He awoke. With a sensation of most blissful rest, better than sleep itself, he began gradually to remember something of these sufferings, and to think what a long night it had been, and whether he had not been delirious13 twice or thrice. Happening, in the midst of these cogitations, to raise his hand, he was astonished to find how heavy it seemed, and yet how thin and light it really was. Still, he felt indifferent and happy; and having no curiosity to pursue the subject, remained in the same waking slumber until his attention was attracted by a cough. This made him doubt whether he had locked his door last night, and feel a little surprised at having a companion in the room. Still, he lacked energy to follow up this train of thought; and unconsciously fell, in a luxury of repose, to staring at some green stripes on the bed-furniture, and associating them strangely with patches of fresh turf, while the yellow ground between made gravel-walks, and so helped out a long perspective of trim gardens.
He was rambling in imagination on these terraces, and had quite lost himself among them indeed, when he heard the cough once more. The walks shrunk into stripes again at the sound, and raising himself a little in the bed, and holding the curtain open with one hand, he looked out.
The same room certainly, and still by candlelight; but with what unbounded astonishment14 did he see all those bottles, and basins, and articles of linen15 airing by the fire, and such-like furniture of a sick chamber16 — all very clean and neat, but all quite different from anything he had left there, when he went to bed! The atmosphere, too, filled with a cool smell of herbs and vinegar; the floor newly sprinkled; the — the what? The Marchioness?
Yes; playing cribbage with herself at the table. There she sat, intent upon her game, coughing now and then in a subdued17 manner as if she feared to disturb him — shuffling18 the cards, cutting, dealing19, playing, counting, pegging20 — going through all the mysteries of cribbage as if she had been in full practice from her cradle! Mr Swiveller contemplated21 these things for a short time, and suffering the curtain to fall into its former position, laid his head on the pillow again.
‘I’m dreaming,’ thought Richard, ‘that’s clear. When I went to bed, my hands were not made of egg-shells; and now I can almost see through ’em. If this is not a dream, I have woke up, by mistake, in an Arabian Night, instead of a London one. But I have no doubt I’m asleep. Not the least.’
Here the small servant had another cough.
‘Very remarkable22!’ thought Mr Swiveller. ‘I never dreamt such a real cough as that before. I don’t know, indeed, that I ever dreamt either a cough or a sneeze. Perhaps it’s part of the philosophy of dreams that one never does. There’s another — and another — I say! — I’m dreaming rather fast!’
For the purpose of testing his real condition, Mr Swiveller, after some reflection, pinched himself in the arm.
‘Queerer still!’ he thought. ‘I came to bed rather plump than otherwise, and now there’s nothing to lay hold of. I’ll take another survey.’
The result of this additional inspection23 was, to convince Mr Swiveller that the objects by which he was surrounded were real, and that he saw them, beyond all question, with his waking eyes.
‘It’s an Arabian Night; that’s what it is,’ said Richard. ‘I’m in Damascus or Grand Cairo. The Marchioness is a Genie24, and having had a wager25 with another Genie about who is the handsomest young man alive, and the worthiest26 to be the husband of the Princess of China, has brought me away, room and all, to compare us together. Perhaps,’ said Mr Swiveller, turning languidly round on his pillow, and looking on that side of his bed which was next the wall, ‘the Princess may be still — No, she’s gone.’
Not feeling quite satisfied with this explanation, as, even taking it to be the correct one, it still involved a little mystery and doubt, Mr Swiveller raised the curtain again, determined27 to take the first favourable28 opportunity of addressing his companion. An occasion presented itself. The Marchioness dealt, turned up a knave29, and omitted to take the usual advantage; upon which Mr Swiveller called out as loud as he could —‘Two for his heels!’
The Marchioness jumped up quickly and clapped her hands. ‘Arabian Night, certainly,’ thought Mr Swiveller; ‘they always clap their hands instead of ringing the bell. Now for the two thousand black slaves, with jars of jewels on their heads!’
It appeared, however, that she had only clapped her hands for joy; for directly afterward30 she began to laugh, and then to cry; declaring, not in choice Arabic but in familiar English, that she was ‘so glad, she didn’t know what to do.’
