david copperfield(大卫.科波维尔)-第7部分

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depth　in　it　to　be　looked　into—which；　when　it　is　abstracted；　seems　
from　some　peculiarity　of　light　to　be　disfigured；　for　a　moment　at　a　
time；　by　a　cast。　Several　times　when　I　glanced　at　him；　I　observed　
that　appearance　with　a　sort　of　awe；　and　wondered　what　he　was　
thinking　about　so　closely。　His　hair　and　whiskers　were　blacker　and　
thicker；　looked　at　so　near；　than　even　I　had　given　them　credit　for　
being。　A　squareness　about　the　lower　part　of　his　face；　and　the　

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David　Copperfield　

dotted　indication　of　the　strong　black　beard　he　shaved　close　every　
day；　reminded　me　of　the　wax…work　that　had　travelled　into　our　
neighbourhood　some　half…a…year　before。　This；　his　regular　
eyebrows；　and　the　rich　white；　and　black；　and　brown；　of　his　
complexion—confound　his　complexion；　and　his　memory！—made　
me　think　him；　in　spite　of　my　misgivings；　a　very　handsome　man。　I　
have　no　doubt　that　my　poor　dear　mother　thought　him　so　too。　

We　went　to　an　hotel　by　the　sea；　where　two　gentlemen　were　
smoking　cigars　in　a　room　by　themselves。　Each　of　them　was　lying　
on　at　least　four　chairs；　and　had　a　large　rough　jacket　on。　In　a　corner　
was　a　heap　of　coats　and　boat…cloaks；　and　a　flag；　all　bundled　up　
together。　

They　both　rolled　on　to　their　feet　in　an　untidy　sort　of　manner；　
when　we　came　in；　and　said；　‘Halloa；　Murdstone！　We　thought　you　
were　dead！’　

‘Not　yet；’　said　Mr。　Murdstone。　

‘And　who’s　this　shaver？’　said　one　of　the　gentlemen；　taking　hold　
of　me。　

‘That’s　Davy；’　returned　Mr。　Murdstone。　

‘Davy　who？’　said　the　gentleman。　‘Jones？’　

‘Copperfield；’　said　Mr。　Murdstone。　

‘What！　Bewitching　Mrs。　Copperfield’s　encumbrance？’　cried　the　
gentleman。　‘The　pretty　little　widow？’　

‘Quinion；’　said　Mr。　Murdstone；　‘take　care；　if　you　please。　
Somebody’s　sharp。’　

‘Who　is？’　asked　the　gentleman；　laughing。　I　looked　up；　quickly；　
being　curious　to　know。　

‘Only　Brooks　of　Sheffield；’　said　Mr。　Murdstone。　

I　was　quite　relieved　to　find　that　it　was　only　Brooks　of　Sheffield；　

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for；　at　first；　I　really　thought　it　was　I。　

There　seemed　to　be　something　very　comical　in　the　reputation　of　
Mr。　Brooks　of　Sheffield；　for　both　the　gentlemen　laughed　heartily　
when　he　was　mentioned；　and　Mr。　Murdstone　was　a　good　deal　
amused　also。　After　some　laughing；　the　gentleman　whom　he　had　
called　Quinion；　said：　

‘And　what　is　the　opinion　of　Brooks　of　Sheffield；　in　reference　to　
the　projected　business？’　

‘Why；　I　don’t　know　that　Brooks　understands　much　about　it　at　
present；’　replied　Mr。　Murdstone；　‘but　he　is　not　generally　
favourable；　I　believe。’　

There　was　more　laughter　at　this；　and　Mr。　Quinion　said　he　
would　ring　the　bell　for　some　sherry　in　which　to　drink　to　Brooks。　
This　he　did；　and　when　the　wine　came；　he　made　me　have　a　little；　
with　a　biscuit；　and；　before　I　drank　it；　stand　up　and　say；　‘Confusion　
to　Brooks　of　Sheffield！’　The　toast　was　received　with　great　
applause；　and　such　hearty　laughter　that　it　made　me　laugh　too；　at　
which　they　laughed　the　more。　In　short；　we　quite　enjoyed　
ourselves。　

