a girl of the limberlost-第39节

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sorry　I　am。〃



〃You've　got　something　to　be　sorry　for；〃　said　Mrs。　Comstock；

〃but　likely　we　ain't　thinking　of　the　same　thing。　　It　hurts

me　less　to　know　the　truth；　than　to　live　in　ignorance。　

If　Mag　had　the　sense　of　a　pewee；　she'd　told　me　long　ago。　

That's　what　hurts　me；　to　think　that　both　of　you　knew

Robert　was　not　worth　an　hour　of　honest　grief；　yet　you'd　let

me　mourn　him　all　these　years　and　neglect　Elnora　while　I

did　it。　　If　I　have　anything　to　forgive　you；　that　is　what　it　is。〃



Wesley　removed　his　hat　and　sat　on　a　bench。



〃Katharine；〃　he　said　solemnly；　〃nobody　ever　knows　how

to　take　you。〃



〃Would　it　be　asking　too　much　to　take　me　for　having　a　few

grains　of　plain　common　sense？〃　she　inquired。　　〃You've　known

all　this　time　that　Comstock　got　what　he　deserved；

when　he　undertook　to　sneak　in　an　unused　way　across　a

swamp；　with　which　he　was　none　too　familiar。　　Now　I

should　have　thought　that　you'd　figure　that　knowing　the

same　thing　would　be　the　best　method　to　cure　me　of　pining

for　him；　and　slighting　my　child。〃



〃Heaven　only　knows　we　have　thought　of　that；　and

talked　of　it　often；　but　we　were　both　too　big　cowards。　

We　didn't　dare　tell　you。〃



〃So　you　have　gone　on　year　after　year；　watching　me

show　indifference　to　Elnora；　and　yet　a　little　　horse…sense

would　have　pointed　out　to　you　that　she　was　my　salvation。

Why　look　at　it！　　Not　married　quite　a　year。　　All　his　vows

of　love　and　fidelity　made　to　me　before　the　Almighty

forgotten　in　a　few　months；　and　a　dance　and　a　Light　Woman　so

alluring　he　had　to　lie　and　sneak　for　them。　　What　kind　of　a

prospect　is　that　for　a　life？　　I　know　men　and　women。　

An　honourable　man　is　an　honourable　man；　and　a　liar　is　a　liar；

both　are　born　and　not　made。　　One　cannot　change　to　the

other　any　more　than　that　same　old　leopard　can　change

its　spots。　　After　a　man　tells　a　woman　the　first　untruth

of　that　sort；　the　others　come　piling　thick；　fast；　and

mountain　high。　　The　desolation　they　bring　in　their　wake

overshadows　anything　I　have　suffered　completely。　　If　he

had　lived　six　months　more　I　should　have　known　him　for　what

he　was　born　to　be。　　It　was　in　the　blood　of　him。　　His　father

and　grandfather　before　him　were　fiddling；　dancing　people；　but

I　was　certain　of　him。　　I　thought　we　could　leave　Ohio　and

come　out　here　alone；　and　I　could　so　love　him　and　interest

him　in　his　work；　that　he　would　be　a　man。　　Of　all　the　fool；

fruitless　jobs；　making　anything　of　a　creature　that　begins

by　deceiving　her；　is　the　foolest　a　sane　woman　ever　undertook。　

I　am　more　than　sorry　you　and　Margaret　didn't　see　your　way

clear　to　tell　me　long　ago。　　I'd　have　found　it　out　in　a

few　more　months　if　he　had　lived；　and　I　wouldn't　have

borne　it　a　day。　　The　man　who　breaks　his　vows　to　me　once；

doesn't　get　the　second　chance。　　I　give　truth　and　honour。　

I　have　a　right　to　ask　it　in　return。　　I　am　glad　I　understand

at　last。　　Now；　if　Elnora　will　forgive　me；　we　will　take　a　new

start　and　see　what　we　can　make　out　of　what　is　left　of　life。　

If　she　won't；　then　it　will　be　my　time　to　learn　what　suffering

really　means。〃



〃But　she　will；〃　said　Wesley。　　〃She　must！　　She　can't

help　it　when　things　are　explained。〃



〃I　notice　she　isn't　hurrying　any　about　coming　home。　

Do　you　know　where　she　is　or　what　she　is　doing？〃



〃I　do　not。　　But　likely　she　will　be　along　soon。　　I　must

go　help　Billy　with　the　night　work。　　Good…bye；　Katharine。　

Thank　the　Lord　you　have　come　to　yourself　at　last！〃



They　shook　hands　and　Wesley　went　down　the　road　while

Mrs。　Comstock　entered　the　cabin。　　She　could　not　swallow　food。　

She　stood　in　the　back　door　watching　the　sky　for　moths；

but　they　did　not　seem　to　be　very　numerous。　　Her　spirits

sank　and　she　breathed　unevenly。　　Then　she　heard　the

front　screen。　　She　reached　the　middle　door　as　Elnora

touched　the　foot　of　the　stairs。



〃Hurry；　and　get　ready；　Elnora；〃　she　said。　　〃Your　supper

is　almost　spoiled　now。〃



Elnora　closed　the　stair　door　behind　her；　and　for　the　first

time　in　her　life；　threw　the　heavy　lever　which　barred　out

anyone　from　down　stairs。　　Mrs。　Comstock　heard　the　thud；

and　knew　what　it　meant。　　She　reeled　slightly　and　caught

the　doorpost　for　support。　　For　a　few　minutes　she　clung

there；　then　sank　to　the　nearest　chair。　　After　a　long　time

she　arose　and　stumbling　half　blindly；　she　put　the　food　in

the　cupboard　and　covered　the　table。　　She　took　the　lamp

in　one　hand；　the　butter　in　the　other；　and　started　to　the

