章节正文
sufficed to show me that the way to the cave was open. The
hidden turnstile in the right wall stood ajar; I entered, and
carelessly swung it behind me. The gates clashed into place
with a finality which told me that they were firmly shut. I did
not know the secret of them, so how should I get out again?
These things troubled me less than the fact that I had no
light at all now. I had to go on my knees to ascend the stair,
and I could feel that the steps were wet. It must be Laputa's blood.
Next I was out on the gallery which skirted the chasm. The
sky above me was growing pale with dawn, and far below the
tossing waters were fretted with light. A light fragrant wind
was blowing on the hills, and a breath of it came down the
funnel. I saw that my hands were all bloody with the stains on
the steps, and I rubbed them on the rock to clean them.
Without a tremor I crossed the stone slab over the gorge, and
plunged into the dark alley which led to the inner chamber.
As before, there was a light in front of me, but this time it
was a pin-point and not the glare of many torches. I felt my
way carefully by the walls of the passage, though I did not
really fear anything. It was by the stopping of these lateral
walls that I knew I was in the cave, for the place had only one
single speck of light. The falling wall of water stood out grey
green and ghostly on the left, and I noticed that higher up it
was lit as if from the open air. There must be a great funnel in
the hillside in that direction. I walked a few paces, and then I
made out that the spark in front was a lantern.
My eyes were getting used to the half-light, and I saw what
was beside the lantern. Laputa knelt on the ashes of the fire
which the Keeper had kindled three days before. He knelt
before, and half leaned on, a rude altar of stone. The lantern
stood by him on the floor, and its faint circle lit something
which I was not unprepared for. Blood was welling from his
side, and spreading in a dark pool over the ashes.
I had no fear, only a great pity - pity for lost romance, for
vain endeavour, for fruitless courage. 'Greeting, Inkulu!' I
said in Kaffir, as if I had been one of his indunas.
He turned his head and slowly and painfully rose to his feet.
The place, it was clear, was lit from without, and the daylight
was growing. The wall of the river had become a sheet of
jewels, passing from pellucid diamond above to translucent
emerald below. A dusky twilight sought out the extreme
corners of the cave. Laputa's tall figure stood swaying above
the white ashes, his hand pressed to his side.
'Who is it?' he said, looking at me with blind eyes.
'It is the storekeeper from Umvelos',' I answered.
'The storekeeper of Umvelos',' he repeated. 'God has used
the weak things of the world to confound the strong. A king
dies because a pedlar is troublesome. What do they call you,
man? You deserve to be remembered.'
I told him 'David Crawfurd.'
'Crawfurd,' he repeated, 'you have been the little reef on
which a great vessel has foundered. You stole the collar and
cut me off from my people, and then when I was weary the
Portuguese killed me.'
'No,' I cried, 'it was not me. You trusted Henriques, and
you got your fingers on his neck too late. Don't say I didn't
warn you.'
'You warned me, and I will repay you. I will make you rich,
Crawfurd. You are a trader, and want money. I am a king,
and want a throne. But I am dying, and there will be no more
kings in Africa.'
The mention of riches did not thrill me as I had expected,
but the last words awakened a wild regret. I was hypnotized
by the man. To see him going out was like seeing the fall of a
great mountain.
He stretched himself, gasping, and in the growing light I
could see how broken he was. His cheeks were falling in, and
his sombre eyes had shrunk back in their sockets. He seemed
an old worn man standing there among the ashes, while the
blood, which he made no effort to staunch, trickled down his
side till it dripped on the floor. He had ceased to be the Kaffir
king, or the Christian minister, or indeed any one of his former
parts. Death was stripping him to his elements, and the man
Laputa stood out beyond and above the characters he had
played, something strange, and great, and moving, and terrible.
'We met for the first time three days ago,' he said, 'and now
you will be the last to see the Inkulu.'
'Umvelos' was not our first meeting,' said I. 'Do you mind
the Sabbath eight years since when you preached in the Free
Kirk at Kirkcaple? I was the boy you chased from the shore,
and I flung the stone that blacked your eye. Besides, I came
out from England with you and Henriques, and I was in the
boat which took you from Durban to Delagoa Bay. You and I
have been long acquaint, Mr Laputa.'