‘Marchioness,’ said Mr Swiveller, thoughtfully, ‘be pleased to draw nearer. First of all, will you have the goodness to inform me where I shall find my voice; and secondly31, what has become of my flesh?’
The Marchioness only shook her head mournfully, and cried again; whereupon Mr Swiveller (being very weak) felt his own eyes affected32 likewise.
‘I begin to infer, from your manner, and these appearances, Marchioness,’ said Richard after a pause, and smiling with a trembling lip, ‘that I have been ill.’
‘You just have!’ replied the small servant, wiping her eyes. ‘And haven’t you been a talking nonsense!’
‘Oh!’ said Dick. ‘Very ill, Marchioness, have I been?’
‘Dead, all but,’ replied the small servant. ‘I never thought you’d get better. Thank Heaven you have!’
Mr Swiveller was silent for a long while. By and bye, he began to talk again, inquiring how long he had been there.
‘Three weeks to-morrow,’ replied the servant.
‘Three what?’ said Dick.
‘Weeks,’ returned the Marchioness emphatically; ‘three long, slow weeks.’
The bare thought of having been in such extremity33, caused Richard to fall into another silence, and to lie flat down again, at his full length. The Marchioness, having arranged the bed-clothes more comfortably, and felt that his hands and forehead were quite cool — a discovery that filled her with delight — cried a little more, and then applied34 herself to getting tea ready, and making some thin dry toast.
While she was thus engaged, Mr Swiveller looked on with a grateful heart, very much astonished to see how thoroughly35 at home she made herself, and attributing this attention, in its origin, to Sally Brass36, whom, in his own mind, he could not thank enough. When the Marchioness had finished her toasting, she spread a clean cloth on a tray, and brought him some crisp slices and a great basin of weak tea, with which (she said) the doctor had left word he might refresh himself when he awoke. She propped37 him up with pillows, if not as skilfully38 as if she had been a professional nurse all her life, at least as tenderly; and looked on with unutterable satisfaction while the patient — stopping every now and then to shake her by the hand — took his poor meal with an appetite and relish39, which the greatest dainties of the earth, under any other circumstances, would have failed to provoke. Having cleared away, and disposed everything comfortably about him again, she sat down at the table to take her own tea.
‘Marchioness,’ said Mr Swiveller, ‘how’s Sally?’
The small servant screwed her face into an expression of the very uttermost entanglement40 of slyness, and shook her head.
‘What, haven’t you seen her lately?’ said Dick.
‘Seen her!’ cried the small servant. ‘Bless you, I’ve run away!’
Mr Swiveller immediately laid himself down again quite flat, and so remained for about five minutes. By slow degrees he resumed his sitting posture after that lapse41 of time, and inquired:
‘And where do you live, Marchioness?’
‘Live!’ cried the small servant. ‘Here!’
‘Oh!’ said Mr Swiveller.
And with that he fell down flat again, as suddenly as if he had been shot. Thus he remained, motionless and bereft42 of speech, until she had finished her meal, put everything in its place, and swept the hearth43; when he motioned her to bring a chair to the bedside, and, being propped up again, opened a farther conversation.
‘And so,’ said Dick, ‘you have run away?’
‘Yes,’ said the Marchioness, ‘and they’ve been a tizing of me.’
‘Been — I beg your pardon,’ said Dick —‘what have they been doing?’
‘Been a tizing of me — tizing you know — in the newspapers,’ rejoined the Marchioness.
‘Aye, aye,’ said Dick, ‘advertising?’
The small servant nodded, and winked44. Her eyes were so red with waking and crying, that the Tragic45 Muse46 might have winked with greater consistency47. And so Dick felt.
‘Tell me,’ said he, ‘how it was that you thought of coming here.’
‘Why, you see,’ returned the Marchioness, ‘when you was gone, I hadn’t any friend at all, because the lodger48 he never come back, and I didn’t know where either him or you was to be found, you know. But one morning, when I was–’
‘Was near a keyhole?’ suggested Mr Swiveller, observing that she faltered49.
