brideshead+revisited-第68部分

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　one　time　while　he　and　Kurt　lived　together。　Kurt　was　ill　and　had　a　wound　that　wouldn't　heal。　Sebastian　saw　him　through　that。　Then　they　went　to　Greece　when　Kurt　got　well。　You　know　how　Germans　sometimes　seem　to　discover　a　sense　of　decency　when　they　get　to　a　classical　country。　It　seems　to　have　worked　With　Kurt。　Sebastian　says　he　became　quite　human　in　Athens。　Then　he　got　sent　to　prison；　I　couldn't　quite　make　out　why；　apparently　it　wasn't　particularly　his　fault　…　some　brawl　with　an　official。　Once　he　was　locked　up　the　German　authorities　got　at　him。　It　was　the　time　when　they　were　rounding　up　all　their　nationals　from　all　parts　of　the　world　to　make　them　into　Nazis。　Kurt　didn't　want　to　leave　Greece；　but　the　Greeks　didn't　want　him；　and　he　was　marched　straight　from　prison　with　a　lot　of　other　toughs　into　a　German　boat　and　shipped　home。
　　　　'Sebastian　went　after　him；　and　for　a　year　could　find　no　trace。　Then　in　the　end　he　ran　him　to　earth　dressed　as　a　storm…trooper　in　a　provincial　town。　At　first　he　wouldn't　have　anything　to　do　with　Sebastian；　spouted　all　the　official　jargon　about　the　rebirth　of　his　country；　and　his　belonging　to　his　country；　and　finding　self…realization　in　the　life　of　the　race。　But　it　was　only　skin　deep　with　him。　Six　years　of　Sebastian　had　taught　him　more　than　a　year　of　Hitler；　eventually　he　chucked　it；　admitted　he　hated　Germany；　and　wanted　to　get　out。　I　don't　know　how　much　it　was　simply　the　call　of　the　easy　life；　sponging　on　Sebastian；　bathing　in　the　Mediterranean；　sitting　about　in　caf閟；　having　his　shoes　polished。　Sebastian　says　it　wasn't　entirely　that；　Kurt　had　just　begun　to　grow　up　in　Athens。　It　may　be　he's　right。　Anyway；　he　decided　to　try　and　get　out。　But　it　didn't　work。　He　always　got　into　trouble　whatever　he　did；　Sebastian　said。　They　caught　him　and　put　him　in　a　concentration　camp。　Sebastian　couldn't　get　near　him　or　hear　a　word　of　him；　he　couldn't　even　find　what　camp　he　was　in；　he　hung　about　for　nearly　a　year　in　Germany；　drinking　again；　until　one　day　in　his　cups　he　took　up　with　a　man　who　was　just　out　of　the　camp　where　Kurt　had　been；　and　learned　that　he　had　hanged　himself　in　his　hut　the　first　week。
　　　　'So　that　was　the　end　of　Europe　for　Sebastian。　He　went　back　to　Morocco；　where　he　had　been　happy；　and　gradually　drifted　down　the　coast；　from　place　to　place；　until　one　day　when　he　had　sobered　up　…　his　drinking　goes　in　pretty　regular　bouts　now　…　he　conceived　the　idea　of　escaping　to　the　savages。　And　there　he　was。
　　　　　'I　didn't　suggest　his　ing　home。　I　knew　he　wouldn't　and　he　was　too　weak　still　to　argue　it　out。　He　seemed　quite　happy　by　the　time　I　left。　He'll　never　be　able　to　go　into　the　bush；　of　course；　or　join　the　order；　but　the　Father　Superior　is　going　to　take　charge　of　him。　They　had　the　idea　of　making　him　a　sort　of　under…porter；　there　are　usually　a　few　odd　hangers…on　in　a　religious　house；　you　know；　people　who　can't　quite　fit　in　either　to　the　world　or　the　monastic　rule。　I　suppose　I'm　something　of　the　sort　myself　But　as　I　don't　happen　to　drink；　I'm　more　employable。'
　　　　We　had　reached　the　turn　in　our　walk；　the　stone　bridge　at　the　foot　of　the　last　and　smallest　lake；　under　which　the　swollen　waters　fell　in　a　cataract　to　the　stream　below；　beyond；　the　path　doubled　back　towards　the　house。　We　paused　at　the　parapet　looking　down　into　the　dark　water。
　　　　'I　once　had　a　governess　who　jumped　off　this　bridge　and　drowned　herself。'
　　　　'Yes；　I　know。'
　　　　'How　could　you　know？'
　　　　'It　was　the　first　thing　I　ever　heard　about　you　…　before　I　ever　met　you。'
　　　　'How　very　odd。。。'
　　　　'Have　you　told　Julia　this　about　Sebastian？'
　　　　'The　substance　of　it；　not　quite　as　I　told　you。　She　never　loved　him；　you　know；　as　we　do。'
　　　　'Do'。　The　word　reproached　me；　there　was　no　past　tense　in　Cordelia's　verb　'to　love'。
　　　　'Poor　Sebastian！'　I　said。　'It's　too　pitiful。　How　will　it　end？'
