hans brinker-第16部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


d　it　a　shame　that　a　goose…girl；　a　forlorn　little　creature　like　Gretel；　should　be　allowed　to　spoil　the　race。

Rychie　Korbes；　being　rich　and　powerful　（in　a　schoolgirl　way）；　had　other　followers　besides　Katrinka　who　were　induced　to　share　her　opinions　because　they　were　either　too　careless　or　too　cowardly　to　think　for　themselves。

Poor　little　Gretel！　　Her　home　was　sad　and　dark　enough　now。　　Raff　Brinker　lay　moaning　upon　his　rough　bed；　and　his　vrouw；　forgetting　and　forgiving　everything；　bathed　his　forehead；　his　lips；　weeping　and　praying　that　he　might　not　die。　　Hans；　as　we　know；　had　started　in　desperation　for　Leyden　to　search　for　Dr。　Boekman　and　induce　him；　if　possible；　to　come　to　their　father　at　once。　　Gretel；　filled　with　a　strange　dread；　had　done　the　work　as　well　as　she　could；　wiped　the　rough　brick　floor；　brought　peat　to　build　up　the　slow　fire；　and　melted　ice　for　her　mother's　use。　　This　accomplished；　she　seated　herself　upon　a　low　stool　near　the　bed　and　begged　her　mother　to　try　to　sleep　awhile。

〃You　are　so　tired；〃　she　whispered。　　〃Not　once　have　you　closed　your　eyes　since　that　dreadful　hour　last　night。　　See；　I　have　straightened　the　willow　bed　in　the　corner；　and　spread　everything　soft　upon　it　I　could　find；　so　that　the　mother　might　lie　in　comfort。　　Here　is　your　jacket。　　Take　off　that　pretty　dress。　　I'll　fold　it　away　very　carefully　and　put　it　in　the　big　chest　before　you　go　to　sleep。〃

Dame　Brinker　shook　her　head　without　turning　her　eyes　from　her　husband's　face。

〃I　can　watch；　mother；〃　urged　Gretel；　〃and　I'll　wake　you　every　time　the　father　stirs。　　You　are　so　pale；　and　your　eyes　are　so　red！　　Oh；　mother；　DO！〃

The　child　pleaded　in　vain。　　Dame　Brinker　would　not　leave　her　post。

Gretel　looked　at　her　in　troubled　silence；　wondering　whether　it　were　very　wicked　to　care　more　for　one　parent　than　for　the　other；　and　sureyes；　quite　surethat　she　dreaded　her　father　while　she　clung　to　her　mother　with　a　love　that　was　almost　idolatry。

Hans　loves　the　father　so　well；　she　thought；　why　cannot　I？　　Yet　I　could　not　help　crying　when　I　saw　his　hand　bleed　that　day；　last　month；　when　he　snatched　the　knifeand　now；　when　he　moans；　how　I　ache；　ache　all　over。　　Perhaps　I　love　him；　after　all；　and　God　will　see　that　I　am　not　such　a　bad；　wicked　girl　as　I　thought。　　Yes；　I　love　the　poor　fatheralmost　as　Hans　doesnot　quite；　for　Hans　is　stronger　and　does　not　fear　him。　　Oh；　will　that　moaning　go　on　forever　and　ever！　　Poor　mother；　how　patient　she　is；　SHE　never　pouts；　as　I　do；　about　the　money　that　went　away　so　strangely。　　If　he　only　could；　for　one　instant；　open　his　eyes　and　look　at　us；　as　Hans　does；　and　tell　us　where　mother's　guilders　went；　I　would　not　care　for　the　rest。　　Yes；　I　would　care；　I　don't　want　the　poor　father　to　die；　to　be　all　blue　and　cold　like　Annie　Bouman's　little　sister。　　I　KNOW　I　don't。　　Dear　God；　I　don't　want　Father　to　die。

Her　thoughts　merged　into　a　prayer。　　When　it　ended　the　poor　child　scarcely　knew。　　Soon　she　found　herself　watching　a　little　pulse　of　light　at　the　side　of　the　fire；　beating　faintly　but　steadily；　showing　that　somewhere　in　the　dark　pile　there　was　warmth　and　light　that　would　overspread　it　at　last。　　A　large　earthen　cup　filled　with　burning　peat　stood　near　the　bedside；　Gretel　had　placed　it　there　to　〃stop　the　father's　shivering；〃　she　said。　　She　watched　it　as　it　sent　a　glow　around　the　mother's　form；　tipping　her　faded　skirt　with　light　and　shedding　a　sort　of　newness　over　the　threadbare　bodice。　　It　was　a　relief　to　Gretel　to　see　the　lines　in　that　weary　face　soften　as　the　firelight　flickered　gently　across　it。

