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第40节

lay morals-第40节

小说: lay morals 字数: 每页4000字

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ssage and  doorstep had been strewn with guinea…pieces。  At this old  Jonathan looked at Mr。 Archer。  Next the visitor turned to  news of a more thrilling character: how the down mail had  been stopped again near Grantham by three men on horseback …  a white and two bays; how they had handkerchiefs on their  faces; how Tom the guard's blunderbuss missed fire; but he  swore he had winged one of them with a pistol; and how they  had got clean away with seventy pounds in money; some  valuable papers; and a watch or two。

'Brave! brave!' cried Jonathan in ecstasy。  'Seventy pounds!   O; it's brave!'

'Well; I don't see the great bravery;' observed the ostler;  misapprehending him。  'Three men; and you may call that three  to one。  I'll call it brave when some one stops the mail  single…handed; that's a risk。'

'And why should they hesitate?' inquired Mr。 Archer。  'The  poor souls who are fallen to such a way of life; pray what  have they to lose?  If they get the money; well; but if a  ball should put them from their troubles; why; so better。'

'Well; sir;' said the ostler; 'I believe you'll find they  won't agree with you。  They count on a good fling; you see;  or who would risk it? … And here's my best respects to you;  Miss Nance。'

'And I forgot the part of cowardice;' resumed Mr。 Archer。   'All men fear。'

'O; surely not!' cried Nance。

'All men;' reiterated Mr。 Archer。

'Ay; that's a true word;' observed Old Cumberland; 'and a  thief; anyway; for it's a coward's trade。'

'But these fellows; now;' said Jonathan; with a curious;  appealing manner … 'these fellows with their seventy pounds!   Perhaps; Mr。 Archer; they were no true thieves after all; but  just people who had been robbed and tried to get their own  again。  What was that you said; about all England and the  taxes?  One takes; another gives; why; that's almost fair。   If I've been rooked and robbed; and the coat taken off my  back; I call it almost fair to take another's。'

'Ask Old Cumberland;' observed the ostler; 'you ask Old  Cumberland; Miss Nance!' and he bestowed a wink upon his  favoured fair one。

'Why that?' asked Jonathan。

'He had his coat taken … ay; and his shirt too;' returned the  ostler。

'Is that so?' cried Jonathan eagerly。  'Was you robbed too?'

'That was I;' replied Cumberland; 'with a warrant!  I was a  well…to…do man when I was young。'

'Ay!  See that!' says Jonathan。  'And you don't long for a  revenge?'

'Eh!  Not me!' answered the beggar。  'It's too long ago。  But  if you'll give me another mug of your good ale; my pretty  lady; I won't say no to that。'

'And shalt have!  And shalt have!' cried Jonathan。  'Or  brandy even; if you like it better。'

And as Cumberland did like it better; and the ostler chimed  in; the party pledged each other in a dram of brandy before  separating。

As for Nance; she slipped forth into the ruins; partly to  avoid the ostler's gallantries; partly to lament over the  defects of Mr。 Archer。  Plainly; he was no hero。  She pitied  him; she began to feel a protecting interest mingle with and  almost supersede her admiration; and was at the same time  disappointed and yet drawn to him。  She was; indeed;  conscious of such unshaken fortitude in her own heart; that  she was almost tempted by an occasion to be bold for two。   She saw herself; in a brave attitude; shielding her imperfect  hero from the world; and she saw; like a piece of heaven; his  gratitude for her protection。



THE GREAT NORTH ROAD CHAPTER V … LIFE IN THE CASTLE



FROM that day forth the life of these three persons in the  ruin ran very smoothly。  Mr。 Archer now sat by the fire with  a book; and now passed whole days abroad; returning late;  dead weary。  His manner was a mask; but it was half  transparent; through the even tenor of his gravity and  courtesy profound revolutions of feeling were betrayed;  seasons of numb despair; of restlessness; of aching temper。   For days he would say nothing beyond his usual courtesies and  solemn compliments; and then; all of a sudden; some fine  evening beside the kitchen fire; he would fall into a vein of  elegant gossip; tell of strange and interesting events; the  secrets of families; brave deeds of war; the miraculous  discovery of crime; the visitations of the dead。  Nance and  her uncle would sit till the small hours with eyes wide open:  Jonathan applauding the unexpected incidents with many a slap  of his big hand; Nance; perhaps; more pleased with the  narrator's eloquence and wise reflections; and then; again;  days would follow of abstraction; of listless humming; of  frequent apologies and long hours of silence。  Once only; and  then after a week of unrelieved melancholy; he went over to  the 'Green Dragon;' spent the afternoon with the landlord and  a bowl of punch; and returned as on the first night; devious  in step but courteous and unperturbed of speech。

