Her eyes had not deceived her. Two figures which had emerged from the upper staircase window of Mr. Rumbold’s and had got after a perilous1 paddle in his cistern2, on to the fire station, were now slowly but resolutely4 clambering up the outhouse roof towards the back of the main premises5 of Messrs. Mantell and Throbson’s. They clambered slowly and one urged and helped the other, slipping and pausing ever and again, amidst a constant trickle6 of fragments of broken tile.
One was Mr. Polly, with his hair wildly disordered, his face covered with black smudges and streaked8 with perspiration9, and his trouser legs scorched10 and blackened; the other was an elderly lady, quietly but becomingly dressed in black, with small white frills at her neck and wrists and a Sunday cap of ecru lace enlivened with a black velvet11 bow. Her hair was brushed back from her wrinkled brow and plastered down tightly, meeting in a small knob behind; her wrinkled mouth bore that expression of supreme12 resolution common with the toothless aged13. She was shaky, not with fear, but with the vibrations14 natural to her years, and she spoke15 with the slow quavering firmness of the very aged.
“I don’t mind scrambling16,” she said with piping inflexibility17, “but I can’t jump and I wunt jump.”
“Scramble18, old lady, then — scramble!” said Mr. Polly, pulling her arm. “It’s one up and two down on these blessed tiles.”
“It’s not what I’m used to,” she said.
“Stick to it!” said Mr. Polly, “live and learn,” and got to the ridge19 and grasped at her arm to pull her after him.
“I can’t jump, mind ye,” she repeated, pressing her lips together. “And old ladies like me mustn’t be hurried.”
“Well, let’s get as high as possible anyhow!” said Mr. Polly, urging her gently upward. “Shinning up a water-spout in your line? Near as you’ll get to Heaven.”
“I can’t jump,” she said. “I can do anything but jump.”
“Hold on!” said Mr. Polly, “while I give you a boost. That’s — wonderful.”
“So long as it isn’t jumping. . . . ”
The old lady grasped the parapet above, and there was a moment of intense struggle.
“Urup!” said Mr. Polly. “Hold on! Gollys! where’s she gone to? . . . ”
Then an ill-mended, wavering, yet very reassuring20 spring side boot appeared for an instant.
“Thought perhaps there wasn’t any roof there!” he explained, scrambling up over the parapet beside her.
“I’ve never been out on a roof before,” said the old lady. “I’m all disconnected. It’s very bumpy21. Especially that last bit. Can’t we sit here for a bit and rest? I’m not the girl I useto be.”
“You sit here ten minutes,” shouted Mr. Polly, “and you’ll pop like a roast chestnut22. Don’t understand me? Roast chestnut! ROAST CHESTNUT! POP! There ought to be a limit to deafness. Come on round to the front and see if we can find an attic23 window. Look at this smoke!”
“Nasty!” said the old lady, her eyes following his gesture, puckering24 her face into an expression of great distaste.
“Come on!”
“Can’t hear a word you say.”
He pulled her arm. “Come on!”
She paused for a moment to relieve herself of a series of entirely25 unexpected chuckles26. “Sich goings on!” she said, “I never did! Where’s he going now?” and came along behind the parapet to the front of the drapery establishment.
Below, the street was now fully27 alive to their presence, and encouraged the appearance of their heads by shouts and cheers. A sort of free fight was going on round the fire escape, order represented by Mr. Boomer and the very young policeman, and disorder7 by some partially28 intoxicated29 volunteers with views of their own about the manipulation of the apparatus30. Two or three lengths of Mr. Rusper’s garden hose appeared to have twined themselves round the ladder. Mr. Polly watched the struggle with a certain impatience31, and glanced ever and again over his shoulder at the increasing volume of smoke and steam that was pouring up from the burning fire station. He decided32 to break an attic window and get in, and so try and get down through the shop. He found himself in a little bedroom, and returned to fetch his charge. For some time he could not make her understand his purpose.
“Got to come at once!” he shouted.
“I hain’t ‘ad sich a time for years!” said the old lady.
“We’ll have to get down through the house!”
“Can’t do no jumpin’,” said the old lady. “No!”
She yielded reluctantly to his grasp.
She stared over the parapet. “Runnin’ and scurrying33 about like black beetles34 in a kitchin,” she said.
“We’ve got to hurry.”
“Mr. Rumbold ‘E’s a very Quiet man. ‘E likes everything Quiet. He’ll be surprised to see me ’ere! Why!— there ‘e is!” She fumbled35 in her garments mysteriously and at last produced a wrinkled pocket handkerchief and began to wave it.
