gs.earthabides-第70部分

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　deacon；　remembering　that　text　about　〃the　sins　of　the　fathers。〃　But　Em　was　speaking：　
　　〃I　asked　'What　law'？〃　she　said。　〃There　are　the　laws　in　the　old　law…books　still；　I　guess。　They　don't　mean　much　to　us；　now　that　things　are　different。　That　old　law；　like　George　said…it　waited　till　somebody　did　something；　and　then　it　punished。　But　the　thing　was　done。　Can　we　take　that　responsibility　now？　There　are　all　the　children。〃　
　　Suddenly　there　seemed　nothing　more　to　say。　They　all　sat　silent；　each　considering　possibilities。　
　　〃No；〃　Ish　found　himself　thinking；　she　does　not　have　a　philosophy。　She　mentions　the　children　and　makes　it　a　special　case；　Yet　there　is　perhaps　something　deeper　even　than　a　philosophy　in　her。　She　is　the　mother；　she　thinks　close　to　all　the　basic　things　of　life。〃　
　　Probably　it　was　not　so　much　a　long　time　that　passed　as　what　seemed　a　long　time。　Then　Ezra　spoke。　
　　〃While　we　sit　here；　even…things　happen　fast　these　days！　We'd　better　do　something。〃　And　then　he　added；　more　as　if　thinking　aloud；　〃I　saw；　in　those　days…yes；　I　saw　lots　of　good　ones　die。　Yes；　a　lot　of　good　ones　have　died。　I　almost　got　used　to　death　。。。　no；　never　quite。〃　
　　〃Should　we　take　a　vote？〃　asked　Ish。　
　　〃What　on？〃　said　George。　
　　Again　there　was　a　pause。　
　　〃We　can　run　him　out；〃　said　Ezra；　〃or　。。。　the　other。　We　can't　imprison　him；　and　what　else　is　there？〃　
　　Then　Em　faced　the　issue　squarely。　
　　〃We　can　vote　Banishment；　or　we　can　vote　Death。〃　
　　There　was　plenty　of　paper　in　the　living…room　desk。　The　children　enjoyed　drawing　pictures　on　it。　After　a　little　hunting　around；　Em　located　four　pencils。　Ish　tore　a　sheet　of　paper　into　four　small　ballots；　kept　one　himself；　and　gave　one　to　each　of　the　others。　With　four　people　to　vote；　there　might；　of　course；　be　a　tie。　
　　Ish　took　his　own　slip　of　paper；　and　wrote　a　big　B　on　it；　and　then　paused。　
　　This　we　do；　not　hastily；　this　we　do；　not　in　passion；　this　we　do；　without　hatred。　
　　This　is　not　the　battle；　when　a　man　strikes　fiercely　and　fear　drives　him　on。　This　is　not　the　hot　quarrel　when　two　strive　for　place　or　the　love　of　a　woman。　
　　Knot　the　rope；　whet　the　ax；　pour　the　poison；　pile　the　faggots。　
　　This　is　the　one　who　killed　his　fellow　unprovoked；　this　is　the　one　who　stole　the　child　away；　this　is　the　one　who　spat　upon　the　image　of　our　God；　this　is　the　one　who　leagued　himself　with　the　Devil　to　be　a　witch；　this　is　the　one　who　corrupted　our　youth；　this　is　the　one　who　told　the　enemy　of　our　secret　places。　
　　We　are　afraid；　but　we　do　not　talk　of　fear。　We　have　many　deep　thoughts　and　doubts；　but　we　do　not　speak　them。　We　say；　〃Justice〃；　we　say；　〃The　Law〃；　we　say；　〃We；　the　people〃；　we　say；　〃The　State。〃　
　　Still　Ish　sat　with　his　pencil　poised　above　the　B　on　his　slip　of　paper。　He　knew；　far　within　the　deeper　reaches　of　his　thought；　that　Charlie's　banishment　would；　in　all　likelihood；　not　solve　the　situation。　Charlie　would　be　back；　he　was　a　strong　and　dangerous　man；　and　could　exert　much　influence　upon　the　younger　people。　〃What's　the　matter？〃　Ish　was　thinking。　〃Am　I　still　just　worrying　about　the　leadership？　Am　I　worrying　that　Charlie　will　replace　me？〃　He　could　not　be　sure。　Yet；　at　the　same　time；　he　knew　that　The　Tribe　faced　here　something　real　and　dangerous　and　even　dreadful；　in　the　long　run　threatening　its　very　existence。　In　that　final　realization　he　knew　that　he　could　write　only　the　one　word　there；　out　of　love　and　responsibility　for　his　children　and　grandchildren。　He　scratched　out　the　B　and　wrote　the　other　word。　Its　five　letters　stared　back　vacantly　at　him；　and　then　for　a　moment　he　had　a　sudden　revulsion　of　feeling。　Was　this　ever　right？　By　writing　that　word；　was　he　not　bringing　back　into　the　world　all　the　beginnings　of　war　and　tyranny；　of　the　oppression　of　the　individual　by　the　mass；　in　themselves　diseases　worse　than　any　which　Charlie　could　carry。　And　why　did　it　all　have　to　move　so　fast？　
