PoorEustace!Whydidhetakethingssohardly?Ifhereallycarriedouthisresolve——andheneverchangedhismind——itwouldbetragic!Itwouldmeantheendofeverythingforhim!
PerhapsnowhewouldgettiredofMrs。Noel。Butshewasnotthesortofwomanamanwouldgettiredof。EvenBarbarainherinexperiencefeltthat。Shewouldalwaysbetoodelicatelycarefulnevertocloyhim,nevertoexactanythingfromhim,orlethimfeelthathewasboundtoherbysomuchasahair。Ah!whycouldn'ttheygoonasifnothinghadhappened?Couldnobodypersuadehim?ShethoughtagainofCourtier。Ifhe,whoknewthemboth,andwassofondofMrs。Noel,wouldtalktoMiltoun,abouttherighttobehappy,therighttorevolt?Eustaceoughttorevolt!Itwashisduty。Shesatdowntowrite;then,puttingonherhat,tookthenoteandslippeddownstairs。
CHAPTERXIX
TheflowersofsummerinthegreatglasshouseatRavenshamwerekeepingthelastafternoon—watchwhenCliftonsummonedLadyCasterleywiththewords:
"LadyValleysinthewhiteroom。"
SincethenewsofMiltoun'sillness,andofMrs。Noel'snursing,thelittleoldladyhadpossessedhersoulinpatience;often,itistrue,afflictedwithpoignantmisgivingsastothisnewinfluenceinthelifeofherfavourite,affectedtoobyasortofjealousy,nottobeadmitted,eveninherprayers,which,thoughregularenough,wereperhapssomewhatformal。Havingsmalllikingnowforleavinghome,evenforCatton,hercountryplace,shewasstillatRavensham,whereLordDennishadcomeuptostaywithherassoonasMiltounhadleftSeaHouse。ButLadyCasterleywasneververydependentoncompany。
Sheretainedunimpairedherintenseinterestinpolitics,andstillcorrespondedfreelywithprominentmen。Oflate,too,aslightrevivaloftheJunewarscarehadmadeitsmarkonherinacertainrejuvenescence,whichalwaysaccompaniedhercontemplationofnationalcrises,evenwhensuchwerealittleintheair。Atblastoftrumpetherspiritstillleapedforward,unsheatheditssword,andstoodatthesalute。Atsuchtimes,sheroseearlier,wenttobedlater,wasfarlesssusceptibletodraughts,andrefusedwithasperityanyfoodbetweenmeals。Shewrotetoowithherownhandletterswhichshewouldotherwisehavedictatedtohersecretary。
Unfortunatelythescarehaddieddownagainalmostatonce;andthepassingofdangeralwaysleftherratherirritable。LadyValleys'
visitcameasatimelyconsolation。
Shekissedherdaughtercritically;fortherewasthatabouthermannerwhichshedidnotlike。
"Yes,ofcourseIamwell!"shesaid。"Whydidn'tyoubringBarbara?"
"Shewastired!"
"H'm!Afraidofmeetingme,sinceshecommittedthatpieceoffollyoverEustace。Youmustbecarefulofthatchild,Gertrude,orshewillbedoingsomethingsillyherself。Idon'tlikethewayshekeepsClaudHarbingerhanginginthewind。"
Herdaughtercuthershort:
"ThereisbadnewsaboutEustace。"
LadyCasterleylostthelittlecolourinhercheeks;lost,too,allhersuperfluityofirritableenergy。
"Tellme,atonce!"
Havingheard,shesaidnothing;butLadyValleysnoticedwithalarmthatoverhereyeshadcomesuddenlythepeculiarfilminessofage。
"Well,whatdoyouadvise?"sheasked。
Herselftired,andtroubled,shewasconsciousofaquiteunwontedfeelingofdiscouragementbeforethissilentlittlefigure,inthesilentwhiteroom。ShehadneverbeforeseenhermotherlookasifsheheardDefeatpassingonitsdarkwings。Andmovedbysuddentendernessforthelittlefrailbodythathadbornehersolongago,shemurmuredalmostwithsurprise:
"Mother,dear!"
