david copperfield(大卫.科波维尔)-第51部分

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places　which　had　been　mentioned；　when　a　fly…driver；　coming　by　
with　his　carriage；　dropped　a　horsecloth。　Something　good…natured　
in　the　man’s　face；　as　I　handed　it　up；　encouraged　me　to　ask　him　if　
he　could　tell　me　where　Miss　Trotwood　lived；　though　I　had　asked　
the　question　so　often；　that　it　almost　died　upon　my　lips。　

‘Trotwood；’　said　he。　‘Let　me　see。　I　know　the　name；　too。　Old　
lady？’　

‘Yes；’　I　said；　‘rather。’　

‘Pretty　stiff　in　the　back？’　said　he；　making　himself　upright。　

‘Yes；’　I　said。　‘I　should　think　it　very　likely。’　

‘Carries　a　bag？’　said　he—‘bag　with　a　good　deal　of　room　in　it—is　
gruffish；　and　comes　down　upon　you；　sharp？’　

My　heart　sank　within　me　as　I　acknowledged　the　undoubted　
accuracy　of　this　description。　

‘Why　then；　I　tell　you　what；’　said　he。　‘If　you　go　up　there；’　pointing　
with　his　whip　towards　the　heights；　‘and　keep　right　on　till　you　come　
to　some　houses　facing　the　sea；　I　think　you’ll　hear　of　her。　My　
opinion　is　she　won’t　stand　anything；　so　here’s　a　penny　for　you。’　

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David　Copperfield　

I　accepted　the　gift　thankfully；　and　bought　a　loaf　with　it。　
Dispatching　this　refreshment　by　the　way；　I　went　in　the　direction　
my　friend　had　indicated；　and　walked　on　a　good　distance　without　
coming　to　the　houses　he　had　mentioned。　At　length　I　saw　some　
before　me；　and　approaching　them；　went　into　a　little　shop　（it　was　
what　we　used　to　call　a　general　shop；　at　home）；　and　inquired　if　they　
could　have　the　goodness　to　tell　me　where　Miss　Trotwood　lived。　I　
addressed　myself　to　a　man　behind　the　counter；　who　was　weighing　
some　rice　for　a　young　woman；　but　the　latter；　taking　the　inquiry　to　
herself；　turned　round　quickly。　

‘My　mistress？’　she　said。　‘What　do　you　want　with　her；　boy？’　

‘I　want；’　I　replied；　‘to　speak　to　her；　if　you　please。’　

‘To　beg　of　her；　you　mean；’　retorted　the　damsel。　

‘No；’　I　said；　‘indeed。’　But　suddenly　remembering　that　in　truth　I　
came　for　no　other　purpose；　I　held　my　peace　in　confusion；　and　felt　
my　face　burn。　

My　aunt’s　handmaid；　as　I　supposed　she　was　from　what　she　had　
said；　put　her　rice　in　a　little　basket　and　walked　out　of　the　shop；　
telling　me　that　I　could　follow　her；　if　I　wanted　to　know　where　Miss　
Trotwood　lived。　I　needed　no　second　permission；　though　I　was　by　
this　time　in　such　a　state　of　consternation　and　agitation；　that　my　
legs　shook　under　me。　I　followed　the　young　woman；　and　we　soon　
came　to　a　very　neat　little　cottage　with　cheerful　bow…windows：　in　
front　of　it；　a　small　square　gravelled　court　or　garden　full　of　flowers；　
carefully　tended；　and　smelling　deliciously。　

‘This　is　Miss　Trotwood’s；’　said　the　young　woman。　‘Now　you　
know；　and　that’s　all　I　have　got　to　say。’　With　which　words　she　
hurried　into　the　house；　as　if　to　shake　off　the　responsibility　of　my　
appearance；　and　left　me　standing　at　the　garden…gate；　looking　