　　He　started　to　scratch　the　word　out；　but　stopped　again。　No；　he　was　torn　two　ways；　but　he　could　not　quite　scratch　it。　If　Charlie　should　kill　someone；　that　might　make　it　easier　to　inflict　the　final　penalty；　and　yet　that　was　only　the　old　conventional　way　of　thinking。　The　eye　for　the　eye；　and　the　tooth　for　the　tooth！　To　execute　the　murderer　never　brought　back　the　murdered；　and　was　only　vengeance。　To　be　effective；　punishment　should　not　be　retribution　so　much　as　a　prevention。　
　　How　long　had　he　paused？　He　suddenly　came　to　the　realization　that　he　was　sitting　there　silent；　staring　at　the　paper；　while　the　other　three　were　waiting　for　him。　After　all；　his　was　only　one　vote；　the　others　could　out…vote　him；　and　so　he　could　have　his　conscience　to　himself　and　still　Charlie　would　only　be　banished。　〃Give　me　your　slips；〃　he　said。　
　　They　passed　them　in；　and　he　laid　them　face　up　before　him　on　the　desk。　Four　times　he　looked；　and　he　read：　〃Death　。。。　death　。。。　death　。。。　death。〃　
　　
　　Chapter　8
　　They　shoveled　the　dirt　back　into　the　grave　beneath　the　oak　tree。　They　dragged　branches　and　carried　heavy　stones　to　cover　it；　so　that　what　lay　beneath　would　be　safe　from　burrowing　coyotes。　After　that；　they　all　walked　back；　the　long　mile。　
　　They　kept　close　together；　as　if　needing　one　another's　support。　Ish　walked　among　them；　swinging　his　hammer　in　his　tight　hand。　He　had　had　no　use　for　the　hammer；　but　still　he　had　taken　it　along。　Now　the　downward　pull　of　its　weight　seemed　to　keep　him　firmly　on　the　ground。　He　had　held　it　in　his　hand；　like　a　badge　of　office；　when　they　had　gone　to　find　Charlie　and；　flanked　by　the　boys'　leveled　rifles；　Ish　had　said　the　words　and　heard　Charlie　begin　to　curse　obscenely。　
　　Now　it　would　never　be　the　same　again。　Ish　did　not　like　to　think　of　what　had　happened；　and　when　he　did　think　of　it；　he　felt　a　little　sick；　physically。　Perhaps；　if　it　had　not　been　for　George's　solidity；　they　could　never　have　gone　through　with　it　finally。　George；　with　his　practical　skill；　had　knotted　the　rope　and　set　up　the　ladder。　
　　No；　he　would　never　like　to　think　of　it　in　the　future；　either。　He　was　sure　of　that　also。　This　was　an　end；　and　this　was　also　a　beginning。　It　was　the　end　of　those　twenty…one　years　when　they　had　lived；　now　he　thought；　in　a　kind　of　idyllic　state；　as　it　might　have　been　in　some　old　Garden　of　Eden。　They　had　known　their　troubles；　they　had　even　known　death。　But　it　had　been　simple；　as　he　looked　back　toward　it。　This　was　an　end；　Yet；　it　was　also　a　beginning；　and　a　long　road　lay　ahead。　In　the　past；　there　had　been　only　a　little　group　of　people；　scarcely　more　than　an　overgrown　family。　In　the　future；　there　would　be　the　State；　
　　Yet　there　was　an　irony。　The　State…it　should　be　a　kind　of　nourishing　mother；　protecting　the　individuals　in　their　weakness；　permitting　a　fuller　life。　And　now　the　first　act　of　the　State；　its　originating　function；　had　been　to　bring　death。　Well；　who　could　say？　Likely　enough；　in　the　dim　past　reaches　of　time；　the　State　had　always　sprung　from　the　need　to　crystallize　power　in　some　troublous　time；　and　primitive　power　must　often　have　expressed　itself　in　death。　
　　〃It　was　necessary。。。。　It　was　necessary；〃　he　kept　saying　to　himself。　Yes；　he　could　justify　the　act　on　the　highest　of　all　grounds…the　safety　and　happiness　of　The　Tribe。　By　the　one　sharp　act；　evil　and　ugly　though　it　seemed；　he　and　the　others　had　prevented…so　at　least　they　would　hope…all　that　chain　of　ugliness　and　evil　which　ran　on；　once　started；　through　the　years。　Now…so　at　least　they　would　hope…there　would　be　no　endless　succession　of　blind　babies；　and　of　trembling；　witless　old　men；　and　of　marriages　defiled　even　in　their　consummation。　
　　Yet　he　did　not　like　to　think　about　it。　He　could　justify　it　rationally。　Even　though　the　facts　were　not　wholly　proved；　the　chance　had　been　too　great　to　take。　
　　But　he　would　never　be　sure　how　much　other　motives；　secondary　and　personal；　had　swayed　him。　Guiltily　he　remembered　how　his　heart　had　leaped　when　Ezra's　words　had　given　support　to　his　own　dislike　and　fear；　and　to　his　apprehension　that　his　leadership　was　chaflenged。　Well；　he　would　never　know。　Now；　in　any　case；　it　was　finished。　No；　he　would　only　say；　〃It　is　done。〃　Too　often；　he　remembered　his　history；　executions　had　finished　nothing；　and　dead　men　had　risen　from　their　graves；　and　their　souls　had　marched　on。　But　Charlie　had　not　seemed