From that day forward Will was full of new hopes and longings.
Something kept tugging at his heart-strings; the running water

carried his desires along with it as he dreamed over its fleeting
surface; the wind, as it ran over innumerable tree-tops, hailed him

with encouraging words; branches beckoned downward; the open road,
as it shouldered round the angles and went turning and vanishing

fast and faster down the valley, tortured him with its
solicitations. He spent long whiles on the eminence, looking down

the rivershed and abroad on the fat lowlands, and watched the
clouds that travelled forth upon the sluggish wind and trailed

their purple shadows on the plain; or he would linger by the
wayside, and follow the carriages with his eyes as they rattled

downward by the river. It did not matter what it was; everything
that went that way, were it cloud or carriage, bird or brown water

in the stream, he felt his heart flow out after it in an ecstasy of
longing.

We are told by men of science that all the ventures of mariners on
the sea, all that counter-marching of tribes and races that

confounds old history with its dust and rumour, sprang from nothing
more abstruse than the laws of supply and demand, and a certain

natural instinct for cheap rations. To any one thinking deeply,
this will seem a dull and pitifulexplanation. The tribes that

came swarming out of the North and East, if they were indeed
pressed onward from behind by others, were drawn at the same time

by the magnetic influence of the South and West. The fame of other
lands had reached them; the name of the eternal city rang in their

ears; they were not colonists, but pilgrims; they travelled towards
wine and gold and sunshine, but their hearts were set on something

higher. That divineunrest, that old stinging trouble of humanity
that makes all high achievements and all miserablefailure, the

same that spread wings with Icarus, the same that sent Columbus
into the desolate Atlantic, inspired and supported these barbarians

on their perilous march. There is one legend which profoundly
represents their spirit, of how a flying party of these wanderers

encountered a very old man shod with iron. The old man asked them
whither they were going; and they answered with one voice: 'To the

Eternal City!' He looked upon them gravely. 'I have sought it,'
he said, 'over the most part of the world. Three such pairs as I

now carry on my feet have I worn out upon this pilgrimage, and now
the fourth is growing slenderunderneath my steps. And all this

while I have not found the city.' And he turned and went his own
way alone, leaving them astonished.

And yet this would scarcely parallel the intensity of Will's
feeling for the plain. If he could only go far enough out there,

he felt as if his eyesight would be purged and clarified, as if his
hearing would grow more delicate, and his very breath would come

and go with luxury. He was transplanted and withering where he
was; he lay in a strange country and was sick for home. Bit by

bit, he pieced together broken notions of the world below: of the
river, ever moving and growing until it sailed forth into the

majestic ocean; of the cities, full of brisk and beautiful people,
playing fountains, bands of music and marble palaces, and lighted

up at night from end to end with artificial stars of gold; of the
great churches, wise universities, brave armies, and untold money

lying stored in vaults; of the high-flying vice that moved in the
sunshine, and the stealth and swiftness of midnight murder. I have

said he was sick as if for home: the figure halts. He was like
some one lying in twilit, formless preexistence, and stretching out

his hands lovingly towards many-coloured, many-sounding life. It
was no wonder he was unhappy, he would go and tell the fish: they

were made for their life, wished for no more than worms and running
water, and a hole below a falling bank; but he was differently

designed, full of desires and aspirations, itching at the fingers,
lusting with the eyes, whom the whole variegated world could not

satisfy with aspects. The true life, the true bright sunshine, lay
far out upon the plain. And O! to see this sunlight once before he

died! to move with a jocund spirit in a golden land! to hear the
trained singers and sweet church bells, and see the holiday

gardens! 'And O fish!' he would cry, 'if you would only turn your
noses down stream, you could swim so easily into the fabled waters

and see the vast ships passing over your head like clouds, and hear
the great water-hills making music over you all day long!' But the

fish kept looking patiently in their own direction, until Will
hardly knew whether to laugh or cry.

Hitherto the traffic on the road had passed by Will, like something
seen in a picture: he had perhaps exchanged salutations with a

tourist, or caught sight of an old gentleman in a travelling cap at
a carriage window; but for the most part it had been a mere symbol,

which he contemplated from apart and with something of a
superstitious feeling. A time came at last when this was to be

changed. The miller, who was a greedy man in his way, and never
forewent an opportunity of honest profit, turned the mill-house

into a little wayside inn, and, several pieces of good fortune
falling in opportunely, built stables and got the position of post

master on the road. It now became Will's duty to wait upon people,
as they sat to break their fasts in the little arbour at the top of

the mill garden; and you may be sure that he kept his ears open,
and learned many new things about the outside world as he brought

the omelette or the wine. Nay, he would often get into
conversation with single guests, and by adroit questions and polite

attention, not only gratify his own curiosity, but win the goodwill
of the travellers. Many complimented the old couple on their

serving-boy; and a professor was eager to take him away with him,
and have him properly educated in the plain. The miller and his

wife were mightily astonished and even more pleased. They thought
it a very good thing that they should have opened their inn. 'You

see,' the old man would remark, 'he has a kind of talent for a
publican; he never would have made anything else!' And so life

wagged on in the valley, with high satisfaction to all concerned
but Will. Every carriage that left the inn-door seemed to take a

part of him away with it; and when people jestingly offered him a
lift, he could with difficulty command his motion" target="_blank" title="n.感情；情绪；激动">emotion. Night after

night he would dream that he was awakened by flustered servants,
and that a splendid equipage waited at the door to carry him down

into the plain; night after night; until the dream, which had
seemed all jollity to him at first, began to take on a colour of

gravity, and the nocturnal summons and waiting equipage occupied a
place in his mind as something to be both feared and hoped for.

One day, when Will was about sixteen, a fat young man arrived at
sunset to pass the night. He was a contented-looking fellow, with

a jolly eye, and carried a knapsack. While dinner was preparing,
he sat in the arbour to read a book; but as soon as he had begun to

observe Will, the book was laid aside; he was plainly one of those
who prefer living people to people made of ink and paper. Will, on

his part, although he had not been much interested in the stranger
at first sight, soon began to take a great deal of pleasure in his

talk, which was full of good nature and good sense, and at last
conceived a great respect for his character and wisdom. They sat

far into the night; and about two in the morning Will opened his
heart to the young man, and told him how he longed to leave the

valley and what bright hopes he had connected with the cities of
the plain. The young man whistled, and then broke into a smile.

'My young friend,' he remarked, 'you are a very curious little
fellow to be sure, and wish a great many things which you will

never get. Why, you would feel quite ashamed if you knew how the
little fellows in these fairy cities of yours are all after the

same sort of nonsense, and keep breaking their hearts to get up
into the mountains. And let me tell you, those who go down into

the plains are a very short while there before they wish themselves