远大前程 第一章我说皮利普是我父亲的姓，那是有根据的，因为我父亲的墓碑上刻着他的姓， 而且我姐姐也这么说。我姐姐嫁给了铁匠乔·葛奇里，现在是葛奇里夫人了。至于 我，从来没有见到过父亲和母亲，也没有看到过他们两位的照片（其实在他们的时 代还不知道什么是照片呢）。最初在我的想象中也有父母亲的模样，那是根据他们 的墓碑字形乱造出来的。我父亲墓碑上的字体使我产生了一个奇怪的想法，认为他 是个方方正正。胖胖墩墩的黑皮汉子，有一头的黑色鬈发。再看看墓碑上镌刻的另 外几个字。“及上述者之妻乔其雅娜”，我又得出一个幼稚的结论：我的母亲脸上 生着雀斑，而且体弱多病。在我父母的坟边，整齐地排着五块小小的菱形石碑，每 一块大约有一英尺半高。这就是我五位小兄长的坟墓。在这大千世界的现实斗争中， 他们早早地放弃了求生，一个接一个离世而去。此情此景，使我萌生出一种类似宗 教情感的信念，坚信我的五位小兄长一生出来就双手插在裤袋里，面孔朝天，而且 从来没有把手拿出来过，和现在躺在墓中的样子相同。
我们的家乡是一片沼泽地区。那儿有一条河流。沿河蜿蜒而下，到海不足二十 英里。我领略世面最初、最生动的印象似乎得自于一个令人难以忘怀的下午，而且 正是向晚时分。就在那时我才弄清楚，这一片长满荨麻的荒凉之地正是乡村的教堂 墓地；已故的本教区居民菲利普·皮利普及上述者之妻乔其雅娜已死，双双埋葬于 此；还有阿历克山大、巴斯奥鲁米、亚布拉罕、特比亚斯和罗吉尔，他们的五位婴 儿已死，也都埋葬于此。就在那时我才弄清楚，在这坟场的前面，一片幽暗平坦的 荒凉之地便是沼泽，那里沟渠纵横，小丘起伏，闸门交错，还有散布的零星牲畜， 四处寻食；从沼泽地再往前的那一条低低的铅灰色水平线正是河流；而那更远的、 像未开化的洞穴并刮起狂风的地方，自然就是大海。就在那时我才弄清楚，面对这 片景色而越来越感到害怕，并哇地一声哭起来的小不点儿，正是我皮普。
“闭嘴！”突然响起一声令人毛骨悚然的叫喊，同时，有一个人从教堂门廊一 边的墓地里蹿了出来。“不许出声，你这个小鬼精；你只要一出声我就掐断你的脖 子！”
这是一个面容狰狞的人，穿了一身劣质的灰色衣服，腿上挂了一条粗大沉重的 铁镣。他头上没有帽子，只用一块破布扎住头，脚上的鞋已经破烂。看上去他曾在 水中浸泡过，在污泥中忍受过煎熬。他的腿被石头碰伤了，脚又被小石块割破，荨 麻的针刺和荆棘的拉刺使得他身上出现一道道伤口。他一跛一跛地走着，全身发着 抖，还瞪着双眼吼叫着。他一把抓住我的下巴，而他嘴巴里的牙齿在格格打战。
“噢，先生，不要扭断我的脖子，”我惊恐地哀求着，“请你不要这样对待我， 先生，我求你了。”
“告诉我你叫什么名字！”那个人说道，“快讲！”
“我叫皮普，先生。”
“你再说一遍！”那人说着，目光紧紧地盯住我，“张开嘴说清楚些。”
“皮普，皮普，先生。”
“告诉我你住在哪里，”那人说道，“把方向指给我看！”
我把我们村子的位置指给他看。村子就坐落在距离教堂一英里多远的平坦河岸 上，四周矗立着赤杨树和截梢树。
这人打量了我一会儿，便把我头朝下地倒拎起来，我口袋里的东西也就掉了下 来。其实口袋里只有一片面包，没有任何别的东西。等教堂又恢复原状时——因为 刚才他猛然把我头朝下地翻了个个儿，我看到教堂的尖顶在我的脚下——而现在， 我是说，教堂又恢复了原样时，我已经被他按坐在一块高高的墓碑上，全身打着哆 嗦，而他却狼吞虎咽地吃起了那块面包。
“你这条小狗，”他一面舔着嘴唇，一面说道，“你这张小脸蛋倒生得肥肥的。”
从我的年龄来说，虽然我的个头不大，体质也不强壮，但是我的脸蛋儿确实有 些肥。
“他妈的，我吃不了你的脸蛋儿才怪呢，”他说着，威胁性地摇晃了一下脑袋， “我真想把你这脸蛋吃掉。”
我连忙恳切地希望他无论如何不要吃我的脸蛋儿，同时紧紧地抓住他把我按上 去的那块墓碑。这样，一则我可以坐稳不至于摔下来，二则可以忍住眼泪不至于哭 出来。
“看着我，”那人说道，“你妈妈在什么地方？”
“在那里，先生。”我答道。
听了我的话，他大吃一惊，立刻拔脚就逃，跑了几步又停下来，口过头看了看。
“就在那里，先生！”我心惊肉跳地向他解释着，“那里写着乔其雅娜几个字， 那就是我的妈妈。”
