Scott.
Though Johnnie’s journey was over, his troubles were not at an end. When he came to the first houses, the way seemed still to lengthen1 out before him, and everything appeared to be still asleep, though the daylight was coming in as brightly as a foggy morning allowed. Nor did he know his way; he had only driven to a timber-yard once with his cousin, and dined with him at a little public-house close by, and had no more than a dim recollection of shops, which looked quite different now, with all their shutters2 up. Only a milk-cart, coming in with full tins, seemed to give a sign that people would want their breakfast some time or other; and next appeared a very black sweep with his cart, and two miserable3 little bare-footed boys running beside it, as black as the silhouette4 over Mrs Thorpe’s chimney.
Half-past five struck, and charwomen began to come out of side alleys5, baker’s shops to take down their shutters. Johnnie ventured to ask one of the apprentice6 boys doing so the way to the Royal George Hotel.
“D’ye want to bespeak7 the best apartments?” was all the answer he got, as the lad stopped his whistling and looked superciliously8 at Johnnie’s battered9, dusty working dress, and old straw hat.
He found he should only be laughed at and walked on, renewing his question when he saw a good-natured-looking woman in a black bonnet10 and stout11 canvas apron12, apparently13 going out for a day’s washing.
“Is it the Royal or the King George Tavern14 as you mean, my son?” she asked him.
“Oh! the Royal—the one where the gentlemen goes,” said Johnnie. “I’ve got a message for one of ’em.”
“Bless you, my lad, they won’t never let you in at this time of morning,” said the woman.
“It’s very particular,” returned John. “I came off at night to tell him.”
She looked at him curiously15. “And what might it be, young man! Some one taken very bad, no doubt.”
“No—not that,” said John, and she looked so kind, he could not help telling. “But he have got a machine, and Jack16 Swing is coming, and if he don’t come home to see to the poor ladies—”
“Bless me, and who may it be?”
“Captain Carbonel—out at Uphill.”
“Never heard tell of the place.”
“It’s out beyond Poppleby.”
“My! And you’ve comed all that way to-night?”
“The ladies are very good. He’s a right good gentleman. All one to the poor as to the rich.”
“I say! You are a good young man, to be sure! I’d go with you and get to the speech of Lavinia Bull, the chambermaid, what I know right well; but if I’m not at Mrs Hurd’s by six o’clock, she’ll be flying at me like a wild cat. Mercy on me, there it goes six! Well, if that fine dandy, Boots, as is puffed17 up like a peacock, won’t heed18 you, ask for Lavinia Bull, and say Mrs Callendar sent you, and he will call her fast enough.”
John thanked her and was going off at once, but she called out, “Bless the boy, he’s off without even hearing where to go! Just opposite the City Cross, as they calls it.”
It was not much like a cross to Johnnie’s mind, being a sort of tower, all arches and pinnacles19 and mouldered20 statues, getting smaller up to the spiring21 top; but he knew it, and saw the hotel opposite with all its blinds down, nothing like astir yet, except that some one was about under the great open doorway22 leading into a yard, half entrance, to the hotel.
He could see a man brushing a shoe, and went up with “Please, sir—” But he was met by, “Get off you young vagabond, we want none of your sort here.”
“Please, sir, I have a message for Miss Bull;” he hesitated.
“She ain’t down. Get off, I say. We don’t have no idle lads here.”
“It’s very particular—from Mrs Callendar.”
“Old witch! Have she been burning any one’s shirt fronts. I say, Jem, you see if Lavinia is in the kitchen, and tell her old Callendar has been burning holes in her stockings or collars, and has sent a young scarecrow to tell her.”
John opened his mouth to say it was no such thing; but the under shoeblack, who was a sort of slave to Boots, made an ugly face at him, and was gone, turning coach wheels across the yard. In another minute Lavinia, a nice brisk looking young woman, had come up with, “Well, young man, what has Mrs Callendar been after now?”
