john ingerfield and other stories-第13部分
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she did it I could never understand; for the two heavy bolts had both
been drawn; but the next moment the door stood wide open; and a hum
of voices; cheery with the anticipation of a period of perfect bliss;
was borne in upon the cool night air。
My mother was always very quick of hearing。
Again; I see a wild crowd of grim faces; and my father's; very pale;
amongst them。 But this time the faces are very many; and they come
and go like faces in a dream。 The ground beneath my feet is wet and
sloppy; and a black rain is falling。 There are women's faces in the
crowd; wild and haggard; and long skinny arms stretch out
threateningly towards my father; and shrill; frenzied voices call out
curses on him。 Boys' faces also pass me in the grey light; and on
some of them there is an impish grin。
I seem to be in everybody's way; and to get out of it; I crawl into a
dark; draughty corner and crouch there among cinders。 Around me;
great engines fiercely strain and pant like living things fighting
beyond their strength。 Their gaunt arms whirl madly above me; and
the ground rocks with their throbbing。 Dark figures flit to and fro;
pausing from time to time to wipe the black sweat from their faces。
The pale light fades; and the flame…lit night lies red upon the land。
The flitting figures take strange shapes。 I hear the hissing of
wheels; the furious clanking of iron chains; the hoarse shouting of
many voices; the hurrying tread of many feet; and; through all; the
wailing and weeping and cursing that never seem to cease。 I drop
into a restless sleep; and dream that I have broken a chapel window;
stone…throwing; and have died and gone to hell。
At length; a cold hand is laid upon my shoulder; and I awake。 The
wild faces have vanished and all is silent now; and I wonder if the
whole thing has been a dream。 My father lifts me into the dog…cart;
and we drive home through the chill dawn。
My mother opens the door softly as we alight。 She does not speak;
only looks her question。 〃It's all over; Maggie;〃 answers my father
very quietly; as he takes off his coat and lays it across a chair;
〃we've got to begin the world afresh。〃
My mother's arms steal up about his neck; and I; feeling heavy with a
trouble I do not understand; creep off to bed。
THE LEASE OF THE 〃CROSS KEYS。〃
This story is about a shop: many stories are。 One Sunday evening
this Bishop had to preach a sermon at St。 Paul's Cathedral。 The
occasion was a very special and important one; and every God…fearing
newspaper in the kingdom sent its own special representative to
report the proceedings。
Now; of the three reporters thus commissioned; one was a man of
appearance so eminently respectable that no one would have thought of
taking him for a journalist。 People used to put him down for a
County Councillor or an Archdeacon at the very least。 As a matter of
fact; however; he was a sinful man; with a passion for gin。 He lived
at Bow; and; on the Sabbath in question; he left his home at five
o'clock in the afternoon; and started to walk to the scene of his
labours。 The road from Bow to the City on a wet and chilly Sunday
evening is a cheerless one; who can blame him if on his way he
stopped once or twice to comfort himself with 〃two〃 of his favourite
beverage? On reaching St。 Paul's he found he had twenty minutes to
sparejust time enough for one final 〃nip。〃 Half way down a narrow
court leading out of the Churchyard he found a quiet little hostelry;
and; entering the private bar; whispered insinuatingly across the
counter:
〃Two of gin hot; if you please; my dear。〃
His voice had the self…satisfied meekness of the successful
ecclesiastic; his bearing suggested rectitude tempered by desire to
avoid observation。 The barmaid; impressed by his manner and
appearance; drew the attention of the landlord to him。 The landlord
covertly took stock of so much of him as could be seen between his
buttoned…up coat and his drawn…down hat; and wondered how so bland
and innocent…looking a gentleman came to know of gin。
A landlord's duty; however; is not to wonder; but to serve。 The gin
was given to the man; and the man drank it。 He liked it。 It was
good gin: he was a connoisseur; and he knew。 Indeed; so good did it
seem to him that he felt it would be a waste of opportunity not to
have another twopen'orth。 Therefore he had a second 〃go〃; maybe a
third。 Then he returned to the Cathedral; and sat himself down with
his notebook on his knee and waited。
As the service proceeded there stole over him that spirit of
indifference to all earthly surroundings that religion and drink are
alone able to bestow。 He heard the good Bishop's text and wrote it
down。 Then he heard the Bishop's 〃sixthly and lastly;〃 and took that
down; and looked at his notebook and wondered in a peaceful way what
