the wheels of chance-第5节

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nt　wheel　suddenly　shrieked　aloud。　〃Oh　Lord！〃　said　Hoopdriver；　relaxing。

Anyhow　she　was　not　in　sight。　He　got　off　unsteadily；　and　for　a　moment　his　legs　felt　like　wisps　of　cotton。　He　balanced　his　machine　against　the　grassy　edge　of　the　path　and　sat　down　panting。　His　hands　were　gnarled　with　swollen　veins　and　shaking　palpably；　his　breath　came　viscid。

〃I'm　hardly　in　training　yet；〃　he　remarked。　His　legs　had　gone　leaden。　〃I　don't　feel　as　though　I'd　had　a　mouthful　of　breakfast。〃　Presently　he　slapped　his　side　pocket　and　produced　therefrom　a　brand…new　cigarette　case　and　a　packet　of　Vansittart's　Red　Herring　cigarettes。　He　filled　the　case。　Then　his　eye　fell　with　a　sudden　approval　on　the　ornamental　chequering　of　his　new　stockings。　The　expression　in　his　eyes　faded　slowly　to　abstract　meditation。

〃She　WAS　a　stunning　girl；〃　he　said。　〃I　wonder　if　I　shall　ever　set　eyes　on　her　again。　And　she　knew　how　to　ride；　too！　Wonder　what　she　thought　of　me。〃

The　phrase　'bloomin'　Dook'　floated　into　his　mind　with　a　certain　flavour　of　comfort。

He　lit　a　cigarette；　and　sat　smoking　and　meditating。　He　did　not　even　look　up　when　vehicles　passed。　It　was　perhaps　ten　minutes　before　he　roused　himself。　〃What　rot　it　is！　What's　the　good　of　thinking　such　things；〃　he　said。　〃I'm　only　a　blessed　draper's　assistant。〃　（To　be　exact；　he　did　not　say　blessed。　The　service　of　a　shop　may　polish　a　man's　exterior　ways；　but　the　'prentices'　dormitory　is　an　indifferent　school　for　either　manners　or　morals。）　He　stood　up　and　began　wheeling　his　machine　towards　Esher。　It　was　going　to　be　a　beautiful　day；　and　the　hedges　and　trees　and　the　open　country　were　all　glorious　to　his　town…tired　eyes。　But　it　was　a　little　different　from　the　elation　of　his　start。

〃Look　at　the　gentleman　wizzer　bicitle；〃　said　a　nursemaid　on　the　path　to　a　personage　in　a　perambulator。　That　healed　him　a　little。　〃'Gentleman　wizzer　bicitle；''bloomin'　Dook'I　can't　look　so　very　seedy；〃　he　said　to　himself。

〃I　WONDERI　should　just　like　to　know〃

There　was　something　very　comforting　in　the　track　of　HER　pneumatic　running　straight　and　steady　along　the　road　before　him。　It　must　be　hers。　No　other　pneumatic　had　been　along　the　road　that　morning。　It　was　just　possible；　of　course；　that　he　might　see　her　once　more　coming　back。　Should　he　try　and　say　something　smart？　He　speculated　what　manner　of　girl　she　might　be。　Probably　she　was　one　of　these　here　New　Women。　He　had　a　persuasion　the　cult　had　been　maligned。　Anyhow　she　was　a　Lady。　And　rich　people；　too！　Her　machine　couldn't　have　cost　much　under　twenty　pounds。　His　mind　came　round　and　dwelt　some　time　on　her　visible　self。　Rational　dress　didn't　look　a　bit　unwomanly。　However；　he　disdained　to　be　one　of　your　fortunehunters。　Then　his　thoughts　drove　off　at　a　tangent。　He　would　certainly　have　to　get　something　to　eat　at　the　next　public　house。　


