On the very day after the parade of insurrectionaries in Belfast a famous Irishman, soldier, sailor, statesman, man of letters, who in his young manhood had served throughout the long-drawn3 South African War the Empire which had refused liberty to his country alone of all her Colonies, and in the days to come, though now in his graying years, was to be the hero of one of the most desperate ventures of the Great War, ran the little Asgarde, her womb heavy with strange fruit, into Howth Harbour while the Sunday bells peeled across the quiet waters, calling to church.
The arms were landed and marched under Nationalist escort towards Dublin. The police and a company of King's Own Scottish Borderers met the party and blocked the way. After a parley5 the Nationalists dispersed6 and the soldiers marched back to Dublin through a hostile demonstration7. Mobbed, pelted8, provoked to the last degree, at Bachelor's Walk, on the quay9, where owing to the threatening attitude of the crowd they had been halted, the men took the law into their own hands and fired without the order of their officer. Three people were killed.
The incident led to the first quarrel that had taken place between Ernie and Joe Burt in a friendship now of some years standing10.
"Massacre11 by the military," said Joe. "That's what it is."
The old soldier in Ernie leapt to the alert.
"Well, what would you have had em do?" he cried hotly. "Lay down and let emselves be kicked to death?"
"If the soldiers want to shoot at all let em shoot the armed rebels," retorted Joe.
"Let em shoot the lot, I says," answered Ernie. "I'm sick of it. Ireland! Ireland! Ireland all the time. No one's no time to think of poor old England. Yet we've our troubles too, I reck'n."
Joe went out surlily without saying good-night. When he was gone, Ruth who had been listening, looked up at Ernie, a faint glow of amusement, interest, surprise, in her eyes.
"First time ever I knaw'd you and Joe get acrarst each other," she said.
Ernie, biting home on his pipe, did not meet her gaze.
"First," he said. "Not the last, may be."
She put down dish-cloth and dish, came to him, and put her hand on his shoulder.
"Let me look at you, Ern!"
His jaw12 was set, almost formidable: he did not speak.
"Kiss me, Ern," she said.
For a moment his eyes hovered13 on her face.
"D'you mean anything?" he asked.
"Not that," she answered and dropped her hand.
"Then to hell with you!" he cried with a kind of desperate savagery14 and thrust her brutally15 away. "Sporting with a man!"
He put on his cap and went out.
In a few minutes he was back. Paying no heed16 to her, he sat down at the kitchen-table and wrote a note, which he put on the mantel-piece.
"You can give this to Alf next time he comes round for the rent," he said.
"What is it?" asked Ruth.
"Notice," Ern answered. "We're going to shift to the Colonel's garage."
Ruth gave battle instantly.
"Who are?" she cried, facing him.
He met her like a hedge of bayonets.
"I am," he answered. "Me and my children."
The volley fired on Bachelor's Walk, as it echoed down the long valleys of the world, seemed to serve the purpose of Joshua's trumpet17. Thereafter all the walls of civilisation18 began to crash down one after another with the roar of ruined firmaments.
Forty-eight hours later Austria declared war.
On Thursday Mr. Asquith, speaking in a crowded and quiet house, proposed the postponement19 of the Home Rule Bill.
Even the hotheads were sober now.
Stanley Bessemere discarded his uniform of an Ulster Volunteer in haste, and turned up at the club in chastened mood. He was blatant21 still, a little furtive22, notably23 less truculent24. The martial25 refrain Smith and I had given place to the dulcet26 coo We must all pull together.
"Is he ashamed?" Mrs. Lewknor asked her husband, hushed herself, and perhaps a little guilty.
"My dear," the Colonel replied. "Shame is not a word known to your politician. He's thoroughly27 frightened. All the politicians are. There're bluffing28 for all they're worth."
On the Saturday morning the Colonel went to the club. The junior member for Beachbourne, who was there, and for once uncertain of himself, showed himself childishly anxious to forget and forgive.
"Now look here, Colonel!" he said, charming and bright. "If there's an almighty29 bust-up now, shall you really blame it all on Ulster? Honest Injun!"
The Colonel met him with cold flippancy30.
"Every little helps," he said. "A whisper'll start an avalanche, as any mountaineer could tell you."