'It is the hand of God,' he said solemnly. 'Your fate has been
twisted with mine, and now you will die with me.'
I did not understand this talk about dying. I was not
mortally wounded like him, and I did not think Laputa had
the strength to kill me even if he wished. But my mind was so
impassive that I scarcely regarded his words.
'I will make you rich,' he cried. 'Crawfurd, the storekeeper,
will be the richest man in Africa. We are scattered, and our
wealth is another's. He shall have the gold and the diamonds -
all but the Collar, which goes with me.'
He staggered into a dark recess, one of many in the cave,
and I followed him. There were boxes there, tea chests,
cartridge cases, and old brass-ribbed Portuguese coffers.
Laputa had keys at his belt, and unlocked them, his fingers
fumbling with weakness. I peered in and saw gold coin and
little bags of stones.
'Money and diamonds,' he cried. 'Once it was the war chest
of a king, and now it will be the hoard of a trader. No, by the
Lord! The trader's place is with the Terrible Ones.' An arm
shot out, and my shoulder was fiercely gripped.
'You stole my horse. That is why I am dying. But for you I
and my army would be over the Olifants. I am going to kill
you, Crawfurd,' and his fingers closed in to my shoulder blades.
Still I was unperturbed. 'No, you are not. You cannot. You
have tried to and failed. So did Henriques, and he is lying
dead outside. I am in God's keeping, and cannot die before
my time.'
I do not know if he heard me, but at any rate the murderous
fit passed. His hand fell to his side and his great figure tottered
out into the cave. He seemed to be making for the river, but
he turned and went through the door I had entered by. I heard
him slipping in the passage, and then there was a minute of
silence.
Suddenly there came a grinding sound, followed by the kind
of muffled splash which a stone makes when it falls into a deep
well. I thought Laputa had fallen into the chasm, but when I
reached the door his swaying figure was coming out of the
corridor. Then I knew what he had done. He had used the
remnant of his giant strength to break down the bridge of stone
across the gorge, and so cut off my retreat.
I really did not care. Even if I had got over the bridge I
should probably have been foiled by the shut turnstile. I had
quite forgotten the meaning of fear of death.
I found myself giving my arm to the man who had tried to
destroy me.
'I have laid up for you treasure in heaven,' he said. 'Your
earthly treasure is in the boxes, but soon you will be seeking
incorruptible jewels in the deep deep water. It is cool and quiet
down there, and you forget the hunger and pain.'
The man was getting very near his end. The madness of
despair came back to him, and he flung himself among the ashes.
'We are going to die together, Crawfurd,' he said. 'God has
twined our threads, and there will be only one cutting. Tell
me what has become of my army.'
'Arcoll has guns on the Wolkberg,' I said. 'They must
submit or perish.'
'I have other armies ... No, no, they are nothing. They
will all wander and blunder and fight and be beaten. There is
no leader anywhere ... And I am dying.'
There was no gainsaying the signs of death. I asked him if
he would like water, but he made no answer. His eyes were
fixed on vacancy, and I thought I could realize something of
the bitterness of that great regret. For myself I was as cold as
a stone. I had no exultation of triumph, still less any fear of
my own fate. I stood silent, the half-remorseful spectator of a
fall like the fall of Lucifer.
'I would have taught the world wisdom.' Laputa was speaking
English in a strange, thin, abstracted voice. 'There would
have been no king like me since Charlemagne,' and he strayed
into Latin which I have been told since was an adaptation of the
Epitaph of Charles the Great. 'Sub hoc conditorio,' he crooned,
'situm est corpus Joannis, magni et orthodoxi Imperatoris, qui
imperium Africanum nobiliter ampliavit, et multos
per annos mundum feliciter rexit.'* He must have chosen this
epitaph long ago.
*'Under this stone is laid the body of John, the
great and orthodox Emperor, who nobly enlarged the
African realm, and for many years happily ruled
the world.'
He lay for a few seconds with his head on his arms, his
breast heaving with agony.
