osc.am1.seventhson-第21节

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　　〃That's　sad　news；　and　if　it's　so；　then　I've　e　to　the　wrong　house　indeed。〃　Taleswapper　could　see　that　this　truly　wasn't　the　house　for　him。　Even　if　Armor　relented　and　let　him　in；　he　would　be　surrounded　by　suspicion；　and　Taleswapper　couldn't　live　where　people　looked　sharp　at　him　all　the　time。　〃Good　day　to　you。〃
　　But　Armor　wasn't　letting　him　go　so　easily。　He　took　Taleswapper's　words　as　a　challenge。　〃Why　should　it　be　sad？　I　live　a　quiet；　ordinary　life。〃
　　〃No　man's　life　is　ordinary　to　himself；〃　said　Taleswapper；　〃and　if　he　says　it　is；　then　that's　a　story　of　the　kind　that　I　never　tell。〃
　　〃You　calling　me　a　liar？〃　demanded　Armor。
　　〃I'm　asking　if　you　know　a　place　where　my　knack　might　be　wele。〃
　　Taleswapper　saw；　though　Armor　didn't；　how　the　wife　did　a　calming　with　the　fingers　of　her　right　hand；　and　held　her　husband's　wrist　with　her　left。　It　was　smoothly　done；　and　the　husband　must　have　bee　quite　attuned　to　it；　because　he　visibly　relaxed　as　she　stepped　a　bit　forward　to　reply。　〃Friend；〃　she　said；　〃if　you　take　the　track　behind　that　hill　yonder；　and　follow　it　to　the　end；　over　two　brooks；　both　with　bridges；　you'll　reach　the　house　of　Alvin　Miller；　and　I　know　he'll　take　you　in。〃
　　〃Ha；〃　said　Armor。
　　〃Thank　you；〃　said　Taleswapper。　〃But　how　can　you　know　such　a　thing？〃
　　〃They'll　take　you　in　for　as　long　as　you　want　to　stay；　and　never　turn　you　away；　as　long　as　you　show　willingness　to　help　out。〃
　　〃Willing　I　always　am；　milady；〃　said　Taleswapper。
　　〃Always　willing？〃　said　Armor。　〃Nobody's　always　willing。　I　thought　you　always　spoke　true。〃
　　〃I　always　tell　what　I　believe。　Whether　it's　true；　I'm　no　more　sure　than　any　man。〃
　　〃Then　how　do　you　call　me　'sir；'　when　I'm　no　knight；　and　call　her　'milady；'　when　she's　as　mon　as　myself？〃
　　〃Why；　I　don't　believe　in　the　King's　knightings；　that's　why。　He　calls　a　man　a　knight　because　he　owes　him　a　favor；　whether　he's　a　true　knight　or　not。　And　all　his　mistresses　are　called　'ladies'　for　what　they　do　between　the　royal　sheets。　That's　how　the　words　are　used　among　the　Cavaliers　　lies　half　the　time。　But　your　wife；　sir；　acted　like　a　true　lady；　gracious　and　hospitable。　And　you；　sir；　like　a　true　knight；　protecting　your　household　against　the　dangers　you　most　fear。〃
　　Armor　laughed　aloud。　〃You　talk　so　sweet　I　bet　you　have　to　suck　on　salt　for　half　an　hour　to　get　the　taste　of　sugar　out　of　your　mouth。〃
　　〃It's　my　knack；〃　said　Taleswapper。　〃But　I　have　other　ways　to　talk；　and　not　sweetly；　when　the　time　is　right。　Good　afternoon　to　you；　and　your　wife；　and　your　children；　and　your　Christian　house。〃
　　Taleswapper　walked　out　onto　the　grass　of　the　cornmons。　The　cows　paid　him　no　mind；　because　he　did　have　a　warding；　though　not　of　the　sort　that　Armor　would　ever　see。　Taleswapper　sat　in　the　sunlight　for　a　little　while；　to　let　his　brain　get　warm　and　see　if　it　could　e　up　with　a　thought。　But　it　didn't　work。　Almost　never　had　a　thought　worth　having；　after　noon。　As　the　proverb　said；　〃Think　in　the　morning；　Act　in　the　noon；　Eat　in　the　evening；　Sleep　in　the　night。〃　Too　late　for　thinking　now。　Too　early　for　eating。
