‘LET’S pretend,’ suggested Harold, ‘that we’re Cavaliers and Roundheads; and you be a Roundhead!’
‘O bother,’ I replied drowsily1, ‘we pretended that yesterday; and it’s not my turn to be a Roundhead, anyhow.’ The fact is, I was lazy, and the call to arms fell on indifferent ears. We three younger ones were stretched at length in the orchard2. The sun was hot, the season merry June, and never (I thought) had there been such wealth and riot of buttercups throughout the lush grass. Green-and-gold was the dominant3 key that day. Instead of active ‘pretence’ with its shouts and its perspiration4, how much better—I held—to lie at ease and pretend to one’s self, in green and golden fancies, slipping the husk and passing, a careless lounger, through a sleepy imaginary world all[40] gold and green! But the persistent5 Harold was not to be fobbed off.
‘Well then,’ he began afresh, ‘let’s pretend we’re Knights6 of the Round Table; and (with a rush) I’ll be Lancelot!’
‘I won’t play unless I’m Lancelot,’ I said. I didn’t mean it really, but the game of Knights always began with this particular contest.
‘O please,’ implored8 Harold. ‘You know when Edward’s here I never get a chance of being Lancelot. I haven’t been Lancelot for weeks!’
Then I yielded gracefully9. ‘All right,’ I said. ‘I’ll be Tristram.’
‘O, but you can’t,’ cried Harold again. ‘Charlotte has always been Tristram. She won’t play unless she’s allowed to be Tristram! Be somebody else this time.’
Charlotte said nothing, but breathed hard, looking straight before her. The peerless hunter and harper was her special hero of romance, and rather than see the part in less appreciative10 hands, she would have gone back in tears to the stuffy11 schoolroom.
[41]
‘I don’t care,’ I said: ‘I’ll be anything. I’ll be Sir Kay. Come on!’
Then once more in this country’s story the mail-clad knights paced through the greenwood shaw, questing adventure, redressing12 wrong; and bandits, five to one, broke and fled discomfited13 to their caves. Once more were damsels rescued, dragons disembowelled, and giants, in every corner of the orchard, deprived of their already superfluous14 number of heads; while Palomides the Saracen waited for us by the well, and Sir Breuse Saunce Pité vanished in craven flight before the skilled spear that was his terror and his bane. Once more the lists were dight in Camelot, and all was gay with shimmer15 of silk and gold; the earth shook with thunder of hooves, ash-staves flew in splinters, and the firmament16 rang to the clash of sword on helm. The varying fortune of the day swung doubtful—now on this side, now on that; till at last Lancelot, grim and great, thrusting through the press, unhorsed Sir Tristram (an easy task), and bestrode her, threatening doom17; while the Cornish knight7, forgetting[42] hard-won fame of old, cried piteously, ‘You’re hurting me, I tell you! and you’re tearing my frock!’ Then it happed18 that Sir Kay, hurtling to the rescue, stopped short in his stride, catching19 sight suddenly, through apple-boughs, of a gleam of scarlet20 afar off; while the confused tramp of many horses, mingled21 with talk and laughter, was borne to the ears of his fellow-champions and himself.
‘What is it?’ inquired Tristram, sitting up and shaking out her curls; while Lancelot forsook22 the clanging lists and trotted23 nimbly to the boundary-hedge.
I stood spell-bound for a moment longer, and then, with a cry of ‘Soldiers!’ I was off to the hedge, Sir Tristram picking herself up and scurrying25 after us.
Down the road they came, two and two, at an easy walk; scarlet flamed in the eye, bits jingled26 and saddles squeaked27 delightfully28; while the men, in a halo of dust, smoked their short clays like the heroes they were. In a swirl29 of intoxicating30 glory the troop clinked and clattered31 by, while we shouted and waved, jumping[43] up and down, and the big jolly horsemen acknowledged the salute32 with easy condescension33. The moment they were past we were through the hedge and after them. Soldiers were not the common stuff of everyday life. There had been nothing like this since the winter before last, when on a certain afternoon—bare of leaf and monochromatic34 in its hue35 of sodden36 fallow and frost-nipt copse—suddenly the hounds had burst through the fence with their mellow37 cry, and all the paddock was for the minute reverberant38 of thudding hoof39 and dotted with glancing red. But this was better, since it could only mean that blows and bloodshed were in the air.
‘Is there going to be a battle?’ panted Harold, hardly able to keep up for excitement.
‘Of course there is,’ I replied. ‘We’re just in time. Come on!’