He took up the Nation of August 1st and began to read the editor's impassioned appeal to the country to stand out. The Colonel read the article twice over. There could be no question of the white-hot sincerity31 of the writer, and none that he voiced the sentiments of an immense and honest section of the country.
He put the paper down and walked home.
"If we don't go in," he said calmly to his wife at luncheon32, "all I can say is, that I shall turn my back on England for ever and go and hide my head for the rest of my days on the borders of Thibet."
In those last days of peace good men and true agonised in their various ways. Few suffered more than the Colonel; none but his wife knew the agony of his doubt.
Then Mr. Trupp telephoned to say that Germany had sent an ultimatum33 to Russia, and that France was mobilising. Mr. Cambon had interviewed the King. The Government was still wavering.
The Colonel's course was evident. The little organisation34 for which he was responsible must express itself, if only in the shrill35 sharp voice of a mosquito. A meeting of the League must be convened36. Tingling37 with hope, doubt, fear, shame, he set off in the evening to interview Alfred Caspar. Swiftly he crossed the golf-links and turned into Saffrons Croft. There he paused.
It was one of those unforgettable evenings magnificently calm, which marked with triumphant38 irony39 the end of the world. The green park with its cluster of elms presented its usual appearance on a Saturday afternoon. The honest thump40 of the ball upon the bat, so dear to English hearts, resounded41 on every side: the following cry—Run it out! the groups of youths sprawling42 about the scorers, the lounging spectators. Not a rumour43 of the coming storm had touched those serene44 hearts. Close to him a bevy45 of women and children were playing a kind of rounders. The batter46 was a big young woman whom he recognised at once as Ruth.
One of the the fielders was little Alice scudding47 about the surface of green on thin black legs like a water-beetle on a pond. Then Ernie saw him and came sauntering towards him, a child clinging solemnly to one finger of each hand. There was an air of strain about the old Hammer-man, as of one waiting on the alert for a call, that distinguished48 him, so the Colonel thought, from the gay throng49.
"What about it, sir?" he asked gravely.
"It's coming, Caspar," the Colonel answered. "That's my belief."
"And I shan't be sorry if it does," said Ernie with a quiet vindictiveness50.
"Shall you go?" asked the Colonel. He knew the other's time as a reservist was up.
"Sha'n't I?" Ernie answered with something like a snort.
The Colonel was not deceived. It was not the patriot51, not the old soldier, who had uttered that cry of distress52: it was the human being, bruised53 and suffering, and anxious to vent4 his pain in violence on something or somebody, no matter much who.
"Yes, sir, I shall go, if it's only as cook in the Army Service Corps54."
The Colonel shook his head.
"If it comes," he said, "every fighting man'll be wanted in his right place. Would you like to rejoin the old battalion55 at Aldershot, if I can work it for you? Then you'd go out with the Expeditionary Force."
Ernie's eyes gleamed.
"Ah, just wouldn't I?" he said.
Just then there was a shout from the players. Ruth was out and retired56. She came towards them, glowing, laughing, her fingers touching57 her hair to order. She was thirty now, but at that moment she did not look twenty-five. Then she saw the Colonel and deliberately58 turned away. Susie and Jenny pursued their mother.
The Colonel walked off through the groups of white-clad players towards Alf's garage in the Goffs. A tall man was standing at the gate on to Southfields Road, contemplating59 the English scene with austere60 gaze.
It was Royal—the man who would know.
"You think it's going to be all right?" asked the Colonel so keen as to forget his antipathy61.
"Heaven only knows with this Government," the other replied. "I've just been on the telephone. Haldane's going back to the War Office, they say."
"Thank God for it!" cried the Colonel.
His companion shrugged62.
"Henry Wilson's in touch with Maxse and the Conservative press," he said. "He's getting at the Opposition63. There's to be a meeting at Lansdowne House to-night. H.W.'s going to ginger64 em."
The Colonel looked away.
"And what are you doing down here?" he asked.
"They sent me down to Newhaven last night—embarkation. I'm off in two minutes." He jerked his head towards a racing65 car standing outside the garage, white with dust. "Got to catch the 7 o'clock at Lewes, and be back at the War Office at 9 p.m. An all-night sitting, I expect." That austere gaze of his returned to the playing-fields. "Little they know what they're in for," he said, as though to himself.