‘Well then,’ said the small servant, nodding; ‘when I was near the office keyhole — as you see me through, you know — I heard somebody saying that she lived here, and was the lady whose house you lodged50 at, and that you was took very bad, and wouldn’t nobody come and take care of you. Mr Brass, he says, “It’s no business of mine,” he says; and Miss Sally, she says, “He’s a funny chap, but it’s no business of mine;” and the lady went away, and slammed the door to, when she went out, I can tell you. So I run away that night, and come here, and told ’em you was my brother, and they believed me, and I’ve been here ever since.’
‘This poor little Marchioness has been wearing herself to death!’ cried Dick.
‘No I haven’t,’ she returned, ‘not a bit of it. Don’t you mind about me. I like sitting up, and I’ve often had a sleep, bless you, in one of them chairs. But if you could have seen how you tried to jump out o’ winder, and if you could have heard how you used to keep on singing and making speeches, you wouldn’t have believed it — I’m so glad you’re better, Mr Liverer.’
‘Liverer indeed!’ said Dick thoughtfully. ‘It’s well I am a liverer. I strongly suspect I should have died, Marchioness, but for you.’
At this point, Mr Swiveller took the small servant’s hand in his again, and being, as we have seen, but poorly, might in struggling to express his thanks have made his eyes as red as hers, but that she quickly changed the theme by making him lie down, and urging him to keep very quiet.
‘The doctor,’ she told him, ‘said you was to be kept quite still, and there was to be no noise nor nothing. Now, take a rest, and then we’ll talk again. I’ll sit by you, you know. If you shut your eyes, perhaps you’ll go to sleep. You’ll be all the better for it, if you do.’
The Marchioness, in saying these words, brought a little table to the bedside, took her seat at it, and began to work away at the concoction51 of some cooling drink, with the address of a score of chemists. Richard Swiveller being indeed fatigued52, fell into a slumber, and waking in about half an hour, inquired what time it was.
‘Just gone half after six,’ replied his small friend, helping53 him to sit up again.
‘Marchioness,’ said Richard, passing his hand over his forehead and turning suddenly round, as though the subject but that moment flashed upon him, ‘what has become of Kit54?’
He had been sentenced to transportation for a great many years, she said.
‘Has he gone?’ asked Dick —‘his mother — how is she — what has become of her?’
His nurse shook her head, and answered that she knew nothing about them. ‘But, if I thought,’ said she, very slowly, ‘that you’d keep quiet, and not put yourself into another fever, I could tell you — but I won’t now.’
‘Yes, do,’ said Dick. ‘It will amuse me.’
‘Oh! would it though!’ rejoined the small servant, with a horrified55 look. ‘I know better than that. Wait till you’re better and then I’ll tell you.’
Dick looked very earnestly at his little friend: and his eyes, being large and hollow from illness, assisted the expression so much, that she was quite frightened, and besought56 him not to think any more about it. What had already fallen from her, however, had not only piqued57 his curiosity, but seriously alarmed him, wherefore he urged her to tell him the worst at once.
‘Oh there’s no worst in it,’ said the small servant. ‘It hasn’t anything to do with you.’
‘Has it anything to do with — is it anything you heard through chinks or keyholes — and that you were not intended to hear?’ asked Dick, in a breathless state.
‘Yes,’ replied the small servant.
‘In — in Bevis Marks?’ pursued Dick hastily. ‘Conversations between Brass and Sally?’
‘Yes,’ cried the small servant again.
Richard Swiveller thrust his lank58 arm out of bed, and, gripping her by the wrist and drawing her close to him, bade her out with it, and freely too, or he would not answer for the consequences; being wholly unable to endure the state of excitement and expectation. She, seeing that he was greatly agitated59, and that the effects of postponing60 her revelation might be much more injurious than any that were likely to ensue from its being made at once, promised compliance61, on condition that the patient kept himself perfectly62 quiet, and abstained63 from starting up or tossing about.
‘But if you begin to do that,’ said the small servant, ‘I’ll leave off. And so I tell you.’
