the holly-tree-第2章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



inclining；　and　many　remarks　from　one　bystander　to　another；　that　the

gentleman　could　go　for'ard　by　the　mail　to…morrow；　whereas　to…night

he　would　only　be　froze；　and　where　was　the　good　of　a　gentleman　being

frozeah；　let　alone　buried　alive　（which　latter　clause　was　added　by

a　humorous　helper　as　a　joke　at　my　expense；　and　was　extremely　well

received）；　I　saw　my　portmanteau　got　out　stiff；　like　a　frozen　body；

did　the　handsome　thing　by　the　guard　and　coachman；　wished　them　good…

night　and　a　prosperous　journey；　and；　a　little　ashamed　of　myself；

after　all；　for　leaving　them　to　fight　it　out　alone；　followed　the

landlord；　landlady；　and　waiter　of　the　Holly…Tree　up…stairs。



I　thought　I　had　never　seen　such　a　large　room　as　that　into　which　they

showed　me。　　It　had　five　windows；　with　dark　red　curtains　that　would

have　absorbed　the　light　of　a　general　illumination；　and　there　were

complications　of　drapery　at　the　top　of　the　curtains；　that　went

wandering　about　the　wall　in　a　most　extraordinary　manner。　　I　asked

for　a　smaller　room；　and　they　told　me　there　was　no　smaller　room。



They　could　screen　me　in；　however；　the　landlord　said。　　They　brought　a

great　old　japanned　screen；　with　natives　（Japanese；　I　suppose）

engaged　in　a　variety　of　idiotic　pursuits　all　over　it；　and　left　me

roasting　whole　before　an　immense　fire。



My　bedroom　was　some　quarter　of　a　mile　off；　up　a　great　staircase　at

the　end　of　a　long　gallery；　and　nobody　knows　what　a　misery　this　is　to

a　bashful　man　who　would　rather　not　meet　people　on　the　stairs。　　It

was　the　grimmest　room　I　have　ever　had　the　nightmare　in；　and　all　the

furniture；　from　the　four　posts　of　the　bed　to　the　two　old　silver

candle…sticks；　was　tall；　high…shouldered；　and　spindle…waisted。

Below；　in　my　sitting…room；　if　I　looked　round　my　screen；　the　wind

rushed　at　me　like　a　mad　bull；　if　I　stuck　to　my　arm…chair；　the　fire

scorched　me　to　the　colour　of　a　new　brick。　　The　chimney…piece　was

very　high；　and　there　was　a　bad　glasswhat　I　may　call　a　wavy　glass

above　it；　which；　when　I　stood　up；　just　showed　me　my　anterior

phrenological　developments；and　these　never　look　well；　in　any

subject；　cut　short　off　at　the　eyebrow。　　If　I　stood　with　my　back　to

the　fire；　a　gloomy　vault　of　darkness　above　and　beyond　the　screen

insisted　on　being　looked　at；　and；　in　its　dim　remoteness；　the　drapery

of　the　ten　curtains　of　the　five　windows　went　twisting　and　creeping

about；　like　a　nest　of　gigantic　worms。



I　suppose　that　what　I　observe　in　myself　must　be　observed　by　some

other　men　of　similar　character　in　themselves；　therefore　I　am

emboldened　to　mention；　that；　when　I　travel；　I　never　arrive　at　a

place　but　I　immediately　want　to　go　away　from　it。　　Before　I　had

finished　my　supper　of　broiled　fowl　and　mulled　port；　I　had　impressed

upon　the　waiter　in　detail　my　arrangements　for　departure　in　the

morning。　　Breakfast　and　bill　at　eight。　　Fly　at　nine。　　Two　horses；

or；　if　needful；　even　four。



Tired　though　I　was；　the　night　appeared　about　a　week　long。　　In　cases

of　nightmare；　I　thought　of　Angela；　and　felt　more　depressed　than　ever

by　the　reflection　that　I　was　on　the　shortest　road　to　Gretna　Green。

What　had　I　to　do　with　Gretna　Green？　　I　was　not　going　that　way　to　the

Devil；　but　by　the　American　route；　I　remarked　in　my　bitterness。



In　the　morning　I　found　that　it　was　snowing　still；　that　it　had　snowed

all　night；　and　that　I　was　snowed　up。　　Nothing　could　get　out　of　that

spot　on　the　moor；　or　could　come　at　it；　until　the　road　had　been　cut

out　by　labourers　from　the　market…town。　　When　they　might　cut　their

way　to　the　Holly…Tree　nobody　could　tell　me。



It　was　now　Christmas…eve。　　I　should　have　had　a　dismal　Christmas…time

