Glimmerings of the early autumn sunrise crept in through holes in the canvas. I raised myself cautiously and gazed at the woman who had cared for me. I call her a woman, for she seemed to me a woman then; she was about seventeen—little more than a girl. Her face was gentle and passionate4; her jet black hair streamed down in a torrent5 across her tawny6 throat and breast. She smiled in her sleep and murmured to herself; the arm which clasped Ruthita kept twitching7, as though to draw her nearer. While I watched, her eyes opened; she said nothing, but lay smiling up at me. Presently she put her free arm about my neck, and drew me down so my cheek rested against hers. She turned her head and I saw that, though she looked happy, there were tears on her long dark lashes8. Her lips moved and I knew what she wanted. Putting my arms about her, I kissed her good-morning.
Rousing Ruthita, she raised the flap of the tent and we slipped out. Mists were drifting across the woodland, pink and golden where the sunrise caught them, but lavender in the shadows. It was a quiet fairy world, like the face of a sleeping woman, which was pale with dew upon the forehead and copper9 and bronze with the streaming hair of faded foliage10. Outside the door the grass was blackened in a circle where a gipsy fire had burnt. The yellow caravan11 stood near. In and out the bracken rabbits were hopping12, nibbling14 at the cool green turf. The gipsy’s lurcher watched them, crouched15 with his nose between his paws, waiting his opportunity to steal closer. Lilith set about gathering16 brushwood for the fire and we helped her.
“Ruthie, am I taller?”
She eyed me judicially17 and shook her curls. “No. But p’raps we shall grow tall quite suddenly, when the honeymoon18 is ended.”
I was beginning to have my doubts of that, so I changed the subject. “Lilith has a baby. She carries it on her back.”
“Where does she keep it now?” asked Ruthita. “It wasn’t on her back last night in the tent.” Then she commenced to hop13 about like an eager, excited little bird. “I shall ask her. I shall ask her, Dante, and she’ll let me hold it.”
But when we ran to Lilith her back was straight and unbulgy. And when we asked her where she kept the baby, she dropped the bundle of sticks she was carrying and sank to her knees, with her hands pressed against her breast. She swayed to and fro, with her eyes closed, muttering in a strange language. Then she bent19 forward, kissing the ground and chanting words which sounded like, “Coroon! Coroon! Oh, dearie, come back. Come back!”
We heard the door of the caravan open. Lilith sprang to her feet and picked up her sticks as though ashamed of what she had been doing. The fierce man stood on the caravan steps. He strode across the grass to Lilith and laid his hand on her shoulder with a rough gesture which was almost kindly20. “The wind blows, sister,” he said, “and it sinks behind the moon. The flowers grow, sister, and they fall beneath the earth. Where they have gone there is rest.”
He passed on, whistling to his lurcher. The gaudily21 dressed woman came out; while he was gone, the fire was kindled22 and breakfast was prepared.
During breakfast a great discussion arose in their strange language. When it was ended, Lilith took us with her into the tent. She closed the flap carefully and began to undress us. While she was doing it she explained matters. She told us that the man was too busy just now with the cocoa-nut-shies to spare time to go and fetch my uncle to us. In a few days he would go, but meanwhile we must stay with them in camp. She said that they were good gipsies, but no one would believe it if they saw us with them. They would have to make us like gipsy children so no one would suspect. So she daubed our bodies all over a light brown color, and she stained my hair because it was flaxen. Then she gave us ragged23 clothes, without shoes or stockings, and dug a hole in the ground and hid ours. She was curious to know what had brought us to the forest; but we would not tell. We had the child’s feeling that telling a grown-up would break the spell—we should never be married then, the little house would never be built, and none of the other pleasant things would happen. We should have to go back to the garden again and live always within walls.
Those days spent in our first dash for freedom stand out in my memory as among the happiest. I ate of the forbidden fruit of romance and reaped no penalties. Ruth-ita cried at times for her mother; but I had only to remind her of the babies, she would have, and her courage returned.
The smell of the camp-fire is in my nostrils24 as I write; I can feel again the cool nakedness of unpaved woodlands beneath my feet and open skies above my head. I see Ruthita unsubdued and bare-legged, plunging25 shoulder-high into golden bracken, shouting with natural gladness, followed by the gipsy boys and girls. We tasted life in its fullness for the first time, she and I, on that fantastic honeymoon of ours. We felt in our bones and flesh the simple ecstasy26 of being alive—the wide, sweet cleanness of the open world. And remembering, I wonder now, as I wondered then, why men have toiled27 to learn everything except to be happy, and have labored28 with so much heaviness to build cities when the tent and the camp-fire might be theirs.
