按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
Pippin was full of wistful questions about 〃home。〃 He wanted to talk
of music； pictures； plays； of how London looked； what new streets
there were； and； above all； whether Scorrier had been lately in the
West Country。 He talked of getting leave next winter； asked whether
Scorrier thought they would 〃put up with him at home〃； then； with the
agitation which had alarmed Scorrier before； he added： 〃Ah！ but I'm
not fit for home now。 One gets spoiled； it's big and silent here。
What should I go back to？ I don't seem to realise。〃
Scorrier thought of Hemmings。 〃'Tis a bit cramped there； certainly；〃
he muttered。
Pippin went on as if divining his thoughts。 〃I suppose our friend
Hemmings would call me foolish； he's above the little weaknesses of
imagination； eh？ Yes； it's silent here。 Sometimes in the evening I
would give my head for somebody to talk toHemmings would never give
his head for anything； I think。 But all the same； I couldn't face
them at home。 Spoiled！〃 And slyly he murmured： 〃What would the
Board say if they could hear that？〃
Scorrier blurted out： 〃To tell you the truth； they complain a little
of not hearing from you。〃
Pippin put out a hand； as if to push something away。 〃Let them try
the life here！〃 he broke out； 〃it's like sitting on a live volcano
what with our friends； 'the enemy；' over there； the men； the American
competition。 I keep it going； Scorrier； but at what a costat what
a cost！〃
〃But surelyletters？〃
Pippin only answered： 〃 I tryI try！〃
Scorrier felt with remorse and wonder that he had spoken the truth。
The following day he left for his inspection； and while in the camp
of 〃the enemy〃 much was the talk he heard of Pippin。
〃Why！〃 said his host； the superintendent； a little man with a face
somewhat like an owl's； 〃d'you know the name they've given him down
in the capital'the King'good； eh？ He's made them 'sit up' all
along this coast。 I like him well enoughgoodhearted man；
shocking nervous； but my people down there can't stand him at any
price。 Sir； he runs this colony。 You'd think butter wouldn't melt
in that mouth of his； but he always gets his way； that's what riles
'em so； that and the success he's making of his mine。 It puzzles me；
you'd think he'd only be too glad of a quiet life； a man with his
nerves。 But no； he's never happy unless he's fighting； something
where he's got a chance to score a victory。 I won't say he likes it；
but； by Jove； it seems he's got to do it。 Now that's funny！ I'll
tell you one thing； though shouldn't be a bit surprised if he broke
down some day； and I'll tell you another；〃 he added darkly； 〃he's
sailing very near the wind； with those large contracts that he makes。
I wouldn't care to take his risks。 Just let them have a strike； or
something that shuts them down for a spelland mark my words； sir
it'll be all up with them。 But；〃 he concluded confidentially； 〃I
wish I had his hold on the men； it's a great thing in this country。
Not like home； where you can go round a corner and get another gang。
You have to make the best you can out of the lot you have； you won't；
get another man for love or money without you ship him a few hundred
miles。〃 And with a frown he waved his arm over the forests to
indicate the barrenness of the land。
Scorrier finished his inspection and went on a shooting trip into the
forest。 His host met him on his return。 〃Just look at this！〃 he
said； holding out a telegram。 〃Awful； isn't it？〃 His face expressed
a profound commiseration； almost ludicrously mixed with the ashamed
contentment that men experience at the misfortunes of an enemy。
The telegram； dated the day before； ran thus 〃Frightful explosion New
Colliery this morning； great loss of life feared。〃
Scorrier had the bewildered thought： 'Pippin will want me now。'
He took leave of his host； who called after him： 〃You'd better wait
for a steamer！ It's a beastly drive！〃
Scorrier shook his head。 All night； jolting along a rough track cut
through the forest； he thought of Pippin。 The other miseries of this
calamity at present left him cold； he barely thought of the smothered
men； but Pippin's struggle； his lonely struggle with this hydra…
headed monster； touched him very nearly。 He fell asleep and dreamed
of watching Pippin slowly strangled by a snake； the agonised； kindly；
ironic face peeping out between two gleaming coils was so horribly