of　it　anywhere；　and　consequently　that　did　not　so　much　matter；　still；

being　snowed　up　was　like　dying　of　frost；　a　thing　I　had　not　bargained

for。　　I　felt　very　lonely。　　Yet　I　could　no　more　have　proposed　to　the

landlord　and　landlady　to　admit　me　to　their　society　（though　I　should

have　liked　itvery　much）　than　I　could　have　asked　them　to　present　me

with　a　piece　of　plate。　　Here　my　great　secret；　the　real　bashfulness

of　my　character；　is　to　be　observed。　　Like　most　bashful　men；　I　judge

of　other　people　as　if　they　were　bashful　too。　　Besides　being　far　too

shamefaced　to　make　the　proposal　myself；　I　really　had　a　delicate

misgiving　that　it　would　be　in　the　last　degree　disconcerting　to　them。



Trying　to　settle　down；　therefore；　in　my　solitude；　I　first　of　all

asked　what　books　there　were　in　the　house。　　The　waiter　brought　me　a

Book　of　Roads；　two　or　three　old　Newspapers；　a　little　Song…Book；

terminating　in　a　collection　of　Toasts　and　Sentiments；　a　little　Jest…

Book；　an　odd　volume　of　Peregrine　Pickle；　and　the　Sentimental

Journey。　　I　knew　every　word　of　the　two　last　already；　but　I　read　them

through　again；　then　tried　to　hum　all　the　songs　（Auld　Lang　Syne　was

among　them）；　went　entirely　through　the　jokes；in　which　I　found　a

fund　of　melancholy　adapted　to　my　state　of　mind；　proposed　all　the

toasts；　enunciated　all　the　sentiments；　and　mastered　the　papers。　　The

latter　had　nothing　in　them　but　stock　advertisements；　a　meeting　about

a　county　rate；　and　a　highway　robbery。　　As　I　am　a　greedy　reader；　I

could　not　make　this　supply　hold　out　until　night；　it　was　exhausted　by

tea…time。　　Being　then　entirely　cast　upon　my　own　resources；　I　got

through　an　hour　in　considering　what　to　do　next。　　Ultimately；　it　came

into　my　head　（from　which　I　was　anxious　by　any　means　to　exclude

Angela　and　Edwin）；　that　I　would　endeavour　to　recall　my　experience　of

Inns；　and　would　try　how　long　it　lasted　me。　　I　stirred　the　fire；

moved　my　chair　a　little　to　one　side　of　the　screen；not　daring　to　go

far；　for　I　knew　the　wind　was　waiting　to　make　a　rush　at　me；　I　could

hear　it　growling；and　began。



My　first　impressions　of　an　Inn　dated　from　the　Nursery；　consequently

I　went　back　to　the　Nursery　for　a　starting…point；　and　found　myself　at

the　knee　of　a　sallow　woman　with　a　fishy　eye；　an　aquiline　nose；　and　a

green　gown；　whose　specially　was　a　dismal　narrative　of　a　landlord　by

the　roadside；　whose　visitors　unaccountably　disappeared　for　many

years；　until　it　was　discovered　that　the　pursuit　of　his　life　had　been

to　convert　them　into　pies。　　For　the　better　devotion　of　himself　to

this　branch　of　industry；　he　had　constructed　a　secret　door　behind　the

head　of　the　bed；　and　when　the　visitor　（oppressed　with　pie）　had

fallen　asleep；　this　wicked　landlord　would　look　softly　in　with　a　lamp

in　one　hand　and　a　knife　in　the　other；　would　cut　his　throat；　and

would　make　him　into　pies；　for　which　purpose　he　had　coppers；

underneath　a　trap…door；　always　boiling；　and　rolled　out　his　pastry　in

the　dead　of　the　night。　　Yet　even　he　was　not　insensible　to　the　stings

of　conscience；　for　he　never　went　to　sleep　without　being　heard　to

mutter；　〃Too　much　pepper！〃　which　was　eventually　the　cause　of　his

being　brought　to　justice。　　I　had　no　sooner　disposed　of　this　criminal

than　there　started　up　another　of　the　same　period；　whose　profession

was　originally　house…breaking；　in　the　pursuit　of　which　art　he　had

had　his　right　ear　chopped　off　one　night；　as　he　was　burglariously

getting　in　at　a　window；　by　a　brave　and　lovely　servant…maid　（whom　the

aquiline…nosed　woman；　though　not　at　all　answering　the　description；

always　mysteriously　implied　to　be　herself）。　　After　several　years；

this　brave　and　lovely　servant…maid　was　married　to　the　landlord　of　a

