Читать книгу The Holy Terror - H.G. Wells - Страница 15

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That was the only approach made by any sort of religious organisation to our emergent young man. Whatever other forms of faith flourished at Camford were apparently under the impression that Rudie might just as well be damned. But various politicians of a markedly "junior" character enquired about him. They waylaid him in stony corridors; they accosted him in the reading-room; they came to his room. There were Liberals who just talked party politics of the most arithmetical sort and failed to pass quite elementary examinations on what they meant by Liberal principles; there were rather beefy Conservatives, one of them titled, with an ill-concealed quality of condescension, who seemed to regard the Empire as a sort of alluring Juggernaut to whom one would naturally and gladly prostrate oneself; there were shrill Indians who tried to win his respectful adhesion to their dusky cause, by proving with chapter and verse that the English were cheats, liars, oppressors and only temporarily necessary to India; there were Pacifists, some of whom were total abstainers from life, neo-gnostics in fact, while others seemed to make an exception in favour of serious eroticism. And there were middle-class Fabians, those painless permeators, with schemes for expropriating the rich and powerful so subtly that they would never know it had happened to them, and various leftists, Stalinists, Trotskyites and so forth, including several earnest young peers, who agreed that what was needed was a vehement class war and a proletarian revolution. And also he had a call from two oafish, unprepossessing, young men in purple vests who talked against the Jews. Their indictment of the Jews was a little flimsy, but there could be no question of the earnest gusto with which they advocated the ancient sport of Jew-baiting. They wore broad leather belts and their jersey sleeves were rolled up as if on the off-chance of finding a pogrom round the corner. They told him Judaism was a wicked conspiracy to rob, corrupt and enslave Gentile mankind. He did not believe them for a moment. But he was quite polite to them because they were so very hefty. He did not argue with them, but he paid visible attention.

"You aren't called upon for any action," said the largest of them. "Just speak. We want speakers with ginger."

"I couldn't make a speech on the Jewish question to save my life. I haven't got it up."

"We could give you material."

"No," said Rudie, shaking a smiling face with modestly resolute conviction.

"You aren't by any chance a Jew yourself?" said the smaller (but still considerable) purple-shirt, and his eye roved about the room as if in search for convenient breakables.

Rudie had a nasty moment and then decided upon a virile line. "If I was about four stone heavier," he said, "I'd smash your blasted jaw for that."

It got a laugh, and the situation eased.

"Come along, Colin," said the big one. "He's not even a Pacifist. But you ought to read the Protocols of Zion, you really ought, Mister—? I didn't get your name?"

Rudie felt now that he was safe on the bantam tack. "I haven't got yours," he said.

They pulled up their jerseys in search of pockets and produced cards. They handed them to Rudie with a friendly solemnity, bowed genteely and, forgetting all about a return card, louted off down the staircase with an air of something accomplished, something done.

"Blaggards," said Rudie when their footsteps had died away and the door was safely shut. "If I was a Jew I'd get a revolver. I'd get a razor like niggers do."

And his mind went back to his shin-kicking days, when he had thrown knives and jabbed with scissors and pens...

But it did not go forward to the time when myriads of such "blaggards" would march at his bidding.