real； that he awoke。 It was the moment before dawn： pitch…black
branches barred the sky； with every jolt of the wheels the gleams
from the lamps danced； fantastic and intrusive； round ferns and tree…
stems； into the cold heart of the forest。 For an hour or more
Scorrier tried to feign sleep； and hide from the stillness； and
overmastering gloom of these great woods。 Then softly a whisper of
noises stole forth； a stir of light； and the whole slow radiance of
the morning glory。 But it brought no warmth； and Scorrier wrapped
himself closer in his cloak； feeling as though old age had touched
him。
Close on noon he reached the township。 Glamour seemed still to hover
over it。 He drove on to the mine。 The winding…engine was turning；
the pulley at the top of the head…gear whizzing round； nothing looked
unusual。 'Some mistake！' he thought。 He drove to the mine
buildings； alighted； and climbed to the shaft head。 Instead of the
usual rumbling of the trolleys； the rattle of coal discharged over
the screens； there was silence。 Close by； Pippin himself was
standing； smirched with dirt。 The cage； coming swift and silent from
below； shot open its doors with a sharp rattle。 Scorrier bent
forward to look。 There lay a dead man； with a smile on his face。
〃How many？〃 he whispered。
Pippin answered： 〃Eighty…four brought upforty…seven still below；〃
and entered the man's name in a pocket…book。
An older man was taken out next； he too was smilingthere had been
vouchsafed to him； it seemed； a taste of more than earthly joy。 The
sight of those strange smiles affected Scorrier more than all the
anguish or despair he had seen scored on the faces of other dead men。
He asked an old miner how long Pippin had been at work。
〃Thirty hours。 Yesterday he wer' below； we had to nigh carry mun up
at last。 He's for goin' down again； but the chaps won't lower mun；〃
the old man gave a sigh。 〃I'm waiting for my boy to come up； I am。〃
Scorrier waited toothere was fascination about those dead； smiling
faces。 The rescuing of these men who would never again breathe went
on and on。 Scorrier grew sleepy in the sun。 The old miner woke him；
saying： 〃Rummy stuff this here chokedamp； see； they all dies drunk！〃
The very next to be brought up was the chief engineer。 Scorrier had
known him quite well； one of those Scotsmen who are born at the age
of forty and remain so all their lives。 His facethe only one that
wore no smileseemed grieving that duty had deprived it of that last
luxury。 With wide eyes and drawn lips he had died protesting。
Late in the afternoon the old miner touched Scorrier's arm； and said：
〃There he isthere's my boy！〃 And he departed slowly； wheeling the
body on a trolley。
As the sun set； the gang below came up。 No further search was
possible till the fumes had cleared。 Scorrier heard one man say：
〃There's some we'll never get； they've had sure burial〃
Another answered him： 〃'Tis a gude enough bag for me！〃 They passed
him； the whites of their eyes gleaming out of faces black as ink。
Pippin drove him home at a furious pace； not uttering a single word。
As they turned into the main street； a young woman starting out
before the horses obliged Pippin to pull up。 The glance he bent on
Scorrier was ludicrously prescient of suffering。 The woman asked for
her husband。 Several times they were stopped thus by women asking
for their husbands or sons。 〃This is what I have to go through；〃
Pippin whispered。
When they had eaten； he said to Scorrier： 〃It was kind of you to come
and stand by me！ They take me for a god； poor creature that I am。
But shall I ever get the men down again？ Their nerve's shaken。 I
wish I were one of those poor lads； to die with a smile like that！〃
Scorrier felt the futility of his presence。 On Pippin alone must be
the heat and burden。 Would he stand under it； or would the whole
thing come crashing to the ground？ He urged him again and again to
rest； but Pippin only gave him one of his queer smiles。 〃You don't
know how strong I am！〃 he said。
IV
He himself slept heavily； and； waking at dawn； went down。 Pippin was
still at his desk； his pen had dropped； he was asleep。 The ink was
wet； Scorrier's eye caught the opening words：
〃GENTLEMEN；Since this happened I have not slept。。。。〃
He stole away again with a sense of indignation that no one could be
dragged in to share that fight。 The London Board…room rose before
h