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英语天堂-第50部分
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garian fugitives make their way; against all the search…warrants and authorities of their lawful government; to America; press and political cabinet ring with applause and welcome。 When despairing African fugitives do the same thing;—it is—what is it?
Be it as it may; it is certain that the attitude; eye; voice; manner; of the speaker for a moment struck the party below to silence。 There is something in boldness and determination that for a time hushes even the rudest nature。 Marks was the only one who remained wholly untouched。 He was deliberately cocking his pistol; and; in the momentary silence that followed George’s speech; he fired at him。
“Ye see ye get jist as much for him dead as alive in Kentucky;” he said coolly; as he wiped his pistol on his coat…sleeve。
George sprang backward;—Eliza uttered a shriek;—the ball had passed close to his hair; had nearly grazed the cheek of his wife; and struck in the tree above。
“It’s nothing; Eliza;” said George; quickly。
“Thee’d better keep out of sight; with thy speechifying;” said Phineas; “they’re mean scamps。”
“Now; Jim;” said George; “look that your pistols are all right; and watch that pass with me。 The first man that shows himself I fire at; you take the second; and so on。 It won’t do; you know; to waste two shots on one。”
“But what if you don’t hit?”
“I shall hit;” said George; coolly。
“Good! now; there’s stuff in that fellow;” muttered Phineas; between his teeth。
The party below; after Marks had fired; stood; for a moment; rather undecided。
“I think you must have hit some on ’em;” said one of the men。 “I heard a squeal!”
“I’m going right up for one;” said Tom。 “I never was afraid of niggers; and I an’t going to be now。 Who goes after?” he said; springing up the rocks。
George heard the words distinctly。 He drew up his pistol; examined it; pointed it towards that point in the defile where the first man would appear。
One of the most courageous of the party followed Tom; and; the way being thus made; the whole party began pushing up the rock;—the hindermost pushing the front ones faster than they would have gone of themselves。 On they came; and in a moment the burly form of Tom appeared in sight; almost at the verge of the chasm。
George fired;—the shot entered his side;—but; though wounded; he would not retreat; but; with a yell like that of a mad bull; he was leaping right across the chasm into the party。
“Friend;” said Phineas; suddenly stepping to the front; and meeting him with a push from his long arms; “thee isn’t wanted here。”
Down he fell into the chasm; crackling down among trees; bushes; logs; loose stones; till he lay bruised and groaning thirty feet below。 The fall might have killed him; had it not been broken and moderated by his clothes catching in the branches of a large tree; but he came down with some force; however;—more than was at all agreeable or convenient。
“Lord help us; they are perfect devils!” said Marks; heading the retreat down the rocks with much more of a will than he had joined the ascent; while all the party came tumbling precipitately after him;—the fat constable; in particular; blowing and puffing in a very energetic manner。
“I say; fellers;” said Marks; “you jist go round and pick up Tom; there; while I run and get on to my horse to go back for help;—that’s you;” and; without minding the hootings and jeers of his company; Marks was as good as his word; and was soon seen galloping away。
“Was ever such a sneaking varmint?” said one of the men; “to come on his business; and he clear out and leave us this yer way!”
“Well; we must pick up that feller;” said another。 “Cuss me if I much care whether he is dead or alive。”
The men; led by the groans of Tom; scrambled and crackled through stumps; logs and bushes; to where that hero lay groaning and swearing with alternate vehemence。
“Ye keep it agoing pretty loud; Tom;” said one。 “Ye much hurt?”
