pp.thegoldencompass-第8部分

快捷操作: 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! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！

eps　of　St。　Catherine's　Oratory；　where　he　sits　down　and　takes　out　his　steaming；　battered　prize；　leaving　a　trail　of　gravy　on　his　shirt。
　　And　he's　being　watched。　A　lady　in　a　long　yellow…red　fox…fur　coat；　a　beautiful　young　lady　whose　dark　hair　falls；　shining　delicately；　under　the　shadow　of　her　fur…lined　hood；　is　standing　in　the　doorway　of　the　oratory；　half　a　dozen　steps　above　him。　It　might　be　that　a　service　is　finishing；　for　light　es　from　the　doorway　behind　her；　an　organ　is　playing　inside；　and　the　lady　is　holding　a　jeweled　breviary。
　　Tony　knows　nothing　of　this。　His　face　contentedly　deep　in　the　pie；　his　toes　curled　inward　and　his　bare　soles　together；　he　sits　and　chews　and　swallows　while　his　daemon　bees　a　mouse　and　grooms　her　whiskers。
　　The　young　lady's　daemon　is　moving　out　from　beside　the　fox…fur　coat。　He　is　in　the　form　of　a　monkey；　but　no　ordinary　monkey：　his　fur　is　long　and　silky　and　of　the　most　deep　and　lustrous　gold。　With　sinuous　movements　he　inches　down　the　steps　toward　the　boy；　and　sits　a　step　above　him。
　　Then　the　mouse　senses　something；　and　bees　a　sparrow　again；　cocking　her　head　a　fraction　sideways；　and　hops　along　the　stone　a　step　or　two。
　　The　monkey　watches　the　sparrow；　the　sparrow　watches　the　monkey。
　　The　monkey　reaches　out　slowly。　His　little　hand　is　black；　his　nails　perfect　horny　claws；　his　movements　gentle　and　inviting。　The　sparrow　can't　resist。　She　hops　further；　and　further；　and　then；　with　a　little　flutter；　up　on　to　the　monkey's　hand。
　　The　monkey　lifts　her　up；　and　gazes　closely　at　her　before　standing　and　swinging　back　to　his　human；　taking　the　sparrow　daemon　with　him。　The　lady　bends　her　scented　head　to　whisper。
　　And　then　Tony　turns。　He　can't　help　it。
　　〃Ratter！〃　he　says；　half　in　alarm；　his　mouth　full。
　　The　sparrow　chirps。　It　must　be　safe。　Tony　swallows　his　mouthful　and　stares。
　　〃Hello；〃　says　the　beautiful　lady。　〃What's　your　name？〃
　　〃Tony。〃
　　〃Where　do　you　live；　Tony？〃
　　〃Clarice　Walk。〃
　　〃What's　in　that　pie？〃
　　〃Beefsteak。〃

　　〃Do　you　like　chocolatl？〃
　　〃Yeah！〃
　　〃As　it　happens；　I've　got　more　chocolatl　than　I　can　drink　myself。　Will　you　e　and　help　me　drink　it？〃
　　He's　lost　already。　He　was　lost　the　moment　his　slow…witted　daemon　hopped　onto　the　monkey's　hand。　He　follows　the　beautiful　young　lady　and　the　golden　monkey　down　Denmark　Street　and　along　to　Hangman's　Wharf；　and　down　King　George's　Steps　to　a　little　green　door　in　the　side　of　a　tall　warehouse。　She　knocks；　the　door　is　opened；　they　go　in；　the　door　is　closed。　Tony　will　never　e　out…at　least；　by　that　entrance；　and　he'll　never　see　his　mother　again。　She；　poor　drunken　thing；　will　think　he's　run　away；　and　when　she　remembers　him；　she'll　think　it　was　her　fault；　and　sob　her　sorry　heart　out。
　　
　　*　　*　　*
　　
　　Little　Tony　Makarios　wasn't　the　only　child　to　be　caught　by　the　lady　with　the　golden　monkey。　He　found　a　dozen　others　in　the　cellar　of　the　warehouse；　boys　and　girls；　none　older　than　twelve　or　so；　though　since　all　of　them　had　histories　like　his；　none　could　be　sure　of　their　age。　What　Tony　didn't　notice；　of　course；　was　the　factor　that　they　all　had　in　mon。　None　of　the　children　in　that　warm　and　steamy　cellar　had　reached　the　age　of　puberty。
