高山上的呼喊-go tell it on the mountain-第21部分

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。　It　was　old；　and　dirty；　and　brown；　and　torn；　he　recognized　Deborah’s　uncertain；　tremblinghand；　and　he　could　see　her　again　in　the　cabin；　bending　over　the　table；　laboriously　trusting　to　paperthe　bitterness　she　had　not　spoken。　It　had　lived　in　her　silence；　then；　all　those　years？　He　could　notbelieve　it。　She　had　been　praying　for　him　as　she　died—she　had　sworn　to　meet　him　in　glory。　Andyet；　this　letter；　her　witness；　spoke；　breaking　her　long　silence；　now　that　she　was　beyond　his　reach　forever。
　　‘Yes；’　said　Florence；　watching　his　face；　‘you　didn’t　give　her　no　bed　of　roses　to　sleep　on；　didyou？—poor；　simple；　ugly；　black　girl。　And　you　didn’t　treat　that　other　one　no　better。　Who　is　youmet；　Gabriel；　all　your　holy　life　long；　you　ain’t　made　to　drink　a　cup　of　sorrow？　And　you　doing　itstill—you　going　to　be　doing　it　till　the　Lord　puts　you　in　you　grave。’
　　‘God’s　way；’　he　said；　and　his　speech　was　thick；　his　face　was　slick　with　sweat；　‘ain’t　man’sway。　I　been　doing　the　will　of　the　Lord；　and　can’t　nobody　sit　in　judgment　on　me　but　the　Lord。　TheLord　called　me　out；　He　chose　me；　and　I　been　running　with　Him　ever　since　I　made　a　start。　You　can’tkeep　your　eyes　on　all　this　foolishness　here　below；　all　this　wickedness　here　below—you　got　to　liftup　your　eyes　to　the　hills　and　run　from　the　destruction　falling　on　the　earth；　you　got　to　put　your　handin　Jesus’　hand；　and　go　where　He　says　go。’
　　‘And　if　you　been　but　a　stumbling…stone　here　below？’　she　said。　‘If　you　done　caused　soulsright　and　left　to　stumble　and　fall；　and　lose　their　happiness；　and　lose　their　souls？　What　then；prophet？　What　then；　the　Lord’s　anointed？　Ain’t　no　reckoning　going　to　be　called　of　you？　What　yougoing　to　say　when　the　wagon　es？’
　　He　lifted　up　his　head；　and　she　saw　tears　mingled　with　his　sweat。　‘The　Lord；’　he　said；　‘Hesees　the　heart—He　sees　the　heart。’
　　‘Yes；’　she　said；　‘but　I　done　read　the　Bible；　too；　and　it　tells　me　you　going　to　know　the　treeby　its　fruit。　What　fruit　I　seen　from　you　if　it　ain’t　been　just　sin　and　sorrow　and　shame？’
　　　‘You　be　careful；’　he　said；　‘how　you　talk　to　the　Lord’s　anointed。　’Cause　my　life　ain’t　in　thatletter—you　don’t　know　my　life。’
　　‘Where　is　your　life；　Gabriel？’　she　asked；　after　a　despairing　pause。　‘Where　is　it？　Ain’t　it　alldone　gone　for　nothing？　Where’s　your　branches？　Where’s　your　fruit？’
　　He　said　nothing；　insistently；　she　tapped　the　letter　with　her　thumbnail。　They　wereapproaching　the　corner　where　she　must　leave　him；　turning　westward　to　take　her　undergroundhome。　In　the　light　that　filled　the　streets；　the　light　that　the　sun　was　now　beginning　to　corrupt　withfire；　she　watched　John　and　Elisha　just　before　them；　John’　listening　head　bent；　Elisha’s　arm　abouthis　shoulder。
　　‘I　got　a　son；’　he　said　at　last；　‘and　the　Lord’s　going　to　rise　him　up。　I　know—the　Lord　haspromised—His　word　is　true。’
　　And　then　she　laughed。　‘That　son；’　she　said；　‘that　Roy。　You　going　to　weep　for　many　aeternity　before　you　see　him　crying　in　front　of　the　altar　like　Johnny　was　crying　to…night。’
