按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
help pay the rent of the rat…holes where you live。〃 Once more he was
interrupted by angry shouts of approval。 〃And the labour unions； have
they aided you？ Why not？ I will tell you whybecause they are the
servile instruments of the masters。 The unions say that capital has
rights； bargain with it； but for us there can be only one bargain；
complete surrender of the tools to the workers。 For the capitalists are
parasites who suck your blood and your children's blood。 From now on
there can be no compromise； no truce； no peace until they are
exterminated。 It is war。〃 War！ In Janet's soul the word resounded like
a tocsin。 And again； as when swept along East Street with the mob； that
sense of identity with these people and their wrongs； of submergence with
them in their cause possessed her。 Despite her ancestry； her lot was
cast with them。 She； too； had been precariously close to poverty； had
known the sordidness of life； she； too； and Lise and Hannah had been
duped and cheated of the fairer things。 Eagerly she had drunk in the
vocabulary of that new and terrible philosophy。 The master class must be
exterminated！ Was it not true； if she had been of that class； that
Ditmar would not have dared to use and deceive her？ Why had she never
thought of these things before？。。。 The light was beginning to fade； the
great meeting was breaking up； and yet she lingered。 At the foot of the
bandstand steps； conversing with a small group of operatives that
surrounded him； she perceived the man who had just spoken。 And as she
stood hesitating； gazing at him； a desire to hear more； to hear all of
this creed he preached； that fed the fires in her soul； urged her
forward。 Her need； had she known it； was even greater than that of these
toilers whom she now called comrades。 Despite some qualifying reserve
she felt； and which had had to do with the redness of his lips； he
attracted her。 He had a mind； an intellect； he must possess stores of
the knowledge for which she thirsted； he appeared to her as one who had
studied and travelled； who had ascended heights and gained the wider view
denied her。 A cynical cosmopolitanism would have left her cold； but
here； apparently； was a cultivated man burning with a sense of the
world's wrongs。 Ditmar； who was to have led her out of captivity； had
only thrust her the deeper into bondage。。。。 She joined the group；
halting on the edge of it； listening。 Rolfe was arguing with a man about
the labour unions； but almost at once she knew she had fixed his
attention。 From time to time； as he talked； his eyes sought hers boldly；
and in their dark pupils were tiny points of light that stirred and
confused her； made her wonder what was behind them； in his soul。 When he
had finished his argument； he singled her out。
〃You do not work in the mills？〃 he asked。
〃No； I'm a stenographeror I was one。〃
〃And now？〃
〃I've given up my place。〃
〃You want to join us？〃
〃I was interested in what you said。 I never heard anything like it
before。〃
He looked at her intently。
〃Come； let us walk a little way；〃 he said。 And she went along by his
side； through the Common； feeling a neophyte's excitement in the
freemasonry； the contempt for petty conventions of this newly achieved
doctrine of brotherhood。 〃I will give you things to read； you shall be
one of us。〃
〃I'm afraid I shouldn't understand them；〃 Janet replied。 〃I've read so
little。〃
〃Oh； you will understand；〃 he assured her； easily。 〃There is too much
learning； too much reason and intelligence in the world； too little
impulse and feeling； intuition。 Where do reason and intelligence lead
us？ To selfishness； to thirst for power…straight into the master class。
They separate us from the mass of humanity。 No； our fight is against
those who claim more enlightenment than their fellowmen； who control the
public schools and impose reason on our children； because reason leads to
submission； makes us content with our station in life。 The true
syndicalist is an artist； a revolutionist！〃 he cried。
Janet found this bewildering and yet through it seemed to shine for her a
gleam of light。 Her excitement grew。 Never before had she been in the
presence of one who talked like this； with such assurance and ease。 And
the fact that he despised knowledge； yet possessed it； lent him glamour。
〃But you have studied！〃 she exclaimed。
〃Oh yes； I have studied；〃 he replied； with a touch of weariness； 〃only to
learn that life is simple； after all； and that what is needed for the