For the first time the Colonel found something admirable, almost comforting, in the hardness of his old adjutant. He followed the other's gaze and then said quietly, almost tenderly, as one breathing a secret in the ear of a dying man.
"That's the child, Royal—that one in the white frock and black legs running over by the elms. And that's her mother in the brown dress—the one waving. And there's her husband under the trees—that shabby feller."
Royal arched his fine eyebrows66 in faint surprise.
"Is she married?" he asked coolly.
"Yes," replied the Colonel. "The feller who seduced67 her wouldn't do the straight thing by her."
Again the eyebrows spoke68, this time with an added touch of sarcasm69, almost of insolence70.
"How d'you know?"
The Colonel was roused.
"Well, did you?" he asked, with rare brutality71.
Royal shrugged. Then he turned slow and sombre eyes on the other. There was no anger in them, no hostility72.
"Perhaps I shall make it up to them now, Colonel," he said....
The Colonel crossed the road to the garage. There was a stir of busyness about two of the new motor char-a-bancs of the Touring Syndicate. Alf was moving amid it all in his shirt-sleeves, without collar or tie, his hands filthy73. His moustache still waxed, and his hair parted down the middle and plastered, made an almost comic contrast to the rest of his appearance. But there was nothing comic about his expression. He looked like a dog sickening for rabies; ominous74, surly, on the snarl75. He did not seem to see the Colonel, who tackled him at once, however, about the need for summoning a meeting of the League.
"Summon it yourself then," said Alf. "I got something better to do than that. Such an idea! Coming botherin me just now. Start on Monday. Ruin starin me in the face. Who wants war? Might ha done it on purpose to do me down."
The Colonel climbed the hill to the Manor-house to sup with the Trupps.
Two hours later, as he left the house, Ernie Caspar turned the corner of Borough76 Lane, and came towards him, lost in dreams. The Colonel waited for him. There was about the old Hammer-man that quality of forlornness which the Colonel had noted77 in him so often of late. He took his place by the other's side. They walked down the hill together silently until they were clear of the houses, and Saffrons Croft lay broad-spread and fragrant78 upon their right.
In the growing dusk the spirits of the two men drew together. Then Ernie spoke.
"It's not Joe, sir," he said. "He's all right, Joe is."
The Colonel did not fence.
"Are you sure?" he asked with quiet emphasis.
"Certain sure," the other answered with astonishing vehemence79. "It's Ruth. She won't give me ne'er a chance."
The Colonel touched him in the dusk.
"Bad luck," he muttered. "She'll come round."
It was an hour later and quite dark when he rounded the shoulder of Beau-nez and turned into the great coombe, lit only by the windows of his own house shining out against Beau-nez.
Walking briskly along the cliff, turning over eternally the question whether England would be true to herself, he was aware of somebody stumbling towards him, talking to himself, probably drunk. The Colonel drew aside off the chalk-blazed path to let the other pass.
"A don't know justly what to make on't," came a broad familiar accent.
"Why, it's fight or run away," replied the Colonel, briskly. "No two twos about it."
A sturdy figure loomed80 up alongside him.
"Then it's best run away, A reckon," answered the other, "afore worse comes on't. What d'you say, Colonel?"
The darkness drew the two men together with invisible bonds just as an hour before it had drawn the Colonel and Ernie.
"What is it, Burt?" asked the Colonel, gently.
He felt profoundly the need of this other human being standing over against him in the darkness, lonely, suffering, riven with conflicting desires.
Joe drew closer. He was sighing, a sigh that was almost a sob20. Then he spoke in the hushed and urgent mutter of a schoolboy making a confession81.
"It's this, Colonel—man to man. Hast ever been in love with a woman as you oughtn't to be?"
Not for the first time in these last months there was strong upon the Colonel the sense that here before him was an honest man struggling in the toils82 prepared for him by Nature—the Lion with no mouse to gnaw83 him free. Yet he was aware more strongly than ever before of that deep barrier of class which in this fundamental matter of sex makes itself more acutely felt than in any other. A man of quite unusual breadth of view, imagination, and sympathy, this was the one topic that some inner spirit of delicacy84 had always forbidden him to discuss except with his own kind. He was torn in two; and grateful to the kindly85 darkness that covered him. On the one hand were all the inhibitions imposed upon him by both natural delicacy and artificial yet real class-restraint; on the other there was his desire to help a man he genuinely liked. Should he take the line of least resistance, the line of the snob86 and the coward? Was it really the fact that because this man was not a gentleman he could not lay bare before him an experience that might save him?
