the research magnificent-第43部分

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and　a　pitiful　gesture　with　his　arm；　and　fled　forth。　。　。　。　It　was　a　curate　and　he　was　weeping　bitterly。　。　。　。　Benham　stood　in　the　doorway　and　watched　a　clumsy　broken…hearted　flight　down　the　village　street。　He　had　been　partly　told　and　partly　left　to　infer；　and　anyhow　he　was　beginning　to　understand　about　Mr。　Rathbone…Sanders。　　That　he　could　dismiss。　　Butwhy　was　the　curate　in　tears？

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He　found　Amanda　standing　alone　in　the　room　from　which　this　young　man　had　fled。　　She　had　a　handful　of　daffodils　in　her　hand；　and　others　were　scattered　over　the　table。　　She　had　been　arranging　the　big　bowl　of　flowers　in　the　centre。　　He　left　the　door　open　behind　him　and　stopped　short　with　the　table　between　them。　　She　looked　up　at　him　intelligently　and　calmly。　　Her　pose　had　a　divine　dignity。　〃I　want　to　tell　them　now；〃　said　Benham　without　a　word　of　greeting。　〃Yes；〃　she　said；　〃tell　them　now。〃　They　heard　steps　in　the　passage　outside。　　〃Betty！〃　cried　Amanda。　Her　mother's　voice　answered；　〃Do　you　want　Betty？〃　〃We　want　you　all；〃　answered　Amanda。　　〃We　have　something　to　tell　you。　。　。　。〃　〃Carrie！〃　they　heard　Mrs。　Morris　call　her　sister　after　an　interval；　and　her　voice　sounded　faint　and　flat　and　unusual。　　There　was　the　soft　hissing　of　some　whispered　words　outside　and　a　muffled　exclamation。　　Then　Mrs。　Wilder　and　Mrs。　Morris　and　Betty　came　into　the　room。　　Mrs。　Wilder　came　first；　and　Mrs。　Morris　with　an　alarmed　face　as　if　sheltering　behind　her。　　〃We　want　to　tell　you　something；〃　said　Amanda。　〃Amanda　and　I　are　going　to　marry　each　other；〃　said　Benham；　standing　in　front　of　her。　For　an　instant　the　others　made　no　answer；　they　looked　at　each　other。　〃BUT　DOES　HE　KNOW？〃　Mrs。　Morris　said　in　a　low　voice。　Amanda　turned　her　eyes　to　her　lover。　　She　was　about　to　speak；　she　seemed　to　gather　herself　for　an　effort；　and　then　he　knew　that　he　did　not　want　to　hear　her　explanation。　　He　checked　her　by　a　gesture。　〃I　KNOW；〃　he　said；　and　then；　〃I　do　not　see　that　it　matters　to　us　in　the　least。〃　He　went　to　her　holding　out　both　his　hands　to　her。　She　took　them　and　stood　shyly　for　a　moment；　and　then　the　watchful　gravity　of　her　face　broke　into　soft　emotion。　　〃Oh！〃　she　cried　and　seized　his　face　between　her　hands　in　a　passion　of　triumphant　love　and　kissed　him。　And　then　he　found　himself　being　kissed　by　Mrs。　Morris。　She　kissed　him　thrice；　with　solemnity；　with　thankfulness；　with　relief；　as　if　in　the　act　of　kissing　she　transferred　to　him　precious　and　entirely　incalculable　treasures。

