little dorrit-信丽(英文版)-第63部分

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retirement　from　the　pany；　and　to　sit　upon　the　stairs　until　she　had
had　her　laugh　out。　Meanwhile　Mr　Pancks；　looking；　not　without　some　pity；
at　Young　John；　slowly　and　thoughtfully　twisted　up　his　canvas　bag　as　if
he　were　wringing　its　neck。　The　lady；　returning　as　he　restored　it　to　his
pocket；　mixed　rum　and　water　for　the　party；　not　forgetting　her　fair　self；
and　handed　to　every　one　his　glass。　When　all　were　supplied；　Mr　Rugg　rose；
and　silently　holding　out　his　glass　at　arm's　length　above　the　centre　of
the　table；　by　that　gesture　invited　the　other　three　to　add　theirs；　and　to
unite　in　a　general　conspiratorial　clink。　The　ceremony　was　effective　up
to　a　certain　point；　and　would　have　been　wholly　so　throughout；　if　Miss
Rugg；　as　she　raised　her　glass　to　her　lips　in　pletion　of　it；　had　not
happened　to　look　at　Young　John；　when　she　was　again　so　overe　by　the
contemptible　icality　of　his　disinterestedness　as　to　splutter　some
ambrosial　drops　of　rum　and　water　around；　and　withdraw　in　confusion。

Such　was　the　dinner　without　precedent；　given　by　Pancks　at　Pentonville；
and　such　was　the　busy　and　strange　life　Pancks　led。　The　only　waking
moments　at　which　he　appeared　to　relax　from　his　cares；　and　to　recreate
himself　by　going　anywhere　or　saying　anything　without　a　pervading　object；
were　when　he　showed　a　dawning　interest　in　the　lame　foreigner　with　the
stick；　down　Bleeding　Heart　Yard。

The　foreigner；　by　name　John　Baptist　Cavalletto……they　called　him　Mr
Baptist　in　the　Yard……was　such　a　chirping；　easy；　hopeful　little　fellow；
that　his　attraction　for　Pancks　was　probably　in　the　force　of　contrast。
Solitary；　ost　necessary　words
of　the　only　language　in　which　he　could　municate　with　the　people　about
him；　he　went　with　the　stream　of　his　fortunes；　in　a　brisk　way　that　was
new　in　those　parts。　With　little　to　eat；　and　less　to　drink；　and　nothing
to　wear　but　what　he　wore　upon　him；　or　had　brought　tied　up　in　one　of　the
smallest　bundles　that　ever　were　seen；　he　put　as　bright　a　face　upon　it　as
if　he　were　in　the　most　flourishing　circumstances　when　he　first　hobbled
up　and　down　the　Yard；　humbly　propitiating　the　general　good…will　with　his
white　teeth。

It　was　uphill　work　for　a　foreigner；　lame　or　sound；　to　make　his　way　with
the　Bleeding　Hearts。　In　the　first　place；　they　were　vaguely　persuaded
that　every　foreigner　had　a　knife　about　him；　in　the　second；　they　held　it
to　be　a　sound　constitutional　national　axiom　that　he　ought　to　go　home　to
his　own　country。　They　never　thought　of　inquiring　how　many　of　their　own
countrymen　would　be　returned　upon　their　hands　from　divers　parts　of　the
world；　if　the　principle　were　generally　recognised；　they　considered　it
particularly　and　peculiarly　British。　In　the　third　place；　they　had　a
notion　that　it　was　a　sort　of　Divine　visitation　upon　a　foreigner　that　he
was　not　an　Englishman；　and　that　all　kinds　of　calamities　happened　to
his　country　because　it　did　things　that　England　did　not；　and　did　not　do
things　that　England　did。　In　this　belief；　to　be　sure；　they　had　long　been
carefully　trained　by　the　Barnacles　and　Stiltstalkings；　who　were　always
proclaiming　to　them；　officially；　that　no　country　which　failed　to　submit
itself　to　those　two　large　families　could　possibly　hope　to　be　under　the
protection　of　Providence；　and　who；　when　they　believed　it；　disparaged
them　in　private　as　the　most　prejudiced　people　under　the　sun。

This；　therefore；　might　be　called　a　political　position　of　the　Bleeding
Hearts；　but　they　entertained　other　objections　to　having　foreigners
in　the　Yard。　They　believed　that　foreigners　were　always　badly　off；　and
though　they　were　as　ill　off　themselves　as　they　could　desire　to　be；
that　did　not　diminish　the　force　of　the　objection。　They　believed　that
foreigners　were　dragooned　and　bayoed；　and　though　they　certainly　got
their　own　skulls　promptly　fractured　if　they　showed　any　ill…humour；　still
it　was　with　a　blunt　instrument；　and　that　didn't　count。　They　believed
that　foreigners　were　always　immoral；　and　though　they　had　an　occasional
assize　at　home；　and　now　and　then　a　divorce　case　or　so；　that　had　nothing
to　do　with　it。　They　believed　that　foreigners　had　no　independent　spirit；
as　never　being　escorted　to　the　poll　in　droves　by　Lord　Decimus　Tite
Barnacle；　with　colours　flying　and　the　tune　of　Rule　Britannia　playing。
Not　to　be　tedious；　they　had　many　other　beliefs　of　a　similar　kind。

