还乡The Return Of The Native-第4部分

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istrict；　and　as　the　hour　may　be　told　on　a　clock…face　when　the　figures　themselves　are　invisible；　so　did　the　men　recognize　the　locality　of　each　fire　by　its　angle　and　direction；　though　nothing　of　the　scenery　could　be　viewed。　
The　first　tall　flame　from　Rainbarrow　sprang　into　the　sky；　attracting　all　eyes　that　had　been　fixed　on　the　distant　conflagrations　back　to　their　own　attempt　in　the　same　kind。　　The　cheerful　blaze　streaked　the　inner　surface　of　the　human　circle—now　increased　by　other　stragglers；　male　and　female—with　its　own　gold　livery；　and　even　overlaid　the　dark　turf　around　with　a　lively　luminousness；　which　softened　off　into　obscurity　where　the　barrow　rounded　downwards　out　of　sight。　　It　showed　the　barrow　to　be　the　segment　of　a　globe；　as　perfect　as　on　the　day　when　it　was　thrown　up；　even　the　little　ditch　remaining　from　which　the　earth　was　dug。　　Not　a　plough　had　ever　disturbed　a　grain　of　that　stubborn　soil。　　In　the　heath’s　barrenness　to　the　farmer　lay　its　fertility　to　the　historian。　　There　had　been　no　obliteration；　because　there　had　been　no　tending。　
It　seemed　as　if　the　bonfire…makers　were　standing　in　some　radiant　upper　story　of　the　world；　detached　from　and　independent　of　the　dark　stretches　below。　　The　heath　down　there　was　now　a　vast　abyss；　and　no　longer　a　continuation　of　what　they　stood　on；　for　their　eyes；　adapted　to　the　blaze；　could　see　nothing　of　the　deeps　beyond　its　influence。　　Occasionally；　it　is　true；　a　more　vigorous　flare　than　usual　from　their　faggots　sent　darting　lights　like　aides…de…camp　down　the　inclines　to　some　distant　bush；　pool；　or　patch　of　white　sand；　kindling　these　to　replies　of　the　same　colour；　till　all　was　lost　in　darkness　again。　　Then　the　whole　black　phenomenon　beneath　represented　Limbo　as　viewed　from　the　brink　by　the　sublime　Florentine　in　his　vision；　and　the　muttered　articulations　of　the　wind　in　the　hollows　were　as　plaints　and　petitions　from　the　“souls　of　mighty　worth”　suspended　therein。　
It　was　as　if　these　men　and　boys　had　suddenly　dived　into　past　ages；　and　fetched　therefrom　an　hour　and　deed　which　had　before　been　familiar　with　this　spot。　　The　ashes　of　the　original　British　pyre　which　blazed　from　that　summit　lay　fresh　and　undisturbed　in　the　barrow　beneath　their　tread。　　The　flames　from　funeral　piles　long　ago　kindled　there　had　shone　down　upon　the　lowlands　as　these　were　shining　now。　　Festival　fires　to　Thor　and　Woden　had　followed　on　the　same　ground　and　duly　had　their　day。　　Indeed；　it　is　pretty　well　known　that　such　blazes　as　this　the　heathmen　were　now　enjoying　are　rather　the　lineal　descendants　from　jumbled　Druidical　rites　and　Saxon　ceremonies　than　the　invention　of　popular　feeling　about　Gunpowder　Plot。　
Moreover　to　light　a　fire　is　the　instinctive　and　resistant　act　of　man　when；　at　the　winter　ingress；　the　curfew　is　sounded　throughout　Nature。　　It　indicates　a　spontaneous；　Promethean　rebelliousness　against　that　fiat　that　this　recurrent　season　shall　bring　foul　times；　cold　darkness；　misery　and　death。　　Black　chaos　es；　and　the　fettered　gods　of　the　earth　say；　Let　there　be　light。　
The　brilliant　lights　and　sooty　shades　which　struggled　upon　the　skin　and　clothes　of　the　persons　standing　round　caused　their　lineaments　and　general　contours　to　be　drawn　with　Dureresque　vigour　and　dash。　　Yet　the　permanent　moral　expression　of　each　face　it　was　impossible　to　discover；　for　as　the　nimble　flames　towered；　nodded；　and　swooped　through　the　surrounding　air；　the　blots　of　shade　and　flakes　of　light　upon　the　countenances　of　the　group　changed　shape　and　position　endlessly。　　All　was　unstable；　quivering　as　leaves；　evanescent　as　lightning。　　Shadowy　eye…sockets；　deep　as　those　of　a　death’s　head；　suddenly　turned　into　pits　of　lustre：　a　lantern…jaw　was　cavernous；　then　it　was　shining；　wrinkles　were　emphasized　to　ravines；　or　obliterated　entirely　by　a　changed　ray。　　Nostrils　were　dark　wells；　sinews　in　old　necks　were　gilt　mouldings；　things　with　no　particular　polish　on　them　were　glazed；　bright　objects；　such　as　the　tip　of　a　furze…hook　one　of　the　men　carried；　were　as　glass；　eyeballs　glowed　like　little　lanterns。　　Those　whom　Nature　had　depicted　as　merely　quaint　became　grotesque；　the　grotesque　became　preternatural；　for　all　was　in　extremity。　
Hence　it　may　be　that　the　face　of　an　old　man；　who　had　like　others　been　called　to　the　heights　by　the　rising　flames；　was　not　really　the　mere　nose　and　chin　that　it　appeared　to　be；　but　an　appreciable　quantity　of　human　countenance。　　He　stood　placently　sunning　himself　in　the　heat。　　With　a　speaker；　or　stake；　he　tossed　the　outlying　scraps　of　fuel　into　the　conflagration；　looking　at　the　midst　of　the　pile；　occasionally　lifting　his　eyes　to　measure　the　height　of　the　flame；　or　to　follow　the　great　sparks　which　rose　with　it　and　sailed　away　into　darkness。　　The　beaming　sight；　and　the　penetrating　warmth；　seemed　to　breed　in　him　a　cumulative　cheerfulness；　which　soon　amounted　to　delight。　　With　his　stick　in　his　hand　he　began　to　jig　a　private　minuet；　a　bunch　of　copper　seals　shining　and　swinging　like　a　pendulum　from　under　his　waistcoat：　he　also　began　to　sing；　in　the　voice　of　a　bee　up　a　flue—