‘You can’t leave off, till you have gone on,’ said Dick. ‘And do go on, there’s a darling. Speak, sister, speak. Pretty Polly say. Oh tell me when, and tell me where, pray Marchioness, I beseech64 you!’
Unable to resist these fervent65 adjurations, which Richard Swiveller poured out as passionately66 as if they had been of the most solemn and tremendous nature, his companion spoke67 thus:
‘Well! Before I run away, I used to sleep in the kitchen — where we played cards, you know. Miss Sally used to keep the key of the kitchen door in her pocket, and she always come down at night to take away the candle and rake out the fire. When she had done that, she left me to go to bed in the dark, locked the door on the outside, put the key in her pocket again, and kept me locked up till she come down in the morning — very early I can tell you — and let me out. I was terrible afraid of being kept like this, because if there was a fire, I thought they might forget me and only take care of themselves you know. So, whenever I see an old rusty68 key anywhere, I picked it up and tried if it would fit the door, and at last I found in the dust cellar a key that did fit it.’
Here, Mr Swiveller made a violent demonstration69 with his legs. But the small servant immediately pausing in her talk, he subsided70 again, and pleading a momentary71 forgetfulness of their compact, entreated72 her to proceed.
‘They kept me very short,’ said the small servant. ‘Oh! you can’t think how short they kept me! So I used to come out at night after they’d gone to bed, and feel about in the dark for bits of biscuit, or sangwitches that you’d left in the office, or even pieces of orange peel to put into cold water and make believe it was wine. Did you ever taste orange peel and water?’
Mr Swiveller replied that he had never tasted that ardent73 liquor; and once more urged his friend to resume the thread of her narrative74.
‘If you make believe very much, it’s quite nice,’ said the small servant, ‘but if you don’t, you know, it seems as if it would bear a little more seasoning75, certainly. Well, sometimes I used to come out after they’d gone to bed, and sometimes before, you know; and one or two nights before there was all that precious noise in the office — when the young man was took, I mean — I come upstairs while Mr Brass and Miss Sally was a-sittin’ at the office fire; and I tell you the truth, that I come to listen again, about the key of the safe.’
Mr Swiveller gathered up his knees so as to make a great cone76 of the bedclothes, and conveyed into his countenance77 an expression of the utmost concern. But the small servant pausing, and holding up her finger, the cone gently disappeared, though the look of concern did not.
‘There was him and her,’ said the small servant, ‘a-sittin’ by the fire, and talking softly together. Mr Brass says to Miss Sally, “Upon my word,” he says “it’s a dangerous thing, and it might get us into a world of trouble, and I don’t half like it.” She says — you know her way — she says, “You’re the chickenest-hearted, feeblest, faintest man I ever see, and I think,” she says, “that I ought to have been the brother, and you the sister. Isn’t Quilp,” she says, “our principal support?” “He certainly is,” says Mr Brass, “And an’t we,” she says, “constantly ruining somebody or other in the way of business?” “We certainly are,” says Mr Brass. “Then does it signify,” she says, “about ruining this Kit when Quilp desires it?” “It certainly does not signify,” says Mr Brass. Then they whispered and laughed for a long time about there being no danger if it was well done, and then Mr Brass pulls out his pocket-book, and says, “Well,” he says, ‘here it is — Quilp’s own five-pound note. We’ll agree that way, then,” he says. “Kit’s coming to-morrow morning, I know. While he’s up-stairs, you’ll get out of the way, and I’ll clear off Mr Richard. Having Kit alone, I’ll hold him in conversation, and put this property in his hat. I’ll manage so, besides,” he says, ‘that Mr Richard shall find it there, and be the evidence. And if that don’t get Christopher out of Mr Quilp’s way, and satisfy Mr Quilp’s grudges,” he says, “the Devil’s in it.” Miss Sally laughed, and said that was the plan, and as they seemed to be moving away, and I was afraid to stop any longer, I went down-stairs again. — There!’
The small servant had gradually worked herself into as much agitation78 as Mr Swiveller, and therefore made no effort to restrain him when he sat up in bed and hastily demanded whether this story had been told to anybody.
