The man’s lameness4 was only a limp. It did not prevent him from walking very fast indeed. He was evidently bent5 on business; nevertheless, the business was not so pressing but that he could stop now and then to look at anything that interested him in the crowded streets.
And how crowded they were—and cheerful too: for it was Christmastide, and people seemed to be more excited and hearty6 than usual. The shops were resplendent—filled to overflowing7 with everything that could tempt8 man to spend money, and blazing with gas-light, so that the streets seemed even brighter than at noon. The poulterers’ shops, in particular, were so stuffed, that rows of fat geese and ducks, apparently9 finding the crush too much for them inside, seemed to have come outside the shops and hung themselves up round the doors and windows!
The lame man did not linger long, however, but hurried onwards until he reached that quarter of the city near to the Bank of England, where very poor and wretched people lived upon wondrously10 little of that gold which lay in such huge quantities so near them.
In the back slums of this region there were no bright gas-lights. The shops were ill-lighted and miserable11, like the population, except a few at the corners of streets, where rough men and ragged12 women, and even children, went to poison themselves with gin.
In one of the darkest and dirtiest of these streets the lame man found an open door and entered, taking off his greatcoat and shawl, which he handed to a pleasant-faced man who stood there.
“I’m in good time, I hope?” said the lame man.
“Oh yes, they’re on’y ’alf through their tea yet. Miss Home’s bin13 singin’ to ’em.”
The lame man’s body was very thin and not very strong, but his face was particularly handsome and grave, with a strange mingling14 of humour and sadness in his expression.
Opening an inner door, he entered a large schoolroom, and, going to the upper end of it, took his place behind some gentlemen, who nodded to him as he passed.
The room was filled with the very lowest classes of the London poor. Among them were ferocious-looking, dirty, ragged men, who might have been thieves, burglars, or pickpockets15. Not less disreputable-looking were the women and children. The air of the room smelt16 horribly of dirty clothes and drink. They were all very quiet, however, and well-behaved at the time, for all were busily engaged in eating splendid “hunks” of bread and cheese, and drinking huge mugsful of hot tea. Truly there are few quieters of the savage17 human breast equal to food! Probably all the people there were hungry; many of them had been starving, and were ravenous18. There was scarcely any sound except of moving jaws19, when, accompanied by a few chords from a harmonium, a sweet, mellow20, female voice told of the love of Jesus Christ to poor, perishing, guilty man.
Both the words and music of the hymn21 had a soothing22 influence on the people. When the calm contentment resulting from satisfied hunger had settled down on them, a gentleman rose, and, continuing the theme of the hymn, told his hearers earnestly about the Saviour23 of sinners. His address was very short, because, he said, a city missionary24—a personal friend—had come that night to speak to them. As he said this, he turned to the lame man, who rose at once and stood forward.
There was something in the gaze of this man’s piercing yet tender eyes which forced the attention of even the most careless among them. His handsome young face was very pale, and his lips were for a moment compressed, as if he were trying to keep back the words which were ready to rush out. When he spoke25, the soft tones of a deep bass26 voice helped to secure attention, so that you could have heard a pin drop.
At once the lame man launched into a most thrilling description of a scene of peril27 and rescue. He told of a gallant28 ship battling with a furious gale29: of her striking on a shoal: of the masts going over the side: of wreck30 and ruin all around, and the wild waves bursting over passengers and crew, and gradually breaking up the ship— “No hope—no hope—only cries for mercy—shrieks of despair!”
As the lame man spoke, his eyes seemed to flash. His cheeks were no longer pale. The rough men before him frowned and gazed as if their anxiety had been roused. The women leaned forward with eager looks of sympathy. Even the children were spellbound. One hulking fellow, with a broken nose and a black eye, sat clutching both knees with his muscular hands, and gazed open-mouthed and motionless at the speaker, who went on to say that when things were at their worst, and death stared the perishing people in the face, a beautiful object seemed suddenly to rise out of the raging sea; its colour was a mixture of pure white and bright blue!
It was the lifeboat, which sheered alongside and took them on board one by one.
“Some there were,” said the lame man impressively, “who hung back, and some who at first did not believe in the lifeboat, and refused to leave the doomed31 ship. There was no hope for those who refused—none whatever; but they gave in at last. God put it into their hearts to trust the lifeboat, and so the whole were rescued and brought in safety to the land.”
“Well done!” burst from the hulking man with the broken nose, and a deep sigh of relief escaped from many of the women; but there was instant silence again, for the speaker’s hand was up, his eyes were glittering, and his lips compressed. Every one knew that more was coming, and they bent forward.
Then, in a low soft voice, he began to tell of a dark but quiet night, and a slumbering32 city; of a little spark, which like sin in a child, was scarcely visible at first, but soon grew fierce and spread, until it burst out in all the fury of an unquenchable fire. He told of the alarm, the shouts of “Fire!” the rushing to the rescue, and the arrival of the engines and the fire-escape. Then he described the horror of a young woman in the burning house, who, awaking almost too late, found herself on the very edge of destruction, with the black smoke circling round and the impassable gulf33 of flame below. Just then the head of the fire-escape approached her, and a man with extended arms was seen a few feet below her, calling out, “Come!”
