“When the heart is sick,
And all the wheels of Being slow.”
SEVEN leaden days had come and gone. To-night they said the little child would die or live. But the second would need almost a miracle.
All day the red signal had drooped1 out of a front upstairs window of Misrule. Five times had the children from the cottage trailed with sick hearts up the long red road to the house, and each time had that sorrowful signal been there.
Meg’s heart had bled as she floated it out in the morning; only that they had her faithful promise they should not be deceived, she could not have borne to put it there. “Not so well,” they had agreed it should mean, but her heart said “Dying” as she fastened it, and she knew the little anxious-eyed group at the gate would read it so.
239Such a tiny darling it was, such a wee frail2 body for the fierce fever to feed upon. How could it stretch out its little listless hands and grasp strongly at that strange thing Life that was slipping so fast away? And ah, God! that those standing3 by so wild with grief might not put out their eager hands and seize it for her!
After the fifth sad journey the children dragged to the cottage again and cried themselves sick. Poppet began. The minute they got inside the little front room she dropped down in a heap on the oilcloth and sobbed4 in a wild hysterical6 way that shook her poor little body all over. Peter fell down beside her and cried in the bitter, astonished, whole-souled fashion of very small children. And Bunty put his rough head down on the table with both his arms round it. Nellie walked past them all into her tiny bedroom, and only God saw her despairing grief. They had had tea before they went the last time, and the early winter darkness had fallen already, though it was only seven o’clock.
Alan had promised to come in at nine and give them the latest report, but how could any of them see the end of that interval7 with such wet eyes? Time seemed to have ceased for them altogether just now.
After a time, however, Peter sat up straight and 240looked around; childish tears, thank Heaven, dry quickly. There was one of his little tin soldiers on the hearthrug, and he picked it up gratefully and held it in his small warm hand. Near the fender two of the horsemen with red caps were lying; he would like to have reached them as well, only Poppet’s chest was on his other arm, and he could not bear to disturb her.
Five more minutes ticked away by the funny old clock on the mantelpiece. It pointed8 to a quarter to eight, and had just struck eleven; they all knew by that it was about twenty minutes past seven.
Peter sighed, and very, very softly withdrew his small cramped9 arm; he waited a minute or two longer, and then crawled over to the horsemen. He felt a chastened joy to find all the boxful in the fender just as he had left them yesterday after the war against the Matabele tribes. He had painted one of them black for Lobengula, and it reminded him of the exciting game he had had over his capture. He wondered, poor little tear-weary boy, would Essie mind very much if he had a little, only a little, game very quietly on the floor now; the oilcloth had beautiful yellow squares, all ready for the different detachments.
Poppet’s head was turned the other way; he fancied she was asleep, she lay so still; Bunty at 241the table had stopped breathing loudly; perhaps he was asleep too; and Nellie was in her room.
He marshalled the little figures up in rows, army against army; the brass10 toy cannon11 he gave to the English, but to make up, he put a few more men on the side of the Matabeles. He always felt secretly sorry for them, and often gave Lobengula loopholes of escape that he did not permit to Nelson, Gordon, and Marlborough, who, with small-boy enthusiasm, he had placed in command of his British forces.
The clock struck six, indicated eight, and meant half-past seven. Then the stillness of the little lamp-lit room was suddenly broken.
Poppet sat up speechless. Poor little sinful Peter lowered his head at her accusing eyes and whimpered softly.
“You cwuel boy!” she said.
“I’ve been cwying hard all the time,” was Poppet’s sorrowfully superior answer; she was feeling disappointed with herself at being so near her own last tear, and it made her more severe with him. “I don’t b’leeve you care a bit.”
“I’m thorrier than you, tho there!” he retorted tearfully.
“Why, you’ve hardly cwied at all!”
“I have, I cried for hourth,—you’re a thtory, Poppet.”
Bunty bade them hold their tongues. He got up and reached “Hereward the Wake” off the side table to try to occupy his thoughts with; he was half through “Tom Floremall’s School Days,” and it lay open on the same table, but he felt it would have been unfeeling to read anything so light.
The example, however, encouraged the children. Poppet put out her hand and caught the black kitten that had tapped her shoulder temptingly once 243or twice; she cuddled down on the hearthrug with it, after giving Peter a kiss of forgiveness.
And Peter, utterly14 relieved, banged Marlborough and Lobengula together in such fierce single combat that it is wonderful neither of them was decapitated.
The door handle turned and Nellie came in again, Nellie with a sheet-white face, heavy wet lashes15, and swollen16 eyes.
“I’m going up again,” she said.
“Tho ’m I,” said Peter, springing to his feet.
“An’ me,” Poppet cried.
“Come on,” said Bunty, picking up his hat.
But Nellie shook her head.
“You know your cold’s bad again, Poppet; and, Peter dear, it’s after your bedtime,—you must stay,” she said. “Oh, Bunty, do stop with them.”
“I’m sure——” Bunty answered, with contradictory17 accent.
“I shall die if I don’t go this minute,” she said passionately18.
She moved to the door, but Bunty had gone before her.
“We can’t leave them,—oh, Bunty, if only you’d stay!” She held his coat sleeve and tried to force him back.
244“I want to hear as much as you do,” he said, with all his old gruffness; “here, let go.”
“I tell you I shall go mad—mad—if I don’t go!” the girl said wildly. He saw the burning look in her eyes, the pain at her lips, and fell back suddenly, awkwardly.
“All right, go on,” he said.
Then his just wakening brotherly-protection ideas occurred to him.
“I say, you can’t go,” he said; “don’t be a silly. You’re only a girl, and it’s dark,—let me go, Nell; I’ll run all the way, and come straight back and tell you.”
“I must go,” she repeated hoarsely19. “Make them go to bed; give Poppet her medicine; don’t leave the matches near Peter.”
She slipped off his detaining hand, and the next minute was flying up the road through the cold white moonlight, a small dark figure with desperate eyes, and the wretchedest little heart in the world.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
drooped
|
|
| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
frail
|
|
| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
sobbed
|
|
| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
sob
|
|
| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
hysterical
|
|
| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
interval
|
|
| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
cramped
|
|
| a.狭窄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
brass
|
|
| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
cannon
|
|
| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
hip
|
|
| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
truthful
|
|
| adj.真实的，说实话的，诚实的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
lashes
|
|
| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
swollen
|
|
| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
contradictory
|
|
| adj.反驳的，反对的，抗辩的；n.正反对，矛盾对立 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
passionately
|
|
| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
hoarsely
|
|
| adv.嘶哑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |