The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第51章

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how　to　see。　She　was　wakened　too　soon。　Too　soon　the　call　had　e
to　her；　when　she　was　a　small　baby；　and　her　father　held　her　close
to　his　breast；　her　sleep…living　heart　was　beaten　into
wakefulness　by　the　striving　of　his　bigger　heart；　by　his　clasping
her　to　his　body　for　love　and　for　fulfilment；　asking　as　a　magnet
must　always　ask。　From　her　the　response　had　struggled　dimly；
vaguely　into　being。

The　children　were　dressed　roughly　for　the　country。　When　she
was　little；　Ursula　pattered　about　in　little　wooden　clogs；　a　blue
overall　over　her　thick　red　dress；　a　red　shawl　crossed　on　her
breast　and　tied　behind　again。　So　she　ran　with　her　father　to　the
garden。

The　household　rose　early。　He　was　out　digging　by　six　o'clock
in　the　morning；　he　went　to　his　work　at　half…past　eight。　And
Ursula　was　usually　in　the　garden　with　him；　though　not　near　at
hand。

At　Eastertime　one　year；　she　helped　him　to　set　potatoes。　It
was　the　first　time　she　had　ever　helped　him。　The　occasion
remained　as　a　picture；　one　of　her　earliest　memories。　They　had
gone　out　soon　after　dawn。　A　cold　wind　was　blowing。　He　had　his
old　trousers　tucked　into　his　boots；　he　wore　no　coat　nor
waistcoat；　his　shirt…sleeves　fluttered　in　the　wind；　his　face　was
ruddy　and　intent；　in　a　kind　of　sleep。　When　he　was　at　work　he
neither　heard　nor　saw。　A　long；　thin　man；　looking　still　a　youth；
with　a　line　of　black　moustache　above　his　thick　mouth；　and　his
fine　hair　blown　on　his　forehead；　he　worked　away　at　the　earth　in
the　grey　first　light；　alone。　His　solitariness　drew　the　child
like　a　spell。

The　wind　came　chill　over　the　dark…green　fields。　Ursula　ran　up
and　watched　him　push　the　setting…peg　in　at　one　side　of　his　ready
earth；　stride　across；　and　push　it　in　the　other　side；　pulling　the
line　taut　and　clear　upon　the　clods　intervening。　Then　with　a
sharp　cutting　noise　the　bright　spade　came　towards　her；　cutting　a
grip　into　the　new；　soft　earth。

He　struck　his　spade　upright　and　straightened　himself。

〃Do　you　want　to　help　me？〃　he　said。

She　looked　up　at　him　from　out　of　her　little　woollen
bonnet。

〃Ay；〃　he　said；　〃you　can　put　some　taters　in　for　me。
Look……like　that……these　little　sprits　standing
up……so　much　apart；　you　see。〃

And　stooping　down　he　quickly；　surely　placed　the　spritted
potatoes　in　the　soft　grip；　where　they　rested　separate　and
pathetic　on　the　heavy　cold　earth。

He　gave　her　a　little　basket　of　potatoes；　and　strode　himself
to　the　other　end　of　the　line。　She　saw　him　stooping；　working
towards　her。　She　was　excited；　and　unused。　She　put　in　one　potato；
then　rearranged　it；　to　make　it　sit　nicely。　Some　of　the　sprits
were　broken；　and　she　was　afraid。　The　responsibility　excited　her
like　a　string　tying　her　up。　She　could　not　help　looking　with
dread　at　the　string　buried　under　the　heaped…back　soil。　Her
father　was　working　nearer；　stooping；　working　nearer。　She　was
overe　by　her　responsibility。　She　put　potatoes　quickly　into
the　cold　earth。

He　came　near。

〃Not　so　close；〃　he　said；　stooping　over　her　potatoes；　taking
some　out　and　rearranging　the　others。　She　stood　by　with　the
painful　terrified　helplessness　of　childhood。　He　was　so　unseeing
and　confident；　she　wanted　to　do　the　thing　and　yet　she　could　not。
She　stood　by　looking　on；　her　little　blue　overall　fluttering　in
the　wind；　the　red　woollen　ends　of　her　shawl　blowing　gustily。
Then　he　went　down　the　row；　relentlessly；　turning　the　potatoes　in
with　his　sharp　spade…cuts。　He　took　no　notice　of　her；　only　worked
on。　He　had　another　world　from　hers。

She　stood　helplessly　stranded　on　his　world。　He　continued　his
work。　She　knew　she　could　not　help　him。　A　little　bit　forlorn；　at
last　she　turned　away；　and　ran　down　the　garden；　away　from　him；　as
fast　as　she　could　go　away　from　him；　to　forget　him　and　his
work。

He　missed　her　presence；　her　face　in　her　red　woollen　bonnet；
her　blue　overall　fluttering。　She　ran　to　where　a　little　water　ran
trickling　between　grass　and　stones。　That　she　loved。

When　he　came　by　he　said　to　her：

〃You　didn't　help　me　much。〃

The　child　looked　at　him　dumbly。　Already　her　heart　was　heavy
because　of　her　own　disappointment。　Her　mouth　was　dumb　and
pathetic。　But　he　did　not　notice；　he　went　his　way。

And　she　played　on；　because　of　her　disappointment　persisting
even　the　more　in　her　play。　She　dreaded　work；　because　she　could
not　do　it　as　he　did　it。　She　was　conscious　of　the　great　breach
between　them。　She　knew　she　had　no　power。　The　grown…up　power　to
work　deliberately　was　a　mystery　to　her。

