barnaby rudge(巴纳比·卢杰)-第8章
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the lantern together。
‘You have found that out at last； have you？’ rejoined the old
man。 ‘My eyes have seen more light than yours； but I wouldn’t
change with you。’
‘What do you mean？’
‘Mean！ I could have told you he wasn’t hurt； five minutes ago。
Give me the light； friend； ride forward at a gentler pace； and good
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night。’
In handing up the lantern； the man necessarily cast its rays full
on the speaker’s face。 Their eyes met at the instant。 He suddenly
dropped it and crushed it with his foot。
‘Did you never see a locksmith before； that you start as if you
had come upon a ghost？’ cried the old man in the chaise； ‘or is
this；’ he added hastily； thrusting his hand into the tool basket and
drawing out a hammer； ‘a scheme for robbing me？ I know these
roads； friend。 When I travel them； I carry nothing but a few
shillings； and not a crown’s worth of them。 I tell you plainly； to
save us both trouble； that there’s nothing to be got from me but a
pretty stout arm considering my years； and this tool； which；
mayhap from long acquaintance with； I can use pretty briskly。 You
shall not have it all your own way； I promise you； if you play at that
game。 With these words he stood upon the defensive。
‘I am not what you take me for； Gabriel Varden；’ replied the
other。
‘Then what and who are you？’ returned the locksmith。 ‘You
know my name； it seems。 Let me know yours。’
‘I have not gained the information from any confidence of
yours； but from the inscription on your cart which tells it to all the
town；’ replied the traveller。
‘You have better eyes for that than you had for your horse；
then；’ said Varden； descending nimbly from his chaise； ‘who are
you？ Let me see your face。’
While the locksmith alighted； the traveller had regained his
saddle； from which he now confronted the old man； who； moving
as the horse moved in chafing under the tightened rein； kept close
beside him。
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‘Let me see your face； I say。’
‘Stand off！’
‘No masquerading tricks；’ said the locksmith； ‘and tales at the
club to…morrow； how Gabriel Varden was frightened by a surly
voice and a dark night。 Stand—let me see your face。’
Finding that further resistance would only involve him in a
personal struggle with an antagonist by no means to be despised；
the traveller threw back his coat； and stooping down looked
steadily at the locksmith。
Perhaps two men more powerfully contrasted； never opposed
each other face to face。 The ruddy features of the locksmith so set
off and heightened the excessive paleness of the man on
horseback； that he looked like a bloodless ghost； while the
moisture； which hard riding had brought out upon his skin； hung
there in dark and heavy drops； like dews of agony and death。 The
countenance of the old locksmith lighted up with the smile of one
expecting to detect in this unpromising stranger some latent
roguery of eye or lip； which should reveal a familiar person in that
arch disguise； and spoil his jest。 The face of the other； sullen and
fierce； but shrinking too； was that of a man who stood at bay； while
his firmly closed jaws； his puckered mouth； and more than all a
certain stealthy motion of the hand within his breast； seemed to
announce a desperate purpose very foreign to acting； or child’s
play。
Thus they regarded each other for some time； in silence。
‘Humph！’ he said when he had scanned his features； ‘I don’t
know you。’
‘Don’t desire to？’—returned the other； muffling himself as
before。
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‘I don’t；’ said Gabriel； ‘to be plain with you； friend； you don’t
carry in your countenance a letter of recommendation。’
‘It’s not my wish；’ said the traveller。 ‘My humour is to be
avoided。’
‘Well；’ said the locksmith bluntly； ‘I think you’ll have your
humour。’
‘I will； at any cost；’ rejoined the traveller。 ‘In proof of it； lay this
to heart—that you were never in such peril of your life as you have
been within these few moments； when you are within five minutes
of breathing your last； you will not be nearer death than you have
been to…night！’
‘Aye！’ said the sturdy locksmith。
‘Aye！ and a violent death。’
‘From whose hand？’
‘From mine；’ replied the traveller。
With that he put spurs to his horse； and rode away； at first
plashing heavily through the mire at a smart trot； but gradually
increasing in speed until the last sound of his horse’s hoofs died
away upon the wind； when he was again hurrying on at the same
furious gallop； which had been his pace when the locksmith first
encountered him。
Gabriel Varden remained standing in the road with the broken
lantern in his hand； listening in stupefied silence until no sound
reached his ear but the moaning of the wind； and the fast…falling
rain； when he struck himself one or two smart blows in the breast
by way of rousing himself； and broke into an exclamation of
surprise。
‘What in the name of wonder can this fellow be！ a madman？ a
highwayman？ a cut…throat？ If he had not scoured off so fast； we’d
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have seen who was in most danger； he or I。 I never nearer death
than I have been to…night！ I hope I may be no nearer to it for a
score of years to come—if so； I’ll be content to be no farther from
it。 My stars！—a pretty brag this to a stout man—pooh； pooh！’
Gabriel resumed his seat； and looked wistfully up the road by
which the traveller had come； murmuring in a half whisper：
‘The Maypole—two miles to the Maypole。 I came the other road
from the Warren after a long day’s work at locks and bells； on
purpose that I should not come by the Maypole and break my
promise to Martha by looking in—there’s resolution！ It would be
dangerous to go on to London without a light； and it’s four miles；
and a good half mile besides； to the Halfway…House； and between
this and that is the very place where one needs a light most。 Two
miles to the Maypole！ I told Martha I wouldn’t； I said I wouldn’t；
and I didn’t—there’s resolution！’
Repeating these two last words very often； as if to compensate
for the little resolution he was going to show by piquing himself on
the great resolution he had shown； Gabriel Varden quietly turned
back； determining to get a light at the Maypole； and to take
nothing but a light。
When he got to the Maypole； however； and Joe； responding to
his well…known hail； came running out to the horse’s head； leaving
the door open behind him； and disclosing a delicious perspective
of warmth and brightness—when the ruddy gleam of the fire；
streaming through the old red curtains of the common room；
seemed to bring with it； as part of itself； a pleasant hum of voices；
and a fragrant odour of steaming grog and rare tobacco； all
steeped as it were in the cheerful glow—when the shadows； flitting
across the curtain； showed that those inside had risen from their
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snug seats； and were making room in the snuggest corner （how
well he knew that corner！） for the honest locksmith； and a broad
glare； suddenly streaming up； bespoke the goodness of the
crackling log from which a brilliant train of sparks was doubtless
at that moment whirling up the chimney in honour of his
coming—when； superadded to these enticements； there stole upon
him from the distant kitchen a gentle sound of frying； with a
musical clatter of plates and dishes； and a savoury smell that made
even the boisterous wind a perfume—Gabriel felt his firmness
oozing rapidly away。 He tried to look stoically at the tavern； but his
features would relax into a look of fondness。 He turned his head
the other way； and the cold black country seemed to frown him off；
and drive him for a refuge into its hospitable arms。
‘The merciful man； Joe；’ said the locksmith； ‘is merciful to his
beast。 I’ll get out for a little while。’
And how natural it was to get out！ And how unnatural it
seemed for a sober man to be plodding wearily along through miry
roads； encountering the rude buffets of the wind and pelting of the
rain； when there was a clean floor covered with crisp white sand； a
well swept hearth； a blazing fire； a table decorated with white
cloth； bright pewter flagons； and other tempting preparations for a
well…cooked meal—when there were these things； and company
disposed to make the most of them； all ready to his hand； and
entreating him to enjoyment！
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