ON　THE　ROAD　TO　RIPLEY

VI

In　the　fulness　of　time；　Mr。　Hoopdriver　drew　near　the　Marquis　of　Granby　at　Esher；　and　as　he　came　under　the　railway　arch　and　saw　the　inn　in　front　of　him；　he　mounted　his　machine　again　and　rode　bravely　up　to　the　doorway。　Burton　and　biscuit　and　cheese　he　had；　which；　indeed；　is　Burton　in　its　proper　company；　and　as　he　was　eating　there　came　a　middleaged　man　in　a　drab　cycling　suit；　very　red　and　moist　and　angry　in　the　face；　and　asked　bitterly　for　a　lemon　squash。　And　he　sat　down　upon　the　seat　in　the　bar　and　mopped　his　face。　But　scarcely　had　he　sat　down　before　he　got　up　again　and　stared　out　of　the　doorway。　

〃Damn！〃　said　he。　Then；　〃Damned　Fool！〃　

〃Eigh？〃　said　Mr。　Hoopdriver；　looking　round　suddenly　with　a　piece　of　cheese　in　his　cheek。　

The　man　in　drab　faced　him。　〃I　called　myself　a　Damned　Fool；　sir。　Have　you　any　objections？〃　

〃Oh！None。　None；〃　said　Mr。　Hoopdriver。　〃I　thought　you　spoke　to　me。　I　didn't　hear　what　you　said。〃　

〃To　have　a　contemplative　disposition　and　an　energetic　temperament；　sir；　is　hell。　Hell；　I　tell　you。　A　contemplative　disposition　and　a　phlegmatic　temperament；　all　very　well。　But　energy　and　philosophy！〃　

Mr。　Hoopdriver　looked　as　intelligent　as　he　could；　but　said　nothing。　

〃There's　no　hurry；　sir；　none　whatever。　I　came　out　for　exercise；　gentle　exercise；　and　to　notice　the　scenery　and　to　botanise。　And　no　sooner　do　I　get　on　the　accursed　machine；　than　off　I　go　hammer　and　tongs；　I　never　look　to　right　or　left；　never　notice　a　flower；　never　see　a　view；　get　hot；　juicy；　red；like　a　grilled　chop。　Here　I　am；　sir。　Come　from　Guildford　in　something　under　the　hour。　WHY；　sir？〃　

Mr。　Hoopdriver　shook　his　head。　

〃Because　I'm　a　damned　fool；　sir。　Because　I've　reservoirs　and　reservoirs　of　muscular　energy；　and　one　or　other　of　them　is　always　leaking。　It's　a　most　interesting　road；　birds　and　trees；　I've　no　doubt；　and　wayside　flowers；　and　there's　nothing　I　should　enjoy　more　than　watching　them。　But　I　can't。　Get　me　on　that　machine；　and　I　have　to　go。　Get　me　on　anything；　and　I　have　to　go。　And　I　don't　want　to　go　a　bit。　WHY　should　a　man　rush　about　like　a　rocket；　all　pace　and　fizzle？　Why？　It　makes　me　furious。　I　can　assure　you；　sir；　I　go　scorching　along　the　road；　and　cursing　aloud　at　myself　for　doing　it。　A　quiet；　dignified；　philosophical　man；　that's　what　I　amat　bottom；　and　here　I　am　dancing　with　rage　and　swearing　like　a　drunken　tinker　at　a　perfect　stranger

〃But　my　day's　wasted。　I've　lost　all　that　country　road；　and　now　I'm　on　the　fringe　of　London。　And　I　might　have　loitered　all　the　morning！　Ugh！　Thank　Heaven；　sir；　you　have　not　the　irritable　temperament；　that　you　are　not　goaded　to　madness　by　your　endogenous　sneers；　by　the　eternal　wrangling　of　an　uncomfortable　soul　and　body。　I　tell　you；　I　lead　a　cat　and　dog　lifeBut　what　IS　the　use　of　talking？It's　all　of　a　piece！〃　

He　tossed　his　head　with　unspeakable　self…disgust；　pitched　the　lemon　squash　into　his　mouth；　paid　for　it；　and　without　any　further　remark　strode　to　the　door。　Mr。　Hoopdriver　was　still　wondering　what　to　say　when　his　interlocutor　vanished。　There　was　a　noise　of　a　foot　spurning　the　gravel；　and　when　Mr。　Hoopdriver　reached　the　doorway；　the　man　in　drab　was　a　score　of　yards　Londonward。　He　had　already　gathered　pace。　He　pedalled　with　ill…suppressed　anger；　and　his　head　was　going　down。　In　another　moment　he　flew　swiftly　out　of　sight　under　the　railway　arch；　and　Mr。　Hoopdriver　saw　him　no　more。



