After dinner he kissed Susie and Jenny, gave them each a penny, and despatched them to play. Hand in hand they stamped away to Motcombe Garden with clacking heels, roguish backward glances and merry tongues.
Then he asked Ruth to go into the backyard. Left alone with Alice he lifted her on to the kitchen-table, took her hands in his, and looked gravely into her eyes.
"I trust you to look after mother and the little ones when I'm gone, Lal," he said.
The little maid, swift and sympathetic as her mother, nodded at him, nibbling1 her handkerchief, her heart too full for words. Then she raised her crumpled2 face, that at the moment was so like her mother's, for a last kiss, and as she wreathed her arms round his neck she whispered,
"You are my daddy, aren't you, daddy?"
"Of course I am," he murmured, and lifted her down.
She ran away swiftly, not trusting herself to look back.
A moment later Ruth entered the kitchen, slowly and with downcast eyes. He was standing3 before the fire, awaiting her.
"Ruth," he said quietly. "I've tried to do well by your child; I'll ask you to do the same by mine."
She came to him and hung about his neck, riven with sobs5, her head on his shoulder.
"O Ern!" she cried. "And is that your last word to me?"
She lifted anguished6 eyes to him and clung to him.
"I love them all just the same, only we been through so much together, she and me. That's where it is."
His arms were about her and he was stroking her.
"I knaw that then," he said, husky himself.
"See, they got you and each other and all the world," Ruth continued. "Little Alice got nobody only her mother."
"And me," said Ernie.
She steadied and drew her hand across rain-blurred7 eyes.
"Ern," she said, deeply. "I do thank you for all your lovin kindness to that child. I've never forgot that all through—whatever it seemed."
"She's mine just as well as yours," he answered, smiling and uncertain. "Always has been. Always will be."
She pressed her lips on his with a passion that amazed him.
Then he took the boy from the cot and rocked him. The tears poured down his face. This, then, was War!—All his light-heartedness, his detachment, had gone. He was a husband and a father torn brutally8 away from the warmth and tenderness of the home that was so dear to him, to be tossed into the arena9 among wild beasts who not long since had been men just like himself, and would be men still but for the evil power of their masters to do by them as his masters had done by him. Then he put the child back and turned to say good-bye to Ruth.
The passionate10 wife of a few minutes since had changed now into the mother parting from her schoolboy. She took him to her heart and hugged him.
"You'll be back before you know," she told him, cooing, comforting, laughing through her tears. "They all say it'll be over soon, whatever else. A great war like this ca'an't go on. Too much of it, like."
"Please God, so," said Ernie. "It's going to be the beginning of a new life for me—for you—for all of us, as Joe says.... God keep you till we meet again."
Then he walked swiftly down the street with swimming eyes.
The neighbours, who were all fond of Ern, stood in their doors and watched him solemnly.
He was going into IT.
Like as not they would never see him again.
Many of the women had handkerchieves to their lips, as they watched, and over the handkerchieves their eyes showed awed11. Some turned away, hands to their hearts. Others munched12 their aprons13 and wept. A mysterious rumour14 in the deeps of them warned them of the horror that had him and them and the world in its grip.
They could not understand, but they could feel.
And this working man with the uncertain mouth and blurred eyes—this man whose walk, whose speech, whose coal-grimed face, and the smell even of his tarry clothes, was so familiar to them—was the symbol of it all.
A big navvy came sheepishly out of the last house in the row and stopped him. It was the man who had insulted Ernie in the Star six months before.
"I ask your pardon, Ern," he said. "I didn't mean what I said."
Ern shook hands. Years before the two had been at school together under Mr. Pigott.
"It wasn't you, Reube," he said. "I knaw who spread the dung you rolled in."
"I shan't be caught again," replied the other. "That's a sure thing."
Ern jerked a thumb over his shoulder.
"Keep an eye to her!" he whispered.
"You may lay to it," the big man answered.
At the corner a young girl of perhaps fifteen ran out suddenly, flung herself into his arms, kissed him, with blind face lifted to the sky, and was gone again.
