desperate remedies-第23章

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romantic　and　genial　experience　of　stage…coach　travelling　as　any
halting…place　in　the　country。　　The　railway　had　absorbed　the　whole
stream　of　traffic　which　formerly　flowed　through　the　village　and
along　by　the　ancient　door　of　the　inn；　reducing　the　empty…handed
landlord；　who　used　only　to　farm　a　few　fields　at　the　back　of　the
house；　to　the　necessity　of　eking　out　his　attenuated　income　by
increasing　the　extent　of　his　agricultural　business　if　he　would　still
maintain　his　social　standing。　　Next　to　the　general　stillness
pervading　the　spot；　the　long　line　of　outbuildings　adjoining　the
house　was　the　most　striking　and　saddening　witness　to　the　passed…away
fortunes　of　the　Three　Tranters　Inn。　　It　was　the　bulk　of　the　original
stabling；　and　where　once　the　hoofs　of　two…score　horses　had　daily
rattled　over　the　stony　yard；　to　and　from　the　stalls　within；　thick
grass　now　grew；　whilst　the　line　of　roofsonce　so　straightover　the
decayed　stalls；　had　sunk　into　vast　hollows　till　they　seemed　like　the
cheeks　of　toothless　age。

On　a　green　plot　at　the　other　end　of　the　building　grew　two　or　three
large；　wide…spreading　elm…trees；　from　which　the　sign　was　suspended
representing　the　three　men　called　tranters　（irregular　carriers）；
standing　side　by　side；　and　exactly　alike　to　a　hair's…breadth；　the
grain　of　the　wood　and　joints　of　the　boards　being　visible　through　the
thin　paint　depicting　their　forms；　which　were　still　further
disfigured　by　red　stains　running　downwards　from　the　rusty　nails
above。

Under　the　trees　now　stood　a　cider…mill　and　press；　and　upon　the　spot
sheltered　by　the　boughs　were　gathered　Mr。　Springrove　himself；　his
men；　the　parish　clerk；　two　or　three　other　men；　grinders　and
supernumeraries；　a　woman　with　an　infant　in　her　arms；　a　flock　of
pigeons；　and　some　little　boys　with　straws　in　their　mouths；
endeavouring；　whenever　the　men's　backs　were　turned；　to　get　a　sip　of
the　sweet　juice　issuing　from　the　vat。

Edward　Springrove　the　elder；　the　landlord；　now　more　particularly　a
farmer；　and　for　two　months　in　the　year　a　cider…maker；　was　an
employer　of　labour　of　the　old　school；　who　worked　himself　among　his
men。　　He　was　now　engaged　in　packing　the　pomace　into　horsehair　bags
with　a　rammer；　and　Gad　Weedy；　his　man；　was　occupied　in　shovelling　up
more　from　a　tub　at　his　side。　　The　shovel　shone　like　silver　from　the
action　of　the　juice；　and　ever　and　anon；　in　its　motion　to　and　fro；
caught　the　rays　of　the　declining　sun　and　reflected　them　in　bristling
stars　of　light。

Mr。　Springrove　had　been　too　young　a　man　when　the　pristine　days　of
the　Three　Tranters　had　departed　for　ever　to　have　much　of　the　host
left　in　him　now。　　He　was　a　poet　with　a　rough　skin：　　one　whose
sturdiness　was　more　the　result　of　external　circumstances　than　of
intrinsic　nature。　　Too　kindly　constituted　to　be　very　provident；　he
was　yet　not　imprudent。　　He　had　a　quiet　humorousness　of　disposition；
not　out　of　keeping　with　a　frequent　melancholy；　the　general
expression　of　his　countenance　being　one　of　abstraction。　　Like　Walt
Whitman　he　felt　as　his　years　increased

　　　　　'I　foresee　too　much；　it　means　more　than　I　thought。'

On　the　present　occasion　he　wore　gaiters　and　a　leathern　apron；　and
worked　with　his　shirt…sleeves　rolled　up　beyond　his　elbows；
disclosing　solid　and　fleshy　rather　than　muscular　arms。　　They　were
stained　by　the　cider；　and　two　or　three　brown　apple…pips　from　the
pomace　he　was　handling　were　to　be　seen　sticking　on　them　here　and
there。

The　other　prominent　figure　was　that　of　Richard　Crickett；　the　parish
clerk；　a　kind　of　Bowdlerized　rake；　who　ate　only　as　much　as　a　woman；
and　had　the　rheumatism　in　his　left　hand。　　The　remainder　of　the
group；　brown…faced　peasants；　wore　smock…frocks　embroidered　on　the
shoulders　with　hearts　and　diamonds；　and　were　girt　round　their　middle
with　a　strap；　another　being　worn　round　the　right　wrist。

'And　have　you　seen　the　steward；　Mr。　Springrove？'　said　the　clerk。

'Just　a　glimpse　of　him；　but　'twas　just　enough　to　show　me　that　he's
not　here　for　long。'

'Why　mid　that　be？'