'No one will come after me. My race is doomed, and in a
little they will have forgotten my name. I alone could have
saved them. Now they go the way of the rest, and the warriors
of John become drudges and slaves.'
Something clicked in his throat, he gasped and fell forward,
and I thought he was dead. Then he struggled as if to rise. I
ran to him, and with all my strength aided him to his feet.
'Unarm, Eros,' he cried. 'The long day's task is done.' With
the strange power of a dying man he tore off his leopard-skin
and belt till he stood stark as on the night when he had been
crowned. From his pouch he took the Prester's Collar. Then
he staggered to the brink of the chasm where the wall of green
water dropped into the dark depth below.
I watched, fascinated, as with the weak hands of a child he
twined the rubies round his neck and joined the clasp. Then
with a last effort he stood straight up on the brink, his eyes
raised to the belt of daylight from which the water fell. The
light caught the great gems and called fires from them, the
flames of the funeral pyre of a king.
Once more his voice, restored for a moment to its old vigour,
rang out through the cave above the din of the cascade. His
words were those which the Keeper had used three nights
before. With his hands held high and the Collar burning on
his neck he cried, 'The Snake returns to the House of its Birth.'
'Come,' he cried to me. 'The Heir of John is going home.'
Then he leapt into the gulf. There was no sound of falling,
so great was the rush of water. He must have been whirled
into the open below where the bridge used to be, and then
swept into the underground deeps, where the Labongo
drowses for thirty miles. Far from human quest he sleeps his
last sleep, and perhaps on a fragment of bone washed into a
crevice of rock there may hang the jewels that once gleamed in
Sheba's hair.
CHAPTER XXI
I CLIMB THE CRAGS A SECOND TIME
I remember that I looked over the brink into the yeasty
hidden turnstile in the right wall stood ajar; I entered, and
carelessly swung it behind me. The gates clashed into place
with a finality which told me that they were firmly shut. I did
not know the secret of them, so how should I get out again?
These things troubled me less than the fact that I had no
light at all now. I had to go on my knees to ascend the stair,
and I could feel that the steps were wet. It must be Laputa's blood.
Next I was out on the gallery which skirted the chasm. The
sky above me was growing pale with dawn, and far below the
tossing waters were fretted with light. A light fragrant wind
was blowing on the hills, and a breath of it came down the
funnel. I saw that my hands were all bloody with the stains on
the steps, and I rubbed them on the rock to clean them.
Without a tremor I crossed the stone slab over the gorge, and
plunged into the dark alley which led to the inner chamber.
As before, there was a light in front of me, but this time it
was a pin-point and not the glare of many torches. I felt my
way carefully by the walls of the passage, though I did not
really fear anything. It was by the stopping of these lateral
walls that I knew I was in the cave, for the place had only one
single speck of light. The falling wall of water stood out grey
green and ghostly on the left, and I noticed that higher up it
was lit as if from the open air. There must be a great funnel in
the hillside in that direction. I walked a few paces, and then I
made out that the spark in front was a lantern.
My eyes were getting used to the half-light, and I saw what
was beside the lantern. Laputa knelt on the ashes of the fire
which the Keeper had kindled three days before. He knelt
before, and half leaned on, a rude altar of stone. The lantern
stood by him on the floor, and its faint circle lit something
which I was not unprepared for. Blood was welling from his
side, and spreading in a dark pool over the ashes.
I had no fear, only a great pity - pity for lost romance, for
vain endeavour, for fruitless courage. 'Greeting, Inkulu!' I
said in Kaffir, as if I had been one of his indunas.
He turned his head and slowly and painfully rose to his feet.
The place, it was clear, was lit from without, and the daylight
was growing. The wall of the river had become a sheet of
jewels, passing from pellucid diamond above to translucent
emerald below. A dusky twilight sought out the extreme
corners of the cave. Laputa's tall figure stood swaying above
the white ashes, his hand pressed to his side.
'Who is it?' he said, looking at me with blind eyes.
'It is the storekeeper from Umvelos',' I answered.
'The storekeeper of Umvelos',' he repeated. 'God has used
the weak things of the world to confound the strong. A king
dies because a pedlar is troublesome. What do they call you,
man? You deserve to be remembered.'