"Yes,"saidLadyCasterley,asifspeakingtoherself,"theboysavesthingsup;hestoreshisfeelings——theyburstandsweephimaway。
Firsthispassion;nowhisconscience。Therearetwomeninhim;butthiswillbethedeathofoneofthem。"Andsuddenlyturningonherdaughter,shesaid:
"DidyoueverhearabouthimatOxford,Gertrude?Hebrokeoutonce,andatehuskswiththeGadarenes。Youneverknew。Ofcourse——youneverhaveknownanythingofhim。"
ResentmentroseinLadyValleys,thatanyoneshouldknewhersonbetterthanherself;butshelostitagainlookingatthelittlefigure,andsaid,sighing:
"Well?"
LadyCasterleymurmured:
"Goaway,child;Imustthink。Yousayhe'stoconsult'Dennis?Doyouknowheraddress?AskBarbarawhenyougetbackandtelephoneittome。Andatherdaughter'skiss,sheaddedgrimly:
"Ishalllivetoseehiminthesaddleyet,thoughIamseventy—
eight。"
Whenthesoundofherdaughter'scarhaddied:away,sherangthebell。
"IfLadyValleysringsup,Clifton,don'ttakethemessage,butcallme。"AndseeingthatCliftondidnotmovesheaddedsharply:"Well?"
"Thereisnobadnewsofhisyounglordship'shealth,Ihope?"
"No。"
"Forgiveme,mylady,butIhavehaditonmymindforsometimetoaskyousomething。"
Andtheoldmanraisedhishandwithapeculiardignity,seemingtosay:YouwillexcusemethatforthemomentIamahumanbeingspeakingtoahumanbeing。
"Thematterofhisattachment,"hewenton,"isknowntome;ithasgivenmeacuteanxiety,knowinghislordshipasIdo,andhavingheardhimsaysomethingsingularwhenhewashereinJuly。Ishouldbegratefulifyouwouldassure——methatthereistobenohitchinhiscareer,mylady。"
TheexpressiononLadyCasterley'sfacewasstrangelycompoundedofsurprise,kindliness,defence,andimpatienceaswithachild。
"NotifIcanpreventit,Clifton,"shesaidshortly;"infact,youneednotconcernyourself。"
Cliftonbowed。
"Excusemementioningit,mylady;"aquiverranoverhisfacebetweenitslongwhitewhiskers,"buthisyounglordship'scareerismoretomethanmyown。"
Whenhehadlefther,LadyCasterleysatdowninalittlelowchair——
longshesattherebytheemptyhearth,tillthedaylight,wasallgone。
CHAPTERXX
Notfarfromthedark—haloedindeterminatelimbowheredweltthatbugbearofCharlesCourtier,thegreatHalf—TruthAuthority,hehimselfhadacoupleofroomsatfifteenshillingsaweek。TheirchiefattractionwasthatthegreatHalf—TruthLibertyhadrecommendedthem。Theytiedhimtonothing,andwereeverathisdisposalwhenhewasinLondon;forhislandlady,thoughnotboundbyagreementsotodo,lettheminsuchaway,thatshecouldturnanyoneelseoutataweek'snotice。Shewasagentlesoul,marriedtoasocialisticplumbertwentyyearshersenior。Theworthymanhadgivenhertwolittleboys,andthethreeofthemkeptherinsuchpermanentorderthattobeinthepresenceofCourtierwasthegreatestpleasuresheknew。Whenhedisappearedononeofhisnomadicmissions,explorations,oradventures,sheenclosedthewholeofhisbelongingsintwotintrunksandplacedtheminacupboardwhichsmelledalittleofmice。Whenhereappearedthetrunkswerereopened,andapowerfulscentofdriedrose—leaveswouldescape。
For,recognizingthemortalityofthingshuman,sheprocuredeverysummerfromhersister,thewifeofamarketgardener,aconsignmentofthiscommodity,whichshepassionatelysewedupinbags,andcontinuedtodeposityearbyyear,inCourtier'strunks。
This,andthewayshemadehistoast——verycrisp——andairedhislinen——verydry,werepracticallytheonlythingsshecoulddoforamannaturallyinclinedtoindependence,andaccustomedfromhismanneroflifetofendforhimself。
Atfirstsignsofhisdepartureshewouldgointosomeclosetorother,awayfromtheplumberandthetwomarksofhisaffection,andcryquietly;butneverinCourtier'spresencedidshedreamofmanifestinggrief——assoonweepinthepresenceofdeathorbirth,oranyotherfundamentaltragedyorjoy。Infaceoftherealitiesoflifeshehadknownfromheryouthupthevalueofthesimpleverb'sto——stare—tostandfast。'
AndtoherCourtierwasareality,thechiefrealityoflife,thefocusofheraspiration,themorningandtheeveningstar。
Therequest,thenfivedaysafterhisfarewellvisittoMrs。Noel——
fortheelephant—hidetrunkwhichaccompaniedhisrovings,producedherhabitualperiodofseclusion,followedbyherhabitualappearanceinhissitting—roombearinganote,andsomebagsofdriedrose——
leavesonatray。Shefoundhiminhisshirtsleeves,packing。
"Well,Mrs。Benton;offagain!"