At the bottom of Borough15 Lane a troop of Boy-Scouts in slouch hats, knickers, and with staves, drawn16 up in order, saluted17. A tiny boy in his mother's arms blew him shy kisses. Just outside the yard of the Transport Company his mates, who had been waiting him, came out and shook him by the hand. Most were very quiet. As he passed on the man among them he disliked most called for three cheers. A ragged18 noise was raised behind him.
At the Star corner a beery patriot19, wearing the South African medals, mug to his lips, hailed him.
"Gor bless the Hammer-men!" he cried. "Gor bless the old ridgiment!" and tried to lure20 Ernie into the familiar bar-parlour.
"Not me, thank ye!" cried Ernie stoutly21. "This ain't a beano, my boy! This is War!"
As he rounded the corner he glanced up at the sturdy old church with its tiny extinguisher spire22, standing on the Kneb behind him, four-square to the centuries, the symbol of the rough and ready England which at that moment was passing away, with its glories and its shames, into the limbo23 of history.
At the station all that was most representative in Beachbourne had gathered to see the reservists off.
The Mayor was there in his chain of office; the Church Militant24 in the person of the Archdeacon; Mr. Glynde, the senior member for Beachbourne, middle-aged25, swarthy, his hair already white, making a marked contrast to his junior colleague, the fair-haired young giant, talking to the Archdeacon.
The old gentleman looked ghastly; his face colourless save for the shadows of death which emphasised his pallor. Then he saw Bobby Chislehurst busy among the departing soldiers, and beckoned27 him austerely29.
"I thought you were a pacifist, Chislehurst!" he said, his smile more kindly30 and less histrionic than usual.
"So I am, sir," answered Bobby, brightly. "But there are several of our men from the Moot31 going off. It's not their fault they've got to go, poor beggars!"
"Their fault!" cried the Archdeacon. "It's their privilege." He added less harshly, "We must all stand by the country now, Chislehurst."
"Yes, sir," said Bobby. "I shan't give the show away," and he bustled32 off.
Then the Colonel stalked up.
"Well, Archdeacon, what d'you make of it all?" he asked, curious as a child to gather impressions.
The Archdeacon drew himself up.
"Just retribution," he answered in voice that seemed to march. "If a nation will go a-whoring after false gods in the wilderness33 what can you expect? Gahd does not forget."
The Colonel listened blankly, his long neck elongated34 like a questing schoolboy.
"What you mean?" he asked.
"Welsh Disestablishment Bill," the other answered curtly35.
Mr. Trupp now entered the station, and the Colonel, who though quiet outwardly, was in a condition of intense spiritual exaltation that made him restless as dough36 in which the yeast37 is working, joined his pal26. He had cause for his emotion. The Cabinet had stood. The country had closed its ranks in a way that was little short of a miracle. All men of all parties had rallied to the flag. In Dublin the Irish mob which had provoked the King's Own Scottish Borderers to bloody38 retaliation39, had turned out and cheered the battalion40 as it marched down to the transports for embarkation41.
"Well, we're roused at last," said the Colonel, as he looked round on that humming scene.
"Yes," answered Mr. Trupp. "It's taken a bash in the face to do it though."
"Should be interesting," commented the Colonel, hiding his emotion behind an air of detachment. "An undisciplined horde42 of men who believe themselves to be free against a disciplined mass of slaves."
Just then Mr. Pigott approached. The old Nonconformist had about him the air of a boy coming up to the desk to take his punishment. He was at once austere28 and chastened.
"Well, Colonel," he said. "You were right."
The Colonel took the other's hand warmly.
"Not a bit of it!" he cried. "That's the one blessed thing about the whole situation. We've all been wrong. I believed in the German menace—till a month or two ago. And then...."
"That's it," said Mr. Trupp. "We must all swing together, and a good job too. If there's any hanging done Carson and Bonar Law, Asquith and Haldane, Ramsay Macdonald and Snowden ought to grace the same gallows43 seems to me. And when we've hanged our leaders for letting us in we must hang ourselves for allowing them to let us in."
