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第6部分（第1页）

be　almost　evening。　Sasha　had　been　gone　this　hour　and　more。　Seized　instantly　with　those　dark　forebodings　which　shadowed　even　his　most　confident　thoughts　of　her；　he　plunged　the　way　he　had　seen　them　go　into　the　hold　of　the　ship；　and；　after　stumbling　among　chests　and　barrels　in　the　darkness；　was　made　aware　by　a　faint　glimmer　in　a　corner　that　they　were　seated　there。　For　one　second；　he　had　a　vision　of　them；　saw　Sasha　seated　on　the　sailor’s　knee；　saw　her　bend　towards　him；　saw　them　embrace　before　the　light　was　blotted　out　in　a　red　cloud　by　his　rage。　He　blazed　into　such　a　howl　of　anguish　that　the　whole　ship　echoed。　Sasha　threw　herself　between　them；　or　the　sailor　would　have　been　stifled　before　he　could　draw　his　cutlass。　Then　a　deadly　sickness　came　over　Orlando；　and　they　had　to　lay　him　on　the　floor　and　give　him　brandy　to　drink　before　he　revived。　And　then；　when　he　had　recovered　and　was　sat　upon　a　heap　of　sacking　on　deck；　Sasha　hung　over　him；　passing　before　his　dizzied　eyes　softly；　sinuously；　like　the　fox　that　had　bit　him；　now　cajoling；　now　denouncing；　so　that　he　came　to　doubt　what　he　had　seen。　Had　not　the　candle　guttered；　had　not　the　shadows　moved？　The　box　was　heavy；　she　said；　the　man　was　helping　her　to　move　it。　Orlando　believed　her　one　moment—for　who　can　be　sure　that　his　rage　has　not　painted　what　he　most　dreads　to　find？—the　next　was　the　more　violent　with　anger　at　her　deceit。　Then　Sasha　herself　turned　white；　stamped　her　foot　on　deck；　said　she　would　go　that　night；　and　called　upon　her　Gods　to　destroy　her；　if　she；　a　Romanovitch；　had　lain　in　the　arms　of　a　mon　seaman。　Indeed；　looking　at　them　together　（which　he　could　hardly　bring　himself　to　do）　Orlando　was　outraged　by　the　foulness　of　his　imagination　that　could　have　painted　so　frail　a　creature　in　the　paw　of　that　hairy　sea　brute。　The　man　was　huge；　stood　six　feet　four　in　his　stockings；　wore　mon　wire　rings　in　his　ears；　and　looked　like　a　dray　horse　upon　which　some　wren　or　robin　has　perched　in　its　flight。　So　he　yielded；　believed　her；　and　asked　her　pardon。　Yet　when　they　were　going　down　the　ship’s　side；　lovingly　again；　Sasha　paused　with　her　hand　on　the　ladder；　and　called　back　to　this　tawny　wide–cheeked　monster　a　volley　of　Russian　greetings；　jests；　or　endearments；　not　a　word　of　which　Orlando　could　understand。　But　there　was　something　in　her　tone　（it　might　be　the　fault　of　the　Russian　consonants）　that　reminded　Orlando　of　a　scene　some　nights　since；　when　he　had　e　upon　her　in　secret　gnawing　a　candle–end　in　a　corner；　which　she　had　picked　from　the　floor。　True；　it　was　pink；　it　was　gilt；　and　it　was　from　the　King’s　table；　but　it　was　tallow；　and　she　gnawed　it。　Was　there　not；　he　thought；　handing　her　on　to　the　ice；　something　rank　in　her；　something　coarse　flavoured；　something　peasant　born？　And　he　fancied　her　at　forty　grown　unwieldy　though　she　was　now　slim　as　a　reed；　and　lethargic　though　she　was　now　blithe　as　a　lark。　But　again　as　they　skated　towards　London　such　suspicions　melted　in　his　breast；　and　he　felt　as　if　he　had　been　hooked　by　a　great　fish　through　the　nose　and　rushed　through　the　waters　unwillingly；　yet　with　his　own　consent。

It　was　an　evening　of　astonishing　beauty。　As　the　sun　sank；　all　the　domes；　spires；　turrets；　and　pinnacles　of　London　rose　in　inky　blackness　against　the　furious　red　sunset　clouds。　Here　was　the　fretted　cross　at　Charing；　there　the　dome　of　St　Paul’s；　there　the　massy　square　of　the　Tower　buildings；　there　like　a　grove　of　trees　stripped　of　all　leaves　save　a　knob　at　the　end　were　the　heads　on　the　pikes　at　Temple　Bar。　Now　the　Abbey　windows　were　lit　up　and　burnt　like　a　heavenly；　many–coloured　shield　（in　Orlando’s　fancy）；　now　all　the　west　seemed　a　golden　window　with　troops　of　angels　（in　Orlando’s　fancy　again）　passing　up　and　down　the　heavenly　stairs　perpetually。　All　the　time　they　seemed　to　be　skating　in　fathomless　depths　of　air；　so　blue　the　ice　had　bee；　and　so　glassy　smooth　was　it　that　they　sped　quicker　and　quicker　to　the　city　with　the　white　gulls　circling　about　them；　and　cutting　in　the　air　with　their　wings　the　very　same　sweeps　that　they　cut　on　the　ice　with　their　skates。

