hard times(艰难时世)-第21章
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!
“How long; Rachael; is’t looked for; that she’ll be so?”
“Doctor said she would haply come to her mind tomorrow。”
His eyes again fell on the bottle; and a tremble passed over him;
causing him to shiver in every limb。 She thought he was chilled
with the wet。 “No;” he said; “it was not that。 He had had a fright。”
“A fright?”
“Ay; ay! coming in。 When I were walking。 When I were
thinking。 When I—” It seized him again; and he stood up; holding
by the mantle…shelf; as he pressed his dank cold hair down with a
hand that shook as if it were palsied。
“Stephen!”
She was coming to him; but he stretched out his arm to stop
her。
“No! Don’t please; don’t! Let me see thee setten by the bed。 Let
me see thee; a’ so good; and so forgiving。 Let me see thee as I have
seen thee when I coom in。 I can never see thee better than so。
Never; never; never!”
He had a violent fit of trembling; and then sunk into his chair。
After a time he controlled himself; and resting with an elbow on
one knee; and his head upon that hand; could look toward
Rachael。 Seen across the dim candle with his moistened eyes; she
looked as if she had a glory shining round her head。 He could have
believed she had。 He did believe it; as the noise without shook the
window; rattled at the door below; and went about the house
clamouring and lamenting。
“When she gets better; Stephen; ’tis to be hoped she’ll leave
thee to thyself again; and do thee no more hurt。 Anyways we will
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
… Page 113…
Hard Times 113
hope so now。 And now I shall keep silence; for I want thee to
sleep。”
He closed his eyes; more to please her than to rest his weary
head; but; by slow degrees as he listened to the great noise of the
wind; he ceased to hear it; or it changed into the working of his
loom; or even into the voices of the day (his own included) saying
what had been really said。 Even this imperfect consciousness
faded away at last; and he dreamed a long; troubled dream。
He thought that he; and some one on whom his heart had long
been set—but she was not Rachael; and that surprised him; even
in the midst of his imaginary happiness—stood in the church
being married。 While the ceremony was performing; and while he
recognised among the witnesses some whom he knew to be living;
and many whom he knew to be dead; darkness came on;
succeeded by the shining of a tremendous light。 It broke from one
line in the table of commandments at the altar; and illuminated
the building with the words。 They were sounded through the
church too; as if there were voices in the fiery letters。 Upon this;
the whole appearance before him and around him changed; and
nothing was left as it had been; but himself and the clergyman。
They stood in the daylight before a crowd so vast; that if all the
people in the world could have been brought together into one
space; they could not have looked; he thought; more numerous;
and they all abhorred him; and there was not one pitying or
friendly eye among the millions that were fastened on his face。 He
stood on a raised stage; under his own loom; and; looking up at the
shape the loom took; and hearing the burial service distinctly read;
he knew that he was there to suffer death。 In an instant what he
stood on fell below him; and he was gone。
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
… Page 114…
Hard Times 114
Out of what mystery he came back to his usual life; and to
places that he knew; he was unable to consider; but he was back in
those places by some means; and with this condemnation upon
him; that he was never; in this world or the next; through all the
unimaginable ages of eternity; to look on Rachael’s face or hear
her voice。 Wandering to fro; unceasingly; without hope; and in
search of he knew not what (he only knew that he was doomed to
seek it); he was the subject of a nameless; horrible dread; a mortal
fear of one particular shape which everything took。 Whatsoever he
looked at; grew into that form sooner or later。 The object of his
miserable existence was to prevent its recognition by any one
among the various people he encountered。 Hopeless labour! If he
led them out of rooms where it was; if he shut up drawers and
closets where it stood; if he drew the curious from places where he
knew it to be secreted; and got them out into the streets; the very
chimneys of the mills assumed that shape; and round them was
the printed word。
The wind was blowing again; the rain was beating on the
housetops; and the larger spaces through which he had strayed
contracted to the four walls of his room。 Saving that the fire had
died out; it was as his eyes had closed upon it。 Rachael seemed to
have fallen into a dose; in the chair by the bed。 She sat wrapped in
her shawl; perfectly still。 The table stood in the same place; close
by the bedside; and on it; in its real proportions and appearance;
was the shape so often repeated。
He thought he saw the curtain move。 He looked again; and he
was sure it moved。 He saw a hand come forth; and grope about a
little。 Then the curtain moved more perceptibly; and the woman in
the bed put it back; and sat up。
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
… Page 115…
Hard Times 115
With her woeful eyes; so haggard and wild; so heavy and large;
she looked all round the room; and passed the corner where he
slept in his chair。 Her eyes returned to that corner; and she put
her hand over them as a shade; while she looked into it。 Again they
went all round the room; scarcely heeding Rachael if at all; and
returned to that corner。 He thought; as she once more shaded
them—not so much looking at him; as looking for him with a
brutish instinct that he was there—that no single trace was left in
those debauched features; or in the mind that went along with
them; of the woman he had married eighteen years before。 But
that he had seen her come to this by inches; he never could have
believed her to be the same。
All this time; as if a spell were on him; he was motionless and
powerless; except to watch her。
Stupidly dozing; or communing with her incapable self about
nothing; she sat for a little while with her hands at her ears; and
her head resting on them。 Presently; she resumed her staring
round the room。 And now; for the first time; her eyes stopped at
the table with the bottles on it。
Straightway she turned her eyes back to his corner; with the
defiance of last night; and; moving very cautiously and softly;
stretched out her greedy hand。 She drew a mug into the bed; and
sat for a while considering which of the two bottles she should
choose。 Finally; she laid her insensate grasp upon the bottle that
had swift and certain death in it; and; before his eyes; pulled out
the cork with her teeth。
Dream or reality; he had no voice; nor had he power to stir。 If
this be real; and her allotted time be not yet come; wake; Rachael;
wake!
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
… Page 116…
Hard Times 116
She thought of that; too。 She looked at Rachael; and very
slowly; very cautiously; poured out the contents。 The draught was
at her lips。 A moment and she would be past all help; let the whole
world wake and come about her with its utmost power。 But; in
that moment Rachael started up with a suppressed cry。 The
creature struggled; struck her; seized her by the hair; but Rachael
had the cup。
Stephen broke out of his chair。 “Rachael; am I wakin’ or
dreamin’ this dreadfo’ night?”
“’Tis all well; Stephen。 I have been asleep myself。 ’Tis near
three。 Hush! I hear the bells。”
The wind brought the sounds of the church clock to the
window。 They listened; and it struck three。 Stephen looked at her;
saw how pale she was; noted the disorder of her hair; and the red
marks of fingers on her forehead; and felt assured that his senses
of sight and hearing had been awake。 She held the cup in her
hand even now。
“I thought it must be near three;” she said; calmly pouring from
the cup into the basin; and steeping the linen as before。 “I am
thankful I stayed! ’Tis done now; when I have put this on。 There!
And now she’s quiet again。 The few drops in the basin I’ll pour
away; for ’tis bad stuff to leave about; though ever so little of it。” As
she spoke as she drained the basin into the ashes of the fire; and
broke the bottle on the hearth。
She had nothing to do; then; but to cover herself with her shawl
before going out into the wind and rain。
“Thou’lt let me walk wi’ thee at this hour; Rachael?”
“No; Stephen。 ’Tis but a minute and I’m home。”
“Thou’rt not fearfo’;” he said it in a low voice; as they went out
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
… Page 117…
Hard Times 117
at the door; “to leave me alone wi’ her!”
As she looked at him; saying “Stephen?” he went down on