Текст книги "The Old Curiosity Shop / Лавка древностей"

16

Another bright day awoke her. The old man woke up and dressed. They all sat down to eat together.

“And where are you going today?” said the little man.

“Indeed I hardly know, we have not determined yet,” replied the child.

“We’re going on to the races,” said the little man. “If that’s your way and you like to have us for company, let us travel together.”

“We’ll go with you,” said the old man. “Nell, with them, with them.”

The real name of the little man was Harris[45]45
  Harris – Гаррис


[Закрыть], but everybody called him Trotters[46]46
  Trotters – Коротыш


[Закрыть], which, with the prefatory adjective, Short, showed the small size of his legs. So Short Trotters[47]47
  Short Trotters – Шиш-Коротыш


[Закрыть] was used in formal conversations and on occasions of ceremony[48]48
  occasions of ceremony – торжественные случаи


[Закрыть].

The breakfast was over, and Mr. Codlin called the bill. They took farewell of the landlord and landlady and resumed their journey.

Mr. Codlin trudged heavily on[49]49
  trudged heavily on – медленно тащился по дороге


[Закрыть], exchanging a word or two at intervals with Short, and stopping to rest and growl occasionally. Short led the way; with the box, the private luggage tied up in a bundle, and a brazen trumpet. Nell and her grandfather walked next him, and Thomas Codlin brought up the rear.

When they came to any town or village, or even to a house of good appearance, Short blew a blast upon the brazen trumpet. If people hurried to the windows, Mr. Codlin hastily unfurled the drapery and concealed Short therewith. Then the entertainment began as soon as might be. After that they resumed their load and on they went again. They were generally well received, and seldom left a town without a troop of children shouting at their heels[50]50
  shouting at their heels – с криками бежавшими по пятам


[Закрыть].

17

The Jolly Sandboys[51]51
  The Jolly Sandboys – «Три Весельчака»


[Закрыть] was a small roadside inn[52]52
  roadside inn – придорожный трактир


[Закрыть] of pretty ancient date. The travellers arrived, drenched with the rain and presenting a most miserable appearance. The landlord rushed into the kitchen and took the cover off[53]53
  took the cover off – снял крышку с котла


[Закрыть]. The effect was magical. They all came in with smiling faces though the wet was dripping from their clothes upon the floor, and Short’s first remark was, “What a delicious smell!”

It is not very difficult to forget rain and mud by the side of a cheerful fire, and in a bright room. They were given slippers and dry garments. Nelly and the old man sat by the fire and fell asleep.

“Who are they?” whispered the landlord.

Short shook his head.

“Don’t you know?” asked the host, turning to Mr. Codlin.

“Not I,” he replied. “They’re no good, I suppose.”

“They’re no harm,” said Short. “And I tell you: the old man isn’t in his right mind[54]54
  isn’t in his right mind – не в своём уме


[Закрыть]. They’re not used to this way of life. Don’t tell me that that handsome child has been in the habit of prowling about[55]55
  in the habit of prowling about – привыкла бродить по дорогам


[Закрыть].”

“Well, who does tell you she has?” growled Mr. Codlin.

“Hear me out, the old man ran away from his relatives and took this delicate young creature to be his guide and companion. Now I’m not a going to stand that[56]56
  I’m not a going to stand that – я этого не потерплю


[Закрыть].”

“You’re not a going to stand that!” cried Mr. Codlin, pulling his hair with both hands.

“I,” repeated Short emphatically and slowly, “am not a going to stand it. I am not a going to see this fair young child in an inappropriate company. Therefore I shall take measures for detaining of them, and restoring them to their relatives.”

“Short,” said Mr. Codlin, “it’s possible that there may be good sense in what you’ve said. If there is, and there can be a reward, Short, remember that we’re partners in everything!”

His companion nodded, and the child awoke at the instant.

18

The next day, after bidding the old man good-night, Nell retired to her poor garret, but had scarcely closed the door, when it gently opened. She was a little startled by the sight of Mr. Thomas Codlin, whom she had left down-stairs.

“What is the matter?” said the child.

“Nothing’s the matter, my dear,” returned her visitor. “I’m your friend. Perhaps you haven’t thought so, but it’s me that’s your friend not him.”

“Not who?” the child inquired.

