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any kind。。。。
But to go back。 On Sunday； the day after I wrote； as I was coming
from a walk； I met a little boy making mournful sounds on a tin
whistle。
〃Coom ahn！〃 he said； 〃the Miss wahnts t' zee yu。〃
I went to her room。 In the morning she had seemed better； but now
looked utterly exhausted。 She had a letter in her hand。
〃It's this；〃 she said。 〃I don't seem to understand it。 He wants me
to do somethingbut I can't think； and my eyes feel funny。 Read it
to me； please。〃
The letter was from Zachary。 I read it to her in a low voice； for
Mrs。 Hopgood was in the room； her eyes always fixed on Pasiance above
her knitting。 When I'd finished； she made me read it again； and yet
again。 At first she seemed pleased； almost excited； then came a
weary； scornful look； and before I'd finished the third time she was
asleep。 It was a remarkable letter； that seemed to bring the man
right before one's eyes。 I slipped it under her fingers on the bed…
clothes； and went out。 Fancy took me to the cliff where she had
fallen。 I found the point of rock where the cascade of ivy flows
down the cliff； the ledge on which she had climbed was a little to my
righta mad place。 It showed plainly what wild emotions must have
been driving her！ Behind was a half…cut cornfield with a fringe of
poppies； and swarms of harvest insects creeping and flying； in the
uncut corn a landrail kept up a continual charring。 The sky was blue
to the very horizon； and the sea wonderful； under that black wild
cliff stained here and there with red。 Over the dips and hollows of
the fields great white clouds hung low down above the land。 There
are no brassy； east…coast skies here； but always sleepy； soft…shaped
clouds； full of subtle stir and change。 Passages of Zachary's
Pearse's letter kept rising to my lips。 After all he's the man that
his native place； and life； and blood have made him。 It is useless
to expect idealists where the air is soft and things good to look on
（the idealist grows where he must create beauty or comfort for
himself）； useless to expect a man of law and order； in one whose
fathers have stared at the sea day and night for a thousand years
the sea； full of its promises of unknown things； never quite the
same； a slave to its own impulses。 Man is an imitative animal。。。。
〃Life's hard enough；〃 he wrote； 〃without tying yourself down。 Don't
think too hardly of me！ Shall I make you happier by taking you into
danger？ If I succeed you'll be a rich woman； but I shall fail if
you're with me。 To look at you makes me soft。 At sea a man dreams
of all the good things on land； he'll dream of the heather； and
honeyyou're like that； and he'll dream of the apple…trees； and the
grass of the orchardsyou're like that； sometimes he only lies on
his back and wishesand you're like that； most of all like that。。。。〃
When I was reading those words I remember a strange； soft； half…
scornful look came over Pasiance's face； and once she said； 〃But
that's all nonsense； isn't it。。。？〃
Then followed a long passage about what he would gain if he
succeeded； about all that he was risking； the impossibility of
failure； if he kept his wits about him。 〃It's only a matter of two
months or so；〃 he went on； 〃stay where you are； dear； or go to my
Dad。 He'll be glad to have you。 There's my mother's room。 There's
no one to say 'No' to your fiddle there； you can play it by the sea；
and on dark nights you'll have the stars dancing to you over the
water as thick as bees。 I've looked at them often； thinking of
you。。。。〃
Pasiance had whispered to me； 〃Don't read that bit；〃 and afterwards I
left it out。。。。 Then the sensuous side of him shows up： 〃When I've
brought this off； there's the whole world before us。 There are
places I can take you to。 There's one I know； not too warm and not
too cold； where you can sit all day in the shade and watch the
creepers； and the cocoa…palms； still as still； nothing to do or care
about； all the fruits you can think of； no noise but the parrots and
the streams； and a splash when a nigger dives into a water…hole。
Pasiance； we'll go there！ With an eighty…ton craft there's no sea we
couldn't know。 The world's a fine place for those who go out to take
it； there's lots of unknown stuff' in it yet。 I'll fill your lap； my
pretty； so full of treasures that you shan't know yourself。 A man
wasn't meant to sit at home。。。。〃
