the wheels of chance-第8部分

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　at　the　foot　of　the　Keep。　Apparently　they　aimed　at　the　South　Coast　just　as　he　did；　He'd　get　up　betimes　the　next　day　and　hurry　off　to　avoid　herthem；　that　is。　It　never　occurred　to　Mr。　Hoopdriver　that　Miss　Beaumont　and　her　brother　might　do　exactly　the　same　thing；　and　that　evening；　at　least；　the　peculiarity　of　a　brother　calling　his　sister　〃Miss　Beaumont〃　did　not　recur　to　him。　He　was　much　too　preoccupied　with　an　analysis　of　his　own　share　of　these　encounters。　He　found　it　hard　to　be　altogether　satisfied　about　the　figure　he　had　cut；　revise　his　memories　as　he　would。　

Once　more　quite　unintentionally　he　stumbled　upon　these　two　people。　It　was　about　seven　o'clock。　He　stopped　outside　a　linen　draper's　and　peered　over　the　goods　in　the　window　at　the　assistants　in　torment。　He　could　have　spent　a　whole　day　happily　at　that。　He　told　himself　that　he　was　trying　to　see　how　they　dressed　out　the　brass　lines　over　their　counters；　in　a　purely　professional　spirit；　but　down　at　the　very　bottom　of　his　heart　he　knew　better。　The　customers　were　a　secondary　consideration；　and　it　was　only　after　the　lapse　of　perhaps　a　minute　that　he　perceived　that　among　them　wasthe　Young　Lady　in　Grey！　He　turned　away　from　the　window　at　once；　and　saw　the　other　man　in　brown　standing　at　the　edge　of　the　pavement　and　regarding　him　with　a　very　curious　expression　of　face。　

There　came　into　Mr。　Hoopdriver's　head　the　curious　problem　whether　he　was　to　be　regarded　as　a　nuisance　haunting　these　people；　or　whether　they　were　to　be　regarded　as　a　nuisance　haunting　him。　He　abandoned　the　solution　at　last　in　despair；　quite　unable　to　decide　upon　the　course　he　should　take　at　the　next　encounter；　whether　he　should　scowl　savagely　at　the　couple　or　assume　an　attitude　eloquent　of　apology　and　propitiation。　



