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双城记 查尔斯·狄更斯-第2部分

小说: 双城记 查尔斯·狄更斯 字数: 每页4000字

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aitorous。
In England; there was scarcely an amount of order and protection to justify much national boasting。 Daring burglaries by armed men; and highway robberies; took place in the capital itself every night; families were publicly cautioned not to go out of town without removing their furniture to upholsterers' warehouses for security; the highwayman in the dark was a City tradesman in the light; and; being recognised and challenged by his fellow…tradesman whom he stopped in his character of ‘the Captain; ' gallantly shot him through the head and rode away; the mail was waylaid by seven robbers; and the guard shot three dead; and then got shot dead himself by the other four; ‘in consequence of the failure of his ammunition:' after which the mail was robbed in Peace; that magnificent potentate; the Lord Mayor of London; was made to stand and deliver on Turnham Green; by one highwayman; who despoiled the illustrious creature insight of all his retinue; prisoners in London gaols fought battles with their turnkeys; and the majesty of the law fired blunderbusses in among them; loaded with rounds of shot and ball; thieves snipped off diamond crosses from the necks of noble lords at Court drawing…rooms; musketeers went into St。 Giles's; to search for contraband goods; and the mob fired on the musketeers; and the musketeers fired on the mob; and nobody thought any of these occurrences much out of the mon way。 In the midst of them; the hangman; ever busy and ever worse than useless; was in constant requisition; now; stringing up long rows of miscellaneous criminals; now; hanging a house…breaker on Saturday who had been taken on Tuesday; now; burning people in the hand at Newgate by the dozen; and now burning pamphlets at the door of Westminster Hall; to…day; taking the life of an atrocious murderer; and to…morrow of a wretched pilferer who had robbed a farmer's boy of sixpence。
All these things; and a thousand like them; came to pass in and close upon the dear old year one thousand seven hundred and seventy…five。 Environed by them; while the Woodman and the Farmer worked unheeded; those two of the large jaws; and those other two of the plain and the fair laces; trod with stir enough; and carried their divine rights with a high hand。 Thus did the year one thousand seven hundred and seventy…five conduct their Greatnesses; and myriads of small creatures……the creatures of this chronicle among the rest……along the roads that lay before them。 
CHAPTER II
The Mail
It was the Dover road that lay; on a Friday night late in November; before the first of the persons with whom this history has business。 The Dover road lay; as to him; beyond the Dover mail; as it lumbered up Shooter's Hill。 He walked uphill in the mire by the side of the mail; as the rest of the passengers did; not because they had the least relish for walking exercise; under the circumstances; but because the hill; and the harness; and the mud; and the mail; were all so heavy that the horses had three times already e to a stop; beside once drawing the coach across the road; with the mutinous intent of taking it back to Blackheath。 Reins and whip and coachman and guard; however; in bination; had read that article of war which forbad a purpose otherwise strongly in favour of the argument; that some brute animals are endued with Reason; and the team had capitulated and returned to their duty。
With drooping heads and tremulous tails; they mashed their way through the thick mud; floundering and stumbling he between whiles; as if they were falling to pieces at the large joints。 As often as the driver rested them and brought them to a stand; with a wary ‘Wo…ho! so…ho then!' the near leader violently shook his head and everything upon it……like an unusually emphatic horse; denying that the coach could be got up the hill。 Whenever the leader made this rattle; the passenger started; as a nervous passenger might; and was disturbed in mind。
There was a steaming mist in all the hollows; and it had roamed in its forlornness up the hill; like an evil spirit; seeking rest and finding none。 A clammy and intensely cold mist; made its slow way through the air in ripples that visibly followed and overspread one another; as the waves of an unwholesome sea might do。 It was dense enough to shut out everything from the light of the coach…lamps but these its own workings and a few yards of road; and the reek of the labouring horse steamed into it; as if they had made it all。
Two other passengers; besides the one; were plodding up the hill by the side of the mail。 All three were wrapped to the cheek…bones and over the ears; and wore jack…boots。 Not one of the three could have said; from anything he saw; what either of the other two was like; and each was hidden under almost as many wrappers from the eyes of the mind; as from the eyes of the body; of his two panions。 In those days; travellers were very shy of being confidential on short notice; for anybody on the road might be a robber or in league with robbers。 As to the latter; when every posting…house and ale…house could produce somebody in ‘the Captain's' pay; ranging from the landlord to the lowest stable nondescript; it was the likeliest thing upon the cards。 So the guard of the Dover mail thought to himself; that Friday night in November; one thousand seven hundred and seventy…five; lumbering up Shooter's Hill; as he stood on his own particular perch behind the mail; beating his feet; and keeping an eye and a hand on the arm…chest before him; where a loaded blunderbuss lay at the top of six or eight loaded horse…pistols; deposited on a substratum of cutlass。
