Chapter 7 six

It was almost eleven o'clock that night when Ashurst put down the pocket book "Odyssey" which he had not read for half an hour, and went quietly across the yard to the orchard.The moon had just risen, all golden, and hung over the hill like a bright, powerful, watching spirit, peeping from behind a fence of half-naked branches of the q-tree.It was still dark among the apple trees.He stood and set his direction, exploring the messy grass on the ground with his feet.Immediately behind him was a dark mass wriggling and purring.It turned out to be three big pigs, and they lay down next to each other again at the foot of the wall.He listens.There was no wind, but the murmur of the bubbling water was twice as powerful as it was during the day.

There was a bird, he couldn't tell what it was called, "beep" and "beep", which was very monotonous; he heard a mosquito mother bird singing continuously with a long voice far away; There was an owl hooting.Ashurst moved a step or two, then stopped again, feeling a hazy, living whiteness around his head.The dim apple-tree was motionless, its myriad blossoms and buds so soft and blurred in outline, all alive under the spell of the wriggling moonlight.He had the strangest sense of being there, as if millions of white moths or spirits had floated in and settled between the dark sky and the still darker ground, at the level of his eyes. The space opens and closes with wings.The beauty of this moment was astonishing, silent, and fragrance-free, making him almost forget why he came to this orchard.After night fell, the airborne charm that had always enveloped the earth during the day did not disappear, but it was replaced by the present new form.He moved forward among the thick branches of the pink and jade, and came to the big apple tree.Make no mistake, even in the dark; it was nearly twice as tall as all the other trees, and sloped out to the open meadow and the creek.Under the thick branch, he stopped again and listened.All the same sounds, and the soft grunting of the sleepy pigs.He put his hands on the dry, almost warm tree trunk, and the rough, mossy surface gave off a peaty smell as he touched it.Will she come--

can you?In these quivering, haunted, moon-beguiled trees he wondered about everything!Everything was otherworldly here, not a place for earthly lovers; only for gods and goddesses, fauns and wood nymphs—not for him and this country girl.If she doesn't come, can't you breathe a sigh of relief?But he kept listening.Still the unknown bird chirped "beep-beep," "beep-beep," a busy murmur rose from the brook with the trout, and the moon rose from her tree-prison The back of the fence projects the line of sight on the river.The bush as high as his eyes seemed to grow more alive every moment, and its mysterious white beauty seemed to make it more and more a part of his suspenseful, suspenseful mood.He broke off a small flower branch and took a closer look——

There are three flowers.It is sacrilege to pick the flowers of the fruit trees—tender, holy, young flowers—and throw them away!At this moment, he suddenly heard the sound of the door closing, and the pigs started to move and grunt again. He leaned his back on the tree, clasped his hands behind his back and hugged the moss-covered trunk, and held his breath.She was like an elf walking through the woods, despite all the noise she made!Then he saw her very near--her dark body part of a young tree, her white face part of the flower on the tree; she was so silently peering at him. .He whispered:

"Megan!" Stretched out both hands.She ran forward and threw herself into his arms.Ashurst felt her heart beating against him, and then he tasted the full flavor of chivalry and passion.Because she does not belong to his world, because she is so simple, young and straightforward, only admiring, defenseless; how can he not consider himself her protector in this darkness!However, because her nature is so simple, she loves nature; loves beauty, like the living apple blossom is a part of this spring night, how can he not accept all the gifts she is willing to give him, and not satisfy her and him What is the request of spring in my heart!In the struggle of these two emotions, he took her in his arms and kissed her hair.He wondered how long they stood there in silence.The brook continued to murmur, the owl continued to hoot, the moon continued to creep up and grow whiter; and the apple blossoms around and above them brightened with the excitement of living beauty.Their lips searched for each other, and they did not speak.As soon as you talk, everything is unreal!There are no words in spring, only rustling and whispering.The spring flowers are in full bloom, the spring leaves are growing, the spring water is rushing, and the spring is chasing endlessly with joy, all of which are much richer than words!Sometimes the spring appears, and stands like a mysterious spirit, wraps its arms around lovers, touches them with magic fingers, and they stand there lip to lip, forgetting everything but kissing.Her heart was pounding against him, and her lips quivered on his, and Ashurst felt nothing but simple ecstasy—

The God of Destiny threw her into his arms intentionally, and the God of Eros should not be insulted!But as soon as their lips parted for breath, the divergence began again. Now, however, the enthusiasm was much stronger, and he said with a sigh: "Ah! Megan! Why did you come?" She looked up, surprised and hurt. "Sir, you called me." "Don't call me 'sir,' dear." "Then what shall I call you?" "Frank." "I can't. Oh, I can't!" "But you love me--don't you?" "I can't help loving you. I want to be with you—that's all."

"everything!" She spoke softly, so softly that he could hardly hear: "If I can't be with you, I'm going to die." Ashurst drew a sharp breath. " "Then come with me." "what!" Reveling in the awe and ecstasy of that "Ah!", he continued in a low voice: "Let's go to London. I'll let you see the world. I'll take care of you, I promise, Meghan. I'll never abuse you!" "Just to be with you—and nothing else." He stroked her hair and said in a low voice: "I'll go up to Torquay tomorrow to get some money and buy you some unnoticed clothes, and then we'll slip away. When we get to London, maybe soon, if you love me enough, we'll be married.

He felt the trembling of her hair when she shook her head. "Oh, no! I can't. I just want to be with you!" Intoxicated by his chivalry, Ashurst continued to mutter: "I'm not good enough for you. Ya! When did you start loving me, Megan?" "I saw you on the road, when you looked at me. I loved you the first night; but it never occurred to me that you wanted me." She suddenly slid down and knelt on the ground, wanting to kiss his feet. Ashurst shivered with terror; he picked her up and held her close--too disturbed to speak. She whispered, "Why don't you let me kiss?"

"It's me who wants to kiss your feet!" She smiled, bringing tears to his eyes.Her moonlit face was so white, so close to his face, and her parted lips were of a faint pink color, the color of her face and lips had that living and otherworldly quality of apple blossoms. beauty. Then, suddenly, her eyes widened, staring painfully at something beside him; she wrenched herself from his arms, and whispered, "Look!" Ashurst could see nothing but the illuminated water, smeared with pale orange gorse, and the gleaming beeches and the vast moonlit mountain shadows behind the trees.I could only hear her trembling behind her back as she whispered, "Gypsy ghost!"

"where?" "Where—by the stone—under the tree!" Filled with anger, he leaped across the stream and strode toward the beech woods.Moonlight is just kidding!nothing!He rushed in and out among boulders and hawthorn trees, stumbling, muttering and cursing, and yet he could not help being a little afraid.absurd!ridiculous!He went back to the apple tree, but she was gone; he heard a rustle, and the pigs squawked softly again, and the gate slammed shut.The garden is empty, only this old apple tree is left!He hugged the trunk of the tree.How different it was from her soft body; the rough moss on his face--how different it was from her soft cheeks; only the smell, like the smell of the woods, was a little Same!Overhead and all around, the apple blossoms grew more alive, brightened by the moonlight, as if they were glowing and breathing.