“Please, ma’am, nothing; but she said as how I was to ask for you. It’s for Captain Carbonel, ma’am, a message from Uphill—that’s his home.”
“Captain Carbonel—that’s Number Seven,” she said, consulting a slate23 that hung near the bar. “He was to be called at eight o’clock. Won’t that do?”
“Oh no, no, ma’am,” implored24 John, thinking that the captain was taking his rest away from home. “It’s very particular, and I have come all night with it.”
“You have got to call Number Five for the High Flier at half-past six,” she said, turning to Boots. “Could not you take up word at the same time?”
“Catch me running errands for a jackanapes like that,” said Boots, with a contemptuous shrug25, turning away, and brushing at his shoe.
“Never mind him,” said good-natured Lavinia. “What shall I say, young man?”
“Oh, thank you, miss. Say that John Hewlett have brought him a message from Uphill.”
“Jack Owlet! Oh my! Hoo! hoo!” exclaimed the blacking boy, as soon as Lavinia had disappeared up the stairs, dancing about with his hands on his hips26. “Look here, Tom,”—to a boy with a pail, who had just come in—“here be an Owlet’s just flown in out of the mud. Hoo! hoo! Where did you get that ’ere patch on your back.”
“Where you never got none,” responded the other boy. “Mother stitched it for him.”
“Ay, sitting under a hedge, with her pot hung up on three sticks and a hedgepig in it,” added the younger Boots. “Come, own up, young gipsy! Yer come to get a tanner out of Number Seven with your tales.”
“I’m no gipsy,” growled27 John; “but—”
“Come, come,” called out Boots, “none of your row. And you, you impudent28 tramp, don’t ye be larking29 about here, making the lads idle. Get out of the yard with ye, or I call the master to you.”
The landlord might probably have been far more civil; but poor Johnnie did not know this, and could only move off to the entrance of the court, so that when Lavinia in another moment appeared and asked where he was, Boots answered—
“How should I tell? He was up to mischief30 with the boys, and I bade him be off.”
“Well, Number Seven is ever so much put about, and he said he would be down in a jiffy! So there!”
Lavinia held up her skirts, and began in her white stockings to pick her way across the yard, while Boots sneered31, and began brushing his shoe, and whistling as if quite undisturbed; and in another moment Captain Carbonel did appear, coming down the stairs very fast, all unshaven, and with a few clothes hastily thrown on, and quite ran after Lavinia, passing her as she pointed32 out beyond the entrance, where John was disconsolately33 leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, feeling how utterly34 weary and hungry he was, and with uneasy thoughts about his father coming over him.
“Oh, there you are, John Hewlett! What is it? No one ill?” exclaimed the captain.
“No, sir; but,”—coming nearer and lowering his voice—“Jack Swing, sir.”
“Jack Swing! We had notice of him out at Delafield.”
John shook his head, and looked down.
“What! Do you know anything, my boy? Here, come in—tell me!”
“Please, sir, they’ve laid it out to come to Greenhow this very day as is, to break the machine and get the guns and money.”
The captain started, as well he might; but still demanded, “How do you know?”
John held his head down, most unwilling35 to answer.
“Look here, my lad, you’ve done well coming to warn me; but I must be certain of your news before acting36 on it. We were to ride off to Delafield to-day, and I must know if this is only a rumour37.”
“Aunt heard them,” said John, between his teeth. “She heard them planning it for to-morrow—that’s to-day—and she laid it on me to let you know to save the ladies from being fraught38.”
“Your aunt heard it?”
“Through the window in the back garden. They planned to get all the chaps at Downhill and all, and go at the machine.”
“The villains39! Who did? No, I’ll not ask that, my lad,” said the captain, knowing only too well who it must have been; “you have acted nobly, and I am for ever obliged to you. Come in, and have some breakfast, while I dress and report this, and see what is to be done. You are sure there is time?”
