barnaby rudge(巴纳比·卢杰)-第98章
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gone； that she re…entered the cottage； and hurriedly barred the
door and window。
‘Mother！’ said Barnaby。 ‘What is the matter？ Where is the blind
man？’
‘He is gone。’
‘Gone！’ he cried； starting up。 ‘I must have more talk with him。
Which way did he take？’
‘I don’t know；’ she answered； folding her arms about him。 ‘You
must not go out to…night。 There are ghosts and dreams abroad。’
‘Ay？’ said Barnaby； in a frightened whisper。
‘It is not safe to stir。 We must leave this place to…morrow。’
‘This place！ This cottage—and the little garden； mother！’
‘Yes！ To…morrow morning at sunrise。 We must travel to
London； lose ourselves in that wide place—there would be some
trace of us in any other town—then travel on again； and find some
new abode。’
Little persuasion was required to reconcile Barnaby to
anything that promised change。 In another minute； he was wild
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with delight； in another； full of grief at the prospect of parting with
his friends the dogs； in another； wild again； then he was fearful of
what she had said to prevent his wandering abroad that night； and
full of terrors and strange questions。 His light…heartedness in the
end surmounted all his other feelings； and lying down in his
clothes to the end that he might be ready on the morrow； he soon
fell fast asleep before the poor turf fire。
His mother did not close her eyes； but sat beside him； watching。
Every breath of wind sounded in her ears like that dreaded
footstep at the door； or like that hand upon the latch； and made
the calm summer night； a night of horror。 At length the welcome
day appeared。 When she had made the little preparations which
were needful for their journey； and had prayed upon her knees
with many tears； she roused Barnaby； who jumped up gaily at her
summons。
His clothes were few enough； and to carry Grip was a labour of
love。 As the sun shed his earliest beams upon the earth； they
closed the door of their deserted home； and turned away。 The sky
was blue and bright。 The air was fresh and filled with a thousand
perfumes。 Barnaby looked upward； and laughed with all his heart。
But it was a day he usually devoted to a long ramble； and one of
the dogs—the ugliest of them all—came bounding up； and
jumping round him in the fulness of his joy。 He had to bid him go
back in a surly tone； and his heart smote him while he did so。 The
dog retreated； turned with a half…incredulous； half…imploring look；
came a little back； and stopped。
It was the last appeal of an old companion and a faithful
friend—cast off。 Barnaby could bear no more； and as he shook his
head and waved his playmate home； he burst into tears。
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‘Oh mother； mother； how mournful he will be when he
scratches at the door； and finds it always shut！’
There was such a sense of home in the thought； that though her
own eyes overflowed she would not have obliterated the
recollection of it； either from her own mind or from his； for the
wealth of the whole wide world。
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Chapter 47
n the exhaustless catalogue of Heaven’s mercies to mankind；
the power we have of finding some germs of comfort in the
I
hardest trials must ever occupy the foremost place； not only
because it supports and upholds us when we most require to be
sustained； but because in this source of consolation there is
something； we have reason to believe； of the divine spirit；
something of that goodness which detects amidst our own evil
doings； a redeeming quality； something which； even in our fallen
nature； we possess in common with the angels； which had its
being in the old time when they trod the earth； and lingers on it
yet； in pity。
How often； on their journey； did the widow remember with a
grateful heart； that out of his deprivation Barnaby’s cheerfulness
and affection sprung！ How often did she call to mind that but for
that； he might have been sullen； morose； unkind； far removed from
her—vicious； perhaps； and cruel！ How often had she cause for
comfort； in his strength； and hope； and in his simple nature！ Those
feeble powers of mind which rendered him so soon forgetful of the
past； save in brief gleams and flashes；—even they were a comfort
now。 The world to him was full of happiness； in every tree； and
plant； and flower； in every bird； and beast； and tiny insect whom a
breath of summer wind laid low upon the ground； he had delight。
His delight was hers； and where many a wise son would have
made her sorrowful； this poor light…hearted idiot filled her breast
with thankfulness and love。
Their stock of money was low； but from the hoard she had told
into the blind man’s hand； the widow had withheld one guinea。
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This； with the few pence she possessed besides； was to two
persons of their frugal habits； a goodly sum in bank。 Moreover
they had Grip in company； and when they must otherwise have
changed the guinea； it was but to make him exhibit outside an
alehouse door； or in a village street； or in the grounds or gardens
of a mansion of the better sort； and scores who would have given
nothing in charity； were ready to bargain for more amusement
from the talking bird。
One day—for they moved slowly； and although they had many
rides in carts and waggons； were on the road a week—Barnaby；
with Grip upon his shoulder and his mother following； begged
permission at a trim lodge to go up to the great house； at the other
end of the avenue； and show his raven。 The man within was
inclined to give them admittance； and was indeed about to do so；
when a stout gentleman with a long whip in his hand； and a
flushed face which seemed to indicate that he had had his
morning’s draught； rode up to the gate； and called in a loud voice
and with more oaths than the occasion seemed to warrant to have
it opened directly。
‘Who hast thou got here？’ said the gentleman angrily； as the
man threw the gate wide open； and pulled off his hat； ‘who are
these？ Eh？ art a beggar； woman？’
The widow answered with a curtsey； that they were poor
travellers。
‘Vagrants；’ said the gentleman； ‘vagrants and vagabonds。 Thee
wish to be made acquainted with the cage； dost thee—the cage；
the stocks； and the whipping…post？ Where dost come from？’
She told him in a timid manner；—for he was very loud； hoarse；
and red…faced；—and besought him not to be angry； for they meant
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no harm； and would go upon their way that moment。
‘Don’t he too sure of that；’ replied the gentleman； ‘we don’t
allow vagrants to roam about this place。 I know what thou
want’st—…stray linen drying on hedges； and stray poultry； eh？
What hast got in that basket； lazy hound？’
‘Grip； Grip； Grip—Grip the clever； Grip the wicked； Grip the
knowing—Grip； Grip； Grip；’ cried the raven； whom Barnaby had
shut up on the approach of this stern personage。 ‘I’m a devil I’m a
devil I’m a devil； Never say die Hurrah Bow wow wow； Polly put
the kettle on we’ll all have tea。’
‘Take the vermin out； scoundrel；’ said the gentleman； ‘and let
me see him。’
Barnaby； thus condescendingly addressed； produced his bird；
but not without much fear and trembling； and set him down upon
the ground； which he had no sooner done than Grip drew fifty
corks at least； and then began to dance； at the same time eyeing
the gentleman with surprising insolence of manner； and screwing
his head so much on one side that he appeared desirous of
screwing it off upon the spot。
The cork…drawing seemed to make a greater impression on the
gentleman’s mind； than the raven’s power of speech； and was
indeed particularly adapted to his habits and capacity。 He desired
to have that done again； but despite his being very peremptory；
and notwithstanding that Barnaby coaxed to the utmost； Grip
turned a deaf ear to the request； and preserved a dead silence。
‘Bring him along；’ said the gentleman； pointing to the house。
But Grip； who had watched the action； anticipated his master； by
hopping on before them；—constantly flapping his wings； and
screaming ‘cook！’ meanwhile； as a hint perhaps that there was
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company coming； and a small collation would be acceptable。
Barnaby and his mother walked on； on either side of the
gentleman on horseback； w