VII　

After　this　whirlwind　Mr。　Hoopdriver　paid　his　reckoning　andbeing　now　a　little　rested　about　the　muscles　of　the　kneesresumed　his　saddle　and　rode　on　in　the　direction　of　Ripley；　along　an　excellent　but　undulating　road。　He　was　pleased　to　find　his　command　over　his　machine　already　sensibly　increased。　He　set　himself　little　exercises　as　he　went　along　and　performed　them　with　variable　success。　There　was；　for　instance；　steering　in　between　a　couple　of　stones；　say　a　foot　apart；　a　deed　of　little　difficulty　as　far　as　the　front　wheel　is　concerned。　But　the　back　wheel；　not　being　under　the　sway　of　the　human　eye；　is　apt　to　take　a　vicious　jump　over　the　obstacle；　which　sends　a　violent　concussion　all　along　the　spine　to　the　skull；　and　will　even　jerk　a　loosely　fastened　hat　over　the　eyes；　and　so　lead　to　much　confusion。　And　again；　there　was　taking　the　hand　or　hands　off　the　handlebar；　a　thing　simple　in　itself；　but　complex　in　its　consequences。　This　particularly　was　a　feat　Mr。　Hoopdriver　desired　to　do；　for　several　divergent　reasons；　but　at　present　it　simply　led　to　convulsive　balancings　and　novel　and　inelegant　modes　of　dismounting。　

The　human　nose　is；　at　its　best；　a　needless　excrescence。　There　are　those　who　consider　it　ornamental；　and　would　regard　a　face　deprived　of　its　assistance　with　pity　or　derision；　but　it　is　doubtful　whether　our　esteem　is　dictated　so　much　by　a　sense　of　its　absolute　beauty　as　by　the　vitiating　effect　of　a　universally　prevalent　fashion。　In　the　case　of　bicycle　students；　as　in　the　young　of　both　sexes；　its　inutility　is　aggravated　by　its　persistent　annoyanceit　requires　constant　attention。　Until　one　can　ride　with　one　hand；　and　search　for；　secure；　and　use　a　pocket　handkerchief　with　the　other；　cycling　is　necessarily　a　constant　series　of　descents。　Nothing　can　be　further　from　the　author's　ambition　than　a　wanton　realism；　but　Mr。　Hoopdriver's　nose　is　a　plain　and　salient　fact；　and　face　it　we　must。　And；　in　addition　to　this　inconvenience；　there　are　flies。　Until　the　cyclist　can　steer　with　one　hand；　his　face　is　given　over　to　Beelzebub。　Contemplative　flies　stroll　over　it；　and　trifle　absently　with　its　most　sensitive　surfaces。　The　only　way　to　dislodge　them　is　to　shake　the　head　forcibly　and　to　writhe　one's　features　violently。　This　is　not　only　a　lengthy　and　frequently　ineffectual　method；　but　one　exceedingly　terrifying　to　foot　passengers。　And　again；　sometimes　the　beginner　rides　for　a　space　with　one　eye　closed　by　perspiration；　giving　him　a　waggish　air　foreign　to　his　mood　and　ill　calculated　to　overawe　the　impertinent。　However；　you　will　appreciate　now　the　motive　of　Mr。　Hoopdriver's　experiments。　He　presently　attained　sufficient　dexterity　to　slap　himself　smartly　and　violently　in　the　face　with　his　right　hand；　without　certainly　overturning　the　machine；　but　his　pocket　handkerchief　might　have　been　in　California　for　any　good　it　was　to　him　while　he　was　in　the　saddle。　

Yet　you　must　not　think　that　because　Mr。　Hoopdriver　was　a　little　uncomfortable；　he　was　unhappy　in　the　slightest　degree。　In　the　background　of　his　consciousness　was　the　sense　that　ab