We　walked　about　on　the　cliff　after　that；　and　sat　on　the　grass；　
and　looked　at　things　through　a　telescope—I　could　make　out　
nothing　myself　when　it　was　put　to　my　eye；　but　I　pretended　I　
could—and　then　we　came　back　to　the　hotel　to　an　early　dinner。　All　
the　time　we　were　out；　the　two　gentlemen　smoked　incessantly—　
which；　I　thought；　if　I　might　judge　from　the　smell　of　their　rough　
coats；　they　must　have　been　doing；　ever　since　the　coats　had　first　
come　home　from　the　tailor’s。　I　must　not　forget　that　we　went　on　
board　the　yacht；　where　they　all　three　descended　into　the　cabin；　
and　were　busy　with　some　papers。　I　saw　them　quite　hard　at　work；　

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when　I　looked　down　through　the　open　skylight。　They　left　me；　
during　this　time；　with　a　very　nice　man　with　a　very　large　head　of　
red　hair　and　a　very　small　shiny　hat　upon　it；　who　had　got　a　cross…
barred　shirt　or　waistcoat　on；　with　‘Skylark’　in　capital　letters　across　
the　chest。　I　thought　it　was　his　name；　and　that　as　he　lived　on　board　
ship　and　hadn’t　a　street　door　to　put　his　name　on；　he　put　it　there　
instead；　but　when　I　called　him　Mr。　Skylark；　he　said　it　meant　the　
vessel。　

I　observed　all　day　that　Mr。　Murdstone　was　graver　and　steadier　
than　the　two　gentlemen。　They　were　very　gay　and　careless。　They　
joked　freely　with　one　another；　but　seldom　with　him。　It　appeared　to　
me　that　he　was　more　clever　and　cold　than　they　were；　and　that　they　
regarded　him　with　something　of　my　own　feeling。　I　remarked　that；　
once　or　twice　when　Mr。　Quinion　was　talking；　he　looked　at　Mr。　
Murdstone　sideways；　as　if　to　make　sure　of　his　not　being　
displeased；　and　that　once　when　Mr。　Passnidge　（the　other　
gentleman）　was　in　high　spirits；　he　trod　upon　his　foot；　and　gave　him　
a　secret　caution　with　his　eyes；　to　observe　Mr。　Murdstone；　who　was　
sitting　stern　and　silent。　Nor　do　I　recollect　that　Mr。　Murdstone　
laughed　at　all　that　day；　except　at　the　Sheffield　joke—and　that；　by　
the　by；　was　his　own。　

We　went　home　early　in　the　evening。　It　was　a　very　fine　evening；　
and　my　mother　and　he　had　another　stroll　by　the　sweetbriar；　while　
I　was　sent　in　to　get　my　tea。　When　he　was　gone；　my　mother　asked　
me　all　about　the　day　I　had　had；　and　what　they　had　said　and　done。　I　
mentioned　what　they　had　said　about　her；　and　she　laughed；　and　
told　me　they　were　impudent　fellows　who　talked　nonsense—but　I　
knew　it　pleased　her。　I　knew　it　quite　as　well　as　I　know　it　now。　I　took　
the　opportunity　of　asking　if　she　was　at　all　acquainted　with　Mr。　

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Brooks　of　Sheffield；　but　she　answered　No；　only　she　supposed　he　
must　be　a　manufacturer　in　the　knife　and　fork　way。　

Can　I　say　of　her　face—altered　as　I　have　reason　to　remember　it；　
perished　as　I　know　it　is—that　it　is　gone；　when　here　it　comes　before　
me　at　this　instant；　as　distinct　as　any　face　that　I　may　choose　to　look　
on　in　a　crowded　street？　Can　I　say　of　her　innocent　and　girlish　
beauty；　that　it　faded；　and　was　no　more；　when　its　breath　falls　on　my　
cheek　now；　as　it　fell　that　night？　Can　I　say　she　ever　changed；　when　
my　remembrance　brings　her　back　to　life；　thus　only；　and；　truer　to　
its　loving　youth　than　I　have　been；　or　man　ever　is；　still　holds　fast　
what　it　cherished　then？　

I　write　of　her　just　as　she　was　when　I　had　gone　to　bed　after　this　
talk；　and　she　came　to　bid　me　good　night。　She　kneeled　down　
playfully　by　the　side　of　the　bed；　and　laying　her　chin　upon　her　
hands；　and　laughing；　said：　

‘What　was　it　they　said；　Davy？　Tell　me　again。　I　can’t　believe　it。’　

‘“Bewitching—”’　I　began。　

My　mother　put　her　hands　upon　my　lips　to　stop　me。　

‘It　was　never　bewitching；’　she　said；　laughing。　‘It　never　could　
have　been　bewitching；　Davy。　Now　I　know　it　wasn’t！’　

