cw.blackalibi-第15部分

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　severity　to　it；　a　cold　melancholy；　that　nature　lacks。　These　cypresses；　poplars；　weeping　willows；　artfully　disposed　here　and　there；　singly　and　in　copses；　they　were　rooted　where　dead　human　beings　lay。　They　touched　death；　they　sheltered　it；　they　even　lived　and　were　nourished　upon　it。　And　scattered　all　about　under　them；　through　every　opening　in　their　low…hanging　branches；　in　every　space　between　their　trunks；　down　every　vista　and　at　every　turn；　was　a　silent；　soulless　population；　gleaming　white　in　the　wavering　shadows。　A　population　that　seemed　to　be　waiting　some　necromantic　signal　in　the　depths　of　oning　night　to　e　to　swarming；　malignant　life。　A　population　of　angels；　phoenixes；　griffins。　The　very　marble　benches　here　and　there　along　the　paths；　they　seemed　to　be　put　there　not　for　the　living　to　rest　upon　during　the　course　of　their　visits；　but　for　the　use　of　unguessed　shrouded　forms　flitting　along　these　thoroughfares　and　lanes　in　silent　passage　late　at　night。
　　And　over　it　all　hung　a　violet　pall　of　expiring　light；　the　crepusculo；　whose　very　name　was　a　little　death　in　itself。　The　death　of　day。
　　Through　this　land　of　the　dead；　love　made　its　way；　nineteen　years　old；　blood　warm；　eyes　bright；　breath　quick；　heart　pulsing。　She　was　no　longer　running。　She　was　in　now；　that　was　the　main　thing。　It　was　just　a　matter　of　a　minute　or　two　more；　and　it　wouldn't　have　been　respectful　in　such　a　place。　But　she　moved　along　at　an　eager　little　walk；　with　a　double　step　of　added　impetus　every　three　or　four　paces；　that　was　not　quite　a　trot　but　threatened　to　be　one。
　　She　reached　a　little　circular　axis　that　was　a　landmark　to　her。　In　its　center　stood　an　alabaster　urn　on　a　slender　graceful　pediment　that　she　always　used　to　guide　herself　by。　Here　four　paths　Spoked　out。　The　one　she　had　been　following　continued　on　beyond；　into　reaches　of　the　cemetery　that　were　unknown　to　her。　Then　there　was　a　lateral　one　that　crossed　it　at　this　point；　making　two　more。　She　knew　by　experience　you　turned　left　at　this　place　to　reach　her　family's　burial　plot。　Then　ing　back；　of　course；　you　just　did　the　opposite；　turned　right；　to　get　back　on　the　main　avenue　leading　to　the　entrance　gate。
　　It　was　just　a　little　further　on　now。　She　followed　this　lesser；　winding；　graveled　path；　with　its　halfremembered　particulars　of　surrounding。　First　it　led　through　a　depressed　open　treeless　patch；　a　Sort　of　meadow　of　the　dead。　The　depths　of　this　were　inked　in　with　blue　already。　Then　it　climbed　and　wound　its　way　through　a　thick　grove　of　trees；　almost　like　a　tunnel；　and　just　past　that　was　her　destination。　She　hadn't　had　a　chance　to　notice　these　things　much　on　her　previous　visits。　Going；　Rosita　was　always　chattering　away　to　her。　And　ing　back；　more　lingeringly；　there　was　an　arm　about　her　waist　and　a　low　voice　murmuring　in　her　ear。　This　was　the　first　time　she'd　made　her　way　through　here　alone。
　　She　arrived　finally。　She　reached　the　short　but　head…high　length　of　box　hedge　that　ran　along　the　path　for　a　few　feet；　marking　her　family's　plot。　She　turned　in　through　a　gap　in　it；　made　her　way　to　the　newest　of　the　several　monuments　and　markers　it　contained；　a　pylon　of　bone　white；　with　a　bronze　wreath　clamped　to　it　circling　a　simple　inscription：
　　
　　DON　RAFAEL　CONTRERAS　Y　GALB0
　　PRAY　FOR　HIS　SOUL
　　
　　It　was　at　the　far　end　of　the　enclosure。　The　rest　were　just　great…aunts　and　people　she　had　never　known。　He　wouldn't　be　waiting　for　her　in　here；　of　course。　That　would　have　been　bad　taste。　There　was　a　place　they　had…　But　first；　the　respect　due　one's　dead。　She　sank　down　on　one　knee　beside　the　mound；　firmly　put　all　thoughts　of　that　someone　else　out　of　her　mind　for　the　time　being；　lowered　her　head；　murmuring　a　short　prayer　that　was　a　plea　for　forgiveness。　〃Father；　forgive　me　for　fooling　Mother　like　this。　We　didn't　mean　to；　but　we're　both　going　to　be　old　so　long。　I'll　have　him　e　to　the　house　and　meet　her　this　week；　I　promise。〃
　　She　rose　at　last；　spent　several　more　minutes　arranging　the　flowers　she　had　brought　with　her　about　the　base　of　the　pylon；　moving　from　side　to　side　to　shift　them　until　the　effect　suited　her。　Then　she　dipped　her　knees；　crossed　herself；　and　left　the　enclosure；　with　a　lingering　backward　glance。　The　dead　had　received　their　due；　and　now　for　the　living。
