还乡The Return Of The Native-第32部分

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“It　don’t　matter—if　you　be　not　too　young；”　said　Saint　George。　　Eustacia’s　voice　had　sounded　somewhat　more　juvenile　and　fluty　than　Charley’s。
“I　know　every　word　of　it；　I　tell　you；”　said　Eustacia　decisively。　　Dash　being　all　that　was　required　to　carry　her　triumphantly　through；　she　adopted　as　much　as　was　necessary。　　“Go　ahead；　lads；　with　the　try…over。　I’ll　challenge　any　of　you　to　find　a　mistake　in　me。”
The　play　was　hastily　rehearsed；　whereupon　the　other　mummers　were　delighted　with　the　new　knight。　　They　extinguished　the　candles　at　half…past　eight；　and　set　out　upon　the　heath　in　the　direction　of　Mrs。　Yeobright’s　house　at　Bloom’s…End。
There　was　a　slight　hoarfrost　that　night；　and　the　moon；　though　not　more　than　half　full；　threw　a　spirited　and　enticing　brightness　upon　the　fantastic　figures　of　the　mumming　band；　whose　plumes　and　ribbons　rustled　in　their　walk　like　autumn　leaves。　　Their　path　was　not　over　Rainbarrow　now；　but　down　a　valley　which　left　that　ancient　elevation　a　little　to　the　east。　　The　bottom　of　the　vale　was　green　to　a　width　of　ten　yards　or　thereabouts；　and　the　shining　facets　of　frost　upon　the　blades　of　grass　seemed　to　move　on　with　the　shadows　of　those　they　surrounded。　　The　masses　of　furze　and　heath　to　the　right　and　left　were　dark　as　ever；　a　mere　half…moon　was　powerless　to　silver　such　sable　features　as　theirs。
Half…an…hour　of　walking　and　talking　brought　them　to　the　spot　in　the　valley　where　the　grass　riband　widened　and　led　down　to　the　front　of　the　house。　　At　sight　of　the　place　Eustacia　who　had　felt　a　few　passing　doubts　during　her　walk　with　the　youths；　again　was　glad　that　the　adventure　had　been　undertaken。　　She　had　e　out　to　see　a　man　who　might　possibly　have　the　power　to　deliver　her　soul　from　a　most　deadly　oppression。　　What　was　Wildeve？　　Interesting；　but　inadequate。
Perhaps　she　would　see　a　sufficient　hero　tonight。　
As　they　drew　nearer　to　the　front　of　the　house　the　mummers　became　aware　that　music　and　dancing　were　briskly　flourishing　within。　　Every　now　and　then　a　long　low　note　from　the　serpent；　which　was　the　chief　wind　instrument　played　at　these　times；　advanced　further　into　the　heath　than　the　thin　treble　part；　and　reached　their　ears　alone；　and　next　a　more　than　usual　loud　tread　from　a　dancer　would　e　the　same　way。　　With　nearer　approach　these　fragmentary　sounds　became　pieced　together；　and　were　found　to　be　the　salient　points　of　the　tune　called　“Nancy’s　Fancy。”
He　was　there；　of　course。　　Who　was　she　that　he　danced　with？　　Perhaps　some　unknown　woman；　far　beneath　herself　in　culture；　was　by　the　most　subtle　of　lures　sealing　his　fate　this　very　instant。　　To　dance　with　a　man　is　to　concentrate　a　twelvemonth’s　regulation　fire　upon　him　in　the　fragment　of　an　hour。　　To　pass　to　courtship　without　acquaintance；　to　pass　to　marriage　without　courtship；　is　a　skipping　of　terms　reserved　for　those　alone　who　tread　this　royal　road。　　She　would　see　how　his　heart　lay　by　keen　observation　of　them　all。　
The　enterprising　lady　followed　the　mumming　pany　through　the　gate　in　the　white　paling；　and　stood　before　the　open　porch。　　The　house　was　encrusted　with　heavy　thatchings；　which　dropped　between　the　upper　windows；　the　front；　upon　which　the　moonbeams　directly　played；　had　originally　been　white；　but　a　huge　pyracanth　now　darkened　the　greater　portion。　
It　became　at　once　evident　that　the　dance　was　proceeding　immediately　within　the　surface　of　the　door；　no　apartment　intervening。　　The　brushing　of　skirts　and　elbows；　sometimes　the　bumping　of　shoulders；　could　be　heard　against　the　very　panels。　　Eustacia；　though　living　within　two　miles　of　the　place；　had　never　seen　the　interior　of　this　quaint　old　habitation。　　Between　Captain　Vye　and　the　Yeobrights　there　had　never　existed　much　acquaintance；　the　former　having　e　as　a　stranger　and　purchased　the　long…empty　house　at　Mistover　Knap　not　long　before　the　death　of　Mrs。　Yeobright’s　husband；　and　with　that　event　and　the　departure　of　her　son　such　friendship　as　had　grown　up　became　quite　broken　off。　
“Is　there　no　passage　inside　the　door；　then？”　asked　Eustacia　as　they　stood　within　the　porch。　