‘Yes；　it　was。　“Bewitching　Mrs。　Copperfield”；’　I　repeated　stoutly。　
‘And；　“pretty。”’　

‘No；　no；　it　was　never　pretty。　Not　pretty；’　interposed　my　mother；　
laying　her　fingers　on　my　lips　again。　

‘Yes　it　was。　“Pretty　little　widow。”’　

‘What　foolish；　impudent　creatures！’　cried　my　mother；　laughing　
and　covering　her　face。　‘What　ridiculous　men！　An’t　they？　Davy　
dear—’　

‘Well；　Ma。’　

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‘Don’t　tell　Peggotty；　she　might　be　angry　with　them。　I　am　
dreadfully　angry　with　them　myself；　but　I　would　rather　Peggotty　
didn’t　know。’　

I　promised；　of　course；　and　we　kissed　one　another　over　and　over　
again；　and　I　soon　fell　fast　asleep。　

It　seems　to　me；　at　this　distance　of　time；　as　if　it　were　the　next　day　
when　Peggotty　broached　the　striking　and　adventurous　proposition　
I　am　about　to　mention；　but　it　was　probably　about　two　months　
afterwards。　

We　were　sitting　as　before；　one　evening　（when　my　mother　was　
out　as　before）；　in　company　with　the　stocking　and　the　yard…
measure；　and　the　bit　of　wax；　and　the　box　with　St。　Paul’s　on　the　lid；　
and　the　crocodile　book；　when　Peggotty；　after　looking　at　me　several　
times；　and　opening　her　mouth　as　if　she　were　going　to　speak；　
without　doing　it—which　I　thought　was　merely　gaping；　or　I　should　
have　been　rather　alarmed—said　coaxingly：　

‘Master　Davy；　how　should　you　like　to　go　along　with　me　and　
spend　a　fortnight　at　my　brother’s　at　Yarmouth？　Wouldn’t　that　be　a　
treat？’　

‘Is　your　brother　an　agreeable　man；　Peggotty？’　I　inquired；　
provisionally。　

‘Oh；　what　an　agreeable　man　he　is！’　cried　Peggotty；　holding　up　
her　hands。　‘Then　there’s　the　sea；　and　the　boats　and　ships；　and　the　
fishermen；　and　the　beach；　and　Am　to　play　with—’　

Peggotty　meant　her　nephew　Ham；　mentioned　in　my　first　
chapter；　but　she　spoke　of　him　as　a　morsel　of　English　Grammar。　

I　was　flushed　by　her　summary　of　delights；　and　replied　that　it　
would　indeed　be　a　treat；　but　what　would　my　mother　say？　

‘Why　then　I’ll　as　good　as　bet　a　guinea；’　said　Peggotty；　intent　

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upon　my　face；　‘that　she’ll　let　us　go。　I’ll　ask　her；　if　you　like；　as　soon　
as　ever　she　comes　home。　There　now！’　

‘But　what’s　she　to　do　while　we’re　away？’　said　I；　putting　my　
small　elbows　on　the　table　to　argue　the　point。　‘She　can’t　live　by　
herself。’　

If　Peggotty　were　looking　for　a　hole；　all　of　a　sudden；　in　the　heel　
of　that　stocking；　it　must　have　been　a　very　little　one　indeed；　and　not　
worth　darning。　

‘I　say！　Peggotty！　She　can’t　live　by　herself；　you　know。’　

‘Oh；　bless　you！’　said　Peggotty；　looking　at　me　again　at　last。　‘Don’t　
you　know？　She’s　going　to　stay　for　a　fortnight　with　Mrs。　Grayper。　
Mrs。　Grayper’s　going　to　have　a　lot　of　company。’　

Oh！　If　that　was　it；　I　was　quite　ready　to　go。　I　waited；　in　the　
utmost　impatience；　until　my　mother　came　home　from　Mrs。　
Grayper’s　（for　it　was　that　identical　neighbour）；　to　ascertain　if　we　
could　get　leave　to　carry　out　this　great　idea。　Without　being　nearly　
so　much　surprised　as　I　had　expected；　my　mother　entered　into　it　
readily；　and　it　was　all　arranged　that　night；　and　my　board　and　
lodging　during　the　visit　were　to　be　paid　for。　

The　day　soon　came　for　our　going。　It　was　such　an　early