had become of the 〃firstly〃 to 〃fifthly〃 inclusive。 He sat there
wondering until the people round him began to get up and move away;
whereupon it struck him swiftly and suddenly that be had been asleep;
and had thereby escaped the main body of the discourse。
What on earth was he to do? He was representing one of the leading
religious papers。 A full report of the sermon was wanted that very
night。 Seizing the robe of a passing wandsman; he tremulously
inquired if the Bishop had yet left the Cathedral。 The wandsman
answered that he had not; but that he was just on the point of doing
so。
〃I must see him before he goes!〃 exclaimed the reporter; excitedly。
〃You can't;〃 replied the wandsman。 The journalist grew frantic。
〃Tell him;〃 he cried; 〃a penitent sinner desires to speak with him
about the sermon he has just delivered。 To…morrow it will be too
late。〃
The wandsman was touched; so was the Bishop。 He said he would see
the poor fellow。
As soon as the door was shut the man; with tears in his eyes; told
the Bishop the truthleaving out the gin。 He said that he was a
poor man; and not in good health; that he had been up half the night
before; and had walked all the way from Bow that evening。 He dwelt
on the disastrous results to himself and his family should he fail to
obtain a report of the sermon。 The Bishop felt sorry for the man。
Also; he was anxious that his sermon should be reported。
〃Well; I trust it will be a warning to you against going to sleep in
church;〃 he said; with an indulgent smile。 〃Luckily; I have brought
my notes with me; and if you will promise to be very careful of them;
and to bring them back to me the first thing in the morning; I will
lend them to you。〃
With this; the Bishop opened and handed to the man a neat little
black leather bag; inside which lay a neat little roll of manuscript。
〃Better take the bag to keep it in;〃 added the Bishop。 〃Be sure and
let me have them both back early to…morrow。〃
The reporter; when he examined the contents of the bag under a lamp
in the Cathedral vestibule; could hardly believe his good fortune。
The careful Bishop's notes were so full and clear that for all
practical purposes they were equal to a report。 His work was already
done。 He felt so pleased with himself that he determined to treat
himself to another 〃two〃 of gin; and; with this intent; made his way
across to the little 〃public〃 before…mentioned。
〃It's really excellent gin you sell here;〃 he said to the barmaid
when he had finished; 〃I think; my dear; I'll have just one more。〃
At eleven the landlord gently but firmly insisted on his leaving; and
he went; assisted; as far as the end of the court; by the potboy。
After he was gone; the landlord noticed a neat little black bag on
the seat where he had been lying。 Examining it closely; he
discovered a brass plate between the handles; and upon the brass
plate were engraved the owner's name and title。 Opening the bag; the
landlord saw a neat little roll of manuscript; and across a corner of
the manuscript was written the Bishop's name and address。
The landlord blew a long; low whistle; and stood with his round eyes
wide open gazing down at the open bag。 Then he put on his hat and
coat; and taking the bag; went out down the court; chuckling hugely
as he walked。 He went straight to the house of the Resident Canon
and rang the bell。
〃Tell Mr。 ;〃 he said to the servant; 〃that I must see him to…night。
I wouldn't disturb him at this late hour if it wasn't something very
important。〃
The landlord was ushered up。 Closing the door softly behind him; he
coughed deferentially。
〃Well; Mr。 Peters〃 (I will call him 〃Peters〃); said the Canon; 〃what
is it?〃
〃Well; sir;〃 said Mr。 Peters; slowly and deliberately; 〃it's about
that there lease o' mine。 I do hope you gentlemen will see your way
to makin' it twenty…one year instead o' fourteen。〃
〃God bless the man!〃 cried the Canon; jumping up indignantly; 〃you
don't mean to say you've come to me at eleven o'clock on a Sunday
night to talk about your lease?〃
〃Well; not entirely; sir;〃 answered Peters; unabashed; 〃there's
another little thing I wished to speak to you about; and that's
this〃saying which; he laid the Bishop's bag before the Canon and
told his story。
The Canon looked at Mr。 Peters; and Mr。 Peters looked at the Canon。
〃There must be some mistake;〃 said the Canon。
〃There's no mistake;〃 said the landlord。 〃I had my suspicions when I
first clapped eyes on him。 I seed he wasn't our usual sort; and I
seed how he tried to hide his face。 If he weren't the Bishop; then I
don't know a Bishop when I sees one; that's all。 Besides; there's
his bag; and there's his sermon。〃
Mr。 Peters folded his arms and waited。 The Canon pondered。 Such
things had been known to happen before in Church history。 Why not
again?
〃Does any one know of this besides yourself?〃 asked the Canon。
〃Not a livin