Sasha；　as　if　to　reassure　him；　was　tenderer　than　usual　and　even　more　delightful。　Seldom　would　she　talk　about　her　past　life；　but　now　she　told　him　how；　in　winter　in　Russia；　she　would　listen　to　the　wolves　howling　across　the　steppes；　and　thrice；　to　show　him；　she　barked　like　a　wolf。　Upon　which　he　told　her　of　the　stags　in　the　snow　at　home；　and　how　they　would　stray　into　the　great　hall　for　warmth　and　be　fed　by　an　old　man　with　porridge　from　a　bucket。　And　then　she　praised　him；　for　his　love　of　beasts；　for　his　gallantry；　for　his　legs。　Ravished　with　her　praises　and　shamed　to　think　how　he　had　maligned　her　by　fancying　her　on　the　knees　of　a　mon　sailor　and　grown　fat　and　lethargic　at　forty；　he　told　her　that　he　could　find　no　words　to　praise　her；　yet　instantly　bethought　him　how　she　was　like　the　spring　and　green　grass　and　rushing　waters；　and　seizing　her　more　tightly　than　ever；　he　swung　her　with　him　half　across　the　river　so　that　the　gulls　and　the　cormorants　swung　too。　And　halting　at　length；　out　of　breath；　she　said；　panting　slightly；　that　he　was　like　a　million–candled　Christmas　tree　（such　as　they　have　in　Russia）　hung　with　yellow　globes；　incandescent；　enough　to　light　a　whole　street　by；　（so　one　might　translate　it）　for　what　with　his　glowing　cheeks；　his　dark　curls；　his　black　and　crimson　cloak；　he　looked　as　if　he　were　burning　with　his　own　radiance；　from　a　lamp　lit　within。

All　the　colour；　save　the　red　of　Orlando’s　cheeks；　soon　faded。　Night　came　on。　As　the　orange　light　of　sunset　vanished　it　was　succeeded　by　an　astonishing　white　glare　from　the　torches；　bonfires；　flaming　cressets；　and　other　devices　by　which　the　river　was　lit　up　and　the　strangest　transformation　took　place。　Various　churches　and　noblemen’s　palaces；　whose　fronts　were　of　white　stone　showed　in　streaks　and　patches　as　if　floating　on　the　air。　Of　St　Paul’s；　in　particular；　nothing　was　left　but　a　gilt　cross。　The　Abbey　appeared　like　the　grey　skeleton　of　a　leaf。　Everything　suffered　emaciation　and　transformation。　As　they　approached　the　carnival；　they　heard　a　deep　note　like　that　struck　on　a　tuning–fork　which　boomed　louder　and　louder　until　it　became　an　uproar。　Every　now　and　then　a　great　shout　followed　a　rocket　into　the　air。　Gradually　they　could　discern　little　figures　breaking　off　from　the　vast　crowd　and　spinning　hither　and　thither　like　gnats　on　the　surface　of　a　river。　Above　and　around　this　brilliant　circle　like　a　bowl　of　darkness　pressed　the　deep　black　of　a　winter’s　night。　And　then　into　this　darkness　there　began　to　rise　with　pauses；　which　kept　the　expectation　alert　and　the　mouth　open；　flowering　rockets；　crescents；　serpents；　a　crown。　At　one　moment　the　woods　and　distant　hills　showed　green　as　on　a　summer’s　day；　the　next　all　was　winter　and　blackness　again。