‘How could it be?’ replied his nurse. ‘I was almost afraid to think about it, and hoped the young man would be let off. When I heard ’em say they had found him guilty of what he didn’t do, you was gone, and so was the lodger — though I think I should have been frightened to tell him, even if he’d been there. Ever since I come here, you’ve been out of your senses, and what would have been the good of telling you then?’
‘Marchioness,’ said Mr Swiveller, plucking off his nightcap and flinging it to the other end of the room; ‘if you’ll do me the favour to retire for a few minutes and see what sort of a night it is, I’ll get up.’
‘You mustn’t think of such a thing,’ cried his nurse.
‘I must indeed,’ said the patient, looking round the room. ‘Whereabouts are my clothes?’
‘Oh, I’m so glad — you haven’t got any,’ replied the Marchioness.
‘Ma’am!’ said Mr Swiveller, in great astonishment.
‘I’ve been obliged to sell them, every one, to get the things that was ordered for you. But don’t take on about that,’ urged the Marchioness, as Dick fell back upon his pillow. ‘You’re too weak to stand, indeed.’
‘I am afraid,’ said Richard dolefully, ‘that you’re right. What ought I to do! what is to be done!’
It naturally occurred to him on very little reflection, that the first step to take would be to communicate with one of the Mr Garlands instantly. It was very possible that Mr Abel had not yet left the office. In as little time as it takes to tell it, the small servant had the address in pencil on a piece of paper; a verbal description of father and son, which would enable her to recognise either, without difficulty; and a special caution to be shy of Mr Chuckster, in consequence of that gentleman’s known antipathy79 to Kit. Armed with these slender powers, she hurried away, commissioned to bring either old Mr Garland or Mr Abel, bodily, to that apartment.
‘I suppose,’ said Dick, as she closed the door slowly, and peeped into the room again, to make sure that he was comfortable, ‘I suppose there’s nothing left — not so much as a waistcoat even?’
‘No, nothing.’
‘It’s embarrassing,’ said Mr Swiveller, ‘in case of fire — even an umbrella would be something — but you did quite right, dear Marchioness. I should have died without you!’
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1
tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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appease
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| v.安抚，缓和，平息，满足 | |
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posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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rambling
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| adj.[建]凌乱的，杂乱的 | |
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refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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undone
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| a.未做完的，未完成的 | |
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surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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delirious
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| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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pegging
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| n.外汇钉住，固定证券价格v.用夹子或钉子固定( peg的现在分词 )；使固定在某水平 | |
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contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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genie
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| n.妖怪，神怪 | |
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wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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worthiest
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| 应得某事物( worthy的最高级 )； 值得做某事； 可尊敬的； 有（某人或事物）的典型特征 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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knave
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| n.流氓；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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secondly
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| adv.第二，其次 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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skilfully
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| adv. (美skillfully)熟练地 | |
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relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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entanglement
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| n.纠缠，牵累 | |
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lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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bereft
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| adj.被剥夺的 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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muse
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| n.缪斯（希腊神话中的女神），创作灵感 | |
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consistency
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| n.一贯性，前后一致，稳定性；(液体的)浓度 | |
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lodger
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| n.寄宿人，房客 | |
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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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lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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concoction
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| n.调配(物)；谎言 | |
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fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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kit
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| n.用具包，成套工具；随身携带物 | |
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horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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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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piqued
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| v.伤害…的自尊心( pique的过去式和过去分词 )；激起（好奇心） | |
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lank
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| adj.瘦削的；稀疏的 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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postponing
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| v.延期，推迟( postpone的现在分词 ) | |
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compliance
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| n.顺从；服从；附和；屈从 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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abstained
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| v.戒（尤指酒），戒除( abstain的过去式和过去分词 )；弃权（不投票） | |
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beseech
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| v.祈求，恳求 | |
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fervent
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| adj.热的，热烈的，热情的 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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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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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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entreated
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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seasoning
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| n.调味；调味料；增添趣味之物 | |
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cone
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| n.圆锥体，圆锥形东西，球果 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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antipathy
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| n.憎恶；反感，引起反感的人或事物 | |
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