A dream journey. So it seemed; more so every day. It was as though, Hil-ary felt, she had been travelling all her life with these five strangely assor-ted companions. They had stepped off from the beaten track into the void.
In one sense this journey of theirs could not be called a flight. They wereall, she supposed, free agents; free, that is, to go where they chose. As faras she knew they had committed no crime, they were not wanted by thepolice. Yet great pains had been taken to hide their tracks. Sometimes shewondered why this was, since they were not fugitives1. It was as thoughthey were in process of becoming not themselves but someone else.
That indeed was literally2 true in her case. She who had left England asHilary Craven had become Olive Betterton, and perhaps her strange feel-ing of unreality had something to do with that. Every day the glib3 politicalslogans seemed to come more easily to her lips. She felt herself becomingearnest and intense, and that again she put down to the influence of hercompanions.
She knew now that she was afraid of them. She had never before spentany time in close intimacy4 with people of genius. This was genius at closequarters, and genius had that something above the normal in it that was agreat strain upon the ordinary mind and feeling. All five were differentfrom each other, yet each had that curious quality of burning intensity5,the single-mindedness of purpose that made such a terrifying impression.
She did not know whether it were a quality of brain or rather a quality ofoutlook, of intensity. But each of them, she thought, was in his or her waya passionate6 idealist. To Dr. Barron life was a passionate desire to be oncemore in his laboratory, to be able to calculate and experiment and workwith unlimited7 money and unlimited resources. To work for what? Shedoubted if he ever put that question to himself. He spoke8 to her once ofthe powers of destruction that he could let loose on a vast continent,which could be contained in one little phial. She had said to him:
“But could you ever do that? Actually really do it?”
And he replied, looking at her with faint surprise:
“Yes. Yes, of course, if it became necessary.”
He had said it in a merely perfunctory fashion. He had gone on:
“It would be amazingly interesting to see the exact course, the exact pro-gress.” And he had added with a deep half sigh, “You see, there’s so muchmore to know, so much more to find out.”
For a moment Hilary understood. For a moment she stood where hestood, impregnated with that single-hearted desire for knowledge whichswept aside life and death for millions of human beings as essentially9 un-important. It was a point of view and, in a way, a not ignoble10 one. To-wards Helga Needheim she felt more antagonistic11. The young woman’s su-perb arrogance12 revolted her. Peters she liked but was from time to timerepulsed and frightened by the sudden fanatical gleam in his eye. She saidto him once:
“It is not a new world you want to create. It is destroying the old onethat you will enjoy.”
“You’re wrong, Olive. What a thing to say.”
“No, I’m not wrong. There’s hate in you. I can feel it. Hate. The wish todestroy.”
Ericsson she found the most puzzling of all. Ericsson, she thought, was adreamer, less practical than the Frenchman, further removed from de-structive passion than the American. He had the strange, fanatical ideal-ism of the Norseman.
“We must conquer,” he said: “we must conquer the world. Then we canrule.”
“We?” she asked.
He nodded, his face strange and gentle with a deceptive13 mildness aboutthe eyes.
“Yes,” he said, “we few who count. The brains. That is all that matters.”
Hilary thought, where are we going? Where is all this leading? Thesepeople are mad, but they’re not mad in the same way as each other. It’s asthough they were all going towards different goals, different mirages14. Yes,that was the word. Mirages. And from them she turned to a contemplationof Mrs. Calvin Baker15. Here there was no fanaticism16, no hate, no dream, noarrogance, no aspiration17. There was nothing here that Hilary could find ortake notice of. She was a woman, Hilary thought, without either heart orconscience. She was the efficient instrument in the hands of a big un-known force.
It was the end of the third day. They had come to a small town andalighted at a small native hotel. Here, Hilary found, they were to resumeEuropean clothing. She slept that night in a small, bare white- washedroom, rather like a cell. At early dawn Mrs. Baker woke her.
“We’re going off right now,” said Mrs. Baker. “The plane’s waiting.”
“The plane?”
“Why yes, my dear. We’re returning to civilized18 travelling, thank theLord.”
They came to the airfield19 and the plane after about an hour’s drive. Itlooked like a disused army airfield. The pilot was a Frenchman. They flewfor some hours, their flight taking them over mountains. Looking downfrom the plane Hilary thought what a curious sameness the world has,seen from above. Mountains, valleys, roads, houses. Unless one was reallyan aerial expert all places looked alike. That in some the population wasdenser than in others, was about all that one could say. And half of thetime one saw nothing owing to travelling over clouds.