　　‘God　sees　the　heart；’　he　repeated；　‘He　sees　the　heart。’
　　‘Well；　He　ought　to　see　it；’　she　cried；　‘He　made　it！　But　don’t　nobody　else　se　it；　not　evenyour　own　self！　Let　God　see　it—He　sees　it　all　right；　and　He　don’t　say　nothing。’
　　‘He　speaks；’　he　said；　‘He　speaks。　All　you　got　to　do　is　listen。’
　　‘I　been　listening　many　a　night…time　long；’　said　Florence；　then；　‘and　He　ain’t　never　spoke　tome。’
　　‘He　ain’t　never　spoke；’　said　Gabriel；　‘because　you　ain’t　never　wanted　to　hear。　You　justwanted　Him　to　tell　you　your　way　was　right。　And　that　ain’t　no　way　to　wait　on　God。’
　　‘Then　tell　me；’　Said　Florence；　‘what　He　done　said　to　you—that　you　didn’t　want　to　hear？’
　　And　there　was　silence　again。　Now　they　both　watched　John　and　Elisha。
　　‘I　going　to　tell　you　something；　Gabriel；’　she　said。　‘I　know　you　thinking　at　the　bottom　ofyour　heart　that　if　you　make　her；　her　and　her　bastard　boy；　pay　enough　for　her　sin；　your　son　won’thave　to　pay　for　yours。　But　I　ain’t　going　to　let　you　do　that。　You　done　made　enough　folks　pay　for　sin；it’s　time　you　started　paying。’
　　‘What　you　think；’　he　asked；　‘you　going　to　be　able　to　do—against　me？’
　　‘Maybe；’　she　said；　‘I　ain’t　long　for　this　world；　but　I　got　this　letter；　and　I’m　sure　going　togive　it　to　Elizabeth　before　I　go；　and　if　she　don’t　want　it；　I’m　going　to　find　some　way—some　way；　Idon’t　know　how—to　rise　up　and　tell　it；　tell　everybody；　about　the　blood　the　Lord’s　anointed　id　goton　his　hands。’
　　‘I　done　told　you；’　he　said；　‘that’s　all　done　and　finished；　the　Lord　done　give　me　a　sign　tomake　me　know　I　been　forgiven。　What　good　you　think　it’s　going　to　do　to　start　talking　about　itnow？’
　　‘It’ll　make　Elizabeth　to　know；’　she　said；　‘that　she　ain’t　the　only　sinner　…　in　your　holyhouse。　And　little　Johnny；　there—he’ll　know　he　ain’t　the　only　bastard。’
　　　Then　he　turned　again；　and　looked　at　her　with　hatred　in　his　eyes。
　　‘You　ain’t　never　changed；’　he　said。　‘You　still　waiting　to　see　my　downfall。　You　just　aswicked　now　as　you　was　when　you　was　young。’
　　She　put　the　letter　in　her　bag　again。
　　‘No；’　she　said；　‘I　ain’t　changed。　You　ain’t　changed　neither。　You　still　promising　the　Lordyou　going　to　do　better—and　you　think　whatever　you　done　already；　whatever　you　doing　right　at　thatminute；　don’t　count。　Of　all　the　men　I　ever　knew；　you’s　the　man　who　ought　to　be　hoping　the　Bible’sall　a　lie—’cause　if　that　trumpet　ever　sounds；　you　going　to　spend　eternity　talking。’
　　They　had　reached　her　corner。　She　stopped；　and　he　stopped　with　her；　and　she　stared　into　hishaggard；　burning　face。
　　‘I　got　to　take　my　underground；’　she　said。　‘You　got　anything　you　want　to　say　to　me？’
　　‘I　been　living　a　long　time；’　he　said；　‘and　I　ain’t　never　seen　nothing　but　evil　overtake　theenemies　of　the　Lord。　You　think　you　going　to　use　that　letter　to　hurt　me—but　the　Lord　ain’t　going　tolet　it　e　to　pass。　You　going　to　be　cut　down。’
　　The　praying　women　approached　them；　Elizabeth　in　the　middle。
　　‘Deborah；’　Florence　said；　‘was　cut　down—but　she　left　word。　She　weren’t　no　enemy　ofnobody—and　she　didn’t　see　nothing　but　evil。　When　I　go；　brother；　you　better　tremble；　’cause　I　ain’tgoing　to　go　in　silence。’