“Short, my dear. I tell you what,” said Codlin, “You see, I’m the real, openhearted man. I don’t look it, but I am indeed. Short’s very well, and seems kind, but he overdoes it[57]57
  he overdoes it – он переигрывает


[Закрыть]. Now I don’t.”

The child was puzzled, and did not know not tell what to say.

“Take my advice,” said Codlin: “don’t ask me why, but take it. As long as you travel with us, keep as near me as you can. Don’t offer to leave us but always stick to me and say that I’m your friend. Will you bear that in mind, my dear, and always say that it was me that was your friend?”

“Say so where, and when?” inquired the child innocently.

“O, nowhere in particular,” replied Codlin; “I’m only worried about you. Why didn’t you tell me your little history about you and the poor old gentleman? I’m the best adviser that ever was, and so interested in you—so much more interested than Short. And you needn’t tell Short, you know, that we’ve had this little talk together. God bless you. Recollect the friend. Codlin’s the friend, not Short. Your real friend is Codlin, not Short.”

Thomas Codlin stole away on tip-toe[58]58
  on tip-toe – на цыпочках


[Закрыть], leaving the child in a state of extreme surprise. And suddenly somebody knocked at hers.

“Yes,” said the child.

“It’s me, Short” a voice called through the key-hole. “I only wanted to say that we must be off early tomorrow morning, my dear. Will you go with us? I’ll call you.”

The child answered “Yes”. She felt some uneasiness at the anxiety of these men.

19

Very early next morning, Short fulfilled his promise, and knocked softly at her door. Nell started from her bed without delay, and roused the old man.

It was dark before they reached the town. Here all was tumult and confusion; the streets were filled with throngs of people. At length they passed through the town and made for the race-course[59]59
  race-course – ипподром


[Закрыть], which was upon an open heath. They saw a big tent.

After a scanty supper, Nell and the old man lay down to rest in a corner of a tent, and slept, despite the busy preparations that were going on around them all night long.

And now they had come to the time when they must beg their bread. Soon after sunrise in the morning the child, while the two men lay dozing in another corner, plucked grandfather by the sleeve, and slightly glancing towards them, said, in a low voice

“Grandfather, these men suspect that we have secretly left our relatives, and I think, they want to sent us back. We must get away from them.”

“How?” muttered the old man. “Dear Nelly, how? They will easily catch me, and never let me see you anymore!”

“You’re trembling,” said the child. “Keep close to me all day. Never mind them, don’t look at them, but me. I shall find a time when we can go away. When I do, come with me, and do not stop or speak a word. Hush! That’s all.”

“Halloa! what are you doing, my dear?” said Mr. Codlin, raising his head, and yawning. Then observing that his companion was asleep, he added in an earnest whisper, “Codlin’s the friend, remember not Short.”

Late in the day, Mr. Codlin pitched the show in a convenient spot, and the spectators were soon in the very triumph of the scene. That was the very moment. They seized it, and fled.

They made a path through booths and carriages and throngs of people, and never once stopped to look behind. They made for the open fields.

20

Kit raised his eyes to the window of Nell’s little room, and hoped to see some indication of her presence. His own earnest wish, coupled with the assurance he had received from Quilp, filled him with the belief that she would arrive.

“I think they must certainly come tomorrow, eh mother?” said Kit, laying aside his hat and sighing as he spoke. “They have been gone a week. They surely couldn’t stop away more than a week, could they now?”

The mother shook her head, and reminded him how often he had been disappointed already.

“I consider,” said Kit, “that a week is quite long enough for them to be rambling about; don’t you say so?”

“Quite long enough, Kit, longer than enough, but they may not come back for all that.”

Kit thought she was right.

“Then what do you think, mother, has become of them? You don’t think they’ve gone to sea, anyhow?”

“Not gone for sailors, certainly,” returned the mother with a smile. “But I think that they have gone to some foreign country.”

“I say,” cried Kit with a rueful face, “don’t talk like that, mother.”

“I am afraid they have, and that’s the truth,” she said. “It’s the talk of all the neighbours.”

“I don’t believe it,” said Kit. “Not a word of it. How should they know!”

“They may be wrong of course,” returned the mother, “but the people say that the old gentleman and Miss Nell have gone to live abroad where they will never be disturbed.”

Kit scratched his head mournfully. Suddenly a knock at the door was heard. Kit opened the door and saw a little old gentleman and a little old lady.

