little dorrit-信丽(英文版)-第17章

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house　with　herself　and　uncle。

This　changed　the　client's　half…formed　design　of　remaining　at　the
coffee…shop　until　the　nondescript　should　bring　him　word　that　Dorrit
had　issued　forth　into　the　street。　He　entrusted　the　nondescript　with　a
confidential　message　to　her；　importing　that　the　visitor　who　had　waited
on　her　father　last　night；　begged　the　favour　of　a　few　words　with　her　at
her　uncle's　lodging；　he　obtained　from　the　same　source　full　directions　to
the　house；　which　was　very　near；　dismissed　the　nondescript　gratified　with
half…a…crown；　and　having　hastily　refreshed　himself　at　the　coffee…shop；
repaired　with　all　speed　to　the　clario…player's　dwelling。

There　were　so　many　lodgers　in　this　house　that　the　doorpost　seemed　to　be
as　full　of　bell…handles　as　a　cathedral　organ　is　of　stops。　Doubtful
which　might　be　the　clario…stop；　he　was　considering　the　point；　when　a
shuttlecock　flew　out　of　the　parlour　window；　and　alighted　on　his　hat。
He　then　observed　that　in　the　parlour　window　was　a　blind　with　the
inscription；　MR　CRIPPLES's　ACADEMY；　also　in　another　line；　EVENING
TUITION；　and　behind　the　blind　was　a　little　white…faced　boy；　with　a　slice
of　bread…and…butter　and　a　battledore。

The　window　being　accessible　from　the　footway；　he　looked　in　over　the
blind；　returned　the　shuttlecock；　and　put　his　question。

'Dorrit？'　said　the　little　white…faced　boy　（Master　Cripples　in　fact）。　'Mr
Dorrit？　Third　bell　and　one　knock。'　The　pupils　of　Mr　Cripples　appeared　to
have　been　making　a　copy…book　of　the　street…door；　it　was　so　extensively
scribbled　over　in　pencil。

The　frequency　of　the　inscriptions；　'Old　Dorrit；'　and　'Dirty　Dick；'
in　bination；　suggested　intentions　of　personality　on　the　part　Of
Mr　Cripples's　pupils。　There　was　ample　time　to　make　these　observations
before　the　door　was　opened　by　the　poor　old　man　himself。

'Ha！'　said　he；　very　slowly　remembering　Arthur；　'you　were　shut　in　last
night？'

'Yes；　Mr　Dorrit。　I　hope　to　meet　your　niece　here　presently。'

'Oh！'　said　he；　pondering。　'Out　of　my　brother's　way？　True。　Would　you　e
up…stairs　and　wait　for　her？'

'Thank　you。'

Turning　himself　as　slowly　as　he　turned　in　his　mind　whatever　he　heard　or
said；　he　led　the　way　up　the　narrow　stairs。　The　house　was　very　close；　and
had　an　unwholesome　smell。　The　little　staircase　windows　looked　in　at　the
back　windows　of　other　houses　as　unwholesome　as　itself；　with　poles　and
lines　thrust　out　of　them；　on　which　unsightly　linen　hung；　as　if　the
inhabitants　were　angling　for　clothes；　and　had　had　some　wretched　bites
not　worth　attending　to。　In　the　back　garret……a　sickly　room；　with　a
turn…up　bedstead　in　it；　so　hastily　and　recently　turned　up　that　the
blankets　were　boiling　over；　as　it　were；　and　keeping　the　lid　open……a
half…finished　breakfast　of　coffee　and　toast　for　two　persons　was　jumbled
down　anyhow　on　a　rickety　table。

There　was　no　one　there。　The　old　man　mumbling　to　himself；　after　some
consideration；　that　Fanny　had　run　away；　went　to　the　next　room　to　fetch
her　back。　The　visitor；　observing　that　she　held　the　door　on　the　inside；
and　that；　when　the　uncle　tried　to　open　it；　there　was　a　sharp　adjuration
of　'Don't；　stupid！'　and　an　appearance　of　loose　stocking　and　flannel；
concluded　that　the　young　lady　was　in　an　undress。　The　uncle；　without
appearing　to　e　to　any　conclusion；　shuffled　in　again；　sat　down　in　his
chair；　and　began　warming　his　hands　at　the　fire；　not　that　it　was　cold；　or
that　he　had　any　waking　idea　whether　it　was　or　not。