The old surgeon had turned an awkward corner with the gruff tact44 peculiar45 to him; and Mr. Pigott at least was grateful to him.
"You've heard Carson's committed suicide?" he said. "Shot himself this morning on St. Stephen's Green."
"Not a bit of it," replied the Colonel. "He's far too busy holding up recruiting in Ulster while he haggles46 for his terms, to do anything so patriotic47."
"Besides why should he?" interposed a harsh and jeering48 voice. "Treason's all right if you're rich and powerful. Jim Larkin got six months a year ago for sedition49 and inciting50 to violence. What'll these chaps get for provoking the greatest war that ever was or will be? I'll tell ye, Fat jobs. Where'll they be at the end of the war? under the sod alongside the millions of innocent men who've had to pay the price of their mistakes? No fear! They'll be boolgin money, oozin smiles, fat with power, and big-bellied wi feedin on the carcases of better men."
It was Joe Burt who had come up with Mr. Geddes.
The Colonel, giving his shoulder to the engineer, turned to the tall minister, who was stiff, a little self-conscious, and very grave.
Possessed51 of a far deeper mind than Mr. Pigott, Mr. Geddes was still haunted by doubts. Were we wholly in the right?
The Colonel, intuitive as a girl, recognised the other's distress52, and guessed the cause of it.
"Well, Mr. Geddes," he said gently. "Evil has triumphed for the moment at least."
"Yes," replied the other. "Liebknecht's shot, they say."
"All honour to him!" said the Colonel. "He was the one man of the lot who stood to his guns when the pinch came. All the rest of the Social Democrats53 stampeded at the first shot."
Joe Burt edged up again. Like Mr. Pigott he had made his decision irrevocably and far sooner than the old Nonconformist; but there was a vengeful background still to his thoughts. He refused to forget.
"I hear the Generals are in uproarious spirits," he said.
"One of them," answered the Colonel quietly.
"They won't pay the price," continued Joe. "They'll make—trust them. There's the man they'll leave to take the punishment they've brought on the coontry." He nodded to Ernie who was busy with some mates extracting chocolates from a penny-in-the-slot-machine.
The Colonel's eye glittered. He had spied Stanley Bessemere doing, indeed over-doing, the hearty54 amongst the men by the barrier.
"After all it's nothing to what we owe our friend there and the politicians," he said brightly, and made towards his victim, with an almost mincing55 motion.
Since the declaration of war his solitary56 relief from intolerable anxieties had been baiting the junior member for the Borough. He left him no peace, hanging like a gadfly on his flank. At the club, in the street, on committees at the Town-hall there rose up to haunt the young man this inexorable spectre with the death's head, the courteous57 voice, and the glittering smile.
"Ah, Bessemere!" he said gently. "Here still!—I heard you had enlisted58, you and Smith."
The other broke away and, seeing Ernie close by, shook hands with him. The move was unfortunately countered by Joe Burt.
"You've shook 'ands with Mr. Caspar five times since I've been here," he remarked tartly59. "Can't you give somebody else a turn now?"
Just then, mercifully, Mr. Trupp rolled up, coughing.
Summer or winter made no difference to the great man's cold, which was always with him, and lovingly cherished; but he liked to mark the change between the two seasons by exchanging the long woollen muffler of winter for a silken wrapper in which he swaddled his neck in the summer months.
"Good luck, Ernie," he said in his brief way, his eyes shrewd and sweet behind his pince-nez.
"Keep an eye to Ruth, won't you, sir?" said Ernie in his most confidential60 manner.
"We'll do our best," replied the other hoarsely61. "Here's Mr. Pigott. Quite a jingo these days."
"Who isn't?" the old school-master answered with an attempt at the familiar truculence62. "Well, you look like it, Ern." He added almost with admiration63. "Quite a changed man."
Then the Colonel joined the little group.
"Coming along sir?" asked Ernie keenly.
"No luck," replied the other gloomily. "Too old at sixty... What about that brother of yours?"
Ern's face darkened.
"Ah, I ain't seen him," he said.
