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第22部分

bl.necroscope2-第22部分

小说: bl.necroscope2 字数: 每页4000字

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ltering through wispy grey clouds; but now the clouds seemed to mass; the sun was switched off like a light and it grew noticeably darker。
 〃Not cold enough for snow;〃 said George; turning his eyes apprehensively up to the sky。 〃My guess is it's going to chuck it down!〃
 〃Chuck it or bucket?〃 Anne was still reeling from the door's slamming; her expression puzzled。
 〃Fuck it!〃 said George; irreverently。 〃Let's get in!〃
 A moment more and the door was shoved open from inside by the vicar。 He was lean; getting on a bit in years; close to bald。 His one advantage was of great height; so that he could look down on them all。 He had little eyes made huge by thick…lensed spectacles; and a veined beak of a nose that seemed to turn his head as if it were a weathercock。 His thinness gave the impression of a mantis; but at the same time he managed to look owlish。
 A bird of pray! thought George; and grinned to himself。 But at the same time he noted that the old vicar's handshake was warm and full of fort; however trembly; and that his smile was a beam of pure goodness。 Nor was he lacking in his own brand of dry wit。
 〃So glad you could make it;〃 he smiled; and nodded over Yulian in his carry…cot。 The baby was awake; his round eyes moving to and fro。 The vicar chucked him under his chubby chin; said; 〃Young man; it's always a good idea to be early for one's christening; punctual for one's wedding; and as late as one can get for one's funeral!〃 Then he peered frowningly at the door。
 The freak gust of wind had disappeared; taking its confetti with it。 〃What happened here?〃 the old man lifted his eyebrows。 〃That's odd! I had thought the bolt was home。 But in any case; it takes a wind of some power to slam shut a door heavy as this one。 Perhaps we're in for a storm。〃 At the foot of the door a bolt dragged squealingly along the groove it had worn in old stone flags; and thudded down into its bolthole as the vicar gave the door a final push。 〃There!〃 He wiped his hands; nodded his satisfaction。
 Not such a boring old fart after all; all three thought the identical thought as he led them inside and up to the font。
 In his time; the old clergyman had baptised Georgina; he'd married her; too; and was aware that she was now a widow。 This was the church her parents had attended for most of their declining years; the church her father had attended as a boy and young man。 There was no need for long preliminaries; and so he began at once。 As George and Anne put the cot down; and as Georgina took up Yulian in her arms; he began to intone: 〃Hath this child been already baptised; or no?〃
 〃No;〃 Georgina shook her head。
 〃Dearly beloved;〃 the vicar began in earnest; 〃foreasmuch as all men are conceived and born in sin…〃
 Sin; thought Georgina; the old man's words flowing over her。 Yulian wasn't conceived in sin。 This had ever been a part of the service that got her back up。 Sin; indeed! Conceived in joy and love and sweetest sweet pleasure; yes…unless pleasure were to be construed as sin。。。
 She looked down at Yulian in her arms; he was alert; staring at the vicar as he mumbled over his book。 It was a funny expression on the baby's face: not quite vacant; not exactly a drool。 Somehow intense。 They had all kinds of looks; babies。
 〃。。。 that thou wilt mercifully look upon this child; wash him; sanctify him with the Holy Ghost; that he; being…〃
 The Holy Ghost。 Ghosts had stirred under those stirless trees on the cruciform hills; but in no way holy ones。 Unholy ones!
 Thunder rumbled distantly and the high stained glass windows brightened momentarily from a far flash of lightning before falling into deeper gloom。 A light burned over the font; however; sufficient for the vicar's eyes behind their thick lenses。 He shivered visibly as he read his lines; for suddenly the temperature had seemed to fall dramatically。
 The old man paused for a moment; looked up and blinked。 His eyes went from the faces of the three adults to the baby; paused there for a moment; blinked rapidly。 He looked at the light over the font; then at the high windows。 For all his shivering; sweat gleamed on his brow and upper lip。 〃I。。。 I。。。〃 he said。
