The First Algernon Blackwood MEGAPACK ®. Algernon Blackwood

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ good deal.

      “They do; they interest me greatly.” There was no trace of fight in the voice. “That should cause you no surprise.”

      “Me—they simply fascinate,” said O’Malley, always easily drawn. “What is it? What do you see about them that is unusual? Do you, too, see them ‘big’?” the doctor did not answer at once, and O’Malley added, “The father’s a tremendous fellow, but it’s not that—”

      “Partly, though,” said the other, “partly, I think.”

      “What else, then?” the fur-merchant, still talking, prevented their being overheard. “What is it marks them off so from the rest?”

      “Of all people you should see,” smiled the doctor quietly. “If a man of your imagination sees nothing, what shall a poor exact mind like myself see?” He eyed him keenly a moment. “You really mean that you detect nothing?”

      “A certain distinction, yes; a certain aloofness from others. Isolated, they seem in a way; rather a splendid isolation I should call it—”

      And then he stopped abruptly. It was most curious, but he was aware that unwittingly in this way he had stumbled upon the truth, aware at the same time that he resented discussing it with his companion—because it meant at the same time discussing himself or something in himself he wished to hide. His entire mood shifted again with completeness and rapidity. He could not help it. It seemed suddenly as though he had been telling the doctor secrets about himself, secrets moreover he would not treat sympathetically. the doctor had been “at him,” so to speak, searching the depths of him with a probing acuteness the casual language had disguised.

      “What are they, do you suppose: Finns, Russians, Norwegians, or what?” the doctor asked. And the other replied briefly that he guessed they might be Russians perhaps, South Russians. His tone was different. He wished to avoid further discussion. At the first opportunity he neatly changed the conversation.

      It was curious, the way proof came to him. Something in himself, wild as the desert, something to do with that love of primitive life he discussed only with the few who were intimately sympathetic toward it, this something in his soul was so akin to a similar passion in these strangers that to talk of it was to betray himself as well as them.

      Further, he resented Dr. Stahl’s interest in them, because he felt it was critical and scientific. Not far behind hid the analysis that would lay them bare, leading to their destruction. A profound instinctive sense of self-preservation had been stirred within him.

      Already, mysteriously guided by secret affinities, he had ranged himself on the side of the strangers.

      V

      “Mythology contains the history of the archetypal world. It comprehends Past, Present, and Future.”

      —NOVALIS, _Flower Pollen, Translated by U.C.B.

      In this way there came between these two the slight barrier of a forbidden subject that grew because neither destroyed it. O’Malley had erected it; Dr. Stahl respected it. Neither referred again for a time to the big Russian and his son.

      In his written account O’Malley, who was certainly no constructive literary craftsman, left out apparently countless little confirmatory details. By word of mouth he made me feel at once that this mystery existed, however; and to weld the two together is a difficult task. There nevertheless was this something about the Russian and his boy that excited deep curiosity, accompanied by an aversion on the part of the other passengers that isolated them; also, there was this competition on the part of the two friends to solve it, from opposing motives.

      Had either of the strangers fallen seasick, the advantage would have been easily with Dr. Stahl—professionally, but since they remained well, and the doctor was in constant demand by the other passengers, it was the Irishman who won the first move and came to close quarters by making a personal acquaintance. His strong desire helped matters of course; for he noticed with indignation that these two, quiet and inoffensive as they were and with no salient cause of offence, were yet rejected by the main body of passengers. They seemed to possess a quality that somehow insulated them from approach, sending them effectually “to Coventry,” and in a small steamer where the travelers settle down into a kind of big family life, this isolation was unpleasantly noticeable.

      It stood out in numerous little details that only a keen observer closely watching could have taken into account. Small advances, travelers’ courtesies, and the like that ordinarily should have led to conversation, in their case led to nothing. the other passengers invariably moved away after a few moments, politely excusing themselves, as it were, from further intercourse. And although at first the sight of this stirred in him an instinct of revolt that was almost anger, he soon felt that the couple not merely failed to invite, but even emanated some definite atmosphere that repelled. And each time he witnessed these little scenes, there grew more strongly in him the original picture he had formed of them as beings rejected and alone, hunted by humanity as a whole, seeking escape from loneliness into a place of refuge that they knew of, definitely at last en route.

      Only an imaginative mind, thus concentrated upon them, could have divined all this; yet to O’Malley it seemed plain as the day. With the certitude, moreover, came the feeling, ever stronger, that the refuge they sought would prove to be also the refuge he himself sought, the difference being that whereas they knew, he still hesitated.

      Yet, in spite of this secret sympathy, imagined or discovered, he found it no easy matter to approach the big man for speech. For a day and a half he merely watched; attraction so strong excited caution; he paused, waiting. His attention, however, was so keen that he seemed always to know where they were and what they were doing. By instinct he was aware in what part of the ship they would be found—for the most part leaning over the rail alone in the bows, staring down at the churned water together by the screws, pacing the after-deck in the dusk or early morning when no one was about, or hidden away in some corner of the upper deck, side by side, gazing at sea and sky. Their method of walking, too, made it easy to single them out from the rest—a free, swaying movement of the limbs, a swing of the shoulders, a gait that was lumbering, almost clumsy, half defiant, yet at the same time graceful, and curiously rapid. the body moved along swiftly for all its air of blundering—a motion which was a counterpart of that elusive appearance of great bulk, and equally difficult of exact determination. An air went with them of being ridiculously confined by the narrow little decks.

      Thus it was that Genoa had been made and the ship was already half way on to Naples before the opportunity for closer acquaintance presented itself. Rather, O’Malley, unable longer to resist, forced it. It seemed, too, inevitable as sunrise.

      Rain had followed the mistral and the sea was rough. A rich land-taste came about the ship like the smell of wet oaks when wind sweeps their leaves after a sousing shower. In the hour before dinner, the decks slippery with moisture, only one or two wrapped-up passengers in deck-chairs below the awning, O’Malley, following a sure inner lead, came out of the stuffy smoking-room into the air. It was already dark and the drive of mist-like rain somewhat obscured his vision after the glare. Only for a moment though—for almost the first thing he saw was the Russian and his boy moving in front of him toward the aft compasses. Like a single figure, huge and shadowy, they passed into the darkness beyond with a speed that seemed as usual out of proportion to their actual stride. They lumbered rapidly away. O’Malley caught that final swing of the man’s great shoulders as they disappeared, and, leaving the covered deck, he made straight after them. And though neither gave any sign that they had seen him, he felt that they were aware of his coming—and even invited him.

      As he drew close a roll of the vessel brought them almost into each other’s arms, and СКАЧАТЬ