social order is simple。 We have only to take what belongs to us； we who
work； to follow our feelings； our inclinations。〃
〃You would take possession of the mills？〃 she asked。
〃Yes；〃 he said quickly； 〃of all wealth； and of the government。 There
would be no governmentwe should not need it。 A little courage is all
that is necessary； and we come into our own。 You are a stenographer； you
say。 But youyou are not content； I can see it in your face； in your
eyes。 You have cause to hate them； too； these masters； or you would not
have been herein this place； to…day。 Is it not so？〃
She shivered； but was silent。
〃Is it not so？〃 he repeated。 〃They have wronged you； too； perhaps；they
have wronged us all； but some are too stupid； too cowardly to fight and
crush them。 Christians and slaves submit。 The old religion teaches that
the world is cruel for most of us； but if we are obedient and humble we
shall be rewarded in heaven。〃 Rolfe laughed。 〃The masters approve of
that teaching。 They would not have it changed。 But for us it is war。
We'll strike and keep on striking； we'll break their machinery； spoil
their mills and factories； and drive them out。 And even if we do not win
at once； it is better to suffer and die fighting than to have the life
ground out of usis it not？〃
〃Yes； it is better！〃 she agreed。 The passion in her voice did not escape
him。
〃Some day； perhaps sooner than we think； we shall have the true
Armageddon； the general strike； when the last sleeping toiler shall have
aroused himself from his lethargy to rise up and come into his
inheritance。〃 He seemed to detach himself from her； his eyes became more
luminous。
〃‘Like unseen music in the night；'so Sorel writes about it。 They may
scoff at it； the wise ones； but it will come。 ‘Like music in the night！'
You respond to that！〃
Again she was silent。 They had walked on； through familiar streets that
now seemed strange。
〃You respondI can tell；〃 he said。 〃And yet； you are not like these
others； like me； even。 You are an American。 And yet you are not like
most of your countrywomen。〃
〃Why do you say that？〃
〃I will tell you。 Because they are cold； most of them； and trivial； they
do not feel。 But youyou can feel； you can love and hate。 You look
calm and cold； but you are notI knew it when I looked at you； when you
came up to me。〃
She did not know whether to resent or welcome his clairvoyance； his
assumption of intimacy； his air of appropriation。 But her curiosity was
tingling。
〃And you？〃 she asked。 〃Your name is Rolfe； isn't it？〃
He assented。 〃And yours？〃
She told him。
〃You have been in America longyour family？〃
〃Very long；〃 she said。 〃But you speak Italian； and Rolfe isn't an
Italian name。〃
〃My father was an Englishman； an artist； who lived in Italymy mother a
peasant woman from Lombardy； such as these who come to work in the mills。
When she was young she was beautifullike a Madonna by an old master。〃
〃An old master？〃
〃The old masters are the great painters who lived in Italy four hundred
years ago。 I was named after one of themthe greatest。 I am called
Leonard。 He was Leonardo da Vinci。〃
The name； as Rolfe pronounced it； stirred her。 And art； painting！ It
was a realm unknown to her； and yet the very suggestion of it evoked
yearnings。 And she recalled a picture in the window of Hartmann's book…
store； a coloured print before which she used to stop on her way to and
from the office； the copy of a landscape by a California artist。 The
steep hillside in the foreground was spread with the misty green of olive
trees； and beyondfar beyonda snow…covered peak； like some high altar；
flamed red in the sunset。 She had not been able to express her feeling
for this picture； it had filled her with joy and sadness。 Once she had
ventured to enter and ask its priceten dollars。 And then came a
morning when she had looked for it； and it was gone。
〃And your fatherdid he paint beautiful pictures； too？〃
〃Ah； he was too much of a socialist。 He was always away whey I was a
child； and after my mother's death he used to take me with him。 When I
was seventeen we went to Milan to take part in the great strike； and
there I saw the soldiers shooting down the workers by the hundreds；
putting them in prison by the thousands。 Then I went to live in England；
among the socialists there； and I learned the printer's trade。 When I
first came to this country I was on a labour paper in New York； I set up
type； I wrote articles； and once in a while I addressed meetings on the
East Side。 But even before I left London I had read a book on
Syndicalism by one of the great Frenchme