cw.blackalibi-第46部分

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tepid　water　with　a　gardenia　floating　around　in　it。　If　she　lived；　she　knew；　she'd　never　be　able　to　look　at　finger　bowls　again　without　thinking　of　this　night；　living　it　over　again；　if　only　for　a　moment　or　two。　At　some　gay　dinner　party　years　from　now；　in　the　midst　of　the　wine　and　the　chatter；　her　face　would　suddenly　pale　and　her　laughter　freeze　as　the　dark　memory　came　back；　and　people　would　wonder　why　and　ask　her。　If　she　lived。
　　The　last　thing　she　did　before　leaving　was　to　crumble　up　a　roll；　gather　the　pieces　in　a　napkin。　〃For　the　swans；〃　she　smiled　at　the　waiter　as　she　paid　her　check。
　　〃At　this　hour？〃　The　terrified；　unspoken　warning　on　his　face　was　plain　to　read。
　　〃I　like　animals；〃　she　said。　（〃But　not　jaguars；〃　she　added　to　herself。）　She　stood　up；　turned；　walked　slowly　out　toward　the　break　in　the　hedge。　The　carriage　glided　up。　She　put　her　silver　shoe　to　the　step。　〃Here　I　go；〃　she　thought　sickly。
　　Then　she　was　in；　and　the　lanterns　were　withdrawing　through　the　trees。　One　last　one；　a　green　one；　lingered　on　longer　than　all　the　others；　seen　through　a　break　in　the　trees。　Then　that　snuffed　Out　too；　and　the　Madrid　was　gone　into　the　night。
　　He　started　to　whip　up　his　horse；　anxious　to　get　out　of　the　accursed　Bosque　as　fast　as　he　could。
　　〃Drive　siowiy；〃　she　ordered　sharply。　〃It's　too　nice　a　night　to　rush。〃　Then　when　they　came　to　the　side　road；　〃Turn　down　this　way。〃
　　〃Ah；　no；　seсorita；〃　the　old　fellow　almost　whimpered。　〃Not　down　there。　That　is　exactly　where　it　happened　the　last　time。〃
　　I　ought　to　know　if　anybody　does；　she　thought　dismally。　Aloud　she　said；　〃Don't　you　read　the　papers？　It's　on　the　other　side　of　town　now。　It's　not　in　here　any　more！〃　This　in　English；　then　in　her　capsule　Spanish；　and　with　gestures　to　plete　the　thought：　〃No　here。　Otra　parte。〃
　　He　understood；　language　not　being　the　barrier　between　human　beings　that　is　monly　supposed。　〃They　may　be　mistaken；〃　he　whined。
　　〃In；　in！〃　she　insisted。
　　He　headed　his　horse　around　and　reluctantly　turned　in　where　she　had　told　him　to。　It　was　a　long　leafy　tunnel　in　the　moonlight；　tree　meeting　tree　above。　A　greenish…black　tube；　freckled　with　silver。　Infinitely　beautiful；　infinitely　dangerous。　The　horse's　hoofs　resounded　along　its　empty　length　like　a　knell。
　　It　was　lifeless。　The　public　was　giving　the　Bosque　a　wide　berth　these　nights；　all　but　the　one　main　driveway　that　led　straight　out。　It　stretched　on　for　a　while；　straight　as　a　ramrod。　Then　it　started　making　that　leisurely　turn　at　last　that　told　the　lake　was　ing　near。
　　The　moon　wasn't　as　bright　as　the　other　night；　it　was　waning　now；　but　the　lake　still　flashed　out　beside　her　like　a　sheet　of　hammered　silver　when　at　last　they　had　reached　that　place　where　the　road　drew　nearest　to　it　and　it　could　be　seen。　That　unforgettable　place。　The　screen　of　trees　drew　back；　like　a　curtain　parting　for　the　last　act　of　a　tragedy；　and　there　was　just　a　grassy　slope　left　between　her　and　it。
　　She　could　hardly　breathe　any　more；　she　was　choking　with　rigidly　suppressed　yet　steadily　mounting　terror。　〃Stop　here；〃　she　managed　to　articulate。
　　He　either　didn't　hear　her　or　pretended　not　to；　as　an　excuse　for　going　on　past　with　the　least　possible　delay。　She　had　to　strike　him　lightly　and　repeatedly　on　the　back；　as　if　she　were　knocking　on　a　door。　〃　Para；　entiende？　I　said　stop　here。　Wait　for　me。　I　want　to　feed　those　birds　a　minute。〃
　　〃Ah　no；　seсorita；　vбlgame　dios！　〃　he　wailed　almost　in　falsetto。　〃That　is　the　very　way　in　which　it　happened　to　that　other…〃
　　〃Did　you　hear　what　I　said？〃　she　snapped。　〃You　won't　get　a　centavo　that's　ing　to　you　if　you　don't　do　as　you're　told！〃
　　The　carriage　fell　motionless。　She　rose　up　in　it；　stepped　down　to　the　ground。　The　stillness　was　unearthly　now　that　the　horse　had　stopped。　It　was　malign　in　itself；　it　was　so　unnatural。　One　foot　forward；　the　next　forward；　the　first　forward　again。　The　roadway　changed　to　turf；　but　the　ground　remained　level　the　first　few　steps。　Then　it　started　downward；　in　a　gentle；　grassy　decline。　It　wasn't　hard　to　manage　even　in　high…heeled　silver　slippers；　it　wasn't　steep　enough　for　that；　but　it　was　all　she　could　do　to　keep　walking　in　a　straight　line；　she　felt　like　reeling　unsteadily　from　side　to　side。　She　was　almost　drunk　with　terror。　〃I　must　keep　my　head　clear；　if　I　don't；　I'm　a　goner；〃　she　warned　herself。
