Selected Stories (9781440673832) (31 page)

Read Selected Stories (9781440673832) Online

Authors: Mark (EDT) E.; Mitchell Forster

‘But these beautiful thoughts are a poor business, are they not?' she continued, addressing Feo, who was losing his gallant air and becoming bewildered. ‘They're hardly enough to grow old on. I think I would give all my imagination, all my skill with words, if I could recapture one crude fact, if I could replace one single person whom I have broken.'
‘Quite so, madam,' he responded, with downcast eyes.
‘If only I could find someone here who would understand me, to whom I could confess, I think I should be happier. I have done so much harm in Vorta, dear Feo—'
Feo raised his eyes. Colonel Leyland struck his stick on the parquetry floor.
‘—and at last I thought I would speak to you, in case you understood me. I remembered that you had once been very gracious to me—yes, gracious: there is no other word. But I have harmed you also: how could you understand?'
‘Madam, I understand perfectly,' said the concierge, who had recovered a little and was determined to end the distressing scene, in which his reputation was endangered, and his vanity aroused only to be rebuffed. ‘It is you who are mistaken. You have done me no harm at all. You have benefited me.'
‘Precisely,' said Colonel Leyland. ‘That is the conclusion of the whole matter. Miss Raby has been the making of Vorta.'
‘Exactly, sir. After the lady's book, foreigners come, hotels are built, we all grow richer. When I first came here, I was a common ignorant porter who carried luggage over the passes; I worked, I found opportunities, I was pleasing to the visitors—and now!' He checked himself suddenly. ‘Of course I am still but a poor man. My wife and children—'
‘Children!' cried Miss Raby, suddenly seeing a path of salvation. ‘What children have you?'
‘Three dear little boys,' he replied, without enthusiasm.
‘How old is the youngest?'
‘Madam, five.'
‘Let me have that child,' she said impressively, ‘and I will bring him up. He shall live among rich people. He shall see that they are not the vile creatures he supposes, always clamouring for respect and deference and trying to buy them with money. Rich people are good: they are capable of sympathy and love: they are fond of the truth; and when they are with each other they are clever. Your boy shall learn this, and he shall try to teach it to you. And when he grows up, if God is good to him he shall teach the rich: he shall teach them not to be stupid to the poor. I have tried myself, and people buy my books and say that they are good, and smile and lay them down. But I know this: so long as the stupidity exists, not only our charities and missions and schools, but the whole of our civilization, are vain.'
It was painful for Colonel Leyland to listen to such phrases. He made one more effort to rescue Miss Raby. ‘Je vous prie de ne pas—' he began gruffly, and then stopped, for he remembered that the concierge must know French. But Feo was not attending, nor, of course, had he attended to the lady's prophecies. He was wondering if he could persuade his wife to give up the little boy, and, if he did, how much they dare ask from Miss Raby without repulsing her.
‘That will be my pardon,' she continued, ‘if out of the place where I have done so much evil I bring some good. I am tired of memories, though they have been very beautiful. Now, Feo, I want you to give me something else: a living boy. I shall always puzzle you; and I cannot help it. I have changed so much since we met, and I have changed you also. We are both new people. Remember that; for I want to ask you one question before we part, and I cannot see why you shouldn't answer it. Feo! I want you to attend.'
‘I beg your pardon, madam,' said the concierge, rousing himself from his calculations. ‘Is there anything I can do for you?'
‘Answer “yes” or “no”; that day when you said you were in love with me—was it true?'
It was doubtful whether he could have answered, whether he had now any opinion about that day at all. But he did not make the attempt. He saw again that he was menaced by an ugly, withered, elderly woman, who was trying to destroy his reputation and his domestic peace. He shrank towards Colonel Leyland, and faltered: ‘Madam, you must excuse me, but I had rather you did not see my wife; she is so sharp. You are most kind about my little boy; but, madam, no, she would never permit it.'
‘You have insulted a lady!' shouted the colonel, and made a chivalrous movement of attack. From the hall behind came exclamations of horror and expectancy. Someone ran for the manager.
Miss Raby interposed, saying, ‘He will never think me respectable.' She looked at the dishevelled Feo, fat, perspiring, and unattractive, and smiled sadly at her own stupidity, not at his. It was useless to speak to him again; her talk had scared away his competence and his civility, and scarcely anything was left. He was hardly more human than a frightened rabbit. ‘Poor man,' she murmured, ‘I have only vexed him. But I wish he would have given me the boy. And I wish he would have answered my question, if only out of pity. He does not know the sort of thing that keeps me alive.' She was looking at Colonel Leyland, and so discovered that he too was discomposed. It was her peculiarity that she could only attend to the person she was speaking with, and forgot the personality of the listeners. ‘I have been vexing you as well: I am very silly.'
‘It is a little late to think about me,' said Colonel Leyland grimly.
She remembered their conversation of yesterday, and understood him at once. But for him she had no careful explanation, no tender pity. Here was a man who was well born and well educated, who had all those things called advantages, who imagined himself full of insight and cultivation and knowledge of mankind. And he had proved himself to be at the exact spiritual level of the man who had no advantages, who was poor and had been made vulgar, whose early virtue had been destroyed by circumstance, whose manliness and simplicity had perished in serving the rich. If Colonel Leyland also believed that she was now in love with Feo, she would not exert herself to undeceive him. Nor indeed would she have found it possible.
