Ignorant of the fact that chance or a spiritual messenger was guiding him aright, Dr. Spenlove plodded24 through the streets. He had no clue, and received none from the half-dozen persons or so he encountered as he walked towards the sea. He was scarcely fit for the task he had undertaken, but so intent was he upon his merciful mission that he bestowed25 no thought upon himself. The nipping air aggravating26 the cough from which he was suffering, he kept his mouth closed as a protection, and peered anxiously before him for some signs of the woman he was pursuing. A man walked briskly and cheerily towards him, puffing27 at a large and fragrant29 cigar, and stamping his feet sturdily into the snow. This man wore a demonstratively furred overcoat; his hands were gloved in fur; his boots were thick and substantial; and in the independent assertion that he was at peace with the world, and on exceedingly good terms with himself, he hummed the words, in Italian, of the Jewel Song in "Faust" every time he removed the cigar from his lips. Although it was but a humming reminiscence of the famous and beautiful number, his faint rendering30 of it was absolutely faultless, and proved him to be a man of refined musicianly taste, quite out of keeping with his demonstratively furred overcoat. Music, however, was not his profession; the instincts of his race and a youthful ambition had welded the divine art into his soul, and the instincts of his race had made him--a pawnbroker31. Singular conjunction of qualities--the music of the celestial32 spheres and fourpence in the pound a month! A vulgar occupation, that of a pawnbroker, which high-toned gentlemen and mortals of aristocratic birth regard with scorn and contempt. But the last vulgar and debasing music-hall ditty which was carolled with delight by the majority of these gilded33 beings of a higher social grade never found lodgment in the soul of Mr. Moss34, which, despite that he devoted35 his business hours to the lending of insignificant36 sums of money upon any small articles which were submitted to his judgment37 across the dark counter of his pawnbroking38 establishment, was attuned39 to a far loftier height than theirs in the divine realms of song. Puff28, puff, puff at his cigar, the curling wreaths from which were whirled into threads of fantastic confusion by the gusts40 of wind, or hung in faint grey curls of beauty during a lull41. The starry42 gleam was transferred from the lips to the fur-covered hand:--
"E' strano poter il viso suo veder;
Ah! mi posso guardar mi pospo rimirar.
Di, sei tu? Margherita!
Di, sei tu? Dimmi su;
Dimmi su, di su, di su, di su presto43!"
From hand to lips the starry gleam, and the soul of Mr. Moss followed the air as he puffed44 his weed....
"E la figlia d'un re!...
Proseguiam l'adornamento.
Vo provare ancor se mi stan
Lo smaniglia ed il monil!"
The pawnbroker broke into ecstasy45. From lips to hand again the starry light, and his voice grew rapturous:--
"Ciel! E come una man
Che sul baaccio mi posa!
Ah! Io rido in poter
Me stessa qui veder!"
The last trill brought him close to Dr. Spenlove.
"Friend, friend!" cried the doctor. "A word with you, for charity's sake!"
Mr. Moss did not disregard the appeal. Slipping off his right glove, and thereby46 displaying two fingers decorated with massive rings studded with diamonds, he fished a couple of coppers47 from a capacious pocket, and thrust them into Dr. Spenlove's outstretched palm. He thought it was a homeless beggar who had besought48 charity. Dr. Spenlove caught his hand, and said,--
"No, no, it is not for that. Will you kindly49 tell me----
"Why," interrupted Mr. Moss, "it is Dr. Spenlove!"
"Mr. Moss," said Dr. Spenlove, with a sigh of relief, "I am glad it is you, I am glad it is you."
"Not gladder than I am," responded Mr. Moss, jovially50. "Even in weather like this I shouldn't care to be anybody else but myself."
This feeble attempt at humour was lost upon Dr. Spenlove.
"You have come from the direction I am taking, and you may have seen a person I am looking for--a woman with a baby in her arms, a poor woman, Mr. Moss, whom I am most anxious to find."
"I've come from the Hard, but I took no account of the people I passed. A man has enough to do to look after himself, with the snow making icicles in his hair, and the wind trying to bite his nose off his face. The first law of nature, you know, doctor, is----"
"Humanity," interrupted Dr. Spenlove.
"No, no, doctor," corrected Mr. Moss; "number one's the first law--number one, number one."
"You did not meet the woman, then?"
"Not to notice her. You've a bad cough, doctor; you'll have to take some of your own medicine." He laughed. "Standing51 here is enough to freeze one."
"I am sorry I troubled you," said Dr. Spenlove, hurt by the tone in which Mr. Moss spoke52. "Good-night."
He was moving away, when Mr. Moss detained him.