'He'll　never　stand　the　vagaries　of　the　female　figure　holden　the
reinsnot　he。'

'She　d'　pay　en　well；'　said　a　grinder；　'and　money's　money。'

'Ah'tis：　　very　much　so；'　the　clerk　replied。

'Yes；　yes；　naibour　Crickett；'　said　Springrove；　'but　she'll　vlee　in　a
passionall　the　fat　will　be　in　the　fireand　there's　an　end　o't。　。
。　。　　Yes；　she　is　a　one；'　continued　the　farmer；　resting；　raising　his
eyes；　and　reading　the　features　of　a　distant　apple。

'She　is；'　said　Gad；　resting　too　（it　is　wonderful　how　prompt　a
journeyman　is　in　following　his　master's　initiative　to　rest）　and
reflectively　regarding　the　ground　in　front　of　him。

'True：　　a　one　is　she；'　the　clerk　chimed　in；　shaking　his　head
ominously。

'She　has　such　a　temper；'　said　the　farmer；　'and　is　so　wilful　too。
You　may　as　well　try　to　stop　a　footpath　as　stop　her　when　she　has
taken　anything　into　her　head。　　I'd　as　soon　grind　little　green　crabs
all　day　as　live　wi'　her。'

''Tis　a　temper　she　hev；　'tis；'　the　clerk　replied；　'though　I　be　a
servant　of　the　Church　that　say　it。　　But　she　isn't　goen　to　flee　in　a
passion　this　time。'

The　audience　waited　for　the　continuation　of　the　speech；　as　if　they
knew　from　experience　the　exact　distance　off　it　lay　in　the　future。

The　clerk　swallowed　nothing　as　if　it　were　a　great　deal；　and　then
went　on；　'There's　some'at　between　'em：　　mark　my　words；　naibours
there's　some'at　between　'em。'

'D'ye　mean　it？'

'I　d'　know　it。　　He　came　last　Saturday；　didn't　he？'

''A　did；　truly；'　said　Gad　Weedy；　at　the　same　time　taking　an　apple
from　the　hopper　of　the　mill；　eating　a　piece；　and　flinging　back　the
remainder　to　be　ground　up　for　cider。

'He　went　to　church　a…Sunday；'　said　the　clerk　again。

''A　did。'

'And　she　kept　her　eye　upon　en　all　the　service；　her　face　flickeren
between　red　and　white；　but　never　stoppen　at　either。'

Mr。　Springrove　nodded；　and　went　to　the　press。

'Well；'　said　the　clerk；　'you　don't　call　her　the　kind　o'　woman　to
make　mistakes　in　just　trotten　through　the　weekly　service　o'　God？
Why；　as　a　rule　she's　as　right　as　I　be　myself。'

Mr。　Springrove　nodded　again；　and　gave　a　twist　to　the　screw　of　the
press；　followed　in　the　movement　by　Gad　at　the　other　side；　the　two
grinders　expressing　by　looks　of　the　greatest　concern　that；　if　Miss
Aldclyffe　were　as　right　at　church　as　the　clerk；　she　must　be　right
indeed。

'Yes；　as　right　in　the　service　o'　God　as　I　be　myself；'　repeated　the
clerk。　　'But　last　Sunday；　when　we　were　in　the　tenth　commandment；
says　she；　〃Incline　our　hearts　to　keep　this　law；〃　says　she；　when
'twas　〃Laws　in　our　hearts；　we　beseech　Thee；〃　all　the　church　through。
Her　eye　was　upon　HIMshe　was　quite　lost〃Hearts　to　keep　this　law；〃
says　she；　she　was　no　more　than　a　mere　shadder　at　that　tenth　timea
mere　shadder。　　You　mi't　ha'　mouthed　across　to　her　〃Laws　in　our
hearts　we　beseech　Thee；〃　fifty　times　overshe'd　never　ha'　noticed
ye。　　She's　in　love　wi'　the　man；　that's　what　she　is。'

'Then　she's　a　bigger　stunpoll　than　I　took　her　for；'　said　Mr。
Springrove。　　'Why；　she's　old　enough　to　be　his　mother。'

'The　row'll　be　between　her　and　that　young　Curlywig；　you'll　see。　　She
won't　run　the　risk　of　that　pretty　face　be…en　near。'

'Clerk　Crickett；　I　d'　fancy　you　d'　know　everything　about　everybody；'
said　Gad。

'Well　so's；'　said　the　clerk　modestly。　　'I　do　know　a　little。　　It
comes　to　me。'

'And　I　d'　know　where　from。'

'Ah。'

'That　wife　o'　thine。　　She's　an　entertainen　woman；　not　to　speak
disrespectful。'

'She　is：　　and　a　winnen　one。　　Look　at　the　husbands　she've　hadGod
bless　her！'

'I　wonder　you　could　stand　third　in　that　list；　Clerk　Crickett；'　said
Mr。　Springrove。