Throughout this letterfor all its real passionone could feel how
the man was holding to his purposethe rather sordid purpose of this
venture。 He's unconscious of it； for he is in love with her； but he
must be furthering his own ends。 He is vitalhorribly vital！ I
wonder less now that she should have yielded。
What visions hasn't he dangled before her。 There was physical
attraction； tooI haven't forgotten the look I saw on her face at
Black Mill。 But when all's said and done； she married him； because
she's Pasiance Voisey； who does things and wants 〃to get back。〃 And
she lies there dying； not he nor any other man will ever take her
away。 It's pitiful to think of him tingling with passion； writing
that letter to this doomed girl in that dark hole of a saloon。 〃I've
wanted money；〃 he wrote； 〃ever since I was a little chap sitting in
the fields among the cows。。。。 I want it for you now； and I mean to
have it。 I've studied the thing two years； I know what I know。。。。
The moment this is in the post I leave for London。 There are a
hundred things to look after still； I can't trust myself within reach
of you again till the anchor's weighed。 When I re…christened her the
Pied Witch； I thought of youyou witch to me。。。。〃
There followed a solemn entreaty to her to be on the path leading to
the cove at seven o'clock on Wednesday evening （that is； to…morrow）
when he would come ashore and bid her good…bye。 It was signed； 〃Your
loving husband； Zachary Pearse。。。。〃
I lay at the edge of that cornfield a long time； it was very
peaceful。 The church bells had begun to ring。 The long shadows came
stealing out from the sheaves； woodpigeons rose one by one； and
flapped off to roost； the western sky was streaked with red； and all
the downs and combe bathed in the last sunlight。 Perfect harvest
weather； but oppressively still； the stillness of suspense。。。。
Life at the farm goes on as usual。 We have morning and evening
prayers。 John Ford reads them fiercely； as though he were on the eve
of a revolt against his God。 Morning and evening he visits her；
comes out wheezing heavily； and goes to his own room； I believe； to
pray。 Since this morning I haven't dared meet him。 He is a strong
old manbut this will break him up。。。。
VII
〃KINGSWEAR； Saturday； i3tb August。
It's overI leave here to…morrow； and go abroad。
A quiet afternoonnot a breath up in the churchyard！ I was there
quite half an hour before they came。 Some red cows had strayed into
the adjoining orchard； and were rubbing their heads against the
railing。 While I stood there an old woman came and drove them away；
afterwards； she stooped and picked up the apples that had fallen
before their time。
〃The apples are ripe and ready to fall；
Oh！ heigh…ho！ and ready to fall；
There came an old woman and gathered them all；
Oh！ heigh…ho！ and gathered them all。〃
。。。。。。They brought Pasiance very simplyno hideous funeral
trappings； thank Godthe farm hands carried her； and there was no
one there but John Ford； the Hopgoods； myself； and that young doctor。
They read the service over her grave。 I can hear John Ford's 〃Amen！〃
now。 When it was over he walked away bareheaded in the sun； without
a word。 I went up there again this evening； and wandered amongst the
tombstones。 〃Richard Voisey；〃 〃John； the son of Richard and
Constance Voisey；〃 〃Margery Voisey；〃 so many generations of them in
that corner； then 〃Richard Voisey and Agnes his wife；〃 and next to it
that new mound on which a sparrow was strutting and the shadows of
the apple…trees already hovering。
I will tell you the little left to tell。。。。
On Wednesday afternoon she asked for me again。
〃It's only till seven；〃 she whispered。 〃He's certain to come then。
But if Iwere to die firstthen tell himI'm sorry for him。 They
keep saying： 'Don't talkdon't talk！' Isn't it stupid？ As if I
should have any other chance！ There'll be no more talking after to…
night！ Make everybody come； pleaseI want to see them all。 When
you're dying you're freer than any other timenobody wants you to do
things； nobody cares what you say。。。。 He promised me I should do
what I liked if I married himI never believed that reallybut now
I can do what I like； and say all the things I want to。〃 She lay
back silent； she could not after all speak the inmost thoughts that
are in each of us； so sacred that they melt away at the approach of
words。
I shall remember her like thatw