The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第6章

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clear；　she　had　thick　dark　eyebrows　and　a　wide　mouth；　curiously
held。　He　saw　her　face　clearly；　as　if　by　a　light　in　the　air。　He
saw　her　face　so　distinctly；　that　he　ceased　to　coil　on　himself；
and　was　suspended。

〃That's　her；〃　he　said　involuntarily。　As　the　cart　passed　by；
splashing　through　the　thin　mud；　she　stood　back　against　the　bank。
Then；　as　he　walked　still　beside　his　britching　horse；　his　eyes
met　hers。　He　looked　quickly　away；　pressing　back　his　head；　a　pain
of　joy　running　through　him。　He　could　not　bear　to　think　of
anything。

He　turned　round　at　the　last　moment。　He　saw　her　bon；　her
shape　in　the　black　cloak；　the　movement　as　she　walked。　Then　she
was　gone　round　the　bend。

She　had　passed　by。　He　felt　as　if　he　were　walking　again　in　a
far　world；　not　Cossethay；　a　far　world；　the　fragile　reality。　He
went　on；　quiet；　suspended；　rarefied。　He　could　not　bear　to　think
or　to　speak；　nor　make　any　sound　or　sign；　nor　change　his　fixed
motion。　He　could　scarcely　bear　to　think　of　her　face。　He　moved
within　the　knowledge　of　her；　in　the　world　that　was　beyond
reality。

The　feeling　that　they　had　exchanged　recognition　possessed　him
like　a　madness；　like　a　torment。　How　could　he　be　sure；　what
confirmation　had　he？　The　doubt　was　like　a　sense　of　infinite
space；　a　nothingness；　annihilating。　He　kept　within　his　breast
the　will　to　surety。　They　had　exchanged　recognition。

He　walked　about　in　this　state　for　the　next　few　days。　And　then
again　like　a　mist　it　began　to　break　to　let　through　the　mon；
barren　world。　He　was　very　gentle　with　man　and　beast；　but　he
dreaded　the　starkness　of　disillusion　cropping　through　again。

As　he　was　standing　with　his　back　to　the　fire　after　dinner　a
few　days　later；　he　saw　the　woman　passing。　He　wanted　to　know　that
she　knew　him；　that　she　was　aware。　He　wanted　it　said　that　there
was　something　between　them。　So　he　stood　anxiously　watching；
looking　at　her　as　she　went　down　the　road。　He　called　to
Tilly。

〃Who　might　that　be？〃　he　asked。

Tilly；　the　crosseyed　woman　of　forty；　who　adored　him；　ran
gladly　to　the　window　to　look。　She　was　glad　when　he　asked　her　for
anything。　She　craned　her　head　over　the　short　curtain；　the　little
tight　knob　of　her　black　hair　sticking　out　pathetically　as　she
bobbed　about。

〃Oh　why〃she　lifted　her　head　and　peered　with　her
twisted；　keen　brown　eyes〃why；　you　know　who　it
isit's　her　from　th'　vicarageyou　know〃

〃How　do　I　know；　you　henbird；〃　he　shouted。

Tilly　blushed　and　drew　her　neck　in　and　looked　at　him　with　her
squinting；　sharp；　almost　reproachful　look。

〃Why　you　doit's　the　new　housekeeper。〃

〃Ayan'　what　by　that？〃

〃Well；　an'　what　by　that？〃　rejoined　the　indignant
Tilly。

〃She's　a　woman；　isn't　she；　housekeeper　or　no　housekeeper？
She's　got　more　to　her　than　that！　Who　is　sheshe's　got　a
name？〃

〃Well；　if　she　has；　I　don't　know；〃　retorted　Tilly；　not
to　be　badgered　by　this　lad　who　had　grown　up　into　a　man。

〃What's　her　name？〃　he　asked；　more　gently。

〃I'm　sure　I　couldn't　tell　you；〃　replied　Tilly；　on　her
dignity。

〃An'　is　that　all　as　you've　gathered；　as　she's　housekeeping　at
the　vicarage？〃

〃I've　'eered　mention　of　'er　name；　but　I　couldn't　remember　it
for　my　life。〃

〃Why；　yer　riddleskulled　woman　o'　nonsense；　what　have　you　got
a　head　for？〃

〃For　what　other　folks　'as　got　theirs　for；〃　retorted　Tilly；
who　loved　nothing　more　than　these　tilts　when　he　would　call　her
names。

