He trudged1 along, unknowing what he sought, And whistled as he went, for want of thought. -- DRYDEN. CHAPTER VIII. MR. FLINT IS PERFECTLY2 ASTONISHED, AND MORTIMER HAS A VISION
The Light Heart--A Scene--The Sunny Heart--A Dream of Little Bell--A Hint.
Now that Mortimer Walters had destroyed the record of poor Snarle's guilt3, he determined4 to be no longer a subject of Flint's authority. He had watched for months for an opportunity to become possessed5 of the forged cheque; and it was with a heart as light as a singing bird's that he tripped up the office stairs an hour before his time the next morning. Tim was sweeping6 out. Sleep had left no cobwebs in his young eyes; but when he saw Mortimer throw open the office door, humming a light-hearted air, he rubbed his eyelids7 with the sleeve of his dusty coat, as if it were a question in his mind whether or not he was dreaming. "My last day here!" said Mortimer gaily8 to himself. "Weary, tiresome9 old books! my soul has grown sick over you for the last time." He brushed the dust from off the dull-looking ledger10, and went to work. "Won't I astonish him?" he thought, looking up; and he laughed so pleasantly that Tim, who was sweeping the rubbish into a dust-pan, suspended operations, and expressed his surprise in a somewhat dubious11 ejaculation: "I vum!" When Mr. Flint came in, he saw the same tall form bending over the accustomed desk that had met his eyes every morning for the last ten years; but he did not see the heart that was leaping with new life. And when, in his usual snarly12 way, he gave Mortimer orders to make up certain invoices13, which would have employed the clerk till midnight, he opened a brief conversation which ended in his utter amazement14. "You will render Bowen & Cleet their account current, and make up the pork sale; it has been standing15 open long enough. And," added Mr. Flint, "fill up bills of lading for the D. D. coffee." "I don't think I will," was the quiet reply. Mr. Flint did not believe his ears. "Mr. Walters!" "Mr. Flint." "You will fill up those bills of lading immediately." "I won't!" plumply. This caused Mr. Flint to sink in a chair with astonishment16; and Mortimer went on writing. "Did you say that you wouldn't?" asked Mr. Flint, looking at him. "Yes, sir." "You did!" "My year," said Mortimer, leisurely17, "expires to-day, and with it, I am happy to state, my connection with Flint & Snarle." Mr. Flint hunted twenty seconds for his lost voice. "You insolent----" "Sir!" cried Mortimer, turning to him abruptly18, "until now I have borne your tyranny with meekness19. We are no longer employer and clerk. We are man and man, with the advantage on my side. If you apply an insulting epithet20 to me, I shall pull your ears!" O Tim, how you rubbed your hands, you little villain21! How your limbs seemed to be receiving a series of galvanic shocks from an invisible battery! How your eyes sparkled, and your proclivity22 for fight got uppermost, till you cried out, "Pitch into him, old boy!" "Go!" hissed23 Flint, through his closed teeth; "go!" that was all the word he could master. Mortimer passed out of the office. The genial24 sunshine slid from the house-tops, and fell under his feet; a thousand airy forms walked with him, and he felt their presence, though he could not see them. He wandered through the Park. April had breathed on the cold ground, and the green grass was springing up to welcome her. The leaves were unfolding themselves, and the air was full of spring. The fountain had thrown off its icy manacles, and leaped up with a sense of freedom. His dreamy eyes saw it all. The black shadows had fallen from him; he had left them with Flint; and a bright day had dawned within him and without him. Everything was tinged25 with iridescent26 light, for he looked at the world, as it were, through dew-drops. Happy morning--happy life! when one can put aside the trailing vines of painful memory, and let the warm sunshine of Heaven find its way into the heart. In this sunny mood he turned his way homeward. He passed Mrs. Snarle on the stairs with a smile; he heard Daisy singing in the sitting-room27; and he sat himself down in the yellow light which streamed through the window of his bedroom, making a hundred golden fancies on the worn carpet: "The shadows of the coming flowers! The phantoms28 of forget-me-nots, And roses red and sweet!" His eyes made pictures; his fancy inverted29 the hour-glass of his life, and the old sands ran back! He floated down the stream of time, instead of onward30. The sunshine grew deeper and broader, and filled the little room. Then it became condensed and brighter. Gradually it moulded itself into form, and little Bell, in her golden ringlets, stood at the side of Mortimer. Her white hand touched his shoulder, and he looked up--not in