the story of an african farm-第19部分

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Ah；　well；　there　is　a　land　where　they　part　no　more；　where　saints　immortal

reign。



〃I　sit　here　alone；　and　I　think　of　you。　　Will　you　forget　the　old　man？　　When

you　wake　tomorrow　he　will　be　far　away。　　The　old　horse　is　lazy；　but　he　has

his　stick　to　help　him；　that　is　three　legs。　　He　comes　back　one　day　with　gold

and　diamonds。　　Will　you　welcome　him？　　Well；　we　shall　see。　　I　go　to　meet

Waldo。　　He　comes　back　with　the　wagon；　then　he　follows　me。　　Poor　boy？　　God

knows。　　There　is　a　land　where　all　things　are　made　right；　but　that　land　is

not　here。



〃My　little　children；　serve　the　Saviour；　give　your　hearts　to　Him　while　you

are　yet　young。　　Life　is　short。



〃Nothing　is　mine；　otherwise　I　would　say；　Lyndall；　take　my　books；　Em　my

stones。　　Now　I　say　nothing。　　The　things　are　mine：　　it　is　not　righteous；　God

knows？　　But　I　am　silent。　　Let　it　be。　　But　I　feel　it；　I　must　say　I　feel　it。



〃Do　not　cry　too　much　for　the　old　man。　　He　goes　out　to　seek　his　fortune；　and

comes　back　with　it　in　a　bag；　it　may　be。



〃I　love　my　children。　　Do　they　think　of　me？　　I　am　Old　Otto；　who　goes　out　to

seek　his　fortune。



O。F。〃



Having　concluded　this　quaint　production；　he　put　it　where　the　children　would

find　it　the　next　morning；　and　proceeded　to　prepare　his　bundle。　　He　never

thought　of　entering　a　protest　against　the　loss　of　his　goods；　like　a　child；

he　submitted；　and　wept。　　He　had　been　there　eleven　years；　and　it　was　hard　to

go　away。　　He　spread　open　on　the　bed　a　blue　handkerchief；　and　on　it　put　one

by　one　the　things　he　thought　most　necessary　and　importanta　little　bag　of

curious　seeds；　which　he　meant　to　plant　some　day；　an　old　German　hymn…book；

three　misshapen　stones　that　he　greatly　valued；　a　Bible；　a　shirt　and　two

handkerchiefs；　then　there　was　room　for　nothing　more。　　He　tied　up　the　bundle

tightly　and　put　it　on　a　chair　by　his　bedside。



〃That　is　not　much；　they　cannot　say　I　take　much；〃　he　said；　looking　at　it。



He　put　his　knotted　stick　beside　it；　his　blue　tobacco　bag　and　his　short

pipe；　and　then　inspected　his　coats。　　He　had　two　lefta　moth…eaten　overcoat

and　a　black　alpaca；　out　at　the　elbows。　　He　decided　for　the　overcoat；　it　was

warm；　certainly；　but　then　he　could　carry　it　over　his　arm　and　only　put　it　on

when　he　met　some　one　along　the　road。　　It　was　more　respectable　than　the

black　alpaca。



He　hung　the　greatcoat　over　the　back　of　the　chair；　and　stuffed　a　hard　bit　of

roaster…cake　under　the　knot　of　the　bundle；　and　then　his　preparations　were

completed。　　The　German　stood　contemplating　them　with　much　satisfaction。　　He

had　almost　forgotten　his　sorrow　at　leaving　in　his　pleasure　at　preparing。　

Suddenly　he　started；　an　expression　of　intense　pain　passed　over　his　face。　

He　drew　back　his　left　arm　quickly；　and　then　pressed　his　right　hand　upon　his

breast。



〃Ah；　the　sudden　pang　again；〃　he　said。



His　face　was　white；　but　it　quickly　regained　its　colour。　　Then　the　old　man

busied　himself　in　putting　everything　right。



〃I　will　leave　it　neat。　　They　shall　not　say　I　did　not　leave　it　neat；〃　he

said。　　Even　the　little　bags　of　seeds　on　the　mantelpiece　he　put　in　rows　and

dusted。　　Then　he　undressed　and　got　into　bed。　　Under　his　pillow　was　a　little

storybook。　　He　drew　it　forth。　　To　the　old　German　a　story　was　no　story。　　Its

events　were　as　real　and　as　important　to　himself　as　the　matters　of　his　own

life。



He　could　not　go　away　without　knowing　whether　that　wicked　earl　relented　and

whether　the　baron　married　Emilina。　　So　he　adjusted　his　spectacles　and　began