　　He　headed　up　the　pathway　to　the　church；　which　stood　well　back　from　the　mons；　atop　a　good…sized　hill。　If　I　were　a　true　prophet；　he　thought；　I'd　know　things　now。　I'd　know　whether　I'd　stay　here　for　a　day　or　a　week　or　a　month。　I'd　know　whether　Armor　would　be　my　friend；　as　I　hope；　or　my　enemy；　as　I　fear。　I'd　know　whether　his　wife　would　someday　win　herself　free　to　use　her　powers　in　the　open。　I'd　know　whether　I'd　ever　meet　this　Red　Prophet　face　to　face。
　　But　that　was　nonsense；　he　knew。　That　was　the　sort　of　seeing　that　a　torch　would　do　　he'd　seen　them　doing　it　before；　more　than　a　few　of　them；　and　it　filled　him　with　dread；　because　it　wasn't　good；　he　knew；　for　a　man　to　know　too　much　of　the　path　of　his　own　life　ahead。　No；　for　him　the　knack　he　wanted　was　prophecy；　to　see；　not　the　small　doings　of　men　and　women　in　their　little　corners　of　the　world；　but　rather　the　great　sweep　of　events　as　directed　by　God。　Or　by　Satan　　Taleswapper　wasn't　particular；　since　both　of　them　had　a　good　idea　of　what　they　planned　to　do　in　the　world；　and　so　either　one　was　likely　to　know　a　few　things　about　the　future。　Of　course；　it　was　likely　to　be　more　pleasant　to　hear　from　God。　What　traces　of　the　devil　he　had　touched　so　far　in　his　life　had　all　been　painful；　each　in　its　own　way。
　　The　church　door　stood　open；　this　being　a　warmish　day　for　autumn；　and　Taleswapper　buzzed　right　in　along　with　the　Ries。　It　was　as　fine　a　church　inside　as　out　　obviously　Scottish　rite；　so　it　was　plain　　but　all　the　more　cheerful　for　that；　a　bright　and　airy　place；　with　whited　walls　and　glass…paned　windows。　Even　the　pews　and　pulpit　were　of　light　wood。　The　only　thing　dark　in　the　whole　place　was　the　altar。　So　naturally　his　eye　was　drawn　to　it。　And；　because　he　had　a　knack　for　this　sort　of　thing；　he　saw　traces　of　a　liquid　touch　upon　the　surface　of　it。
　　He　walked　slowly　toward　the　altar。　Toward　it；　because　he　had　to　know　for　sure；　slowly；　because　this　sort　of　thing　ought　not　to　be　in　a　Christian　church。　Up　close；　though；　there　was　no　mistaking。　It　was　the　same　trace　he　had　seen　on　the　face　of　the　man　in　DeKane；　who　tortured　his　own　children　to　death　and　blamed　it　on　the　Reds。　The　same　trace　he　had　seen　lingering　on　the　sword　that　beheaded　George　Washington。　It　was　like　a　thin　film　of　filthy　water；　invisible　unless　you　looked　at　a　certain　angle；　in　a　certain　light。　But　to　Taleswapper　it　was　always　visible　now　　he　had　an　eye　for　it。
　　He　reached　out　his　hand　and　set　his　forefinger　carefully　on　the　clearest　trace。　It　took　all　his　strength　just　to　hold　it　there　for　a　moment；　it　burned　so；　setting　his　whole　arm　to　trembling　and　aching；　right　to　the　shoulder。
　　〃You're　wele　in　God's　house；〃　said　a　voice。
　　Taleswapper；　sucking　on　his　burnt　finger；　turned　to　face　the　speaker。　He　was　robed　as　a　Scottish　Rite　preacher　　Presbyterian；　they　called　them　here　in　America。
　　〃You　didn't　get　a　splinter；　did　you？〃　asked　the　preacher。
　　It　would　have　been　easier　just　to　say　Yes；　I　got　a　splinter。　But　Taleswapper　only　told　stories　he　believed。
　　〃Preacher；〃　said　Taleswapper；　〃the　devil　has　set　his　hand　upon　this　altar。〃
