

Standing there and looking round with happy eyes; I forgot the existence of the cousins。  I could have cried for joy at being there again。  It was the home of my fathers; the home that would have been mine if I had been a boy; the home that was mine now by a thousand tender and happy and miserable associations; of which the people in possession could not dream。  They were tenants; but it was my home。 I threw my arms round the trunk of a very wet fir tree; every branch of which I remembered; for had I not climbed it; and fallen from it; and torn and bruised myself on it uncountable numbers of times? and I gave it such a hearty kiss that my nose and chin were smudged into one green stain; and still I did not care。 Far from caring; it filled me with a reckless; Backfisch pleasure in being dirty; a delicious feeling that I had not had for years。 Alice in Wonderland; after she had drunk the contents of the magic bottle; could not have grown smaller more suddenly than I grew younger the moment I passed through that magic door。 Bad habits cling to us; however; with such persistency that I did mechanically pull out my handkerchief and begin to rub off the welcoming smudge; a thing I never would have dreamed of doing in the glorious old days; but an artful scent of violets clinging to the handkerchief brought me to my senses; and with a sudden impulse of scorn; the fine scorn for scent of every honest Backfisch; I rolled it up into a ball and flung it away into the bushes; where I daresay it is at this moment。 〃Away with you;〃 I cried; 〃away with you; symbol of conventionality; of slavery; of pandering to a desire to pleaseaway with you; miserable little lace…edged rag!〃  And so young had I grown within the last few minutes that I did not even feel silly。

As a Backfisch I had never used handkerchiefs the child of nature scorns to blow its nosethough for decency's sake my governess insisted on giving me a clean one of vast size and stubborn texture on Sundays。 It was stowed away unfolded in the remotest corner of my pocket; where it was gradually pressed into a beautiful compactness by the other contents; which were knives。  After a while; I remember; the handkerchief being brought to light on Sundays to make room for a successor; and being manifestly perfectly clean; we came to an agreement that it should only be changed on the first and third Sundays in the month; on condition that I promised to turn it on the other Sundays。 My governess said that the outer folds became soiled from the mere contact with the other things in my pocket; and that visitors might catch sight of the soiled side if it was never turned when I wished to blow my nose in their presence; and that one had no right to give one's visitors shocks。 〃But I never do wish 〃 I began with great earnestness。 〃Unsinn;〃 said my governess; cutting me short。

After the first thrills of joy at being there again had gone; the profound stillness of the dripping little shrubbery frightened me。  It was so still that I was afraid to move; so still; that I could count each drop of moisture falling from the oozing wall; so still; that when I held my breath to listen; I was deafened by my own heart…beats。 I made a step forward in the direction where the arbour ought to be; and the rustling and jingling of my clothes terrified me into immobility。  The house was only two hundred yards off; and if any one had been about; the noise I had already made opening the creaking door and so foolishly apostrophising my handkerchief must have been noticed。 Suppose an inquiring gardener; or a restless cousin; should presently loom through the fog; bearing down upon me? Suppose Fraulein Wundermacher should pounce upon me suddenly from behind; coming up noiselessly in her galoshes; and shatter my castles with her customary triumphant 〃Fetzt halte ich dich aber fest!〃  Why; what was I thinking of? Fraulein Wundermacher; so big and masterful; such an enemy of day…dreams; such a friend of das Praktische; such a lover of creature comforts; had died long ago; had been succeeded long ago by others; German sometimes; and sometimes English; and sometimes at intervals French; and they too had all in their turn vanished; and I was here a solitary ghost。 〃Come; Elizabeth;〃 said I to myself impatiently; 〃are you actually growing sentimental over your governesses?  If you think you are a ghost; be glad at least that you are a solitary one。 Would you like the ghosts of all those poor women you tormented to rise up now in this gloomy place against you? And do you intend to stand here till you are caught?〃 And thus exhorting myself to action; and recognising how great was the risk I ran in lingering; I started down the little path leading to the arbour and the principal part of the garden; going; it is true; on tiptoe; and very much frightened by the rustling of my petticoats; but determined to see what I had come to see and not to be scared away by phantoms。

How regretfully did I think at that moment of the petticoats of my youth; so short; so silent; and so woollen! And how convenient the canvas shoes were with the india rubber soles; for creeping about without making a sound!  Thanks to them I could always run swiftly and unheard into my hiding…places; and stay there listening to the garden resounding with cries of 〃Elizabeth!  Elizabeth!  Come in at once to your lessons!〃 Or; at a different period; 〃Ou etes…vous donc; petite sotte?〃 Or at yet another period; 〃Warte nur; wenn ich dich erst habe!〃 As the voices came round one corner; I whisked in my noiseless clothes round the next; and it was only Fraulein Wundermacher; a person of resource; who discovered that all she needed for my successful circumvention was galoshes。  She purchased a pair; wasted no breath calling me; and would come up silently; as I stood lapped in a false security lost in the contemplation of a squirrel or a robin; and seize me by the shoulders from behind; to the grievous unhinging of my nerves。 Stealing along in the fog; I looked back uneasily once or twice; so vivid was this disquieting memory; and could hardly be reassured by putting up my hand to the elaborate twists and curls that compose what my maid calls my Frisur; and that mark the gulf lying between the present and the past; for it had happened once or twice; awful to relate and to remember; that Fraulein Wundermacher; sooner than let me slip through her fingers; had actually caught me by the long plait of hair to whose other end I was attached and whose English name I had been told was pigtail; just a

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