I told him 'David Crawfurd.'
'Crawfurd,' he repeated, 'you have been the little reef on
which a great vessel has foundered. You stole the collar and
cut me off from my people, and then when I was weary the
Portuguese killed me.'
'No,' I cried, 'it was not me. You trusted Henriques, and
you got your fingers on his neck too late. Don't say I didn't
warn you.'
'You warned me, and I will repay you. I will make you rich,
Crawfurd. You are a trader, and want money. I am a king,
and want a throne. But I am dying, and there will be no more
kings in Africa.'
The mention of riches did not thrill me as I had expected,
but the last words awakened a wild regret. I was hypnotized
by the man. To see him going out was like seeing the fall of a
great mountain.
He stretched himself, gasping, and in the growing light I
could see how broken he was. His cheeks were falling in, and
his sombre eyes had shrunk back in their sockets. He seemed
an old worn man standing there among the ashes, while the
blood, which he made no effort to staunch, trickled down his
side till it dripped on the floor. He had ceased to be the Kaffir
king, or the Christian minister, or indeed any one of his former
parts. Death was stripping him to his elements, and the man
Laputa stood out beyond and above the characters he had
played, something strange, and great, and moving, and terrible.
'We met for the first time three days ago,' he said, 'and now
you will be the last to see the Inkulu.'
'Umvelos' was not our first meeting,' said I. 'Do you mind
the Sabbath eight years since when you preached in the Free
Kirk at Kirkcaple? I was the boy you chased from the shore,
and I flung the stone that blacked your eye. Besides, I came
out from England with you and Henriques, and I was in the
boat which took you from Durban to Delagoa Bay. You and I
have been long acquaint, Mr Laputa.'
'It is the hand of God,' he said solemnly. 'Your fate has been
twisted with mine, and now you will die with me.'
I did not understand this talk about dying. I was not
mortally wounded like him, and I did not think Laputa had
the strength to kill me even if he wished. But my mind was so
impassive that I scarcely regarded his words.
'I will make you rich,' he cried. 'Crawfurd, the storekeeper,
will be the richest man in Africa. We are scattered, and our
wealth is another's. He shall have the gold and the diamonds -
all but the Collar, which goes with me.'
He staggered into a dark recess, one of many in the cave,
and I followed him. There were boxes there, tea chests,
cartridge cases, and old brass-ribbed Portuguese coffers.
Laputa had keys at his belt, and unlocked them, his fingers
fumbling with weakness. I peered in and saw gold coin and
little bags of stones.
'Money and diamonds,' he cried. 'Once it was the war chest
of a king, and now it will be the hoard of a trader. No, by the
Lord! The trader's place is with the Terrible Ones.' An arm
shot out, and my shoulder was fiercely gripped.
'You stole my horse. That is why I am dying. But for you I
and my army would be over the Olifants. I am going to kill
you, Crawfurd,' and his fingers closed in to my shoulder blades.
Still I was unperturbed. 'No, you are not. You cannot. You
have tried to and failed. So did Henriques, and he is lying
dead outside. I am in God's keeping, and cannot die before
my time.'
I do not know if he heard me, but at any rate the murderous
fit passed. His hand fell to his side and his great figure tottered
out into the cave. He seemed to be making for the river, but
he turned and went through the door I had entered by. I heard
him slipping in the passage, and then there was a minute of
silence.
Suddenly there came a grinding sound, followed by the kind
of muffled splash which a stone makes when it falls into a deep
well. I thought Laputa had fallen into the chasm, but when I
reached the door his swaying figure was coming out of the
corridor. Then I knew what he had done. He had used the
remnant of his giant strength to break down the bridge of stone
across the gorge, and so cut off my retreat.
I really did not care. Even if I had got over the bridge I
should probably have been foiled by the shut turnstile. I had
quite forgotten the meaning of fear of death.
I found myself giving my arm to the man who had tried to
destroy me.
'I have laid up for you treasure in heaven,' he said. 'Your
earthly treasure is in the boxes, but soon you will be seeking
incorruptible jewels in the deep deep water. It is cool and quiet
down there, and you forget the hunger and pain.'