“Oh, come ON!” cried Mr. Polly, and seized her.
He got her into the attic, but the staircase, he found, was full of suffocating36 smoke, and he dared not venture below the next floor. He took her into a long dormitory, shut the door on those pungent37 and pervasive38 fumes39, and opened the window to discover the fire escape was now against the house, and all Fishbourne boiling with excitement as an immensely helmeted and active and resolute3 little figure ascended40. In another moment the rescuer stared over the windowsill, heroic, but just a trifle self-conscious and grotesque41.
“Lawks a mussy!” said the old lady. “Wonders and Wonders! Why! it’s Mr. Gambell! ‘Iding ‘is ‘ed in that thing! I never did!”
“Can we get her out?” said Mr. Gambell. “There’s not much time.”
“He might git stuck in it.”
“You’ll get stuck in it,” said Mr. Polly, “come along!”
“Not for jumpin’ I don’t,” said the old lady, understanding his gestures rather than his words. “Not a bit of it. I bain’t no good at jumping and I wunt.”
They urged her gently but firmly towards the window.
“You lemme do it my own way,” said the old lady at the sill. . . .
“I could do it better if e’d take it off.”
“Oh! carm on!”
“It’s wuss than Carter’s stile,” she said, “before they mended it. With a cow a-looking at you.”
Mr. Gambell hovered42 protectingly below. Mr. Polly steered43 her aged limbs from above. An anxious crowd below babbled44 advice and did its best to upset the fire escape. Within, streamers of black smoke were pouring up through the cracks in the floor. For some seconds the world waited while the old lady gave herself up to reckless mirth again. “Sich times!” she said, and “Poor Rumbold!”
Slowly they descended45, and Mr. Polly remained at the post of danger steadying the long ladder until the old lady was in safety below and sheltered by Mr. Rumbold (who was in tears) and the young policeman from the urgent congratulations of the crowd. The crowd was full of an impotent passion to participate. Those nearest wanted to shake her hand, those remoter cheered.
“The fust fire I was ever in and likely to be my last. It’s a scurryin’, ‘urryin’ business, but I’m real glad I haven’t missed it,” said the old lady as she was borne rather than led towards the refuge of the Temperance Hotel.
Also she was heard to remark: “‘E was saying something about ‘ot chestnuts46. I ‘aven’t ‘ad no ‘ot chestnuts.”
Then the crowd became aware of Mr. Polly awkwardly negotiating the top rungs of the fire escape. “‘Ere ‘e comes!” cried a voice, and Mr. Polly descended into the world again out of the conflagration47 he had lit to be his funeral pyre, moist, excited, and tremendously alive, amidst a tempest of applause. As he got lower and lower the crowd howled like a pack of dogs at him. Impatient men unable to wait for him seized and shook his descending48 boots, and so brought him to earth with a run. He was rescued with difficulty from an enthusiast49 who wished to slake50 at his own expense and to his own accompaniment a thirst altogether heroic. He was hauled into the Temperance Hotel and flung like a sack, breathless and helpless, into the tear-wet embrace of Miriam.
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perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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cistern
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| n.贮水池 | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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trickle
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| vi.淌，滴，流出，慢慢移动，逐渐消散 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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vibrations
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| n.摆动( vibration的名词复数 )；震动；感受；（偏离平衡位置的）一次性往复振动 | |
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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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scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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inflexibility
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| n.不屈性，顽固，不变性；不可弯曲；非挠性；刚性 | |
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scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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bumpy
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| adj.颠簸不平的，崎岖的 | |
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chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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puckering
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| v.（使某物）起褶子或皱纹( pucker的现在分词 )；小褶纹；小褶皱 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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chuckles
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的名词复数 ) | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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apparatus
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| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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scurrying
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的现在分词 ) | |
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beetles
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| n.甲虫( beetle的名词复数 ) | |
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fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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suffocating
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| a.使人窒息的 | |
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pungent
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| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
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pervasive
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| adj.普遍的；遍布的，(到处)弥漫的；渗透性的 | |
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fumes
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| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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steered
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| v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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44
babbled
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| v.喋喋不休( babble的过去式和过去分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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45
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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46
chestnuts
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| n.栗子( chestnut的名词复数 )；栗色；栗树；栗色马 | |
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conflagration
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| n.建筑物或森林大火 | |
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48
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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49
enthusiast
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| n.热心人，热衷者 | |
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50
slake
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| v.解渴，使平息 | |
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