Perhaps I ought to have known better; and yet——? The pigs and poultry40, with whom we chiefly consorted41, could instruct us little concerning the peace that lapped in these latter days our seagirt realm. In the schoolroom[44] we were just now dallying42 with the Wars of the Roses; and did not legends of the country-side inform us how cavaliers had once galloped43 up and down these very lanes from their quarters in the village? Here, now, were soldiers unmistakable; and if their business was not fighting, what was it? Sniffing44 the joy of battle, we followed hard in their tracks.
‘Won’t Edward be sorry,’ puffed45 Harold, ‘that he’s begun that beastly Latin?’
It did, indeed, seem hard. Edward, the most martial46 spirit of us all, was drearily47 conjugating48 amo (of all verbs!) between four walls, while Selina, who ever thrilled ecstatic to a red coat, was struggling with the uncouth49 German tongue. ‘Age,’ I reflected, ‘carries its penalties.’
It was a grievous disappointment to us that the troop passed through the village unmolested. Every cottage, I pointed50 out to my companions, ought to have been loopholed, and strongly held. But no opposition51 was offered to the soldiers who, indeed, conducted themselves with a recklessness and a want of precaution that seemed simply criminal.
[45]
At the last cottage a transitory gleam of common sense flickered52 across me, and, turning on Charlotte, I sternly ordered her back. The small maiden53, docile54 but exceedingly dolorous55, dragged reluctant feet homewards, heavy at heart that she was to behold56 no stout57 fellows slain58 that day; but Harold and I held steadily59 on, expecting every instant to see the environing hedges crackle and spit forth60 the leaden death.
‘Will they be Indians?’ asked my brother (meaning the enemy) ‘or Roundheads, or what?’
I reflected. Harold always required direct straightforward61 answers—not faltering62 suppositions.
‘They won’t be Indians,’ I replied at last; ‘nor yet Roundheads. There haven’t been any Roundheads seen about here for a long time. They’ll be Frenchmen.’
Harold’s face fell. ‘All right,’ he said: ‘Frenchmen’ll do; but I did hope they’d be Indians.’
‘If they were going to be Indians,’ I explained, ‘I—I don’t think I’d go on. Because[46] when Indians take you prisoner they scalp you first, and then burn you at the stake. But Frenchmen don’t do that sort of thing.’
‘Are you quite sure?’ asked Harold doubtfully.
‘Quite,’ I replied. ‘Frenchmen only shut you up in a thing called the Bastille; and then you get a file sent in to you in a loaf of bread, and saw the bars through, and slide down a rope, and they all fire at you—but they don’t hit you—and you run down to the seashore as hard as you can, and swim off to a British frigate63, and there you are!’
Harold brightened up again. The programme was rather attractive. ‘If they try to take us prisoner,’ he said, ‘we—we won’t run, will we?’
Meanwhile, the craven foe64 was a long time showing himself; and we were reaching strange outland country, uncivilised, wherein lions might be expected to prowl at nightfall. I had a stitch in my side, and both Harold’s stockings had come down. Just as I was beginning to have gloomy doubts of the proverbial courage[47] of Frenchmen, the officer called out something, the men closed up, and, breaking into a trot24, the troops—already far ahead—vanished out of our sight. With a sinking at the heart, I began to suspect we had been fooled.
‘Are they charging?’ cried Harold, very weary, but rallying gamely.
‘I think not,’ I replied doubtfully. ‘When there’s going to be a charge, the officer always makes a speech, and then they draw their swords and the trumpets65 blow, and——but let’s try a short cut. We may catch them up yet.’
So we struck across the fields and into another road, and pounded down that, and then over more fields, panting, down-hearted, yet hoping for the best. The sun went in, and a thin drizzle66 began to fall; we were muddy, breathless, almost dead-beat; but we blundered on, till at last we struck a road more brutally67, more callously68 unfamiliar69 than any road I ever looked upon. Not a hint nor a sign of friendly direction or assistance on the dogged white face of it! There was no longer any disguising it: we were hopelessly lost. The small rain continued[48] steadily, the evening began to come on. Really there are moments when a fellow is justified70 in crying; and I would have cried too, if Harold had not been there. That right-minded child regarded an elder brother as a veritable god; and I could see that he felt himself as secure as if a whole Brigade of Guards had hedged him round with protecting bayonets. But I dreaded71 sore lest he should begin again with his questions.
As I gazed in dumb appeal on the face of unresponsive nature, the sound of nearing wheels sent a pulse of hope through my being: increasing to rapture72 as I recognised in the approaching vehicle the familiar carriage of the old doctor. If ever a god emerged from a machine, it was when this heaven-sent friend, recognising us, stopped and jumped out with a cheery hail. Harold rushed up to him at once. ‘Have you been there?’ he cried. ‘Was it a jolly fight? who beat? were there many people killed?’