“Don’t know。 Get me up; can’t ye? Blast that infernal Quaker! If it hadn’t been for him; I’d a pitched some on ’em down here; to see how they liked it。”
With much labor and groaning; the fallen hero was assisted to rise; and; with one holding him up under each shoulder; they got him as far as the horses。
“If you could only get me a mile back to that ar tavern。 Give me a handkerchief or something; to stuff into this place; and stop this infernal bleeding。”
George looked over the rocks; and saw them trying to lift the burly form of Tom into the saddle。 After two or three ineffectual attempts; he reeled; and fell heavily to the ground。
“O; I hope he isn’t killed!” said Eliza; who; with all the party; stood watching the proceeding。
“Why not?” said Phineas; “serves him right。”
“Because after death comes the judgment;” said Eliza。
“Yes;” said the old woman; who had been groaning and praying; in her Methodist fashion; during all the encounter; “it’s an awful case for the poor crittur’s soul。”
“On my word; they’re leaving him; I do believe;” said Phineas。
It was true; for after some appearance of irresolution and consultation; the whole party got on their horses and rode away。 When they were quite out of sight; Phineas began to bestir himself。
“Well; we must go down and walk a piece;” he said。 “I told Michael to go forward and bring help; and be along back here with the wagon; but we shall have to walk a piece along the road; I reckon; to meet them。 The Lord grant he be along soon! It’s early in the day; there won’t be much travel afoot yet a while; we an’t much more than two miles from our stopping…place。 If the road hadn’t been so rough last night; we could have outrun ’em entirely。”
As the party neared the fence; they discovered in the distance; along the road; their own wagon coming back; acomompanied by some men on horseback。
“Well; now; there’s Michael; and Stephen and Amariah;” exclaimed Phineas; joyfully。 “Now we are made—as safe as if we’d got there。”
“Well; do stop; then;” said Eliza; “and do something for that poor man; he’s groaning dreadfully。”
“It would be no more than Christian;” said George; “let’s take him up and carry him on。”
“And doctor him up among the Quakers!” said Phineas; “pretty well; that! Well; I don’t care if we do。 Here; let’s have a look at him;” and Phineas; who in the course of his hunting and backwoods life had acquired some rude experience of surgery; kneeled down by the wounded man; and began a careful examination of his condition。
“Marks;” said Tom; feebly; “is that you; Marks?”
“No; I reckon ’tan’t friend;” said Phineas。 “Much Marks cares for thee; if his own skin’s safe。 He’s off; long ago。”
“I believe I’m done for;” said Tom。 “The cussed sneaking dog; to leave me to die alone! My poor old mother always told me ’t would be so。”
“La sakes! jist hear the poor crittur。 He’s got a mammy; now;” said the old negress。 “I can’t help kinder pityin’ on him。”
“Softly; softly; don’t thee snap and snarl; friend;” said Phineas; as Tom winced and pushed his hand away。 “Thee has no chance; unless I stop the bleeding。” And Phineas busied himself with making some off…hand surgical arrangements with his own pocket…handkerchief; and such as could be mustered in the company。
“You pushed me down there;” said Tom; faintly。
“Well if I hadn’t thee would have pushed us down; thee sees;” said Phineas; as he stooped to apply his bandage。 “There; there;—let me fix this bandage。 We mean well to thee; we bear no malice。 Thee shall be taken to a house where they’ll nurse thee first rate; well as thy own mother could。”
Tom groaned; and shut his eyes。 In men of his class; vigor and resolution are entirely a physical matter; and ooze out with the flowing of the blood; and the gigantic fellow really looked piteous in his helplessness。
The other party now came up。 The seats were taken out of the wagon。 The buffalo…skins; doubled in fours; were spread all along one side; and four men; with great difficulty; lifted the heavy form of Tom into it。 Before he was gotten in; he fainted entirely。 The old negress; in the abundance of her compassion; sat down on the bottom; and took his head in her lap。 Eliza; George and Jim; bestowed themselves; as well as they could; in the remaining space and the whole party set forward。
“What do you think of him?” said George; who sat by Phineas in front。
“Well it’s only a pretty deep flesh…wound; but; then; tumbling and scratching down that place didn’t help him much。 It has bled pretty freely;—pretty much dreaned him out; courage and all;—but he’ll get over it; and may be learn a thing or two by it。”
“I’m glad to hear you say so;” said George。 “It would always be a heavy thought to me; if I’d caused his death; even in a just cause。”
“Yes;” said Phineas; “killing is an ugly operation; any way they’ll fix it;—man or beast。 I’ve seen a buck that was shot down and a dying; look that way on a feller with his eye; that it reely most made a feller feel wicked for killing on him; and human creatures is a more serious consideration yet; bein’; as thy wife says; that the judgment comes to ’em after death。 So I don’t know as our people’s notions on these matters is too strict; and; considerin’ how I was raised; I fell in with them pretty considerably。”
“What shall you do with this poor fellow?” said George。
“O; carry him along to Amariah’s。 There’s old Grandmam Stephens there;—Dorcas; they call her;—she’s most an amazin’ nurse。 She takes to nursing real natural; and an’t never better suited than when she gets a sick body to tend。 We may reckon on turning him over to her for a fortnight or so。”