Like some of those in the shipwreck34, she did not at first believe in the fire-escape. She could not trust. She would not leap. While in that condition there was no hope for her, but God put it into her heart to trust. She leaped, and was saved!
The speaker stopped. Again there was a sigh of relief and a tendency to cheer on the part of the hulking man, but once more the sparkling eyes and compressed lips riveted35 the people and tied their tongues. In another moment the missionary had them on a battlefield, which he described with thrilling power, passing rapidly from the first bugle36 call through all the fight, until the foe37 was finally put to flight amid the shouts of “Victory!”
“Men and women,” he said in conclusion, “I am painting no fancy pictures. The things I have told to you did really happen, and four dear brothers of my own were chief actors in the scenes described. They helped to rescue the perishing from the sea and from the fire, and joined in the shout of Victory! on the battlefield. Now, friends, you are in a worse case than any I have yet described. The tempest of sin is roaring round and in you. This world is sinking beneath you, but Jesus Christ, our Lifeboat, is alongside. Will you come? The fire is burning under your very feet; there is no deliverance from the flames of God’s wrath38, except by the Great Escape. Jesus is at hand to save. Will you come? The battle is raging. Don’t you know it? Do you forget that awful combat with the tempter when you fought your way past the gin-shop, but were beaten and turned back? Or that terrible assault, when passion after a deadly struggle laid you helpless on your back? Oh! may God’s Holy Spirit open your eyes to see Jesus—the Captain of your Salvation—at your elbow this moment, waiting at the door of your heart and knocking till you will open and let Him in to lead you on to—Victory!”
Here the speaker dropped his voice again, and spoke tenderly of the love of Jesus to the chief of sinners, and as he spoke, tears were seen trickling39 down many a dirty face, and sobs40 broke the solemn stillness.
As the lame man was going home that night, a young girl ran after him and seized his arm. Her eyes were swollen41 with weeping.
“Oh, sir,” she cried in a low voice that trembled with emotion, “can—will—Jesus save the like of me?”
“Assuredly, my poor girl. He says ‘Come unto me,’ and ‘Whosoever will,’ let him come. If you are willing, there is no doubt about His willingness. The difficulty only lies with you, not with Him. Where do you live?”
“I have no home,” sobbed42 the girl; “I have run away from my home, and have no place to lay my head in here. But oh! sir, I want to be saved!”
The lame man looked with the deepest commiseration43 into the appealing eyes. “Come,” he said, “walk with me. I will tell you of One who had no place where to lay His head.”
She took his arm without a word, and the two hurried through the still crowded streets. Arrived at his own door, the lame man knocked. It was opened by a fair, soft, and exceedingly pretty little woman of about thirty years of age, whose fresh face was the very personification of goodness.
“Why, Jim!” she exclaimed, looking at the girl in surprise.
“Here we are, Molly,” exclaimed the lame man, bustling44 into a snug45 room in which a fire was blazing, and cheering preparations for tea were going on, “and I’ve brought a friend to spend the night with us. There’s plenty of room on your floor for a shake-down, eh? This is my sister,” he added turning to the girl, “Mary Thorogood, but we always call her Molly. She has come to visit me this Christmas—much against her will, I believe, she’s so fond of the old folk at home. Come now, take her into your room, Molly; make her comfortable, and then we’ll have tea.”
Molly took the girl into her room. Returning a moment later for something forgotten, she was touched on the shoulder by her brother, who whispered low in her ear:—
“A brand, Molly dear, plucked from the burning.”
Molly turned her eyes upon her brother with a glad smile as she re-entered her little room, and shut the door.
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1
lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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strand
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| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
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3
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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lameness
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| n. 跛, 瘸, 残废 | |
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5
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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7
overflowing
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| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
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8
tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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9
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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wondrously
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| adv.惊奇地，非常，极其 | |
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11
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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13
bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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14
mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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15
pickpockets
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| n.扒手( pickpocket的名词复数 ) | |
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16
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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17
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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ravenous
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| adj.极饿的，贪婪的 | |
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jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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saviour
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| n.拯救者，救星 | |
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missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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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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26
bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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27
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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28
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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29
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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30
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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31
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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slumbering
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的现在分词形式） | |
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gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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34
shipwreck
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| n.船舶失事，海难 | |
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35
riveted
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| 铆接( rivet的过去式和过去分词 )； 把…固定住； 吸引； 引起某人的注意 | |
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36
bugle
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| n.军号，号角，喇叭；v.吹号，吹号召集 | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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38
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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39
trickling
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| n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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40
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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41
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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42
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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43
commiseration
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| n.怜悯，同情 | |
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44
bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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45
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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