“噢！”他说道，又跑了回来，“那么和你妈妈葬在一起的是你的爸爸喽？”
我答道：“一点不错，先生，是我爸爸。那里写着‘已故的本教区居民’。”
“哈！”他嘟嘟哝哝、若有所思地说道，“你和谁住在一起——假设我不杀你， 让你活下去，你和谁一起生活？当然，我还没有决定究竟让不让你活下去。”
“我和姐姐一起生活，先生，她就是乔·葛奇里夫人，也就是铁匠乔·葛奇里 的妻子，先生。”
“哦，是铁匠？”他一面说着，一面低下头去看他的腿。
他忧郁而又阴沉地看看他的腿，又看看我。这么来回看了几次之后，他走近我 坐着的墓碑，两手抓住我的双肩，尽量把我的身体向后按，以使他那双威严无比、 咄咄逼人的眼睛紧盯着我的双眼，似乎眼光射进了我的眼球深处，而我的两眼只能 无可奈何地仰望着他的眼睛。
他对我说道：“仔细听着，现在的问题是究竟让不让你活。我问你，你懂不懂 什么是锉子？”
“懂，先生。”
“我再问你，你懂不懂什么是食物？”
“懂，先生。”
他每提出一个问题，便把我的身体向后按一点儿，为的是使我感到无路可走， 危险迫在眼前。
“我要你给弄一把锉子来，”他把我又按了一下说，“再给我弄些吃的东西来。” 说着，他又把我向后按了一下。“这两样东西都要拿来。”他再一次把我向后按。 “你要不拿来，我就把你的心肝五脏都掏出来。”说完，他又把我向后按了一下。
我简直怕得要命，给弄得头晕目眩，禁不住用双手把他紧紧抓住。我对他说： “请你大发慈悲吧，让我的身体直起来，再这样说不定我会吐出来，身体一直我就 会听清楚你讲的究竟是什么了。”
于是他猛力地把我一推，使我滚到地上，这一滚似乎连教堂都跳了起来，而且 跳得比屋顶上面的定风针还要高。然后，他又抓住我的两臂，把我提到墓碑的上头， 直坐在上面，而他却继续讲着那些令人恐惧的话。
“明天一大清早，你要把锉子和吃的东西带给我。你要把这些东西都送到那边 的老炮台前给我。你为我办事，而且不透半句风声，不露一丝痕迹，不让任何人知 道你遇到一个像我这样的人，或者遇到过什么人，我才会留你一条活命。要是你不 给我办事，或者你哪怕有半句话不听我的，不论这话多么微不足道，我一定会把你 的心肝五脏挖出来，放在火上烤熟，再把它们吃掉。你要晓得，不要以为我只是孤 零零一个人，和我一块儿正躲着一个年轻小伙子呢。你别以为我是个恶魔，和那个 年轻伙伴比起来，我简直是个天使。他正躲在那儿听我们讲话。这个年轻人还有一 套奇特的秘密方法，会捉小男孩，挖出小男孩的心吃，然后再挖出肝来吃。小孩子 想让这个年轻人不知道他，想躲着年轻人都是不行的。即使小孩子锁上了房门，睡 在温暖的床上，用被子裹住自己，再把衣服蒙在头上，以为自己既舒服又保险，可 这青年人会轻轻地爬呀，爬呀，一直爬到小孩的床边，把他的胸膛撕开。不过你放 心，我现在花了很大的劲，已经使这个青年人不会加害你。当然，我也没法子让他 永远不伤害你，因为这是很难的。好了，现在你有什么要说的？”
我说我一定带给他一把锉子，一定为他带些吃的东西，哪怕只能是残剩粗食。 我说明天一大清早我一定会来到炮台前把东西交给他。
“那么你发誓，要是你不送来，天主就用雷电劈死你。”那人说道。
我照他的活起了誓，他这才把我从墓碑顶上抱下来，并且继续说道：
“听着，不要忘记你说过的话、该做的事；也不要忘记那个年轻人。现在，你 可以回家了。”
“晚——晚安，先生！”我吓得连话也说不清楚了。
“够了，不要再说了！”他说着，用目光扫视着四周一片阴冷潮湿的沼泽滩地。 “我真希望变成一只青蛙，要么，一条泥鳅也行。”
他一边咒骂着，一边用两条胳膊紧紧地抱住自己发抖的身体，好像一不抱紧， 整副身体的骨架就要散掉。他抬起两条伤腿一跛一拐地向着低矮的教堂围墙走去。 我看着他离开，走进了尊麻丛生、荆棘萦绕、长满青草的坟堆之中。从我幼稚的想 象出发，他好像在躲闪坟中死人伸出来的手，生怕它们一把拖住他的脚踝，把他拉 进坟墓同住。
