"I am afraid," he returned, "that the accident you met with in the
mountains must have caused some injury to your brain; for I cannot in
any other way account for these strange fantasies."
"Do you mean seriously to tell me, sir, that you have never even heard
of the existence of a city, where millions of human beings live crowded
together in a small space? Of course I mean a small space comparatively;
for in some cities you might walk all day without getting into the
fields; and a city like that might be compared to a beehive so large
that a bee might fly in a straight line all day without getting out of
it."
It struck me the moment I finished speaking that this comparison was not
quite right somehow; but he did not ask me to explain: he had evidently
ceased to pay any attention to what I said. The girl looked at me with
an expression of pity, not to say contempt, and I felt at the same time
ashamed and vexed. This served to rouse a kind of dogged spirit in me,
and I returned to the subject once more.
"Surely," I said, "you have heard of such cities as Paris, Vienna, Rome,
Athens, Babylon, Jerusalem?"
He only shook his head, and walked on in silence.
"And London! London is the capital of England. Why," I exclaimed,
beginning to see light, and wondering at myself for not having seen it
sooner, "you are at present talking to me in the English language."
"I fail to understand your meaning, and am even inclined to doubt that
you have any," said he, a little ruffled. "I am addressing you in the
language of human beings--that is all."
"Well, it seems awfully puzzling," said I; "but I hope you don't think I
have been indulging in--well, tarradiddles." Then, seeing that I was
making matters no clearer, I added: "I mean that I have not been telling
untruths."
"I could not think that," he answered sternly. "It would indeed be a
clouded mind which could mistake mere disordered fancies for willful
offenses against the truth. I have no doubt that when you have recovered
from the effects of your late accident these vain thoughts and
imaginations will cease to trouble you."
"And in the meantime, perhaps, I had better say as little as possible,"
said I, with considerable temper. "At present we do not seem able to
understand each other at all."
"You are right, we do not," he said; and then added with a grave smile,
"although I must allow that this last remark of yours is quite
intelligible."
"I'm glad of that," I returned. "It is distressing to talk and not to be
understood; it is like men calling to each other in a high wind, hearing
voices but not able to distinguish words."
"Again I understand you," said he approvingly; while the beautiful girl
bestowed on me the coveted reward of a smile, which had no pity or
contempt in it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account