The room was in the front of the house, and the shadow of the inn lay across the road, licking the bottom of the walls of the houses opposite. Above it they rose into a yellow glare of sunshine, and their roofs were bitten against a heavy blue sky. From quite near came the pleasant chink of iron, and craning his head he saw the daubed colours of a smith and wheelwright on a door a little further down the street. It comforted him to think that there should be a smith so near him, and all through his meal he listened to the clink and thud, with sometimes the clatter3 of new-shod hoofs5 in the road.
When he had finished his dinner and paid his shilling he went out and up beyond the shadow of the inn to the [309] smith’s door. The name of the hamlet was Lion’s Green, and he gathered he was some ten miles from home, beyond Horeham and Mystole. It would not take him more than a couple of hours to get back with his great stride, so there was time for him to linger and put off the evil hour when he must confront Mrs. Hubble and explain why he had been out all night. Meantime he would go and watch the smith.
There was no house opposite the forge, and the doorway6 was full of sunshine, which streamed into the red glare of the furnace. Mr. Sumption stood in the mixing light, a tall black figure, leaning against the doorpost. He had smoothed his creased7 and grass-stained clothes a little, and taken out the straws that had stuck in his hair, but he always looked ill-shaved at the best of times, and to-day his face was nearly swallowed up in his beard. The smith was working single-hand, and had no time to stare at his visitor. He wondered a little who he was, for though he wore black clothes like a minister, he was in other respects more like a tramp.
“Good afternoon,” said Mr. Sumption suddenly.
“Good afternoon,” said the smith, hesitating whether he should add “sir,” but deciding not to.
“You seem pretty busy.”
“Reckon I am—unaccountable busy. I’m aloan now—my man went last week. Thought I wur saafe wud a man of forty-eight, but now they raise the age limit to fifty, and off he goes into the Veterinary Corps8.”
“Shall I give you a hand?”
The smith stared.
“I’ve done a lot of smith’s work,” continued Mr. Sumption eagerly. “There’s nothing I can’t do with hoof4 and iron.”
The smith hesitated; then he saw the visitor’s arms as he took off his coat and began to roll up his sleeves.
[310]
“Well, maybe ... if you know aught ... there’s the liddle cob thur wants a shoe.”
A few men and boys were in the smithy, and they looked at each other and whispered a little. They had never seen such swingeing, hairy arms as Mr. Sumption’s.
A smile was fighting its way across the stubble on the minister’s face. He cracked his joints9 with satisfaction, and soon the little cob was shod by as quick, as merciful, and as sure a hand as had ever touched him. His owner looked surprised.
“I’d never taake you fur a smith,” he remarked; “leastways, not wud your coat on.”
“I’m not a smith. I’m a Minister of the Gospel.”
The men winked10 at each other and hid their mouths. Then one of them asked suddenly:
“Are you the Rev11. Mr. Sumption from Sunday Street?”
“Reckon I am. Do you know me?”
“I doan’t know you, surelye; but we’ve all heard as the minister of Sunday Street can shoe a horse wud any smith, and postwoman wur saying this marnun as he’d gone off nobody knows whur, after telling all his folk in a sermon as they’d started the War.”
Mr. Sumption looked uncomfortable.
“I only went for a bit of a tramp, and lost my way ... I’ve no call to be home before sundown—so, if you’ve any use for me, master, I can stop and give you a hand this afternoon.”
The smith was willing enough, for he was hard-pressed, and the fame of the Reverend Mr. Sumption had spread far beyond the country of the Four Roads. The strength of his great arms, his resource, his knowledge, his experience of all smithwork, made him an even more valuable assistant than the man who had gone. There was a market that day at Chiddingly, which meant more [311] work than usual, including several wheelwright’s jobs, which the smith performed himself, leaving the horses to Mr. Sumption. The furnace roared as the bellows12 gasped13, and lit up all the sag-roofed forge, with the dark shapes of men and horses standing14 round, and the minister holding down the red-hot iron among the coals or beating it on the anvil15, while his sweating skin was shiny and crimson16 in the glow.
It was like his dream of the forge at Bethersden—and he felt almost happy. The glow of his body seemed to reach his heart and warm it, and his head was no longer full of doubts like stones. He had found a refuge here, as he had found it in old days in Mus’ Bourner’s forge at Sunday Street—the heat, the roar, the flying sparks, the shaking crimson light, the smell of sweat and hoofs and horse-hide, the pleasant ache of labour in his limbs, were all part of the healing which had begun when he rubbed his cheek against the wet soil on the common. His religion had always taught him to look on his big friendly body as his enemy, to subdue17 and thwart18 and ignore it. He had not known till then how much it was his friend, and that there is such a thing as the Redemption of the Body, the mystic act through which the body saves and redeems19 the soul.
He worked on till the sun grew pale, and a tremulous primrose20 light crept over the fields of Lion’s Green, swamping the trees and hedges and grazing cows. The afternoon was passing into the evening, and Mr. Sumption knew he must start at once if he was to be home that day.
“Well, I’m middling sorry to lose you,” said the smith. “A man lik you’s wasted preaching the Gospel.”
“Reckon I shan’t do much more of that,” said Mr. Sumption wryly21. “I can’t go back to my Bethel, after [312] what’s happened.”
“Well, if ever you feel you’d lik to turn blacksmith fur a change——” the smith remarked, with a grin.
“I shall go into the Army Veterinary Corps,” said Mr. Sumption.
“Wot! Lik my man?”
“Like the man I was meant to be. I agree with you, master—I’m wasted preaching the Gospel. I’d be better as a veterinary ... I’ve been thinking....”
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1
landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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2
stuffy
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| adj.不透气的，闷热的 | |
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3
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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4
hoof
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| n.(马，牛等的)蹄 | |
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5
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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6
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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7
creased
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| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的过去式和过去分词 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹； 皱皱巴巴 | |
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8
corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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9
joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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10
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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11
rev
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| v.发动机旋转，加快速度 | |
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12
bellows
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| n.风箱；发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的名词复数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的第三人称单数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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13
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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14
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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15
anvil
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| n.铁钻 | |
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16
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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17
subdue
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| vt.制服，使顺从，征服；抑制，克制 | |
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thwart
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| v.阻挠，妨碍，反对；adj.横(断的) | |
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19
redeems
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| 补偿( redeem的第三人称单数 )； 实践； 解救； 使…免受责难 | |
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20
primrose
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| n.樱草，最佳部分， | |
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wryly
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| adv. 挖苦地，嘲弄地 | |
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