In the back of my mind I was hoping Eric's complaint of cold was an excuse. If my first impression had been right, if he had something to tell me, he would tell it better indoors. I should hear it better, sitting beside him.
He drew up before the ungenerous little fire and began at once to speak with suppressed excitement of a "secret."
"——the sort of thing that—well, I wouldn't trust my own brother with it." And upon that he stopped short.
I did not say: "You can trust me." But I hardly breathed in the pause. I felt it all hung on whether he told me. What hung? Why, everything—whether life was going to be kind to[Pg 216] me some day ... whether it was well or ill that I had been born.
He seemed to be content with having told me there was a secret. For he changed the subject abruptly3 to the Bungalow4, and what an adept5 Bootle was at inoculation6 and the preparation of cultures. Bootle possessed7 the great and glorious faculty8 of accuracy! One of the few men on earth whose account of a thing did not need to be checked.
Sitting over the fire that morning, Eric told me that the Bungalow was a laboratory. Very important work had been done there last autumn. (So that was why he had stayed on!) "Tentative but highly significant results" had been arrived at—results which all these months of contest and putting to proof, in London and on the Continent, had not been able to upset.
"Gods!" Eric exclaimed, with a startling vehemence9. But this was a glorious place to work in! The best air in England! And the Bungalow had been an inspiration from on high! Far away from noise and interruption; and not merely for a few paltry10 hours. Great stretches of time to himself! Then you were so fit here.[Pg 217] You slept. You had all your wits about you. As we knew, it was Hawkins's idea in the first place—that Eric should come down and rest. Well, now I was to hear something more about Hawkins. Hawkins was a kind of mascot11. He not only was the best man they'd ever had in that chair at the University. He wasn't only a first-rate bacteriologist, and first-rate all-round man. There was something about Hawkins that struck fire out of other people. His rooms were a meeting-place for chaps keen about—well, about the things that matter. Hawkins gave a dinner at his club one night to some London University men and a couple of distinguished12 foreigners.
"Of course, we talked shop. We argued and stirred one another up, and the sparks flew. When the rest had gone Hawkins and I stayed talking in the smoking-room. About an idea"—Eric looked round to see that the door was shut—"a new idea I was working at for dealing13 with cancer."
"Dealing!" I echoed, leaning forward. "You mean curing?"
"——I told Hawkins about an experiment I'd been making. As I've said, Hawkins is very intelligent.[Pg 218] But he contested my conclusions. I grew hot. We argued. I told him more and more. Hawkins thought my experiments too rough-and-ready. Even if they weren't rough-and-ready, to be conclusive14 they must be tried on an extended scale. I stood up for the validity of tests, on a small scale, done with an infinity15 of care—a ruthless spending of the investigator16 rather than multiplication17 of the subject. All the same, I couldn't deny that precious time was being wasted and many lives. Hawkins was right. I did need a trained staff, and I needed—oh, masses of things I had not got, and had no prospect18 of getting. We had tried the forlorn hope of a Government grant—and failed. We agreed that, in working out an idea like mine, the crucial danger lay in premature19 publicity20. We are in a cleft21 stick in these matters. Without the right people knowing, believing, helping22, it is hard—pretty nearly impossible—to go forward. I sat, rather dejected, and stared at the fire. The smoking-room had been empty except for a little, dried-up old man, who was half asleep over the evening papers. A few minutes after Hawkins had gone out to pay his bill, the little old man waked up[Pg 219] and went to a writing-table. In a half-minute or so I looked round, and he was standing23 quite near me, warming his back at the fire.
"'I've been eavesdropping,' he said. Lord! I was scared. How much had I given away? 'I don't know anything about this subject,' he said. 'But I've an idea you do. Anyhow, I'm willing to gamble on it. My name's Pearmain,' he said, and he showed me the signature on a cheque. 'A thousand pounds to start you.' He laid the cheque down on the little table among the matches and cigar-ends. 'You can let me know when you need more,' he said. He fished a card out of an inside pocket, and chucked it on top of the cheque. Naturally I was staggered. He seemed right enough in his head, but I was sure he couldn't be.... When Hawkins came back I introduced him. We talked awhile longer. Then the old man said good-night. The next day I cashed the cheque. I gave up my post in the hospital, and I gave up ... a lot of things. After that I invested every ounce of energy I had in this undertaking24. For three solid years I've done nothing, thought about nothing, except the one thing."[Pg 220]
His eyes were shining as a lover's might, I thought. The sting of jealousy25 poisoned my pleasure in being taken into his confidence—a renewed antagonism26 to the work, work, always work, that made its triumphant27 claim.