The man was getting very near his end. The madness of
despair came back to him, and he flung himself among the ashes.
'We are going to die together, Crawfurd,' he said. 'God has
twined our threads, and there will be only one cutting. Tell
me what has become of my army.'
'Arcoll has guns on the Wolkberg,' I said. 'They must
submit or perish.'
'I have other armies ... No, no, they are nothing. They
will all wander and blunder and fight and be beaten. There is
no leader anywhere ... And I am dying.'
There was no gainsaying the signs of death. I asked him if
he would like water, but he made no answer. His eyes were
fixed on vacancy, and I thought I could realize something of
the bitterness of that great regret. For myself I was as cold as
a stone. I had no exultation of triumph, still less any fear of
my own fate. I stood silent, the half-remorseful spectator of a
fall like the fall of Lucifer.
'I would have taught the world wisdom.' Laputa was speaking
English in a strange, thin, abstracted voice. 'There would
have been no king like me since Charlemagne,' and he strayed
into Latin which I have been told since was an adaptation of the
Epitaph of Charles the Great. 'Sub hoc conditorio,' he crooned,
'situm est corpus Joannis, magni et orthodoxi Imperatoris, qui
imperium Africanum nobiliter ampliavit, et multos
per annos mundum feliciter rexit.'* He must have chosen this
epitaph long ago.
*'Under this stone is laid the body of John, the
great and orthodox Emperor, who nobly enlarged the
African realm, and for many years happily ruled
the world.'
He lay for a few seconds with his head on his arms, his
breast heaving with agony.
'No one will come after me. My race is doomed, and in a
little they will have forgotten my name. I alone could have
saved them. Now they go the way of the rest, and the warriors
of John become drudges and slaves.'
Something clicked in his throat, he gasped and fell forward,
and I thought he was dead. Then he struggled as if to rise. I
ran to him, and with all my strength aided him to his feet.
'Unarm, Eros,' he cried. 'The long day's task is done.' With
the strange power of a dying man he tore off his leopard-skin
and belt till he stood stark as on the night when he had been
crowned. From his pouch he took the Prester's Collar. Then
he staggered to the brink of the chasm where the wall of green
water dropped into the dark depth below.
I watched, fascinated, as with the weak hands of a child he
twined the rubies round his neck and joined the clasp. Then
with a last effort he stood straight up on the brink, his eyes
raised to the belt of daylight from which the water fell. The
light caught the great gems and called fires from them, the
flames of the funeral pyre of a king.
Once more his voice, restored for a moment to its old vigour,
rang out through the cave above the din of the cascade. His
words were those which the Keeper had used three nights
before. With his hands held high and the Collar burning on
his neck he cried, 'The Snake returns to the House of its Birth.'
'Come,' he cried to me. 'The Heir of John is going home.'
Then he leapt into the gulf. There was no sound of falling,
so great was the rush of water. He must have been whirled
into the open below where the bridge used to be, and then
swept into the underground deeps, where the Labongo
drowses for thirty miles. Far from human quest he sleeps his
last sleep, and perhaps on a fragment of bone washed into a
crevice of rock there may hang the jewels that once gleamed in
Sheba's hair.
