the patagonia-第1节

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The　Patagonia



by　Henry　James









CHAPTER　I







The　houses　were　dark　in　the　August　night　and　the　perspective　of

Beacon　Street；　with　its　double　chain　of　lamps；　was　a　foreshortened

desert。　　The　club　on　the　hill　alone；　from　its　semi…cylindrical　front；

projected　a　glow　upon　the　dusky　vagueness　of　the　Common；　and　as　I

passed　it　I　heard　in　the　hot　stillness　the　click　of　a　pair　of

billiard…balls。　　As　〃every　one〃　was　out　of　town　perhaps　the　servants；

in　the　extravagance　of　their　leisure；　were　profaning　the　tables。　　The

heat　was　insufferable　and　I　thought　with　joy　of　the　morrow；　of　the

deck　of　the　steamer；　the　freshening　breeze；　the　sense　of　getting　out

to　sea。　　I　was　even　glad　of　what　I　had　learned　in　the　afternoon　at

the　office　of　the　companythat　at　the　eleventh　hour　an　old　ship　with

a　lower　standard　of　speed　had　been　put　on　in　place　of　the　vessel　in

which　I　had　taken　my　passage。　　America　was　roasting；　England　might

very　well　be　stuffy；　and　a　slow　passage　（which　at　that　season　of　the

year　would　probably　also　be　a　fine　one）　was　a　guarantee　of　ten　or

twelve　days　of　fresh　air。



I　strolled　down　the　hill　without　meeting　a　creature；　though　I　could

see　through　the　palings　of　the　Common　that　that　recreative　expanse

was　peopled　with　dim　forms。　　I　remembered　Mrs。　Nettlepoint's　house

she　lived　in　those　days　（they　are　not　so　distant；　but　there　have　been

changes）　on　the　water…side；　a　little　way　beyond　the　spot　at　which　the

Public　Garden　terminates；　and　I　reflected　that　like　myself　she　would

be　spending　the　night　in　Boston　if　it　were　true　that；　as　had　been

mentioned　to　me　a　few　days　before　at　Mount　Desert；　she　was　to　embark

on　the　morrow　for　Liverpool。　　I　presently　saw　this　appearance

confirmed　by　a　light　above　her　door　and　in　two　or　three　of　her

windows；　and　I　determined　to　ask　for　her；　having　nothing　to　do　till

bedtime。　　I　had　come　out　simply　to　pass　an　hour；　leaving　my　hotel　to

the　blaze　of　its　gas　and　the　perspiration　of　its　porters；　but　it

occurred　to　me　that　my　old　friend　might　very　WELL　not　know　of　the

substitution　of　the　Patagonia　for　the　Scandinavia；　so　that　I　should

be　doing　her　a　service　to　prepare　her　mind。　　Besides；　I　could　offer

to　help　her；　to　look　after　her　in　the　morning：　　lone　women　are

grateful　for　support　in　taking　ship　for　far　countries。



It　came　to　me　indeed　as　I　stood　on　her　door…step　that　as　she　had　a

son　she　might　not　after　all　be　so　lone；　yet　I　remembered　at　the　same

time　that　Jasper　Nettlepoint　was　not　quite　a　young　man　to　lean　upon；

havingas　I　at　least　supposeda　life　of　his　own　and　tastes　and

habits　which　had　long　since　diverted　him　from　the　maternal　side。　　If

he　did　happen　just　now　to　be　at　home　my　solicitude　would　of　course

seem　officious；　for　in　his　many　wanderingsI　believed　he　had　roamed

all　over　the　globehe　would　certainly　have　learned　how　to　manage。

None　the　less；　in　fine；　I　was　very　glad　to　show　Mrs。　Nettlepoint　I

thought　of　her。　　With　my　long　absence　I　had　lost　sight　of　her；　but　I

had　liked　her　of　old；　she　had　been　a　good　friend　to　my　sisters；　and　I

had　in　regard　to　her　that　sense　which　is　pleasant　to　those　who　in

general　have　gone　astray　or　got　detached；　the　sense　that　she　at　least

knew　all　about　me。　　I　could　trust　her　at　any　time　to　tell　people　I

was　respectable。　　Perhaps　I　was　conscious　of　how　little　I　deserved

this　indulgence　when　it　came　over　me　that　I　hadn't　been　near　her　for

ages。　　The　measure　of　that　neglect　was　given　by　my　vagueness　of　mind

about　Jasper。　　However；　I　really　belonged　nowadays　to　a　different

generation；　I　was　more　the　mother's　contemporary　than　the　son's。



Mrs。　Nettlepoint　was　at　home：　　I　found　her　in　her　back　drawing…room；

where　the　wide　windows　opened　to　the　water。　　The　room　was　duskyit

was　too　hot　for　lampsand　she　sat　slowly　moving　her　fan　and　looking

out　on　the　little　arm　of　the　sea　which　is　so　pretty　at　night；

reflecting　the　lights　of　Cambridgeport　and　Charlestown。　　I　supposed

she　was　musing　on　the　loved　ones　she　was　to　leave　behind；　her　married

daughters；　her　grandchildren；　but　she　struck　a　note　more　specifically

Bostonian　as　she　said　to　me；　pointing　with　her　fan　to　the　Back　Bay：

〃I　shall　see　nothing　more　charming　than　that　over　there；　you　know！〃

She　made　me　very　welcome；　but　her　son　had　told　her　about　the

Patagonia；　for　which　she　was　sorry；　as　this　would　mean　a　longer

voyage。　　She　was　a　poor　creature　in　any　boat　and　mainly　confined　to