CHAPTER　THE　FOURTH　THE　SPIRITED　HONEYMOON

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It　was　a　little　after　sunrise　one　bright　morning　in　September　that　Benham　came　up　on　to　the　deck　of　the　sturdy　Austrian　steamboat　that　was　churning　its　way　with　a　sedulous　deliberation　from　Spalato　to　Cattaro；　and　lit　himself　a　cigarette　and　seated　himself　upon　a　deck　chair。　　Save　for　a　yawning　Greek　sailor　busy　with　a　mop　the　first…　class　deck　was　empty。　Benham　surveyed　the　haggard　beauty　of　the　Illyrian　coast。　　The　mountains　rose　gaunt　and　enormous　and　barren　to　a　jagged　fantastic　silhouette　against　the　sun；　their　almost　vertical　slopes　still　plunged　in　blue　shadow；　broke　only　into　a　little　cold　green　and　white　edge　of　olive　terraces　and　vegetation　and　houses　before　they　touched　the　clear　blue　water。　　An　occasional　church　or　a　house　perched　high　upon　some　seemingly　inaccessible　ledge　did　but　accentuate　the　vast　barrenness　of　the　land。　　It　was　a　land　desolated　and　destroyed。　　At　Ragusa；　at　Salona；　at　Spalato　and　Zara　and　Pola　Benham　had　seen　only　variations　upon　one　persistent　theme；　a　dwindled　and　uncreative　human　life　living　amidst　the　giant　ruins　of　preceding　times；　as　worms　live　in　the　sockets　of　a　skull。　　Forward　an　unsavoury　group　of　passengers　still　slumbered　amidst　fruit…peel　and　expectorations；　a　few　soldiers；　some　squalid　brigands　armed　with　preposterous　red　umbrellas；　a　group　of　curled…up　human　lumps　brooded　over　by　an　aquiline　individual　caparisoned　with　brass　like　a　horse；　his　head　wrapped　picturesquely　in　a　shawl。　　Benham　surveyed　these　last　products　of　the　〃life　force〃　and　resumed　his　pensive　survey　of　the　coast。　　The　sea　was　deserted　save　for　a　couple　of　little　lateen　craft　with　suns　painted　on　their　gaudy　sails；　sea　butterflies　that　hung　motionless　as　if　unawakened　close　inshore。　。　。　。　The　travel　of　the　last　few　weeks　had　impressed　Benham's　imagination　profoundly。　　For　the　first　time　in　his　life　he　had　come　face　to　face　with　civilization　in　defeat。　　From　Venice　hitherward　he　had　marked　with　cumulative　effect　the　clustering　evidences　of　effort　spent　and　power　crumbled　to　nothingness。　　He　had　landed　upon　the　marble　quay　of　Pola　and　visited　its　deserted　amphitheatre；　he　had　seen　a　weak　provincial　life　going　about　ignoble　ends　under　the　walls　of　the　great　Venetian　fortress　and　the　still　more　magnificent　cathedral　of　Zara；　he　had　visited　Spalato；　clustered　in　sweltering　grime　within　the　ample　compass　of　the　walls　of　Diocletian‘s　villa；　and　a　few　troublesome　sellers　of　coins　and　iridescent　glass　and　fragments　of　tessellated　pavement　and　such…like　loot　was　all　the　population　he　had　found　amidst　the　fallen　walls　and　broken　friezes　and　columns　of　Salona。　　Down　this　coast　there　ebbed　and　flowed　a　mean　residual　life；　a　life　of　violence　and　dishonesty；　peddling　trades；　vendettas　and　war。　　For　a　while　the　unstable　Austrian　ruled　this　land　and　made　a　sort　of　order　that　the　incalculable　chances　of　international　politics　might　at　any　time　shatter。　　Benham　was　drawing　near　now　to　the　utmost　limit　of　that　extended　peace。　　Ahead　beyond　the　mountain　capes　was　Montenegro　and；　further；　Albania　and　Macedonia；　lands　of　lawlessness　and　confusion。　　Amanda　and　he　had　been　warned　of　the　impossibility　of　decent　travel　beyond　Cattaro　and　Cettinje　but　this　had　but　whetted　her　adventurousness　and　challenged　his　spirit。　　They　were　going　to　see　Albania　for　themselves。　The　three　months　of　honeymoon　they　had　been　spending　together　had　developed　many　remarkable　divergences　of　their　minds　that　had　not　been　in　the　least　apparent　to　Benham　before　their　marriage。　　Then　their　common　resolve　to　be　as　spirited　as　possible　had　obliterated　all　minor　considerations。　　But　that　was　the　limit　of　their　unanimity。　　Amanda　loved　wild　and　picturesque　things；　and　Benham　strong　and　clear　things；　the　vines　and　brushwood　amidst　the　ruins　of　Salona　that　had　delighted　her　had　filled　him　with　a　sense　of　tragic　retrogression。　　Salona　had　revived　again　in　the　acutest　form　a　dispute　that　had　been　smouldering　between　them　throughout　a　fitful　and　lengthy　exploration　of　north　and　central　Italy。　　She　could　not　understand　his　disgust　with　the　mediaeval　colour　and　confusion　that　had　swamped　the　pride　and　state　of　the　Roman　empire；　and　he　could　not　make　her　feel　the　ambition　of　the　ruler；　the　essential　discipline　and　responsibilities　of　his　aristocratic　idea。　　While　his　adventurousness　was　conquest；　hers；　it　was　only　too　manifest；　was　brigandage。　　His　thoughts　ran　now　into　the　form　of　an　imaginary　discourse；　that　he　would　never　deliver　to　her；　on　the　decay　of　states；　on　the　triumphs　of　barbarians　over　rulers　who　will　not　rule；　on　the　relaxation　of　patrician　orders　and　the　return　of　the　robber　and　assassin　as　lordship　decays。　　This　coast　was　no　theatrical　scenery　for　him；　it　was　a　shattered　empire。　　And　it　was　shattered　becau