　　And；　while　they　stared　at　each　other；　saying　nothing　more；　the　praying　women　were　uponthem。
　　Now　the　long；　the　silent　avenue　stretched　before　them　like　some　gray　country　of　the　dead。　Itscarcely　seemed　that　he　had　walked　this　avenue　only　（as　time　was　reckoned　up　by　men）　some　fewhours　ago；　that　he　had　known　this　avenue　since　his　eyes　had　opened　on　the　dangerous　world；　thathe　had　played　here；　wept　here；　fled；　fallen　down；　and　been　bruised　here—in　that　time；　so　farbehind　him；　of　his　innocence　and　anger。
　　Yes；　on　the　evening　of　the　seventh　day；　when；　raging；　he　had　walked　out　of　his　father’shouse；　this　avenue　had　been　filled　with　shouting　people。　The　light　of　the　day　had　begun　to　fail—the　wind　was　high；　and　the　tall　lights；　one　by　one；　and　then　all　together；　had　lifted　up　their　headsagainst　the　darkness—while　he　hurried　to　the　temple。　Had　he　been　mocked；　had　anyone　spoken；　orlaughed；　or　called？　He　could　not　remember。　He　had　been　walking　in　a　storm。
　　Now　the　storm　was　over。　And　the　avenue；　like　any　landscape　that　has　endured　a　storm；　laychanged　under　Heaven；　exhausted　and　clean；　and　new。　Not　again；　for　ever；　could　it　return　to　theavenue　it　once　had　been。　Fire；　or　lightening；　or　the　latter　rain；　ing　down　from　these　skies　whichmoved　with　such　pale　secrecy　above　him　now；　had　laid　yesterday’s　avenue　waste；　had　changed　itin　a　moment；　in　the　twinkling　of　an　eye；　as　all　would　be　changed　on　the　last　day；　when　the　skieswould　open　up　once　more　to　gather　up　the　saints。
　　　Yet　the　houses　were　there；　as　they　had　been；　the　windows；　like　a　thousand；　blinded　eyes；stared　outward　at　the　morning—at　the　morning　that　was　the　same　for　them　as　the　mornings　ofJohn’s　innocence；　and　the　mornings　before　his　birth。　The　water　run　in　the　gutters　with　a　small；discontented　sound；　on　the　water　traveled　paper；　burnt　matches；　sodden　cigarette…ends；　gobs　ofspittle；　green…yellow；　brown；　and　pearly；　the　leaving　of　a　dog；　the　vomit　of　a　drunken　man；　thedead　sperm；　trapped　in　rubber；　of　one　abandoned　to　his　lust。　All　moved　slowly　to　the　black　gratingwhere　down　it　rushed；　to　be　carried　to　the　river；　which　would　hurl　it　into　the　sea。
　　Where　houses　were；　where　windows　stared；　where　gutters　ran；　were　people—sleeping　now；invisible；　private；　in　the　heavy　darkness　of　these　houses；　while　the　Lord’s　day　broke　outside。　WhenJohn　should　walk　these　streets　again；　they　would　be　shouting　here　again；　the　roar　of　children’sroller　skates　would　bear　down　on　him　from　behind；　little　girls　in　pigtails；　skipping　rope；　wouldestablish　on　the　pavement　a　barricade　through　which　he　must　stumble　as　best　he　might。　Boyswould　be　throwing　ball　in　these　streets　again—they　would　look　at　him；　and　call：
　　‘Hey；　Frog…eyes！’
　　Men　would　be　standing　on　corners　again；　watching　him　pass；　girls　would　be　sitting　onstoops　again；　mocking　his　walk。　Grandmothers　would　stare　out　of　windows；　saying：
　　‘That　sure　is　a　sorry　little　boy。’
　　He　would　weep　again；　his　heart　insisted；　for　now　his　weep