Old Proverb.
This story begins on a fine autumn afternoon when, at the end of a field over which the shadows of a few wayside trees were stalking like long thin giants, a man and a boy sat side by side upon a stile. They were not a happy-looking pair. The boy looked uncomfortable, because he wanted to get away and dared not go. The man looked uncomfortable also; but then no one had ever seen him look otherwise, which was the more strange as he never professed1 to have any object in life but his own pleasure and gratification. Not troubling himself with any consideration of law or principle—of his own duty or other people's comfort—he had consistently spent his whole time and energies in trying to be jolly; and though now a grown-up young man, had so far [189]had every appearance of failing in the attempt. From this it will be seen that he was not the most estimable of characters, and we shall have no more to do with him than we can help; but as he must appear in the story, he may as well be described.
If constant self-indulgence had answered as well as it should have done, he would have been a fine-looking young man; as it was, the habits of his life were fast destroying his appearance. His hair would have been golden if it had been kept clean. His figure was tall and strong; but the custom of slinking about places where he had no business to be, and lounging in corners where he had nothing to do, had given it such a hopeless slouch that for the matter of beauty he might almost as well have been knock-kneed. His eyes would have been handsome if the lids had been less red; and if he had ever looked you in the face, you would have seen that they were blue. His complexion2 was fair by nature and discoloured by drink. His manner was something between a sneak3 and a swagger, and he generally wore his cap a-one-side, carried his hands in his pockets and a short stick under his arm, and whistled when any one passed him. His chief characteristic, perhaps, was the habit he had of kicking. Indoors he kicked the furniture, in the road he kicked the stones, if he lounged against a wall he kicked it; he [190]kicked all animals and such human beings as he felt sure would not kick him again.
It should be said here that he had once announced his intention of "turning steady, and settling, and getting wed4." The object of his choice was the prettiest girl in the village, and was as good as she was pretty. To say the truth, the time had been when Bessy had not felt unkindly towards the yellow-haired lad; but his conduct had long put a gulf5 between them, which only the conceit6 of a scamp would have attempted to pass. However, he flattered himself that he "knew what the lasses meant when they said no;" and on the strength of this knowledge he presumed far enough to elicit7 a rebuff so hearty8 and unmistakable that for a week he was the laughing stock of the village. There was no mistake this time as to what "no" meant; his admiration9 turned to a hatred10 almost as intense, and he went faster "to the bad" than ever.
It was Bessy's little brother who sat by him on the stile; "Beauty Bill," as he was called, from the large share he possessed11 of the family good looks. The lad was one of those people who seem born to be favourites. He was handsome, and merry, and intelligent; and, being well brought up, was well-conducted and amiable—the pride and pet of the village. Why did Mother Muggins of the shop let [191]the goody side of her scales of justice drop the lower by one lollipop12 for Bill than for any other lad, and exempt13 him by unwonted smiles from her general anathema14 on the urchin15 race? There were other honest boys in the parish, who paid for their treacle-sticks in sterling16 copper17 of the realm! The very roughs of the village were proud of him, and would have showed their good nature in ways little to his benefit had not his father kept a somewhat severe watch upon his habits and conduct. Indeed, good parents and a strict home counterbalanced the evils of popularity with Beauty Bill, and, on the whole, he was little spoilt, and well deserved the favour he met with. It was under cover of friendly patronage18 that his companion was now detaining him; but, all the circumstances considered, Bill felt more suspicious than gratified, and wished Bully19 Tom anywhere but where he was.
"Night school's opened, eh?" he inquired; and back swung the pendulum against Bill's shins.
"Yes;" and the boy screwed his legs on one side.
"You don't go, do you?"
"Yes, I do," said Bill, trying not to feel ashamed of the fact, "Father can't spare me to the day-[192]school now, so our Bessy persuaded him to let me go at nights."
Bully Tom's face looked a shade darker, and the pendulum took a swing which it was fortunate the lad avoided; but the conversation continued with every appearance of civility.
"You come back by Yew-lane, I suppose?"
"Yes."
"Why, there's no one lives your way but old Johnson; you must come back alone?"
"It must be dark now before school looses?" was the next inquiry22; and the boy's discomfort23 increased, he hardly knew why, as he answered—
"There's a moon."