　　At　once　the　preacher's　lugubrious　smile　disappeared。　〃How　do　you　know　the　devil's　handprint？〃
　　〃It's　a　gift　of　God；〃　said　Taleswapper。　〃To　see。〃
　　The　preacher　looked　at　him　closely；　unsure　whether　or　not　to　believe。　〃Then　can　you　also　tell　where　angels　have　touched？〃
　　〃I　could　see　traces；　I　think；　if　goodly　spirits　had　intervened。　I've　seen　such　marks　before。〃
　　The　preacher　paused；　as　if　he　wanted　to　ask　a　very　important　question　but　was　afraid　of　the　answer。　Then　he　shuddered；　the　desire　to　learn　plainly　fled　from　him；　and　the　preacher　spoke　now　with　contempt。　〃Nonsense。　You　can　fool　the　mon　people；　but　I　was　educated　in　England；　and　I　am　not　deluded　by　talk　of　hidden　powers。〃
　　〃Oh；〃　said　Taleswapper。　〃You're　an　educated　man。〃
　　〃And　so　are　you；　by　your　speech；〃　said　the　preacher。　〃The　south　of　England；　I　would　say。〃
　　〃The　Lord　Protector's　Academy　of　Art；〃　said　Taleswapper。　〃I　was　trained　as　an　engraver。　Since　you're　Scottish　rite；　I　daresay　you've　seen　my　work　in　your　Sunday　school　book。〃
　　〃I　never　notice　such　things；〃　said　the　preacher。　〃Engravings　are　a　waste　of　paper　that　could　be　given　over　to　words　of　truth。　Unless　they　illustrate　matters　that　the　artist's　eye　has　actually　seen；　like　anatornies。　But　what　the　artist　conceives　in　his　imagination　has　no　better　claim　on　my　eyes　than　what　I　imagine　for　myself。〃
　　Taleswapper　followed　that　notion　to　its　root。　〃What　if　the　artist　were　also　a　prophet？〃
　　The　preacher　half…closed　his　eyes。　〃The　day　of　prophets　is　over。　Like　that　apostate　heathen　one…eyed　drunken　Red　man；　across　the　river；　all　who　claim　to　be　prophets　now　are　charlatans。　And　I　have　no　doubt　that　if　God　granted　the　gift　of　prophecy　even　to　one　artist；　we　would　soon　have　a　surplus　of　sketchers　and　daubers　wishing　to　be　taken　for　prophets；　especially　if　it　would　bring　them　better　pay。〃
　　Taleswapper　answered　mildly；　but　he　did　not　let　the　preacher's　implicit　accusation　stand。　〃A　man　who　preaches　the　word　of　God　for　a　salary　ought　not　to　criticize　others　who　seek　to　earn　a　living　by　revealing　the　truth。〃
　　〃I　was　ordained；〃　said　the　preacher。　〃No　one　ordains　artists。　They　ordain　themselves。〃
　　Just　as　Taleswapper　had　expected。　The　preacher　retreated　to　authority　as　soon　as　he　feared　his　ideas　could　not　stand　on　their　own　merit。　Reasonable　argument　was　impossible　when　authority　became　the　arbiter；　Taleswapper　returned　to　the　immediate　matter。　〃The　devil　laid　his　fingers　on　this　altar；〃　said　Taleswapper。　〃It　burned　my　finger　to　touch　the　place。〃
　　〃It　never　burned　mine；〃　said　the　preacher。
　　〃I　expect　not；〃　said　Taleswapper。　〃You　were　ordained。〃
　　Taleswapper　made　no　effort　to　hide　the　scorn　in　his　voice；　and　it　plainly　irked　the　preacher；　who　lashed　back。　It　did　not　bother　Taleswapper　when　people　got　angry　at　him。　It　meant　they　were　listening；　and　at　least　half　believing　him。　〃Tell　me；　then；　if　you　have　such　keen　eyes；〃　said　the　preacher。　〃Tell　me　if　a　messenger　from　God　has　ever　touched　the　altar。〃
　　Plainly　the　preacher　regarded　this　question　as　a　test。　Taleswapper　had　no　idea