Mrs。Benton,plaitingherhands,forshehadnotyetlostsomethingofthelookandmannerofalittlegirl,answeredinherflat,butserenevoice:
"Yes,sir;andIhopeyou'renotgoinganywhereverydangerousthistime。Ialwaysthinkyougotosuchdangerousplaces。"
"ToPersia,Mrs。Benton,wherethecarpetscomefrom。"
"Oh!yes,sir。Yourwashing'sjustcomehome。"
Her,apparentlycast—down,eyesstoredupawealthoflittledetails;
thewayhishairgrew,thesetofhisback,thecolourofhisbraces。
Butsuddenlyshesaidinasurprisingvoice:
"Youhaven'taphotographyoucouldspare,sir,toleavebehind?Mr。
Bentonwasonlysayingtomeyesterday,we'venothingtorememberhimby,incaseheshouldn'tcomeback。"
"Here'sanoldone。"
Mrs。Bentontookthephotograph。
"Oh!"shesaid;"youcanseewhoitis。"Andholdingitperhapstootightly,forherfingerstrembled,sheadded:
"Anote,please,sir;andthemessengerboyiswaitingfor——ananswer。"
Whilehereadthenoteshenoticedwithconcernhowpackinghadbroughtthebloodintohishead……
When,inresponsetothatnote,Courtierenteredthewell—knownconfectioner'scalledGustard's,itwasstillnotquitetea—time,andthereseemedtohimatfirstnooneintheroomsavethreemiddle—
agedwomenpackingsweets;theninthecornerhesawBarbara。Thebloodwasnolongerinhishead;hewaspale,walkingdownthatmahogany—colouredroomimpregnatedwiththescentofwedding—cake。
Barbara,too,waspale。
Soclosetoherthathecouldcounthereveryeyelash,andinhalethescentofherhairandclothestolistentoherstoryofMiltoun,sohesitatingly,sowistfullytold,seemedverylikebeingkeptwaitingwiththeropealreadyroundhisneck,tohearaboutanotherperson'stoothache。HefeltthistohavebeenunnecessaryonthepartofFate!Andtherecametohimperverselythememoryofthatrideoverthesun—warmedheather,whenhehadparaphrasedtheoldSiciliansong:'HerewillIsitandsing。'Hewasalongwayfromsingingnow;norwasthereloveinhisarms。Therewasinsteadacupoftea;
andinhisnostrilsthescentofcake,withnowandthenawhiffoforange—flowerwater。
"Isee,"hesaid,whenshehadfinishedtellinghim:"'Liberty'sagloriousfeast!'Youwantmetogotoyourbrother,andquoteBums?
Youknow,ofcourse,thatheregardsmeasdangerous。"
"Yes;butherespectsandlikesyou。"
"AndIrespectandlikehim,"answeredCourtier。
Oneofthemiddle—agedfemalespassed,carryingalargewhitecard—
boardbox;andthecreakingofherstaysbrokethehush。
"Youhavebeenverysweettome,"saidBarbara,suddenly。
Courtier'sheartstirred,asifitwereturningoverwithinhim;andgazingintohisteacup,heanswered"Allmenaredecenttotheeveningstar。Iwillgoatonceandfindyourbrother。WhenshallIbringyounews?"