THE　IMAGININGS　OF　MR。　HOOPDRIVER'S　HEART　

X　

Mr。　Hoopdriver　was　（in　the　days　of　this　story）　a　poet；　though　he　had　never　written　a　line　of　verse。　Or　perhaps　romancer　will　describe　him　better。　Like　I　know　not　how　many　of　those　who　do　the　fetching　and　carrying　of　life；a　great　number　of　them　certainly；his　real　life　was　absolutely　uninteresting；　and　if　he　had　faced　it　as　realistically　as　such　people　do　in　Mr。　Gissing's　novels；　he　would　probably　have　come　by　way　of　drink　to　suicide　in　the　course　of　a　year。　But　that　was　just　what　he　had　the　natural　wisdom　not　to　do。　On　the　contrary；　he　was　always　decorating　his　existence　with　imaginative　tags；　hopes；　and　poses；　deliberate　and　yet　quite　effectual　self…deceptions；　his　experiences　were　mere　material　for　a　romantic　superstructure。　If　some　power　had　given　Hoopdriver　the　'giftie'　Burns　invoked；　'to　see　oursels　as　ithers　see　us；'　he　would　probably　have　given　it　away　to　some　one　else　at　the　very　earliest　opportunity。　His　entire　life；　you　must　understand；　was　not　a　continuous　romance；　but　a　series　of　short　stories　linked　only　by　the　general　resemblance　of　their　hero；　a　brown…haired　young　fellow　commonly；　with　blue　eyes　and　a　fair　moustache；　graceful　rather　than　strong；　sharp　and　resolute　rather　than　clever　（cp。；　as　the　scientific　books　say；　p。　2）。　Invariably　this　person　possessed　an　iron　will。　The　stories　fluctuated　indefinitely。　The　smoking　of　a　cigarette　converted　Hoopdriver's　hero　into　something　entirely　worldly；　subtly　rakish；　with　a　humorous　twinkle　in　the　eye　and　some　gallant　sinning　in　the　background。　You　should　have　seen　Mr。　Hoopdriver　promenading　the　brilliant　gardens　at　Earl's　Court　on　an　early…closing　night。　His　meaning　glances！　（I　dare　not　give　the　meaning。）　Such　an　influence　as　the　eloquence　of　a　revivalist　preacher　would　suffice　to　divert　the　story　into　absolutely　different　channels；　make　him　a　white…soured　hero；　a　man　still　pure；　walking　untainted　and　brave　and　helpful　through　miry　ways。　The　appearance　of　some　daintily　gloved　frockcoated　gentleman　with　buttonhole　and　eyeglass　complete；　gallantly　attendant　in　the　rear　of　customers；　served　again　to　start　visions　of　a　simplicity　essentially　Cromwell…like；　of　sturdy　plainness；　of　a　strong；　silent　man　going　righteously　through　the　world。　This　day　there　had　predominated　a　fine　leisurely　person　immaculately　clothed；　and　riding　on　an　unexceptional　machine；　a　mysterious　personquite　unostentatious；　but　with　accidental　self…revelation　of　something　over　the　common；　even　a　〃bloomin'　Dook；〃　it　might　be　incognito；　on　the　tour　of　the　South　Coast。　

You　must　not　think　that　there　was　any　TELLING　of　these　stories　of　this　life…long　series　by　Mr。　Hoopdriver。　He　never　dreamt　that　they　were　known　to　a　soul。　If　it　were　not　for　the　trouble；　I　would；　I　think；　go　back　and　rewrite　this　section　from　the　beginning；　expunging　the　statements　that　Hoopdriver　was　a　poet　and　a　romancer；　and　saying　instead　that　he　was　a　playwright　and　acted　his　own　plays。　He　was　not　only　the　sole　performer；　but　the　entire　audience；　and　the　entertainment　kept　him　almost　continuously　happy。　Yet　even　that　playwright　comparison　scarcely　expresses　all　the　facts　of　the　case。　After　all；　very　many　of　his　dreams　never　got　acted　at　all；　possibly　indeed；　most　of　them；　the　dreams　of　a　solitary　walk　for　instance；　or　of　a　tramcar　ride；　the　dreams　dreamt　behind　the　counter　while　trade　was　slack　and　mechanical　foldings　and　rollings　occupied　his　muscles。　Most　of　them　were　little　dramatic　situations；　crucial　dialogues；　the　return　of　Mr。　Hoopdriver　to　his　native　village；　for　instance；　in　a　well…cut　holiday　suit　and　natty　gloves；　the　unheard　asides　of　the　rival　neighbours；　the　delight　of　the　old　'mater；'　the　intelligence〃A　ten…pound　rise　all　at　once　from　Antrobus；　mater。　Whad　d'yer　think　of　that？〃　or　again；　the　first　whispering　of　love；　dainty　and　witty　and　tender；　to　the　girl　he　served　a　few　days　ago　with　sateen；　or　a　gallant　rescue　of　generalised　beauty　in　distress　from　truculent　insult　or　ravening　dog。　

So　many　people　do　thisand　you　never　suspect　it。　You　see　a　tattered　lad　selling　matches　in　the　street；　and　you　think　there　is　nothing　between　him　and　the　bleakness　of　immensity；　between　him　and　utter　abasement；　but　a　few　tattered　rags　and　a　feeble　musculature。　And　all　unseen　by　you　a　host　of　heaven…　sent　fatuities　swathes　him　about；　even；　maybe；　as　they　swathe　you　about。　Many　men　have　never　seen　their　own　profiles　or　the　backs　of　their　heads；　and　for　the　back　of　your　own　mind　no　mirror　has　been　invented。　They　swathe　him　about　so　thickly　that　the　pricks　of　fate　scarce　penetrate　to　him；　or　become　but　a　pleasant　titillation。　And　so；　indeed；　it　is　with　all　of　us　who　go　on　living。　Self…deception　is　the　anaesthetic　of　life；　while　God　is　carving　out　our　beings。　