CHAPTER XXI
I CLIMB THE CRAGS A SECOND TIME
I remember that I looked over the brink into the yeasty
- firmly [´fə:mli]
ad.坚固地，稳定地 (初中英语单词) - ascend [ə´send] v.登；上升；追溯 (初中英语单词)
- gallery [´gæləri] n.画廊；美术馆；长廊 (初中英语单词)
- breath [breθ] n.呼吸；气息 (初中英语单词)
- bloody [´blʌdi] a.(流)血的；血腥的 (初中英语单词)
- hillside [´hilsaid] n.山腰 (初中英语单词)
- keeper [´ki:pə] n.管理人；看守；保管人 (初中英语单词)
- circle [´sə:kəl] n.圆圈 v.环绕；盘旋 (初中英语单词)
- romance [rəu´mæns] n.中世纪骑士小说 (初中英语单词)
- endeavour [in´devə] n.&v.努力，试图，尽力 (初中英语单词)
- twilight [´twailait] n.黎明；黄昏 (初中英语单词)
- deserve [di´zə:v] v.应受；值得 (初中英语单词)
- vessel [´vesəl] n.容器；船；脉管 (初中英语单词)
- collar [´kɔlə] n.衣领；(狗等的)项圈 (初中英语单词)
- riches [´ritʃiz] n.房地产；丰富 (初中英语单词)
- thrill [θril] v.震惊；激动；刺激 (初中英语单词)
- standing [´stændiŋ] n.持续 a.直立的 (初中英语单词)
- minister [´ministə] n.部长；大臣 v.伺候 (初中英语单词)
- acquaint [ə´kweint] vt.使....认识；告知 (初中英语单词)
- weakness [´wi:knis] n.虚弱；弱点，缺点 (初中英语单词)
- fiercely [´fiəsli] ad.凶猛地，残忍地 (初中英语单词)
- splash [splæʃ] v.&n.溅水声；涉水而进 (初中英语单词)
- hunger [´hʌŋgə] n.饥饿；渴望 (初中英语单词)
- wander [´wɔndə, ´wɑ:n:dər] v.徘徊；流浪 (初中英语单词)
- beaten [´bi:tn] beat 的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- anywhere [´eniweə] ad.无论何处；任何地方 (初中英语单词)
- triumph [´traiəmf] n.胜利 vi.得胜，战胜 (初中英语单词)
- emperor [´empərə] n.皇帝 (初中英语单词)
- throat [θrəut] n.咽喉；嗓子；出入口 (初中英语单词)
- daylight [´deilait] n.日光；黎明 (初中英语单词)
- funeral [´fju:nərəl] n.葬礼，丧葬；困难 (初中英语单词)
- fragment [´frægmənt] n.碎片；破片；断片 (初中英语单词)
- fragrant [´freigrənt] a.芳香的，芬芳的 (高中英语单词)
- lantern [´læntən] n.灯笼；提灯 (高中英语单词)
- repeated [ri´pi:tid] a.反复的；重复的 (高中英语单词)
- confound [kən´faund] v.混淆；使惊惶 (高中英语单词)
- trader [´treidə] n.商人；商船 (高中英语单词)
- throne [θrəun] n.宝座；王位 (高中英语单词)
- seeing [si:iŋ] see的现在分词 n.视觉 (高中英语单词)
- solemnly [´sɔləmli] ad.严肃地，庄严地 (高中英语单词)
- recess [ri´ses] n.休息；休会 (高中英语单词)
- madness [´mædnis] n.疯狂；狂热 (高中英语单词)
- blunder [´blʌndə] n.&v.(犯)大错；疏忽 (高中英语单词)
- vacancy [´veikənsi] n.空缺；空间；空虚 (高中英语单词)
- bitterness [´bitənis] n.苦味；辛酸；苦难 (高中英语单词)
- spectator [spek´teitə] n.观众，旁观者 (高中英语单词)
- underground [,ʌndə´graund] ad.&a.地下(的) (高中英语单词)
- painfully [´peinfuli] ad.痛苦地；费力地 (英语四级单词)
- sabbath [´sæbəθ] n.安息日 (英语四级单词)
- portuguese [,pɔ:tʃu´gi:z] a.葡萄牙的 n.葡萄牙人 (英语四级单词)
- bridge [bridʒ] n.桥(梁)；鼻梁；桥牌 (英语四级单词)
- adaptation [ædæp´teiʃən] n.适应；改写(本) (英语四级单词)
- cascade [kæ´skeid] n.小瀑布；喷流 (英语四级单词)
- ghostly [´gəustli] a.鬼的；朦胧的 (英语六级单词)
- funnel [´fʌnəl] n.漏斗；通气道 v.集中 (英语六级单词)
- pedlar [´pedlə] n.小贩；(谣言)传播者 (英语六级单词)
- exultation [egzʌl´teiʃən] n.欢腾，狂欢 (英语六级单词)
- orthodox [´ɔ:θədɔks] a.正统的；正统的；习惯的 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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