The doctor appeared puzzled. I briefly73 explained the situation.
[49]
‘I see,’ said the doctor, looking grave and twisting his face this way and that. ‘Well, the fact is, there isn’t going to be any battle to-day. It’s been put off, on account of the change in the weather. You will have due notice of the renewal74 of hostilities75. And now you’d better jump in and I’ll drive you home. You’ve been running a fine rig! Why, you might have both been taken and shot as spies!’
This special danger had never even occurred to us. The thrill of it accentuated76 the cosy77 homelike feeling of the cushions we nestled into as we rolled homewards. The doctor beguiled78 the journey with blood-curdling narratives79 of personal adventure in the tented field, he having followed the profession of arms (so it seemed) in every quarter of the globe. Time, the destroyer of all things beautiful, subsequently revealed the baselessness of these legends; but what of that? There are higher things than truth; and we were almost reconciled, by the time we were put down at our gate, to the fact that the battle had been postponed80.
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1
drowsily
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| adv.睡地，懒洋洋地，昏昏欲睡地 | |
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2
orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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dominant
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| adj.支配的，统治的；占优势的；显性的；n.主因，要素，主要的人(或物)；显性基因 | |
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perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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6
knights
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| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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9
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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10
appreciative
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| adj.有鉴赏力的，有眼力的；感激的 | |
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11
stuffy
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| adj.不透气的，闷热的 | |
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12
redressing
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| v.改正( redress的现在分词 )；重加权衡；恢复平衡 | |
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13
discomfited
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| v.使为难( discomfit的过去式和过去分词)；使狼狈；使挫折；挫败 | |
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14
superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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15
shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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firmament
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| n.苍穹；最高层 | |
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doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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18
happed
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| v.偶然发生( hap的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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19
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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20
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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21
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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22
forsook
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| forsake的过去式 | |
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23
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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24
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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25
scurrying
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的现在分词 ) | |
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26
jingled
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| 喝醉的 | |
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27
squeaked
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| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的过去式和过去分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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delightfully
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| 大喜，欣然 | |
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swirl
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| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
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intoxicating
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| a. 醉人的,使人兴奋的 | |
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31
clattered
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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32
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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33
condescension
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| n.自以为高人一等，贬低(别人) | |
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34
monochromatic
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| adj.单色的，一色的 | |
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35
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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36
sodden
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| adj.浑身湿透的；v.使浸透；使呆头呆脑 | |
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mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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38
reverberant
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| a.起回声的 | |
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39
hoof
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| n.(马，牛等的)蹄 | |
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40
poultry
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| n.家禽，禽肉 | |
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41
consorted
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| v.结伴( consort的过去式和过去分词 )；交往；相称；调和 | |
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42
dallying
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| v.随随便便地对待( dally的现在分词 )；不很认真地考虑；浪费时间；调情 | |
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43
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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44
sniffing
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| n.探查法v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的现在分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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45
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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46
martial
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| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
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47
drearily
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| 沉寂地，厌倦地，可怕地 | |
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48
conjugating
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| vt.使结合（conjugate的现在分词形式） | |
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49
uncouth
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| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
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50
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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51
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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52
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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53
maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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54
docile
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| adj.驯服的，易控制的，容易教的 | |
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55
dolorous
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| adj.悲伤的；忧愁的 | |
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56
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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58
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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59
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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60
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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61
straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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62
faltering
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| 犹豫的，支吾的，蹒跚的 | |
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63
frigate
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| n.护航舰，大型驱逐舰 | |
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64
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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65
trumpets
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| 喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 )； 小号； 喇叭形物； （尤指）绽开的水仙花 | |
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66
drizzle
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| v.下毛毛雨；n.毛毛雨，蒙蒙细雨 | |
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67
brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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68
callously
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69
unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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70
justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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71
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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72
rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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73
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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74
renewal
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| adj.(契约)延期，续订，更新，复活，重来 | |
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75
hostilities
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| n.战争；敌意(hostility的复数)；敌对状态；战事 | |
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76
accentuated
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| v.重读( accentuate的过去式和过去分词 )；使突出；使恶化；加重音符号于 | |
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77
cosy
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| adj.温暖而舒适的，安逸的 | |
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78
beguiled
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| v.欺骗( beguile的过去式和过去分词 )；使陶醉；使高兴；消磨（时间等） | |
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narratives
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| 记叙文( narrative的名词复数 )； 故事； 叙述； 叙述部分 | |
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80
postponed
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| vt.& vi.延期，缓办，（使）延迟vt.把…放在次要地位；[语]把…放在后面（或句尾）vi.（疟疾等）延缓发作（或复发） | |
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