an inland voyage-第20部分

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Meantime　the　heaven　wept　upon　our　heads；　and　the　windows　grew　　brighter　as　the　night　increased　in　darkness。　　We　trudged　in　and　out　　of　La　Fere　streets；　we　saw　shops；　and　private　houses　where　people　　were　copiously　dining；　we　saw　stables　where　carters'　nags　had　　plenty　of　fodder　and　clean　straw；　we　saw　no　end　of　reservists；　who　　were　very　sorry　for　themselves　this　wet　night；　I　doubt　not；　and　　yearned　for　their　country　homes；　but　had　they　not　each　man　his　　place　in　La　Fere　barracks？　　And　we；　what　had　we？

There　seemed　to　be　no　other　inn　in　the　whole　town。　　People　gave　us　　directions；　which　we　followed　as　best　we　could；　generally　with　the　　effect　of　bringing　us　out　again　upon　the　scene　of　our　disgrace。　　We　　were　very　sad　people　indeed　by　the　time　we　had　gone　all　over　La　　Fere；　and　the　CIGARETTE　had　already　made　up　his　mind　to　lie　under　a　　poplar　and　sup　off　a　loaf　of　bread。　　But　right　at　the　other　end；　　the　house　next　the　town…gate　was　full　of　light　and　bustle。　　'BAZIN；　　AUBERGISTE；　LOGE　A　PIED；'　was　the　sign。　　'A　LA　CROIX　DE　MALTE。'　　　There　were　we　received。

The　room　was　full　of　noisy　reservists　drinking　and　smoking；　and　we　　were　very　glad　indeed　when　the　drums　and　bugles　began　to　go　about　　the　streets；　and　one　and　all　had　to　snatch　shakoes　and　be　off　for　　the　barracks。

Bazin　was　a　tall　man；　running　to　fat：　　soft…spoken；　with　a　　delicate；　gentle　face。　　We　asked　him　to　share　our　wine；　but　he　　excused　himself；　having　pledged　reservists　all　day　long。　　This　was　　a　very　different　type　of　the　workman…innkeeper　from　the　bawling　　disputatious　fellow　at　Origny。　　He　also　loved　Paris；　where　he　had　　worked　as　a　decorative　painter　in　his　youth。　　There　were　such　　opportunities　for　self…instruction　there；　he　said。　　And　if　any　one　　has　read　Zola's　description　of　the　workman's　marriage…party　　visiting　the　Louvre；　they　would　do　well　to　have　heard　Bazin　by　way　　of　antidote。　　He　had　delighted　in　the　museums　in　his　youth。　　'One　　sees　there　little　miracles　of　work；'　he　said；　'that　is　what　makes　a　　good　workman；　it　kindles　a　spark。'　　We　asked　him　how　he　managed　in　　La　Fere。　　'I　am　married；'　he　said；　'and　I　have　my　pretty　children。　　　But　frankly；　it　is　no　life　at　all。　　From　morning　to　night　I　pledge　　a　pack　of　good　enough　fellows　who　know　nothing。'

It　faired　as　the　night　went　on；　and　the　moon　came　out　of　the　　clouds。　　We　sat　in　front　of　the　door；　talking　softly　with　Bazin。　　　At　the　guard…house　opposite；　the　guard　was　being　for　ever　turned　　out；　as　trains　of　field　artillery　kept　clanking　in　out　of　the　　night；　or　patrols　of　horsemen　trotted　by　in　their　cloaks。　　Madame　　Bazin　came　out　after　a　while；　she　was　tired　with　her　day's　work；　I　　suppose；　and　she　nestled　up　to　her　husband　and　laid　her　head　upon　　his　breast。　　He　had　his　arm　about　her；　and　kept　gently　patting　her　　on　the　shoulder。　　I　think　Bazin　was　right；　and　he　was　really　　married。　　Of　how　few　people　can　the　same　be　said！

Little　did　the　Bazins　know　how　much　they　served　us。　　We　were　　charged　for　candles；　for　food　and　drink；　and　for　the　beds　we　slept　　in。　　But　there　was　nothing　in　the　bill　for　the　husband's　pleasant　　talk；　nor　for　the　pretty　spectacle　of　their　married　life。　　And　　there　was　yet　another　item　unchanged。　　For　these　people's　　politeness　really　set　us　up　again　in　our　own　esteem。　　We　had　a　　thirst　for　consideration；　the　sense　of　insult　was　still　hot　in　our　　spirits；　and　civil　usage　seemed　to　restore　us　to　our　position　in　　the　world。

