Merry Go Round by W Somerset Maugham

Author:W Somerset Maugham [W Somerset Maugham]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781409079415
Publisher: Random House

Next morning he was feverish and ill, and on the day after, notwithstanding his entreaties, Bella absolutely refused to start. He stared at her sullenly, with bitter disappointment.

'Very well,' he said at length. 'But next time you must promise to go whatever happens, even if I'm dying: you must have me carried on the boat.'

'I promise faithfully,' answered Bella.

A certain force of will gave him an imaginary strength, so that in a couple of days he was on his feet again; but the elation, which during a fortnight had upborne him, now was quite gone, and he was so silent that Bella feared he had not forgiven the delay on which she insisted. They were obliged to spend a week in Brindisi, that dull, sordid, populous town, and together wandered much about its tortuous and narrow streets. It pleased Herbert chiefly to go down to the port, for he loved the crowded ships, loading and unloading, and dreamt of their long voyages over the wild waste of the sea; and he loved the lounging sailormen, the red-sashed, swarthy porters, the urchins who played merrily on the quay. But the life which thrilled through them, one and all, caused him sometimes an angry despair; they seemed to possess such infinite power to enjoy things, and with all his heart he envied the poorest stoker because his muscles were like iron and his breathing free. The week passed, and on the afternoon before their boat sailed Herbert went out alone; but Bella, knowing his habits, was presently able to find him: he sat on a little hill, olive-clad, and overlooked the sea. He did not notice her approach, for his gaze, intent as though he sought to see the longed-for shores of Greece, was fixed upon the blue Ægean distance, and on his wan and wasted face was a pain indescribable.

'I'm glad you've come, Bella: I wanted you.'

She sat beside him, and taking her hand, his eyes wandered again to the far horizon. A fishing-boat, with a white, strange-shaped sail, sped like a fair sea-bird over the water's shining floor. The sky was a hard, hot blue like the lapis-lazuli, and not a cloud broke its serene monotony.

'Bella,' he said at last, 'I don't want to go to Greece. I haven't the courage.'

'What do you mean?' she asked, enormously surprised. All his thoughts had tended to this one object, and it seemed a sign of ill omen that when at length it lay within reach he should draw back.

'You thought I was angry because we didn't start last week. I tried to be, but in my heart I was glad of the respite. I was afraid. I've been trying to screw up my courage, but I can't.'

He did not look at her, but gazed straight out to sea.

'I daren't run the risk, Bella. I'm afraid to put my fancies to the test of reality. I want to keep my illusions. Italy has shown me that nothing is so lovely and enchanting as the image of it in my mind.

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