还乡The Return Of The Native-第69部分

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ent　in。　　To　her　astonishment　Clym　lay　precisely　as　Wildeve　and　herself　had　left　him；　his　sleep　apparently　unbroken。　　He　had　been　disturbed　and　made　to　dream　and　murmur　by　the　knocking；　but　he　had　not　awakened。　　Eustacia　hastened　to　the　door；　and　in　spite　of　her　reluctance　to　open　it　to　a　woman　who　had　spoken　of　her　so　bitterly；　she　unfastened　it　and　looked　out。　　Nobody　was　to　be　seen。　　There；　by　the　scraper；　lay　Clym’s　hook　and　the　handful　of　faggot…bonds　he　had　brought　home；　in　front　of　her　were　the　empty　path；　the　garden　gate　standing　slightly　ajar；　and；　beyond；　the　great　valley　of　purple　heath　thrilling　silently　in　the　sun。　　Mrs。　Yeobright　was　gone。　

Clym’s　mother　was　at　this　time　following　a　path　which　lay　hidden　from　Eustacia　by　a　shoulder　of　the　hill。　　Her　walk　thither　from　the　garden　gate　had　been　hasty　and　determined；　as　of　a　woman　who　was　now　no　less　anxious　to　escape　from　the　scene　than　she　had　previously　been　to　enter　it。　　Her　eyes　were　fixed　on　the　ground；　within　her　two　sights　were　graven—that　of　Clym’s　hook　and　brambles　at　the　door；　and　that　of　a　woman’s　face　at　a　window。　　Her　lips　trembled；　being　unnaturally　thin　as　she　murmured；　“’Tis　too　much—Clym；　how　can　he　bear　to　do　it！　He　is　at　home；　and　yet　he　lets　her　shut　the　door　against　me！”
In　her　anxiety　to　get　out　of　the　direct　view　of　the　house　she　had　diverged　from　the　straightest　path　homeward；　and　while　looking　about　to　regain　it　she　came　upon　a　little　boy　gathering　whortleberries　in　a　hollow。　　The　boy　was　Johnny　Nunsuch；　who　had　been　Eustacia’s　stoker　at　the　bonfire；　and；　with　the　tendency　of　a　minute　body　to　gravitate　towards　a　greater；　he　began　hovering　round　Mrs。　Yeobright　as　soon　as　she　appeared；　and　trotted　on　beside　her　without　perceptible　consciousness　of　his　act。　
Mrs。　Yeobright　spoke　to　him　as　one　in　a　mesmeric　sleep。　　“’Tis　a　long　way　home；　my　child；　and　we　shall　not　get　there　till　evening。”
“I　shall；”　said　her　small　panion。　　“I　am　going　to　play　marnels　afore　supper；　and　we　go　to　supper　at　six　o’clock；　because　Father　es　home。　　Does　your　father　e　home　at　six　too？”
“No；　he　never　es；　nor　my　son　either；　nor　anybody。”
“What　have　made　you　so　down？　　Have　you　seen　a　ooser？”
“I　have　seen　what’s　worse—a　woman’s　face　looking　at　me　through　a　windowpane。”
“Is　that　a　bad　sight？”
“Yes。　It　is　always　a　bad　sight　to　see　a　woman　looking　out　at　a　weary　wayfarer　and　not　letting　her　in。”
“Once　when　I　went　to　Throope　Great　Pond　to　catch　effets　I　seed　myself　looking　up　at　myself；　and　I　was　frightened　and　jumped　back　like　anything。”
。。。”If　they　had　only　shown　signs　of　meeting　my　advances　halfway　how　well　it　might　have　been　done！　But　there　is　no　chance。　　Shut　out！　She　must　have　set　him　against　me。　　Can　there　be　beautiful　bodies　without　hearts　inside？　　I　think　so。　　I　would　not　have　done　it　against　a　neighbour’s　cat　on　such　a　fiery　day　as　this！”
“What　is　it　you　say？”
“Never　again—never！　Not　even　if　they　send　for　me！”
“You　must　be　a　very　curious　woman　to　talk　like　that。”
“O　no；　not　at　all；”　she　said；　returning　to　the　boy’s　prattle。　
“Most　people　who　grow　up　and　have　children　talk　as　I　do。　
When　you　grow　up　your　mother　will　talk　as　I　do　too。”
“I　hope　she　won’t；　because　‘tis　very　bad　to　talk　nonsense。”
“Yes；　child；　it　is　nonsense；　I　suppose。　　Are　you　not　nearly　spent　with　the　heat？”
“Yes。　But　not　so　much　as　you　be。”
“How　do　you　know？”
“Your　face　is　white　and　wet；　and　your　head　is　hanging…down…like。”
“Ah；　I　am　exhausted　from　inside。”
“Why　do　you；　every　time　you　take　a　step；　go　like　this？”　The　child　in　speaking　gave　to　his　motion　the　jerk　and　limp　of　an　invalid。　
“Because　I　have　a　burden　which　is　more　than　I　can　bear。”
The　little　boy　remained　silently　pondering；　and　they　tottered　on　side　by　side　until　more　than　a　quarter　of　an　hour　had　elapsed；　when　Mrs。　Yeobright；　whose　weakness　plainly　increased；　said　to　him；　“I　must　sit　down　here　to　rest。”
When　she　had　seated　herself　he　looked　long　in　her　face　and　said；　“How　funny　you　draw　your　breath—like　a　lamb　when　you　drive　him　till　he’s　nearly　done　for。　　Do　you　always　draw　your　breath　like　that？”
