Chapter 5 Four

Four The next week Ashurst spent the next week exploring the easily accessible surrounding countryside to confirm the recovery of his leg.This spring has been a revelation for him.In a state of ecstasy he contemplates the pink buds of the late-blooming beech, which blooms in the sun against a deep blue sky; or the great trunk and branches of the few Scotch firs , tawny in the purple light; or look at the wind-bent larches on the heath, and when the wind blows through the verdant green above the black rust-colored branches below, the trees are full of life. .Or he would lie on the bank, watching the clumps of Arrowheads; or go up to the dead ferns, and touch the pink, transparent shoots of the Rubus; Or a lark sheds his beady song from a very high place.Of course, this spring is different from any spring he has experienced, because spring is in his heart, not outside him.It was rare for him to see the family during the day, and when Megan brought in the right meal, she always seemed to be too busy with the affairs of the house or the small things in the yard to stay and talk for a while.But in the evenings he sat under the kitchen window and smoked and chatted with Lame Jim or Mrs. Narracomb while the girl sewed or walked about the room clearing away the supper things.Sometimes, when he felt Megan's eyes—those pale eyes—gazing at him with a tenderness and lingering tenderness, he felt like a cat. It was the same as when he was cooing with joy.

Another Sunday evening, as he was lying in the orchard, listening to the thrushes and writing a love poem, he heard the door slam shut, and saw the girl come running through the bushes, That stupid red-cheeked Joe.About twenty yards away the chase ceased, and the two stood facing each other, oblivious to the stranger lying in the grass—the man pressing forward, the woman dodging. Ashurst saw her wrath and confusion; and the young man--who would have imagined that such a red-faced farmer could be so mad!He jumped up, and the sight hurt his heart.So they saw him.Megan dropped her hands and hid behind a tree trunk; the young man snorted angrily, ran to the bank, crawled over, and disappeared.Ashurst walked slowly towards her.She stood motionless, biting her lip—

Her black hair was blown across her face by the wind, her eyes were downcast, and she looked very pretty. "I beg your pardon," he said. She looked up at him, her eyes wide open; then, holding her breath, she turned and walked away.Ashurst followed. "Megan!" But she went on; he took her by the arm and turned her slightly toward him. "Stop and talk to me." "Why do you ask my pardon? You shouldn't have said that to me." "Okay, then tell Joe." "How dare he come after me?" "He loves you, I think." She stamped her foot.

Ashurst laughed. "You want me to smash his head off?" Suddenly she exclaimed impulsively: "You laugh at me— You laugh at us! " He took both of her hands, but she recoiled until her excited little face and loose black hair were entwined in the pink bulbs of the apple blossoms.Ashurst raised one of her held hands, and brought his lips to it.He felt so chivalrous, so superior to Country Joe— He just brushed that rough little hand with his mouth!Her flinching stopped abruptly; she seemed to move closer to him trembling.A sweet current of heat ran through Ashurst's whole body from head to toe.It turned out that this slender girl, so simple, beautiful and pretty, was happy to bear the touch of his lips!Giving in to the sudden urge, he wrapped his arms around her, leaned over, and kissed her forehead.Then he was frightened--she had grown so pale, her eyes were closed, and the long black lashes fell over her pale cheeks; her hands hung limply at her sides.The touch of her breasts against his made him shiver. "Meghan!" He sighed and let her go.In the eerie silence a thrush sang.Suddenly, the girl grabbed his hand, put it on her cheek, put it on her heart, put it on her lips, kissed it passionately, and then fled into the mossy apple tree trunks and disappeared. .

Ashurst sat down on an old tree that was almost lying on the ground, her heart was pounding, she was at a loss, and stared blankly at the flowers that had been lying on her hair-the pink flowers. There is a star-shaped white apple blossom that opens out among the green buds.What did you do?How could you allow yourself to be so beautiful—— Mercy—or maybe it’s just spring—shocks the hostage and loses its self-sufficiency!However, he still felt inexplicably happy; he was both happy and proud, his limbs trembled and there was a vague sense of panic.This is the beginning—the beginning of what?Bugs bit him, fluttering gnats flew into his mouth, and the surrounding spring seemed to become more lovely and more alive; the cuckoo and thrush's cries, the green woodpecker's laughter, the flat sunlight, just now The apple blossoms on her head—!He stood up from the old tree trunk and strode out of the orchard. Only the empty place and the open sky could match these new feelings.He walked towards the moor, and from a tree in the hedge, a magpie flew out, leading the way in front of him.

