爱爱小说网 > 其他电子书 > lay morals >

第29章

lay morals-第29章

小说: lay morals 字数: 每页3500字

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!




I believe in a better state of things; that there will be no  more nurses; and that every mother will nurse her own  offspring; for what can be more hardening and demoralising  than to call forth the tenderest feelings of a woman's heart  and cherish them yourself as long as you need them; as long  as your children require a nurse to love them; and then to  blight and thwart and destroy them; whenever your own use for  them is at an end。  This may be Utopian; but it is always a  little thing if one mother or two mothers can be brought to  feel more tenderly to those who share their toil and have no  part in their reward。



SKETCHES CHAPTER V … A CHARACTER



THE man has a red; bloated face; and his figure is short and  squat。  So far there is nothing in him to notice; but when  you see his eyes; you can read in these hard and shallow orbs  a depravity beyond measure depraved; a thirst after  wickedness; the pure; disinterested love of Hell for its own  sake。  The other night; in the street; I was watching an  omnibus passing with lit…up windows; when I heard some one  coughing at my side as though he would cough his soul out;  and turning round; I saw him stopping under a lamp; with a  brown greatcoat buttoned round him and his whole face  convulsed。  It seemed as if he could not live long; and so  the sight set my mind upon a train of thought; as I finished  my cigar up and down the lighted streets。

He is old; but all these years have not yet quenched his  thirst for evil; and his eyes still delight themselves in  wickedness。  He is dumb; but he will not let that hinder his  foul trade; or perhaps I should say; his yet fouler  amusement; and he has pressed a slate into the service of  corruption。  Look at him; and he will sign to you with his  bloated head; and when you go to him in answer to the sign;  thinking perhaps that the poor dumb man has lost his way; you  will see what he writes upon his slate。  He haunts the doors  of schools; and shows such inscriptions as these to the  innocent children that come out。  He hangs about picture… galleries; and makes the noblest pictures the text for some  silent homily of vice。  His industry is a lesson to  ourselves。  Is it not wonderful how he can triumph over his  infirmities and do such an amount of harm without a tongue?   Wonderful industry … strange; fruitless; pleasureless toil?   Must not the very devil feel a soft emotion to see his  disinterested and laborious service?  Ah; but the devil knows  better than this: he knows that this man is penetrated with  the love of evil and that all his pleasure is shut up in  wickedness: he recognises him; perhaps; as a fit type for  mankind of his satanic self; and watches over his effigy as  we might watch over a favourite likeness。  As the business  man comes to love the toil; which he only looked upon at  first as a ladder towards other desires and less unnatural  gratifications; so the dumb man has felt the charm of his  trade and fallen captivated before the eyes of sin。  It is a  mistake when preachers tell us that vice is hideous and  loathsome; for even vice has her Horsel and her devotees; who  love her for her own sake。



THE GREAT NORTH ROAD CHAPTER I … NANCE AT THE 'GREEN DRAGON'



NANCE HOLDAWAY was on her knees before the fire blowing the  green wood that voluminously smoked upon the dogs; and only  now and then shot forth a smothered flame; her knees already  ached and her eyes smarted; for she had been some while at  this ungrateful task; but her mind was gone far away to meet  the coming stranger。  Now she met him in the wood; now at the  castle gate; now in the kitchen by candle…light; each fresh  presentment eclipsed the one before; a form so elegant;  manners so sedate; a countenance so brave and comely; a voice  so winning and resolute … sure such a man was never seen!   The thick…coming fancies poured and brightened in her head  like the smoke and flames upon the hearth。

Presently the heavy foot of her uncle Jonathan was heard upon  the stair; and as he entered the room she bent the closer to  her work。  He glanced at the green fagots with a sneer; and  looked askance at the bed and the white sheets; at the strip  of carpet laid; like an island; on the great expanse of the  stone floor; and at the broken glazing of the casement  clumsily repaired with paper。

'Leave that fire a…be;' he cried。  'What; have I toiled all  my life to turn innkeeper at the hind end?  Leave it a…be; I  say。'

'La; uncle; it doesn't burn a bit; it only smokes;' said  Nance; looking up from her position。

'You are come of decent people on both sides;' returned the  old man。  'Who are you to blow the coals for any Robin…run… agate?  Get up; get on your hood; make yourself useful; and  be off to the 〃Green Dragon。〃'

'I thought you was to go yourself;' Nance faltered。

'So did I;' quoth Jonathan; 'but it appears I was mistook。'

The very excess of her eagerness alarmed her; and she began  to hang back。  'I think I would rather not; dear uncle;' she  said。  'Night is at hand; and I think; dear; I would rather  not。'

'Now you look here;' replied Jonathan; 'I have my lord's  orders; have I not?  Little he gives me; but it's all my  livelihood。  And do you fancy; if I disobey my lord; I'm  likely to turn round for a lass like you?  No; I've that  hell…fire of pain in my old knee; I wouldn't walk a mile; not  for King George upon his bended knees。'  And he walked to the  window and looked down the steep scarp to where the river  foamed in the bottom of the dell。