 〃Are you all right?〃 George was concerned。 He took the vicar's arm。
 〃A cold;〃 the old man tried to smile; only succeeding in looking sick。 His lips seemed to stick to his teeth; which were false and rather loose; and he was immediately apologetic。 〃I'm sorry; but this is not really surprising。 A draughty place; you know? But don't worry; I won't let you down。 We'll get this finished。 It just came on so quickly; that's all。〃 The sick smile twitched from his face。
 〃After this;〃 said Anne; 〃you should spend what's left of the weekend in bed!〃
 〃I believe I will; my dear。〃 Fumblingly; the vicar went back to his text。
 Georgina said nothing。 She felt the strangeness。 Some…thing was unreal; out of focus。 Did churches frown? This one was frowning。 It had been hostile from the moment they'd arrived。 That's what was wrong with the vicar: he could feel it too; but he didn't know what it was。
 But how do I know what it is? Georgina wondered。 Have I felt it before?
 〃。。。They brought young children to Christ; that he should touch them; and his disciples rebuked those that brought them。。。〃
 Georgina felt the church groaning around her; trying to expel her。 No; trying to expel。。。 Yulian? She looked at the baby and he looked back: his face broke into that unsmile which small babies smile。 But his eyes were fixed; steady; unblinking。 Even as she stared at him; she saw those darling eyes swivel in their sockets to gaze full upon the old vicar。 Nothing wrong with that…it was just that it had looked so deliberate。
 Yulian is ordinary! Georgina denied what she was thinking。 She'd had this feeling before and denied it; and now she must do it again。 He is ordinary! It was her; not the baby。 She was blaming him for Ilya。 It was the only explanation。
 She glanced at George and Anne; and they smiled back reassuringly。 Didn't they feel the cold; the strangeness? They obviously thought she was concerned about the vicar; the service。 Other than that; they felt nothing。 Oh; maybe they felt how draughty the place was; but that was all。
 Georgina felt more than the cold。 And so did the vicar。 He was skipping lines now; hurrying through the service almost mechanically; about as human as some gaunt robot penguin。 He avoided looking at them; especially Yulian。 Maybe he could feel the infant's eyes on him; unwaveringly。
 〃Dearly beloved;〃 the old man was chanting at Anne and George now; the godparents; 〃ye have brought this child here to be baptised。。。〃
 I have to stop it。 Georgina's thoughts were growing wilder。 She started to panic。 Have to; before it…but before what?…happens!
 〃。。。to release him of his sins; to sanctify him with。。。
 Outside; much closer now; thunder rumbled; acpanied by lightning that lit up the west…facing windows and sent kaleidoscopic beams of bright colours lancing through the interior。 The group about the font was first gold; then green; finally crimson。 Yulian was blood in Georgina's arms; his eyes were blood where they stared at the vicar。
 At the back of the church; under the pulpit; almost unnoticed all of this time; a funereal man had been sweeping up; his broom scraping on the stone flags。 Now; for no apparent reason; he threw the broom down; tore off his apron and rolled it up; almost ran from the church。 He could be heard grumbling to himself; angry about something。 Another flash of lightning turned him blue; green; finally white as an undeveloped photograph as he reached the door and plunged out of sight。
 〃Eccentric!〃 The vicar; seeming a little more in control of himself; frowned after him; blinked at his abrupt disappearance。 〃He cleans the church because he has a 〃feel〃 for it! So he tells me。〃
 〃Er; can we get on?〃 George had apparently had enough of interruptions。
 〃Of course; of course;〃 the old man peered again at his book; skipped several more lines。 〃Er。。。 promise that you are his sureties; that he will renounce the devil and all his works; and constantly believe。。。〃
 Yulian had also had enough。 He began to kick; gathered air for a howling session。 His face puffed up and 

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