three ghost stories(三个鬼故事)-第1节
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Three Ghost Stories
Three Ghost Stories
Charles Dickens
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Three Ghost Stories
THE SIGNAL…MAN
〃Halloa！ Below there！〃
When he heard a voice thus calling to him； he was standing at the door
of his box； with a flag in his hand； furled round its short pole。 One would
have thought； considering the nature of the ground； that he could not have
doubted from what quarter the voice came； but instead of looking up to
where I stood on the top of the steep cutting nearly over his head； he
turned himself about； and looked down the Line。 There was something
remarkable in his manner of doing so； though I could not have said for my
life what。 But I know it was remarkable enough to attract my notice； even
though his figure was foreshortened and shadowed； down in the deep
trench； and mine was high above him； so steeped in the glow of an angry
sunset； that I had shaded my eyes with my hand before I saw him at all。
〃Halloa！ Below！〃
From looking down the Line； he turned himself about again； and；
raising his eyes； saw my figure high above him。
〃Is there any path by which I can come down and speak to you？〃
He looked up at me without replying； and I looked down at him
without pressing him too soon with a repetition of my idle question。 Just
then there came a vague vibration in the earth and air； quickly changing
into a violent pulsation； and an oncoming rush that caused me to start back；
as though it had force to draw me down。 When such vapour as rose to my
height from this rapid train had passed me； and was skimming away over
the landscape； I looked down again； and saw him refurling the flag he had
shown while the train went by。
I repeated my inquiry。 After a pause； during which he seemed to regard
me with fixed attention； he motioned with his rolled…up flag towards a
point on my level； some two or three hundred yards distant。 I called down
to him； 〃All right！〃 and made for that point。 There； by dint of looking
closely about me； I found a rough zigzag descending path notched out；
which I followed。
The cutting was extremely deep； and unusually precipitate。 It was
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Three Ghost Stories
made through a clammy stone； that became oozier and wetter as I went
down。 For these reasons； I found the way long enough to give me time to
recall a singular air of reluctance or compulsion with which he had pointed
out the path。
When I came down low enough upon the zigzag descent to see him
again； I saw that he was standing between the rails on the way by which
the train had lately passed； in an attitude as if he were waiting for me to
appear。 He had his left hand at his chin； and that left elbow rested on his
right hand； crossed over his breast。 His attitude was one of such
expectation and watchfulness that I stopped a moment； wondering at it。
I resumed my downward way； and stepping out upon the level of the
railroad； and drawing nearer to him； saw that he was a dark sallow man；
with a dark beard and rather heavy eyebrows。 His post was in as solitary
and dismal a place as ever I saw。 On either side； a dripping…wet wall of
jagged stone； excluding all view but a strip of sky； the perspective one
way only a crooked prolongation of this great dungeon； the shorter
perspective in the other direction terminating in a gloomy red light； and
the gloomier entrance to a black tunnel； in whose massive architecture
there was a barbarous； depressing； and forbidding air。 So little sunlight
ever found its way to this spot； that it had an earthy； deadly smell； and so
much cold wind rushed through it； that it struck chill to me； as if I had left
the natural world。
Before he stirred； I was near enough to him to have touched him。 Not
even then removing his eyes from mine； he stepped back one step； and
lifted his hand。
This was a lonesome post to occupy （I said）； and it had riveted my
attention when I looked down from up yonder。 A visitor was a rarity； I
should suppose； not an unwelcome rarity； I hoped？ In me； he merely saw a
man who had been shut up within narrow limits all his life； and who； being
at last set free； had a newly…awakened interest in these great works。 To
such purpose I spoke to him； but I am far from sure of the terms I used； for；
besides that I am not happy in opening any conversation； there was
something in the man that daunted me。
He directed a most curious look towards the red light near the tunnel's
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mouth； and looked all about it； as if something were missing from it； and
then looked it me。
That light was part of his charge？ Was it not？
He answered in a low voice；〃Don't you know it is？〃
The monstrous thought came into my mind； as I perused the fixed eyes
and the saturnine face； that this was a spirit； not a man。 I have speculated
since； whether there may have been infection in his mind。
In my turn； I stepped back。 But in making the action； I detected in his
eyes some latent fear of me。 This put the monstrous thought to flight。
〃You look at me；〃 I said； forcing a smile； 〃as if you had a dread of
me。〃
〃I was doubtful；〃 he returned； 〃whether I had seen you before。〃
〃Where？〃
He pointed to the red light he had looked at。
〃There？〃 I said。
Intently watchful of me； he replied （but without sound）； 〃Yes。〃
〃My good fellow； what should I do there？ However； be that as it may； I
never was there； you may swear。〃
〃I think I may；〃 he rejoined。 〃Yes； I am sure I may。〃
His manner cleared； like my own。 He replied to my remarks with
readiness； and in well…chosen words。 Had he much to do there？ Yes； that
was to say； he had enough responsibility to bear； but exactness and
watchfulness were what was required of him； and of actual work manual
labourhe had next to none。 To change that signal； to trim those lights； and
to turn this iron handle now and then； was all he had to do under that head。
Regarding those many long and lonely hours of which I seemed to make
so much； he could only say that the routine of his life had shaped itself
into that form； and he had grown used to it。 He had taught himself a
language down here；if only to know it by sight； and to have formed his
own crude ideas of its pronunciation； could be called learning it。 He had
also worked at fractions and decimals； and tried a little algebra； but he was；
and had been as a boy； a poor hand at figures。 Was it necessary for him
when on duty always to remain in that channel of damp air； and could he
never rise into the sunshine from between those high stone walls？ Why；
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that depended upon times and circumstances。 Under some conditions there
would be less upon the Line than under others； and the same held good as
to certain hours of the day and night。 In bright weather； he did choose
occasions for getting a little above these lower shadows； but； being at all
times liable to be called by his electric bell； and at such times listening for
it with redoubled anxiety； the relief was less than I would suppose。
He took me into his box； where there was a fire； a desk for an official
book in which he had to make certain entries； a telegraphic instrument
with its dial； face； and needles； and the little bell of which he had spoken。
On my trusting that he would excuse the remark that he had been well
educated； and （I hoped I might say without offence） perhaps educated
above that station； he observed that instances of slight incongruity in such
wise would rarely be found wanting among large bodies of men； that he
had heard it was so in workhouses； in the police force； even in that last
de
