Fitzgerald, F Scott Diamond As Big As The Ritz, The, And Other Stories
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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
the uncut seeding grass of the farther bank. And so he came glad and
breathless into the highroad. "I am glad," he said, "beyond measure, that I
had clothes that fitted this occasion."
The highroad ran straight as an arrow flies, straight into the deep blue pit
of sky beneath the moon, a white and shining road between the singing
nightingales, and along it he went, running now and leaping, and now walking
and rejoicing, in the clothes his mother had made for him with tireless,
loving hands. The road was deep in dust, but that for him was only soft
whiteness, and as he went a great dim moth came fluttering round his wet and
shimmering and hastening figure. At first he did not heed the moth, and then
he waved his hands at it and made a sort of dance with it as it circled round
his head. "Soft moth!" he cried, "dear moth! And wonderful night, wonderful
night of the world! Do you think my clothes are beautiful, dear moth? As
beautiful as your scales and all this silver vesture of the earth and sky?"
And the moth circled closer and closer until at last its velvet wings just
brushed his lips . . . . .
And next morning they found him dead with his neck broken in the bottom of
the stone pit, with his beautiful clothes a little bloody and foul and stained
with the duckweed from the pond. But his face was a face of such happiness
that, had you seen it, you would have understood indeed how that he had died
happy, never knowing the cool and streaming silver for the duckweed in the
pond.
THE DIAMOND MAKER
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Some business had detained me in Chancery Lane nine in the evening, and
thereafter, having some inkling of a headache, I was disinclined either for
entertainment or further work. So much of the sky as the high cliffs of that
narrow canon of traffic left visible spoke of a serene night, and I determined
to make my way down to the Embankment, and rest my eyes and cool my head by
watching the variegated lights upon the river. Beyond comparison the night is
the best time for this place; a merciful darkness hides the dirt of the
waters, and the lights of this transitional age, red glaring orange,
gas-yellow, and electric white, are set in shadowy outlines of every possible
shade between grey and deep purple. Through the arches of Waterloo Bridge a
hundred points of light mark the sweep of the Embankment, and above its
parapet rise the towers of Westminster,warm grey against the starlight. The
black river goes by with only a rare ripple breaking its silence, and
disturbing the reflections of the lights that swim upon its surface.
"A warm night," said a voice at my side.
I turned my head, and saw the profile of a man who was leaning over the
parapet beside me. It was a refined face, not unhandsome, though pinched and
pale enough, and the coat collar turned up and pinned round the throat marked
his status in life as sharply as a uniform. I felt I was committed to the
price of a bed and breakfast if I answered him.
I looked at him curiously. Would he have anything to tell me worth the money,
or was he the common incapable--incapable even of telling his own story? There
was a quality of intelligence in his forehead and eyes, and a certain
tremulousness in his nether lip that decided me.
"Very warm," said I; "but not too warm for us here."
"No," he said, still looking across the water, "it is pleasant enough here .
. . . just now."
"It is good," he continued after a pause, "to find anything so restful as
this in London. After one has been fretting about business all day, about
getting on, meeting obligations, and parrying dangers, I do not know what one
would do if it were not for such pacific corners." He spoke with long pauses
between the sentences. "You must know a little of the irksome labour of the
world, or you would not be here. But I doubt if you can be so brain-weary and
footsore as I am . . . . Bah! Sometimes I doubt if the game is worth the
candle. I feel inclined to throw the whole thing over--name, wealth and
position--and take to some modest trade. But I know if I abandoned my
ambition--hardly as she uses me--I should have nothing but remorse left for
the rest of my days."
He became silent. I looked at him in astonishment. If ever I saw a man
hopelessly hard-up it was the man in front of me. He was ragged and he was
dirty, unshaven and unkempt; he looked as though he had been left in a
dust-bin for a week. And he was talking tome of the irksome worries of a large
business. I almost laughed outright. Either he was mad or playing a sorry jest
on his own poverty.
"If high aims and high positions," said I, "have their drawbacks of hard work
and anxiety, they have their compensations. Influence, the power of doing
good, of assisting those weaker and poorer than ourselves; and there is even a
certain gratification in display . . . . . "
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My banter under the circumstances was in very vile taste. I spoke on the spur
of the contrast of his appearance and speech. I was sorry even while I was
speaking.
He turned a haggard but very composed face upon me. Said he: "I for got
myself. Of course you would not understand."
He measured me for a moment. "No doubt it is very absurd. You will not
believe me even when I tell you, so that it is fairly safe to tell you. And it
will be a comfort to tell someone. I really have a big business in hand, a
very big business. But there are troubles just now. The fact is . . . . I make
diamonds." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