From the darkening valley there rose up the first strong singing note of the campanile, and she turned from the men towards it with a motion of love. But that day was not to close without the frustration of every hope. The sound inspired Feo to make conversation, and, as the mountains reverberated, he said: ‘Is it not unfortunate, sir? A gentleman went to see our fine new tower this morning and he believes that the land is slipping from underneath, and that it will fall. Of course it will not harm us up here.'
His speech was successful. The stormy scene came to an abrupt and placid conclusion. Before they had realized it, she had taken up her
Baedeker
and left them, with no tragic gesture. In that moment of final failure, there had been vouchsafed to her a vision of herself, and she saw that she had lived worthily. She was conscious of a triumph over experience and earthly facts, a triumph magnificent, cold, hardly human, whose existence no one but herself would ever surmise. From the view terrace she looked down on the perishing and perishable beauty of the valley, and, though she loved it no less, it seemed to be infinitely distant, like a valley in a star. At that moment, if kind voices had called her from the hotel, she would not have returned. ‘I suppose this is old age,' she thought. ‘It's not so very dreadful.'
No one did call her. Colonel Leyland would have liked to do so; for he knew she must be unhappy. But she had hurt him too much; she had exposed her thoughts and desires to a man of another class. Not only she, but he himself and all their equals, were degraded by it. She had discovered their nakedness to the alien.
People came in to dress for dinner and for the concert. From the hall there pressed out a stream of excited servants, filling the lounge as an operatic chorus fills the stage, and announcing the approach of the manager. It was impossible to pretend that nothing had happened. The scandal would be immense, and must be diminished as it best might.
Much as Colonel Leyland disliked touching people he took Feo by the arm, and then quickly raised his finger to his forehead.
‘Exactly, sir,' whispered the concierge. ‘Of course we understand—Oh, thank you, sir, thank you very much: thank you very much indeed!'
EXPLANATORY NOTES
THE STORY OF A PANIC
1
“Satan finds some mischief still for—.”
“Against Idleness and Mischief,” by Isaac Watts (1674-1748).
2
facchino.
In Italian, a porter.
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE HEDGE
1
Lee-Metford.
A type of rifle used by the British military in the 1880s, predecessor of the Lee-Enfield.
THE CELESTIAL OMNIBUS
1
Surbiton.
The popular characterization of this south London suburb as the epitome of English middlebrow affluence is illustrated not only in “The Celestial Omnibus,” but in
The Good Life
(also known as
Good Neighbours),
a BBC situation comedy produced more than half a century later and also set in Surbiton.
2
Browne.
Sir Thomas Browne (1605-1682), physician and author of
Religio Medici
(1635) and
Pseudodoxia Epidemica
(1646), among other works.
3
Acheron.
The river of woe, one of the five rivers of Hades.
4
‘ “Standing aloof in giant ignorance
...” ' “To Homer,” by John Keats (1818).
5
Mrs Gamp and Mrs Harris.
Characters, along with Mrs. Prig, in Charles Dickens's novel
The Life and Adventures of Martin Chuzzlewit
(1844). Mrs. Harris, a figment of Mrs. Gamp's imagination, also makes an appearance in chapter 9 of Forster's
A Room with a View:
“Poor old man! What was his name?”
“Harris,” said Lucy glibly.
“Let's hope that Mrs. Harris there warn't no sich person,”
said her mother.
Cecil nodded intelligently.
6
Telos.
In Greek, end or completion.
OTHER KINGDOM
1
Croesus. The prosperous last king of Lydia in Asia Minor (560-546 B.C.), who was defeated and captured by Cyrus the Great of Persia about eleven years into his reign. Later, the name “Croesus” came to denote any wealthy man.
2
Veii. An ancient Etruscan city, located north of Rome, to which it finally succumbed after a ten-year siege in 396 B.C.
THE CURATE'S FRIEND
1
the Pelagians.
Pelagius was a British monk convicted of heresy in 417, after he argued against the existence of original sin and the necessity of infant baptism.
THE MACHINE STOPS
1
Lafcadio Hearn, Carlyle, Mirabeau.
Although the Greek-Irish writer Lafcadio Hearn (1850-1904) is best remembered for his twelve books about Japan, he also wrote extensively on English and American literature. Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881), the British historian and essayist, was the author of
The French Revolution, A History
(1837), among many other works. Honoré Gabriel Riqueti, Comte de Mirabeau (1749-1791), was a French statesman and aristocrat who attempted to pave the way toward a constitutional monarchy during the early part of the French Revolution. The other names in this list are inventions of Forster's.
THE POINT OF IT
1
The lines quoted are from Tennyson's
Ulysses
(1842).
CO-ORDINATION
1
‘Ces demoiselles ont un vrai elan vers la gloire.'
“These young ladies have a true impulse toward glory.”
THE STORY OF THE SIREN
1
...
something rich and strange.
Shakespeare,
The Tempest,
I.ii.404.
2
San Biagio, or Saint Blaise, the bishop of Sebaste in Cappadocia, elected to live as a hermit in a cave. Birds fed him and wild animals gathered round him to be blessed. Later, he was captured by soldiers, tortured, imprisoned, and, in 316, beheaded for refusing to worship pagan gods. His spirit is invoked to cure illnesses, specifically of the throat.
The bones of San Biagio are said to be located in the Renaissance temple dedicated to his memory near the Tuscan town of Montepulciano; however, there is also a Norman church dedicated to the saint in the Sicilian city of Agrigento, closer to where “The Story of the Siren” takes place.
THE ETERNAL MOMENT
1
‘But woe to him through whom the offence cometh.'
Matt. 18:7.
FOR THE BEST IN PAPERBACKS, LOOK FOR THE
In every corner of the world, on every subject under the sun, Penguin represents quality and variety—the very best in publishing today.

Other books

The Forfeit by Cullum, Ridgwell
Wake Up Dead by Roger Smith
Revival by Stephen King
Settlers of the Marsh by Frederick Philip Grove