He　would　smash　into　her　sensitive　child's　world
destructively。　Her　mother　was　lenient；　careless　The　children
played　about　as　they　would　all　day。　Ursula　was
thoughtless……why　should　she　remember　things？　If　across　the
garden　she　saw　the　hedge　had　budded；　and　if　she　wanted　these
greeny…pink；　tiny　buds　for　bread…and…cheese；　to　play　at　teaparty
with；　over　she　went　for　them。

Then　suddenly；　perhaps　the　next　day；　her　soul　would　almost
start　out　of　her　body　as　her　father　turned　on　her；　shouting：

〃Who's　been　tramplin'　an'　dancin'　across　where　I've　just
sowed　seed？　I　know　it's　you；　nuisance！　Can　you　find　nowhere　else
to　walk；　but　just　over　my　seed　beds？　But　it's　like　you；　that
is……no　heed　but　to　follow　your　own　greedy　nose。〃

It　had　shocked　him　in　his　intent　world　to　see　the　zigzagging
lines　of　deep　little　foot…prints　across　his　work。　The　child　was
infinitely　more　shocked。　Her　vulnerable　little　soul　was　flayed
and　trampled。　Why　were　the　foot…prints　there？　She　had　not
wanted　to　make　them。　She　stood　dazzled　with　pain　and　shame　and
unreality。

Her　soul；　her　consciousness　seemed　to　die　away。　She　became
shut　off　and　senseless；　a　little　fixed　creature　whose　soul　had
gone　hard　and　unresponsive。　The　sense　of　her　own　unreality
hardened　her　like　a　frost。　She　cared　no　longer。

And　the　sight　of　her　face；　shut　and　superior　with
self…asserting　indifference；　made　a　flame　of　rage　go　over　him。
He　wanted　to　break　her。

〃I'll　break　your　obstinate　little　face；〃　he　said；　through
shut　teeth；　lifting　his　hand。

The　child　did　not　alter　in　the　least。　The　look　of
indifference；　plete　glancing　indifference；　as　if　nothing　but
herself　existed　to　her；　remained　fixed。

Yet　far　away　in　her；　the　sobs　were　tearing　her　soul。　And　when
he　had　gone；　she　would　go　and　creep　under　the　parlour　sofa；　and
lie　clinched　in　the　silent；　hidden　misery　of　childhood。

When　she　crawled　out；　after　an　hour　or　so；　she　went　rather
stiffly　to　play。　She　willed　to　forget。　She　cut　off　her　childish
soul　from　memory；　so　that　the　pain；　and　the　insult　should　not　be
real。　She　asserted　herself　only。　There　was　not　nothing　in　the
world　but　her　own　self。　So　very　soon；　she　came　to　believe　in　the
outward　malevolence　that　was　against　her。　And　very　early；　she
learned　that　even　her　adored　father　was　part　of　this
malevolence。　And　very　early　she　learned　to　harden　her　soul　in
resistance　and　denial　of　all　that　was　outside　her；　harden
herself　upon　her　own　being。

She　never　felt　sorry　for　what　she　had　done；　she　never　forgave
those　who　had　made　her　guilty。　If　he　had　said　to　her；　〃Why；
Ursula；　did　you　trample　my　carefully…made　bed？〃　that　would　have
hurt　her　to　the　quick；　and　she　would　have　done　anything　for　him。
But　she　was　always　tormented　by　the　unreality　of　outside　things。
The　earth　was　to　walk　on。　Why　must　she　avoid　a　certain　patch；
just　because　it　was　called　a　seed…bed？　It　was　the　earth　to　walk
on。　This　was　her　instinctive　assumption。　And　when　he　bullied
her；　she　became　hard；　cut　herself　off　from　all　connection；　lived
in　the　little　separate　world　of　her　own　violent　will。

As　she　grew　older；　five；　six；　seven；　the　connection　between
her　and　her　father　was　even　stronger。　Yet　it　was　always
straining　to　break。　She　was　always　relapsing　on　her　own　violent
will　into　her　own　separate　world　of　herself。　This　made　him　grind
his　teeth　with　bitterness；　for　he　still　wanted　her。　But　she
could　harden　herself　into　her　own　self's　universe；
impregnable。

He　was　very　fond　of　swimming；　and　in　warm　weather　would　take
her　down　to　the　canal；　to　a　silent　place；　or　to　a　big　pond　or
reservoir；　to　bathe。　He　would　take　her　on　his　back　as　he　went
swimming；　and　she　clung　close；　feeling　his　strong　movement　under
her；　so　strong；　as　if　it　would　uphold　all　the　world。　Then　he
taught　her　to　swim。

She　was　a　fearless　little　thing；　when　he　dared　her。　And　he
had　a　curious　craving　to　frighten　her；　to　see　what　she　would　do
with　him。　He　said；　would　she　ride　on　his　back　whilst　he　jumped
off　the　canal　bridge　down　into　the　water　beneath。

She　would。　He　loved　to　feel　the　naked　child　clinging　on　to
his　shoulders。　There　was　a　curious　fight　between　their　two
wills。　He　mounted　the　parapet　of　the　canal　bridge。　The　water　was
a　long　way　down。　But　the　child　had　a　deliberate　will　set　upon
his。　She　held　herself　fixed　to　him。

He　leapt；　and　down　they　went。　The　crash　of　the　water　as　they
went　under　struck　through　the　child's　small　body；　with　a　sort　of
unconsciousness。　But　she　remained　fixed。　And　when　they　came　up
again；　and　when　they　went　to　the　bank；　and　when　they　sat　on　the
grass　side　by　side；　he　laughed；　and　said　it　was　fine。　And　the
dark…dilated　eyes　of　the　child　looked　at　him　wonderingly；
darkly；　wondering　from　the　shock；　yet　reserved　and　unfathomable；
so　he　laughed　almost　with　a　sob。

In