“Why, bless me,” cried the old gentleman, “the lad is here! My dear, do you see? This is a very good lad, I’m sure.”

“I’m sure he is,” rejoined the old lady. “A very good lad, and I am sure he is a good son.”

The old gentleman then handed the old lady out, and after looking at him with an approving smile, they went into the house.

“Well, boy,” said the old gentleman, smiling; “We are here before you, you see, Christopher[60]60
  Christopher – Кристофер


[Закрыть].”

“Yes, sir,” said Kit; and as he said it, he looked towards his mother for an explanation of the visit.

“This gentleman, Mr. Garland[61]61
  Garland – Гарленд


[Закрыть], was kind enough, my dear,” said she, in reply to this mute interrogation, “to ask me yesterday whether you were in a good place, or in any place at all, and when I told him no, you were not in any, he was so good as to say that…”

“That we wanted a good lad in our house,” said the old gentleman and the old lady both together.

“You see, my good woman,” said Mrs. Garland to Kit’s mother, “that it’s necessary to be very careful and particular in such a matter as this, for we’re only three in family, and are very quiet people, and it would be a sad thing if we made any kind of mistake, and found things different from what we hoped and expected.”

To this, Kit’s mother replied, that certainly it was quite true, and quite right, and quite proper and her son was a very good son though she was his mother, in which respect, she was bold to say, he took after his father, who was not only a good son to his mother, but the best of husbands and the best of fathers besides. After this long story she wiped her eyes with her apron, and patted her little son’s head, who was staring at the strange lady and gentleman.

Mr. Garland put some questions to Kit respecting his qualifications and general acquirements. It was settled that Kit would start to work on the next day, and the money is six pound a year. Finally, the little old couple took their leaves; being escorted by their new attendant.

“Well, mother,” said Kit, hurrying back into the house, “I think my fortune’s about made now.”

“I should think it was indeed, Kit,” rejoined his mother. “Six pound a year! Just think!”

“Ah!” said Kit. “There’s a property!”

21

“Hem!” croaked a strange voice. “What’s that about six pound a year? What about six pound a year? “And as the voice made this inquiry, Daniel Quilp walked in with Richard Swiveller at his heels.

“Who said he would have six pound a year?” said Quilp, looking sharply round. “Did the old man say it, or did little Nell say it? And what’s he to have it for, and where are they, eh?”

The good woman was so much alarmed by the sudden apparition of this unknown ugly dwarf, that she hastily caught the baby from its cradle and retreated into the furthest corner of the room.

“Don’t be frightened, mistress,” said Quilp, after a pause. “Your son knows me; I don’t eat babies; I don’t like them. Now you Kit, why haven’t you come to me as you promised?”

“What should I come for?” retorted Kit. “I hadn’t any business with you, no more than you had with me.”

“Here, mistress,” said Quilp, turning quickly away, and appealing from Kit to his mother. “When did his old master come or send here last? Is he here now? If not, where’s he gone?”

“He has not been here at all,” she replied. “We don’t know where they have gone.”

Quilp glanced at Richard Swiveller, and assumed that he had come in search of some information of the fugitives. He supposed he was right?

“Yes,” said Dick, “that was the object of the present expedition.”

“You seem disappointed,” observed Quilp.

“It baffles description[62]62
  it baffles description – это не поддаётся описанию


[Закрыть], sir, that’s all,” returned Dick.

The dwarf looked at Richard with a sarcastic smile, but Richard continued to deplore his fate with mournful and despondent looks.

“I am disappointed myself,” said Quilp, “I have friendly feeling for them; but you have real reasons, private reasons I have no doubt, for your disappointment, and therefore it comes heavier than mine.”

“Why, of course it does,” Dick observed, testily.

“Upon my word, I’m very sorry, very sorry. But as we are companions in adversity[63]63
  companions in adversity – товарищи по несчастью


[Закрыть], shall we be companions in the surest way of forgetting it? If you had no particular business, now, to lead you in another direction,” urged Quilp, plucking him by the sleeve and looking slyly up into his face out of the corners of his eyes, “there is a house by the water-side where they have excellent gin. The landlord knows me. There’s a little summerhouse[64]64
  summer-house – беседка


[Закрыть] overlooking the river, where we might take a glass of this delicious liquor, Mr. Swiveller, eh?”

