sk.thegunslinger-第25部分

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eally　pays　for　it　in　silver；　he　thought。　The　price　of　any　evil　　necessary　or　otherwise　　es　due　in　flesh。
〃e　with　me　or　stay；〃　the　gunslinger　said。
The　boy　only　looked　at　him　mutely。　And　to　the　gunslinger；　in　that　final　and　vital　moment　of　uncoupling　from　a　moral　principle；　he　ceased　to　be　Jake　and　became　only　the　boy；　an　impersonality　to　be　moved　and　used。
Something　screamed　in　the　windy　stillness；　he　and　the　boy　both　heard。
The　gunslinger　began；　and　after　a　moment　Jake　came　after。　Together　they　climbed　the　tumbled　rock　beside　the　steely…cold　falls；　and　stood　where　the　man　in　black　had　stood　before　them。　And　together　they　entered　in　where　he　had　disappeared。　The　darkness　swallowed　them。
　
THE　SLOW　MUTANTS
I
The　gunslinger　spoke　slowly　to　Jake　in　the　rising　and　falling　inflections　of　a　dream：
〃There　were　three　of　us：　Cuthbert；　Jamie；　and　I。　We　weren't　supposed　to　be　there；　because　none　of　us　had　passed　from　the　time　of　children。　If　we　had　been　caught；　Cort　would　have　striped　us。　But　we　weren't。　I　don't　think　any　of　the　ones　that　went　before　us　were　caught；　either。　Boys　must　put　on　their　fathers'　pants　in　private；　strut　them　in　front　of　the　mirror；　and　then　sneak　them　back　on　their　hangers；　it　was　like　that。　The　father　pretends　he　doesn't　notice　the　new　way　they　are　hung　up；　or　the　traces　of　boot…polish　mustaches　still　under　their　noses。　Do　you　see？〃
The　boy　said　nothing。　He　had　said　nothing　since　they　had　relinquished　the　daylight。　The　gunslinger　had　talked　hectically；　feverishly；　to　fill　his　silence。　He　had　not　looked　back　at　the　lights　as　they　passed　into　the　lightlessness　beneath　the　mountains；　but　the　boy　had。　The　gunslinger　had　read　the　failing　of　day　in　the　soft　mirror　of　Jake's　cheek：
Now　faint　rose；　now　milk…glass；　now　pallid　silver；　now　the　last　dusk…glow　touch　of　evening；　now　nothing。　The　gunslinger　had　struck　a　false　light　and　they　had　gone　on。
Now　they　were　camped。　No　echo　from　the　man　in　black　returned　to　them。　Perhaps　he　had　stopped　to　rest；　too。　Or　perhaps　he　floated　onward　and　without　running…lights；　through　nighted　chambers。
〃It　was　held　once　a　year　in　the　Great　Hall；〃　the　gunslinger　went　on。　〃We　called　it　The　Hall　of　Grandfathers。　But　it　was　only　the　Great　Hall。〃
The　sound　of　dripping　water　came　to　their　ears。
〃A　courting　rite。〃　The　gunslinger　laughed　deprecatingly；　and　the　insensate　walls　made　the　sound　into　a　loon…like　wheeze。　〃In　the　old　days；　the　books　say；　it　was　the　weling　of　spring。　But　civilization；　you　know。。。。
He　trailed　off；　unable　to　describe　the　change　inherent　in　that　mechanized　noun；　the　death　of　the　romantic　and　its　sterile；　carnal　revenant；　living　only　a　forced　respiration　of　glitter　and　ceremony；　the　geometric　steps　of　courtship　during　the　Easter…night　dance　at　the　Great　Hall　which　had　replaced　the　mad　scribble　of　love　which　he　could　only　intuit　dimly　　hollow　grandeur　in　the　place　of　mean　and　sweeping　passions　which　might　once　have　erased　souls。
〃They　made　something　decadent　out　of　it；〃　the　gunslinger　said。　〃A　play。　A　game。〃　In　his　voice　was　all　the　unconscious　distaste　of　the　ascetic。　His　face；　had　there　been　stronger　light　to　illumine　it；　would　have　shown　change　harshness　and　sorrow。　But　his　essential　force　had　not　been　cut　or　diluted。　The　lack　of　imagination　that　still　remained　in　that　face　was　remarkable。
〃But　the　Ball；〃　the　gunslinger　said。　〃The　Ball。　。　。〃
The　boy　did　not　speak。
〃There　were　five　crystal　chandeliers；　heavy　glass　with　electric　lights。　It　was　all　light；　it　was　an　island　of　light。
〃We　had　sneaked　into　one　of　the　old　balconies；　the　ones　that　were　supposed　to　be　unsafe。　But　we　were　still　boys。　We　were　above　everything；　and　we　could　look　down　on　it　I　don't　remember　that　any　of　us　said　anything。　We　only　looked；　and　we　looked　for　hours。
〃There　was　a　great　stone　table　where　the　gunslingers　and　their　women　sat；　watching　the　dancers。　A　few　of　the　gunslingers　danced；　but　only　a　few。　And　they　were　the　young　ones。　The　other　ones　only　sat；　and　it　seemed　to　me　they　were　half　embarrassed　in　all　that　light；　that　civilized　light。　They　were　revered　ones；　the　feared　ones；　the　guardians；　but　they　seemed　like　hostlers　in　that　crowd　of　cavaliers　with　their　soft　women。　。　。　。