"To—morrowatfiveI'llbeathome。"
Andrepeating,"To—morrowatfive,"herose。
Lookingbackfromthedoor,hesawherfacepuzzled,ratherreproachful,andwentoutgloomily。Thescentofcake,andorange—
flowerwater,thecreakingofthefemale'sstays,thecolourofmahogany,stillclungtohisnoseandears,andeyes;butwithinhimitwasalldullbaffledrage。Whyhadhenotmadethemostofthisunexpectedchance;whyhadhenotmadedesperatelovetoher?A
conscientiousass!Andyet——thewholethingwasabsurd!Shewassoyoung!Godknewhewouldbegladtobeoutofit。Ifhestayedhewasafraidthathewouldplaythefool。Butthememoryofherwords:
"Youhavebeenverysweettome!"wouldnotleavehim;northememoryofherface,sopuzzled,andreproachful。Yes,ifhestayedhewouldplaythefool!Hewouldbeaskinghertomarryamandoubleherage,ofnopositionbutthatwhichhehadcarvedforhimself,andwithoutarap。Andhewouldbeaskingherinsuchawaythatshemightpossiblyhavesomelittledifficultyinrefusing。Hewouldbelettinghimselfgo。Andshewasonlytwenty——forallherwoman—of—
the—worldair,achild!No!Hewouldbeusefultoher,ifpossible,thisonce,andthenclearout!
CHAPTERXXI
WhenMiltounleftValleysHousehewalkedinthedirectionofWestminster。DuringthefivedaysthathehadbeenbackinLondonhehadnotyetenteredtheHouseofCommons。Aftertheseclusionofhisillness,hestillfeltayearning,almostpainful,towardsthemovementandstirofthetown。Everythingheheardandsawmadeanintenselyvividimpression。ThelionsinTrafalgarSquare,thegreatbuildingsofWhitehall,filledhimwithasortofexultation。Hewaslikeaman,who,afteralongseavoyage,firstcatchessightofland,andstandsstraininghiseyes,hardlybreathing,takinginonebyonethelostfeaturesofthatface。HewalkedontoWestminsterBridge,andgoingtoanembrasureintheverycentre,lookedbacktowardsthetowers。
Itwassaidthattheloveofthosetowerspassedintotheblood。Itwassaidthathewhohadsatbeneaththemcouldneveragainbequitethesame。Miltounknewthatitwastrue——desperatelytrue,ofhimself。Inpersonhehadsattherebutthreeweeks,butinsoulheseemedtohavebeensittingtherehundredsofyears。Andnowhewouldsittherenomore!Analmostfranticdesiretofreehimselffromthiscoilroseupwithinhim。Tobeheldaprisonerbythatmostsecretofallhisinstincts,theinstinctforauthority!Tobeunabletowieldauthoritybecausetowieldauthoritywastoinsultauthority。God!Itwashard!Heturnedhisbackonthetowers;andsoughtdistractioninthefacesofthepassers—by。
Eachofthese,heknew,hadhisstruggletokeepself—respect!Orwasitthattheywereunconsciousofstruggleorofself—respect,andjustletthingsdrift?Theylookedlikethat,mostofthem!Andallhisinherentcontemptfortheaverageorcommonwelledupashewatchedthem。Yes,theylookedlikethat!Ironically,thesightofthosefromwhomhehaddesiredthecomfortofcompromise,servedinsteadtostimulatethatpartofhimwhichrefusedtolethimcompromise。Theylookedsoft,soggy,withoutprideorwill,asthoughtheyknewthatlifewastoomuchforthem,andhadshamefullyacceptedthefact。Theysoobviouslyneededtobetoldwhattheymightdo,andwhichwaytheyshould,go;theywouldacceptordersastheyacceptedtheirwork,orpleasures:Andthethoughtthathewasnowdebarredfromtherighttogivethemorders,rankledinhimfuriously。They,intheirturn,glancedcasuallyathistallfigureleaningagainsttheparapet,notknowinghowtheirfatewastremblinginthebalance。Histhin,sallowface,andhungryeyesgaveoneortwoofthemperhapsafeelingofinterestordiscomfort;buttomosthewasassuredlynomorethananyothermanorwomaninthehurly—
burly。Thatdarkfigureofconsciouspowerstrugglinginthefettersofitsownbeliefinpower,wasapieceofsculpturetheyhadneithertimenorwishtounderstand,havingnotastefortragedy——forwitnessingthehumanspiritdriventothewall。
