Tomlinson, waiting in his daughter’s home, wondered a little at the silence, but waited, on the whole, content. Since his talk with John a hope had sprung up in him that, somehow, the boy would do for him what he could never do for himself. He had started out for Bayport more because he wanted to look Simeon Tetlow in the face than because he hoped for justice at his hands. But since he had talked with the hoy, his purpose had changed imperceptibly and his shrewd Scotch1 sense of justice asserted itself. He would speak the president of the road fair. The man should have his chance. He should not be condemned2 unheard. So Tomlinson waited, his sullen3 mood passing gently into tolerance4.
But his daughter, a buxom5 woman, many years Eddie’s senior, grew impatient at the delay. She prodded6 Tomlinson a little for his inaction.
“What is it like, that Johnny Bennett—a slip of a boy—can do for ye with Simeon Tetlow?” she had demanded scornfully when the week had gone by and no word had come.
“He has a way ye can trust, Jennie—the boy has,” the old man had replied.
“Best trust yourself,” said the woman.
“Go and stan’ up before Sim Tetlow. Tell him to his face what ye want. And if he won’t give it to ye—then curse him!”
So the old man wavered forth7, half driven to a task to which he felt himself unequal. But his reliance was on the boy. He would find him and ask what to do.
“John Bennett?” The assistant bookkeeper, hurrying back from luncheon8 a little late, paused in the doorway9, looking at the tall, red-eyed Scotchman who put the anxious question.
“John Bennett?” He wrinkled his brow a little, as if trying to place so unimportant a person—“I think he works up above—top floor. Take the elevator.” He passed on, chuckling10 a little at the invasion of the sacred territory. “‘Nobody comes up here,’” he said mincingly11, as he drew the ledger12 toward him and plunged13 into work, harrying14 to make ap lost time.
Tomlinson looked a little fearfully at the iron cage, plying15 up and down. He cast an eye about for the more friendly stairway. He was not afraid of any engine, however mighty16 and plunging17, that held to solid earth, keeping its track with open sky; but these prisoned forces and office slaves, clacking back and forth in their narrow walls, and elevators knocking at a man’s stomach, were less to his mind. He climbed laboriously18 up the long stairs, flight after flight, his spent breath gasping19 at each turn. At the top floor he gazed around him, his mouth a little open.
“A queer place for the lad,” he said to himself, his faith in John oozing20 a little as he walked across and knocked at the door of the room.
There was a moment’s silence; then the scraping legs of a chair, and silence.
It was the president of the road, himself, Simeon Tetlow—whom all men hated and feared—standing there grim and terrible.
Tomlinson’s nerveless hand rose to his hat.
“I’m wanting to ask you something, sir.”
“It were Johnny Bennett, sir.”
Tomlinson took heart. “It’s only a word I want with you, sir.”
“Come in.”
Tomlinson shut the door circumspectly25 and stood turning his hat in his fingers.
“Well?”
“It ’s the place, sir—I ’m Tomlinson,” he said.“Oh—you—are—Tomlinson—”
The old man shrank a little, as if each word had struck him lightly in the face. Then he raised his head. “I ’ve served the road forty year,” he said, repeating his lesson, “and I’ve never done harm. I’ve worked early and I’ve worked late for ye, and never a word of complaint.”
The president of the road stirred sharply. “The Bridgewater wreck—”
The old man raised his hand. “It’s that I wanted to speak about, Mr. Tetlow.” There was a simple dignity in the words. “I’d been on duty seventeen hour—and ten hour before that—with not a wink26 of sleep. They run us hard on the hours, sir.”
“The other men stand it—the young men.” The words had a kind of cutting emphasis.
The old man raised his red eyes. “They’ve not gi’ed their strength to the road, sir, as I have—” He threw out a hand. “The road’s had all o’ me.”
Simeon eyed him keenly, the bent27 look and worn shoulders. His glance traveled up and down the thin frame slowly.... Not an ounce of work left in him.
“We ’ve no place for incompetents,” he said, turning away.
Tomlinson made a step forward, as if he would touch him with his hands. Then he stood quiet. “There might be a boy’s place, sir—”
The man wheeled sharply, driven without and within—“I tell you we’ve nothing for you. You ’ve done your work. You ’ve had your pay. You ’re used up.” It was the biting truth and the old man shrank before it.
“I can’t spend any more time on you,” said the president of the road. He turned decisively to his desk.
For a moment Tomlinson stood with bent head. Then he raised his red-rimmed eyes, fixing them on the man before him. His right hand lifted itself significantly. “May the God in heaven curse ye, Simeon Tetlow, as ye have cursed me this day. May He shrivel ye, body and soul, in hell—” The words were shrill28. “Curse ye—curse ye!”
He drew a step nearer, his eyes still on the other’s face.... Gradually a change seemed to come over him. The bent figure straightened itself. It towered above the president of the road, filling the little room. The chieftain of some mighty Highland29 clan30 might have stood thus, defying his enemy. His lifted right hand grew tense and flung itself, and a torrent31 of broad Scotch poured forth. Words of fire, heard in Tomlinson’s boyhood and forgotten long since, were on his tongue. The elemental passions were afire within him. Like the slow-burning peat of his native bogs32, his soul, nourishing its spark through the years, had blazed forth—a scorching33 torrent. The words rolled on, a mighty flood, enveloping34 the man before him. Scathing35 tongues of flame darted36 at him and drew back, and leaped high—to fall in fiery37, stinging showers on his head.
At the first words of the imprecation the president of the road had lifted his head with a little smile—almost of scorn—on his lips, as one might watch some domestic animal reverting38 to its ancestral rage. But as the broad Scotch rolled on—stem, implacable and sinister—the smile faded a little and the man seemed to shrivel where he stood, as if some fiery blast touched him. When he raised his head again, the look in his eyes was of cold steel.
He waited a minute after the voice had ceased, then he lifted his hand quietly. “You ’ve had your say, Tomlinson. Now I ’ll say mine—You leave this office and you leave the road. You ’ll never touch brake or throttle39 or switch on it again. You ’re not fit—do you understand!”
For a long minute the president of the road stood staring at the closed door. The hand that had pointed41 to it had not trembled; but now it began subtly, as if of its own will, to move. Slowly the vibration42 communicated itself to the whole frame till the man threw himself into a chair, broken from head to foot. He leaned toward his desk, gasping a little. “My God!” he said under his breath, “My God!” He lifted his hand and wiped the moisture from his forehead with the dazed look of one who has come through some mighty upheaval43 unharmed.
点击收听单词发音
1 scotch | |
n.伤口,刻痕;苏格兰威士忌酒;v.粉碎,消灭,阻止;adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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2 condemned | |
adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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3 sullen | |
adj.愠怒的,闷闷不乐的,(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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4 tolerance | |
n.宽容;容忍,忍受;耐药力;公差 | |
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5 buxom | |
adj.(妇女)丰满的,有健康美的 | |
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6 prodded | |
v.刺,戳( prod的过去式和过去分词 );刺激;促使;(用手指或尖物)戳 | |
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7 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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8 luncheon | |
n.午宴,午餐,便宴 | |
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9 doorway | |
n.门口,(喻)入门;门路,途径 | |
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10 chuckling | |
轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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11 mincingly | |
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12 ledger | |
n.总帐,分类帐;帐簿 | |
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13 plunged | |
v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
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14 harrying | |
v.使苦恼( harry的现在分词 );不断烦扰;一再袭击;侵扰 | |
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15 plying | |
v.使用(工具)( ply的现在分词 );经常供应(食物、饮料);固定往来;经营生意 | |
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16 mighty | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
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17 plunging | |
adj.跳进的,突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
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18 laboriously | |
adv.艰苦地;费力地;辛勤地;(文体等)佶屈聱牙地 | |
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19 gasping | |
adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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20 oozing | |
v.(浓液等)慢慢地冒出,渗出( ooze的现在分词 );使(液体)缓缓流出;(浓液)渗出,慢慢流出 | |
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21 receded | |
v.逐渐远离( recede的过去式和过去分词 );向后倾斜;自原处后退或避开别人的注视;尤指问题 | |
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22 knuckles | |
n.(指人)指关节( knuckle的名词复数 );(指动物)膝关节,踝v.(指人)指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 );(指动物)膝关节,踝 | |
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23 scowl | |
vi.(at)生气地皱眉,沉下脸,怒视;n.怒容 | |
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24 scowling | |
怒视,生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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25 circumspectly | |
adv.慎重地,留心地 | |
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26 wink | |
n.眨眼,使眼色,瞬间;v.眨眼,使眼色,闪烁 | |
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27 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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28 shrill | |
adj.尖声的;刺耳的;v尖叫 | |
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29 highland | |
n.(pl.)高地,山地 | |
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30 clan | |
n.氏族,部落,宗族,家族,宗派 | |
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31 torrent | |
n.激流,洪流;爆发,(话语等的)连发 | |
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32 bogs | |
n.沼泽,泥塘( bog的名词复数 );厕所v.(使)陷入泥沼, (使)陷入困境( bog的第三人称单数 );妨碍,阻碍 | |
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33 scorching | |
adj. 灼热的 | |
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34 enveloping | |
v.包围,笼罩,包住( envelop的现在分词 ) | |
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35 scathing | |
adj.(言词、文章)严厉的,尖刻的;不留情的adv.严厉地,尖刻地v.伤害,损害(尤指使之枯萎)( scathe的现在分词) | |
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36 darted | |
v.投掷,投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 );向前冲,飞奔 | |
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37 fiery | |
adj.燃烧着的,火红的;暴躁的;激烈的 | |
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38 reverting | |
恢复( revert的现在分词 ); 重提; 回到…上; 归还 | |
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39 throttle | |
n.节流阀,节气阀,喉咙;v.扼喉咙,使窒息,压 | |
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40 tottering | |
adj.蹒跚的,动摇的v.走得或动得不稳( totter的现在分词 );踉跄;蹒跚;摇摇欲坠 | |
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41 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
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42 vibration | |
n.颤动,振动;摆动 | |
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43 upheaval | |
n.胀起,(地壳)的隆起;剧变,动乱 | |
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