第 41 节
作者:瞎说呗      更新:2024-01-24 16:00      字数:9322
  consolation;  or I would bring them to my kind consoler。  Let the memory of  that letter; if you please; be buried。'  And then as she  continued to gaze at him; being; in spite of herself; pained  by his elaborate phrase; doubtfully sincere in word and  manner: 'Let it be enough;' he added haughtily; 'that if this  matter wring my heart; it doth not touch my conscience。  I am  a man; I would have you to know; who suffers undeservedly。'
  He had never spoken so directly: never with so convincing an  emotion; and her heart thrilled for him。  She could have  taken his pains and died of them with joy。
  Meanwhile she was left without support。  Jonathan now swore  by his lodger; and lived for him。  He was a fine talker。  He  knew the finest sight of stories; he was a man and a  gentleman; take him for all in all; and a perfect credit to  Old England。  Such were the old man's declared sentiments;  and sure enough he clung to Mr。 Archer's side; hung upon his  utterance when he spoke; and watched him with unwearing  interest when he was silent。  And yet his feeling was not  clear; in the partial wreck of his mind; which was leaning to  decay; some after…thought was strongly present。  As he gazed  in Mr。 Archer's face a sudden brightness would kindle in his  rheumy eyes; his eye…brows would lift as with a sudden  thought; his mouth would open as though to speak; and close  again on silence。  Once or twice he even called Mr。 Archer  mysteriously forth into the dark courtyard; took him by the  button; and laid a demonstrative finger on his chest; but  there his ideas or his courage failed him; he would  shufflingly excuse himself and return to his position by the  fire without a word of explanation。  'The good man was  growing old;' said Mr。 Archer with a suspicion of a shrug。   But the good man had his idea; and even when he was alone the  name of Mr。 Archer fell from his lips continually in the  course of mumbled and gesticulative conversation。
  THE GREAT NORTH ROAD CHAPTER VI … THE BAD HALF…CROWN
  HOWEVER early Nance arose; and she was no sluggard; the old  man; who had begun to outlive the earthly habit of slumber;  would usually have been up long before; the fire would be  burning brightly; and she would see him wandering among the  ruins; lantern in hand; and talking assiduously to himself。   One day; however; after he had returned late from the market  town; she found that she had stolen a march upon that  indefatigable early riser。  The kitchen was all blackness。   She crossed the castle…yard to the wood…cellar; her steps  printing the thick hoarfrost。  A scathing breeze blew out of  the north…east and slowly carried a regiment of black and  tattered clouds over the face of heaven; which was already  kindled with the wild light of morning; but where she walked;  in shelter of the ruins; the flame of her candle burned  steady。  The extreme cold smote upon her conscience。  She  could not bear to think this bitter business fell usually to  the lot of one so old as Jonathan; and made desperate  resolutions to be earlier in the future。
  The fire was a good blaze before he entered; limping dismally  into the kitchen。  'Nance;' said he; 'I be all knotted up  with the rheumatics; will you rub me a bit?'  She came and  rubbed him where and how he bade her。  'This is a cruel thing  that old age should be rheumaticky;' said he。  'When I was  young I stood my turn of the teethache like a man! for why?  because it couldn't last for ever; but these rheumatics come  to live and die with you。  Your aunt was took before the time  came; never had an ache to mention。  Now I lie all night in  my single bed and the blood never warms in me; this knee of  mine it seems like lighted up with rheumatics; it seems as  though you could see to sew by it; and all the strings of my  old body ache; as if devils was pulling 'em。  Thank you  kindly; that's someways easier now; but an old man; my dear;  has little to look for; it's pain; pain; pain to the end of  the business; and I'll never be rightly warm again till I get  under the sod;' he said; and looked down at her with a face  so aged and weary that she had nearly wept。
  'I lay awake all night;' he continued; 'I do so mostly; and a  long walk kills me。  Eh; deary me; to think that life should  run to such a puddle!  And I remember long syne when I was  strong; and the blood all hot and good about me; and I loved  to run; too … deary me; to run!  Well; that's all by。  You'd  better pray to be took early; Nance; and not live on till you  get to be like me; and are robbed in your grey old age; your  cold; shivering; dark old age; that's like a winter's  morning'; and he bitterly shuddered; spreading his hands  before the fire。