Books, schoolmasters, and universities have taught me much since then. They have spattered the windows of my soul with knowledge to prevent my looking out. Luckily I discovered what they were doing and stopped the rascals29. But I knew more things that were essentially30 godlike before they commenced their work. The major part of what they taught me was a weariness to the flesh in the learning, and a burden to the brain when learnt. Of how many days of shouting and sunshine they robbed me with their mistaken kindness. Of what worth is a Euclid problem at forty, when compared with the memory of a childhood’s day of flowers, and meadows, and happiness?
For twenty years my father sat prisoner at a desk, unbeautifully and doggedly31 driving his pen across countless32 pages that he might be able to buy me wisdom. With all his years of sacrifice and my years of laborious33 study, he gave me nothing which was half so valuable as that which a boy of nine stole for himself in his ignorance in the forest. There I learnt that the sound of wind in trees is the finest music in the world; that the power to feel in one’s own body the wholesome34 beauties of nature is more rewarding than wealth; that to know how to abandon oneself to the simple kindness of living people is a wiser knowledge than all the elaborate and codified35 wisdom of the dead.
We roamed the countryside with Lilith by day, listening to her telling fortunes. By night we slept in her arms in the tent. Only one thing was forbidden us—to speak with strangers. But there was one man who recognized us in spite of that. It was on the first morning. We were sitting by the side of the road with the fierce man; he was showing us how to make a snare36 for a rabbit. We were so interested that we did not notice a flock of sheep approaching until they were quite close. Then I looked up and caught the eye of old Dot-and-Carry One burning in his head, glaring out at us as if it would fly from its socket37. He would have spoken had he dared, but just then the fierce man saw him. He sank his chin upon his breast and, for all that he was “a human, made in Gawd’s h’image,” limped away into the distance in a cloud of dust, as meekly38 sheepish as any of the sheep he followed.
Ruthita spent a lot of her time in searching for Lilith’s baby. She wanted so badly to hold it. We felt quite certain that she had hidden it somewhere, as she had our clothes. Even if it was a dead’un, it was absurd to suppose that a person so clever as to tell fortunes should not know where it might be found. We determined39 to watch her. We thought that if her baby was really dead and she went to it by stealth, then by following her we should be able to find my mother and, perhaps, Ruthita’s father. Ruthita had already abandoned the dread40 that Dot-and-Carry-One had had anything to do with her entrance into the world.
Naphtha-lamps were extinguished. The crowd of merrymakers had departed. I was roused by Lilith stirring. Very gently she eased her arm from under me. I kept my eyes tightly shut and feigned41 that I was undisturbed. Cautiously she pulled aside the flap of the tent and stole out. I rose to my feet when she had gone. Ruthita was sleeping soundly, her small face cushioned in her hand. Without waking her I followed.
Near to the caravan the camp-fire smoldered42, making a splash of red like a pool of blood in the blackness. As I watched, it was momentarily blotted43 out by a moving shadow. The lurcher shook himself and growled44. Lilith’s voice reached me, telling him to lie down. A bank of cloud lay across the moon, but I knew the way she went by the rustle45 of the fallen leaves, turning beneath her tread. I followed her down the glades46 of the forest, peering after her, glancing behind me at the slightest sound, timid lest I might lose her, timid lest I might lose myself, stealing on tiptoe into the unknown with sobbing47, stifled48 breath. The ground began to descend49 into a hollow at the bottom of which a pond lay black and sullen50. A tall beech51 stood at its edge, spreading out its branches and leaning across it as if to hide it. The leaves beneath her footsteps ceased to stir.
When I could no longer hear her, a horrible, choking sense of solitude52 took hold of me. What if she had entered into the tree and should never return? Without her, how should I find my way back? I crept as near the pond as I dared, and crouched among the dead leaves, trembling. The water began to splash. “Someone,” I thought, “is rising out of it.” Little waves, washing in the rushes, caused the brittle53 reeds to shake and shiver, whispering in terror among themselves. A low sing-song muttering commenced. It came from the middle of the pond. I tried to stop breathing. It seemed quite possible that the baby was hidden there.
The bank of cloud trailed across the sky. The yellow harvest moon dipped, broad and smiling, into the latticework of boughs54 which roofed the dell.