Who can say that a man has never been in love since he was five years old?Ashurst loved his dance partner, the nurse teacher, and the girls on school holidays; he was never out of love, perhaps, but always with some distant or near admire.But this time it was different, not far off.It was, so to speak, a new emotional excitement, a joyous one, a feeling of being fully grown-up.To hold such a wild flower between my fingers and to be able to put it to my lips and feel it quiver with delight!What an intoxication, and—what an embarrassment!How to deal with it - what to do next time you meet her?His first caress was calm and compassionate; but not the next time, because she kissed his hand passionately and pressed it to her own heart, and this let him know that she loved him. .Some are coarsened by the love bestowed on them; , and even noble.

Among the rocks on the high ground, he struggled painfully between a strong desire to take advantage of the new spring and a vague but real anxiety.For a moment, he wallowed in pride: he had captured this beautiful, trusting, watery-eyed little thing!After a while, he thought with pretentious seriousness: "Yes, my boy! But watch what you do!You know the consequences! " Before you know it, twilight has fallen, covering the huge pile of rocks that have been carved with Assyrian scenery.The voice of nature said to him: "Here is a new world opening before you!" It was like a man getting up at four o'clock and going out into a summer morning, where birds, beasts, plants and trees stared at him. He, as if everything was completely new.

He remained there for several hours, till he felt cold, and then he groped his way down between the rocks and the heather, to the road, back into the alley, and back across the moor meadows to the orchard.Here he strikes a match and looks at his watch.It's almost twelve o'clock!It is dark and peaceful here now, completely different from the bright spring that lingered with the singing of birds six hours ago.Then suddenly he saw this idyllic scene of himself with the eyes of the outer world--seeing in his imagination Mrs. Narracomb's serpentine neck turning, her piercing, sullen eyes seeing everything clearly. Clear, clever faces hardened; the gypsy-looking cousins, with coarse jesting, full of mistrust; and Jo, dull and angry; Passable.There is also a small hotel in the village! —the chattering ladies he had met in his walks; and his own friends—the smiles of Robert Garton's farewell smile on that morning ten days ago, so ironic and knowing!Annoying!For a moment, he really hated this vulgar and fault-finding world in which everyone had to belong.The gate he was leaning against turned gray, a kind of white. Red, almost round—

A strange moon!He turned and walked down the alley, smelling the night air, cow dung, and young leaves.In the straw field, he could see the black shadows of the cattle, with their white sickle-shaped horns looming like so many waning moons falling vertically.He secretly unlocked the farm gate.It was dark in the house.He walked lightly into the porch, hid behind a pine tree, and looked up at Megan's window.The window is open.Was she asleep, or perhaps lying awake in bed, upset--and unhappy--in his absence?As he stood looking up, an owl hooted, and its hooting seemed to fill the night sky, for there was such silence save for the never-ending murmur of the stream below the orchard.The cuckoo by day, the owl now--how wonderfully they spoke of the ecstasy that stirred within him!Suddenly he saw her leaning against the window, looking out.He moved a little away from the yew, and whispered, "Meghan!" She backed away, disappeared, reappeared, and leaned out of the window, very low.He walked forward quietly on the grass, when his shin bumped against the green-painted chair, and there was a slap, which made him hold his breath in fright.Her outstretched arm and her face looked white and motionless; he moved the chair and stood softly on it.He raised his arms, barely reaching height.She held the big key to the front door in her hand, and he took the fiery hand that held the cold key.He could just see her face, the teeth glistening in the middle of her lips, her tousled hair.She was still dressed--poor child, must be sitting awake waiting for him! "Beautiful Megan!" Her hot, rough fingers clung to his; there was a strange, bewildered look on her face.How nice it is to be able to touch this face - just touch it with your hands!The owl hooted, and a scent of roses entered his nostrils; then a farm dog barked; she let go and drew back.

"Good night, Megan!" "Good night, sir!" And she went!He sighed, slumped to the ground, sat down in the chair, and took off his boots.There was nothing to do but to sneak in to sleep; but he sat there for a long time, his feet freezing in the dew, thinking of her bewildered, half-smiling face, and her fiery How the fingers held his hand reluctantly, and stuffed the cold key into his hand.