  'Come now;' said Nance; 'the more you say the less you'll  like it; Uncle Jonathan; but if I were you I would be proud  for to have lived all your days honest and beloved; and come  near the end with your good name: isn't that a fine thing to  be proud of?  Mr。 Archer was telling me in some strange land  they used to run races each with a lighted candle; and the  art was to keep the candle burning。  Well; now; I thought  that was like life: a man's good conscience is the flame he  gets to carry; and if he comes to the winning…post with that  still burning; why; take it how you will; the man's a hero …  even if he was low…born like you and me。'
  'Did Mr。 Archer tell you that?' asked Jonathan。
  'No; dear;' said she; 'that's my own thought about it。  He  told me of the race。  But see; now;' she continued; putting  on the porridge; 'you say old age is a hard season; but so is  youth。  You're half out of the battle; I would say; you loved  my aunt and got her; and buried her; and some of these days  soon you'll go to meet her; and take her my love and tell her  I tried to take good care of you; for so I do; Uncle  Jonathan。'
  Jonathan struck with his fist upon the settle。  'D' ye think  I want to die; ye vixen?' he shouted。  'I want to live ten  hundred years。'
  This was a mystery beyond Nance's penetration; and she stared  in wonder as she made the porridge。
  'I want to live;' he continued; 'I want to live and to grow  rich。  I want to drive my carriage and to dice in hells and  see the ring; I do。  Is this a life that I lived?  I want to  be a rake; d' ye understand?  I want to know what things are  like。  I don't want to die like a blind kitten; and me  seventy…six。'
  'O fie!' said Nance。
  The old man thrust out his jaw at her; with the grimace of an  irreverent schoolboy。  Upon that aged face it seemed a  blasphemy。  Then he took out of his bosom a long leather  purse; and emptying its contents on the settle; began to  count and recount the pieces; ringing and examining each; and  suddenly he leapt like a young man。  'What!' he screamed。   'Bad?  O Lord!  I'm robbed again!'  And falling on his knees  before the settle he began to pour forth the most dreadful  curses on the head of his deceiver。  His eyes were shut; for  to him this vile solemnity was prayer。  He held up the bad  half…crown in his right hand; as though he were displaying it  to Heaven; and what increased the horror of the scene; the  curses he invoked were those whose efficacy he had tasted …  old age and poverty; rheumatism and an ungrateful son。  Nance  listened appalled; then she sprang forward and dragged down  his arm and laid her hand upon his mouth。
  'Whist!' she cried。  'Whist ye; for God's sake!  O my man;  whist ye!  If Heaven were to hear; if poor Aunt Susan were to  hear!  Think; she may be listening。'  And with the  histrionism of strong emotion she pointed to a corner of the  kitchen。
  His eyes followed her finger。  He looked there for a little;  thinking; blinking; then he got stiffly to his feet and  resumed his place upon the settle; the bad piece still in his  hand。  So he sat for some time; looking upon the half…crown;  and now wondering to himself on the injustice and partiality  of the law; now computing again and again the nature of his  loss。  So he was still sitting when Mr。 Archer entered the  kitchen。  At this a light came into his face; and after some  seconds of rumination he dispatched Nance upon an errand。
  'Mr。 Archer;' said he; as soon as they were alone together;  'would you give me a guinea…piece for silver?'
  'Why; sir; I believe I can;' said Mr。 Archer。
  And the exchange was just effected when Nance re…entered the  apartment。  The blood shot into her face。
  'What's to do here?' she asked rudely。
  'Nothing; my dearie;' said old Jonathan; with a touch of  whine。
  'What's to do?' she said again。
  'Your uncle was but changing me a piece of gold;' returned  Mr。 Archer。
  'Let me see what he hath given you; Mr。 Archer;' replied the  girl。  'I had a bad piece; and I fear it is mixed up among  the good。'
  'Well; well;' replied Mr。 Archer; smiling; 'I must take the  merchant's risk of it。  The money is now mixed。'
  'I know my piece;' quoth Nance。  'Come; let me see your  silver; Mr。 Archer。  If I have to get it by a theft I'll see  that money;' she cried。
  'Nay; child; if you put as much passion to be honest as the  world to steal; I must give way; though I betray myself;'  said Mr。 Archer。  'There it is as I received it。'
  Nance quickly found th