Itwasfiveo'clockbeforeMiltounlefttheBridge,andpassed,likeanexile,beforethegatesofChurchandState,onhiswaytohisuncle'sClub。HestoppedtotelegraphtoAudreythetimehewouldbecomingto—morrowafternoon;andonleavingthePost—Office,noticedinthewindowoftheadjoiningshopsomereproductionsofoldItalianmasterpieces,amongstthemoneofBotticelli's'BirthofVenus。'Hehadneverseenthatpicture;and,rememberingthatshehadtoldhimitwasherfavourite,hestoppedtolookatit。Averagelywellversedinsuchmatters,asbecameoneofhiscaste,Miltounhadnotthepoweroflettingaworkofartinsidiouslystealtheprivateselffromhissoul,andreplaceitwiththeselfofalltheworld;andheexaminedthisfar—famedpresentmentoftheheathengoddesswithaloofness,evenirritation。Thedrawingofthebodyseemedtohimcrude,thewholepicturealittleflatandEarly;hedidnotlikethefigureoftheFlora。Thegoldenserenity,andtenderness,ofwhichshehadspoken,lefthimcold。Thenhefoundhimselflookingattheface,andslowly,butwithuncannycertainty,begantofeelthathewaslookingatthefaceofAudreyherself。Thehairwasgoldenanddifferent,theeyesgreyanddifferent,themouthalittlefuller;
yet——itwasherface;thesameovalshape,thesamefar—apart,archedbrows,thesamestrangelytender,elusivespirit。And,asthoughoffended,heturnedandwalkedon。Inthewindowofthatlittleshopwastheeffigyofherforwhomhehadbarteredawayhislife——theincarnationofpassiveandentwininglove,thatgentlecreature,whohadgivenherselftohimsoutterly,forwhomlove,andtheflowers,andtrees,andbirds,music,thesky,andthequick—flowingstreams,wereall—sufficing;andwho,likethegoddessinthepicture,seemedwonderingatherownexistence。Hehadasuddenglimpseofunderstanding,strangeindeedinonewhohadsolittlepowerofseeingintoothers'hearts:Oughtsheevertohavebeenbornintoaworldlikethis?Buttheflashofinsightyieldedquicklytothatsickeningconsciousnessofhisownposition,whichneverlefthimnow。Whateverelsehedid,hemustgetridofthatmalaise!Butwhatcouldhedointhatcominglife?Writebooks?Whatsortofbookscouldhewrite?Onlysuchasexpressedhisviewsofcitizenship,hispoliticalandsocialbeliefs。Aswellremainsittingandspeakingbeneaththosetowers!Hecouldneverjointhehappybandofartists,thosesoftandindeterminatespirits,forwhombarriershadnomeaning,content—tounderstand,interpret,andcreate。Whatshouldhebedoinginthatgalley?Thethoughtwasinconceivable。AcareerattheBar——yes,hemighttakethatup;buttowhatend?Tobecomeajudge!Aswellcontinuetositbeneaththosetowers!Toolatefordiplomacy。ToolatefortheArmy;
besides,hehadnotthefaintesttasteformilitaryglory。BuryhimselfinthecountrylikeUncleDennis,andadministeroneofhisfather'sestates?Itwouldbedeath。Goamongstthepoor?Foramomenthethoughthehadfoundanewvocation。Butinwhatcapacity——toordertheirlives,whenhehimselfcouldnotorderhisown;or,asamereconduitpipeformoney,whenhebelievedthatcharitywasrottingthenationtoitscore?Attheheadofeveryavenuestoodanangelordevilwithdrawnsword。Andthentherecametohimanotherthought。SincehewasbeingcastforthfromChurchandState,couldhenotplaythefallenspiritlikeaman——beLucifer,anddestroy!
Andinstinctivelyheatoncesawhimselfreturningtothosetowers,andbeneaththemcrossingthefloor;joiningtherevolutionaries,theRadicals,thefreethinkers,scourginghispresentParty,thepartyofauthorityandinstitutions。Theideastruckhimassupremelycomic,andhelaughedoutloudinthestreet……
TheClubwhichLordDennisfrequentedwasinSt。James'suntouchedbythetidesofthewatersoffashion——steadilyswingingtoitsmooringsinaquietbackwater,andMiltounfoundhisuncleinthelibrary。HewasreadingavolumeofBurton'stravels,anddrinkingtea。
"Nobodycomeshere,"hesaid,"so,inspiteofthatwordonthedoor,weshalltalk。Waiter,bringsomemoretea,please。"
Impatiently,butwithasortofpity,MiltounwatchedLordDennis'surbanemovements,whereinoldagewas,pathetically,tryingtomakeeachlittlethingseemimportant,ifonlytothedoer。Nothinghisgreat—unclecouldsaywouldoutweighthewarningofhispicturesqueoldfigure!Tobeabystander;toseeitallgopastyou;toletyourswordrustinitssheath,asthispooroldfellowhaddone!ThenotionofexplainingwhathehadcomeaboutwasparticularlyhatefultoMiltoun;butsincehehadgivenhisword,henervedhimselfwithsecretanger,andbegan:
"Ipromisedmymothertoaskyouaquestion,UncleDennis。Youknowofmyattachment,Ibelieve?"