他走到那堵低矮的教堂围墙前，从墙头上爬过去。他的两条腿看上去简直冻得 麻木僵直，不听使唤了。过了墙头，他又回过头来望了望我。看到他转过脸，我立 刻头也不回地朝着家里奔去，拼命地迈动着我的两条腿。然后，我掉过头，看到他 正朝着大河走去。他仍然把身体紧紧地用两条臂膀裹着，拖着疼痛的双脚在许多大 石块中拣道而行。因为这里是一片沼泽地，一遇大雨，或者潮水上涌，就难以通行， 所以把大石块放在沼泽地中可以作为垫脚石。
在我停下来用目光追随着他的身影时，整个沼泽地已成为一条既长又黑的水平 线，而那条河流却成为另一条水平线，虽然它没有前者那么宽，那么黑。这时的天 空已变成一行交织的带子，怒红浓黑相间。我模模糊糊地分辨出，在大河边上直挺 挺地站着两个幽灵般的黑东西。其中之一是航标灯，水手就要依靠它来掌舵。这航 标灯好像是一只脱了箍的桶，高挂在杆子上。你越是走近它，它越显得丑陋。另一 个黑东西是绞刑架，还有一根铁链悬在上面。那里曾经吊死过一个海盗。现在，那 人正一瘸一拐地向着绞刑架走去，仿佛他就是复活了的海盗，已经从绞刑架上走下 来，现在正回去重新吊上绞刑架。我如此想着。这可怕的想象使我毛骨悚然。吃草 的牲畜也抬起头凝视着他的身影，我真想知道，牛儿所想是否和我的一样。我环视 四周，寻找那个令人恐怖的年轻人，然而连一点迹象也没有。这时，我惊慌失措， 没命地向家里奔去，再也不敢停留一下。
my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more
explicit than Pip. So, I called myself Pip, and came to be called
Pip.
I give Pirrip as my father's family name, on the authority of his
tombstone and my sister,--Mrs. Joe Gargery, who married the
blacksmith. As I never saw my father or my mother, and never saw
any likeness of either of them (for their days were long before the
days of photographs), my first fancies regarding what they were
like were unreasonably derived from their tombstones. The shape of
the letters on my father's, gave me an odd idea that he was a
square, stout, dark man, with curly black hair. From the character
and turn of the inscription, "Also Georgiana Wife of the Above," I
drew a childish conclusion that my mother was freckled and sickly.
To five little stone lozenges, each about a foot and a half long,
which were arranged in a neat row beside their grave, and were
sacred to the memory of five little brothers of mine,--who gave up
trying to get a living, exceedingly early in that universal
struggle,--I am indebted for a belief I religiously entertained
that they had all been born on their backs with their hands in
their trousers-pockets, and had never taken them out in this state
of existence.