By　this　time　Orlando　and　the　Princess　were　close　to　the　Royal　enclosure　and　found　their　way　barred　by　a　great　crowd　of　the　mon　people；　who　were　pressing　as　near　to　the　silken　rope　as　they　dared。　Loth　to　end　their　privacy　and　encounter　the　sharp　eyes　that　were　on　the　watch　for　them；　the　couple　lingered　there；　shouldered　by　apprentices；　tailors；　fishwives；　horse　dealers；　cony　catchers；　starving　scholars；　maid–servants　in　their　whimples；　orange　girls；　ostlers；　sober　citizens；　bawdy　tapsters；　and　a　crowd　of　little　ragamuffins　such　as　always　haunt　the　outskirts　of　a　crowd；　screaming　and　scrambling　among　people’s　feet—all　the　riff–raff　of　the　London　streets　indeed　was　there；　jesting　and　jostling；　here　casting　dice；　telling　fortunes；　shoving；　tickling；　pinching；　here　uproarious；　there　glum；　some　of　them　with　mouths　gaping　a　yard　wide；　others　as　little　reverent　as　daws　on　a　house–top；　all　as　variously　rigged　out　as　their　purse　or　stations　allowed；　here　in　fur　and　broadcloth；　there　in　tatters　with　their　feet　kept　from　the　ice　only　by　a　dishclout　bound　about　them。　The　main　press　of　people；　it　appeared；　stood　opposite　a　booth　or　stage　something　like　our　Punch　and　Judy　show　upon　which　some　kind　of　theatrical　performance　was　going　forward。　A　black　man　was　waving　his　arms　and　vociferating。　There　was　a　woman　in　white　laid　upon　a　bed。　Rough　though　the　staging　was；　the　actors　running　up　and　down　a　pair　of　steps　and　sometimes　tripping；　and　the　crowd　stamping　their　feet　and　whistling；　or　when　they　were　bored；　tossing　a　piece　of　orange　peel　on　to　the　ice　which　a　dog　would　scramble　for；　still　the　astonishing；　sinuous　melody　of　the　words　stirred　Orlando　like　music。　Spoken　with　extreme　speed　and　a　daring　agility　of　tongue　which　reminded　him　of　the　sailors　singing　in　the　beer　gardens　at　Wapping；　the　words　even　without　meaning　were　as　wine　to　him。　But　now　and　again　a　single　phrase　would　e　to　him　over　the　ice　which　was　as　if　torn　from　the　depths　of　his　heart。　The　frenzy　of　the　Moor　seemed　to　him　his　own　frenzy；　and　when　the　Moor　suffocated　the　woman　in　her　bed　it　was　Sasha　he　killed　with　his　own　hands。

At　last　the　play　was　ended。　All　had　grown　dark。　The　tears　streamed　down　his　face。　Looking　up　into　the　sky　there　was　nothing　but　blackness　there　too。　Ruin　and　death；　he　thought；　cover　all。　The　life　of　man　ends　in　the　grave。　Worms　devour　us。

Methinks　it　should　be　now　a　huge　eclipse

Of　sun　and　moon；　and　that　the　affrighted　globe

Should　yawn—

Even　as　he　said　this　a　star　of　some　pallor　rose　in　his　memory。　The　night　was　dark；　it　was　pitch　dark；　but　it　was　such　a　night　as　this　that　they　had　waited　for；　it　was　on　such　a　night　as　this　that　they　had　planned　to　fly。　He　remembered　everything。　The　time　had　e。　With　a　burst　of　passion　he　snatched　Sasha　to　him；　and　hissed　in　her　ear　‘Jour　de　ma　vie！’　It　was　their　signal。　At　midnight　they　would　meet　at　an　inn　near　Blackfriars。　Horses　waited　there。　Everything　was　in　readiness　for　their　flight。　So　they　parted；　she　to　her　tent；　he　to　his。　It　still　wanted　an　hour　of　the　time。

Long　before　midnight　Orlando　was　in　waiting。　The　night　was　of　so　inky　a　blackness　that　a　man　was　on　you　before　he　could　be　seen；　which　was　all　to　the　good；　but　it　was　also　of　the　most　solemn　stillness　so　that　a　horse’s　hoof；　or　a　child’s　cry；　could　be　heard　at　a　distance　of　half　a　mile。　Many　a　time　did　Orlando；　pacing　the　little　courtyard；　hold　his　heart　at　the　sound　of　some　nag’s　steady　footfall　on　the　cobbles；　or　at　the　rustle　of　a　woman’s　dress。　But　the　traveller　was　only　some　merchant；　making　home　belated；　or　some　woman　of　the　quarter　whose　errand　was　nothing　so　innocent。　They　passed；　and　the　street　was　quieter　than　before。　Then　those　lights　which　burnt　downstairs　in　the　small；　huddled　quarters　where　the　poor　of　the　city　lived　moved　up　to　the　sleeping–rooms；　and　then；　one　by　one；　were　extinguished。　The　street　lanterns　in　these　purlieus　were　few　at　most；　and　the　negligence　of　the　night　watchman　often　suffered　them　to　expire　long　before　dawn。　The　darkness　then　became　even　deeper　than　before。　Orlando　looked　to　the　wicks　of　his　lantern；　saw　to　the　saddle　girths；　primed　his　pistols；　examined　his　holsters；　and　did　all　these　things　a　dozen　times　at　least　till　he　could　find　nothing　more　needing　his　attention。　Though　it　still　lacked　some　twenty　minutes　to　midnight；　he　could　not　bring　himself　to　go　indoors　to　the　inn　parlour；　where　the　hostess　was　still　serving　sack　and　the　cheaper　sort　of　canary　wine　to　a　few　seafaring　men；　who　would　sit　there　trolling　their　ditties；　and

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