Next　she　counted　the　windowpanes；　broken　and　patched　as　they　were；　and　finally；　after　tracing　every　crack　and　seam　in　the　walls；　fixed　her　gaze　upon　a　carved　shelf　made　by　Hans。　　The　shelf　hung　as　high　as　Gretel　could　reach。　　It　held　a　large　leather…covered　Bible　with　brass　clasps；　a　wedding　present　to　Dame　Brinker　from　the　family　at　Heidelberg。

Ah；　how　handy　Hans　is！　　If　he　were　here；　he　could　turn　the　father　some　way　so　the　moans　would　stop。　　Dear；　dear！　　If　this　sickness　lasts；　we　shall　never　skate　anymore。　　I　must　send　my　new　skates　back　to　the　beautiful　lady。　　Hans　and　I　will　not　see　the　race。　　And　Gretel's　eyes；　that　had　been　dry　before；　grew　full　of　tears。

〃Never　cry；　child；〃　said　her　mother　soothingly。　　〃This　sickness　may　not　be　as　bad　as　we　think。　　The　father　has　lain　this　way　before。〃

Gretel　sobbed　now。

〃Oh；　mother；　it　is　not　that　aloneyou　do　not　know　all。　　I　am　very；　very　bad　and　wicked！〃

〃YOU；　Gretel！　you　so　patient　and　good！〃　and　a　bright；　puzzled　look　beamed　for　an　instant　upon　the　child。　　〃Hush；　lovey；　you'll　wake　him。〃

Gretel　hid　her　face　in　her　mother's　lap　and　tried　not　to　cry。

Her　little　hand；　so　thin　and　brown；　lay　in　the　coarse　palm　of　her　mother's；　creased　with　many　a　hard　day's　work。　　Rychie　would　have　shuddered　to　touch　either；　yet　they　pressed　warmly　upon　each　other。　　Soon　Gretel　looked　up　with　that　dull；　homely　look　which；　they　say；　poor　children　in　shanties　are　apt　to　have；　and　said　in　a　trembling　voice；　〃The　father　tried　to　burn　youhe　didI　saw　him；　and　he　was　LAUGHING！〃

〃Hush；　child！〃

The　mother's　words　came　so　suddenly　and　sharply　that　Raff　Brinker；　dead　as　he　was　to　all　that　was　passing　around　him；　twitched　slightly　upon　the　bed。

Gretel　said　no　more　but　plucked　drearily　at　the　jagged　edge　of　a　hole　in　her　mother's　holiday　gown。　　It　had　been　burned　there。　　Well　for　Dame　Brinker　that　the　gown　was　woolen。




HaarlemThe　Boys　Hear　Voices



Refreshed　and　rested；　our　boys　came　forth　from　the　coffeehouse　just　as　the　big　clock　in　the　square；　after　the　manner　of　certain　Holland　timekeepers；　was　striking　two　with　its　half…hour　bell　for　half…past　two。

The　captain　was　absorbed　in　thought；　at　first；　for　Hans　Brinker's　sad　story　still　echoed　in　his　ears。　　Not　until　Ludwig　rebuked　him　with　a　laughing　〃Wake　up；　grandfather！〃　did　he　reassume　his　position　as　gallant　boy…leader　of　his　band。

〃Ahem！　this　way；　young　gentlemen！〃

They　were　walking　through　the　city；　not　on　a　curbed　sidewalk；　for　such　a　thing　is　rarely　to　be　found　in　Holland；　but　on　the　brick　pavement　that　lay　on　the　borders　of　the　cobblestone　carriage…way　without　breaking　its　level　expanse。

Haarlem；　like　Amsterdam；　was　gayer　than　usual；　in　honor　of　Saint　Nicholas。

A　strange　figure　was　approaching　them。　　It　was　a　small　man　dressed　in　black；　with　a　short　cloak。　　He　wore　a　wig　and　a　cocked　hat　from　which　a　long　crepe　streamer　was　flying。

〃Who　comes　here？〃　cried　Ben。　　〃What　a　queer…looking　object。〃

〃That's　the　aanspreeker；〃　said　Lambert。　　〃Someone　is　dead。〃

〃Is　that　the　way　men　dress　in　mourning　in　this　country？〃

〃Oh；　no！　　The　aanspreeker　attends　funerals；　and　it　is　his　business；　when　anyone　dies；　to　notify　all　the　friends　and　relatives。〃