"So there is," said Bully Tom, in a tone of polite assent24; "and there's a weathercock on the church-steeple but I never heard of either of 'em coming down to help a body, whatever happened."
Bill's discomfort had become alarm.
"Why, what could happen?" he asked. "I don't understand you."
His companion whistled, looked up in the air, and kicked vigorously, but said nothing. Bill was not extraordinarily25 brave, but he had a fair amount both of spirit and sense; and having a shrewd[193] suspicion that Bully Tom was trying to frighten him, he almost made up his mind to run off then and there. Curiosity, however, and a vague alarm which he could not throw off, made him stay for a little more information.
"I wish you'd out with it!" he exclaimed, impatiently. "What could happen? No one ever comes along Yew-lane; and if they did they wouldn't hurt me."
"I know no one ever comes near it when they can help it," was the reply; "so, to be sure, you couldn't get set upon. And a pious26 lad of your sort wouldn't mind no other kind. Not like ghosts, or anything of that."
And Bully Tom looked round at his companion; a fact disagreeable from its rarity.
"Of course you don't," sneered28 his tormentor29; "you're too well educated. Some people does, though. I suppose them that has seen them does. Some people thinks that murdered men walk. P'raps some people thinks the man as was murdered in Yew-lane walks."
"Him that was riding by the cross-roads and dragged into Yew-lane, and his head cut off and never found, and his body buried in the churchyard," said[194] Bully Tom, with a rush of superior information; "and all I know is, if I thought he walked in Yew-lane, or any other lane, I wouldn't go within five mile of it after dusk—that's all. But then I'm not book-larned."
The two last statements were true if nothing else was that the man had said; and after holding up his feet and examining his boots with his head a-one-side, as if considering their probable efficiency against flesh and blood, he slid from his perch33, and "loafed" slowly up the street, whistling and kicking the stones as he went along. As to Beauty Bill, he fled home as fast as his legs would carry him. By the door stood Bessy, washing some clothes; who turned her pretty face as he came up.
"You're late, Bill," she said. "Go in and get your tea, it's set out. It's night-school night, thou knows, and Master Arthur always likes his class to time." He lingered, and she continued—"John Gardener was down this afternoon about some potatoes, and he says Master Arthur is expecting a friend."
Bill did not heed34 this piece of news, any more than the slight flush on his sister's face as she delivered it; he was wondering whether what Bully Tom said was mere35 invention to frighten him, or whether there was any truth in it.
"Bessy!" he said, "was there a man ever murdered in Yew-lane?"
[195]
Bessy was occupied with her own thoughts, and did not notice the anxiety of the question.
"I believe there was," she answered carelessly, "somewhere about there. It's a hundred years ago or more. There's an old gravestone over him in the churchyard by the wall, with an odd verse on it. They say the parish clerk wrote it. But get your tea, or you'll be late, and father'll be angry;" and Bessy took up her tub and departed.
Poor Bill! Then it was too true. He began to pull up his trousers and look at his grazed legs; and the thoughts of his aching shins, Bully Tom's cruelty, the unavoidable night-school, and the possible ghost, were too much for him, and he burst into tears.
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1
professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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3
sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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wed
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| v.娶，嫁，与…结婚 | |
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gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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conceit
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| n.自负，自高自大 | |
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7
elicit
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| v.引出,抽出,引起 | |
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8
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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10
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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11
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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lollipop
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| n.棒棒糖 | |
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exempt
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| adj.免除的；v.使免除；n.免税者，被免除义务者 | |
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14
anathema
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| n.诅咒；被诅咒的人(物)，十分讨厌的人(物) | |
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15
urchin
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| n.顽童；海胆 | |
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16
sterling
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| adj.英币的(纯粹的，货真价实的)；n.英国货币(英镑) | |
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17
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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18
patronage
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| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
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19
bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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pendulum
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| n.摆，钟摆 | |
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21
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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22
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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23
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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24
assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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extraordinarily
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| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
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pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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28
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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29
tormentor
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| n. 使苦痛之人, 使苦恼之物, 侧幕 =tormenter | |
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30
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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31
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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33
perch
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| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
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34
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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35
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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