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hunted down(被猎)-第6章

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     The hand…carriage was spinning away before us at a most indecorous 

pace for   an   invalid vehicle;   and   was   making most   irregular   curves upon 

the sand。     Mr。  Slinkton; noticing   it   after he had   put his handkerchief  to 

his eyes; said; 

     'If  I  may   judge    from   appearances;      your   friend   will  be   upset;   Mr。 

Sampson。' 

     'It looks probable; certainly;' said I。 

     'The servant must be drunk。' 

     'The servants of old gentlemen will get drunk sometimes;' said I。 

     'The major draws very light; Mr。 Sampson。' 

     'The major does draw light;' said I。 

     By this time the carriage; much to my relief; was lost in the darkness。 

We walked on for a little; side by side over the sand; in silence。                 After a 

short while he said; in a voice still affected by the emotion that his niece's 

state of health had awakened in him; 

     'Do you stay here long; Mr。 Sampson?' 

     'Why; no。     I am going away to…night。' 

     'So soon?      But business always holds you in request。              Men like Mr。 

Sampson   are   too   important   to   others;   to   be   spared   to   their   own   need   of 

relaxation and enjoyment。' 

     'I don't know about that;' said I。       'However; I am going back。' 

     'To London?' 

     'To London。' 

     'I shall be there too; soon after you。' 

     I knew that as well as he did。          But I did not tell him so。        Any more 

than   I   told   him   what   defensive   weapon   my   right   hand   rested   on   in   my 

pocket; as I walked by his side。          Any more than I told him why I did not 

walk on the sea side of him with the night closing in。 

     We left the beach; and our ways diverged。              We exchanged goodnight; 

and had parted indeed; when he said; returning; 

     'Mr。   Sampson;   MAY   I   ask?      Poor   Meltham;   whom   we   spoke   of;   … 



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dead yet?' 

     'Not when I last heard of him; but too broken a man to live long; and 

hopelessly lost to his old calling。' 

     'Dear;   dear;   dear!'   said   he;   with   great   feeling。 'Sad;   sad;   sad!   The 

world is a grave!'      And so went his way。 

     It was not his fault if the world were not a grave; but I did not call that 

observation after him; any more than I had mentioned those other things 

just   now    enumerated。       He    went   his   way;   and   I  went    mine   with    all 

expedition。      This happened; as I have said; either at the end of September 

or beginning of October。          The next time I saw him; and the last time; was 

late in November。 



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                                             V。 



       I   had   a   very   particular   engagement   to   breakfast   in   the   Temple。 It 

was a bitter north…easterly morning; and the sleet and slush lay inches deep 

in the streets。    I could get no conveyance; and was soon wet to the knees; 

but I should have been true to that appointment; though I had to wade to it 

up to my neck in the same impediments。 

     The   appointment   took   me   to   some   chambers   in   the   Temple。       They 

were at the top of a lonely corner house overlooking the river。               The name; 

MR。 ALFRED BECKWITH; was painted on the outer door。                         On the door 

opposite; on the same landing; the name MR。 JULIUS SLINKTON。 The 

doors of both sets of chambers stood open; so that anything said aloud in 

one set could be heard in the other。 

     I had never been in those chambers before。             They were dismal; close; 

unwholesome; and oppressive; the furniture; originally good; and not yet 

old; was faded and dirty; … the rooms were in great disorder; there was a 

strong prevailing smell of opium; brandy; and tobacco; the grate and fire… 

irons were splashed all over with unsightly blotches of rust; and on a sofa 

by the fire; in the room where breakfast had been prepared; lay the host; 

Mr。    Beckwith;     a  man    with   all  the  appearances     of   the  worst   kind   of 

drunkard; very far advanced upon his shameful way to death。 

     'Slinkton is not come yet;' said this creature; staggering up when I went 

in;   'I'll   call   him。   …   Halloa! Julius   Caesar!  Come   and   drink!'     As   he 

hoarsely   roared   this   out;   he   beat   the   poker   and   tongs   together   in   a   mad 

way; as if that were his usual manner of summoning his associate。 

     The   voice   of   Mr。   Slinkton   was   heard   through   the   clatter   from   the 

opposite side of the staircase; and he came in。              He had not expected the 

pleasure   of   meeting   me。     I   have   seen   several   artful   men   brought   to   a 

stand; but I never saw a man so aghast as he was when his eyes rested on 



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mine。 

     'Julius Caesar;' cried Beckwith; staggering between us; 'Mist' Sampson! 

Mist' Sampson; Julius Caesar!           Julius; Mist' Sampson; is the friend of my 

soul。    Julius    keeps    me   plied   with   liquor;   morning;     noon;   and    night。 

Julius is a real benefactor。 Julius threw the tea and coffee out of window 

when     I  used   to  have   any。   Julius    empties    all  the  water…jugs     of  their 

contents; and fills 'em with spirits。 Julius winds me up and keeps me going。 

… Boil the brandy; Julius!' 

     There was a rusty and furred saucepan in the ashes; … the ashes looked 

like   the   accumulation   of   weeks;   …   and   Beckwith;   rolling   and   staggering 

between us as if he were going to plunge headlong into the fire; got the 

saucepan out; and tried to force it into Slinkton's hand。 

     'Boil the brandy; Julius Caesar!          Come!      Do your usual office。 Boil 

the brandy!' 

     He   became   so   fierce   in   his   gesticulations   with   the   saucepan;   that   I 

expected to see him lay open Slinkton's head with it。                I therefore put out 

my hand to check him。          He reeled back to the sofa; and sat there panting; 

shaking; and red…eyed; in his rags of dressing…gown; looking at us both。                   I 

noticed then that there was nothing to drink on the table but brandy; and 

nothing to eat but salted herrings; and a hot; sickly; highly…peppered stew。 

     'At   all   events;   Mr。   Sampson;'   said   Slinkton;   offering   me   the   smooth 

gravel path for the last time; 'I thank you for interfering between me and 

this unfortunate man's violence。       
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