"There he is by the bookstall," muttered Mr. Pigott. "Envying the men who are going to fight his battles! I know him."
Alf, indeed, who had clearly recovered from the first shock of war, was very much to the fore4, modest, fervent64, the unassuming patriot. Now he approached his brother with a mixture of wariness65 and manly66 frankness.
"Will you shake 'ands, Ernest?" he asked.
"I will not," said Ern. "It was you who done the dirty on our Lal."
"Never!" cried Alf and came a step closer. "I'll tell you who it were." He nodded stealthily in the direction of Joe. "That's the chap that's out to spoil your home. Wrecker I call him. I tell you what, Ern," he whispered. "I'll watch out against him for you while you are away so you don't suffer."
"I thank you," said Ern, unmoved.
Just then Joe came up, took him by the arm, and bustled him off to the departure platform.
"You'll be late else, ma lad," said the engineer.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
nibbling
|
|
| v.啃，一点一点地咬（吃）( nibble的现在分词 )；啃出（洞），一点一点咬出（洞）；慢慢减少；小口咬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
crumpled
|
|
| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
fore
|
|
| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
sobs
|
|
| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
anguished
|
|
| adj.极其痛苦的v.使极度痛苦(anguish的过去式) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
blurred
|
|
| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
brutally
|
|
| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
arena
|
|
| n.竞技场，运动场所；竞争场所，舞台 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
passionate
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
awed
|
|
| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
munched
|
|
| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
aprons
|
|
| 围裙( apron的名词复数 )； 停机坪，台口（舞台幕前的部份） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
rumour
|
|
| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
borough
|
|
| n.享有自治权的市镇；(英)自治市镇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
saluted
|
|
| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
ragged
|
|
| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
patriot
|
|
| n.爱国者，爱国主义者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
lure
|
|
| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
stoutly
|
|
| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
spire
|
|
| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
limbo
|
|
| n.地狱的边缘；监狱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
militant
|
|
| adj.激进的，好斗的；n.激进分子，斗士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
middle-aged
|
|
| adj.中年的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
pal
|
|
| n.朋友，伙伴，同志；vi.结为友 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
beckoned
|
|
| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
austere
|
|
| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
austerely
|
|
| adv.严格地，朴质地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
moot
|
|
| v.提出；adj.未决议的；n.大会；辩论会 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
bustled
|
|
| 闹哄哄地忙乱，奔忙( bustle的过去式和过去分词 )； 催促 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
wilderness
|
|
| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
elongated
|
|
| v.延长，加长( elongate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
curtly
|
|
| adv.简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
dough
|
|
| n.生面团；钱，现款 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
yeast
|
|
| n.酵母；酵母片；泡沫；v.发酵；起泡沫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
bloody
|
|
| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
retaliation
|
|
| n.报复，反击 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
battalion
|
|
| n.营；部队；大队(的人) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
embarkation
|
|
| n. 乘船, 搭机, 开船 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
horde
|
|
| n.群众，一大群 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
gallows
|
|
| n.绞刑架，绞台 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
tact
|
|
| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
haggles
|
|
| n.讨价还价( haggle的名词复数 )v.讨价还价( haggle的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
patriotic
|
|
| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
jeering
|
|
| adj.嘲弄的，揶揄的v.嘲笑( jeer的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
sedition
|
|
| n.煽动叛乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
inciting
|
|
| 刺激的，煽动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
distress
|
|
| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
democrats
|
|
| n.民主主义者，民主人士( democrat的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
hearty
|
|
| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
mincing
|
|
| adj.矫饰的；v.切碎；切碎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
courteous
|
|
| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
enlisted
|
|
| adj.应募入伍的v.（使）入伍， （使）参军( enlist的过去式和过去分词 )；获得（帮助或支持） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
tartly
|
|
| adv.辛辣地，刻薄地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
confidential
|
|
| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
hoarsely
|
|
| adv.嘶哑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
truculence
|
|
| n.凶猛，粗暴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
fervent
|
|
| adj.热的，热烈的，热情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
wariness
|
|
| n. 注意,小心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
manly
|
|
| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |