The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第29部分

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And　he　was　ready　to　go　back　to　the　Marsh。

Without　knowing　it；　Anna　was　wanting　him　to　e。　In　him　she
had　escaped。　In　him　the　bounds　of　her　experience　were
transgressed：　he　was　the　hole　in　the　wall；　beyond　which　the
sunshine　blazed　on　an　outside　world。

He　came。　Sometimes；　not　often；　but　sometimes；　talking　again；
there　recurred　the　strange；　remote　reality　which　carried
everything　before　it。　Sometimes；　he　talked　of　his　father；　whom
he　hated　with　a　hatred　that　was　burningly　close　to　love；　of　his
mother；　whom　he　loved；　with　a　love　that　was　keenly　close　to
hatred；　or　to　revolt。　His　sentences　were　clumsy；　he　was　only
half　articulate。　But　he　had　the　wonderful　voice；　that　could　ring
its　vibration　through　the　girl's　soul；　transport　her　into　his
feeling。　Sometimes　his　voice　was　hot　and　declamatory；　sometimes
it　had　a　strange；　twanging；　almost　catlike　sound；　sometimes　it
hesitated；　puzzled；　sometimes　there　was　the　break　of　a　little
laugh。　Anna　was　taken　by　him。　She　loved　the　running　flame　that
coursed　through　her　as　she　listened　to　him。　And　his　mother　and
his　father　became　to　her　two　separate　people　in　her　life。

For　some　weeks　the　youth　came　frequently；　and　was　received
gladly　by　them　all。　He　sat　amongst　them；　his　dark　face　glowing；
an　eagerness　and　a　touch　of　derisiveness　on　his　wide　mouth；
something　grinning　and　twisted；　his　eyes　always　shining　like　a
bird's；　utterly　without　depth。　There　was　no　getting　hold　of　the
fellow；　Brangwen　irritably　thought。　He　was　like　a　grinning　young
tomcat；　that　came　when　he　thought　he　would；　and　without
cognizance　of　the　other　person。

At　first　the　youth　had　looked　towards　Tom　Brangwen　when　he
talked；　and　then　he　looked　towards　his　aunt；　for　her
appreciation；　valuing　it　more　than　his　uncle's；　and　then　he
turned　to　Anna；　because　from　her　he　got　what　he　wanted；　which
was　not　in　the　elder　people。

So　that　the　two　young　people；　from　being　always　attendant　on
the　elder；　began　to　draw　apart　and　establish　a　separate　kingdom。
Sometimes　Tom　Brangwen　was　irritated。　His　nephew　irritated　him。
The　lad　seemed　to　him　too　special；　selfcontained。　His　nature
was　fierce　enough；　but　too　much　abstracted；　like　a　separate
thing；　like　a　cat's　nature。　A　cat　could　lie　perfectly　peacefully
on　the　hearthrug　whilst　its　master　or　mistress　writhed　in　agony
a　yard　away。　It　had　nothing　to　do　with　other　people's　affairs。
What　did　the　lad　really　care　about　anything；　save　his　own
instinctive　affairs？

Brangwen　was　irritated。　Nevertheless　he　liked　and　respected
his　nephew。　Mrs。　Brangwen　was　irritated　by　Anna；　who　was
suddenly　changed；　under　the　influence　of　the　youth。　The　mother
liked　the　boy：　he　was　not　quite　an　outsider。　But　she　did　not
like　her　daughter　to　be　so　much　under　the　spell。

So　that　gradually　the　two　young　people　drew　apart；　escaped
from　the　elders；　to　create　a　new　thing　by　themselves。　He　worked
in　the　garden　to　propitiate　his　uncle。　He　talked　churches　to
propitiate　his　aunt。　He　followed　Anna　like　a　shadow：　like　a
long；　persistent；　unswerving　black　shadow　he　went　after　the
girl。　It　irritated　Brangwen　exceedingly。　It　exasperated　him
beyond　bearing；　to　see　the　litup　grin；　the　catgrin　as　he
called　it；　on　his　nephew's　face。

And　Anna　had　a　new　reserve；　a　new　independence。　Suddenly　she
began　to　act　independently　of　her　parents；　to　live　beyond　them。
Her　mother　had　flashes　of　anger。

But　the　courtship　went　on。　Anna　would　find　occasion　to　go
shopping　in　Ilkeston　at　evening。　She　always　returned　with　her
cousin；　he　walking　with　his　head　over　her　shoulder；　a　little　bit
behind　her；　like　the　Devil　looking　over　Lincoln；　as　Brangwen
noted　angrily　and　yet　with　satisfaction。

To　his　own　wonder；　Will　Brangwen　found　himself　in　an　electric
state　of　passion。　To　his　wonder；　he　had　stopped　her　at　the　gate
as　they　came　home　from　Ilkeston　one　night；　and　had　kissed　her；
blocking　her　way　and　kissing　her　whilst　he　felt　as　if　some　blow
were　struck　at　him　in　the　dark。　And　when　they　went　indoors；　he
was　acutely　angry　that　her　parents　looked　up　scrutinizing　at　him
and　her。　What　right　had　they　there：　why　should　they　look　up！　Let
them　remove　themselves；　or　look　elsewhere。