'What　did　you　think　of　my　brother；　sir？'　he　asked；　when　he　by…and…by
discovered　what　he　was　doing；　left　off；　reached　over　to　the
chimney…piece；　and　took　his　clario　case　down。

'I　was　glad；'　said　Arthur；　very　much　at　a　loss；　for　his　thoughts　were
on　the　brother　before　him；　'to　find　him　so　well　and　cheerful。'　'Ha！'
muttered　the　old　man；　'yes；　yes；　yes；　yes；　yes！'

Arthur　wondered　what　he　could　possibly　want　with　the　clario　case。　He
did　not　want　it　at　all。　He　discovered；　in　due　time；　that　it　was　not　the
little　paper　of　snuff　（which　was　also　on　the　chimney…piece）；　put　it　back
again；　took　down　the　snuff　instead；　and　solaced　himself　with　a　pinch。　He
was　as　feeble；　spare；　and　slow　in　his　pinches　as　in　everything　else；　but
a　certain　little　trickling　of　enjoyment　of　them　played　in　the　poor　worn
nerves　about　the　corners　of　his　eyes　and　mouth。

'Amy；　Mr　Clennam。　What　do　you　think　of　her？'

'I　am　much　impressed；　Mr　Dorrit；　by　all　that　I　have　seen　of　her　and
thought　of　her。'

'My　brother　y；'　he　returned。　'We
should　all　have　been　lost　without　Amy。　She　is　a　very　good　girl；　Amy。　She
does　her　duty。'

Arthur　fancied　that　he　heard　in　these　praises　a　certain　tone　of　custom；
which　he　had　heard　from　the　father　last　night　with　an　inward　protest　and
feeling　of　antagonism。　It　was　not　that　they　stinted　her　praises；　or
were　insensible　to　what　she　did　for　them；　but　that　they　were　lazily
habituated　to　her；　as　they　were　to　all　the　rest　of　their　condition。
He　fancied　that　although　they　had　before　them；　every　day；　the　means　of
parison　between　her　and　one　another　and　themselves；　they　regarded　her
as　being　in　her　necessary　place；　as　holding　a　position　towards　them　all
which　belonged　to　her；　like　her　name　or　her　age。　He　fancied　that　they
viewed　her；　not　as　having　risen　away　from　the　prison　atmosphere；　but　as
appertaining　to　it；　as　being　vaguely　what　they　had　a　right　to　expect；
and　nothing　more。

Her　uncle　resumed　his　breakfast；　and　was　munching　toast　sopped　in
coffee；　oblivious　of　his　guest；　when　the　third　bell　rang。　That　was　Amy；
he　said；　and　went　down　to　let　her　in；　leaving　the　visitor　with　as　vivid
a　picture　on　his　mind　of　his　begrimed　hands；　dirt…worn　face；　and　decayed
figure；　as　if　he　were　still　drooping　in　his　chair。

She　came　up　after　him；　in　the　usual　plain　dress；　and　with　the　usual
timid　manner。　Her　lips　were　a　little　parted；　as　if　her　heart　beat　faster
than　usual。

'Mr　Clennam；　Amy；'　said　her　uncle；　'has　been　expecting　you　some　time。'

'I　took　the　liberty　of　sending　you　a　message。'

'I　received　the　message；　sir。'

'Are　you　going　to　my　mother's　this　morning？　I　think　not；　for　it　is　past
your　usual　hour。'　'Not　to…day；　sir。　I　am　not　wanted　to…day。'

'Will　you　allow　Me　to　walk　a　little　way　in　whatever　direction　you　may
be　going？　I　can　then　speak　to　you　as　we　walk；　both　without　detaining　you
here；　and　without　intruding　longer　here　myself。'

She　looked　embarrassed；　but　said；　if　he　pleased。　He　made　a　pretence　of
having　mislaid　his　walking…stick；　to　give　her　time　to　set　the　bedstead
right；　to　answer　her　sister's　impatient　knock　at　the　wall；　and　to　say　a
word　softly　to　her　uncle。　Then　he　found　it；　and　they　went　down…stairs；
she　first；　he　following；　the　uncle　standing　at　the　stair…head；　and
probably　forgetting　them　before　they　had　reached　the　ground　floor。