　　The　kind　lady　saw　him　settled　on　a　bench　against　the　wall；　and　provided　by　a　silent　serving　woman　with　a　mug　of　chocolatl　from　the　saucepan　on　the　iron　stove。　Tony　ate　the　rest　of　his　pie　and　drank　the　sweet　hot　liquor　without　taking　much　notice　of　his　surroundings；　and　the　surroundings　took　little　notice　of　him：　he　was　too　small　to　be　a　threat；　and　too　stolid　to　promise　much　satisfaction　as　a　victim。
　　It　was　another　boy　who　asked　the　obvious　question。
　　〃Hey；　lady！　What　you　got　us　all　here　for？〃
　　He　was　a　tough…looking　wretch　with　dark　chocolatl　on　his　top　lip　and　a　gaunt　black　rat　for　a　daemon。　The　lady　was　standing　near　the　door；　talking　to　a　stout　man　with　the　air　of　a　sea　captain；　and　as　she　turned　to　answer；　she　looked　so　angelic　in　the　hissing　naphtha　light　that　all　the　children　fell　silent。
　　〃We　want　your　help；〃　she　said。　〃You　don't　mind　helping　us；　do　you？〃
　　No　one　could　say　a　word。　They　all　gazed；　suddenly　shy。　They　had　never　seen　a　lady　like　this；　she　was　so　gracious　and　sweet　and　kind　that　they　felt　they　hardly　deserved　their　good　luck；　and　whatever　she　asked；　they'd　give　it　gladly　so　as　to　stay　in　her　presence　a　little　longer。
　　She　told　them　that　they　were　going　on　a　voyage。　They　would　be　well　fed　and　warmly　clothed；　and　those　who　wanted　to　could　send　messages　back　to　their　families　to　let　them　know　they　were　safe。　Captain　Magnusson　would　take　them　on　board　his　ship　very　soon；　and　then　when　the　tide　was　right；　they'd　sail　out　to　sea　and　set　a　course　for　the　North。
　　Soon　those　few　who　did　want　to　send　a　message　to　what…ever　home　they　had　were　sitting　around　the　beautiful　lady　as　she　wrote　a　few　lines　at　their　dictation　and；　having　let　them　scratch　a　clumsy　X　at　the　foot　of　the　page；　folded　it　into　a　scented　envelope　and　wrote　the　address　they　told　her。　Tony　would　have　liked　to　send　something　to　his　mother；　but　he　had　a　realistic　idea　of　her　ability　to　read　it。　He　plucked　at　the　lady's　fox…fur　sleeve　and　whispered　that　he'd　like　her　to　tell　his　mum　where　he　was　going；　and　all；　and　she　bent　her　gracious　head　close　enough　to　his　malodorous　little　body　to　hear；　and　stroked　his　head　and　promised　to　pass　the　message　on。
　　Then　the　children　clustered　around　to　say　goodbye。　The　golden　monkey　stroked　all　their　daemons；　and　they　all　touched　the　fox　fur　for　luck；　or　as　if　they　were　drawing　some　strength　or　hope　or　goodness　out　of　the　lady；　and　she　bade　them　all　farewell　and　saw　them　in　the　care　of　the　bold　captain　on　board　a　steam　launch　at　the　jetty。　The　sky　was　dark　now；　the　river　a　mass　of　bobbing　lights。　The　lady　stood　on　the　jetty　and　waved　till　she　could　see　their　faces　no　more。
　　Then　she　turned　back　inside；　with　the　golden　monkey　nestled　in　her　breast；　and　threw　the　little　bundle　of　letters　into　the　furnace　before　leaving　the　way　she　had　e。
　　