Charles　Dickens　ElecBook　Classics　


David　Copperfield　

disconsolately　over　the　top　of　it　towards　the　parlour　window；　
where　a　muslin　curtain　partly　undrawn　in　the　middle；　a　large　
round　green　screen　or　fan　fastened　on　to　the　windowsill；　a　small　
table；　and　a　great　chair；　suggested　to　me　that　my　aunt　might　be　at　
that　moment　seated　in　awful　state。　

My　shoes　were　by　this　time　in　a　woeful　condition。　The　soles　had　
shed　themselves　bit　by　bit；　and　the　upper　leathers　had　broken　and　
burst　until　the　very　shape　and　form　of　shoes　had　departed　from　
them。　My　hat　（which　had　served　me　for　a　night…cap；　too）　was　so　
crushed　and　bent；　that　no　old　battered　handleless　saucepan　on　a　
dunghill　need　have　been　ashamed　to　vie　with　it。　My　shirt　and　
trousers；　stained　with　heat；　dew；　grass；　and　the　Kentish　soil　on　
which　I　had　slept—and　torn　besides—might　have　frightened　the　
birds　from　my　aunt’s　garden；　as　I　stood　at　the　gate。　My　hair　had　
known　no　comb　or　brush　since　I　left　London。　My　face；　neck；　and　
hands；　from　unaccustomed　exposure　to　the　air　and　sun；　were　
burnt　to　a　berry…brown。　From　head　to　foot　I　was　powdered　almost　
as　white　with　chalk　and　dust；　as　if　I　had　come　out　of　a　lime…kiln。　In　
this　plight；　and　with　a　strong　consciousness　of　it；　I　waited　to　
introduce　myself　to；　and　make　my　first　impression　on；　my　
formidable　aunt。　

The　unbroken　stillness　of　the　parlour　window　leading　me　to　
infer；　after　a　while；　that　she　was　not　there；　I　lifted　up　my　eyes　to　
the　window　above　it；　where　I　saw　a　florid；　pleasant…looking　
gentleman；　with　a　grey　head；　who　shut　up　one　eye　in　a　grotesque　
manner；　nodded　his　head　at　me　several　times；　shook　it　at　me　as　
often；　laughed；　and　went　away。　

I　had　been　discomposed　enough　before；　but　I　was　so　much　the　
more　discomposed　by　this　unexpected　behaviour；　that　I　was　on　the　

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David　Copperfield　

point　of　slinking　off；　to　think　how　I　had　best　proceed；　when　there　
came　out　of　the　house　a　lady　with　her　handkerchief　tied　over　her　
cap；　and　a　pair　of　gardening　gloves　on　her　hands；　wearing　a　
gardening　pocket　like　a　toll…man’s　apron；　and　carrying　a　great　
knife。　I　knew　her　immediately　to　be　Miss　Betsey；　for　she　came　
stalking　out　of　the　house　exactly　as　my　poor　mother　had　so　often　
described　her　stalking　up　our　garden　at　Blunderstone　Rookery。　

‘Go　away！’　said　Miss　Betsey；　shaking　her　head；　and　making　a　
distant　chop　in　the　air　with　her　knife。　‘Go　along！　No　boys　here！’　

I　watched　her；　with　my　heart　at　my　lips；　as　she　marched　to　a　
corner　of　her　garden；　and　stooped　to　dig　up　some　little　root　there。　
Then；　without　a　scrap　of　courage；　but　with　a　great　deal　of　
desperation；　I　went　softly　in　and　stood　beside　her；　touching　her　
with　my　finger。　

‘If　you　please；　ma’am；’　I　began。　

She　started　and　looked　up。　

‘If　you　please；　aunt。’　

‘Eh？’　exclaimed　Miss　Betsey；　in　a　tone　of　amazement　I　have　
never　heard　approached。　

‘If　you　please；　aunt；　I　am　your　nephew。’　

