50+ Space Action Adventure Classics. Жюль Верн
Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу 50+ Space Action Adventure Classics - Жюль Верн страница 204

Название: 50+ Space Action Adventure Classics

Автор: Жюль Верн

Издательство: Bookwire

Жанр: Языкознание

Серия:

isbn: 9788027248278

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ at once with these steely cold duties of the wider life. I felt new born, and naked, and at a loss.

      “Work!” I said with an effort at the heroic, and turned about with a sigh, and I was glad that the way I had to go would at least take me to my mother… .

      But, curiously enough, I remember myself as being fairly cheerful in the town of Birmingham that night, I recall an active and interested mood. I spent the night in Birmingham because the train service on was disarranged, and I could not get on. I went to listen to a band that was playing its brassy old-world music in the public park, and I fell into conversation with a man who said he had been a reporter upon one of their minor local papers. He was full and keen upon all the plans of reconstruction that were now shaping over the lives of humanity, and I know that something of that noble dream came back to me with his words and phrases. We walked up to a place called Bourneville by moonlight, and talked of the new social groupings that must replace the old isolated homes, and how the people would be housed.

      This Bourneville was germane to that matter. It had been an attempt on the part of a private firm of manufacturers to improve the housing of their workers. To our ideas to-day it would seem the feeblest of benevolent efforts, but at the time it was extraordinary and famous, and people came long journeys to see its trim cottages with baths sunk under the kitchen floors (of all conceivable places), and other brilliant inventions. No one seemed to see the danger to liberty in that aggressive age, that might arise through making workpeople tenants and debtors of their employer, though an Act called the Truck Act had long ago intervened to prevent minor developments in the same direction… . But I and my chance acquaintance seemed that night always to have been aware of that possibility, and we had no doubt in our minds of the public nature of the housing duty. Our interest lay rather in the possibility of common nurseries and kitchens and public rooms that should economize toil and give people space and freedom.

      It was very interesting, but still a little cheerless, and when I lay in bed that night I thought of Nettie and the queer modifications of preference she had made, and among other things and in a way, I prayed. I prayed that night, let me confess it, to an image I had set up in my heart, an image that still serves with me as a symbol for things inconceivable, to a Master Artificer, the unseen captain of all who go about the building of the world, the making of mankind.

      But before and after I prayed I imagined I was talking and reasoning and meeting again with Nettie… . She never came into the temple of that worshiping with me.

      Chapter the Second.

       My Mother’s Last Days

       Table of Contents

      Section 1

      Next day I came home to Clayton.

      The new strange brightness of the world was all the brighter there, for the host of dark distressful memories, of darkened childhood, toilsome youth, embittered adolescence that wove about the place for me. It seemed to me that I saw morning there for the first time. No chimneys smoked that day, no furnaces were burning, the people were busy with other things. The clear strong sun, the sparkle in the dustless air, made a strange gaiety in the narrow streets. I passed a number of smiling people coming home from the public breakfasts that were given in the Town Hall until better things could be arranged, and happened on Parload among them. “You were right about that comet,” I sang out at the sight of him; and he came toward me and clasped my hand.

      “What are people doing here?” said I.

      “They’re sending us food from outside,” he said, “and we’re going to level all these slums — and shift into tents on to the moors;” and he began to tell me of many things that were being arranged, the Midland land committees had got to work with remarkable celerity and directness of purpose, and the redistribution of population was already in its broad outlines planned. He was working at an improvised college of engineering. Until schemes of work were made out, almost every one was going to school again to get as much technical training as they could against the demands of the huge enterprise of reconstruction that was now beginning.

      He walked with me to my door, and there I met old Pettigrew coming down the steps. He looked dusty and tired, but his eye was brighter than it used to be, and he carried in a rather unaccustomed manner, a workman’s tool basket.

      “How’s the rheumatism, Mr. Pettigrew?” I asked.

      “Dietary,” said old Pettigrew, “can work wonders… .” He looked me in the eye. “These houses,” he said, “will have to come down, I suppose, and our notions of property must undergo very considerable revision — in the light of reason; but meanwhile I’ve been doing something to patch that disgraceful roof of mine! To think that I could have dodged and evaded — — — “

      He raised a deprecatory hand, drew down the loose corners of his ample mouth, and shook his old head.

      “The past is past, Mr. Pettigrew.”

      “Your poor dear mother! So good and honest a woman! So simple and kind and forgiving! To think of it! My dear young man!” — he said it manfully — “I’m ashamed.”

      “The whole world blushed at dawn the other day, Mr. Pettigrew,” I said, “and did it very prettily. That’s over now. God knows, who is NOT ashamed of all that came before last Tuesday.”

      I held out a forgiving hand, naively forgetful that in this place I was a thief, and he took it and went his way, shaking his head and repeating he was ashamed, but I think a little comforted.

      The door opened and my poor old mother’s face, marvelously cleaned, appeared. “Ah, Willie, boy! YOU. You!”

      I ran up the steps to her, for I feared she might fall.

      How she clung to me in the passage, the dear woman! …

      But first she shut the front door. The old habit of respect for my unaccountable temper still swayed her. “Ah deary!” she said, “ah deary! But you were sorely tried,” and kept her face close to my shoulder, lest she should offend me by the sight of the tears that welled within her.

      She made a sort of gulping noise and was quiet for a while, holding me very tightly to her heart with her worn, long hands …

      She thanked me presently for my telegram, and I put my arm about her and drew her into the living room.

      “It’s all well with me, mother dear,” I said, “and the dark times are over — are done with for ever, mother.”

      Whereupon she had courage and gave way and sobbed aloud, none chiding her.

      She had not let me know she could still weep for five grimy years… .

      Section 2

      Dear heart! There remained for her but a very brief while in this world that had been renewed. I did not know how short that time would be, but the little I could do — perhaps after all it was not little to her — to atone for the harshness of my days of wrath and rebellion, I did. I took care to be constantly with her, for I perceived now her curious need of me. It was not that we had ideas to exchange or pleasures to share, but she liked to see me at table, to watch me working, to have me go to СКАЧАТЬ