"But look here, doctor, you're not fit to be tramping the streets in this storm; you ought to be snuggled up between the blankets. Come home with me, and Mrs. Moss shall make you a hot grog."
Dr. Spenlove shook his head, and passed on. Mr. Moss gazed at the retreating figure, his thoughts commingling53.
"A charitable man, the good doctor, a large-hearted gentleman....
'Tardi si fa ahdio!
Ah! ti scongiuro invan.'
And poor as a church mouse. What woman is he running after? Mrs. Moss would give her a piece of her mind for taking out a baby on such a night.
'Notte d'amor, tutta splendor54,
Begli astra d'oro.
O celeste voluttà!
Udir si, t'amo, t'adoro!'
Too bad to let him go alone, such a good fellow as he is; but Mrs. Moss will be waiting up for me.... She won't mind when I tell her.... I've a good mind to--yes, I will."
And after the doctor went Mr. Moss, and caught up to him.
"Doctor, can I be of any assistance to you?"
"I shall be glad of your help," said Dr. Spenlove, eagerly. "I'm rather worn out; I have had a hard day."
"It's a trying life, the' life of a doctor," said Mr. Moss, sympathetically, as they walked slowly on, side by side. "We were talking of it at home only a month ago, when we were discussing what we should put Michael to, our eldest55 boy, doctor."
"You have a large family," observed Dr. Spenlove.
"Not too large," said Mr. Moss, cheerfully. "Only eleven. My mother had twenty-five, and I've a sister with eighteen. Our youngest--what a rogue56 he is, doctor!--is eight months; our eldest, Michael, is seventeen next birthday. School days over, he buckles57 to for work. We had a family council to decide what he should be. We discussed all the professions, and reduced them to two--doctor, stockbroker58. Michael had a leaning to be a doctor--that's why we kept it in for discussion--but we succeeded in arguing him out of it. Your time's not your own, you see. Called up at all hours of the night, and in all weathers; go to a dinner-party, and dragged away before it's half over, obliged to leave the best behind you; can't enjoy a game of cards or billiards59. You've got a little bet on, perhaps; or you're playing for points and have got a winning hand, when it's 'Doctor, you must come at once; so-and-so's dying.' What's the consequence? You make a miscue, or you revoke60, and you lose your money. If you're married, you're worse off than if you're single; you haven't any comfort of your life. 'No, no, Michael,' says I, 'no doctoring. Stockbroking--that's what you'll go for.' And that's what he is going for. Most of our people, doctor, are lucky in their children. They don't forget to honour their father and their mother, that their days may be long in the land, and so on. There's big fish on the Stock Exchange, and they're worth trying for. What's the use of sprats? It takes a hundred to fill a dish. Catch one salmon61, and your dish is filled. A grand fish, doctor, a grand fish! What to do with your sons? Why, put them where they can make money; don't make scavengers or coal-heavers of them. We know what we're about. There's no brain in the world to compare with ours, and that's no boast, let me tell you. Take your strikes, now. A strike of bricklayers for a rise of twopence a day in their wages. How many of our race among the strikers? Not one. Did you ever see a Jewish bricklayer carrying a hod up a hundred-foot ladder, and risking his neck for bread, cheese, and beer? No, and you never will. We did our share of that kind of work in old Egypt; we made all the bricks we wanted to, and now we're taking a rest. A strike of bootmakers. How many of our race among the cobblers? One in a thousand, and he's an addlepate. We deal in boots wholesale62; but we don't make them ourselves. Not likely. We send consignments63 of them to the colonies, and open a dozen shops in every large city, with fine plate-glass windows. We build houses with our money and your bricks and mortar64. When we're after birds we don't care for sparrows: we aim at eagles, and we bring them down; we bring them down." He beat his gloved hands together, and chuckled65. "What's your opinion, doctor?"
"You are right, quite right," said Dr. Spenlove, upon whose ears his companion's words had fallen like the buzzing of insects.
"Should say I was," said Mr. Moss. "I ought to have gone on the Stock Exchange myself; but when I was a young man I fancied I had a voice; so I went in for music, studied Italian and all the famous operas till I knew them by heart almost, and found out in the end that my voice wasn't good enough. It was a great disappointment, because I had dreamt of making a fortune as a tenor66. Signor Mossini--that was to be my name. My money being all spent, I had to take what was offered to me, a situation with a pawnbroker. That is how I became one, and I've no reason to regret it. Eh? Why are you running away?"
For Dr. Spenlove suddenly left his companion, and hurried forward.
