Читать книгу The Pilgrim’s Regress - Клайв Льюис, Клайв Стейплз Льюис, C. S. Lewis - Страница 11
ОглавлениеHe hears of Death and what his elders pretend to believe about it – An uncomfortable funeral, lacking both Pagan fortitude and Christian hope – Everyone except John cheers up on the way home
John had a disreputable old uncle who was the tenant of a poor little farm beside his father’s. One day when John came in from the garden, he found a great hubbub in the house. His uncle was sitting there with his cheeks the colour of ashes. His mother was crying. His father was sitting very still with a solemn face. And there, in the midst of them, was the Steward with his mask on. John crept round to his mother and asked her what the matter was.
‘Poor Uncle George has had notice to quit,’ she said.
‘Why?’ said John.
‘His lease is up. The Landlord has sent him notice to quit.’
‘But didn’t you know how long the lease was for?’
‘Oh, no, indeed we did not. We thought it was for years and years more. I am sure the Landlord never gave us any idea he was going to turn him out at a moment’s notice like this.’
‘Ah, but it doesn’t need any notice,’ broke in the Steward. ‘You know he always retains the right to turn anyone out whenever he chooses. It is very good of him to let any of us stay here at all.’
‘To be sure, to be sure,’ said the mother.
‘That goes without saying,’ said the father.
‘I’m not complaining,’ said Uncle George. ‘But it seems cruelly hard.’
‘Not at all,’ said the Steward. ‘You’ve only got to go to the Castle and knock at the gate and see the Landlord himself. You know that he’s only turning you out of here to make you much more comfortable somewhere else. Don’t you?’
Uncle George nodded. He did not seem able to get his voice.
Suddenly the father looked at his watch. Then he looked up at the Steward and said:
‘Well?’
‘Yes,’ said the Steward.
Then John was sent up to his bedroom and told to put on the ugly and uncomfortable clothes; and when he came downstairs, itching all over, and tight under the arms, he was given a little mask to put on, and his parents put masks on too. Then I thought in my dream that they wanted to put a mask on Uncle George, but he was trembling so that it would not stay on. So they had to see his face as it was; and his face became so dreadful that everyone looked in a different direction and pretended not to see it. They got Uncle George to his feet with much difficulty, and then they all came out on to the road. The sun was just setting at one end of the road, for the road ran east and west. They turned their backs on the dazzling western sky and there John saw ahead of them the night coming down over the eastern mountains. The country sloped down and eastward to a brook, and all this side of the brook was green and cultivated: on the other side of the brook a great black moor sloped upward, and beyond that were the crags and chasms of the lower mountains, and high above them again the bigger mountains: and on top of the whole waste was one mountain so big and black that John was afraid of it. He was told that the Landlord had his castle up there.
He trudged on eastward, a long time, always descending, till they came to the brook. They were so slow now that the sunset behind them was out of sight. Before them, all was growing darker every minute, and the cold east wind was blowing out of the darkness, right from the mountain tops. When they had stood for a little, Uncle George looked round on them all once or twice, and said, ‘Oh, dear! Oh, dear!’ in a funny small voice like a child’s. Then he stepped over the brook and began to walk away up the moor. It was now so dark and there were so many ups and downs in the moorland that they lost sight of him almost at once. Nobody ever saw him again.
‘Well,’ said the Steward, untying his mask as they turned homeward. ‘We’ve all got to go when our time comes.’
‘That’s true,’ said the father, who was lighting his pipe. When it was lit he turned to the Steward and said: ‘Some of those pigs of George’s have won prizes.’
‘I’d keep ’em if I were you,’ said the Steward. ‘It’s no time for selling now.’
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ said the father.
John walked behind with his mother.
‘Mother.’
‘Well, dear?’
‘Could any of us be turned out without notice like that any day?’
‘Well, yes. But it is very unlikely.’
‘But we might be?’
‘You oughtn’t to be thinking of that sort of thing at your age.’
‘Why oughtn’t I?’
‘It’s not healthy. A boy like you.’
‘Mother.’
‘Yes?’
‘Can we break off the lease without notice too?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, the Landlord can turn us out of the farm whenever he likes. Can we leave the farm whenever we like?’
‘No, certainly not.’
‘Why not?’
‘That’s in the lease. We must go when he likes, and stay as long as he likes.’
‘Why?’
‘I suppose because he makes the leases.’
‘What would happen if we did leave?’
‘He would be very angry.’
‘Would he put us in the black hole?’
‘Perhaps.’
‘Mother.’
‘Well, dear?’
‘Will the Landlord put Uncle George in the black hole?’
‘How dare you say such a thing about your poor uncle? Of course he won’t.’
‘But hasn’t Uncle George broken all the rules?’
‘Broken all the rules? Your Uncle George was a very good man.’
‘You never told me that before,’ said John.