　　It　wasn't　very　far　away；　just　a　little　further　over　to　the　left　along　the　same　path。　It　was　a　little　marble　pergola；　a　circular　roof　supported　by　slim　columns；　without　any　walls。　It　didn't　belong　to　anyone；　that　is　to　say；　it　was　a　〃public〃　structure　put　up　by　the　cemetery　itself；　like　the　benches　and　the　landmark　urn　farther　back。　That　was　where　they　always　met。　He'd　be　waiting　for　her　in　there　right　now。　She'd　probably　see　the　ember　of　his　impatient　cigarette　moving　around　restlessly　inside　it　like　a　red　firefly　as　she　came　hurrying　up。　It　was　a　shame；　her　getting　here　late　like　this　would　give　them　hardly　any　time　together　at　all。
　　It　already　looked　indistinct　in　the　dusk　as　she　sighted　it；　a　misty　blue　shape　peering　through　the　haze；　instead　of　clear　white　any　more。　But　what　did　she　care　what　it　looked　like；　it　was　who　was　in　it　that　counted。　She　made　a　little　crowing　sound　of　mischievous　delight　as　she　turned　and　ran　in　between　two　of　the　fluted　columns。　〃Raul；〃　she　greeted　him。　〃Did　you　think　I'd　never…〃
　　It　was　empty。
　　Gone！　He'd　given　her　up；　left　without　waiting…　No；　he　couldn't　have；　the　gateman　had　said　he'd　just　seen　him。　And　if　he'd　tried　to　leave　after　that；　the　gateman　would　have　told　him　that　she　had　arrived　herself　in　the　meanwhile；　and　he　would　have　e　back　looking　for　her。
　　She　stood　there　for　a　moment；　uncertainly；　in　the　clear　floor　space　ringed　by　three　semicircular　backless　benches。　He'd　be　back　in　a　minute。　He　must　have　gone　just　as　far　as　the　entrance；　to　look　for　her　one　last　time；　and　the　gateman　would　surely　tell　him。　They　must　have　missed　one　another　in　some　way；　maybe　while　she　was　behind　tile　hedge　in　her　family's　plot；　he'd　passed　by　unheard　outside。　Without　noticing　her　in　there；　all　black　against　the　shadows。　Or　taken　some　short　cut　to　the　gate　that　didn't　bring　him　by　there　at　all。　She'd　better　wait　here；　where　he　could　find　her；　or　they　might　miss　one　another　a　second　time；　never　get　together　at　all。
　　Just　tonight　that　had　to　happen；　when　the　time　was　so　short　anyway！　She　sat　down　forlornly　on　one　of　the　three　benches。　Presently；　even　in　the　murky　light　that　filled　the　place；　she　made　out　something　on　the　floor。　A　half…smoked　cigarette　lying　at　her　feet。　Another。　A　half　dozen；　strewn　all　over。　She　picked　the　nearest　one　up　gingerly　between　two　fingers；　held　it　directly　under　her　eyes　in　the　obscurity。　Part　of　the　trade　name　still　hadn't　been　consumed。　〃Exquisito。〃　Those　were　his；　she　knew　them。　She　smiled　passionately。　Poor　boy；　she　could　see　him　now；　pacing　back　and　forth；　fretting　at　the　long　delay。
　　She　continued　to　hold　it　for　a　while；　looking　at　it。　It　was　a　part　of　him。　It　was　the　most　she　could　have　of　him　for　a　moment　or　two；　until　he　got　back　here　himself。
　　She　whispered　to　it。　〃Little　cigarette；　does　he　love　me？　Did　he　miss　me；　because　I　wasn't　here？　Tell　me；　how　did　he　act？　Did　he　whisper　my　name　when　he'　held　you　in　his　mouth？　You　should　know；　you　were　very　close　to　him。〃　She　touched　it　caressingly　with　the　tip　of　one　finger。　She　was　very　young　yet。
　　It　was　taking　him　long　to　e　back　from　the　gate。　He　wouldn't　fail　to　e　back；　though；　the　gateman　would　surely　tell　him　he'd　seen　her。　It　would　be　foolish　not　to　wait；　now　that　she　was　here。　This　was　the　only　place　where　they　could　be　unseen；　alone　together　for　a　moment　or　two。　It　was　different　when　she'd　brought　Rosita。　Rosita　was　one's　own　age；　understood；　even　aided　and　abetted　one。　With　Rosita　they　could　have　taken　a　lingering　farewell　of　one　another；　even　out　in　full　sight　at　the　main　gate。　She　would　have　waited　tactfully　out　of　earshot；　or　walked　ahead　of　them；　leaving　them　to　follow　to　the　carriage　with　arms　linked；　heads　inclined　together'。　But　with　Marta　along！　She'd　better　stay　where　she　was。　He'd　show　up　any　minute。
　　How　strange　it　was。　You　met　someone；　and　suddenly　the　whole　world　became　different。　She　remembered　the　first　time　they'd　met。　It　wasn't　so　long　ago；　just　a　few　Sundays　ago；　but　already　she　cou