There　was　a　lull。

〃I　don't　believe　as　anybody　could　keep　it　in　their　head；〃　the
womanservant　continued；　tentatively。

〃What？〃　he　asked。

〃Why；　'er　name。〃

〃How's　that？〃

〃She's　fra　some　foreign　parts　or　other。〃

〃Who　told　you　that？〃

〃That's　all　I　do　know；　as　she　is。〃

〃An'　wheer　do　you　reckon　she's　from；　then？〃

〃I　don't　know。　They　do　say　as　she　hails　fra　th'　Pole。　I　don't
know；〃　Tilly　hastened　to　add；　knowing　he　would　attack　her。

〃Fra　th'　Pole；　why　do　you　hail　fra　th'　Pole？　Who　set
up　that　menagerie　confabulation？〃

〃That's　what　they　sayI　don't　know〃

〃Who　says？〃

〃Mrs。　Bentley　says　as　she's　fra　th'　Poleelse　she　is　a
Pole；　or　summat。〃

Tilly　was　only　afraid　she　was　landing　herself　deeper　now。

〃Who　says　she's　a　Pole？〃

〃They　all　say　so。〃

〃Then　what's　brought　her　to　these　parts？〃

〃I　couldn't　tell　you。　She's　got　a　little　girl　with　her。〃

〃Got　a　little　girl　with　her？〃

〃Of　three　or　four；　with　a　head　like　a　fuzzball。〃

〃Black？〃

〃Whitefair　as　can　be；　an'　all　of　a　fuzz。〃

〃Is　there　a　father；　then？〃

〃Not　to　my　knowledge。　I　don't　know。〃

〃What　brought　her　here？〃

〃I　couldn't　say；　without　th'　vicar　axed　her。〃

〃Is　the　child　her　child？〃

〃I　s'd　think　sothey　say　so。〃

〃Who　told　you　about　her？〃

〃Why；　LizzieaMondaywe　seed　her　goin'
past。〃

〃You'd　have　to　be　rattling　your　tongues　if　anything　went
past。〃

Brangwen　stood　musing。　That　evening　he　went　up　to　Cossethay
to　the　〃Red　Lion〃；　half　with　the　intention　of　hearing　more。

She　was　the　widow　of　a　Polish　doctor；　he　gathered。　Her
husband　had　died；　a　refugee；　in　London。　She　spoke　a　bit
foreignlike；　but　you　could　easily　make　out　what　she　said。　She
had　one　little　girl　named　Anna。　Lensky　was　the　woman's　name；
Mrs。　Lensky。

Brangwen　felt　that　here　was　the　unreality　established　at
last。　He　felt　also　a　curious　certainty　about　her；　as　if　she　were
destined　to　him。　It　was　to　him　a　profound　satisfaction　that　she
was　a　foreigner。

A　swift　change　had　taken　place　on　the　earth　for　him；　as　if　a
new　creation　were　fulfilled；　in　which　he　had　real　existence。
Things　had　all　been　stark；　unreal；　barren；　mere　nullities
before。　Now　they　were　actualities　that　he　could　handle。

He　dared　scarcely　think　of　the　woman。　He　was　afraid。　Only　all
the　time　he　was　aware　of　her　presence　not　far　off；　he　lived　in
her。　But　he　dared　not　knoself　with　her
by　thinking　of　her。

One　day　he　met　her　walking　along　the　road　with　her　little
girl。　It　was　a　child　with　a　face　like　a　bud　of　appleblossom；
and　glistening　fair　hair　like　thistledown　sticking　out　in
straight；　wild；　flamy　pieces；　and　very　dark　eyes。　The　child
clung　jealously　to　her　mother's　side　when　he　looked　at　her；
staring　with　resentful　black　eyes。　But　the　mother　glanced　at　him
again；　almost　vacantly。　And　the　very　vacancy　of　her　look
inflamed　him。　She　had　wide　greybrown　eyes　with　very　dark；
fathomless　pupils。　He　felt　the　fine　flame　running　under　his
skin；　as　if　all　his　veins　had　caught　fire　on　the　surface。　And　he
went　on　walking　without　knowledge。

It　was　ing；　he　knew；　his　fate。　The　world　was　submitting　to
its　transformation。　He　made　no　move：　it　would　e；　what　would
e。