Mr　Cripples's　pupils；　who　were　by　this　time　ing　to　school；　desisted
from　their　morning　recreation　of　cuffing　one　another　with　bags　and
books；　to　stare　with　all　the　eyes　they　had　at　a　stranger　who　had　been
to　see　Dirty　Dick。　They　bore　the　trying　spectacle　in　silence；　until　the
mysterious　visitor　was　at　a　safe　distance；　when　they　burst　into　pebbles
and　yells；　and　likewise　into　reviling　dances；　and　in　all　respects　buried
the　pipe　of　peace　with　so　many　savage　ceremonies；　that；　if　Mr　Cripples
had　been　the　chief　of　the　Cripplewayboo　tribe　with　his　war…paint　on；
they　could　scarcely　have　done　greater　justice　to　their　education。

In　the　midst　of　this　homage；　Mr　Arthur　Clennam　offered　his　arm　to　Little
Dorrit；　and　Little　Dorrit　took　it。　'Will　you　go　by　the　Iron　Bridge；'
said　he；　'where　there　is　an　escape　from　the　noise　of　the　street？'　Little
Dorrit　answered；　if　he　pleased；　and　presently　ventured　to　hope　that　he
would　'not　mind'　Mr　Cripples's　boys；　for　she　had　herself　received
her　education；　such　as　it　was；　in　Mr　Cripples's　evening　academy。　He
returned；　with　the　best　will　in　the　world；　that　Mr　Cripples's　boys　were
forgiven　out　of　the　bottom　of　his　soul。　Thus　did　Cripples　unconsciously
bee　a　master　of　the　ceremonies　between　them；　and　bring　them　more
naturally　together　than　Beau　Nash　might　have　done　if　they　had　lived
in　his　golden　days；　and　he　had　alighted　from　his　coach　and　six　for　the
purpose。

The　morning　remained　squally；　and　the　streets　were　miserably　muddy；　but
no　rain　fell　as　they　walked　towards　the　Iron　Bridge。　The　little　creature
seemed　so　young　in　his　eyes；　that　there　were　moments　when　he　found
himself　thinking　of　her；　if　not　speaking　to　her；　as　if　she　were　a　child。
Perhaps　he　seemed　as　old　in　her　eyes　as　she　seemed　young　in　his。

'I　am　sorry　to　hear　you　were　so　inconvenienced　last　night；　sir；　as　to　be
locked　in。　It　was　very　unfortunate。'

It　was　nothing；　he　returned。　He　had　had　a　very　good　bed。


'Oh　yes！'　she　said　quickly；　'she　believed　there　were　excellent　beds　at
the　coffee…house。'　He　noticed　that　the　coffee…house　ajestic
hotel　to　her；　and　that　she　treasured　its　reputation。　'I　believe　it　is
very　expensive；'　said　Little　Dorrit；　'but　MY　father　has　told　me　that
quite　beautiful　dinners　may　be　got　there。　And　wine；'　she　added　timidly。
'Were　you　ever　there？'

'Oh　no！　Only　into　the　kitchen　to　fetch　hot　water。'

To　think　of　growing　up　with　a　kind　of　awe　upon　one　as　to　the　luxuries　of
that　superb　establishment；　the　Marshalsea　Hotel！

'I　asked　you　last　night；'　said　Clennam；　'how　you　had　bee　acquainted
with　my　mother。　Did　you　ever　hear　her　name　before　she　sent　for　you？'

'No；　sir。'

'Do　you　think　your　father　ever　did？'

'No；　sir。'

He　met　her　eyes　raised　to　his　with　so　much　wonder　in　them　（she　was
scared　when　the　encounter　took　place；　and　shrunk　away　again）；　that　he
felt　it　necessary　to　say：

'I　have　a　reason　for　asking；　which　I　cannot　very　well　explain；　but　you
must；　on　no　account；　suppose　it　to　be　of　a　nature　to　cause　you　the　least
alarm　or　anxiety。　Quite　the　reverse。　And　you　think　that　at　no　time　of
your　father's　life　was　my　name　of　Clennam　ever　familiar　to　him？'

'No；　sir。'