“No；”　said　the　lad　who　played　the　Saracen。　　“The　door　opens　right　upon　the　front　sitting…room；　where　the　spree’s　going　on。”
“So　that　we　cannot　open　the　door　without　stopping　the　dance。”
“That’s　it。　　Here　we　must　bide　till　they　have　done；　for　they　always　bolt　the　back　door　after　dark。”
“They　won’t　be　much　longer；”　said　Father　Christmas。　
This　assertion；　however；　was　hardly　borne　out　by　the　event。　　Again　the　instruments　ended　the　tune；　again　they　remenced　with　as　much　fire　and　pathos　as　if　it　were　the　first　strain。　　The　air　was　now　that　one　without　any　particular　beginning；　middle；　or　end；　which　perhaps；　among　all　the　dances　which　throng　an　inspired　fiddler’s　fancy；　best　conveys　the　idea　of　the　interminable—the　celebrated　“Devil’s　Dream。”　　The　fury　of　personal　movement　that　was　kindled　by　the　fury　of　the　notes　could　be　approximately　imagined　by　these　outsiders　under　the　moon；　from　the　occasional　kicks　of　toes　and　heels　against　the　door；　whenever　the　whirl　round　had　been　of　more　than　customary　velocity。　
The　first　five　minutes　of　listening　was　interesting　enough　to　the　mummers。　　The　five　minutes　extended　to　ten　minutes；　and　these　to　a　quarter　of　an　hour；　but　no　signs　of　ceasing　were　audible　in　the　lively　“Dream。”　　The　bumping　against　the　door；　the　laughter；　the　stamping；　were　all　as　vigorous　as　ever；　and　the　pleasure　in　being　outside　lessened　considerably。　
“Why　does　Mrs。　Yeobright　give　parties　of　this　sort？”　Eustacia　asked；　a　little　surprised　to　hear　merriment　so　pronounced。　
“It　is　not　one　of　her　bettermost　parlour…parties。　She’s　asked　the　plain　neighbours　and　workpeople　without　drawing　any　lines；　just　to　give　‘em　a　good　supper　and　such　like。　　Her　son　and　she　wait　upon　the　folks。”
“I　see；”　said　Eustacia。　
“’Tis　the　last　strain；　I　think；”　said　Saint　George；　with　his　ear　to　the　panel。　　“A　young　man　and　woman　have　just　swung　into　this　corner；　and　he’s　saying　to　her；　‘Ah；　the　pity；　‘tis　over　for　us　this　time；　my　own。’”
“Thank　God；”　said　the　Turkish　Knight；　stamping；　and　taking　from　the　wall　the　conventional　lance　that　each　of　the　mummers　carried。　　Her　boots　being　thinner　than　those　of　the　young　men；　the　hoar　had　damped　her　feet　and　made　them　cold。　
“Upon　my　song　‘tis　another　ten　minutes　for　us；”　said　the　Valiant　Soldier；　looking　through　the　keyhole　as　the　tune　modulated　into　another　without　stopping。　　“Grandfer　Cantle　is　standing　in　this　corner；　waiting　his　turn。”
“’Twon’t　be　long；　‘tis　a　six…handed　reel；”　said　the　Doctor。
“Why　not　go　in；　dancing　or　no？　　They　sent　for　us；”　said　the　Saracen。　
“Certainly　not；”　said　Eustacia　authoritatively；　as　she　paced　smartly　up　and　down　from　door　to　gate　to　warm　herself。　　“We　should　burst　into　the　middle　of　them　and　stop　the　dance；　and　that　would　be　unmannerly。”
“He　thinks　himself　somebody　because　he　has　had　a　bit　more　schooling　than　we；”　said　the　Doctor。　
“You　may　go　to　the　deuce！”　said　Eustacia。　
There　was　a　whispered　conversation　between　three　or　four　of　them；　and　one　turned　to　her。　
“Will　you　tell　us　one　thing？”　he　said；　not　without　gentleness。　
“Be　you　Miss　Vye？　　We　think　you　must　be。”
“You　may　think　what　you　like；”　said　Eustacia　slowly。
“But　honourable　lads　will　not　tell　tales　upon　a　lady。”
“We’ll　say　nothing；　miss。　　That’s　upon　our　honour。”
“Thank　you；”　she　replied。　
At　this　moment　the　fiddles　finished　off　with　a　screech；　and　the　serpent　emitted　a　last　note　that　nearly　lifted　the　roof。　　When；　from　the　parative　quiet　within；　the　mummers　judged　that　the　dancers　had　taken　their　seats；　Father　Christmas　advanced；　lifted　the　latch；　and　put　his　head　inside　the　door。
“Ah；　the　mummers；　the　mummers！”　cried　several　guests　at　once。　
“Clear　a　space　for　the　mummers。”
Humpbacked　Father　Christmas　then　made　a　plete　entry；
swinging　his　huge　club；　and　in　a　general　way　clearing　the
stage　for　the　actors　proper；　while　he　informed　the　pany
in　smart　verse　that　he　was　e；　wele　or　wele　not；
concluding　his　speech　with

“Make　room；　make　room；　my　gallant　boys；
And　give　us　space　to　rhyme；
We’ve　e　to　show　Saint　George’s　play；
Upon　this　Christmas　time。”

The　guests　were　now　arranging　themselves　at　one　end　of　the　room；　the　fiddler