354
SAMUEL BECKETT
And lose ground we can ill afford? said Mercier.
We can't stay stuck here all night, said Camier, like a couple of
clots.
Let us toss our umbrella, said Mercier.
It
will fall in a certain way,
according to laws of which we know nothing. Then all we have to do
is press forward in the designated direction.
The umbrella answered, Left!
It
resembled a great wounded bird,
a great bird of ill omen shot down by hunters and awaiting quivering
the coup de gdce. The likeness was striking. Camier picked it up and
hung it from his pocket.
It is not broken, I trust, said Mercier.
Here their attention was drawn to a strange figure, that of a gen–
tleman wearing, despite the rawness of the air, a simple frock-coat and
top-hat. He seemed, for the moment, to be going their way, for their
view was of his rear. His hands, in a gesture coquettishly demential,
held high and wide apart the skirts of his cutaway. He advanced wari–
ly, with stiff and open tread.
Do you feel like singing? said Camier.
Not to my knowledge, said Mercier.
The rain was beginning again. But had it ever ceased?
Let us make haste, said Camier.
Why do you ask me that? said Mercier.
Camier seemed in no hurry to reply. Finally he said:
I hear singing.
They halted, the better to listen.
I hear nothing, said Mercier.
And yet you have good ears, said Camier, so far as I know.
Very fair, said Mercier.
Strange, said Camier.
Do you hear it still? said Mercier.
For all the world a mixed choir, said Camier.
Perhaps it's a delusion, said Mercier.
Possibly, said Camier.
Let's run, said Mercier.
They ran some little way in the dark and wet, without meeting a
soul. When they had done running Mercier deplored the nice state,
soaked
LO
the buff, in which they would arrive at Helen 's, to which in
reply Camier described how they would immediately strip and put
their things
to
dry, before the fire or in the hot-cupboard with the boil–
er and hot water pipes.