‘Oh；　Lord！’　said　my　aunt。　And　sat　flat　down　in　the　garden…path。　

‘I　am　David　Copperfield；　of　Blunderstone；　in　Suffolk—where　
you　came；　on　the　night　when　I　was　born；　and　saw　my　dear　mama。　I　
have　been　very　unhappy　since　she　died。　I　have　been　slighted；　and　
taught　nothing；　and　thrown　upon　myself；　and　put　to　work　not　fit　
for　me。　It　made　me　run　away　to　you。　I　was　robbed　at　first　setting　
out；　and　have　walked　all　the　way；　and　have　never　slept　in　a　bed　
since　I　began　the　journey。’　Here　my　self…support　gave　way　all　at　
once；　and　with　a　movement　of　my　hands；　intended　to　show　her　my　

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David　Copperfield　

ragged　state；　and　call　it　to　witness　that　I　had　suffered　something；　I　
broke　into　a　passion　of　crying；　which　I　suppose　had　been　pent　up　
within　me　all　the　week。　

My　aunt；　with　every　sort　of　expression　but　wonder　discharged　
from　her　countenance；　sat　on　the　gravel；　staring　at　me；　until　I　
began　to　cry；　when　she　got　up　in　a　great　hurry；　collared　me；　and　
took　me　into　the　parlour。　Her　first　proceeding　there　was　to　unlock　
a　tall　press；　bring　out　several　bottles；　and　pour　some　of　the　
contents　of　each　into　my　mouth。　I　think　they　must　have　been　taken　
out　at　random；　for　I　am　sure　I　tasted　aniseed　water；　anchovy　
sauce；　and　salad　dressing。　When　she　had　administered　these　
restoratives；　as　I　was　still　quite　hysterical；　and　unable　to　control　
my　sobs；　she　put　me　on　the　sofa；　with　a　shawl　under　my　head；　and　
the　handkerchief　from　her　own　head　under　my　feet；　lest　I　should　
sully　the　cover；　and　then；　sitting　herself　down　behind　the　green　
fan　or　screen　I　have　already　mentioned；　so　that　I　could　not　see　her　
face；　ejaculated　at　intervals；　‘Mercy　on　us！’　letting　those　
exclamations　off　like　minute　guns。　

After　a　time　she　rang　the　bell。　‘Janet；’　said　my　aunt；　when　her　
servant　came　in。　‘Go　upstairs；　give　my　compliments　to　Mr。　Dick；　
and　say　I　wish　to　speak　to　him。’　

Janet　looked　a　little　surprised　to　see　me　lying　stiffly　on　the　sofa　
（I　was　afraid　to　move　lest　it　should　be　displeasing　to　my　aunt）；　but　
went　on　her　errand。　My　aunt；　with　her　hands　behind　her；　walked　
up　and　down　the　room；　until　the　gentleman　who　had　squinted　at　
me　from　the　upper　window　came　in　laughing。　

‘Mr。　Dick；’　said　my　aunt；　‘don’t　be　a　fool；　because　nobody　can　be　
more　discreet　than　you　can；　when　you　choose。　We　all　know　that。　
So　don’t　be　a　fool；　whatever　you　are。’　

Charles　Dickens　ElecBook　Classics　


David　Copperfield　

The　gentleman　was　serious　immediately；　and　looked　at　me；　I　
thought；　as　if　he　would　entreat　me　to　say　nothing　about　the　
window。　

‘Mr。　Dick；’　said　my　aunt；　‘you　have　heard　me　mention　David　
Copperfield？　Now　don’t　pretend　not　to　have　a　memory；　because　
you　and　I　know　better。’　

‘David　Copperfield？’　said　Mr。　Dick；　who　did　not　appear　to　me　to　
remember　much　about　it。　‘David　Copperfield？　Oh　yes；　to　be　sure。　
David；　certainly。’　

‘Well；’　said　my　aunt；　‘this　is　his　boy—his　son。　He　would　be　as　
like　his　father　as　it’s　possible　to　be；　if　he　was　not　so　like　his　mother；　
too。’　

‘His　son？’　said　Mr。　Dick。　‘David’s　son？　Indeed！’　

‘Yes；’　pursued　my　aunt；　‘and　he　has　done　a　pretty　piece　of　
business。　He　has　run　away。　Ah！　His　sister；　Betsey　Trotwood；　never　
would　have　run　aw