Nance stayed for no more bidding。  In her own room; by the  glimmer of the twilight; she washed her hands and pulled on  her Sunday mittens; adjusted her black hood; and tied a dozen  times its cherry ribbons; and in less than ten minutes; with  a fluttering heart and excellently bright eyes; she passed  forth under the arch and over the bridge; into the thickening  shadows of the groves。  A well…marked wheel…track conducted  her。  The wood; which upon both sides of the river dell was a  mere scrambling thicket of hazel; hawthorn; and holly;  boasted on the level of more considerable timber。  Beeches  came to a good growth; with here and there an oak; and the  track now passed under a high arcade of branches; and now ran  under the open sky in glades。  As the girl proceeded these  glades became more frequent; the trees began again to decline  in size; and the wood to degenerate into furzy coverts。  Last  of all there was a fringe of elders; and beyond that the  track came forth upon an open; rolling moorland; dotted with  wind…bowed and scanty bushes; and all golden brown with the  winter; like a grouse。  Right over against the girl the last  red embers of the sunset burned under horizontal clouds; the  night fell clear and still and frosty; and the track in low  and marshy passages began to crackle under foot with ice。

Some half a mile beyond the borders of the wood the lights of  the 'Green Dragon' hove in sight; and running close beside  them; very faint in the dying dusk; the pale ribbon of the  Great North Road。  It was the back of the post…house that was  presented to Nance Holdaway; and as she continued to draw  near and the night to fall more completely; she became aware  of an unusual brightness and bustle。  A post…chaise stood in  the yard; its lamps already lighted: light shone hospitably  in the windows and from the open door; moving lights and  shadows testified to the activity of servants bearing  lanterns。  The clank of pails; the stamping of hoofs on the  firm causeway; the jingle of harness; and; last of all; the  energetic hissing of a groom; began to fall upon her ear。  By  the stir you would have thought the mail was at the door; but  it was still too early in the night。  The down mail was not  due at the 'Green Dragon' for hard upon an hour; the up mail  from Scotland not before two in the black morning。

Nance entered the yard somewhat dazzled。  Sam; the tall  ostler; was polishing a curb…chain wit sand; the lantern at  his feet letting up spouts of candle…light through the holes  with which its conical roof was peppered。

'Hey; miss;' said he jocularly; 'you won't look at me any  more; now you have gentry at the castle。'

Her cheeks burned with anger。

'That's my lord's chay;' the man continued; nodding at the  chaise; 'Lord Windermoor's。  Came all in a fluster … dinner;  bowl of punch; and put the horses to。 For all the world like  a runaway match; my dear … bar the bride。  He brought Mr。  Archer in the chay with him。'

'Is that Holdaway?' cried the landlord from the lighted  entry; where he stood shading his eyes。

'Only me; sir;' answered Nance。

'O; you; Miss Nance;' he said。  'Well; come in quick; my  pretty。  My lord is waiting for your uncle。'

And he ushered Nance into a room cased with yellow wainscot  and lighted by tall candles; where two gentlemen sat at a  table finishing a bowl of punch。  One of these was stout;  elderly; and irascible; with a face like a full moon; well  dyed with liquor; thick tremulous lips; a short; purple hand;  in which he brandished a long pipe; and an abrupt and  gobbling utterance。  This was my Lord Windermoor。  In his  companion Nance beheld a younger man; tall; quiet; grave;  demurely dressed; and wearing his own hair。  Her glance but  lighted on him; and she flushed; for in that second she made  sure that she had twice betrayed herself … betrayed by the  involuntary flash of her black eyes her secret impatience to  behold this new companion; and; what was far worse; betrayed  her disappointment in the realisation of her dreams。  He;  meanwhile; as if unconscious; continued to regard her with  unmoved decorum。

'O; a man of wood;' thought Nance。

'What … what?' said his lordship。  'Who is this?'

'If you please; my lord; I am Holdaway's niece;' replied  Nance; with a curtsey。

'Should have been here himself;' observed his lordship。   'Well; you tell Holdaway that I'm aground; not a stiver … not  a stiver。  I'm running from the beagles … going abroad; tell  Holdaway。  And he need look for no more wages: glad of 'em  myself; if I could get 'em。  He can live in the castle if he  likes; or go to the devil。  O; and here is Mr。 Archer; and I  recommend him to take him in … a friend of mine … and Mr。  Archer will pay; as I wrote。  And I regard that in the light  of a precious good thing for Holdaway; let me tell you; and a  set…off against the wages。'

'But O; my lord!' cried Nance; 'we live upon the wages; and  what are we to do without?'

'What am I to do? … what am I to do?' replied Lord Windermoor  with some exasperation。  'I have no wages。  And there is Mr。  Archer。  And if Holdaway doesn't like it; he can go to the  devil; and you with him! … and you with him!'

'And yet; my lord;' said Mr。 Archer; 'these good people will  have as keen a sense of loss as you or I; keener; perhaps;  since they have done nothing to deserve it。'

'Deserve it?' cried the peer。  'What?  What?  If a rascally  highwayman comes up to me with a confounded pistol; do you  say that I've deserved it?  How often am I to tell you; sir;  that I was cheated … that I was cheated?'

'You are happy in the belief;' returned Mr。 Archer gravely。

'Archer; you would be the death of me!' exclaimed his 

返回目录 上一页 下一页 回到顶部 1 1

你可能喜欢的