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When the World Shook-Part6_H.Rider Haggard(1856-1925)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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cocker spaniel called Tommy which had been given to her as a

puppy, a highly intelligent and affectionate animal that we both



adored and that loved her as only a dog can love. Really, I knew,

it was to hide her tears, and fled from the room lest she should



see mine.

As I went I heard the dog whimpering in a peculiar way, as



though some sympathetic knowledge had been communicated to its

wonderful animal intelligence.



That night I spoke to Bickley about the matter, repeating

exactly what had passed. As I expected, he smiled in his grave,



rather sarcastic way, and made light of it.

"My dear Humphrey," he said, "don't torment yourself about such



fancies. They are of everydayoccurrence among women in your

wife's condition. Sometimes they take one form, sometimes



another. When she has got her baby you will hear no more of

them."



I tried to be comforted but in vain.

The days and weeks went by like a long nightmare and in due



course the event happened. Bickley was not attending the case; it

was not in his line, he said, and he preferred that where a



friend's wife was concerned, somebody else should be called in.

So it was put in charge of a very good local man with a large



experience in such domestic matters.

How am I to tell of it? Everything went wrong; as for the



details, let them be. Ultimately Bickley did operate, and if

surpassing skill could have saved her, it would have been done.



But the other man had misjudged the conditions; it was too late,

nothing could help either mother or child, a little girl who died



shortly after she was born but not before she had been

christened, also by the name of Natalie.



I was called in to say farewell to my wife and found her

radiant, triumphant even in her weakness.



"I know now," she whispered in a faint voice. "I understood as

the chloroform passed away, but I cannot tell you. Everything is



quite well, my darling. Go where you seem called to go, far away.

Oh! the wonderful place in which you will find me, not knowing



that you have found me. Good-bye for a little while; only for a

little while, my own, my own!"



Then she died. And for a time I too seemed to die, but could

not. I buried her and the child here at Fulcombe; or rather I



buried their ashes since I could not endure that her beloved body

should see corruption.



Afterwards, when all was over, I spoke of these last words of

Natalie's with both Bickley and Bastin, for somehow I seemed to



wish to learn their separate views.

The latter I may explain, had been present at the end in his



spiritual capacity, but I do not think that he in the least

understood the nature of the drama which was passing before his



eyes. His prayers and the christening absorbed all his attention,

and he never was a man who could think of more than one thing at



a time.

When I told him exactly what had happened and repeated the



words that Natalie spoke, he was much interested in his own

nebulous way, and said that it was delightful to meet with an



example of a good Christian, such as my wife had been, who

actually saw something of Heaven before she had gone there. His



own faith was, he thanked God, fairly robust, but still an

undoubted occurrence of the sort acted as a refreshment, "like



rain on a pasture when it is rather dry, you know," he added,

breaking into simile.



I remarked that she had not seemed to speak in the sense he

indicated, but appeared to allude to something quite near at hand



and more or less immediate.

"I don't know that there is anything nearer at hand than the



Hereafter," he answered. "I expect she meant that you will

probably soon die and join her in Paradise, if you are worthy to



do so. But of course it is not wise to put too much reliance upon

words spoken by people at the last, because often they don't



quite know what they are saying. Indeed sometimes I think this

was so in the case of my own wife, who really seemed to me to



talk a good deal of rubbish. Good-bye, I promised to see Widow

Jenkins this afternoon about having her varicose veins cut out,



and I mustn't stop here wasting time in pleasant conversation.




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