第79章BOOKTHESECOND：THEGOLDENTHREAD(62)

第79章bookthesecond：thegoldenthread(62)

'itisthefashion，'growledtheman.'imeetnodinneranywhere.'

hetookoutablackenedpipe，filledit，lighteditwithflintandsteel，pulledatituntilitwasinabrightglow：then，suddenlyhelditfromhimanddroppedsomethingintoitfrombetweenhisfingerandthumb，thatblazedandwentoutinapuffofsmoke.

'touchthen.'itwastheturnofthemenderofroadstosayitthistime，afterobservingtheseoperations.theyagainjoinedhands.

'tonight？'saidthemenderofroads.

'tonight，'saidtheman，puttingthepipeinhismouth.

'where？'

'here.'

heandthemenderofroadssatontheheapofstoneslookingsilentlyatoneanother，withthehaildrivinginbetweenthemlikeapigmychargeofbayonets，untiltheskybegantoclearoverthevillage.

'showme！'saidthetravellerthen，movingtothebrowofthehill.

'see！'returnedthemenderofroads，withextendedfinger.'yougodownhere，andstraightthroughthestreet，andpastthefountain—'

'tothedevilwithallthat！'interruptedtheother，rollinghiseyeoverthelandscape.'igothroughnostreetsandpastnofountains.well？'

'well！abouttwoleaguesbeyondthesummitofthathillabovethevillage.'

'good.whendoyouceasetowork？'

'atsunset.'

'willyouwakemebeforedeparting？ihavewalkedtwonightswithoutresting.letmefinishmypipe，andishallsleeplikeachild.willyouwakeme？'

'surely.'

thewayfarersmokedhispipeout，putitinhisbreast，slippedoffhisgreatwoodenshoes，andlaydownonhisbackontheheapofstones.hewasfastasleepdirectly.

astheroadmenderpliedhisdustylabour，andthehail-clouds，rollingaway，revealedbrightbarsandstreaksofskywhichwererespondedtobysilvergleamsuponthelandscape，thelittleman（whoworearedcapnow，inplaceofhisblueone）seemedfascinatedbythefigureontheheapofstones.hiseyesweresooftenturnedtowardsit，thatheusedhistoolsmechanically，and，onewouldhavesaid，toverypooraccount.thebronzeface，theyblackhairandbeard，thecoarsewoollenredcap，theroughmedleydressofhomespunstuffandhairyskinsofbeasts，thepowerfulframeattenuatedbyspareliving，andthesullenanddesperatecompressionofthelipsinsleep，inspiredthemenderofroadswithawe.thetravellerhadtravelledfar，andhisfeetwerefootsore，andhisankleschafedandbleeding；hisgreatshoes，stuffedwithleavesandgrass，hadbeenheavytodragoverthemanylongleagues，andhisclotheswerechafedintoholes，ashehimselfwasintosores.stoopingdownbesidehim，theroadmendertriedtogetapeepatsecretweaponsinhisbreastorwherenot；but，invain，forhesleptwithhisarmscrosseduponhim，andsetasresolutelyashislips.fortifiedtownswiththeirstockades，guardhouses，gates，trenches，anddrawbridges，seemedtothemenderofroads，tobesomuchairasagainstthisfigure.andwhenheliftedhiseyesfromittothehorizonandlookedaround，hesawinhissmallfancysimilarfigures，stoppedbynoobstacle，tendingtocentresalloverfrance.

themansleptonindifferenttoshowersofhailandintervalsofbrightness，tosunshineonhisfaceandshadow，tothepatteringlumpsofdulliceonhisbodyandthediamondsintowhichthesunchangedthem，untilthesunwaslowinthewest，andtheskywasglowing.then，themenderofroadshavinggothistoolstogetherandallthingsreadytogodownintothevillage，rousedhim.

'good！'saidthesleeper，risingonhiselbow.'twoleaguesbeyondthesummitofthehill？'

'about.'

'about.good！'

themenderofroadswenthome，withthedustgoingonbeforehimaccordingtothesetofthewind，andwassoonatthefountain，squeezinghimselfinamongtheleankinebroughttheretodrink，andappearingeventowhispertotheminhiswhisperingtoallthevillage.whenthevillagehadtakenitspoorsupper，itdidnotcreeptobed，asitusuallydid，butcameoutofdoorsagain，andremainedthere.acuriouscontagionofwhisperingwasuponit，andalso，whenitgatheredtogetheratthefountaininthedark，anothercuriouscontagionoflookingexpectantlyattheskyinonedirectiononly.monsieurgabelle，chieffunctionaryoftheplace，becameuneasy；wentoutonhishouse-topalone，andlookedinthatdirectiontoo；glanceddownfrombehindhischimneysatthedarkeningfacesbythefountainbelow，andsentwordtothesacristanwhokeptthekeysofthechurch，thattheremightbeneedtoringthetocsinby-and-by.

thenightdeepened.thetreesenvironingtheoldchateau，keepingitssolitarystateapart，movedinarisingwind，asthoughtheythreatenedthepileofbuildingmassiveanddarkinthegloom.upthetwoterraceflightsofstepstherainranwildly，andbeatatthegreatdoor，likeaswiftmessengerrousingthosewithin；uneasyrushesofwindwentthroughthehall，amongtheoldspearsandknives，andpassedlamentingupthestairs，andshookthecurtainsofthebedwherethelastmarquishadslept.east，west，north，andsouth，throughthewoods，fourheavy-treading，unkemptfigurescrushedthehighgrassandcrackedthebranches，stridingoncautiouslytocometogetherinthecourtyard.fourlightsbrokeoutthere，andmovedawayindifferentdirections，andallwasblackagain.

but，notforlong.presently，thechateaubegantomakeitselfstrangelyvisiblebysomelightofitsown，asthoughitweregrowingluminous.then，aflickeringstreakplayedbehindthearchitectureofthefront，pickingouttransparentplaces，andshowingwherebalustrades，arches，andwindowswere.thenitsoaredhigher，andgrewbroaderandbrighter.soon，fromascoreofthegreatwindows，flamesburstforth，andthestonefacesawakened，staredoutoffire.