osc.am1.seventhson-第45节

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e　I　undertook　this　task。〃
　　He　strode　boldly　into　the　room　and　sat　down　on　the　chair　beside　the　bed　where　Satan's　child　lay　trembling；　waiting　for　the　knife。　Thrower　looked　around　for　his　tools　of　holy　murder。　They　were　nowhere　in　sight。　〃Where　is　the　knife？〃　he　asked。
　　Faith　looked　at　Measure。　〃Didn't　you　bring　them　back　in　with　you？〃　she　asked。
　　〃You're　the　one　brought　them　in　here；〃　said　Measure。
　　〃But　when　you　went　back　out　to　get　the　preacher；　you　took　them；〃　she　said。
　　〃Did　I？〃　Measure　looked　confused。　〃I　must　have　set　them　down　out　there。〃　He　got　up　and　left　the　room。
　　Thrower　began　to　realize　that　something　strange　was　going　on　here；　though　he　couldn't　quite　put　his　finger　on　it。
　　He　walked　to　the　door　and　waited　for　Measure　to　return。
　　Cally　was　standing　there；　holding　his　slate；　looking　up　at　the　minister。　〃You　going　to　kill　my　brother？〃　he　asked。
　　〃Don't　even　think　of　such　a　thing；〃　Thrower　answered。
　　Measure　looked　sheepish　as　he　handed　the　implements　to　Thrower。　〃I　can't　believe　I　just　set　them　on　the　mantel　like　that。〃　Then　the　young　man　pushed　past　Thrower　into　the　room。
　　A　moment　later；　Thrower　followed　him　into　Alvin's　room　and　took　his　place　beside　the　exposed　leg；　with　the　box　drawn　in　black。
　　〃Well　where'd　you　put　them？〃　asked　Faith。
　　Thrower　realized　that　he　didn't　have　the　knife　or　the　saw。　He　was　pletely　confused。　Measure　handed　them　to　him　just　outside　the　door。　How　could　he　have　lost　them？
　　Cally　stood　in　the　doorway。　〃Why'd　you　give　me　these？〃　he　asked。　He　was；　in　fact；　holding　both　blades。
　　〃That's　a　good　question；〃　said　Measure；　eyeing　the　pastor　with　a　frown。　〃Why'd　you　give　them　to　Cally？〃
　　〃I　didn't；〃　said　Thrower。　〃You　must　have　given　them　to　him。〃
　　〃I　put　them　right　in　your　hands；〃　said　Measure。
　　〃The　preacher　give　them　to　me；〃　said　Cally。
　　〃Well；　bring　them　here；〃　said　his　mother。
　　Cally　obediently　started　into　the　room；　brandishing　the　blades　like　trophies　of　war。　Like　the　attack　of　a　great　army。　Ah；　yes；　a　great　army；　like　the　army　of　the　Israelites　that　Joshua　led　into　the　promised　land。　This　is　how　they　held　their　weapons；　high　above　their　heads；　as　they　marched　around　and　around　the　city　of　Jericho。　Marched　and　marched。　Marched　and　marched。　And　on　the　seventh　day　they　stopped　and　blew　their　trumpets　and　gave　a　great　shout；　and　down　came　the　walls；　and　they　held　their　swords　and　knives　high　over　their　heads　and　charged　into　the　city；　hacking　men；　women；　and　children；　all　the　enemies　of　God；　so　the　promised　land　would　be　purged　of　their　filthiness　and　be　ready　to　receive　the　people　of　the　Lord。　They　were　spattered　in　blood　by　the　end　of　the　day；　and　Joshua　stood　in　their　midst；　the　great　prophet　of　God；　holding　a　bloody　sword　above　his　head；　and　he　shouted。　What　did　he　shout？
　　I　can't　remember　what　he　shouted。　If　I　could　only　remember　what　he　shouted；　I'd　understand　why　I'm　standing　here　on　the　road；　surrounded　by　snow…covered　trees。