“Not　always。”　　Her　voice　was　now　so　low　as　to　be　scarcely　above　a　whisper。
“You　will　go　to　sleep　there；　I　suppose；　won’t　you？　　You　have　shut　your　eyes　already。”
“No。　I　shall　not　sleep　much　till—another　day；　and　then　I　hope　to　have　a　long；　long　one—very　long。　　Now　can　you　tell　me　if　Rimsmoor　Pond　is　dry　this　summer？”
“Rimsmoor　Pond　is；　but　Oker’s　Pool　isn’t；　because　he　is　deep；　and　is　never　dry—‘tis　just　over　there。”
“Is　the　water　clear？”
“Yes；　middling—except　where　the　heath…croppers　walk　into　it。”
“Then；　take　this；　and　go　as　fast　as　you　can；　and　dip　me　up　the　clearest　you　can　find。　　I　am　very　faint。”
She　drew　from　the　small　willow　reticule　that　she　carried　in　her　hand　an　old…fashioned　china　teacup　without　a　handle；　it　was　one　of　half　a　dozen　of　the　same　sort　lying　in　the　reticule；　which　she　had　preserved　ever　since　her　childhood；　and　had　brought　with　her　today　as　a　small　present　for　Clym　and　Eustacia。　
The　boy　started　on　his　errand；　and　soon　came　back　with　the　water；　such　as　it　was。　　Mrs。　Yeobright　attempted　to　drink；　but　it　was　so　warm　as　to　give　her　nausea；　and　she　threw　it　away。　　Afterwards　she　still　remained　sitting；　with　her　eyes　closed。　
The　boy　waited；　played　near　her；　caught　several　of　the　little　brown　butterflies　which　abounded；　and　then　said　as　he　waited　again；　“I　like　going　on　better　than　biding　still。　　Will　you　soon　start　again？”
“I　don’t　know。”
“I　wish　I　might　go　on　by　myself；”　he　resumed；　fearing；　apparently；　that　he　was　to　be　pressed　into　some　unpleasant　service。　　“Do　you　want　me　any　more；　please？”
Mrs。　Yeobright　made　no　reply。　
“What　shall　I　tell　Mother？”　the　boy　continued。　
“Tell　her　you　have　seen　a　broken…hearted　woman　cast　off　by　her　son。”
Before　quite　leaving　her　he　threw　upon　her　face　a　wistful　glance；　as　if　he　had　misgivings　on　the　generosity　of　forsaking　her　thus。　　He　gazed　into　her　face　in　a　vague；　wondering　manner；　like　that　of　one　examining　some　strange　old　manuscript　the　key　to　whose　characters　is　undiscoverable。　　He　was　not　so　young　as　to　be　absolutely　without　a　sense　that　sympathy　was　demanded；　he　was　not　old　enough　to　be　free　from　the　terror　felt　in　childhood　at　beholding　misery　in　adult　quarters　hither…to　deemed　impregnable；　and　whether　she　were　in　a　position　to　cause　trouble　or　to　suffer　from　it；　whether　she　and　her　affliction　were　something　to　pity　or　something　to　fear；　it　was　beyond　him　to　decide。　　He　lowered　his　eyes　and　went　on　without　another　word。　　Before　he　had　gone　half　a　mile　he　had　forgotten　all　about　her；　except　that　she　was　a　woman　who　had　sat　down　to　rest。　
Mrs。　Yeobright’s　exertions；　physical　and　emotional；　had　well…nigh　prostrated　her；　but　she　continued　to　creep　along　in　short　stages　with　long　breaks　between。　　The　sun　had　now　got　far　to　the　west　of　south　and　stood　directly　in　her　face；　like　some　merciless　incendiary；　brand　in　hand；　waiting　to　consume　her。　　With　the　departure　of　the　boy　all　visible　animation　disappeared　from　the　landscape；　though　the　intermittent　husky　notes　of　the　male　grasshoppers　from　every　tuft　of　furze　were　enough　to　show　that　amid　the　prostration　of　the　larger　animal　species　an　unseen　insect　world　was　busy　in　all　the　fullness　of　life。　
In　two　hours　she　reached　a　slope　about　three…fourths　the　whole　distance　from　Alderworth　to　her　own　home；　where　a　little　patch　of　shepherd’s…thyme　intruded　upon　the　path；　and　she　sat　down　upon　the　perfumed　mat　it　formed　there。　　In　front　of　her　a　colony　of　ants　had　established　a　thoroughfare　across　the　way；　where　they　toiled　a　never…ending　and　heavy…laden　throng。　　To　look　down　upon　them　was　like　observing　a　city　street　from　the　top　of　a　tower。　　She　remembered　that　this　bustle　of　ants　had　been　in　progress　for　years　at　the　same　spot—doubtless　those　of　the　old　times　were　the　ancestors　of　these　which　walked　there　now。　　She　leant　back　to　obtain　more　thorough　rest；　and　the　soft　eastern　portion　of　the　sky　was　as　great　a　relief　to　her　eyes　as　the　thyme　was　to　her　head。　　While　she　looked　a　heron　arose　on　that　side　of　the　sky　and　flew　on　with　his　face　towards　the　sun。　　He　had　e　dripping　wet　from　some　pool　in　the　v