"You pretend to be more inhuman28 than you are," I said. "For you don't forget that you can help people who have only ordinary everyday troubles."
"Oh, yes, I do," he laughed. "I'll have nothing to do with ordinary, everyday troubles."
"You helped us——"
"Oh, that's different—an exception. Just for once...." He seemed to excuse himself, for wasting time on us. He said the most extravagant29 things. "A revolution might have swept England. I should have gone on attenuating30 serums31 and inoculating32 guinea-pigs."
It may have been something in my manner, or just my silence, that pulled him up. He spoke33 of the share we at Duncombe had had in "what's happened."
"When I was clean worked out and dead-beat, I came here."
We hadn't any notion of the "rest and refreshment—the——"[Pg 221] He looked at me out of those clear red-brown eyes of his, and seemed to deliberate.
A sense of delicious panic seized me. "And—the—the experiments. How do they come on?" I asked, but I wasn't thinking of them at all.
"That," he said, sinking his voice—"that's just what I'm coming to; though I hoped I shouldn't tell you. I didn't mean to say anything at all this morning, except that I was going to be a hermit34 for these next days. But you aren't a chatterbox. The fact is ... last night I believe I stumbled on the secret."
I don't know what I said, but it pleased him. His eyes were full of gentle brilliancy. "Yes, yes," he said. "I knew you'd understand."
Oh, it was good to see him with that light in his face!
And we sat there, with the morning sun shining over us, and just looked gladness at each other. Then I said I thought he must be the happiest man in England.
He half put out his hand, and drew it back. "I am to find that out, too, very soon," he said.[Pg 222] The clock downstairs chimed ten. Eric jumped up like a person with a train to catch.
He had taken me into his counsels prematurely35 like this, he said, because he wanted to feel sure that I wasn't putting any wrong construction on the fact of his burying himself for these next days. "I like to think you are understanding. If I have any good news, I'll come and tell you. If you don't hear, you'll know I don't dare let go my clue even for an hour, except to sleep."
And now he must go.
I went with him as far as the gate.
He walked with head bent36, and eyes that saw things hidden from me. Already he was back in the Bungalow.
I felt the misery37 of being deserted38. But I felt, too, the strong intelligence, the iron purpose, in the man. And though I was torn and aching, I was proud. For all my jealousy, as I saw the mouth so firm-set under the red-brown thatch39, saw the colour in his face, something reached me, too, of the heat of this passion to find out—something of the absorption of the man of science in his task. Here was the new kind of soldier going to his post.[Pg 223]
I held out my hand. "Good luck!"
He took it, then dropped it quickly.
And quickly, without once looking back, he walked away.
I watched him hurrying across the links till one of the heath hollows swallowed him up.
As I turned to go back to my thyme-planting, I heard the dog-cart rattling40 along the stony41 road.
Madame Aurore!
I never finished planting the thyme.[Pg 224]
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1
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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bungalow
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| n.平房，周围有阳台的木造小平房 | |
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adept
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| adj.老练的，精通的 | |
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inoculation
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| n.接芽；预防接种 | |
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7
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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paltry
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| adj.无价值的，微不足道的 | |
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mascot
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| n.福神，吉祥的东西 | |
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12
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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13
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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conclusive
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| adj.最后的，结论的；确凿的，消除怀疑的 | |
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15
infinity
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| n.无限，无穷，大量 | |
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investigator
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| n.研究者，调查者，审查者 | |
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17
multiplication
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| n.增加，增多，倍增；增殖，繁殖；乘法 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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premature
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| adj.比预期时间早的；不成熟的，仓促的 | |
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publicity
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| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
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cleft
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| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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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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undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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antagonism
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| n.对抗，敌对，对立 | |
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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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inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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30
attenuating
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| v.（使）变细( attenuate的现在分词 )；（使）变薄；（使）变小；减弱 | |
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31
serums
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| n.（动物体内的）浆液( serum的名词复数 )；血清；（一剂）免疫血清 | |
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32
inoculating
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| v.给…做预防注射( inoculate的现在分词 ) | |
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33
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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hermit
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| n.隐士，修道者；隐居 | |
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prematurely
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| adv.过早地，贸然地 | |
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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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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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thatch
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| vt.用茅草覆盖…的顶部；n.茅草(屋) | |
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40
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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