　　Reverend　Thrower　looked　at　his　hands；　and　looked　at　the　trees。　He　had　somehow　walked　half　a　mile　away　from　the　Millers'　house。　He　wasn't　even　wearing　his　heavy　cloak。
　　Then　the　truth　came　clear。　He　hadn't　fooled　the　devil　at　all。　Satan　had　transported　him　here；　in　the　twinkling　of　an　eye；　rather　than　let　him　kill　the　Beast。　Thrower　had　failed　in　his　one　opportunity　for　greatness。　He　leaned　against　a　cold　black　trunk　and　cried　bitterly。
　　Cally　walked　into　the　room；　holding　the　blades　above　his　head。　Measure　was　all　set　to　get　a　grip　on　the　leg；　when　all　of　a　sudden　old　Thrower　stood　right　up　and　walked　out　of　the　room　just　as　quick　as　if　he　was　trotting　to　the　privy。
　　〃Reverend　Thrower；〃　cried　Ma。　〃Where　are　you　going？〃
　　But　Measure　understood　now。　〃Let　him　go；　Ma；〃　he　said。
　　They　heard　the　front　door　of　the　house　open；　and　the　minister's　heavy　steps　on　the　porch。
　　〃Go　shut　the　front　door；　Cally；〃　said　Measure。
　　For　once　Cally　obeyed　without　a　speck　of　backsass。　Ma　looked　at　Measure；　then　at　Pa；　then　at　Measure　again。　〃I　don't　understand　why　he　left　like　that；〃　she　said。
　　Measure　gave　her　a　little　half…smile　and　looked　at　Pa。　〃You　know；　don't　you；　Pa？〃
　　〃Maybe；〃　he　said。
　　Measure　explained　to　his　mother。　〃Them　knives　and　that　preacher；　they　can't　be　in　this　room　with　Al　Junior　at　the　same　time。〃
　　〃But　why　not！〃　she　said。　〃He　was　going　to　do　the　surgery！〃
　　〃Well；　he　sure　ain't　going　to　do　it　now；〃　said　Measure。
　　The　knife　and　the　bone　saw　lay　on　the　blanket。
　　〃Pa；〃　said　Measure。
　　〃Not　me；〃　said　Pa。
　　〃Ma；〃　said　Measure。
　　〃I　can't；〃　Faith　said。
　　〃Well　then；〃　said　Measure；　〃I　reckon　I　just　turned　surgeon。〃　He　looked　at　Alvin。
　　The　boy's　face　had　a　deathly　pallor　to　it　that　was　even　worse　than　the　ruddiness　of　the　fever。　But　he　managed　a　sort　of　smile；　and　whispered；　〃Reckon　so。〃
　　〃Ma；　you're　going　to　have　to　hold　back　that　flap　of　skin。〃
　　She　nodded。
　　Measure　picked　up　the　knife　and　brought　the　blade　to　rest　against　the　bottom　line。
　　〃Measure；〃　Al　Junior　whispered。
　　〃Yes；　Alvin？〃　Measure　asked。
　　〃I　can　stand　the　pain　and　hold　right　still；　iffen　you　whistle。〃
　　〃I　can't　keep　no　tune；　if　I'm　trying　to　cut　straight　at　the　same　time；〃　said　Measure。
　　〃Don't　want　no　tune；〃　said　Alvin。
　　Measure　looked　into　the　boy's　eyes　and　had　no　choice　but　to　do　as　he　asked。　It　was　Al's　leg；　after　all；　and　if　he　wanted　a　whistling　surgeon；　he'd　get　one。　Measure　took　a　deep　breath　and　started　in　whistling；　no　kind　of　tune　at　all；　just　notes。　He　put　the　knife　on　the　black　line　again　and　began　to　cut。　Shallow　at　first；　cause　he　heard　Al　take　a　gasp　of　air。
　　〃Keep　whistling；〃　Alvin　whispered。　〃Right　to　the　bone。〃
　　Measure　whistled　again；　and　this　time　he　cut　fast　and　deep。　Right　to　the　bone　in　the　middle　of　the　line。　A　deep　slit　up　both　sides。　Then　he　worked　the　knife　under　the　two　corners　and　peeled　the　skin　and　muscle　right　back。　At　first　it　bled　more　than　a　little　bit；　but　almost　right　away　the　bleeding　stopped。　Measure　figured　it　must　be　something　Alvin　did　inside　himself；　to　stop　the　bleeding　like　that。
　　〃Faith；〃　said　Pa。