“They was to go about at dinner-time to get the folks,” John squeezed out of his mouth, much against his will.
“Then there’s time. Thank you with all my heart, John! I’ll see you again. Here,”—to a barmaid who had appeared on the scene—“give this young man a hearty40 good breakfast and a cup of ale—will you?—and I’ll be down again presently. Stay till I come, Hewlett, and I’ll see you again, and how you are to get home! Why, it is twenty miles! Were you walking all night?”
“Only I went to sleep a bit of the time when I was trying to make out the milestone41; I don’t rightly know how long it was,” said John, so much ashamed of his nap that the captain laughed, and said—
“Never mind, Johnnie, you are here in the very nick of time; eat your breakfast, and I’ll see you again.”
The good-natured barmaid let John have a wash at the pump with a bit of yellow soap and the round towel, and he was able to eat his breakfast with a will—a corner of cold pie and a glass of strong ale, such a breakfast as he had never seen, though it was only the leavings of yesterday’s luncheon42. Everybody was too busy just then to pay him any attention, and he had time to hear all the noises and bells seem to run into one dull sound, and to be nodding in his chair before he was called by a waiter, with—“Ha, youngster, there, look alive! the gentlemen wants you.”
Now that sleep had once begun upon him, assisted by the ale, John looked some degrees less alive, though far more respectable than on his first arrival. He was ushered43 into the coffee-room, where three or four gentlemen sat at one table, all in blue and silver, with the captain, and as he pulled his forelock and bobbed his head, the elder of them—a dignified44 looking man with grey hair and whiskers and a silver-laced uniform, said—“So, my lad, you are come to warn Captain Carbonel of an intended attack on his property?”
“Yes, sir,” John mumbled45, looking more and more of a lout46, for he had thought the captain would just go home alone to defend his wife and his machine, and was dismayed at finding the matter taken up in this way, dreading47 lest he should have brought every one into trouble and be viewed as an informer.
“What evidence have you of such intentions?”
John looked into his hat and shuffled48 on his foot, and Captain Carbonel, who knew that Sir Harry49 Hartman, the old gentleman, was persuaded that Delafield was the place to protect, was in an agony lest John should be too awkward and too anxious to shield his family to convince him. He ventured to translate the words into “How do you know?”
His voice somehow made John feel that he must speak, and he said, “Aunt heard it.”
“What’s that? Who is aunt?” said Sir Harry, in a tone as if deciding that it was gossip; but this put John rather more on his mettle50, and he said, “My aunt, Judith Grey, sir.”
“How did she hear?”
“Through the window. She heard them laying it out.”
“She is bedridden,” put in the captain; “but a clever, sensible woman.”
“Whom did she hear or see?”
“She couldn’t see nobody, sir. It was a strange voice,” John was trying to save the truth.
“Oh! and what did she hear?”
“They was planning to go round the place and call up the men—that’s to-day,” said John.
“Are you sure it was to-day? Did she tell you she heard it?”
“Yes, sir. And,” John bethought him, “there was a great row going on at the ‘Fox and Hounds,’ and when I came past Poppleby, a whole lot of them come out singing ‘Down with the machines.’”
“That’s more like it, if it was not a mere51 drunken uproar,” said Sir Harry.
“I suppose you did not know any of the voices?” said one of the other gentlemen.
John could hold his tongue this time. “And you came all this way by night, twenty miles and odd, to warn Captain Carbonel, on your aunt’s information?” said Sir Harry, thoughtfully. “Are you sure that she could hear distinctly?”
“One can hear in her room talk in our garden as well as if it was in the room,” replied John.
“Well! you are a good lad, well intentioned,” said Sir Harry. “Here’s half-a-crown to pay your journey back. We will consider what is to be done.”
John had rather not have taken the half-crown, but he did not know how to say so, so he pulled his forelock and accepted it.