When　his　sister　Effie　came　to　the　Marsh　for　a　week；　he　went
with　her　for　once　to　church。　In　the　tiny　place；　with　its　mere
dozen　pews；　he　sat　not　far　from　the　stranger。　There　was　a
fineness　about　her；　a　poignancy　about　the　way　she　sat　and　held
her　head　lifted。　She　was　strange；　from　far　off；　yet　so　intimate。
She　was　from　far　away；　a　presence；　so　close　to　his　soul。　She　was
not　really　there；　sitting　in　Cossethay　church　beside　her　little
girl。　She　was　not　living　the　apparent　life　of　her　days。　She
belonged　to　somewhere　else。　He　felt　it　poignantly；　as　something
real　and　natural。　But　a　pang　of　fear　for　his　own　concrete　life；
that　was　only　Cossethay；　hurt　him；　and　gave　him　misgiving。

Her　thick　dark　brows　almost　met　above　her　irregular　nose；　she
had　a　wide；　rather　thick　mouth。　But　her　face　was　lifted　to
another　world　of　life：　not　to　heaven　or　death：　but　to　some　place
where　she　still　lived；　in　spite　of　her　body's　absence。

The　child　beside　her　watched　everything　with　wide；　black
eyes。　She　had　an　odd　little　defiant　look；　her　little　red　mouth
was　pinched　shut。　She　seemed　to　be　jealously　guarding　something；
to　be　always　on　the　alert　for　defence。　She　met　Brangwen's　near；
vacant；　intimate　gaze；　and　a　palpitating　hostility；　almost　like
a　flame　of　pain；　came　into　the　wide；　overconscious　dark
eyes。

The　old　clergyman　droned　on；　Cossethay　sat　unmoved　as　usual。
And　there　was　the　foreign　woman　with　a　foreign　air　about　her；
inviolate；　and　the　strange　child；　also　foreign；　jealously
guarding　something。

When　the　service　was　over；　he　walked　in　the　way　of　another
existence　out　of　the　church。　As　he　went　down　the　churchpath
with　his　sister；　behind　the　woman　and　child；　the　little　girl
suddenly　broke　from　her　mother's　hand；　and　slipped　back　with
quick；　almost　invisible　movement；　and　was　picking　at　something
almost　under　Brangwen's　feet。　Her　tiny　fingers　were　fine　and
quick；　but　they　missed　the　red　button。

〃Have　you　found　something？〃　said　Brangwen　to　her。

And　he　also　stooped　for　the　button。　But　she　had　got　it；　and
she　stood　back　with　it　pressed　against　her　little　coat；　her
black　eyes　flaring　at　him；　as　if　to　forbid　him　to　notice　her。
Then；　having　silenced　him；　she　turned　with　a　swift
〃Mother；〃　and　was　gone　down　the　path。

The　mother　had　stood　watching　impassive；　looking　not　at　the
child；　but　at　Brangwen。　He　became　aware　of　the　woman　looking　at
him；　standing　there　isolated　yet　for　him　dominant　in　her　foreign
existence。

He　did　not　know　what　to　do；　and　turned　to　his　sister。　But　the
wide　grey　eyes；　almost　vacant　yet　so　moving；　held　him　beyond
himself。

〃Mother；　I　may　have　it；　mayn't　I？〃　came　the　child's　proud；
silvery　tones。　〃Mother〃she　seemed　always　to　be　calling　her
mother　to　remember　her〃mother〃and　she　had　nothing　to　continue
now　her　mother　had　replied　〃Yes；　my　child。〃　But；　with　ready
invention；　the　child　stumbled　and　ran　on；　〃What　are　those
people's　names？〃

Brangwen　heard　the　abstract：

〃I　don't　know；　dear。〃

He　went　on　down　the　road　as　if　he　were　not　living　inside
himself；　but　somewhere　outside。

〃Who　was　that　person？〃　his　sister　Effie　asked。

〃I　couldn't　tell　you；〃　he　answered　unknowing。

〃She's　somebody　very　funny；〃　said　Effie；　almost　in
condemnation。　〃That　child's　like　one　bewitched。〃

〃Bewitchedhow　bewitched？〃　he　repeated。

〃You　can　see　for　yourself。　The　mother's　plain；　I　must
saybut　the　child　is　like　a　changeling。　She'd　be　about
thirtyfive。〃

But　he　took　no　notice。　His　sister　talked　on。

〃There's　your　woman　for　you；〃　she　continued。　〃You'd　better
marry　her。〃　But　still　he　took　no　notice。　Things　were　as
they　were。

Another　day；　at　teatime；　as　he　sat　alone　at　table；　there
came　a　knock　at　the　front　door。　It　startled　him　like　a　port