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END
謝謝觀看
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END
謝謝觀看
looked as if the clouds were hurrying from him, as if the wail of the
wind and the shuddering of the grass were directed against him,
as if the low mysterious plashing of the water murmured at him, as
if the fitful autumn night were disturbed by him.
He glanced here, and he glanced there, sullenly but shrinkingly;
and sometimes stopped and turned about, and looked all round
him. Then he limped on again, toiling and muttering.
『To the devil with this plain that has no end! To the devil with
these stones that cut like knives! To the devil with this dismal
darkness, wrapping itself about one with a chill! I hate you!』
And he would have visited his hatred upon it all with the scowl
he threw about him, if he could. He trudged a little further; and
looking into the distance before him, stopped again. 『I, hungry,
thirsty, weary. You, imbeciles, where the lights are yonder, eating
and drinking, and warming yourselves at fires! I wish I had the
sacking of your town; I would repay you, my children!』
But the teeth he set at the town, and the hand he shook at the
town, brought the town no nearer; and the man was yet hungrier,
and thirstier, and wearier, when his feet were on its jagged
pavement, and he stood looking about him.
There was the hotel with its gateway, and its savoury smell of
cooking; there was the cafe with its bright windows, and its
rattling of dominoes; there was the dyer’s with its strips of red
cloth on the doorposts; there was the silversmith’s with its
earrings, and its offerings for altars; there was the tobacco dealer’s
with its lively group of soldier customers coming out pipe in
mouth; there were the bad odours of the town, and the rain and
the refuse in the kennels, and the faint lamps slung across the
road, and the huge Diligence, and its mountain of luggage, and its
six grey horses with their tails tied up, getting under weigh at the
coach office. But no small cabaret for a straitened traveller being
within sight, he had to seek one round the dark corner, where the
cabbage leaves lay thickest, trodden about the public cistern at
which women had not yet left off drawing water. There, in the
back street he found one, the Break of Day. The curtained
windows clouded the Break of Day, but it seemed light and warm,
and it announced in legible inscriptions with appropriate pictorial
embellishment of billiard cue and ball, that at the Break of Day
one could play billiards; that there one could find meat, drink, and
lodgings, whether one came on horseback, or came on foot; and
that it kept good wines, liqueurs, and brandy. The man turned the
handle of the Break of Day door, and limped in.
He touched his discoloured slouched hat, as he came in at the
door, to a few men who occupied the room. Two were playing
dominoes at one of the little tables; three or four were seated
round the stove, conversing as they smoked; the billiard-table in
the centre was left alone for the time; the landlady of the Daybreak
sat behind her little counter among her cloudy bottles of syrups,
baskets of cakes, and leaden drainage for glasses, working at her
needle.
Making his way to an empty little table in a corner of the room
behind the stove, he put down his knapsack and his cloak upon
the ground. As he raised his head from stooping to do so, he found
the landlady beside him.
『One can lodge here to-night, madame?』
『Perfectly!』 said the landlady in a high, sing-song, cheery voice.
『Good. One can dine—sup—what you please to call it?』
『Ah, perfectly!』 cried the landlady as before. 『Dispatch then,
madame, if you please. Something to eat, as quickly as you can;
and some wine at once. I am exhausted.』
『It is very bad weather, monsieur,』 said the landlady.
『Cursed weather.』
『And a very long road.』
『A cursed road.』
His hoarse voice failed him, and he rested his head upon his
hands until a bottle of wine was brought from the counter. Having
Charles Dickens