country　Inn；　which　landlord　had　this　remarkable　characteristic；　that

he　always　wore　a　silk　nightcap；　and　never　would　on　any　consideration

take　it　off。　　At　last；　one　night；　when　he　was　fast　asleep；　the　brave

and　lovely　woman　lifted　up　his　silk　nightcap　on　the　right　side；　and

found　that　he　had　no　ear　there；　upon　which　she　sagaciously　perceived

that　he　was　the　clipped　housebreaker；　who　had　married　her　with　the

intention　of　putting　her　to　death。　　She　immediately　heated　the　poker

and　terminated　his　career；　for　which　she　was　taken　to　King　George

upon　his　throne；　and　received　the　compliments　of　royalty　on　her

great　discretion　and　valour。　　This　same　narrator；　who　had　a　Ghoulish

pleasure；　I　have　long　been　persuaded；　in　terrifying　me　to　the　utmost

confines　of　my　reason；　had　another　authentic　anecdote　within　her　own

experience；　founded；　I　now　believe；　upon　Raymond　and　Agnes；　or　the

Bleeding　Nun。　　She　said　it　happened　to　her　brother…in…law；　who　was

immensely　rich；which　my　father　was　not；　and　immensely　tall；which

my　father　was　not。　　It　was　always　a　point　with　this　Ghoul　to　present

my　clearest　relations　and　friends　to　my　youthful　mind　under

circumstances　of　disparaging　contrast。　　The　brother…in…law　was

riding　once　through　a　forest　on　a　magnificent　horse　（we　had　no

magnificent　horse　at　our　house）；　attended　by　a　favourite　and

valuable　Newfoundland　dog　（we　had　no　dog）；　when　he　found　himself

benighted；　and　came　to　an　Inn。　　A　dark　woman　opened　the　door；　and　he

asked　her　if　he　could　have　a　bed　there。　　She　answered　yes；　and　put

his　horse　in　the　stable；　and　took　him　into　a　room　where　there　were

two　dark　men。　　While　he　was　at　supper；　a　parrot　in　the　room　began　to

talk；　saying；　〃Blood；　blood！　　Wipe　up　the　blood！〃　　Upon　which　one　of

the　dark　men　wrung　the　parrot's　neck；　and　said　he　was　fond　of

roasted　parrots；　and　he　meant　to　have　this　one　for　breakfast　in　the

morning。　　After　eating　and　drinking　heartily；　the　immensely　rich；

tall　brother…in…law　went　up　to　bed；　but　he　was　rather　vexed；　because

they　had　shut　his　dog　in　the　stable；　saying　that　they　never　allowed

dogs　in　the　house。　　He　sat　very　quiet　for　more　than　an　hour；

thinking　and　thinking；　when；　just　as　his　candle　was　burning　out；　he

heard　a　scratch　at　the　door。　　He　opened　the　door；　and　there　was　the

Newfoundland　dog！　　The　dog　came　softly　in；　smelt　about　him；　went

straight　to　some　straw　in　the　corner　which　the　dark　men　had　said

covered　apples；　tore　the　straw　away；　and　disclosed　two　sheets

steeped　in　blood。　　Just　at　that　moment　the　candle　went　out；　and　the

brother…in…law；　looking　through　a　chink　in　the　door；　saw　the　two

dark　men　stealing　up…stairs；　one　armed　with　a　dagger　that　long

（about　five　feet）；　the　other　carrying　a　chopper；　a　sack；　and　a

spade。　　Having　no　remembrance　of　the　close　of　this　adventure；　I

suppose　my　faculties　to　have　been　always　so　frozen　with　terror　at

this　stage　of　it；　that　the　power　of　listening　stagnated　within　me

for　some　quarter　of　an　hour。



These　barbarous　stories　carried　me；　sitting　there　on　the　Holly…Tree

hearth；　to　the　Roadside　Inn；　renowned　in　my　time　in　a　sixpenny　book

with　a　folding　plate；　representing　in　a　central　compartment　of　oval

form　the　portrait　of　Jonathan　Bradford；　and　in　four　corner

compartments　four　incidents　of　the　tragedy　with　which　the　name　is

associated；coloured　with　a　hand　at　once　so　free　and　economical；

that　the　bloom　of　Jonathan's　complexion　passed　without　any　pause

into　the　breeches　of　the　ostler；　and；　smearing　itself　off　into　the

next　division；　became　rum　in　a　bottle。　　Then　I　remembered　how　the

landlord　was　found　at　the　murdered　traveller's　bedside；　with　his　own

knife　at　hi