bleak house(凄凉的房子)-第267节
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she saw me coming in at the door； she called me back； and said did
I live here？ and I said yes； and she said she knew only one or two
places about here； but had lost her way； and couldn’t find them。 O
what shall I do； what shall I do！ They won’t believe me！ She didn’t
say any harm to me； and I didn’t say any harm to her； indeed； Mrs
Snagsby！”
It was necessary for her mistress to comfort her； which she did；
I must say； with a good deal of contribution； before she could be
got beyond this。
“She could not find those places；” said I。
“No！” cried the girl； shaking her head。 “No！ Couldn’t find them。
And she was so faint； and lame； and miserable； O so wretched！
that if you had seen her； Mr Snagsby； you’d have given her half…a…
crown； I know！”
“Well； Guster； my girl；” said he； at first not knowing what to
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say。 “I hope I should。”
“And yet she was so well spoken；” said the girl； looking at me
with wide…open eyes； “that it made a person’s heart bleed。 And so
she said to me； did I know the way to the burying…ground？ And I
asked her which burying…ground？ And she said the poor burying…
ground。 And I told her I had been a poor child myself； and it was
according to parishes。 But she said she meant a poor burying…
ground not very far from here； where there was an archway； and a
step； and an iron gate。”
As I watched her face； and soothed her to go on； I saw that Mr
Bucket received this with a look which I could not separate from
one of alarm。
“O dear； dear！” cried the girl； pressing her hair back with her
hands； “what shall I do； what shall I do！ She meant the burying…
ground where the man was buried that took the sleeping stuff—
that you came home and told us of； Mr Snagsby—that frightened
me so； Mrs Snagsby。 O I am frightened again。 Hold me！”
“You are so much better now；” said I。 “Pray； pray tell me
more。”
“Yes I will； yes I will！ But don’t be angry with me； that’s a dear
lady； because I have been so ill。”
Angry with her； poor soul！
“There； now I will； now I will。 So she said； could I tell her how
to find it； and I said yes； and I told her； and she looked at me with
eyes like almost as if she was blind； and herself all waving back。
And so she took out the letter； and showed it me； and said if she
was to put that in the post…office； it would be rubbed out and not
minded and never sent； and would I take it from her； and send it；
and the messenger would be paid at the house？ And so I said yes；
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if it was no harm； and she said no—no harm。 And so I took it from
her； and she said she had nothing to give me； and I said I was poor
myself and consequently wanted nothing。 And so she said God
bless you！ and went。”
“And did she go—？”
“Yes；” cried the girl； anticipating the inquiry； “yes！ she went the
way I had shown her。 Then I came in； and Mrs Snagsby came
behind me from somewhere； and laid hold of me； and I was
frightened。”
Mr Woodcourt took her kindly from me。 Mr Bucket wrapped
me up； and immediately we were in the street。 Mr Woodcourt
hesitated； but I said； “Don’t leave me now！” and Mr Bucket added；
“You’ll be better with us； we may want you； don’t lose time！”
I have the most confused impressions of that walk。 I recollect
that it was neither night nor day； that morning was dawning； but
the street lamps were not yet put out； that the sleet was still
falling； and that all the ways were deep with it。 I recollect a few
chilled people passing in the streets。 I recollect the wet housetops；
the clogged and bursting gutters and water…spouts； the mounds of
blackened ice and snow over which we passed； the narrowness of
the courts by which we went。 At the same time I remember that
the poor girl seemed to be yet telling her story audibly and plainly
in my hearing； that I could feel her resting on my arm； that the
stained house fronts put on human shapes and looked at me； that
great water gates seemed to be opening and closing in my head； or
in the air； and that the unreal things were more substantial than
the real。
At last we stood under a dark and miserable covered way；
where one lamp was burning over an iron gate； and where the
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morning faintly struggled in。 The gate was closed。 Beyond it； was a
burial…ground—a dreadful spot in which the night was very slowly
stirring； but where I could dimly see heaps of dishonoured graves
and stones； hemmed in by filthy houses； with a few dull lights in
their windows； and on whose walls a thick humidity broke out like
a disease。 On the step at the gate； drenched in the fearful wet of
such a place； which oozed and splashed down everywhere； I saw；
with a cry of pity and horror； a woman lying—Jenny； the mother of
the dead child。
I ran forward； but they stopped me； and Mr Woodcourt
entreated me with the greatest earnestness； even with tears；
before I went up to the figure； to listen for an instant to what Mr
Bucket said。 I did so； as I thought。 I did so； as I am sure。
“Miss Summerson； you’ll understand me； if you think a
moment。 They changed clothes at the cottage。”
They changed clothes at the cottage。 I could repeat the words in
my mind； and I knew what they meant of themselves； but I
attached no meaning to them in any other connection。
“And one returned；” said Mr Bucket； “and one went on。 And
the one that went on； only went on a certain way agreed upon to
deceive； and then turned across country； and went home。 Think a
moment！”
I could repeat this in my mind too； but I had not the least idea
what it meant。 I saw before me； lying on the step； the mother of
the dead child。 She lay there； with one arm creeping round a bar
of the iron gate； and seeming to embrace it。 She lay there； who had
so lately spoken to my mother。 She lay there； a distressed；
unsheltered； senseless creature。 She who had brought my
mother’s letter； who could give me the only clue to where my
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mother was； she who was to guide us to rescue and save her whom
we had sought so far； who had come to this condition by some
means connected with my mother that I could not follow； and
might be passing beyond our reach and help at that moment； she
lay there； and they stopped me！ I saw； but did not comprehend；
the solemn and compassionate look in Mr Woodcourt’s face。 I saw；
but did not comprehend； his touching the other on the breast to
keep him back。 I saw him stand uncovered in the bitter air； with a
reverence for something。 But my understanding for all this was
gone。
I even heard it said between them：
“Shall she go？”
“She had better go。 Her hands should be the first to touch her。
They have a higher right than ours。”
I passed on to the gate； and stooped down。 I lifted the heavy
head； put the long dank hair aside； and turned the face。 And it was
my mother； cold and dead。
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Chapter 60
Perspective
proceed to other passages of my narrative。 From the
goodness of all about me； I derived such consolation as I can
I
neve
