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The Scapegoat-Part17_Hall Caine(1853-1931)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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When he saw this his heart was humbled; but he understood her fears,



that, coming out of a land of great silence, where the voice

of man was never heard, where the air was songless as the air



of dreams and darkling as the air of a tomb, her soul misgave her,

and her spirit trembled in a new world of strange sounds.



For what was the ear but a little dark chamber, a vault, a dungeon

in a castle, wherein the soul was ever passing to and fro, asking



for news of the world without? Through seventeen dark and silent years

the soul of Naomi had been passing and repassing within



its beautiful tabernacle of flesh, crying daily and hourly,

"Watchman, what of the world?" At length it had found an answer,



and it was terrified. The world had spoken to her soul and its voice

was like the reverberations of a subterranean cavern, strange and deep



and awful.

In that first moment of Israel's consciousness after he entered the room,



all four black folks seemed to be speaking together.

Ali was saying, "Father, those dogs and thieves of tentmen and muleteers



returned yesterday, and said--"

And the bondwomen were crying, "Sidi, you were right when you went away!"



"Yes, the dear child was ill!" "Oh, how she missed you

when you were gone." "She has been delirious, and the doctor,



the son of Tetuan--"

And the old Taleb was muttering, "Master, it is all by God's mercy.



We prayed for the life of the maiden, and lo! He has given us

this gateway to her spirit as well."



Then Israel saw that as their voices entered the dark vault

of Naomi's ears they startled and distressed her. So, to pacify her,



he motioned them out of the chamber. They went away without a word.

The reason of Naomi's fears began to dawn upon them. An awe seemed



to be cast over her by the solemnity of that great moment. It was like

to the birth-moment of a soul.



And when the black people were gone from the room, Israel closed the door

of it that he might shut out the noises of the streets, for women were



calling to their children without, and the children were still shouting

in their play. This being done, he returned to Naomi and rested her head



against his bosom and soothed her with his hand, and she put her arms

about his neck and clung to him. And while he did so his heart yearned



to speak to her, and to see by her face that she could hear.

Let it be but one word, only one, that she might know her father's



voice--for she had never once heard it--and answer it with a smile.

"Daughter! My dearest! My darling."



Only this, nothing more! Only one sweet word of all the unspoken

tenderness which, like a river without any outlet, had been



seventeen years dammed up in his breast. But no, it could not be.

He must not speak lest her face should frown and her arms be drawn away.



To see that would break his heart. Nevertheless, he wrestled

with the temptation. It was terrible. He dared not risk it.



So he sat on the bed in silence, hardly moving, scarcely

breathing--a dust-laden man in a ragged jellab, holding Naomi



in his arms.

It was still the month of Ramadhan, and the sun was but three hours set.



In the fondak called El Oosaa, a group of the town Moors,

who had fasted through the day, were feasting and carousing.



Over the walls of the Mellah, from the direction of the Spanish inn

at the entrance to the little tortuous quarter of the shoemakers,



there came at intervals a hubbub of voices, and occasionally wild shouts

and cries. The day was Wednesday, the market-day of Tetuan, and



on the open space called the Feddan many fires were lighted

at the mouths of tents, and men and women and children--country Arabs



and Barbers--were squatting around the charcoal embers eating

and drinking and talking and laughing, while the ruddy glow lit up



their swarthy faces in the darkness. But presently the wing of night

fell over both Moorish town and Mellah; the traffic of the streets



came to an end; the "Balak" of the ass-driver was no more heard,

the slipper of the Jew sounded but rarely on the pavement,



the fires on the Feddan died out, the hubbub of the fondak and

the wild shouts of the shoemakers' quarter were hushed,



and quieter and more quiet grew the air until all was still.

At the coming of peace Naomi's fears seemed to abate. Her clinging arms



released their hold of her father's neck, and with a trembling sigh

she dropped back on to the pillow. And in this hour of stillness



she would have slept; but even while Israel was lifting up his heart

in thankfulness to God, that He was making the way of her great journey



easy out of the land of silence into the land of speech, a storm broke

over the town. Through many hot days preceding it had been gathering






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