LordDennisnodded。
"Well,Ihavejoinedmylifetothislady's。Therewillbenoscandal,butIconsideritmydutytoresignmyseat,andleavepubliclifealone。Isthatrightorwrongaccordingto,yourview?"
LordDennislookedathisnephewinsilence。Afaintflushcolouredhisbrowncheeks。Hehadtheappearanceofonetravellinginmindoverthepast。
"Wrong,Ithink,"hesaid,atlast。
"Why,ifImayask?"
"Ihavenotthepleasureofknowingthislady,andamthereforesomewhatinthedark;butitappearstomethatyourdecisionisnotfairtoher。"
"Thatisbeyondme,"saidMiltoun。
LordDennisansweredfirmly:
"Youhaveaskedmeafrankquestion,expectingafrankanswer,I
suppose?"
Miltounnodded。
"Then,mydear,don'tblamemeifwhatIsayisunpalatable。"
"Ishallnot。"
"Good!Yousayyouaregoingtogiveuppubliclifeforthesakeofyourconscience。Ishouldhavenocriticismtomakeifitstoppedthere。"
Hepaused,andforquiteaminuteremainedsilent,evidentlysearchingforwordstoexpresssomeintricatethreadofthought。
"Butitwon't,Eustace;thepublicmaninyouisfarstrongerthantheother。Youwantleadershipmorethanyouwantlove。Yoursacrificewillkillyouraffection;whatyouimagineisyourlossandhurt,willprovetobethislady'sintheend。"
Miltounsmiled。
LordDenniscontinuedverydrylyandwithatouchofmalice:
"Youarenotlisteningtome;butIcanseeverywellthattheprocesshasbegunalreadyunderneath。There'sacuriousstreakoftheJesuitinyou,Eustace。Whatyoudon'twanttosee,youwon'tlookat。"
"Youadviseme,then,tocompromise?"
"Onthecontrary,Ipointoutthatyouwillbecompromisingifyoutrytokeepbothyourconscienceandyourlove。Youwillbeseekingtohave,itbothways。"
"Thatisinteresting。"
"Andyouwillfindyourselfhavingitneither,"saidLordDennissharply。
Miltounrose。"Inotherwords,you,liketheothers,recommendmetodesertthisladywholovesme,andwhomIlove。Andyet,Uncle,theysaythatinyourowncase————"
ButLordDennishadrisen,too,havinglostalltheappanageandmannerofoldage。
"Ofmyowncase,"hesaidbluntly,"wewon'ttalk。Idon'tadviseyoutodesertanyone;youquitemistakeme。Iadviseyoutoknowyourself。AndItellyoumyopinionofyou——youwerecutoutbyNatureforastatesman,notalover!There'ssomethingdried—upinyou,Eustace;I'mnotsurethereisn'tsomethingdried—upinallourcaste。We'vehadtodowithformsandceremoniestoolong。We'renotgoodattakingthelyricalpointofview。"
"Unfortunately,"saidMiltoun,"Icannot,tofitinwithatheoryofyours,commitabaseness。"
LordDennisbeganpacingupanddown。Hewaskeepinghislipsclosedverytight。
"Amanwhogivesadvice,"hesaidatlast,"isalwayssomethingofafool。Forallthat,youhavemistakenmine。Iamnotsopresumptuousastoattempttoentertheinnerchamberofyourspirit。
Ihavemerelytoldyouthat,inmyopinion,itwouldbemorehonesttoyourself,andfairertothislady,tocompoundwithyourconscience,andkeepbothyourloveandyourpubliclife,thantopretendthatyouwerecapableofsacrificingwhatIknowisthestrongerelementinyouforthesakeoftheweaker。Yourememberthesaying,DemocritusIthink:'eachman'snatureorcharacterishisfateorGod'。Irecommendittoyou。"
ForafullminuteMiltounstoodwithoutreplying,thensaid:
"Iamsorrytohavetroubledyou,UncleDennis。Amiddlepolicyisnousetome。Good—bye!"Andwithoutshakinghands,hewentout。
CHAPTERXXII
Inthehallsomeonerosefromasofa,andcametowardshim。ItwasCourtier。
"Runyoutoearthatlast,"hesaid;"Iwishyou'dcomeanddinewithme。I'mleavingEnglandto—morrownight,andtherearethingsIwanttosay。"
TherepassedthroughMiltoun'smindtherapidthought:'Doesheknow?'Heassented,however,andtheywentouttogether。
"It'sdifficulttofindaquietplace,"saidCourtier;"butthismightdo。"
Theplacechosenwasalittlehostel,frequentedbyracingmen,andfamedfortheexcellenceofitssteaks。Andastheysatdownoppositeeachotherinthealmostemptyroom,Miltounthought:Yes,hedoesknow!CanIstandanymoreofthis?Hewaitedalmostsavagelyfortheattackhefeltwascoming。
"Soyouaregoingtogiveupyourseat?"saidCourtier。
Miltounlookedathimforsomeseconds,beforereplying。
"Fromwhattown—crierdidyouhearthat?"