"Yes," he said at last with the emphasis of the man who is forcing himself.
There was a lengthy87 silence.
"Were you married?"
"No," abruptly88. "Of course not."
"Was she?"
"Yes."
"What happened?"
"She wired me to come—in India—years ago."
"Did you go?"
"No—thank God." The honest man in him added: "I never got the wire."
Again there was a pause.
"Are you glad?"
"Yes."
"Had she children."
"No."
The engineer breathed deep.
"Ah," he said. "I'd ha gone."
"Then you'd have done wrong."
"Happen so," stubbornly. "I'd ha gone though—knowing what I know now."
"What's that?"
"What loov is."
The Colonel paused.
"She'd never have forgiven you," he said at last.
"What for?"
"For taking advantage of her hot fit."
The arrow shot in the dark had clearly gone home. The Colonel followed up his advantage.
"Is she in love with you?"
"She's never said so."
"But you think so?"
"Nay89, A don't think so," the other answered with all the old violence. "A know it. A've nobbut to reach out ma hand to pluck the flower."
His egotism annoyed the Colonel.
"Seems to me," he said, "we shall all of us soon have something better to do than running round after each other's wives. Seen the evening paper?"
"Nay, nor the morning for that matter."
"And you a politician!"
"A'm two men—same as most: politician and lover. Now one's a-top; now t'other. It's a see-saw."
"And the lover's on top now?" said the Colonel.
"Yes," said the engineer, "and like to stay there too—blast him!" And he was gone in the darkness.
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1
avalanche
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| n.雪崩，大量涌来 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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parley
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| n.谈判 | |
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dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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pelted
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| （连续地）投掷( pelt的过去式和过去分词 )； 连续抨击； 攻击； 剥去…的皮 | |
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quay
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| n.码头，靠岸处 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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massacre
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| n.残杀，大屠杀；v.残杀，集体屠杀 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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savagery
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| n.野性 | |
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brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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postponement
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| n.推迟 | |
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sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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blatant
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| adj.厚颜无耻的；显眼的；炫耀的 | |
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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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notably
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| adv.值得注意地，显著地，尤其地，特别地 | |
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truculent
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| adj.野蛮的，粗野的 | |
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martial
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| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
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dulcet
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| adj.悦耳的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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bluffing
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| n. 威吓，唬人 动词bluff的现在分词形式 | |
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almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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flippancy
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| n.轻率；浮躁；无礼的行动 | |
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sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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ultimatum
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| n.最后通牒 | |
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organisation
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| n.组织，安排，团体，有机休 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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convened
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| 召开( convene的过去式 )； 召集； （为正式会议而）聚集； 集合 | |
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tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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thump
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| v.重击，砰然地响；n.重击，重击声 | |
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resounded
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| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
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sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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bevy
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| n.一群 | |
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batter
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| v.接连重击；磨损；n.牛奶面糊；击球员 | |
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scudding
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| n.刮面v.（尤指船、舰或云彩）笔直、高速而平稳地移动( scud的现在分词 ) | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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vindictiveness
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| 恶毒；怀恨在心 | |
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patriot
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| n.爱国者，爱国主义者 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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battalion
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| n.营；部队；大队(的人) | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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austere
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| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
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antipathy
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| n.憎恶；反感，引起反感的人或事物 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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ginger
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| n.姜，精力，淡赤黄色；adj.淡赤黄色的；vt.使活泼，使有生气 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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seduced
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| 诱奸( seduce的过去式和过去分词 )； 勾引； 诱使堕落； 使入迷 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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71
brutality
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| n.野蛮的行为，残忍，野蛮 | |
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hostility
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| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
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filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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snarl
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| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
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borough
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| n.享有自治权的市镇；(英)自治市镇 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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toils
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| 网 | |
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gnaw
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| v.不断地啃、咬；使苦恼，折磨 | |
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delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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85
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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86
snob
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| n.势利小人，自以为高雅、有学问的人 | |
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lengthy
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| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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