He　felt；　from　the　tone　in　which　she　spoke；　that　she　was　glancing　up　at
him　with　those　parted　lips；　therefore　he　looked　before　him；　rather　than
make　her　heart　beat　quicker　still　by　embarrassing　her　afresh。

Thus　they　emerged　upon　the　Iron　Bridge；　which　was　as　quiet　after　the
roaring　streets　as　though　it　had　been　open　country。　The　wind　blew
roughly；　the　e　rattling　past　them；　skimming　the　pools　on
the　road　and　pavement；　and　raining　them　down　into　the　river。　The　clouds
raced　on　furiously　in　the　lead…Coloured　sky；　the　smoke　and　mist　raced
after　them；　the　dark　tide　ran　fierce　and　strong　in　the　same　direction。
Little　Dorrit　seemed　the　least；　the　quietest；　and　weakest　of　Heaven's
creatures。

'Let　me　put　you　in　a　coach；'　said　Clennam；　very　nearly　adding　'my　poor
child。'

She　hurriedly　declined；　saying　that　wet　or　dry　made　little　difference　to
her；　she　was　used　to　go　about　in　all　weathers。　He　knew　it　to　be　so；　and
was　touched　with　more　pity；　thinking　of　the　slight　figure　at　his　side；
making　its　nightly　way　through　the　damp　dark　boisterous　streets　to　such
a　place　of　rest。　'You　spoke　so　feelingly　to　me　last　night；　sir；　and
I　found　afterwards　that　you　had　been　so　generous　to　my　father；　that　I
could　not　resist　your　message；　if　it　was　only　to　thank　you；　especially
as　I　wished　very　much　to　say　to　you……'　she　hesitated　and　trembled；　and
tears　rose　in　her　eyes；　but　did　not　fall。

'To　say　to　me……？'

'That　I　hope　you　will　not　misunderstand　my　father。　Don't　judge　him；　sir；
as　you　would　judge　others　outside　the　gates。　He　has　been　there　so　long！
I　never　saw　him　outside；　but　I　can　understand　that　he　must　have　grown
different　in　some　things　since。'

'My　thoughts　will　never　be　unjust　or　harsh　towards　him；　believe　me。'

'Not；'　she　said；　with　a　prouder　air；　as　the　misgiving　evidently　crept
upon　her　that　she　might　seem　to　be　abandoning　him；　'not　that　he　has
anything　to　be　ashamed　of　for　himself；　or　that　I　have　anything　to　be
ashamed　of　for　him。　He　only　requires　to　be　understood。　I　only　ask　for
him　that　his　life　may　be　fairly　remembered。　All　that　he　said　was　quite
true。　It　all　happened　just　as　he　related　it。　He　is　very　much　respected。
Everybody　who　es　in；　is　glad　to　know　him。　He　is　more　courted　than
anyone　else。　He　is　far　more　thought　of　than　the　Marshal　is。'

If　ever　pride　were　innocent；　it　was　innocent　in　Little　Dorrit　when　she
grew　boastful　of　her　father。

'It　is　often　said　that　his　manners　are　a　true　gentleman's；　and　quite
a　study。　I　see　none　like　them　in　that　place；　but　he　is　admitted　to
be　superior　to　all　the　rest。　This　is　quite　as　much　why　they　make　him
presents；　as　because　they　know　him　to　be　needy。　He　is　not　to　be　blamed
for　being　in　need；　poor　love。　Who　could　be　in　prison　a　quarter　of　a
century；　and　be　prosperous！'

What　affection　in　her　words；　what　passion　in　her　repressed　tears；
what　a　great　soul　of　fidelity　within　her；　how　true　the　light　that　shed
false　brightness　round　him！

'If　I　have　found　it　best　to　conceal　where　my　home　is；　it　is　not　because
I　am　ashamed　of　him。　God　forbid！　Nor　am　I　so　much　ashamed　of　the　place
itself　as　might　be　supposed。　People　are　not　bad　because　they　e　there。
I　have　known　numbers　of　good；　persevering；　honest　people　e　there
through　misfortune。　They　are　almost　all　kind…hearted　to　one　another。
And　it　would　be　ungrateful　indeed　in　me；　to　forget　that　I　have　had　many
quiet；　fortable