In the middle of the pond, knee-deep, Lilith stood. She had cast aside her Romany rags and rose from the water tall and splendid. Her tawny body was a gold statue glistening55 beneath the moon. Her night-black hair fell sheer from her shoulders like a silken shadow. She was bending forward, peering eagerly beneath the water’s surface, whispering hurried love-words. Of all that she said I could only catch the words, “Coroon. Coroon. Come back, little dearest. Come back.” She laughed gladly and held out her arms, as though there drifted up towards her that which she sought. I could see nothing, for her back was towards me. Still lower she bent till her lips kissed the water’s surface; plunging her arms in elbow-deep, she seemed to support the thing which she saw there.
“Lilith, oh Lilith!” I cried.
She started and turned. I feared she was going to be angry. “Show me my Mama,” I whispered.
She put her finger to her lips, and beckoned56, and nodded.
Hastily I undressed, tossing my rags beside hers. I waded57 out to where she was standing58. The night air was chilly59. She gave me her hand and drew me to her. Placing me before her, so that I could gaze into the pond like a mirror, she chanted over and over a low, wild tune1. She peered above my shoulders. At first I could see only my own reflection and hers. Then, as she sang, the water moved, the inky blackness reddened; I forgot everything, the cold, Lilith, my terror, and lived only in that which was coming.
In the bottom of the pool, infinitely60 distant, a picture grew. It came so near that I thought it would touch me; I became a part of it. I saw my mother. She was seated by a fire in an unlighted room. A little boy lay in her lap with his arms about her. She glanced up at me smiling faintly, gazing into my eyes directly. For a moment I saw her distinctly, and caught again the fragrance61 of violets that clung about her. The water rippled62 and the vision died away in smoke and cloud. Lilith gathered me to her cold wet breast and carried me to the shore and dressed me. Without knowing why, I knew that this was a happening that I must not tell.
We returned to camp. Woods were stirring. Shadows were thinning. Dawn was breaking. The coldness in the air became intense. We threw branches on the fire and blew the smoldering63 embers, till sparks began to fly and twigs64 to crackle. Lilith sat with me in her arms, and hushed and mothered me. I was not ashamed; for five years I had wanted just that. I was glad that she understood. Ruthita could not see me; nobody but the dawn would ever know. So I fell asleep and went back to the fragrance of violets, the fire, and the cosy65 darkened room.
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1
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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caravan
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| n.大蓬车；活动房屋 | |
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12
hopping
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| n. 跳跃 动词hop的现在分词形式 | |
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13
hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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14
nibbling
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| 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 | |
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15
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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judicially
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| 依法判决地，公平地 | |
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honeymoon
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| n.蜜月（假期）；vi.度蜜月 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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20
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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gaudily
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| adv.俗丽地 | |
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kindled
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| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
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23
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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25
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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26
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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27
toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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28
labored
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| adj.吃力的，谨慎的v.努力争取(for)( labor的过去式和过去分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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29
rascals
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| 流氓( rascal的名词复数 )； 无赖； （开玩笑说法）淘气的人（尤指小孩）； 恶作剧的人 | |
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30
essentially
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| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
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doggedly
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| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
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32
countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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33
laborious
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| adj.吃力的，努力的，不流畅 | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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35
codified
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| v.把（法律）编成法典( codify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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36
snare
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| n.陷阱，诱惑，圈套；（去除息肉或者肿瘤的）勒除器；响弦，小军鼓；vt.以陷阱捕获，诱惑 | |
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37
socket
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| n.窝，穴，孔，插座，插口 | |
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38
meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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39
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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40
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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41
feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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42
smoldered
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| v.用文火焖烧，熏烧，慢燃( smolder的过去式 ) | |
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43
blotted
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| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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44
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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45
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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46
glades
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| n.林中空地( glade的名词复数 ) | |
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47
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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48
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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49
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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50
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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51
beech
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| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
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52
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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53
brittle
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| adj.易碎的；脆弱的；冷淡的；(声音)尖利的 | |
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54
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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55
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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56
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
waded
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| （从水、泥等）蹚，走过，跋( wade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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58
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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59
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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60
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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61
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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62
rippled
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| 使泛起涟漪（ripple的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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63
smoldering
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| v.用文火焖烧，熏烧，慢燃( smolder的现在分词 ) | |
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64
twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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cosy
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| adj.温暖而舒适的，安逸的 | |
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