During the time that Mr. Moss was unbosoming himself they had not met a soul, and Dr. Spenlove had seen nothing to sustain his hope of finding Mrs. Turner. But now his observant eyes detected a movement in the snow-laden road which thrilled him with apprehension67, and caused him to hasten to the spot. It was as if some living creature were striving feebly to release itself from the fatal white shroud68. Mr. Moss hurried after him, and they reached the spot at the same moment. In a fever of anxiety Dr. Spenlove knelt and pushed the snow aside, and then there came into view a baby's hand and arm.
"Good God!" he murmured, and gently lifted the babe from the cold bed.
"Is it alive? is it alive?" cried Mr. Moss, all his nerves tingling69 with excitement. "Give it to me--quick! there's some one else there."
He saw portions of female clothing in the snow which Dr. Spenlove was pushing frantically70 away. He snatched up the babe, and, opening his fur coat, clasped the little one to his breast, and enveloped71 it in its warm folds. Meanwhile Dr. Spenlove was working at fever-heat. To release Mrs. Turner from her perilous72 position, to raise her to her feet, to put his mouth to her mouth, his ear to her heart, to assure himself there was a faint pulsation73 in her body--all this was the work of a few moments.
"Does she breathe, doctor?" asked Mr. Moss.
"She does," replied Dr. Spenlove; and added, in deep distress74, "but she may die in my arms."
"Not if we can save her. Here, help me off with this thick coat. Easy, easy; I have only one arm free. Now let us get her into it. That's capitally done. Put the baby inside as well; it will hold them both comfortably. Button it over them. There, that will keep them nice and warm. Do you know her? Does she live far from here? Is she the woman you are looking for?"
"Yes, and her lodging75 is a mile away. How can we get her home?"
"We'll manage it. Ah, we're in luck. Here's a cab coming towards us. Hold on to them while I speak to the driver."
He was off and back again with the cab--with the driver of which he had made a rapid bargain--in a wonderfully short space of time. The mother and her babe were lifted tenderly in, the address was given to the driver, the two kind-hearted men took their seats, the windows were pulled up, and the cab crawled slowly on towards Mrs. Turner's lodging. Dr. Spenlove's skilful76 hands were busy over the woman, restoring animation77 to her frozen limbs, and Mr. Moss was doing the same to the child.
"How are you getting along, doctor? I am progressing famously, famously. The child is warming up, and is beginning to breathe quite nicely."
He was handling the babe as tenderly as if it were a child of his own.
"She will recover, I trust," said Dr. Spenlove; "but we were only just in time. It is fortunate that I met you, Mr. Moss; you have been the means of saving two helpless, unfortunate beings."
"Nonsense, nonsense," answered Mr. Moss. "I have only done what any man would do. It is you who have saved them, doctor, not I. I am proud to know you, and I shall be glad to hear of your getting along in the world. You haven't done very well up to now, I fear. Go for the big fish and the big birds, doctor."
"If that were the universal law of life," asked Dr. Spenlove, in a tone of exquisite78 compassion79, with a motion of his hands towards Mrs. Turner and her child, "what would become of these?"
"Ah, yes, yes," responded Mr. Moss, gravely; "but I mean in a general way, you know. To be sure, there are millions more little fish and birds than there are big ones, but it's a selfish world, doctor."
"You are not an exemplification of it," said Dr. Spenlove, his eyes brightening. "The milk of human kindness will never be frozen, even on such bitter nights as this, while men like you are in it."
"You make me ashamed of myself," cried Mr. Moss, violently, but instantly sobered down. "And now, as I see we are close to the poor woman's house, perhaps you will tell me what more I can do."
Dr. Spenlove took from his pocket the money with which he had intended to pay his fare to London, and held it out to Mr. Moss. "Pay the cabman for me, and assist me to carry the woman up to her room."
Mr. Moss thrust the money back. "I will pay him myself; it is my cab, not yours. I don't allow any one to get the better of me if I can help it."
When the cab stopped he jumped out and settled with the driver, and then he and Dr. Spenlove carried Mrs. Turner and her babe to the top of the house. The room was dark and cold, and Mr. Moss shivered. He struck a match, and held it while Dr. Spenlove laid the mother and child upon their wretched bed.
"Kindly stop here a moment," said the doctor.
He went into the passage, and called to the lodger80 on the same floor of whom he had made inquiries81 earlier in the night. She soon appeared, and after they had exchanged a few words, accompanied him, but partially82 dressed, to Mrs. Turner's room. She brought a lighted candle with her, and upon Mr. Moss taking it from her, devoted herself, with Dr. Spenlove, to her fellow-lodger and the babe.
"Dear, dear, dear!" she said, piteously. "Poor soul, poor soul!"