〃What　a　strange　custom。〃

〃Well；〃　said　Lambert；　〃we　needn't　feel　very　badly　about　this　particular　death；　for　I　see　another　man　has　lately　been　born　to　the　world　to　fill　up　the　vacant　place。〃

Ben　stared。　　〃How　do　you　know　that？〃

〃Don't　you　see　that　pretty　red　pincushion　hanging　on　yonder　door？〃　asked　Lambert　in　return。

〃Yes。〃

〃Well；　that's　a　boy。〃

〃A　boy！　　What　do　you　mean？〃

〃I　mean　that　here　in　Haarlem；　whenever　a　boy　is　born；　the　parents　have　a　red　pincushion　put　out　at　the　door。　　If　our　young　friend　had　been　a　girl　instead　of　a　boy；　the　cushion　would　have　been　white。　　In　some　places　they　have　much　more　fanciful　affairs；　all　trimmed　with　lace；　and　even　among　the　very　poorest　houses　you　will　see　a　bit　of　ribbon　or　even　a　string　tied　on　the　door　latch〃

〃Look！〃　screamed　Ben。　　〃There　IS　a　white　cushion　at　the　door　of　that　double…joined　house　with　the　funny　roof。〃

〃I　don't　see　any　house　with　a　funny　roof。〃

〃Oh；　of　course　not；〃　said　Ben。　　〃I　forgot　you're　a　native；　but　all　the　roofs　are　queer　to　me；　for　that　matter。　　I　mean　the　house　next　to　that　green　building。〃

〃True　enough；　there's　a　girl！　　I　tell　you　what；　captain；〃　called　out　Lambert；　slipping　easily　into　Dutch；　〃we　must　get　out　of　this　street　as　soon　as　possible。　　It's　full　of　babies！　　They'll　set　up　a　squall　in　a　moment。〃

The　captain　laughed。　　〃I　shall　take　you　to　hear　better　music　than　that；〃　he　said。　　〃We　are　just　in　time　to　hear　the　organ　of　Saint　Bavon。　　The　church　is　open　today。〃

〃What；　the　great　Haarlem　organ？〃　asked　Ben。　　〃That　will　be　a　treat　indeed。　　I　have　often　read　of　it；　with　its　tremendous　pipes；　and　its　vox　humana　*｛An　organ　stop　which　produces　an　effect　resembling　the　human　voice。｝　that　sounds　like　a　giant　singing。〃

〃The　same；〃　answered　Lambert　van　Mounen。

Peter　was　right。　　The　church　was　open；　though　not　for　religious　services。　　Someone　was　playing　upon　the　organ。　　As　the　boys　entered；　a　swell　of　sound　rushed　forth　to　meet　them。　　It　seemed　to　bear　them；　one　by　one；　into　the　shadows　of　the　building。

Louder　and　louder　it　grew　until　it　became　like　the　din　and　roar　of　some　mighty　tempest；　or　like　the　ocean　surging　upon　the　shore。　　In　the　midst　of　the　tumult　a　tinkling　bell　was　heard；　another　answered；　then　another；　and　the　storm　paused　as　if　to　listen。　　The　bells　grew　bolder；　they　rang　out　loud　and　clear。　　Other　deep…toned　bells　joined　in；　they　were　tolling　in　solemn　concertding；　dong！　ding；　dong！　　The　storm　broke　forth　with　redoubled　fury；　gathering　its　distant　thunder。　　The　boys　looked　at　each　other　but　did　not　speak。　　It　was　growing　serious。　　What　was　that？　　WHO　screamed？　　WHAT　screamedthat　terrible；　musical　scream？　　Was　it　man　or　demon？　　Or　was　it　some　monster　shut　up　behind　that　carved　brass　frame；　behind　those　great　silver　columnssome　despairing　monster　begging；　screaming　for　freedom！　　it　was　the　vox　humana！

At　last　an　answer　camesoft；　tender；　loving；　like　a　mother's　song。　　The　storm　grew　silent；　hidden　birds　sprang　forth　filling　the　air　with　glad；　ecstatic　music；　rising　higher　and　higher　until　the　last　faint　note　was　lost　in　the　distance。

The　vox　humana　was　stilled；　but　in　the　glorious　hymn　of　thanksgiving　that　now　arose；　one　could　almost　hear　the　throbbing　of　a　human　heart。　　What　did　it　mean？　　That　man's　imploring　cry　should　in　time　be　met　with　a　deep　content？　　That　gratitude　would　give　us　freedom？　　To　Peter　and　Ben　it　seemed　that　the　angels　were　singing。　　Their　eyes　grew　dim；　and　their　souls　dizzy　with　a　strange　joy。　　At　last；　as　if　borne　upward　by　invisible