'Well；　't　has　been　a　power　o'　marvel　to　myself　oftentimes。　　Yes；
matrimony　do　begin　wi'　〃Dearly　beloved；〃　and　ends　wi'　〃Amazement；〃
as　the　prayer…book　says。　　But　what　could　I　do；　naibour　Springrove？
'Twas　ordained　to　be。　　Well　do　I　call　to　mind　what　your　poor　lady
said　to　me　when　I　had　just　married。　　〃Ah；　Mr。　Crickett；〃　says　she；
〃your　wife　will　soon　settle　you　as　she　did　her　other　two：　　here's　a
glass　o'　rum；　for　I　shan't　see　your　poor　face　this　time　next　year。〃
I　swallered　the　rum；　called　again　next　year；　and　said；　〃Mrs。
Springrove；　you　gave　me　a　glass　o'　rum　last　year　because　I　was　going
to　diehere　I　be　alive　still；　you　see。〃　　〃Well　said；　clerk！　　Here's
two　glasses　for　you　now；　then；〃　says　she。　　　〃Thank　you；　mem；〃　I
said；　and　swallered　the　rum。　　Well；　dang　my　old　sides；　next　year　I
thought　I'd　call　again　and　get　three。　　And　call　I　did。　　But　she
wouldn't　give　me　a　drop　o'　the　commonest。　　〃No；　clerk；〃　says　she；
〃you　be　too　tough　for　a　woman's　pity。〃。　。　。　　Ah；　poor　soul；　'twas
true　enough！　　Here　be　I；　that　was　expected　to　die；　alive　and　hard　as
a　nail；　you　see；　and　there's　she　moulderen　in　her　grave。'

'I　used　to　think　'twas　your　wife's　fate　not　to　have　a　liven　husband
when　I　zid　'em　die　off　so；'　said　Gad。

'Fate？　　Bless　thy　simplicity；　so　'twas　her　fate；　but　she　struggled
to　have　one；　and　would；　and　did。　　Fate's　nothen　beside　a　woman's
schemen！'

'I　suppose；　then；　that　Fate　is　a　He；　like　us；　and　the　Lord；　and　the
rest　o'　'em　up　above　there；'　said　Gad；　lifting　his　eyes　to　the　sky。

'Hullo！　　Here's　the　young　woman　comen　that　we　were　a…talken　about
by…now；'　said　a　grinder；　suddenly　interrupting。　　'She's　comen　up
here；　as　I　be　alive！'

The　two　grinders　stood　and　regarded　Cytherea　as　if　she　had　been　a
ship　tacking　into　a　harbour；　nearly　stopping　the　mill　in　their　new
interest。

'Stylish　accoutrements　about　the　head　and　shoulders；　to　my　thinken；'
said　the　clerk。　　'Sheenen　curls；　and　plenty　o'　em。'

'If　there's　one　kind　of　pride　more　excusable　than　another　in　a　young
woman；　'tis　being　proud　of　her　hair；'　said　Mr。　Springrove。

'Dear　man！the　pride　there　is　only　a　small　piece　o'　the　whole。　　I
warrant　now；　though　she　can　show　such　a　figure；　she　ha'n't　a　stick
o'　furniture　to　call　her　own。'

'Come；　Clerk　Crickett；　let　the　maid　be　a　maid　while　she　is　a　maid；'
said　Farmer　Springrove　chivalrously。

'O；'　replied　the　servant　of　the　Church；　'I've　nothen　to　say　against
itO　no：

　　　　　'〃The　chimney…sweeper's　daughter　Sue
　　　　　　　　　As　I　have　heard　declare；　O；
　　　　　　　Although　she's　neither　sock　nor　shoe
　　　　　　　　　Will　curl　and　deck　her　hair；　O。〃'

Cytherea　was　rather　disconcerted　at　finding　that　the　gradual
cessation　of　the　chopping　of　the　mill　was　on　her　account；　and　still
more　when　she　saw　all　the　cider…makers'　eyes　fixed　upon　her　except
Mr。　Springrove's；　whose　natural　delicacy　restrained　him。　　She　neared
the　plot　of　grass；　but　instead　of　advancing　further；　hesitated　on
its　border。

Mr。　Springrove　perceived　her　embarrassment；　which　was　relieved　when
she　saw　his　old…established　figure　coming　across　to　her；　wiping　his
hands　in　his　apron。

'I　know　your　errand；　missie；'　he　said；　'and　am　glad　to　see　you；　and
attend　to　it。　　I'll　step　indoors。'

'If　you　are　busy　I　am　in　no　hurry　for　a　minute　or　two；'　said
Cytherea。

'Then　if　so　be　you　really　wouldn't　mind；　we'll　wring　down　this　last
filling　to　let　it　drain　all　night？'

'Not　at　all。　　I　like　to　see　you。'

'We　are　only　just　grinding　down　the　early　pickthongs　and　griffins；'
continued　the　farmer；　in　a　half…apologetic　tone　for　detaining　by　his
cider…making　any　well…dressed　woman。　　'They　rot　as　black　as　a
chimney…crook　if　we　keep　'