to　read。　　Occasionally；　as　his　feelings　became　too　strongly　moved；　he

ejaculated：　　〃Ah；　I　thought　so！　　That　was　a　rogue！　　I　saw　it　before！　　I

knew　it　from　the　beginning！〃　　More　than　half　an　hour　had　passed　when　he

looked　up　to　the　silver　watch　at　the　top　of　his　bed。



〃The　march　is　long　tomorrow；　this　will　not　do；〃　he　said；　taking　off　his

spectacles　and　putting　them　carefully　into　the　book　to　mark　the　place。

〃This　will　be　good　reading　as　I　walk　along　tomorrow；〃　he　added；　as　he

stuffed　the　book　into　the　pocket　of　the　greatcoat；　〃very　good　reading。〃　　He

nodded　his　head　and　lay　down。　　He　thought　a　little　of　his　own　troubles；　a

good　deal　of　the　two　little　girls　he　was　leaving；　of　the　earl；　of　Emilina；

of　the　baron；　but　he　was　soon　asleepsleeping　as　peacefully　as　a　little

child；　upon　whose　innocent　soul　sorrow　and　care　cannot　rest。



It　was　very　quiet　in　the　room。　　The　coals　in　the　fireplace　threw　a　dull　red

light　across　the　floor　upon　the　red　lions　on　the　quilt。　　Eleven　o'clock

came；　and　the　room　was　very　still。



One　o'clock　came。　　The　glimmer　had　died　out；　though　the　ashes　were　still

warm；　and　the　room　was　very　dark。　　The　grey　mouse；　who　had　his　hole　under

the　toolbox；　came　out　and　sat　on　the　sacks　in　the　corner；　then；　growing

bolder；　the　room　was　so　dark；　it　climbed　the　chair　at　the　bedside；　nibbled

at　the　roaster…cake；　took　one　bite　quickly　at　the　candle；　and　then　sat　on

his　haunches　listening。　　It　heard　the　even　breathing　of　the　old　man；　and

the　steps　of　the　hungry　Kaffer　dog　going　his　last　round　in　search　of　a　bone

or　a　skin　that　had　been　forgotten；　and　it　heard　the　white　hen　call　out　as

the　wild　cat　ran　away　with　one　of　her　brood；　and　it　heard　the　chicken　cry。　

Then　the　grey　mouse　went　back　to　its　hole　under　the　toolbox；　and　the　room

was　quiet。　　And　two　o'clock　came。　　By　that　time　the　night　was　grown　dull

and　cloudy。　　The　wild　cat　had　gone　to　its　home　on　the　kopje；　the　Kaffer　dog

had　found　a　bone；　and　lay　gnawing　it。



An　intense　quiet　reigned　everywhere。　　Only　in　her　room　the　Boer…woman

tossed　her　great　arms　in　her　sleep；　for　she　dreamed　that　a　dark　shadow　with

outstretched　wings　fled　slowly　over　her　house；　and　she　moaned　and　shivered。　

And　the　night　was　very　still。



But；　quiet　as　all　places　were；　there　was　a　quite　peculiar　quiet　in　the

German's　room。　　Though　you　strained　your　ear　most　carefully　you　caught　no

sound　of　breathing。



He　was　not　gone；　for　the　old　coat　still　hung　on　the　chairthe　coat　that

was　to　be　put　on　when　he　met　any　one；　and　the　bundle　and　stick　were　ready

for　tomorrow's　long　march。　　The　old　German　himself　lay　there；　his　wavy

black　hair　just　touched　with　grey　thrown　back　upon　the　pillow。　　The　old

face　was　lying　there　alone　in　the　dark；　smiling　like　a　little　child'soh；

so　peacefully。　　There　is　a　stranger　whose　coming；　they　say；　is　worse　than

all　the　ills　of　life；　from　whose　presence　we　flee　away　trembling；　but　he

comes　very　tenderly　sometimes。　　And　it　seemed　almost　as　though　Death　had

known　and　loved　the　old　man；　so　gently　it　touched　him。　　And　how　could　it

deal　hardly　with　himthe　loving；　simple；　childlike　old　man？



So　it　smoothed　out　the　wrinkles　that　were　in　the　old　forehead；　and　fixed

the　passing　smile；　and　sealed　the　eyes　that　they　might　not　weep　again；　and

then　the　short　sleep　of　time　was　melted　into　the　long；　long　sleep　of

eternity。



〃How　has　he　grown　so　young　in　this　one　night？〃　they　said　when　they　found

him　in　the　morning。



Yes；　dear　old　man；　to　such　as　you　time　brings　no　age。　　You　die　with