Against　these　obstacles；　the　lame　foreigner　with　the　stick　had　to　make
head　as　well　as　he　could；　not　absolutely　single…handed；　because　Mr
Arthur　Clennam　had　remended　him　to　the　Plornishes　（he　lived　at　the
top　of　the　same　house）；　but　still　at　heavy　odds。　However；　the　Bleeding
Hearts　were　kind　hearts；　and　when　they　saw　the　little　fellow　cheerily
limping　about　with　a　good…humoured　face；　doing　no　harm；　drawing　no
knives；　mitting　no　outrageous　immoralities；　living　chiefly　on
farinaceous　and　milk　diet；　and　playing　with　Mrs　Plornish's　children　of
an　evening；　they　began　to　think　that　although　he　could　never　hope　to　be
an　Englishman；　still　it　would　be　hard　to　visit　that　affliction　on　his
head。　They　began　to　acmodate　themselves　to　his　level；　calling　him　'Mr
Baptist；'　but　treating　him　like　a　baby；　and　laughing　immoderately　at　his
lively　gestures　and　his　childish　English……more；　because　he　didn't　mind
it；　and　laughed　too。　They　spoke　to　him　in　very　loud　voices　as　if　he
were　stone　deaf。　They　constructed　sentences；　by　way　of　teaching　him　the
language　in　its　purity；　such　as　were　addressed　by　the　savages　to　Captain
Cook；　or　by　Friday　to　Robinson　Crusoe。　Mrs　Plornish　was　particularly
ingenious　in　this　art；　and　attained　so　much　celebrity　for　saying　'Me　ope
you　leg　well　soon；'　that　it　was　considered　in　the　Yard　but　a　very　short
remove　indeed　from　speaking　Italian。　Even　Mrs　Plornish　herself　began　to
think　that　she　had　a　natural　call　towards　that　language。　As　he　became
more　popular；　household　objects　were　brought　into　requisition　for　his
instruction　in　a　copious　vocabulary；　and　whenever　he　appeared　in　the
Yard　ladies　would　fly　out　at　their　doors　crying　'Mr　Baptist……tea…pot！'
'Mr　Baptist……dust…pan！'　'Mr　Baptist……flour…dredger！'　'Mr
Baptist……coffee…biggin！'　At　the　same　time　exhibiting　those　articles；
and　perating　him　with　a　sense　of　the　appalling　difficulties　of　the
Anglo…Saxon　tongue。

It　was　in　this　stage　of　his　progress；　and　in　about　the　third　week　of　his
occupation；　that　Mr　Pancks's　fancy　became　attracted　by　the　little　man。
Mounting　to　his　attic；　attended　by　Mrs　Plornish　as　interpreter；　he　found
Mr　Baptist　with　no　furniture　but　his　bed　on　the　ground；　a　table；　and　a
chair；　carving　with　the　aid　of　a　few　simple　tools；　in　the　blithest　way
possible。

'Now；　old　chap；'　said　Mr　Pancks；　'pay　up！'

He　had　his　money　ready；　folded　in　a　scrap　of　paper；　and　laughingly
handed　it　in；　then　with　a　free　action；　threw　out　as　many　fingers　of　his
right　hand　as　there　were　shillings；　and　made　a　cut　crosswise　in　the　air
for　an　odd　sixpence。

'Oh！'　said　Mr　Pancks；　watching　him；　wonderingly。　'That's　it；　is　it？
You're　a　quick　customer。　It's　all　right。　I　didn't　expect　to　receive　it；
though。'

Mrs　Plornish　here　interposed　with　great　condescension；　and　explained　to
Mr　Baptist。　'E　please。　E　glad　get　money。'

The　little　man　smiled　and　nodded。　His　bright　face　seemed　unmonly
attractive　to　Mr　Pancks。　'How's　he　getting　on　in　his　limb？'　he　asked　Mrs
Plornish。

'Oh；　he's　a　deal　better；　sir；'　said　Mrs　Plornish。　'We　expect　next　week
he'll　be　able　to　leave　off　his　stick　entirely。'　（The　opportunity
being　too　favourable　to　be　lost；　Mrs　Plornish　displayed　her　great
acplishment　by　explaining　with　pardonable　pride　to　Mr　Baptist；　'E　ope
you　leg　well　soon。'）

'He's　a　merry　fellow；　too；'　said　Mr　Pancks；　admiring　him　as　if　he　were　a
mechanical　toy。　'How　does　he　live？'