“The　king’　call’d　down’　his　no…bles　all’；
By　one’；　by　two’；　by　three’；
Earl　Mar’…shal；　I’ll’　go　shrive’…the　queen’；
And　thou’　shalt　wend’　with　me’。
“A　boon’；　a　boon’；　quoth　Earl’　Mar…shal’；
And　fell’　on　his　bend’…ded　knee’；
That　what’…so…e’er’　the　queen’　shall　say’；
No　harm’　there…of’　may　be’。”

Want　of　breath　prevented　a　continuance　of　the　song；　and　the　breakdown　attracted　the　attention　of　a　firm…standing　man　of　middle　age；　who　kept　each　corner　of　his　crescent…shaped　mouth　rigorously　drawn　back　into　his　cheek；　as　if　to　do　away　with　any　suspicion　of　mirthfulness　which　might　erroneously　have　attached　to　him。
“A　fair　stave；　Grandfer　Cantle；　but　I　am　afeard　‘tis　too　much　for　the　mouldy　weasand　of　such　a　old　man　as　you；”　he　said　to　the　wrinkled　reveller。　　“Dostn’t　wish　th’　wast　three　sixes　again；　Grandfer；　as　you　was　when　you　first　learnt　to　sing　it？”
“Hey？”　said　Grandfer　Cantle；　stopping　in　his　dance。　
“Dostn’t　wish　wast　young　again；　I　say？　　There’s　a　hole　in　thy　poor　bellows　nowadays　seemingly。”
“But　there’s　good　art　in　me？　　If　I　couldn’t　make　a　little　wind　go　a　long　ways　I　should　seem　no　younger　than　the　most　aged　man；　should　I；　Timothy？”
“And　how　about　the　new…married　folks　down　there　at　the　Quiet　Woman　Inn？”　the　other　inquired；　pointing　towards　a　dim　light　in　the　direction　of　the　distant　highway；　but　considerably　apart　from　where　the　reddleman　was　at　that　moment　resting。　　“What’s　the　rights　of　the　matter　about　‘em？　　You　ought　to　know；　being　an　understanding　man。”
“But　a　little　rakish；　hey？　　I　own　to　it。　　Master　Cantle　is　that；　or　he’s　nothing。　　Yet　‘tis　a　gay　fault；　neigbbour　Fairway；　that　age　will　cure。”
“I　heard　that　they　were　ing　home　tonight。　　By　this　time　they　must　have　e。　　What　besides？”
“The　next　thing　is　for　us　to　go　and　wish　‘em　joy；　I　suppose？”
“Well；　no。”
“No？　　Now；　I　thought　we　must。　　I　must；　or　‘twould　be　very　unlike　me—the　first　in　every　spree　that’s　going！

“Do　thou’　put　on’　a　fri’…ar’s　coat’；
And　I’ll’　put　on’　a…no’…ther；
And　we’　will　to’　Queen　Ele’anor　go’；
Like　Fri’ar　and’　his　bro’ther。

I　met　Mis’ess　Yeobright；　the　young　bride’s　aunt；　last　night；　and　she　told　me　that　her　son　Clym　was　ing　home　a’　Christmas。　　Wonderful　clever；　‘a　believe—ah；　I　should　like　to　have　all　that’s　under　that　young　man’s　hair。　　Well；　then；　I　spoke　to　her　in　my　well…known　merry　way；　and　she　said；　‘O　that　what’s　shaped　so　venerable　should　talk　like　a　fool！’—that’s　what　she　said　to　me。　　I　don’t　care　for　her；　be　jowned　if　I　do；　and　so　I　told　her。　　‘Be　jowned　if　I　care　for　‘ee；’　I　said。　　I　had　her　there—hey？”
“I　rather　think　she　had　you；”　said　Fairway。　
“No；”　said　Grandfer　Cantle；　his　countenance　slightly　flagging。　
“’Tisn’t　so　bad　as　that　with　me？”
“Seemingly　‘tis；　however；　is　it　because　of　the　wedding　that　Clym　is　ing　home　a’　Christmas—to　make　a　new　arrangement　because　his　mother　is　now　left　in　the　house　alone？”
“Yes；　yes—that’s　it。　　But；　Timothy；　hearken　to　me；”　said　the　Grandfer　earnestly。　　“Though　known　as　such　a　joker；　I　be　an　understanding　man　if　you　catch　me　serious；　and　I　am　serious　now。　　I　can　tell　‘ee　lots　about　the　m