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第29部分

双城记 查尔斯·狄更斯-第29部分

小说: 双城记 查尔斯·狄更斯 字数: 每页4000字

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spect……Life on the lowest terms that could sustain it; down in the little village under die mill; or captivity and Death in the dominant prison on the crag。
Heralded by a courier in advance; and by the cracking of his postilions' whips; which twined snake…like about their heads in the evening air; as if he came attended by the Furies; Monsieur the Marquis drew up in his travelling carriage at the posting…house gate。 It was hard by the fountain; and the peasants suspended their operations to look at him。 He looked at them; and saw in them; without knowing it; the slow sure filing down of misery…worn face and figure; that was to make the meagerness of Frenchmen an English superstition which should survive the truth through the best part of a hundred years。
Monsieur the Marquis cast his eyes over the submissive faces that drooped before him; as the like of himself had drooped before Monseigneur of the Court……only the difference was; that these faces drooped merely to suffer and not to propitiate……when a grizzled mender of the roads joined the group。
‘Bring me hither that fellow!' said the Marquis to the courier。
The fellow was brought; cap in hand; and the other fellows closed round to look and listen; in the manner of the people at the Paris fountain。
‘I passed you on the road?'
‘Monseigneur; it is true。 I had the honour of being passed on the road。'
‘ing up the hill; and at the top of the hill; both?' 
‘Monseigneur; it is true。 
‘What did you look at; so fixedly?' 
‘Monseigneur; I looked at the man。'
He stooped a little; and with his tattered blue cap pointed under the carriage。 All his fellows stooped to look under the carriage。
‘Mat man; pig? And why look there?' 
‘Pardon; Monseigneur; he swung by the chain of the shoe the drag。'
‘Who?' demanded the traveller。
‘Monseigneur; the man。'
‘May the Devil carry away these idiots! How do you call the man? You know all the men of this part of the country。 Who was he?'
‘Your clemency; Monseigneur! He was not of this part of the country。 Of all the days of my life; I never saw him。'
‘Swinging by the chain? To be suffocated?'
‘With your gracious permission; that was the wonder of it; Monseigneur。 His head hanging over……like this!'
He turned himself sideways to the carriage; and leaned back; with his face thrown up to the sky; and his head hanging down; then recovered himself; fumbled with his cap; and made a bow。
‘what was he like?'
‘Monseigneur; he was whiter than the miller。 All covered with dust; white as a spectre; tall as a spectre!'
The picture produced an immense sensation in the little crowd; but all eyes; without paring notes with other eyes; looked at Monsieur the Marquis。 Perhaps; to observe whether he had any spectre on his conscience。
‘Truly; you did well;' said the Marquis; felicitously sensible that such vermin were not to ruffle him; ‘to see a thief acpanying my carriage; and not open that great mouth of yours。 Bah! Put him aside; Monsieur Gabelle!'
Monsieur Gabelle was the Postmaster; and some other taxing functionary united; he had e out with great obsequiousness to assist at this examination; and had held the examined by the drapery of his arm in an official manner。
‘Bah! Go aside!' said Monsieur Gabelle。
‘Lay hands on this stranger if he seeks to lodge in your village to…night; and be sure that his business is honest; Gabelle。'
‘Monseigneur; I am flattered to devote myself to your orders。'
‘Did he run away; fellow?……here is that Accursed?'
The accursed was already under the carriage with some half…dozen particular friends; pointing out the chain with his blue cap。 Some half…dozen other particular friends promptly hauled him out; and presented him breathless to Monsieur the Marquis。 
‘Did the man run away; Dolt; when we stopped for the drag?'
‘Monseigneur; he precipitated himself over the hill…side; head first; as a person plunges into the river。'
‘See to it; Gabelle。 Go on!'
The half…dozen who were peering at the chain were still among the wheels; like sheep; the wheels turned so suddenly that they were lucky to save their skins and bones; they had very little else to save; or they might not have been so fortunate。
The burst with which the carriage started out of the village and up the rise beyond; was soon checked by the steepness of the hill。 Gradually; it subsided to a foot pace; swinging and lumbering upward among the many sweet scents of a summer night。 The postilions; with a thousand gossamer gnats circling about them in lieu of the Furies; quietly mended the points to the lashes of their whips; the valet walked by the horses; the courier was audible; trotting on ahead into the dim distance。
At the steepest point of the hill there was a little burial ground; with a Cross and a new large figure of Our Saviour on it; it was a poor figure in wood; done by some inexperienced rustic carver; but he had studied the figure from the life……is own life; maybe……or it was dreadfully spare and thin。
To this distressful emblem of a great distress that had long been growing worse; and was not at its worst; a woman was kneeling。 She turned her head as the carriage came up to her; rose quickly; and presented herself at the carriage…door。
‘It is you; Monseigneur! Monseigneur; a petition。'
With an exclamation of impatience; but with his Un+changeable face; Monseigneur looked out。
‘How; then! What is it? Always petitions!'
‘Monseigneur。 For the love of the great God! My husband; the forester。'
‘What of your husband; the forester? Always the same with you people。 He cannot pay something?'
‘He has paid all; Monseigneur。 He is dead。' 
‘Well! He is quiet。 Can I restore him to you?'
‘Alas; no; Monseigneur! But he lies yonder; under a little heap of poor grass。'
‘Well?'
‘Monseigneur;; there are so many little heaps of par grass?' 
‘Again; well?' 
She looked an old woman; but was young。 Her manner was one of passionate grief; by turns she clasped her veinous and knotted hands together with wild energy; and laid one of them on the carriage…door……tenderly; caressingly; as if it had been a human breast; and could be expected to feel the appealing touch。
‘Monseigneur; hear me! Monseigneur; hear my petition! My husband died of want; so many die of want; so many more will die of want。'
‘Again; well? Can I feed them?'
‘Monseigneur; the good God knows; but I don't ask it。 My petition is; that a morsel of stone or wood; with my husband's name; may be placed over him to show where he lies。 Otherwise; the place will be quickly forgotten; it will never be found when I am dead of the same malady; I shall be laid under some other heap of poor grass。 Monseigneur; they are so many; they increase so fast; there is so much want。 Monseigneur! Monseigneur!'
The valet had put her away from the door; the carriage had broken into a brisk trot; the postilions had quickened the pace; she was left far behind; and Monseigneur; again escorted by the Furies; was rapidly diminishing the league or two of distance that remained between him and his chateau。
The sweet scents of the summer night rose all around him; and rose; as the rain falls; impartially; on the dusty; ragged; and toil…worn group at the fountain not far away; to whom the mender of roads; with the aid of the blue cap without which he was nothing; still enlarged upon his man like a spectre; as long as they could bear it。 By degrees; as they could bear no more; they dropped off one by one; and lights twinkled in little casements; which lights; as the casements darkened; and more stars came out; seemed to have shot up into the sky instead of having been extinguished。
The shadow of a large high…roofed house; and of many overhanging trees; was upon Monsieur the Marquis by that time; and the shadow was exchanged for the light of a flambeau; as his carriage stopped; and the great door of his chateau was opened to him。
‘Monsieur Charles; whom I expect: is he arrived from England?'
‘Monseigneur; not yet。'
CHAPTER IX
The Gorgon's Head
IT was a heavy mass of building; that chaateau of Monsieur the Marquis; with a large stone court…yard before it; and two stone sweeps of staircase meeting in a stone terrace before the principal door。 A stony business altogether; with heavy stone balustrades; and stone urns; and stone

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