bleak house(凄凉的房子)-第264节
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“Get on； my lads！”
The steadiness and confidence with which he had directed our
journey back； I could not account for。 Never wavering； he never
even stopped to make an inquiry until we were within a few miles
of London。 A very few words； here and there； were then enough
for him； and thus we came； at between three and four o’clock in
the morning； into Islington。
I will not dwell on the suspense and anxiety with which I
reflected all this time； that we were leaving my mother farther and
farther behind every minute。 I think I had some strong hope that
he must be right； and could not fail to have a satisfactory object in
following this woman； but I tormented myself with questioning it；
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Bleak House 1099
and discussing it； during the whole journey。 What was to ensue
when we found her； and what could compensate us for this loss of
time； were questions also that I could not possibly dismiss； my
mind was quite tortured by long dwelling on such reflections；
when we stopped。
We stopped in a high…street； where there was a coach…stand。 My
companion paid our two drivers； who were as completely covered
with splashes as if they had been dragged along the roads like the
carriage itself； and giving them some brief direction where to take
it； lifted me out of it； and into a hackney…coach he had chosen from
the rest。
“Why； my dear；” he said； as he did this。 “How wet you are！”
I had not been conscious of it。 But the melted snow had found
its way into the carriage； and I had got out two or three times
when a fallen horse was plunging and had to be got up； and the
wet had penetrated my dress。 I assured him it was no matter； but
the driver； who knew him； would not be dissuaded by me from
running down the street to his stable； whence he brought an
armful of clean dry straw。 They shook it out and strewed it well
about me； and I found it warm and comfortable。
“Now； my dear；” said Mr Bucket； with his head in at the
window after I was shut up。 “We’re going to mark this person
down。 It may take a little time； but you don’t mind that。 You’re
pretty sure that I’ve got a motive。 Ain’t you？”
I little thought what it was—little thought in how short a time I
should understand it better； but I assured him that I had
confidence in him。
“So you may have； my dear；” he returned。 “And I tell you what！
If you only repose half as much confidence in me as I repose in
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you； after what I’ve experienced of you； that’ll do。 Lord！ you’re no
trouble at all。 I never see a young woman in any station of
society—and I’ve seen many elevated ones too—conduct herself
like you have conducted yourself； since you was called out of your
bed。 You’re a pattern； you know； that’s what you are；” said Mr
Bucket warmly； “you’re a pattern。”
I told him I was very glad； as indeed I was； to have been no
hindrance to him； and that I hoped I should be none now。
“My dear；” he returned； “when a young lady is as mild as she’s
game； and as game as she’s mild； that’s all I ask； and more than I
expect。 She then becomes a Queen； and that’s about what you are
yourself。”
With these encouraging words—they really were encouraging
to me under those lonely and anxious circumstances—he got upon
the box； and we once more drove away。 Where we drove； I neither
knew then； nor have ever known since； but we appeared to seek
out the narrowest and worst streets in London。 Whenever I saw
him directing the driver； I was prepared for our descending into a
deeper complication of such streets； and we never failed to do so。
Sometimes we emerged upon a wider thoroughfare； or came to
a larger building than the generality； well lighted。 Then we
stopped at offices like those we had visited when we began our
journey； and I saw him in consultation with others。 Sometimes he
would get down by an archway； or at a street corner； and
mysteriously show the light of his little lantern。 This would attract
similar lights from various dark quarters； like so many insects； and
a fresh consultation would be held。 By degrees we appeared to
contract our search within narrower and easier limits。 Single
police officers on duty could now tell Mr Bucket what he wanted
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Bleak House 1101
to know； and point to him where to go。 At last we stopped for a
rather long conversation between him and one of these men；
which I supposed to be satisfactory from his manner of nodding
from time to time。 When it was finished he came to me； looking
very busy and very attentive。
“Now； Miss Summerson；” he said to me； “you won’t be alarmed
whatever comes off； I know。 It’s not necessary for me to give you
any further caution； than to tell you that we have marked this
person down； and that you may be of use to me before I know it
myself。 I don’t like to ask such a thing； my dear； but would you
walk a little way？”
Of course I got out directly； and took his arm。
“It ain’t so easy to keep your feet；” said Mr Bucket； “but take
time。”
Although I looked about me confusedly and hurriedly； as we
crossed a street； I thought I knew the place。
“Are we in Holborn？” I asked him。
“Yes；” said Mr Bucket。 “Do you know this turning？”
“It looks like Chancery Lane。”
“And was christened so； my dear；” said Mr Bucket。
We turned down it； and as we went； shuffling through the sleet；
I heard the clock strike half…past five。 We passed on in silence； and
as quickly as we could with such a foothold； when some one
coming towards us on the narrow pavement； wrapped in a cloak；
stopped and stood aside to give me room。 In the same moment I
heard an exclamation of wonder； and my own name； from Mr
Woodcourt。 I knew his voice very well。
It was so unexpected； and so—I don’t know what to call it；
whether pleasant or painful—to come upon it after my feverish
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wandering journey； and in the midst of the night； that I could not
keep back the tears from my eyes。 It was like hearing his voice in a
strange country。
“My dear Miss Summerson； that you should be out at this hour；
and in such weather！” He had heard from my Guardian of my
having been called away on some uncommon business； and said so
to dispense with any explanation。 I told him that we had but just
left a coach； and were going—but then I was obliged to look at my
companion。
“Why； you see； Mr Woodcourt；” he had caught the name from
me； “we are a…going at present into the next street。—Inspector
Bucket。”
Mr Woodcourt； disregarding my remonstrances； had hurriedly
taken off his cloak； and was putting it about me。 “That’s a good
move； too；” said Mr Bucket； assisting； “a very good move。”
“May I go with you？” said Mr Woodcourt。 I don’t know whether
to me or my companion。
“Why； lord！” exclaimed Mr Bucket； taking the answer on
himself。 “Of course you may。”
It was all said in a moment； and they took me between them；
wrapped in a cloak。
“I have just left Richard；” said Mr Woodcourt。 “I have been
sitting with him since ten o’clock last