'Why；　sir；'　rejoined　Mrs　Plornish；　'he　turns　out　to　have　quite　a　power
of　carving　them　flowers　that　you　see　him　at　now。'　（Mr　Baptist；　watching
their　faces　as　they　spoke；　held　up　his　work。　Mrs　Plornish　interpreted　in
her　Italian　manner；　on　behalf　of　Mr　Pancks；　'E　please。　Double　good！'）

'Can　he　live　by　that？'　asked　Mr　Pancks。　'He　can　live　on　very　little；
sir；　and　it　is　expected　as　he　will　be　able；　in　time；　to　make　a　very　good
living。　Mr　Clennam　got　it　him　to　do；　and　gives　him　odd　jobs　besides　in
at　the　Works　next　door……makes　'em　for　him；　in　short；　when　he　knows　he
wants　'em。'

'And　what　does　he　do　with　himself；　now；　when　he　ain't　hard　at　it？'　said
Mr　Pancks。

'Why；　not　much　as　yet；　sir；　on　accounts　I　suppose　of　not　being　able　to
walk　much；　but　he　goes　about　the　Yard；　and　he　chats　without　particular
understanding　or　being　understood；　and　he　plays　with　the　children；
and　he　sits　in　the　sun……he'll　sit　down　anywhere；　as　if　it　was　an
arm…chair……and　he'll　sing；　and　he'll　laugh！'

'Laugh！'　echoed　Mr　Pancks。　'He　looks　to　me　as　if　every　tooth　in　his　head
was　always　laughing。'

'But　whenever　he　gets　to　the　top　of　the　steps　at　t'other　end　of　the
Yard；'　said　Mrs　Plornish；　'he'll　peep　out　in　the　curiousest　way！　So　that
some　of　us　thinks　he's　peeping　out　towards　where　his　own　country　is；　and
some　of　us　thinks　he's　looking　for　somebody　he　don't　want　to　see；　and
some　of　us　don't　know　what　to　think。'

Mr　Baptist　seemed　to　have　a　general　understanding　of　what　she　said；　or
perhaps　his　quickness　caught　and　applied　her　slight　action　of　peeping。
In　any　case　he　closed　his　eyes　and　tossed　his　head　with　the　air　of　a　man
who　had　sufficient　reasons　for　what　he　did；　and　said　in　his　own　tongue；
it　didn't　matter。　Altro！

'What's　Altro？'　said　Pancks。

'Hem！　It's　a　sort　of　a　general　kind　of　expression；　sir；'　said　Mrs
Plornish。

'Is　it？'　said　Pancks。　'Why；　then　Altro　to　you；　old　chap。　Good　afternoon。
Altro！'

Mr　Baptist　in　his　vivacious　way　repeating　the　word　several　times；　Mr
Pancks　in　his　duller　way　gave　it　him　back　once。　From　that　time　it　became
a　frequent　custom　with　Pancks　the　gipsy；　as　he　went　home　jaded　at　night；
to　pass　round　by　Bleeding　Heart　Yard；　go　quietly　up　the　stairs；　look　in
at　Mr　Baptist's　door；　and；　finding　him　in　his　room；　to　say；　'Hallo；　old
chap！　Altro！'　To　which　Mr　Baptist　would　reply　with　innumerable　bright
nods　and　smiles；　'Altro；　signore；　altro；　altro；　altro！'　After　this
highly　condensed　conversation；　Mr　Pancks　would　go　his　way　with　an
appearance　of　being　lightened　and　refreshed。




CHAPTER　26。　Nobody's　State　of　Mind


If　Arthur　Clennam　had　not　arrived　at　that　wise　decision　firmly　to
restrain　himself　from　loving　Pet；　he　would　have　lived　on　in　a　state　of
much　perplexity；　involving　difficult　struggles　with　his　own　heart。　Not
the　least　of　these　would　have　been　a　contention；　always　waging　within
it；　between　a　tendency　to　dislike　Mr　Henry　Gowan；　if　not　to　regard
him　with　positive　repugnance；　and　a　whisper　that　the　inclination　was
unworthy。　A　generous　nature　is　not　prone　to　strong　aversions；　and　is
slow　to　admit　them　even　dispassionately；　but　when　it　finds　ill…will
gaining　upon　it；　and　can　discern　between…whiles　that　its　origin　is　not
dispassionate；　such　a　nature　bees　distressed。

Therefore　Mr　Henry　Gowan　would　have　clouded　Clennam's　mind；　and　would
have　been　far　oftener　present　to　it　than　more　agreeable　persons　and
subjects　but　for　the　great　prudence　of　his　decision　aforesaid。　As　it
was；　Mr　Gowan　seemed　transferred　to　Daniel　Doyce's　mind；　at　all　events；
it　so　happ