　　　　'I　think　I　can　tell　you　exactly；　Charles。　I've　seen　others　like　him；　and　I　believe　they　are　very　near　and　dear　to　God。　He'll　live　on；　half　in；　half　out　of；　the　munity；　a　familiar　figure　pottering　round　with　his　broom　and　his　bunch　of　keys。　He'll　be　a　great　favourite　with　the　old　fathers；　something　of　a　joke　to　the　novices。　Everyone　will　know　about　his　drinking；　he'll　disappear　for　two　or　three　days　every　month　or　so；　and　they'll　all　nod　and　smile　and　say　in　their　various　accents；　〃Old　Sebastian's　on　the　spree　again；〃　and　then　he'll　e　back　dishevelled　and　shamefaced　and　be　more　devout　for　a　day　or　two　in　the　chapel。　He'll　probably　have　little　hiding　places　about　the　garden　where　he　keeps　a　bottle　and　takes　a　swig　now　and　then　on　the　sly。　They'll　bring　him　forward　to　act　as　guide；　whenever　they　have　an　English　speaking　visitor；　and　he　will　be　pletely　charming　so　that　before　they　go；　they'll　ask　about　him　and　perhaps　be　given　a　hint　that　he　has　high　connections　at　home。　If　he　lives　long　enough；　generations　of　missionaries　in　all　kinds　of　remote　places　will　think　of　him　as　a　queer　old　character　who　was　somehow　part　of　the　Home　of　their　student　days；　and　remember　him　in　their　masses。　He'll　develop　little　eccentricities　of　devotion；　intense　personal　cults　of　his　own；　he'll　be　found　in　the　chapel　at　odd　times　and　missed　when　he's　expected。　Then　one　morning；　after　one　of　his　drinking　bouts；　he'll　be　picked　up　at　the　gate　dying；　and　show　by　a　mere　flicker　of　the　eyelid　that　he　is　conscious　when　they　give　him　the　last　sacraments。　It's　not　such　a　bad　way　of　getting　through　one's　life。'
　　　　I　thought　of　the　youth　with　the　teddy…bear　under　the　flowering　chestnuts。　'It's　not　what　one　would　have　foretold；'　I　said。　'I　suppose　he　doesn't　suffer？'
　　　　'Oh；　yes；　I　think　he　does。　One　can　have　no　idea　what　the　suffering　may　be；　to　be　maimed　as　he　is　…　no　dignity；　no　power　of　will。　No　one　is　ever　holy　without　suffering。　It's　taken　that　form　with　him。。。I've　seen　so　much　suffering　in　the　last　few　years；　there's　so　much　ing　for　everybody　soon。　It's　the　spring　of　love。。。'　and　then　in　condescension　to　my　paganism；　she　added：　'He's　in　a　very　beautiful　place　you　know　by　the　sea　…　white　cloisters；　a　bell　tower；　rows　of　green　vegetables；　and　a　monk　watering　them　when　the　sun　is　low。'
　　　　I　laughed。　'You　knew　I　wouldn't　understand？'
　　　　'You　and　Julia。。。'　she　said。　And　then；　as　we　moved　on　towards　the　house；　'When　you　met　me　last　night　did　you　think；　〃Poor　Cordelia；　such　an　engaging　child；　grown　up　a　plain　and　pious　spinster；　full　of　good　works〃？　Did　you　think　〃thwarted〃？'
　　　　It　was　no　time　for　prevarication。　'Yes；'　I　said；　'I　did；　I　don't　now；　so　much。'
　　　　'It's　funny；'　she　said；　'that's　exactly　the　word　I　thought　of　for　you　and　Julia。　When　we　were　up　in　the　nursery　with　nanny。　〃Thwarted　passion；〃　I　thought。'
　　　　She　spoke　with　that　gentle；　infinitesimal　inflection　of　mockery　which　descended　to　her　from　her　mother；　but　later　that　evening　the　words　came　back　to　me　poignantly。
　　　　Julia　wore　the　embroidered　Chinese　robe　which　she　often　used　when　we　were　dining　alone　at　Brideshead；　it　was　a　robe　whose　weight　and　stiff　folds　stressed　her　repose；　her　neck　rose　exquisitely　from　the　plain　gold　circle　at　her　throat；　her　hands　lay　still　among　the　dragons　in　her　lap。　It　was　thus　that　I　had　rejoiced　to　see　her　nights　without　number；　and　that　night；　watching　her　as　she　sat　between　the　firelight　and　the　shaded　lamp；　unable　to　look　away　for　love　of　her　beauty；　I　suddenly　thought；　'When　else　have　I　seen　her　like　this？　Why　am　I　reminded　of　another　moment　of　vision？'　And　it　came　back　to　me　that　this　was　how　she　had　sat　in　the　liner；　before　the　storm；　this　was　how　she　had　looked；　and　I　realized　that　s　he　had　regained　what　I　thought　she　had　lost　for　ever；　the　magical　sadness　which　had　drawn　me　to　her；　the　thwarted　look　that　had　seemed　to　say；　'Surely　I　was　made　for　some　other　purpose　than　this？'
　　　　That　night　I　woke　in　the　darkness　and　lay　awake　turning　over　in　my　mind　the　conversation　with　Cordelia。　How　I　had　said；　'You　knew　I　would　not　understand。'　How　often；　it　seemed　to　me；　I　was　brought　up　short；　like　a　horse　in　full　stride　suddenly　refusing　an　obstacle；　backing　against　the　spurs；　too　shy　even　to　put　his　nose　at　it　and　look　at　the　thing。
　　　　And　another　image　came　to　me；　of　an　arctic　hut　and　a　trapper　alone　with　his　furs　and　oil　lamp　and　log　fire；　everything　dry　and　ship…shape　and　warm　inside；　and　outside　t