But Though I
Watched Her Face Closely There Was No Change, No Faintest Trace Of Ill-
Feeling Or Feeling Of
Any kind; only that same shadow which had been
there was there still, and her fixed eyes were like those
Of a captive
bird or animal, that gaze at us, yet seem not to see us but to look
through and beyond us. And it was the same when they had all gone by
and we finished our talk and I put money in her hand; she thanked me
without a smile, in the same quiet even tone of voice in which she had
replied to my question about the samphire.
I went up once more to the top of the ridge, and looking down saw her
again as I had seen her at first, only dimmer, swiftly, lightly moving
or flitting moth-like or ghost-like over the low flat salting, still
gathering samphire in the cold wind, and the thought that came to me
was that I was looking at and had been interviewing a being that was
very like a ghost, or in any case a soul, a something which could not
be described, like certain atmospheric effects in earth and water and
sky which are ignored by the landscape painter. To protect himself he
cultivates what is called the "sloth of the eye": he thrusts his
fingers into his ears so to speak, not to hear that mocking voice that
follows and mocks him with his miserable limitations. He who seeks to
convey his impressions with a pen is almost as badly off: the most he
can do in such instances as the one related, is to endeavour to convey
the emotion evoked by what he has witnessed.
Let me then take the case of the man who has trained his eyes, or
rather whose vision has unconsciously trained itself, to look at every
face he meets, to find in most cases something, however little, of the
person's inner life. Such a man could hardly walk the length of the
Strand and Fleet-street or of Oxford-street without being startled at
the sight of a face which haunts him with its tragedy, its mystery, the
strange things it has half revealed. But it does not haunt him long;
another arresting face follows, and then another, and the impressions
all fade and vanish from the memory in a little while. But from time to
time, at long intervals, once perhaps in a lustrum, he will encounter a
face that will not cease to haunt him, whose vivid impression will not
fade for years. It was a face and eyes of that kind which I met in the
samphire gatherer on that cold evening; but the mystery of it is a
mystery still.
XI
A SURREY VILLAGE
Through the scattered village of Churt, in its deepest part, runs a
clear stream, broad in places, where it spreads over the road-way and
is so shallow that the big carthorses are scarce wetted above their
fetlocks in crossing; in other parts narrow enough for a man to jump
over, yet deep enough for the trout to hide in. And which is the
prettiest one finds it hard to say - the wide splashy places where the
cattle come to drink, and the real cow and the illusory inverted cow
beneath it are to be seen touching their lips; or where the oaks and
ashes and elms stretch and mingle their horizontal branches; - where
there is a green leafy canopy above and its green reflection below with
the glassy current midway between. On one side the stream is Surrey, on
the other Hampshire. Where the two counties meet there is a vast extent
of heath-land - brown desolate moors and hills so dark as to look almost
black.
It is wild, and its wildness is of that kind which comes of a barren
soil. It is a country best appreciated by those who, rich or poor, take
life easily, who love all aspects of nature, all weathers, and above
everything the liberty of wide horizons. To others the cry of "Back to
the land" would have a somewhat dreary and mocking sound in such a
place, like that curious cry, half laughter and half wail, which the
peewit utters as he anxiously winnows the air with creaking wings above
the pedestrian's head. But it is not all of this character. From some
black hill-top one looks upon a green expanse, fresh and lively by
contrast as the young leaves of deciduous trees in spring, with black
again or dark brown of pine and heath beyond. It is the oasis where
Churt is. The vivifying spirit of the wind at that height, and that
vision of verdure beneath, produce an exhilarating effect on the mind.
It is common knowledge that the devil once lived in or haunted these
parts: now my hill-top fancy tells me that once upon a time a better
being, a wandering angel, flew over the country, and looking down and
seeing it so dark-hued and desolate, a compassionate impulse took him,
and unclasping his light mantle he threw it down, so that the human
inhabitants should not be without that sacred green colour that
elsewhere beautifies the earth. There to this day it lies where it
fell - a mantle of moist vivid green, powdered with silver and gold,
embroidered with all floral hues; all reds from the faint blush on the
petals of the briar-rose to the deep crimson of the red trifolium; and
all yellows, and blues, and purples.
It was pleasant to return from a ramble over the rough heather to the
shade of the green village lanes, to stand aside in some deep narrow
road to make room for a farmer's waggon to pass, drawn by five or six
ponderous horses; to meet the cows too, smelling of milk and new-mown
hay, attended by the small cow-boy. One notices in most rural districts
how stunted in growth many of the boys of the labourers are; here I was
particularly struck by it on account of the fine physique of many of
the young men.
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