ButtherewasthatinCourtier'sfacewhichcheckedhisanger;itsfriendlinesswastransparent。
"Iamaboutheronlyfriend,"Courtierproceededearnestly;"andthisismylastchance——tosaynothingofmyfeelingtowardsyou,which,believeme,isverycordial。"
"Goon,then,"Miltounmuttered。
"Forgivemeforputtingitbluntly。Haveyouconsideredwhatherpositionwasbeforeshemetyou?"
Miltounfeltthebloodrushingtohisface,buthesatstill,clenchinghisnailsintothepalmsofhishands。
"Yes,yes,"saidCourtier,"butthatattitudeofmind——youusedtohaveityourself——whichdecreeseitherlivingdeath,orspiritualadulterytowomen,makesmybloodboil。Youcan'tdenythatthosewerethealternatives,andIsayyouhadtherightfundamentallytoprotestagainstthem,notonlyinwordsbutdeeds。Youdidprotest,Iknow;butthispresentdecisionofyoursisaclimbdown,asmuchastosaythatyourprotestwaswrong。"
Miltounrosefromhisseat。"Icannotdiscussthis,"hesaid;"I
cannot。"
"Forhersake,youmust。Ifyougiveupyourpublicwork,you'llspoilherlifeasecondtime。"
Miltounagainsatdown。Attheword'must'asteelyfeelinghadcometohisaid;hiseyesbegantoresembletheoldCardinal's。"Yournatureandmine,Courtier,"hesaid,"aretoofarapart;weshallneverunderstandeachother。"
"Nevermindthat,"answeredCourtier。"Admittingthosetwoalternativestobehorrible,whichyouneverwouldhavedoneunlessthefactshadbeenbroughthometoyoupersonally"That,"saidMiltounicily,"Idenyyourrighttosay。"
"Anyway,youdoadmitthem——ifyoubelieveyouhadnottherighttorescueher,onwhatprincipledoyoubasethatbelief?"
Miltounplacedhiselbowonthetable,andleaninghischinonhishand,regardedthechampionoflostcauseswithoutspeaking。Therewassuchaturmoilgoingonwithinhimthatwithdifficultyhecouldforcehislipstoobeyhim。
"Bywhatrightdoyouaskmethat?"hesaidatlast。HesawCourtier'sfacegrowscarlet,andhisfingerstwistingfuriouslyatthoseflame—likemoustaches;buthisanswerwasassteadilyironicalasusual。
"Well,Icanhardlysitstill,mylasteveninginEngland,withoutliftingafinger,whileyouimmolateawomantowhomIfeellikeabrother。I'lltellyouwhatyourprincipleis:Authority,unjustorjust,desirableorundesirable,mustbeimplicitlyobeyed。Tobreakalaw,nomatteronwhatprovocation,orforwhosesake,istobreakthecommandment"
"Don'thesitate——say,ofGod。"
"OfaninfalliblefixedPower。Isthatatruedefinitionofyourprinciple?"
"Yes,"saidMiltoun,betweenhisteeth,"Ithinkso。"