In the early afternoon they began to lose height and circle down. Theywere in mountainous country still, but coming down in a flat plain. Therewas a well-marked aerodrome here and a white building beside it. Theymade a perfect landing.
Mrs. Baker led the way towards the building. Beside it were two power-ful cars with chauffeurs21 standing22 by them. It was clearly a private aero-drome of some kind, since there appeared to be no official reception.
“Journey’s end,” said Mrs. Baker cheerfully. “We all go in and have agood wash and brush up. And then the cars will be ready.”
“Journey’s end?” Hilary stared at her. “But we’ve not — we haven’tcrossed the sea at all.”
“Did you expect to?” Mrs. Baker seemed amused. Hilary said confusedly:
“Well, yes. Yes, I did. I thought .?.?.” She stopped.
Mrs. Baker nodded her head.
“Why, so do a lot of people. There’s a lot of nonsense talked about theIron Curtain, but what I say is an iron curtain can be anywhere. Peopledon’t think of that.”
Two Arab servants received them. After a wash and freshening up theysat down to coffee and sandwiches and biscuits.
Then Mrs. Baker glanced at her watch.
“Well, so long, folks,” she said. “This is where I leave you.”
“Are you going back to Morocco?” asked Hilary, surprised.
“That wouldn’t quite do,” said Mrs. Calvin Baker, “with me being sup-posed to be burnt up in a plane accident! No, I shall be on a different runthis time.”
“But someone might still recognize you,” said Hilary. “Someone, I mean,who’d met you in hotels in Casablanca or Fez.”
“Ah,” said Mrs. Baker, “but they’d be making a mistake. I’ve got a differ-ent passport now, though it’s true enough that a sister of mine, a Mrs.
Calvin Baker, lost her life that way. My sister and I are supposed to bevery alike.” She added, “And to the casual people one comes across in ho-tels one travelling American woman is very like another.”
Yes, Hilary thought, that was true enough. All the outer, unimportantcharacteristics were present in Mrs. Baker. The neatness, the trimness, thecarefully arranged blue hair, the highly monotonous23, prattling24 voice. In-ner characteristics, she realized, were carefully masked or, indeed, absent.
Mrs. Calvin Baker presented to the world and to her companions, a fa?ade,but what was behind the facade25 was not easy to fathom26. It was as thoughshe had deliberately27 extinguished those tokens of individuality by whichone personality is distinguishable from another.
Hilary felt moved to say so. She and Mrs. Baker were standing a littleapart from the rest.
“One doesn’t know,” said Hilary, “in the least what you’re really like?”
“Why should you?”
“Yes. Why should I? And yet, you know, I feel I ought to. We’ve travelledtogether in rather intimate circumstances and it seems odd to me that Iknow nothing about you. Nothing, I mean, of the essential you, of whatyou feel and think, of what you like and dislike, of what’s important to youand what isn’t.”
“You’ve such a probing mind, my dear,” said Mrs. Baker. “If you’ll takemy advice, you’ll curb28 that tendency.”
“I don’t even know what part of the United States you come from.”
“That doesn’t matter either. I’ve finished with my own country. Thereare reasons why I can never go back there. If I can pay off a grudgeagainst that country, I’ll enjoy doing it.”
For just a second or two malevolence29 showed both in her expressionand in the tone of her voice. Then it relaxed once more into cheerful tour-ist tones.
“Well, so long, Mrs. Betterton, I hope you have a very agreeable reunionwith your husband.”
Hilary said helplessly:
“I don’t even know where I am, what part of the world, I mean.”
“Oh, that’s easy. There needs to be no concealment30 about that now. A re-mote spot in the High Atlas31. That’s near enough—”
Mrs. Baker moved away and started saying goodbye to the others. Witha final gay wave of her hand she walked out across the tarmac. The planehad been refuelled and the pilot was standing waiting for her. A faint coldchill went over Hilary. Here, she felt, was her last link with the outsideworld. Peters, standing near her, seemed to sense her reaction.
“The place of no return,” he said softly. “That’s us, I guess.”
Dr. Barron said softly:
“Have you still courage, Madame, or do you at this moment want to runafter your American friend and climb with her into the plane and go back—back to the world you have left?”
“Could I go if I wanted to?” asked Hilary.
The Frenchman shrugged32 his shoulders.
“One wonders.”
“Shall I call to her?” asked Andy Peters.
“Of course not,” said Hilary sharply.
Helga Needheim said scornfully:
“There is no room here for women who are weaklings.”
“She is not a weakling,” said Dr. Barron softly, “but she asks herselfquestions as any intelligent woman would do.” He stressed the word “in-telligent” as though it were a reflection upon the German woman. She,however, was unaffected by his tone. She despised all Frenchmen and washappily assured of her own worth. Ericsson said, in his high nervousvoice:
“When one has at last reached freedom, can one even contemplate33 go-ing back?”