　　The　carriage　was　slowly　going　up　over　her　head；　behind　her；　as　the　roadway　rose。　She　could　never　be　so　frightened　again　for　the　rest　of　her　life。　She　had　to　keep　talking　to　herself　inwardly。　〃Manfling's　somewhere　around　you；　you　know　it；　even　if　you　can't　see　him。　Look　for　the　locket　first。　Then　stray　out　of　sight　of　the　coachman。　Smoke　a　cigarette。　Shoot　through　your　bag；　without　pulling　it　out；　if　you　have　to…　Is　it　that　bush　there；　over　to　the　left；　ing　up　toward　you？　No；　that's　just　a　bush。〃
　　The　carriage　had　gone　up　as　high　as　it　could　now。　It　was　starting　to　sink　from　sight　behind　the　top　of　the　rampart。
　　The　gleaming　water　was　ing　slowly　up　toward　her。　The　swans；　already　detecting　that　she　had　something　in　her　hand　for　them；　were　starting　to　course　gracefully　in　to　meet　her　along　its　moon…burnished　surface。
　　
　　
　　For　over　three　hours　now　those　same　swans；　floating　asleep；　had　been　the　only　signs　of　life　around　Manning；　inert　as　they　were。　The　rest　was　just　a　piebald　still　life　of　moonlight　and　shadow。　Not　a　stir　came　from　the　reeds　where　Belmonte　crouched　concealed；　and　if　he　hadn't　told　him　where　he　was　going　to　be；　Manning　wouldn't　have　known　anyone　was　in　them。
　　The　circulation　had　long　ago　begun　to　leave　his　own　extremities。　He　pinched　and　kneaded　them　from　time　to　time；　in　preference　to　shifting　his　position　to　ease　them；　but　it　was　a　losing　battle。　He　could　scarcely　feel　the　pinches　themselves　after　a　while。
　　The　moon　was　waning　now　from　the　full　that　had　witnessed　Sally　O'Keefe's　death；　but　it　was　still　large　enough　to　cast　an　aluminum　sheen　where　it　was　unobstructed。　He　looked　down　along　his　own　curved　length　carefully；　to　make　sure　none　of　the　coinlike　disks　of　it　that　splattered　through　the　leaves　struck　him　in　any　place　that　might　be　revealing　from　the　ground：　the　white　of　his　hands；　the　dull　sheen　of　his　silk　socks；　the　glossy　toecaps　of　his　shoes。　The　slightest　thing　like　that　might　have　been　sufficient　to　indicate；　to　a　wary　antagonist；　something　that　didn't　belong　up　in　a　tree。
　　The　strain　had　bee　almost　unendurable。　He　wondered　whether　Belmonte　was　feeling　it　as　much　as　he。　Worse；　probably；　he　had　nothing　to　rest　his　back　against。　He　didn't　bother　looking　at　his　watch。　That　was　a　fool's　stunt；　which　always　made　time　seem　to　stretch　out　longer　than　it　was。　When　she　came；　that　would　be　the　right　time。　Until　she　came；　they'd　wait…even　if　it　meant　staying　up　here　in　this　tree　until　he　fell　out　of　it　from　numbness。　They　weren't　in　this　for　fun。
　　The　slow　clop…clop　of　a　horse　sounded　far　off　in　the　distance　somewhere；　and　sound　had　e　back　into　the　world。　It　was　like　something　carried　through　a　hollow　tube　or　bore；　it　had　that　sort　of　blurred　resonance　to　it。　It　died　out　again；　then　came　back　once　more；　clearer；　nearer；　than　before。　Was　that　she；　now？　It　must　be；　who　else　could　it　be？　A　carriage　alone　on　the　Bosque　at　this　hour；　and　ing　this　way。　Nothing　else　had　traversed　that　road　up　there　since　he　had　taken　up　his　position。　Pleasure　drives　were　a　thing　of　the　past　in　the　Bosque　these　nights。
　　The　hoofbeats　were　clear　and　ringing　now；　belltoned　almost；　for　there　was　nothing　in　the　vast　stillness　around　to　pete　with　them；　and　approaching　more　closely　every　moment。　Manning　caught　himself　taking　deeper　breaths　than　he　had　a　minute　ago；　that　was　his　body　instinctively　trying　to　store　up　oxygen　for　possible　approaching　action。　On　they　came；　jewel　clear；　so　calm；　so　unhurried…in　the　evenness　of　rhythm　that　is　nature's　gift　to　the　horse；　clop…clop；　cloppety…clop。　In　other　circumstances　there　would　have　been　something　almost　soothing　in　their　cadence。　At　last　he　could　even　make　out　the　slight　creak　of　the　axles；　the　whisper　of　the　rubber…tired　wheels　along　the　roadbed。
　　A　woman's　voice　said　something。　The　hoofbeats　faltered　to　a　stop。　There　was　a　slight　protest　from　the　carriage　step；　weighted　down；　released　aga