第50部分(第4/7 頁)

It's　locked……it's　locked。〃

Then　the　knocking；　kicking　at　the　door　with　childish　knees；

and　the　urgent；　childish：

〃Ursula……our　Ursula？　Ursula？　Eh；　our　Ursula？〃

No　reply。

〃Ursula！　Eh……our　Ursula？〃　the　name　was　shouted　now　Still

no　answer。

〃Mother；　she　won't　answer；〃　came　the　yell。　〃She's　dead。〃

〃Go　away……I'm　not　dead。　What　do　you　want？〃　came　the

angry　voice　of　the　girl。

〃Open　the　door；　our　Ursula；〃　came　the　plaining　cry。　It　was

all　over。　She　must　open　the　door。　She　heard　the　screech　of　the

bucket　downstairs　dragged　across　the　flagstones　as　the　woman

washed　the　kitchen　floor。　And　the　children　were　prowling　in　the

bedroom；　asking：

〃What　were　you　doing？　What　had　you　locked　the　door　for？〃　Then

she　discovered　the　key　of　the　parish　room；　and　betook　herself

there；　and　sat　on　some　sacks　with　her　books。　There　began　another

dream。

She　was　the　only　daughter　of　the　old　lord；　she　was　gifted

with　magic。　Day　followed　day　of　rapt　silence；　whilst　she

wandered　ghost…like　in　the　hushed；　ancient　mansion；　or　flitted

along　the　sleeping　terraces。

Here　a　grave　grief　attacked　her：　that　her　hair　was　dark。　She

must　have　fair　hair　and　a　white　skin。　She　was　rather

bitter　about　her　black　mane。

Never　mind；　she　would　dye　it　when　she　grew　up；　or　bleach　it

in　the　sun；　till　it　was　bleached　fair。　Meanwhile　she　wore　a　fair

white　coif　of　pure　Venetian　lace。

She　flitted　silently　along　the　terraces；　where　jewelled

lizards　basked　upon　the　stone；　and　did　not　move　when　her　shadow

fell　upon　them。　In　the　utter　stillness　she　heard　the　tinkle　of

the　fountain；　and　smelled　the　roses　whose　blossoms　hu