〃There　were　four　circular　tables　loaded　with　food；　and　they　turned　all　the　time。　The　cooks'　boys　never　stopped　ing　and　going　from　seven　until　three　the　next　morning。　The　tables　rotated　like　clocks；　and　we　could　smell　roast　pork；　beef；　lobster；　chickens；　baked　apples。　There　were　ices　and　candies。　There　were　great　flaming　skewers　of　meat。
〃And　Marten　sat　next　to　my　mother　and　father　　I　knew　them　even　from　so　high　above　　and　once　she　and　Marten　danced；　slowly　and　revolvingly；　and　the　others　cleared　the　floor　for　them　and　clapped　when　it　was　over。　The　gunslingers　did　not　clap；　but　my　father　stood　slowly　and　held　his　hands　out　to　her。　And　she　went；　smiling。
〃It　was　a　moment　of　passage；　boy。　A　time　such　as　must　be　at　the　Tower　itself；　when　things　e　together　and　hold　and　make　power　in　time。　My　father　had　taken　control；　had　been　acknowledged　and　singled　out。　Marten　was　the　acknowledger；　my　father　was　the　mover。　And　his　wife　my　mother；　went　to　him；　the　connection　between　them。　Betrayer。
〃My　father　was　the　last　lord　of　light。〃
The　gunslinger　looked　down　at　his　hands。　The　boy　still　said　nothing。　His　face　was　only　thoughtful。
〃I　remember　how　they　danced；〃　the　gunslinger　said　softly。　〃My　mother　and　Marten　the　enchanter。　I　remember　how　they　danced；　revolving　slowly　together　and　apart；　in　the　old　steps　of　courtship。〃
He　looked　at　the　boy；　smiling。　〃But　it　meant　nothing；　you　know。　Because　power　had　been　passed　in　some　way　that　none　of　them　knew　but　all　understood；　and　my　mother　was　locked　root　and　rind　to　the　holder　and　wielder　of　that　power。　Was　it　not　so？　She　went　to　him　when　the　dance　was　over；　didn't　she？　And　clasped　his　hand？　Did　they　applaud？　Did　the　hall　ring　with　it　as　those　pansy…boys　and　their　soft　ladies　applauded　and　lauded　him？　Did　it？　Did　it？〃
Bitter　water　dripped　distantly　in　the　darkness。　The　boy　said　nothing。
〃I　remember　how　they　danced；〃　the　gunslinger　said　softly。　〃I　remember　how　they　danced。　。　。　。　〃He　looked　up　at　the　unseeable　stone　roof　and　it　seemed　for　a　moment　that　he　might　scream　at　it；　rail　at　it；　challenge　it　blindly　　those　dumb　tonnages　of　insensible　granite　that　bore　their　tiny　lives　in　its　stone　intestine。
〃What　hand　could　have　held　the　knife　that　did　my　father　to　his　death？〃
〃I'm　tired；〃　the　boy　said　wistfully。
The　gunslinger　lapsed　into　silence；　and　the　boy　laid　over　and　put　one　hand　between　his　cheek　and　the　stone。　The　little　flame　in　front　of　them　guttered。　The　gunslinger　rolled　a　smoke。　It　seemed　he　could　see　the　crystal　light　still；　in　the　sardonic　hall　of　his　memory；　hear　the　shout　of　accolade；　empty　in　a　husked　land　that　stood　even　then　hopeless　against　a　gray　ocean　of　time。　The　island　of　light　hurt　him　bitterly；　and　he　wished　he　had　never　held　witness　to　it；　or　to　his　father's　cuckoldry。
He　passed　smoke　between　his　mouth　and　nostrils；　looking　down　at　the　boy。　How　we　make　large　circles　in　earth　for　ourselves；　he　thought。　How　long　before　the　daylight　again？
He　slept。
After　the　sound　of　his　breathing　had　bee　long　and　steady　and　regular；　the　boy　opened　his　eyes　and　looked　at　the　gunslinger　with　an　expression　that　was　very　much　like　love。　The　last　light　of　the　fire　caught　in　one　pupil　for　a　moment　and　was　drowned　there。　He　went　to　sleep。
The　gunslinger　had　lost　most　of　his　time　sense　in　the　desert；　which　was　changeless；　he　lost　the　rest　of　it　here　in　these　chambers　under　the　mountains；　which　were　lightless。　Neither　of　them　had　any　means　of　telling　time；　and　the　concept　of　hours　became　meaningless。　In　a　sense；　they　stood　outside　of　time。　A　day　might　have　been　a　week；　or　a　week　a　day。　They　walked；　they　slept；　they　ate　thinly。　Their　only　panion　was　the　steady　thundering　rush　of　the　water；　drilling　its　auger　path　through　the　stone。　They　followed　it；　drank　from　its　flat；　mineral…salted　depth。　At　times　the　gunslinger　thought　he　saw　fugitive　drifting　lights　like　corpse…lamps　beneath　its　surface；　but　supposed　they　were　only　projections　of　his　brain；　which　had　not　forgotten　the　light。　Still；　he　cautioned　the　boy　not　to　put　his　feet　in　the　water。
The　range　finder　in　his　head　took　them　o