Active Service - Stephen Crane (librera reader .TXT) 📗

My Eye,  Wasn'T She Puffed

Up ! Say,  What In hell Do You Suppose All These Jay

Hawking bell-Boys Poured out To The Kerb For? Go

Back To Your Cages,  My Good People-"

 

As Soon As The Carriage Wheeled into Another

Street,  Its Occupants Exchanged easier Smiles,  And

They Must Have Confessed in some Subtle Way Of

Glances That Now At Last They Were Upon Their Own

Mission,  A Mission Undefined but Earnest To Them All.

Coleman Had A Glad Feeling of Being let Into The Family,

Or Becoming one Of Them

 

The Professor Looked sideways At Him And Smiled

Gently. " You Know,  I Thought Of Driving you To

Some Ruins,  But Marjory Would Not Have It. She Flatly

Objected to Any More Ruins. So I Thought We Would

Drive Down To New Phalerum."

Coleman Nodded and Smiled as If He Were Immensely

Pleased,  But Of Course New Phalerum Was To Him No

More Nor-Less Than Vladivostok Or Khartoum.

Neither Place Nor Distance Had Interest For Him.

They Swept Along A Shaded avenue Where The Dust Lay

Thick On The Leaves; They Passed cafes Where Crowds

Were Angrily Shouting over The News In the Little Papers;

They Passed a Hospital Before Which Wounded

Men,  White With Bandages,  Were Taking the Sun; Then

Came Soon To The And Valley Flanked by Gaunt Naked

Mountains,  Which Would Lead Them To The Sea. Sometimes

To Accentuate The Dry Nakedness Of This Valley,

There Would Be A Patch Of Grass Upon Which Poppies

Burned crimson Spots. The Dust Writhed out From

Under The Wheels Of The Carriage; In the Distance The

Sea Appeared,  A Blue Half-Disc Set Between Shoulders Of

Barren Land. It Would Be Common To Say That Coleman

Was Oblivious To All About Him But Marjory. On

The Contrary,  The Parched land,  The Isolated flame Of

Poppies,  The Cool Air From The Sea,  All Were Keenly

Known To Him,  And They Had Developed an Extraordinary

Power Of Blending sympathetically Into His

Mood. Meanwhile The Professor Talked a Great Deal.

And As A Somewhat Exhilarating detail,  Coleman Perceived

That Ms. Wainwright Was Beaming upon Him.

 

At New Phalerum-A Small Collection Of Pale Square

Villas-They Left The Carriage And Strolled,  By The Sea.

The Waves Were Snarling together Like Wolves Amid

The Honeycomb Rocks And From Where The Blue Plane

Sprang Level To The Horizon,  Came A Strong Cold Breeze,

The Kind Of A Breeze Which Moves An Exulting man Or

A Parson To Take Off His Hat And Let His Locks Flutter

And Tug Back From His Brow.

 

The Professor And Mrs. Wainwright Were Left To

Themselves.

 

Marjory And Coleman Did Not Speak For A Time. It

Might Have Been That They Did Not Quite Know Where

To Make A Beginning.  At Last Marjory Asked:

"What Has Become Of Your Splendid Horse?"

 

"Oh,  I'Ve Told The Dragoman To Have Him Sold As

Soon As He Arrives," Said Coleman Absently.

 

" Oh. I'M Sorry  * * I Liked that Horse."

 

"Why? "

 

"Oh,  Because-"

 

"Well,  He Was A Fine-" Then He,  Too,  Interrupted

Himself,  For He Saw Plainly That They Had Not

Come To This Place To Talk About A Horse. Thereat He

Made Speech Of Matters Which At Least Did Not Afford

As Many Opportunities For Coherency As Would The

Horse. Marjory,  It Can'T Be True * * * Is It True,

Dearest * * I Can Hardly Believe It. -I-"

 

" Oh,  I Know I'M Not Nearly Good Enough For You."

 

" Good Enough For Me,  Dear?

 

" They All Told Me So,  And They Were Right ! Why,

Even The American Minister Said It. Everybody Thinks

It."

 

"Why,  Aren 'T They Wretches To Think Of Them

Saying such A Thing! As If-As If Anybody Could Be

Too--"

 

" Do You Know-" She Paused and Looked at

Him With A Certain Timid Challenge. " I Don'T Know

Why I Feel It,  But-Sometimes I Feel That I'Ve Been

I'Ve Been Flung At Your Head."

 

He Opened his Mouth In astonishment. " Flung At

My Head!

 

She Held Up Her Finger. "And If I Thought You

Could Ever Believe It ! "

 

" Is A Girl Flung At A Man'S Head When Her Father

Carries Her Thousands Of Miles Away And The Man

Follows Her All These Miles,  And At Last-"

 

" Her Eyes Were Shining. "And You Really Came To

Greece-On Purpose To-To-"

 

" Confess You Knew It All The Time! Confess!"

The Answer Was Muffled. " Well,  Sometimes I

Thought You Did,  And At Other Times I Thought You-

Didn'T."

 

In A Secluded cove,  In which The Sea-Maids Once Had

Played,  No Doubt,  Marjory And Coleman Sat In silence.

He Was Below Her,  And If He Looked at Her He Had To

Turn His Glance Obliquely Upward. She Was Staring at

The Sea With Woman'S Mystic Gaze,  A Gaze Which Men

At Once Reverence And Fear Since It Seems To Look Into

The Deep,  Simple Heart Of Nature,  And Men Begin To Feel

That Their Petty Wisdoms Are Futile To Control These

Strange Spirits,  As Wayward As Nature And As Pure As

Nature,  Wild As The Play Of Waves,  Sometimes As Unalterable

As The Mountain Amid The Winds; And To

Measure Them,  Man Must Perforce Use A Mathematical

Formula.

 

He Wished that She Would Lay Her Hand Upon His

Hair. He Would Be Happy Then. If She Would Only,

Of Her Own Will,  Touch His Hair Lightly With Her

Fingers-If She Would Do It With An Unconscious Air It

Would Be Even Better. It Would Show Him That She

Was Thinking of Him,  Even When She Did Not Know She

Was Thinking of Him.

 

Perhaps He Dared lay His Head Softly Against Her Knee. 

Did He Dare?

 

As His Head Touched her Knee,  She Did Not Move.

She Seemed to Be Still Gazing at The Sea. Presently

Idly Caressing fingers Played in his Hair Near The

Forehead. He Looked up Suddenly Lifting his Arms.

He Breathed out A Cry Which Was Laden With A Kind Of

Diffident Ferocity. " I Haven'T Kissed you Yet-"

Imprint

Publication Date: 05-19-2014

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