surprise, but with tenderness--with the air of a man who can gaze with unclouded eyes into the spiritual world and lose himself. "I knew you were near," he said, dreamily. "I thought you would come. You have something to tell me. What is it, my little Bell? Thus you stood at my side, thus you looked into my eyes, the day on which I told Daisy that I loved her. Thus you come to me whenever the current of my life changes, to love and advise me. What is it, Bell--dainty little Bell?" A sunny lip rested on his for a moment. "Be strong!" said little Bell. A cloud of sunlight floated around Mortimer, slipped down at his feet, and lost itself in the orange stream which flooded the window. "He is dreaming of Bell," said Daisy, as she bent31 over him--"dreaming of lost Bell!" And she closed the door after her softly. Then Mortimer's vision of sister Bell was a dream? Perhaps it was not. Perhaps this real world is linked more closely to the invisible sphere than in our guesses. It may be an angel's hand which touches our cheek, when we think that it is only the breeze. _?Quien sabe? Who can say that in sleep we do not touch hands with the spirits of another world--the angels of hereafter? And what may death be but an intellectual dream!--Who knows? Nobody knows. "But," suggests the gentle reader, "suppose you dispense32 with your Hamlet-like philosophy, and go on with your story, like the pleasant author that you are, instead of putting us to sleep, as you have your hero." Reader, the hint was merited.
点击收听单词发音
1 trudged | |
vt.& vi.跋涉,吃力地走(trudge的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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2 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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3 guilt | |
n.犯罪;内疚;过失,罪责 | |
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4 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
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5 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
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6 sweeping | |
adj.范围广大的,一扫无遗的 | |
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7 eyelids | |
n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 );眼睛也不眨一下;不露声色;面不改色 | |
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8 gaily | |
adv.欢乐地,高兴地 | |
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9 tiresome | |
adj.令人疲劳的,令人厌倦的 | |
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10 ledger | |
n.总帐,分类帐;帐簿 | |
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11 dubious | |
adj.怀疑的,无把握的;有问题的,靠不住的 | |
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12 snarly | |
adj.善于嚣叫的;脾气坏的;爱谩骂的;纠缠在一起的 | |
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13 invoices | |
发票( invoice的名词复数 ); (发货或服务)费用清单; 清单上货物的装运; 货物的托运 | |
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14 amazement | |
n.惊奇,惊讶 | |
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15 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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16 astonishment | |
n.惊奇,惊异 | |
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17 leisurely | |
adj.悠闲的;从容的,慢慢的 | |
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18 abruptly | |
adv.突然地,出其不意地 | |
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19 meekness | |
n.温顺,柔和 | |
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20 epithet | |
n.(用于褒贬人物等的)表述形容词,修饰语 | |
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21 villain | |
n.反派演员,反面人物;恶棍;问题的起因 | |
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22 proclivity | |
n.倾向,癖性 | |
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23 hissed | |
发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 ); 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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24 genial | |
adj.亲切的,和蔼的,愉快的,脾气好的 | |
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25 tinged | |
v.(使)发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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26 iridescent | |
adj.彩虹色的,闪色的 | |
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27 sitting-room | |
n.(BrE)客厅,起居室 | |
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28 phantoms | |
n.鬼怪,幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
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29 inverted | |
adj.反向的,倒转的v.使倒置,使反转( invert的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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30 onward | |
adj.向前的,前进的;adv.向前,前进,在先 | |
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31 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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32 dispense | |
vt.分配,分发;配(药),发(药);实施 | |
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