But　to　return　from　this　general　vivisection　to　Mr。　Hoopdriver's　imaginings。　You　see　now　how　external　our　view　has　been；　we　have　had　but　the　slightest　transitory　glimpses　of　the　drama　within；　of　how　the　things　looked　in　the　magic　mirror　of　Mr。　Hoopdriver's　mind。　On　the　road　to　Guildford　and　during　his　encounters　with　his　haunting　fellow…cyclists　the　drama　had　presented　chiefly　the　quiet　gentleman　to　whom　we　have　alluded；　but　at　Guildford；　under　more　varied　stimuli；　he　burgeoned　out　more　variously。　There　was　the　house　agent's　window；　for　instance；　set　him　upon　a　charming　little　comedy。　He　would　go　in；　make　inquires　about　that　thirty…pound　house；　get　the　key　possibly　and　go　over　itthe　thing　would　stimulate　the　clerk's　curiosity　immensely。　He　searched　his　mind　for　a　reason　for　this　proceeding　and　discovered　that　he　was　a　dynamiter　needing　privacy。　Upon　that　theory　he　procured　the　key；　explored　the　house　carefully；　said　darkly　that　it　might　suit　his　special　needs；　but　that　there　were　OTHERS　to　consult。　The　clerk；　however；　did　not　understand　the　allusion；　and　merely　pitied　him　as　one　who　had　married　young　and　paired　himself　to　a　stronger　mind　than　his　own。　

This　proceeding　in　some　occult　way　led　to　the　purchase　of　a　note…book　and　pencil；　and　that　started　the　conception　of　an　artist　taking　notes。　That　was　a　little　game　Mr。　Hoopdriver　had；　in　congenial　company；　played　in　his　still　younger　daysto　the　infinite　annoyance　of　quite　a　number　of　respectable　excursionists　at　Hastings。　In　early　days　Mr。　Hoopdriver　had　been；　as　his　mother　proudly　boasted；　a　'bit　of　a　drawer；'　but　a　conscientious　and　normally　stupid　schoolmaster　perceived　the　incipient　talent　and　had　nipped　it　in　the　bud　by　a　series　of　lessons　in　art。　However；　our　principal　character　figured　about　quite　happily　in　old　corners　of　Guildford；　and　once　the　other　man　in　brown；　looking　out　of　the　bay　window　of　the　Earl　of　Kent；　saw　him　standing　in　a　corner　by　a　gateway；　note…book　in　hand；　busily　sketching　the　Earl's　imposing　features。　At　which　sight　the　other　man　in　brown　started　back　from　the　centre　of　the　window；　so　as　to　be　hidden　from　him；　and　crouching　slightly；　watched　him　intently　through　the　interstices　of　the　lace　curtains。　



OMISSIONS

XI

Now　the　rest　of　the　acts　of　Mr。　Hoopdriver　in　Guildford；　on　the　great　opening　day　of　his　holidays；　are　not　to　be　detailed　here。　How　he　wandered　about　the　old　town　in　the　dusk；　and　up　to　the　Hogsback　to　see　the　little　lamps　below　and　the　little　stars　above　come　out　one　after　another；　how　he　returned　through　the　yellow…lit　streets　to　the　Yellow　Hammer　Coffee　Tavern　and　supped　bravely　in　the　commercial　rooma　Man　among　Men；　how　he　joined　in　the　talk　about　flying…machines　and　the　possibilities　of　electricity；　witnessing