If he seemed more natural and more at his ease it was when he  found Nance alone; and; laying by some of his reserve; talked  before her rather than to her of his destiny; character and  hopes。  To Nance these interviews were but a doubtful  privilege。  At times he would seem to take a pleasure in her  presence; to consult her gravely; to hear and to discuss her  counsels; at times even; but these were rare and brief; he  would talk of herself; praise the qualities that she  possessed; touch indulgently on her defects; and lend her  books to read and even examine her upon her reading; but far  more often he would fall into a half unconsciousness; put her  a question and then answer it himself; drop into the veiled  tone of voice of one soliloquising; and leave her at last as  though he had forgotten her existence。  It was odd; too; that  in all this random converse; not a fact of his past life; and  scarce a name; should ever cross his lips。  A profound  reserve kept watch upon his most unguarded moments。  He spoke  continually of himself; indeed; but still in enigmas; a  veiled prophet of egoism。

The base of Nance's feelings for Mr。 Archer was admiration as  for a superior being; and with this; his treatment;  consciously or not; accorded happily。  When he forgot her;  she took the blame upon herself。  His formal politeness was  so exquisite that this essential brutality stood excused。   His compliments; besides; were always grave and rational; he  would offer reason for his praise; convict her of merit; and  thus disarm suspicion。  Nay; and the very hours when he  forgot and remembered her alternately could by the ardent  fallacies of youth be read in the light of an attention。  She  might be far from his confidence; but still she was nearer it  than any one。  He might ignore her presence; but yet he  sought it。

Moreover; she; upon her side; was conscious of one point of  superiority。  Beside this rather dismal; rather effeminate  man; who recoiled from a worm; who grew giddy on the castle  wall; who bore so helplessly the weight of his misfortunes;  she felt herself a head and shoulders taller in cheerful and  sterling courage。  She could walk head in air along the most  precarious rafter; her hand feared neither the grossness nor  the harshness of life's web; but was thrust cheerfully; if  need were; into the briar bush; and could take hold of any  crawling horror。  Ruin was mining the walls of her cottage;  as already it had mined and subverted Mr。 Archer's palace。   Well; she faced it with a bright countenance and a busy hand。   She had got some washing; some rough seamstress work from the  'Green Dragon;' and from another neighbour ten miles away  across the moor。  At this she cheerfully laboured; and from  that height she could afford to pity the useless talents and  poor attitude of Mr。 Archer。  It did not change her  admiration; but it made it bearable。  He was above her in all  ways; but she was above him in one。  She kept it to herself;  and hugged it。  When; like all young creatures; she made long  stories to justify; to nourish; and to forecast the course of  her affection; it was this private superiority that made all  rosy; that cut the knot; and that; at last; in some great  situation; fetched to her knees the dazzling but imperfect  hero。  With this pretty exercise she beguiled the hours of  labour; and consoled herself for Mr。 Archer's bearing。

Pity was her weapon and her weakness。  To accept the loved  one's faults; although it has an air of freedom; is to kiss  the chain; and this pity it was which; lying nearer to her  heart; lent the one element of true emotion to a fanciful and  merely brain…sick love。

Thus it fell out one day that she had gone to the 'Green  Dragon' and brought back thence a letter to Mr。 Archer。  He;  upon seeing it; winced like a man under the knife: pain;  shame; sorrow; and the most trenchant edge of mortification  cut into his heart and wrung the steady composure of his  face。

'Dear heart! have you bad news?' she cried。

But he only replied by a gesture and fled to his room; and  when; later on; she ventured to refer to it; he stopped her  on the threshold; as if with words prepared beforehand。   'There are some pains;' said he; 'too acute for consolation;  or I would bring them to my kind consoler。  Let the memory of  that letter; if you ple

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