　　Ma　reached　over　and　laid　her　hand　on　the　bloody　flap　of　skin。　Al　reached　out　a　trembling　hand　and　traced　a　wedge　on　the　red…streaked　bone　of　his　own　leg。　Measure　laid　down　the　knife　and　picked　up　the　saw。　It　made　an　awful；　squeaky　sound　as　he　cut。　But　Measure　just　whistled　and　sawed；　sawed　and　whistled。　And　pretty　soon　he　had　a　wedge　of　bone　in　his　hand。　It　didn't　look　no　different　from　the　rest　of　the　bone。
　　〃You　sure　that　was　the　right　place？〃　he　asked。
　　Al　nodded　slowly。
　　〃Did　I　get　it　all？〃　Measure　asked。
　　Al　sat　for　a　few　moments；　then　nodded　again。
　　〃You　want　Ma　to　sew　this　back　up？〃　Measure　asked。
　　Al　didn't　say　a　thing。
　　〃He　fainted；〃　said　Pa。
　　The　blood　started　to　flow　again；　just　a　little；　seeping　into　the　wound。　Ma　had　a　needle　and　thread　on　the　pincushion　she　wore　around　her　neck。　In　no　time　she　had　that　flap　of　skin　right　back　down；　and　she　was　stitching　away　at　it；　making　a　fine　tight　seam。
　　〃You　just　keep　on　whistling；　Measure；〃　she　said。
　　So　he　kept　right　on　whistling　and　she　kept　right　on　sewing；　till　they　had　the　wound　all　bandaged　up　and　Alvin　was　laying　back　sleeping　like　a　baby。　They　all　three　stood　up　to　go。　Pa　laid　a　hand　on　the　boy's　forehead；　as　gentle　as　you　please。
　　〃I　think　his　fever's　gone；〃　he　said。
　　Measure's　tune　got　downright　jaunty　as　they　slipped　on　out　the　door。
　　
　　
　　Chapter　Fourteen　　Chastisement
　　
　　As　soon　as　Elly　saw　him；　she　was　sweet　as　could　be；　brushing　snow　off　him；　helping　with　his　cloak；　and　never　so　much　as　whispering　a　question　of　how　it　happened。
　　Didn't　make　no　difference　how　kindly　she　might　be。
　　He　was　shamed　afore　his　own　wife；　cause　sooner　or　later　she'd　hear　the　tale　from　one　of　those　children。　Soon　enough　the　tale　would　be　all　up　and　down　the　Wobbish。　How　Armor…of…God　Weaver；　storekeeper　for　the　western　country；　future　governor；　got　throwed　right　off　a　porch　into　the　snow　by　his　old　father…in…law。　They'd　be　laughing　behind　their　hands；　all　right。　They'd　laugh　him　up　and　down。　Never　to　his　face；　of　course；　cause　there　was　hardly　a　soul　between　Lake　Canada　and　the　Noisy　River　who　didn't　owe　him　money　or　need　his　maps　to　prove　their　claims。　e　the　time　when　the　Wobbish　country　was　made　a　state；　they'd　tell　that　story　at　every　polling　place。　They　might　like　a　man　they　laughed　at；　but　they　wouldn't　respect　him；　and　they　wouldn't　vote　for　him。
　　It　was　the　death　of　his　plans　he　was　facing；　and　his　wife　just　had　too　much　of　that　Miller　family　look　about　her。　She　was　pretty　enough；　for　a　frontier　woman；　but　he　didn't　care　about　pretty　right　now。　He　didn't　care　about　sweet　nights　and　gentle　mornings。　He　didn't　care　about　her　working　alongside　him　in　the　store。　All　he　cared　about　was　shame　and　rage。
　　〃Don't　do　that。〃
　　〃You　got　to　get　that　wet　shirt　off。　How'd　you　get　snow　clear　down　your　shirt？〃
　　〃I　said　get　your　hands　off　me！〃
　　She　stepped　back；　surprised。　〃I　was　just〃
　　〃I　know　what　you　'was　just。'　Poor　little　Armor；　you　just　pat　him　like　a　little　boy　and　he'll　feel　better。〃
　　〃You　could　catch　your　death〃
　　〃Tell　that　t