Mr. Moss was not idle. All the finer qualities of his nature were stirred to action by the adventures of the night. He knelt before the grate; it was empty; not a cinder83 had been left; some grey ashes on the hearth--that was all. He looked into the broken coal scuttle84; it had been scraped bare. Rising to his feet he stepped to the cupboard; a cracked cup and saucer were there, a chipped plate or two, a mouthless jug85, but not a vestige86 of food. Without a word he left the room, and sped downstairs.
He was absent fifteen or twenty minutes, and when he returned it was in the company of a man who carried a hundredweight of coals upon his shoulders. Mr. Moss himself was loaded: under his armpits two bundles of wood and a loaf of bread; in one hand tea and butter; in his other hand a can of milk.
"God bless you, sir!" said the woman, who was assisting Dr. Spenlove.
Mr. Moss knelt again before the grate, and made a fire. Kettle in hand he searched for water.
"You will find some in my room, sir," said the woman.
Mrs. Turner and her babe were now in bed, the child still craving87 for food, the mother still unconscious, but breathing heavily. The fire lit, and the kettle on, Mr. Moss put on his fur overcoat, whispered a good-night to Dr. Spenlove, received a grateful pressure of the hand in reply, slipped out of the house, and took his way home, humming--
"O del ciel angeli immortal88,
Deh mi guidate con21 voi lassù!
Dio giusto, a te m'abbandono,
Buon Dio, m'accorda il tuo perdono!"
He looked at his hands, which were black from contact with the coals.
"What will Mrs. Moss say?" he murmured.
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1
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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3
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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4
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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5
dishonoured
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| a.不光彩的，不名誉的 | |
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6
tainted
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| adj.腐坏的；污染的；沾污的；感染的v.使变质( taint的过去式和过去分词 )；使污染；败坏；被污染，腐坏，败坏 | |
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7
mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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8
maidenhood
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| n. 处女性, 处女时代 | |
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9
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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10
specious
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| adj.似是而非的；adv.似是而非地 | |
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11
wiles
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| n.（旨在欺骗或吸引人的）诡计，花招；欺骗，欺诈( wile的名词复数 ) | |
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12
lure
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| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
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13
honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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14
alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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15
beguiled
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| v.欺骗( beguile的过去式和过去分词 )；使陶醉；使高兴；消磨（时间等） | |
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16
limned
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| v.画( limn的过去式和过去分词 )；勾画；描写；描述 | |
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sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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18
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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20
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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con
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| n.反对的观点，反对者，反对票，肺病；vt.精读，学习，默记；adv.反对地，从反面；adj.欺诈的 | |
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pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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plodded
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| v.沉重缓慢地走（路）( plod的过去式和过去分词 )；努力从事；沉闷地苦干；缓慢进行（尤指艰难枯燥的工作） | |
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25
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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aggravating
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| adj.恼人的，讨厌的 | |
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27
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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28
puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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rendering
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| n.表现，描写 | |
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pawnbroker
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| n.典当商，当铺老板 | |
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celestial
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| adj.天体的；天上的 | |
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gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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pawnbroking
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| n.典当业 | |
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39
attuned
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| v.使协调( attune的过去式和过去分词 )；调音 | |
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40
gusts
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| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
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41
lull
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| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
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42
starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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43
presto
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| adv.急速地；n.急板乐段；adj.急板的 | |
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44
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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45
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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46
thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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47
coppers
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| 铜( copper的名词复数 )； 铜币 | |
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48
besought
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| v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的过去式和过去分词 )；(beseech的过去式与过去分词) | |
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49
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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50
jovially
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| adv.愉快地，高兴地 | |
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51
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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52
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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53
commingling
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| v.混合，掺和，合并( commingle的现在分词 ) | |
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54
splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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55
eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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buckles
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| 搭扣，扣环( buckle的名词复数 ) | |
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stockbroker
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| n.股票（或证券），经纪人（或机构） | |
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billiards
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| n.台球 | |
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revoke
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| v.废除，取消，撤回 | |
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salmon
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| n.鲑，大马哈鱼，橙红色的 | |
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wholesale
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| n.批发；adv.以批发方式；vt.批发，成批出售 | |
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consignments
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| n.托付货物( consignment的名词复数 )；托卖货物；寄售；托运 | |
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mortar
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| n.灰浆，灰泥；迫击炮；v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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shroud
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| n.裹尸布，寿衣；罩，幕；vt.覆盖，隐藏 | |
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tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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pulsation
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| n.脉搏，悸动，脉动；搏动性 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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lodger
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| n.寄宿人，房客 | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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cinder
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| n.余烬，矿渣 | |
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scuttle
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| v.急赶，疾走，逃避；n.天窗；舷窗 | |
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jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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vestige
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| n.痕迹，遗迹，残余 | |
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craving
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| n.渴望,热望 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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