And　the　youth　went　home　with　the　stars　in　heaven　whirling
fiercely　about　the　blackness　of　his　head；　and　his　heart　fierce；
insistent；　but　fierce　as　if　he　felt　something　baulking　him。　He
wanted　to　smash　through　something。

A　spell　was　cast　over　her。　And　how　uneasy　her　parents　were；
as　she　went　about　the　house　unnoticing；　not　noticing　them；
moving　in　a　spell　as　if　she　were　invisible　to　them。　She　was
invisible　to　them。　It　made　them　angry。　Yet　they　had　to　submit。
She　went　about　absorbed；　obscured　for　a　while。

Over　him　too　the　darkness　of　obscurity　settled。　He　seemed　to
be　hidden　in　a　tense；　electric　darkness；　in　which　his　soul；　his
life　was　intensely　active；　but　without　his　aid　or　attention。　His
mind　was　obscured。　He　worked　swiftly　and　mechanically；　and　he
produced　some　beautiful　things。

His　favourite　work　was　woodcarving。　The　first　thing　he　made
for　her　was　a　butterstamper。　In　it　he　carved　a　mythological
bird；　a　phoenix；　something　like　an　eagle；　rising　on　symmetrical
wings；　from　a　circle　of　very　beautiful　flickering　flames　that
rose　upwards　from　the　rim　of　the　cup。

Anna　thought　nothing　of　the　gift　on　the　evening　when　he　gave
it　to　her。　In　the　morning；　however；　when　the　butter　was　made；
she　fetched　his　seal　in　place　of　the　old　wooden　stamper　of
oakleaves　and　acorns。　She　was　curiously　excited　to　see　how　it
would　turn　out。　Strange；　the　uncouth　bird　moulded　there；　in　the
cuplike　hollow；　with　curious；　thick　waverings　running　inwards
from　a　smooth　rim。　She　pressed　another　mould。　Strange；　to　lift
the　stamp　and　see　that　eaglebeaked　bird　raising　its　breast　to
her。　She　loved　creating　it　over　and　over　again。　And　every　time
she　looked；　it　seemed　a　new　thing　e　to　life。　Every　piece　of
butter　became　this　strange；　vital　emblem。

She　showed　it　to　her　mother　and　father。

〃That　is　beautiful；〃　said　her　mother；　a　little　light　ing
on　to　her　face。

〃Beautiful！〃　exclaimed　the　father；　puzzled；　fretted。　〃Why；
what　sort　of　a　bird　does　he　call　it？〃

And　this　was　the　question　put　by　the　customers　during　the
next　weeks。

〃What　sort　of　a　bird　do　you　call　that；　as　you've　got
on　th'　butter？〃

When　he　came　in　the　evening；　she　took　him　into　the　dairy　to
show　him。

〃Do　you　like　it？〃　he　asked；　in　his　loud；　vibrating　voice　that
always　sounded　strange；　reechoing　in　the　dark　places　of　her
being。

They　very　rarely　touched　each　other。　They　liked　to　be　alone
together；　near　to　each　other；　but　there　was　still　a　distance
between　them。

In　the　cool　dairy　the　candlelight　lit　on　the　large；　white
surfaces　of　the　cream　pans。　He　turned　his　head　sharply。　It　was
so　cool　and　remote　in　there；　so　remote。　His　mouth　was　open　in　a
little；　strained　laugh。　She　stood　with　her　head　bent；　turned
aside。　He　wanted　to　go　near　to　her。　He　had　kissed　her　once。
Again　his　eye　rested　on　the　round　blocks　of　butter；　where　the
emblematic　bird　lifted　its　breast　from　the　shadow　cast　by　the
candle　flame。　What　was　restraining　him？　Her　breast　was　near　him；
his　head　lifted　like　an　eagle's。　She　did　not　move。　Suddenly；
ent；　he　put　his　arms
round　her　and　drew　her　to　him。　It　was　quick；　cleanly　done；　like
a　bird　that　swoops　and　sinks　close；　closer。

He　was　kissing　her　throat。　She　turned　and　looked　at　him。　Her
eyes　were　dark　and　flowing　with　fire。　His　eyes　were　hard　and
bright　with　a　fierce　purpose　and　gladness；　like　a　hawk's。　She
felt　him　flying　into　the　dark　space　of　her　flames；　like　a　brand；
like　a　gleaming　hawk。

They　had　looked　at　each　other；　and　seen　each　other　strange；
yet　near；　very　near；　like　a　hawk　stooping；　swooping；　dropping
into　a　flame　of　darkness。　So　she　took　the　candle　and　they　went
back　to　the　kitchen。

They　went　on　in　this　way　for　some　time；　always　ing
together；　but　rarely　touching；　very　seldom　did　they　kiss。　And
then；　often；　it　was　merely　a　touch　of　the　lips；　a　sign。　But　her
eyes　began　to　waken　with　a　constant　fire；　she　paused　often　in
the　midst　of　her　transit；　as　if　to　recollect　something；　or　to
discover　something。

And　his　face　became　sombre；　intent；　he　did　not　really　hear
what　was　said　to　him。