barnaby rudge(巴纳比·卢杰)-第5节
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cadaverous hue; and he had a grizzly jagged beard of some three
weeks’ date。 Such was the figure (very meanly and poorly clad)
that now rose from the seat; and stalking across the room sat down
in a corner of the chimney; which the politeness or fears of the
little clerk very readily assigned to him。
‘A highwayman!’ whispered Tom Cobb to Parkes the ranger。
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‘Do you suppose highwaymen don’t dress handsomer than
that?’ replied Parkes。 ‘It’s a better business than you think for;
Tom; and highwaymen don’t need or use to be shabby; take my
word for it。’
Meanwhile the subject of their speculations had done due
honour to the house by calling for some drink; which was
promptly supplied by the landlord’s son Joe; a broad…shouldered
strapping young fellow of twenty; whom it pleased his father still
to consider a little boy; and to treat accordingly。 Stretching out his
hands to warm them by the blazing fire; the man turned his head
towards the company; and after running his eye sharply over
them; said in a voice well suited to his appearance:
‘What house is that which stands a mile or so from here?’
‘Public…house?’ said the landlord; with his usual deliberation。
‘Public…house; father!’ exclaimed Joe; ‘where’s the public…house
within a mile or so of the Maypole? He means the great house—
the Warren—naturally and of course。 The old red brick house; sir;
that stands in its own grounds—?’
‘Aye;’ said the stranger。
‘And that fifteen or twenty years ago stood in a park five times
as broad; which with other and richer property has bit by bit
changed hands and dwindled away—more’s the pity!’ pursued the
young man。
‘Maybe;’ was the reply。 ‘But my question related to the owner。
What it has been I don’t care to know; and what it is I can see for
myself。’
The heir…apparent to the Maypole pressed his finger on his lips;
and glancing at the young gentleman already noticed; who had
changed his attitude when the house was first mentioned; replied
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in a lower tone:
‘The owner’s name is Haredale; Mr Geoffrey Haredale; and’—
again he glanced in the same direction as before—‘and a worthy
gentleman too—hem!’
Paying as little regard to this admonitory cough; as to the
significant gesture that had preceded it; the stranger pursued his
questioning。
‘I turned out of my way coming here; and took the footpath that
crosses the grounds。 Who was the young lady that I saw entering a
carriage? His daughter?’
‘Why; how should I know; honest man?’ replied Joe; contriving
in the course of some arrangements about the hearth; to advance
close to his questioner and pluck him by the sleeve; ‘I didn’t see
the young lady; you know。 Whew! There’s the wind again—and
rain—well it is a night!’
Rough weather indeed!’ observed the strange man。
‘You’re used to it?’ said Joe; catching at anything which seemed
to promise a diversion of the subject。
‘Pretty well;’ returned the other。 ‘About the young lady—has Mr
Haredale a daughter?’
‘No; no;’ said the young fellow fretfully; ‘he’s a single
gentleman—he’s—be quiet; can’t you; man? Don’t you see this talk
is not relished yonder?’
Regardless of this whispered remonstrance; and affecting not to
hear it; his tormentor provokingly continued:
‘Single men have had daughters before now。 Perhaps she may
be his daughter; though he is not married。’
‘What do you mean?’ said Joe; adding in an undertone as he
approached him again; ‘You’ll come in for it presently; I know you
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will!’
‘I mean no harm’—returned the traveller boldly; ‘and have said
none that I know of。 I ask a few questions—as any stranger may;
and not unnaturally—about the inmates of a remarkable house in
a neighbourhood which is new to me; and you are as aghast and
disturbed as if I were talking treason against King George。
Perhaps you can tell me why; sir; for (as I say) I am a stranger; and
this is Greek to me?’
The latter observation was addressed to the obvious cause of
Joe Willet’s discomposure; who had risen and was adjusting his
riding…cloak preparatory to sallying abroad。 Briefly replying that
he could give him no information; the young man beckoned to Joe;
and handing him a piece of money in payment of his reckoning;
hurried out attended by young Willet himself; who taking up a
candle followed to light him to the house…door。
While Joe was absent on this errand; the elder Willet and his
three companions continued to smoke with profound gravity; and
in a deep silence; each having his eyes fixed on a huge copper
boiler that was suspended over the fire。 After some time John
Willet slowly shook his head; and thereupon his friends slowly
shook theirs; but no man withdrew his eyes from the boiler; or
altered the solemn expression of his countenance in the slightest
degree。
At length Joe returned—very talkative and conciliatory; as
though with a strong presentiment that he was going to be found
fault with。
‘Such a thing as love is!’ he said; drawing a chair near the fire;
and looking round for sympathy。 ‘He has set off to walk to
London;—all the way to London。 His nag gone lame in riding out
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here this blessed afternoon; and comfortably littered down in our
stable at this minute; and he giving up a good hot supper and our
best bed; because Miss Haredale has gone to a masquerade up in
town; and he has set his heart upon seeing her! I don’t think I
could persuade myself to do that; beautiful as she is;—but then I’m
not in love (at least I don’t think I am) and that’s the whole
difference。’
‘He is in love then?’ said the stranger。
‘Rather;’ replied Joe。 ‘He’ll never be more in love; and may very
easily be less。’
‘Silence; sir!’ cried his father。
‘What a chap you are; Joe!’ said Long Parkes。
‘Such a inconsiderate lad!’ murmured Tom Cobb。
‘Putting himself forward and wringing the very nose off his own
father’s face!’ exclaimed the parish…clerk; metaphorically。
‘What have I done?’ reasoned poor Joe。
‘Silence; sir!’ returned his father; ‘what do you mean by talking;
when you see people that are more than two or three times your
age; sitting still and silent and not dreaming of saying a word?’
‘Why that’s the proper time for me to talk; isn’t it?’ said Joe
rebelliously。
‘The proper time; sir!’ retorted his father; ‘the proper time’s no
time。’
‘Ah to be sure!’ muttered Parkes; nodding gravely to the other
two who nodded likewise; observing under their breaths that that
was the point。
‘The proper time’s no time; sir;’ repeated John Willet; ‘when I
was your age I never talked; I never wanted to talk。 I listened and
improved myself that’s what I did。’
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‘And you’d find your father rather a tough customer in
argeyment; Joe; if anybody was to try and tackle him;’ said Parkes。
‘For the matter o’ that; Phil!’ observed Mr Willet; blowing a
long; thin; spiral cloud of