　　Children　from　the　slums　were　easy　enough　to　entice　away；　but　eventually　people　noticed；　and　the　police　were　stirred　into　reluctant　action。　For　a　while　there　were　no　more　bewitchings。　But　a　rumor　had　been　born；　and　little　by　little　it　changed　and　grew　and　spread；　and　when　after　a　while　a　few　children　disappeared　in　Norwich；　and　then　Sheffield；　and　then　Manchester；　the　people　in　those　places　who'd　heard　of　the　disappearances　elsewhere　added　the　new　vanishings　to　the　story　and　gave　it　new　strength。
　　And　so　the　legend　grew　of　a　mysterious　group　of　enchanters　who　spirited　children　away。　Some　said　their　leader　was　a　beautiful　lady；　others　said　a　tall　man　with　red　eyes；　while　a　third　story　told　of　a　youth　who　laughed　and　sang　to　his　victims　so　that　they　followed　him　like　sheep。
　　As　for　where　they　took　these　lost　children；　no　two　stories　agreed。　Some　said　it　was　to　Hell；　under　the　ground；　to　Fairyland。　Others　said　to　a　farm　where　the　children　were　kept　and　fattened　for　the　table。　Others　said　that　the　children　were　kept　and　sold　as　slaves　to　rich　Tartars　。　。　。　。And　so　on。
　　But　one　thing　on　which　everyone　agreed　was　the　name　of　these　invisible　kidnappers。　They　had　to　have　a　name；　or　not　be　referred　to　at　all；　and　talking　about　them…especially　if　you　were　safe　and　snug　at　home；　or　in　Jordan　College…was　delicious。　And　the　name　that　seemed　to　settle　on　them；　without　anyone's　knowing　why；　was　the　Gobblers。
　　〃Don't　stay　out　late；　or　the　Gobblers'11　get　you！〃
　　〃My　cousin　in　Northampton；　she　knows　a　woman　whose　little　boy　was　took　by　the　Gobblers　。　。　。　。〃
　　〃The　Gobblers've　been　in　Stratford。　They　say　they're　ing　south！〃
　　
　　And；　inevitably：
　　〃Let's　play　kids　and　Gobblers！〃
　　So　said　Lyra　to　Roger；　one　rainy　afternoon　when　they　were　alone　in　the　dusty　attics。　He　was　her　devoted　slave　by　this　time；　he　would　have　followed　her　to　the　ends　of　the　earth。
　　〃How　d'you　play　that？〃
　　〃You　hide　and　I　find　you　and　slice　you　open；　right；　like　the　Gobblers　do。〃
　　〃You　don't　know　what　they　do。　They　might　not　do　that　at　all。〃
　　〃You're　afraid　of　'em；〃　she　said。　〃I　can　tell。〃
　　〃I　en't。　I　don't　believe　in　'em　anyway。〃
　　〃I　do；〃　she　said　decisively。　〃But　I　en't　afraid　either。　I'd　just　do　what　my　uncle　done　last　time　he　came　to　Jordan。　I　seen　him。　He　was　in　the　Retiring　Room　and　there　was　this　guest　who　weren't　polite；　and　my　uncle　just　give　him　a　hard　look　and　the　man　fell　dead　on　the　spot；　with　all　foam　and　froth　round　his　mouth。〃
　　〃He　never；〃　said　Roger　doubtfully。　〃They　never　said　anything　about　that　in　the　kitchen。　Anyway；　you　en't　allowed　in　the　Retiring　Room。〃
　　'〃Course　not。　They　wouldn't　tell　servants　about　a　thing　like　that。　And　I　have　been　in　the　Retiring　Room；　so　there。　Anyway；　my　uncle's　always　doing　that。　He　done　it　to　some　Tartars　when　they　caught　him　once。　They　tied　him　up　and　they　was　going　to　cut　his　guts　out；　but　when　the　first　man　e　up　with　the　knife；　my　uncle　just　looked　at　him；　and　he　fell　dead；　so　another　one　e　up　and　he　done　the　same　to　him；　and　finally　there　was　only　one　left。　My　uncle　said　he'd　leave　him　alive　if　he　untied　him；　so　he　did；　and　then　my　uncle　killed　him　anyway　just　to　teach　him　a　lesson。〃
　　Roger　was　less　sure　abou