As the dwarf spoke, Dick’s face relaxed into a compliant smile, and his brows slowly unbent. Off they went.

The summer-house of which Mr. Quilp had spoken was a rugged wooden box, rotten and bare to see, which overhung the river’s mud, and threatened to slide down into it. The tavern to which it belonged was a crazy building, undermined by the rats. The rooms were low and damp, the clammy walls were pierced with chinks and holes. To this inviting spot Mr. Quilp led Richard Swiveller.

22

Roads stretch a long, long way. The old man and the child passed, without stopping, two or three inconsiderable clusters of cottages, a public-house where they had some bread and cheese, and they were very weary and fatigued.

In the evening they arrived at a point where the road made a sharp turn and struck across a common[65]65
  struck across a common – круто сворачивала через выгон


[Закрыть]. On the border of this common, and close to the hedge which divided it from the cultivated fields, a caravan was drawn up to rest.

It was not a shabby, dingy, dusty cart, but a smart little house upon wheels, with white dimity curtains festooning the windows. Neither was it a gypsy caravan, for at the open door sat a Christian lady, stout and comfortable to look upon, who wore a large bonnet trembling with bows. This lady was drinking tea. The tea-things, including a bottle and a cold knuckle of ham, were set forth upon a drum, covered with a white napkin.

It happened that at that moment the lady beheld an old man and a young child walking slowly by.

“Hey!” cried the lady of the caravan. “Yes, to be sure, who won the prize, child?”

“Won what, ma’am?” asked Nell.

“The prize, at the races, child.”

“I don’t know, ma’am.”

“Don’t know!” repeated the lady of the caravan; “why, you were there. I saw you with my own eyes.”

Nell was not a little alarmed to hear this.

“And very sorry I was,” said the lady of the caravan, “to see you in company with a Punch; a low, practical, vulgar wretch.”

“I was there by chance,” returned the child; “we didn’t know our way, and the two men were very kind to us, and let us travel with them. Do you do you know them, ma’am?”

“Know them, child!” cried the lady of the caravan in a sort of shriek. “Know them! But you’re young and inexperienced, and that’s your excuse for asking such a question.”

“Oh ma’am,” said the child, fearing she had committed some grievous fault. “I beg your pardon.”

It was granted immediately. The child then explained that they had left the races, and were travelling to the next town on that road, where they purposed to spend the night.

“Come nearer, nearer still,” said the lady of the caravan, “Are you hungry, child?”

“Not very, but we are tired, and it is a long way “

“Well, hungry or not, you had better have some tea,” rejoined her new acquaintance. “I suppose you are agreeable to that, old gentleman?”

The grandfather humbly pulled off his hat and thanked her. She handed down to them the tea-tray, the bread and butter, and the knuckle of ham. So they made a hearty meal and enjoyed it to the utmost.

The lady of the caravan alighted on the earth, and sat down upon the steps and called “George;” whereupon a man in a carter’s frock[66]66
  carter’s frock – извозчичья блуза


[Закрыть] appeared.

“Yes, ma’am,” said George.

“How did you find the cold pie[67]67
  cold pie – паштет


[Закрыть], George?”

“It wasn’t amiss, ma’am.”

“And the beer,” said the lady of the caravan, “is it passable, George?”

“It’s not bad, ma’am” George returned, “not bad at all.”

“We are not a heavy load, George?”

“That’s always what the ladies say,” replied the man. “What is the cause of this here?”

“Would these two travellers make much difference to the horses, if we took them with us?” asked his mistress, pointing to Nell and the old man, who were painfully preparing to resume their journey on foot.

“They’d make a difference in course,” said George doggedly.

“Would they make much difference?” repeated his mistress. “They can’t be very heavy.”

“The weight of the pair, mum!” said George.

After these words of George the lady offered the old man and the child to go forward in the caravan. Nell thanked her with unaffected earnestness. Their patroness then shut the door and sat herself down at an open window. So away they went, with a great noise of flapping and creaking and straining.

23

The lady of the caravan sat at one window in all the pride, and little Nell and her grandfather sat at the other in all the humility. At first the two travellers spoke little, and only in whispers, but as they grew more familiar with the place they conversed with greater freedom, and talked about the country through which they were passing, until the old man fell asleep. The lady of the caravan invited Nell to come and sit beside her.

“Well, child,” she said, “how do you like this way of travelling?”