The Dover mail was in its usual genial position that the guard suspected the passengers; the passengers suspected one another and the guard; they all suspected everybody else; and the coachman was sure of nothing but the horses; as to which cattle he could with a clear conscience have taken his oath on the two Testaments that they were not fit for the journey。
‘Wo…ho!' said the coachman。 ‘So; then One more pull and you're at the top and be damned to you; for I have had trouble enough to get you to it……Joe!'
‘Halloa' the guard replied。 
‘What o'clock do you make it; Joe?' 
‘Ten minutes; good; past eleven。'
‘My blood' ejaculated the vexed coachman; ‘and not atop of Shooter's yet! Tst! Yah! Get on with you!'
The emphatic horse; cut short by the whip in a most decided negative; made a decided scramble for it; and the three other horses followed suit。 Once more; the Dover mail struggled on; with the jack…boots of its passengers squashing along by its side。 They had stopped when the coach stopped; and they kept close pany with it。 If any one of the three had had the hardihood to propose to another to walk on a little ahead into the mist and darkness; he would have put himself in a fair way of getting shot instantly as a highwayman。
The last burst carried the mail to the summit of the hill。 The horses stopped to breathe again; and the guard got down to skid the wheel for the descent; and open the coach…door to let the passengers in。
‘Tst Joe!' cried the coachman in a warning voice; looking down from his box。
What do you say; Tom?' 
They both listened。 
‘I say a horse at a canter ing up; Joe。'
‘I say a horse at a gallop; Tom;' returned the guard; leaving his hold of the door; and mounting nimbly to his place。 ‘Gentlemen! In the king's name; all of you!'
With this hurried adjuration; he cocked his blunderbuss; and stood on the offensive。
The passenger booked by this history; was on the coach…step: getting in; the two other passengers were close behind him; and about to follow。 He remained on the step; half in the coach and half out of it; they remained in the road below him。 They all looked from the coachman to the guard; and from the guard to the coachman; and listened。 The coachman looked back and the guard looked back; and even the emphatic leader pricked up his ears and looked back; without contradicting。
The stillness consequent on the cessation of the rumbling and labouring of the coach; added to the stillness of he night made it very quiet indeed。 The panting of the horses municated a tremulous motion to the coach; as if it were in a state o' agitation。 The hearts of the passengers beat loud enough perhaps to be heard; but at any rate; the quiet pause was audibly expressive of people out of breath; and holding the breath; an' having the pulses quickened by expectation。
The sound of a horse at a gallop came fast and furiously up the hill。
‘So…ho!' the guard sang out; as loud as he could roar。 ‘Yo there! Stand! I shall fire!'
The pace was suddenly checked; and; with much splashing and floundering; a man's voice called from the mist; ‘Is that the Dover mail?'
‘Never you mind what it is?' the guard retorted。 ‘Wham are you?'
‘Is that the Dover mail?' 
‘Why do you want to know?' 
‘I want a passenger; if it is。' 
‘What passenger?';
‘Mr。 Jarvis Lorry。'
Our booked passenger showed in a moment that it was his name。 The guard; the coachman; and the two other passengers eyed him distrustfully。
‘Keep where you are;' the guard called to the voice in the mist; ‘because; if I should make a mistake; it could never be set right in your lifetime。 Gentleman of the name of Lorry answer straight。'
‘What is the matter?' asked the passenger; then; with mildly quavering speech。 ‘Who wants me? Is it Jerry?'
(‘I don't like Jerry's voice; if it is Jerry;' growled the guard to himself。 ‘He's hoarser than suits me; is Jerry。')
‘Yes; Mr。 Lorry。'
‘What is the matter?' 
‘A despatch sent after you from over yonder。 T。 and Co。'
‘I know this messenger; guard;' said Mr。 Lorry; getting down into the road……assisted from behind more swiftly than politely by the other two passengers; who immediately scrambled into he coach; shut the door; and pulled; up the window。 ‘He may e close; there's nothing wrong。'
‘I hope there ain't; but I can't make so ‘Nation sure of that;' said the guard; in gruff soliloquy。 ‘Hallo you!'
‘Well! And hallo you!' said Jerry; more hoarsely than before。
‘e on at a footpace! d'ye mind me? And if you've got holsters to that saddle o' yourn; don't let me see your hand go nigh 'em。 For I'm a devil at a quick mistake; and when I make one it takes the form of Lead。 So now let's look at you。'

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