A ride of about an hour more brought the party to a neat farmhouse; where the weary travellers were received to an abundant breakfast。 Tom Loker was soon carefully deposited in a much cleaner and softer bed than he had; ever been in the habit of ocomupying。 His wound was carefully dressed and bandaged; and he lay languidly opening and shutting his eyes on the white window…curtains and gently…gliding figures of his sick room; like a weary child。 And here; for the present; we shall take our leave of one party。
1 Ps。 73; “The End of the Wicked contrasted with that of the Righteous。”
Chapter 18
Miss Ophelia’s Experiences and Opinions
Our friend Tom; in his own simple musings; often compared his more fortunate lot; in the bondage into which he was cast; with that of Joseph in Egypt; and; in fact; as time went on; and he developed more and more under the eye of his master; the strength of the parallel increased。
St。 Clare was indolent and careless of money。 Hitherto the providing and marketing had been principally done by Adolph; who was; to the full; as careless and extravagant as his master; and; between them both; they had carried on the dispersing process with great alacrity。 Acomustomed; for many years; to regard his master’s property as his own care; Tom saw; with an uneasiness he could scarcely repress; the wasteful expenditure of the establishment; and; in the quiet; indirect way which his class often acquire; would sometimes make his own suggestions。
St。 Clare at first employed him ocomasionally; but; struck with his soundness of mind and good business capacity; he confided in him more and more; till gradually all the marketing and providing for the family were intrusted to him。
“No; no; Adolph;” he said; one day; as Adolph was deprecating the passing of power out of his hands; “let Tom alone。 You only understand what you want; Tom understands cost and come to; and there may be some end to money; bye and bye if we don’t let somebody do that。”
Trusted to an unlimited extent by a careless master; who handed him a bill without looking at it; and pocketed the change without counting it; Tom had every facility and temptation to dishonesty; and nothing but an impregnable simplicity of nature; strengthened by Christian faith; could have kept him from it。 But; to that nature; the very unbounded trust reposed in him was bond and seal for the most scrupulous acomuracy。
With Adolph the case had been different。 Thoughtless and self…indulgent; and unrestrained by a master who found it easier to indulge than to regulate; he had fallen into an absolute confusion as to meum tuum with regard to himself and his master; which sometimes troubled even St。 Clare。 His own good sense taught him that such a training of his servants was unjust and dangerous。 A sort of chronic remorse went with him everywhere; although not strong enough to make any decided change in his course; and this very remorse reacted again into indulgence。 He passed lightly over the most serious faults; because he told himself that; if he had done his part; his dependents had not fallen into them。
Tom regarded his gay; airy; handsome young master with an odd mixture of fealty; reverence; and fatherly solicitude。 That he never read the Bible; never went to church; that he jested and made free with any and every thing that came in the way of his wit; that he spent his Sunday evenings at the opera or theatre; that he went to wine parties; and clubs; and suppers; oftener than was at all expedient;—were all things that Tom could see as plainly as anybody; and on which he based a conviction that “Mas’r wasn’t a Christian;”—a conviction; however; which he would have been very slow to express to any one else; but on which he founded many prayers; in his own simple fashion; when he was by himself in his little dormitory。 Not that Tom had not his own way of speaking his mind ocomasionally; with something of the tact often observable in his class; as; for example; the very day after the Sabbath we have described; St。 Clare was invited out to a convivial party of choice spirits; and was helped home; between one and two o’clock at night; in a condition when the physical had decidedly attained the upper hand of the intellectual。 Tom and Adolph assisted to get him composed for the night; the latter in high spirits; evidently regarding the matter as a good joke; and laughing heartily at the rusticity of Tom’s horror; who really was simple enough to lie awake most of the rest of the night; praying for his young master。
“Well; Tom; what are you waiting for?” said St。 Clare; the next day; as he sat in his library; in dressing…gown and slippers。 St。 Clare had just been entrusting Tom with some money; and various commissions。 “Isn’t all right there; Tom?” he added; as Tom still stood waiting。
“I’m ’fraid not; Mas’r;” said Tom; with a grave face。
St。 Clare laid down his paper; and set down his coffee…cup; and looked at Tom。
“Why Tom; what’s the case? You look as solemn as a coffin。”
“I feel very bad; Mas’r。 I allays have thought that Mas’r would be good to everybody。”
“Well; Tom; haven’t I been? Come; now; what do you want? There’s something you haven’t got; I suppose; and this is the preface。”
“Mas’r allays been good to me。 I haven’t nothing to complain of on that head。 But there is one that Mas’r isn’t good to。”
“Why; Tom; what’s got into you? Speak out; what do you mean?”
“ night; between one and two; I thought so。 I studied upon the matter then。 Mas’r isn’t good to himself。”
Tom said this with his back to his master; and his hand on the door…knob。 St。 Clare felt his face flush crimson; b
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