Nell replied that she thought it was very pleasant indeed. The lady got up and brought out from a corner a large roll of canvas about a yard in width, which she laid upon the floor and spread open with her foot.

“There, child,” she said, “read that.”

Nell walked down to it, and read aloud, in enormous black letters, the inscription. “JARLEY’S WAX-WORK[68]68
  JARLEY’S WAX-WORK – Паноптикум Джарли


[Закрыть].”

“Read it again,” said the lady, complacently.

“Jarley’s Wax-Work,” repeated Nell.

“That’s me,” said the lady. “I am Mrs. Jarley.”

Mrs. Jarley unfolded another scroll, where was the inscription, “One hundred figures the full size of life[69]69
  full size of life – в натуральную величину


[Закрыть],” and then another scroll, on which was written, “The only stupendous collection of real wax-work in the world,” and then several smaller scrolls with such inscriptions as “Now exhibiting within”, “The genuine and only Jarley”, “Jarley’s unrivalled collection”, “Jarley is the delight of the Nobility and Gentry[70]70
  delight of the Nobility and Gentry – радость аристократии и дворянства


[Закрыть]“, “The Royal Family are the patrons of Jarley.”

“Never go into the company of a filthy Punch any more,” said Mrs. Jarley, “after this.”

“I never saw any wax-work, ma’am,” said Nell. “Is it funnier than Punch?”

“Funnier!” said Mrs. Jarley in a shrill voice. “It is not funny at all.”

“Oh!” said Nell, with all possible humility.

“It isn’t funny at all,” repeated Mrs. Jarley. “It’s calm and classical. No low beatings, no jokings and squeakings like your precious Punches!”

“Is it here, ma’am?” asked Nell.

“Is what here, child?”

“The wax-work, ma’am.”

“Why, bless you, child, what are you thinking of? How could such a collection be here, where you see everything except the inside of one little cupboard and a few boxes? It’s in the other wans, and there it’ll be exhibited the day after tomorrow. You are going to the same town, and you’ll see it I dare say.”

“I shall not be in the town, I think, ma’am,” said the child.

“Not there?” cried Mrs. Jarley. “Then where will you be?”

“I don’t quite know. I am not certain.”

“You don’t mean to say that you’re travelling about the country without knowing where you’re going to?” said the lady of the caravan. “What curious people you are!”

“We are poor people, ma’am,” returned Nell, “and are only wandering about. We have nothing to do; I wish we had.”

“You amaze me more and more,” said Mrs. Jarley. “Why, what do you call yourselves? Not beggars?”

“Indeed, ma’am, I don’t know what else we are,” returned the child.

“Lord bless me,” said the lady of the caravan. “I never heard of such a thing!”

She remained silent after this exclamation. Then she said:

“And yet you can read. And write too, I wonder?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said the child.

“Well, and what a thing that is,” returned Mrs. Jarley. “I can’t!”

Mrs. Jarley relapsed into a thoughtful silence, and remained in that state so long that Nell withdrew to the other window and rejoined her grandfather, who was now awake.

At length the lady of the caravan summoned the driver to come under the window at which she was seated, held a long conversation with him in a low tone of voice, and then beckoned Nell to approach.

“And the old gentleman too,” said Mrs. Jarley; “for I want to have a word with him. Do you want a good situation for your granddaughter, master? If you do, I can make it. What do you say?”

“I can’t leave her,” answered the old man. “We can’t separate. What will become of me without her?”

“I think you can take care of yourself,” retorted Mrs. Jarley sharply.

“Pray do not speak harshly to him,” said the child in an earnest whisper. “We are very thankful to you, but neither of us could part from the other.”

Mrs. Jarley looked at the old man, who tenderly took Nell’s hand and detained it in his own.

“If you want to employ yourself,” said Mrs. Jarley, “there is much work for you, too: to dust the figures, and take the checks, and so forth. What I want your granddaughter for, is to point them out to the people. It’s not a common offer, bear in mind, it’s Jarley’s wax-work, remember. This is an opportunity which may never occur again! Now, child?” cried Mrs. Jarley, as Nell turned towards her.

“We are very much obliged to you, ma’am,” said Nell,” and thankfully accept your offer.”

“And you’ll never be sorry for it,” returned Mrs. Jarley. “I’m pretty sure of that. So let us have a bit of supper.”