her　cabin　even　in　weather　extravagantly　termed　fineas　if　any

weather　could　be　fine　at　sea。



〃Ah　then　your　son's　going　with　you？〃　I　asked。



〃Here　he　comes；　he'll　tell　you　for　himself　much　better　than　I　can

pretend　to。〃　　Jasper　Nettlepoint　at　that　moment　joined　us；　dressed　in

white　flannel　and　carrying　a　large　fan。　　〃Well；　my　dear；　have　you

decided？〃　his　mother　continued　with　no　scant　irony。　　〃He　hasn't　yet

made　up　his　mind；　and　we　sail　at　ten　o'clock！〃



〃What　does　it　matter　when　my　things　are　put　up？〃　the　young　man　said。

〃There's　no　crowd　at　this　moment；　there　will　be　cabins　to　spare。　　I'm

waiting　for　a　telegramthat　will　settle　it。　　I　just　walked　up　to　the

club　to　see　if　it　was　comethey'll　send　it　there　because　they

suppose　this　house　unoccupied。　　Not　yet；　but　I　shall　go　back　in

twenty　minutes。〃



〃Mercy；　how　you　rush　about　in　this　temperature！〃　the　poor　lady

exclaimed　while　I　reflected　that　it　was　perhaps　HIS　billiard…balls　I

had　heard　ten　minutes　before。　　I　was　sure　he　was　fond　of　billiards。



〃Rush？　not　in　the　least。　　I　take　it　uncommon　easy。〃



〃Ah　I'm　bound　to　say　you　do！〃　Mrs。　Nettlepoint　returned　with

inconsequence。　　I　guessed　at　a　certain　tension　between　the　pair　and　a

want　of　consideration　on　the　young　man's　part；　arising　perhaps　from

selfishness。　　His　mother　was　nervous；　in　suspense；　wanting　to　be　at

rest　as　to　whether　she　should　have　his　company　on　the　voyage　or　be

obliged　to　struggle　alone。　　But　as　he　stood　there　smiling　and　slowly

moving　his　fan　he　struck　me　somehow　as　a　person　on　whom　this　fact

wouldn't　sit　too　heavily。　　He　was　of　the　type　of　those　whom　other

people　worry　about；　not　of　those　who　worry　about　other　people。　　Tall

and　strong；　he　had　a　handsome　face；　with　a　round　head　and　close…

curling　hair；　the　whites　of　his　eyes　and　the　enamel　of　his　teeth；

under　his　brown　moustache；　gleamed　vaguely　in　the　lights　of　the　Back

Bay。　　I　made　out　that　he　was　sunburnt；　as　if　he　lived　much　in　the

open　air；　and　that　he　looked　intelligent　but　also　slightly　brutal；

though　not　in　a　morose　way。　　His　brutality；　if　he　had　any；　was　bright

and　finished。　　I　had　to　tell　him　who　I　was；　but　even　then　I　saw　how

little　he　placed　me　and　that　my　explanations　gave　me　in　his　mind　no

great　identity　or　at　any　rate　no　great　importance。　　I　foresaw　that　he

would　in　intercourse　make　me　feel　sometimes　very　young　and　sometimes

very　old；　caring　himself　but　little　which。　　He　mentioned；　as　if　to

show　our　companion　that　he　might　safely　be　left　to　his　own　devices；

that　he　had　once　started　from　London　to　Bombay　at　three　quarters　of

an　hour's　notice。



〃Yes；　and　it　must　have　been　pleasant　for　the　people　you　were　with！〃



〃Oh　the　people　I　was　with！〃　he　returned；　and　his　tone　appeared　to

signify　that　such　people　would　always　have　to　come　off　as　they　could。

He　asked　if　there　were　no　cold　drinks　in　the　house；　no　lemonade；　no

iced　syrups；　in　such　weather　something　of　that　sort　ought　always　to

be　kept　going。　　When　his　mother　remarked　that　surely　at　the　club　they

WERE　kept　going　he　went　on：　　〃Oh　yes；　I　had　various　things　there；　but

you　know　I've　walked　down　the　hill　since。　　One　should　have　something

at　either　end。　　May　I　ring　and　see？〃　　He　rang　while　Mrs。　Nettlepoint

observed　that　with　the　people　they　had　in　the　house；　an　establishment

reduced　naturally　at　such　a　moment　to　its　simplest　expressionthey

were　burning　up　candle…ends　and　there　were　no　luxuriesshe　wouldn't

answer　for　the　service。　　The　matter　ended　in　her　leaving　the　room　in

quest　of　cordials　with　the　female　domestic　who　had　arrived　in

response　to　the　bell　and　in　whom　Jasper's　appeal　aroused　no　visible

intelligence。



She　remained　away　some　time　and　I　talked　with　her　son；　who　was

sociable　but　desultory　and　kept　moving　over　the　place；　always　with

his　fan；　as　if　he　were　properly　impatient。　　Sometimes　he　seated

himself　an　instant　on　the　window…sill；　and　then　I　made　him　out　in

fact　thoroughly　good…lookinga　fine　brown　clean　young　athlete。　　He

failed　to　tell　me　on　what　special　contingency　his　decision　depended；

he　only　alluded　familiarly　to　an　expected　telegram；　and　I　saw　he　was

probably　fond　at　no　time　of　the　trouble　of　explanations。　　His

mother's　absence　was　a　sign　that　when　it　might　be　a　question　of

gratifying　him　she　had　grown　used　to　spare　no　pains；　and　I　fancied

her　rummaging　in　some　close　storeroom；　among　old　preserve…pots；　while

the　dull　maid…servant　held　the　candle　awry。　　I　don't　know　whether

this　same　vision　was　in　his　own　eyes；　at　all　events　it　didn't　prevent

his　saying