Hilary said:
“But if it is not possible to go back, or to choose to go back, then it is notfreedom!”
One of the servants came to them and said:
“If you please, the cars are ready now to start.”
They went out through the opposite door of the building. Two Cadillaccars were standing there with uniformed chauffeurs. Hilary indicated apreference for sitting in front with the chauffeur20. She explained theswinging motion of a large car occasionally made her feel carsick. This ex-planation seemed to be accepted easily enough. As they drove along Hil-ary made a little desultory34 conversation from time to time. The weather,the excellence35 of the car. She spoke French quite easily and well, and thechauffeur responded agreeably. His manner was entirely36 natural andmatter-of-fact.
“How long will it take us?” she asked presently.
“From the aerodrome to the hospital? It is a drive of perhaps two hours,Madame.”
The words struck Hilary with faintly disagreeable surprise. She hadnoted, without thinking much about it, that Helga Needheim had changedat the rest house and was now wearing a hospital nurse’s kit37. This fittedin.
“Tell me something about the hospital,” she said to the chauffeur.
His reply was enthusiastic.
“Ah, Madame, it is magnificent. The equipment, it is the most up to datein the world. Many doctors come and visit it, and all of them go away fullof praise. It is a great thing that is being done there for humanity.”
“It must be,” said Hilary, “yes, yes, indeed it must.”
“These miserable38 ones,” said the chauffeur, “they have been sent in thepast to perish miserably39 on a lonely island. But here this new treatment ofDr. Kolini’s cures a very high percentage. Even those who are far gone.”
“It seems a lonely place to have a hospital,” said Hilary.
“Ah, Madame, but you would have to be lonely in the circumstances.
The authorities would insist upon it. But it is good air here, wonderful air.
See, Madame, you can see now where we are going.” He pointed40.
They were approaching the first spurs of a mountain range, and on theside of it, set flat against the hillside, was a long gleaming white building.
“What an achievement,” said the chauffeur, “to raise such a building outhere. The money spent must have been fantastic. We owe much, Madame,to the rich philanthropists of this world. They are not like governmentswho do things always in a cheap way. Here money has been spent like wa-ter. Our patron, he is one of the richest men in the world, they say. Heretruly he has built a magnificent achievement for the relief of human suf-fering.”
He drove up a winding41 track. Finally they came to rest outside greatbarred iron gates.
“You must dismount here, Madame,” said the chauffeur. “It is not per-mitted that I take the car through these gates. The garages are a kilometreaway.”
The travellers got out of the car. There was a big bellpull at the gate, butbefore they could touch it the gates swung slowly open. A white-robed fig-ure with a black, smiling face bowed to them and bade them enter. Theypassed through the gate; at one side, screened by a high fence of wire,there was a big courtyard where men were walking up and down. Asthese men turned to look at the arrivals, Hilary uttered a gasp42 of horror.
“But they’re lepers!” she exclaimed. “Lepers!”
A shiver of horror shook her entire frame.
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1
fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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2
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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glib
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| adj.圆滑的，油嘴滑舌的 | |
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intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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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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7
unlimited
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| adj.无限的，不受控制的，无条件的 | |
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8
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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9
essentially
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| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
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10
ignoble
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| adj.不光彩的，卑鄙的；可耻的 | |
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antagonistic
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| adj.敌对的 | |
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arrogance
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| n.傲慢，自大 | |
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deceptive
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| adj.骗人的，造成假象的，靠不住的 | |
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14
mirages
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| n.海市蜃楼，幻景( mirage的名词复数 ) | |
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15
baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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fanaticism
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| n.狂热，盲信 | |
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aspiration
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| n.志向，志趣抱负；渴望；(语)送气音；吸出 | |
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18
civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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airfield
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| n.飞机场 | |
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chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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chauffeurs
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| n.受雇于人的汽车司机( chauffeur的名词复数 ) | |
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22
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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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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24
prattling
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| v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话( prattle的现在分词 )；发出连续而无意义的声音；闲扯；东拉西扯 | |
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25
facade
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| n.(建筑物的)正面，临街正面；外表 | |
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fathom
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| v.领悟，彻底了解 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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28
curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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29
malevolence
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| n.恶意，狠毒 | |
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30
concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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atlas
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| n.地图册，图表集 | |
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32
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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desultory
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| adj.散漫的，无方法的 | |
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excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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kit
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| n.用具包，成套工具；随身携带物 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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40
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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41
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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42
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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