bleak house(凄凉的房子)-第147节
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I should not be quite able to go to the window…curtain as usual； do
you go； Charley； and say I am asleep—that I have rather tired
myself； and am asleep。 At all times keep the room as I have kept it；
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Charley； and let no one come。”
Charley promised； and I lay down； for I was very heavy。 I saw
the doctor that night； and asked the favour of him that I wished to
ask； relative to his saying nothing of my illness in the house as yet。
I have a very indistinct remembrance of that night melting into
day； and of day melting into night again； but I was just able； on the
first morning； to get to the window； and speak to my darling。
On the second morning I heard her dear voice—O how dear
now！—outside； and I asked Charley； with some difficulty （speech
being painful to me）； to go and say I was asleep。 I heard her
answer softly； “Don’t disturb her； Charley； for the world！”
“How does my own Pride look； Charley？” I inquired。
“Disappointed； miss；” said Charley； peeping through the
curtain。
“But I know she is very beautiful this morning。”
“She is indeed； miss；” answered Charley； peeping。 “Still looking
up at the window。”
With her blue clear eyes； God bless them； always loveliest when
raised like that！
I called Charley to me； and gave her her last charge。
“Now； Charley； when she knows I am ill； she will try to make
her way into the room。 Keep her out； Charley； if you love me truly；
to the last！ Charley； if you let her in but once； only to look upon me
for one moment as I lie here； I shall die。”
“I never will！ I never will！” she promised me。
“I believe it； my dear Charley。 And now come and sit beside me
for a little while； and touch me with your hand。 For I cannot see
you； Charley； I am blind。”
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Chapter 32
The Appointed Time
t is night in Lincoln’s Inn—perplexed and troublous valley of
the shadow of the law； where suitors generally find but little
Iday—and fat candles are snuffed out in offices； and clerks
have rattled down the crazy wooden stairs； and dispersed。 The bell
that rings at nine o’clock； has ceased its doleful clangour about
nothing； the gates are shut； and the night…porter； a solemn warder
with a mighty power of sleep； keeps guard in his lodge。 From tiers
of staircase windows； clogged lamps like the eyes of Equity；
bleared Argus with a fathomless pocket for every eye and an eye
upon it； dimly blink at the stars。 In dirty upper casements； here
and there； hazy little patches of candlelight reveal where some
wise draughtsman and conveyancer yet toils for the entanglement
of real estate in meshes of sheepskin； in the average ratio of about
a dozen of sheep to an acre of land。 Over which bee…like industry；
these benefactors of their species linger yet； though office…hours
be past： that they may give； for every day； some good account at
last。
In the neighbouring court； where the Lord Chancellor of the
Rag and Bottle shop dwells； there is a general tendency towards
beer and supper。 Mrs Piper and Mrs Perkins； whose respective
sons； engaged with a circle of acquaintance in the game of hide
and seek； have been lying in ambush about the by…ways of
Chancery Lane for some hours； and scouring the plain of the same
thoroughfare to the confusion of passengers—Mrs Piper and Mrs
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Perkins have but now exchanged congratulations on the children
being abed； and they still linger on a doorstep over a few parting
words。 Mr Krook and his lodger； and the fact of Mr Krook’s being
“continually in liquor；” and the testamentary prospects of the
young man are； as usual； the staple of their conversation。 But they
have something to say； likewise； of the Harmonic Meeting at the
Sol’s Arms； where the sound of the piano through the partly…
opened windows jingles out into the court； and where little Swills；
after keeping the lovers of harmony in a roar like a very Yorick；
may now be heard taking the gruff line in a concerted piece； and
sentimentally adjuring his friends and patrons to Listen； listen；
listen； Tew the wa…ter…Fall！ Mrs Perkins and Mrs Piper compare
opinions on the subject of the young lady of professional celebrity
who assists at the Harmonic Meetings； and who has a space to
herself in the manuscript announcement in the window； Mrs
Perkins possessing information that she has been married a year
and a half； though announced as Miss M。 Melvilleson； the noted
syren； and that her baby is clandestinely conveyed to the Sol’s
Arms every night to receive its natural nourishment during the
entertainments。 “Sooner than which； myself；” says Mrs Perkins； “I
would get my living by selling lucifers。” Mrs Piper； as in duty
bound； is of the same opinion； holding that a private station is
better than public applause； and thanking Heaven for her own
（and； by implication； Mrs Perkins’s） respectability。 By this time；
the pot…boy of the Sol’s Arms appearing with her supper…pint well
frothed； Mrs Piper accepts that tankard and retires indoors； first
giving a fair good night to Mrs Perkins； who has had her own pint
in her hand ever since it was fetched from the same hostelry by
young Perkins before he was sent to bed。 Now； there is a sound of
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putting up shop…shutters in the court； and a smell as of the
smoking of pipes； and shooting stars are seen in upper windows；
further indicating retirement to rest。 Now； too； the policeman
begins to push at doors； to try fastenings； to be suspicious of
bundles； and to administer his beat； on the hypothesis that
everyone is either robbing or being robbed。
It is a close night； though the damp cold is searching too； and
there is a laggard mist a little way up in the air。 It is a fine
steaming night to turn the slaughterhouses； the unwholesome
trades； the sewerage； bad water； and burial grounds to account；
and give the Registrar of Deaths some extra business。 It may be
something in the air—there is plenty in it—or it may be something
in himself； that is in fault； but Mr Weevle； otherwise Jobling； is
very ill at ease。 He comes and goes； between his own room and the
open street door； twenty times an hour。 He has been doing so； ever
since it fell dark。 Since the Chancellor shut up his shop； which he
did very early tonight； Mr Weevle has been down and up； and
down and up （with a cheap tight velvet skull…cap on his head；
making his whiskers look out of all proportion）； oftener than
before。
It is no phenomenon that Mr Snagsby should be ill at ease too；
for he always is so； more or less； under the oppressive influence of
the secret that is upon him。 Impelled by the mystery； of which he
is a partaker； and yet in which he is not a sharer； Mr Snagsby
haunts what seems to be its fountain…head—the rag and bottle
shop in the court。 It has an irresistible attraction for him。 Even
now； coming round by the Sol’s Arms with the intention of passing
down the court； and out at the