spring　house。　　Something　brushed　close　by　her　face；　and　she

looked　just　in　time　to　see　a　winged　creature　rise　above　the

cabin　and　sail　away。



〃That　was　a　night　bird；〃　she　muttered。　　As　she　stopped

to　set　the　butter　in　the　water；　came　another　thought。　

〃Perhaps　it　was　a　moth！〃　　Mrs。　Comstock　dropped　the

butter　and　hurried　out　with　the　lamp；　she　held　it　high

above　her　head　and　waited　until　her　arms　ached。　

Small　insects　of　night　gathered；　and　at　last　a　little

dusty　miller；　but　nothing　came　of　any　size。



〃I　must　go　where　they　are；　if　I　get　them；〃　muttered

Mrs。　Comstock。



She　went　to　the　barn　after　the　stout　pair　of　high　boots

she　used　in　feeding　stock　in　deep　snow。　　Throwing　these

beside　the　back　door　she　climbed　to　the　loft　over　the　spring

house；　and　hunted　an　old　lard　oil　lantern　and　one　of　first

manufacture　for　oil。　　Both　these　she　cleaned　and　filled。　

She　listened　until　everything　up　stairs　had　been　still　for

over　half　an　hour。　　By　that　time　it　was　past　eleven　o'clock。　

Then　she　took　the　lantern　from　the　kitchen；　the　two　old

ones；　a　handful　of　matches；　a　ball　of　twine；　and　went　from

the　cabin；　softly　closing　the　door。



Sitting　on　the　back　steps；　she　put　on　the　boots；　and　then

stood　gazing　into　the　perfumed　June　night；　first　in　the

direction　of　the　woods　on　her　land；　then　toward　the　Limberlost。　

Its　outline　was　so　dark　and　forbidding　she　shuddered

and　went　down　the　garden；　following　the　path　toward　the

woods；　but　as　she　neared　the　pool　her　knees　wavered　and

her　courage　fled。　　The　knowledge　that　in　her　soul　she　was

now　glad　Robert　Comstock　was　at　the　bottom　of　it　made　a

coward　of　her；　who　fearlessly　had　mourned　him　there；

nights　untold。　　She　could　not　go　on。　　She　skirted　the

back　of　the　garden；　crossed　a　field；　and　came　out　on

the　road。　　Soon　she　reached　the　Limberlost。　　She　hunted

until　she　found　the　old　trail；　then　followed　it　stumbling

over　logs　and　through　clinging　vines　and　grasses。　

The　heavy　boots　clumped　on　her　feet；　overhanging　branches

whipped　her　face　and　pulled　her　hair。　　But　her　eyes　were

on　the　sky　as　she　went　straining　into　the　night；　hoping　to

find　signs　of　a　living　creature　on　wing。



By　and　by　she　began　to　see　the　wavering　flight　of　something

she　thought　near　the　right　size。　　She　had　no　idea

where　she　was；　but　she　stopped；　lighted　a　lantern　and

hung　it　as　high　as　she　could　reach。　　A　little　distance　away

she　placed　the　second　and　then　the　third。　　The　objects

came　nearer　and　sick　with　disappointment　she　saw　that

they　were　bats。　　Crouching　in　the　damp　swamp　grasses；

without　a　thought　of　snakes　or　venomous　insects；　she

waited；　her　eyes　roving　from　lantern　to　lantern。　　Once　she

thought　a　creature　of　high　flight　dropped　near　the　lard　oil

light；　so　she　arose　breathlessly　waiting；　but　either　it

passed　or　it　was　an　illusion。　　She　glanced　at　the　old　lantern；

then　at　the　new；　and　was　on　her　feet　in　an　instant　creeping　close。　

Something　large　as　a　small　bird　was　fluttering　around。　

Mrs。　Comstock　began　to　perspire；　while　her　hand　shook　wildly。　

Closer　she　crept　and　just　as　she　reached　for　it；　something

similar　swept　past　and　both　flew　away　together。



Mrs。　Comstock　set　her　teeth　and　stood　shivering。　　For　a

long　time　the　locusts　rasped；　the　whip…poor…wills　cried　and

a　steady　hum　of　night　life　throbbed　in　her　ears。　　Away　in

the　sky　she　saw　something　coming　when　it　was　no　larger

than　a　falling　leaf。　　Straight　toward　the　light　it　flew。　

Mrs。　Comstock　began　to　pray　aloud。



〃This　way；　O　Lord！　　Make　it　come　this　way！　　Please！

O　Lord；　send　it　lower！〃



The　moth　hesitated　at　the　first　light；　then　slowly；

easily　it　came　toward　the　second；　as　if　following　a　path

of　air。　　It　touched　a　leaf　near　the　lantern　and　settled。　

As　Mrs。　Comstock　reached　for　it　a　thin　yellow　spray　wet

her　hand　and　the　surrounding　leaves。　　When　its　wings

raised　above　its　back；　her　fingers　came　together。　

She　held　the　moth　to　the　light。　　It　was　nearer　brown　than

yellow；　and　she　remembered　having　seen　some　like　it　in

the　boxes　that　afternoon。　　It　was　not　the　one　needed　to

complete　the　collection；　but　Elnora　might　want　it；　so

Mrs。　Comstock　held　on。　　Then　the　Almighty　was　kind；

or　nature　was　sufficient；　as　you　look　at　it；　for　following

the　law　of　its　being　when　disturbed；　the　moth　again　threw

the　spray　by　which　some　suppose　it　attracts　its　kind；

and　liberally　sprinkled　Mrs。　Comstock's　dress　front

and　arms。　　From　that　instant；　she　became　the　best　moth

bait　ever　invented。　　Every　Polyphemus　in　range　hastened

to　her；　and