How　little　we　pay　our　way　in　life！　　Although　we　have　our　purses　　continually　in　our　hand；　the　better　part　of　service　goes　still　　unrewarded。　　But　I　like　to　fancy　that　a　grateful　spirit　gives　as　　good　as　it　gets。　　Perhaps　the　Bazins　knew　how　much　I　liked　them？　　perhaps　they　also　were　healed　of　some　slights　by　the　thanks　that　I　　gave　them　in　my　manner？




DOWN　THE　OISE



THROUGH　THE　GOLDEN　VALLEY


BELOW　La　Fere　the　river　runs　through　a　piece　of　open　pastoral　　country；　green；　opulent；　loved　by　breeders；　called　the　Golden　　Valley。　　In　wide　sweeps；　and　with　a　swift　and　equable　gallop；　the　　ceaseless　stream　of　water　visits　and　makes　green　the　fields。　　Kine；　　and　horses；　and　little　humorous　donkeys；　browse　together　in　the　　meadows；　and　come　down　in　troops　to　the　river…side　to　drink。　　They　　make　a　strange　feature　in　the　landscape；　above　all　when　they　are　　startled；　and　you　see　them　galloping　to　and　fro　with　their　　incongruous　forms　and　faces。　　It　gives　a　feeling　as　of　great；　　unfenced　pampas；　and　the　herds　of　wandering　nations。　　There　were　　hills　in　the　distance　upon　either　hand；　and　on　one　side；　the　river　　sometimes　bordered　on　the　wooded　spurs　of　Coucy　and　St。　Gobain。

The　artillery　were　practising　at　La　Fere；　and　soon　the　cannon　of　　heaven　joined　in　that　loud　play。　　Two　continents　of　cloud　met　and　　exchanged　salvos　overhead；　while　all　round　the　horizon　we　could　see　　sunshine　and　clear　air　upon　the　hills。　　What　with　the　guns　and　the　　thunder；　the　herds　were　all　frightened　in　the　Golden　Valley。　　We　　could　see　them　tossing　their　heads；　and　running　to　and　fro　in　　timorous　indecision；　and　when　they　had　made　up　their　minds；　and　the　　donkey　followed　the　horse；　and　the　cow　was　after　the　donkey；　we　　could　hear　their　hooves　thundering　abroad　over　the　meadows。　　It　had　　a　martial　sound；　like　cavalry　charges。　　And　altogether；　as　far　as　　the　ears　are　concerned；　we　had　a　very　rousing　battle…piece　　performed　for　our　amusement。

At　last　the　guns　and　the　thunder　dropped　off；　the　sun　shone　on　the　　wet　meadows；　the　air　was　scented　with　the　breath　of　rejoicing　trees　　and　grass；　and　the　river　kept　unweariedly　carrying　us　on　at　its　　best　pace。　　There　was　a　manufacturing　district　about　Chauny；　and　　after　that　the　banks　grew　so　high　that　they　hid　the　adjacent　　country；　and　we　could　see　nothing　but　clay　sides；　and　one　willow　　after　another。　　Only；　here　and　there；　we　passed　by　a　village　or　a　　ferry；　and　some　wondering　child　upon　the　bank　would　stare　after　us　　until　we　turned　the　corner。　　I　daresay　we　continued　to　paddle　in　　that　child's　dreams　for　many　a　night　after。

Sun　and　shower　alternated　like　day　and　night；　making　the　hours　　longer　by　their　variety。　　When　the　showers　were　heavy；　I　could　feel　　each　drop　striking　through　my　jersey　to　my　warm　skin；　and　the　　accumulation　of　small　shocks　put　me　nearly　beside　myself。　　I　　decided　I　should　buy　a　mackintosh　at　Noyon。　　It　is　nothing　to　get　　wet；　but　the　misery　of　these　individual　pricks　of　cold　all　over　my　　body　at　the　same　instant　of　time　made　me　flail　the　water　with　my　　paddle　like　a　madman。　　The　CIGARETTE　was　greatly　amused　by　these　　ebullitions。　　It　gave　him　something　else　to　look　at　besides　clay　　banks　and　willows。

All　the　time；　the　river　stole　away　like　a　thief　in　straight　places；　　or　swung　round　corners　with　an　eddy；　the　willows　nodded；　and　were　　undermined　all　day　long；　the　clay　banks　tumbled　in；　the　Oise；　which　　had　been　so　many　centuries　making　the　Golden　Valley；　seemed　to　have　　changed　its　fancy；　and　be　bent　upon　undoing　its　performance。　　What　　a　number　of　things　a　river　does；　by　simply　following　Gravity　in　the　　innocence　of　its　heart！



NOYON　CATHEDRAL



NOYON　stands　about　a　mile　from　the　river；　in　a　little　plain　　surrounded　by　wooded　hills；　and　entirely　covers　an　eminence　with　　its　tile　r