Captain Carbonel came out of the coffee-room with him, and called to the hostler to let him lie down and rest for a couple of hours, when the Red Rover would change horses there, and then call him, and pay for his journey back to Poppleby.
So John lay down on clean straw and slept, too much tired out to put thoughts together, and unaware52 of the discussion among the gentlemen. For Sir Harry Hartman was persuaded that it was Delafield that needed protection, and was inclined to make little of John Hewlett’s warning, thinking that it rested on the authority of a sick nervous woman, and that there was no distinct evidence but that of the young man who would not speak out, and only went by hearsay53.
Captain Carbonel, who was, of course, in an agony to get home and defend his property, but was firmly bound by his notions of discipline, argued that the lad was the son of the most disaffected54 man in the parish, and that his silence was testimony55 to the likelihood that his father was consulting with the ringleader. The invalid56 woman he knew to be sensible and prudent57, and most unlikely either to mistake what she heard, or to send her nephew on such a night journey without urgent cause, and he asked permission to go himself, if the troop were wanted elsewhere, to defend his home. Finally, just as the debate was warming between the officers, a farmer came in from Delafield, and assured them that all was quiet there. So the horses were brought out, and there was much jingling58 of equipments, and Johnnie awoke with a start of dismay. He had never thought of such doings. He had only thought of Captain Carbonel’s riding home, never of bringing down what seemed to him a whole army on his father.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
lengthen
|
|
| vt.使伸长，延长 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
shutters
|
|
| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
silhouette
|
|
| n.黑色半身侧面影，影子，轮廓；v.描绘成侧面影，照出影子来，仅仅显出轮廓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
alleys
|
|
| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
apprentice
|
|
| n.学徒，徒弟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
bespeak
|
|
| v.预定；预先请求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
superciliously
|
|
| adv.高傲地；傲慢地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
battered
|
|
| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
bonnet
|
|
| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
apron
|
|
| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
tavern
|
|
| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
curiously
|
|
| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
jack
|
|
| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
puffed
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
heed
|
|
| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
pinnacles
|
|
| 顶峰( pinnacle的名词复数 )； 顶点； 尖顶； 小尖塔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
mouldered
|
|
| v.腐朽( moulder的过去式和过去分词 )；腐烂，崩塌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
spiring
|
|
| v.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
doorway
|
|
| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
slate
|
|
| n.板岩，石板，石片，石板色，候选人名单；adj.暗蓝灰色的，含板岩的；vt.用石板覆盖，痛打，提名，预订 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
implored
|
|
| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
shrug
|
|
| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
hips
|
|
| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
growled
|
|
| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
impudent
|
|
| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
larking
|
|
| v.百灵科鸟（尤指云雀）( lark的现在分词 )；一大早就起床；鸡鸣即起；（因太费力而不想干时说）算了 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
mischief
|
|
| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
sneered
|
|
| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
disconsolately
|
|
| adv.悲伤地，愁闷地；哭丧着脸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
unwilling
|
|
| adj.不情愿的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
acting
|
|
| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
rumour
|
|
| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
fraught
|
|
| adj.充满…的，伴有(危险等)的；忧虑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
villains
|
|
| n.恶棍( villain的名词复数 )；罪犯；（小说、戏剧等中的）反面人物；淘气鬼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
hearty
|
|
| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
milestone
|
|
| n.里程碑；划时代的事件 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
luncheon
|
|
| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
ushered
|
|
| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
dignified
|
|
| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
mumbled
|
|
| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
lout
|
|
| n.粗鄙的人；举止粗鲁的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
dreading
|
|
| v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
shuffled
|
|
| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
harry
|
|
| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
mettle
|
|
| n.勇气，精神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
unaware
|
|
| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
hearsay
|
|
| n.谣传，风闻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
disaffected
|
|
| adj.（政治上）不满的，叛离的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
testimony
|
|
| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
invalid
|
|
| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
prudent
|
|
| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
jingling
|
|
| 叮当声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |