Our Mutual Friend. Чарльз Диккенс

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ to the other boats, and had made sure that he could not miss it, he turned his eyes upon the building where, as he had been told, the lonely girl with the dark hair sat by the fire.

      He could see the light of the fire shining through the window. Perhaps it drew him on to look in. Perhaps he had come out with the express intention. That part of the bank having rank grass growing on it, there was no difficulty in getting close, without any noise of footsteps: it was but to scramble up a ragged face of pretty hard mud some three or four feet high and come upon the grass and to the window. He came to the window by that means.

      She had no other light than the light of the fire. The unkindled lamp stood on the table. She sat on the ground, looking at the brazier, with her face leaning on her hand. There was a kind of film or flicker on her face, which at first he took to be the fitful firelight; but, on a second look, he saw that she was weeping. A sad and solitary spectacle, as shown him by the rising and the falling of the fire.

      It was a little window of but four pieces of glass, and was not curtained; he chose it because the larger window near it was. It showed him the room, and the bills upon the wall respecting the drowned people starting out and receding by turns. But he glanced slightly at them, though he looked long and steadily at her. A deep rich piece of colour, with the brown flush of her cheek and the shining lustre of her hair, though sad and solitary, weeping by the rising and the falling of the fire.

      She started up. He had been so very still that he felt sure it was not he who had disturbed her, so merely withdrew from the window and stood near it in the shadow of the wall. She opened the door, and said in an alarmed tone, ‘Father, was that you calling me?’ And again, ‘Father!’ And once again, after listening, ‘Father! I thought I heard you call me twice before!’

      No response. As she re-entered at the door, he dropped over the bank and made his way back, among the ooze and near the hiding-place, to Mortimer Lightwood: to whom he told what he had seen of the girl, and how this was becoming very grim indeed.

      ‘If the real man feels as guilty as I do,’ said Eugene, ‘he is remarkably uncomfortable.’

      ‘Influence of secrecy,’ suggested Lightwood.

      ‘I am not at all obliged to it for making me Guy Fawkes in the vault and a Sneak in the area both at once,’ said Eugene. ‘Give me some more of that stuff.’

      Lightwood helped him to some more of that stuff, but it had been cooling, and didn’t answer now.

      ‘Pooh,’ said Eugene, spitting it out among the ashes. ‘Tastes like the wash of the river.’

      ‘Are you so familiar with the flavour of the wash of the river?’

      ‘I seem to be to-night. I feel as if I had been half drowned, and swallowing a gallon of it.’

      ‘Influence of locality,’ suggested Lightwood.

      ‘You are mighty learned to-night, you and your influences,’ returned Eugene. ‘How long shall we stay here?’

      ‘How long do you think?’

      ‘If I could choose, I should say a minute,’ replied Eugene, ‘for the Jolly Fellowship Porters are not the jolliest dogs I have known. But I suppose we are best here until they turn us out with the other suspicious characters, at midnight.’

      Thereupon he stirred the fire, and sat down on one side of it. It struck eleven, and he made believe to compose himself patiently. But gradually he took the fidgets in one leg, and then in the other leg, and then in one arm, and then in the other arm, and then in his chin, and then in his back, and then in his forehead, and then in his hair, and then in his nose; and then he stretched himself recumbent on two chairs, and groaned; and then he started up.

      ‘Invisible insects of diabolical activity swarm in this place. I am tickled and twitched all over. Mentally, I have now committed a burglary under the meanest circumstances, and the myrmidons of justice are at my heels.’

      ‘I am quite as bad,’ said Lightwood, sitting up facing him, with a tumbled head; after going through some wonderful evolutions, in which his head had been the lowest part of him. ‘This restlessness began with me, long ago. All the time you were out, I felt like Gulliver with the Lilliputians firing upon him.’

      ‘It won’t do, Mortimer. We must get into the air; we must join our dear friend and brother, Riderhood. And let us tranquillize ourselves by making a compact. Next time (with a view to our peace of mind) we’ll commit the crime, instead of taking the criminal. You swear it?’

      ‘Certainly.’

      ‘Sworn! Let Tippins look to it. Her life’s in danger.’

      Mortimer rang the bell to pay the score, and Bob appeared to transact that business with him: whom Eugene, in his careless extravagance, asked if he would like a situation in the lime-trade?

      ‘Thankee sir, no sir,’ said Bob. ‘I’ve a good sitiwation here, sir.’

      ‘If you change your mind at any time,’ returned Eugene, ‘come to me at my works, and you’ll always find an opening in the lime-kiln.’

      ‘Thankee sir,’ said Bob.

      ‘This is my partner,’ said Eugene, ‘who keeps the books and attends to the wages. A fair day’s wages for a fair day’s work is ever my partner’s motto.’

      ‘And a very good ‘un it is, gentlemen,’ said Bob, receiving his fee, and drawing a bow out of his head with his right hand, very much as he would have drawn a pint of beer out of the beer engine.

      ‘Eugene,’ Mortimer apostrophized him, laughing quite heartily when they were alone again, ‘how can you be so ridiculous?’

      ‘I am in a ridiculous humour,’ quoth Eugene; ‘I am a ridiculous fellow. Everything is ridiculous. Come along!’

      It passed into Mortimer Lightwood’s mind that a change of some sort, best expressed perhaps as an intensification of all that was wildest and most negligent and reckless in his friend, had come upon him in the last half-hour or so. Thoroughly used to him as he was, he found something new and strained in him that was for the moment perplexing. This passed into his mind, and passed out again; but he remembered it afterwards.

      ‘There’s where she sits, you see,’ said Eugene, when they were standing under the bank, roared and riven at by the wind. ‘There’s the light of her fire.’

      ‘I’ll take a peep through the window,’ said Mortimer.

      ‘No, don’t!’ Eugene caught him by the arm. ‘Best, not make a show of her. Come to our honest friend.’

      He led him to the post of watch, and they both dropped down and crept under the lee of the boat; a better shelter than it had seemed before, being directly contrasted with the blowing wind and the bare night.

      ‘Mr Inspector at home?’ whispered Eugene.

      ‘Here I am, sir.’

      ‘And our friend of the perspiring brow is at the far corner there? Good. Anything happened?’

      ‘His daughter has been out, thinking she heard him calling, unless it was a sign to him to keep out of the way. It might have been.’

      ‘It might have been Rule Britannia,’ muttered Eugene, ‘but it wasn’t. Mortimer!’

      ‘Here!’ СКАЧАТЬ