Ours was the marsh country, down by the river, within, as the river
wound, twenty miles of the sea. My first most vivid and broad
impression of the identity of things seems to me to have been
gained on a memorable raw afternoon towards evening. At such a time
I found out for certain that this bleak place overgrown with
nettles was the churchyard; and that Philip Pirrip, late of this
parish, and also Georgiana wife of the above, were dead and buried;
and that Alexander, Bartholomew, Abraham, Tobias, and Roger, infant
children of the aforesaid, were also dead and buried; and that the
dark flat wilderness beyond the churchyard, intersected with dikes
and mounds and gates, with scattered cattle feeding on it, was the
marshes; and that the low leaden line beyond was the river; and
that the distant savage lair from which the wind was rushing was
the sea; and that the small bundle of shivers growing afraid of it
all and beginning to cry, was Pip.
"Hold your noise!" cried a terrible voice, as a man started up from
among the graves at the side of the church porch. "Keep still, you
little devil, or I'll cut your throat!"
A fearful man, all in coarse gray, with a great iron on his leg. A
man with no hat, and with broken shoes, and with an old rag tied
round his head. A man who had been soaked in water, and smothered
in mud, and lamed by stones, and cut by flints, and stung by
nettles, and torn by briars; who limped, and shivered, and glared,
and growled; and whose teeth chattered in his head as he seized me
by the chin.
"Oh! Don't cut my throat, sir," I pleaded in terror. "Pray don't do
it, sir."
"Tell us your name!" said the man. "Quick!"
"Pip, sir."
"Once more," said the man, staring at me. "Give it mouth!"
"Pip. Pip, sir."
"Show us where you live," said the man. "Pint out the place!"
I pointed to where our village lay, on the flat in-shore among the
alder-trees and pollards, a mile or more from the church.
The man, after looking at me for a moment, turned me upside down,
and emptied my pockets. There was nothing in them but a piece of
bread. When the church came to itself,--for he was so sudden and
strong that he made it go head over heels before me, and I saw the
steeple under my feet,--when the church came to itself, I say, I
was seated on a high tombstone, trembling while he ate the bread
ravenously.
"You young dog," said the man, licking his lips, "what fat cheeks
you ha' got."
I believe they were fat, though I was at that time undersized for
my years, and not strong.
"Darn me if I couldn't eat em," said the man, with a threatening
shake of his head, "and if I han't half a mind to't!"
I earnestly expressed my hope that he wouldn't, and held tighter to
the tombstone on which he had put me; partly, to keep myself upon
it; partly, to keep myself from crying.
"Now lookee here!" said the man. "Where's your mother?"
"There, sir!" said I.
He started, made a short run, and stopped and looked over his
shoulder.
"There, sir!" I timidly explained. "Also Georgiana. That's my
mother."
"Oh!" said he, coming back. "And is that your father alonger your
mother?"
"Yes, sir," said I; "him too; late of this parish."
"Ha!" he muttered then, considering. "Who d'ye live with,--
supposin' you're kindly let to live, which I han't made up my mind
about?"
"My sister, sir,--Mrs. Joe Gargery,--wife of Joe Gargery, the
blacksmith, sir."
"Blacksmith, eh?" said he. And looked down at his leg.
After darkly looking at his leg and me several times, he came
closer to my tombstone, took me by both arms, and tilted me back as
far as he could hold me; so that his eyes looked most powerfully
down into mine, and mine looked most helplessly up into his.
"Now lookee here," he said, "the question being whether you're to
be let to live. You know what a file is?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you know what wittles is?"
"Yes, sir."
After each question he tilted me over a little more, so as to give
me a greater sense of helplessness and danger.
"You get me a file." He tilted me again. "And you get me wittles."
He tilted me again. "You bring 'em both to me." He tilted me again.
"Or I'll have your heart and liver out." He tilted me again.
I was dreadfully frightened, and so giddy that I clung to him with
both hands, and said, "If you would kindly please to let me keep
upright, sir, perhaps I shouldn't be sick, and perhaps I could
attend more."
He gave me a most tremendous dip and roll, so that the church
jumped over its own weathercock. Then, he held me by the arms, in
an upright position on the top of the stone, and went on in these
fearful terms:--
"You bring me, to-morrow morning early, that file and them wittles.
You bring the lot to me, at that old Battery over yonder. You do
it, and you never dare to say a word or dare to make a sign
concerning your having seen such a person as me, or any person
sumever, and you shall be let to live. You fail, or you go from my
words in any partickler, no matter how small it is, and your heart
and your liver shall be tore out, roasted, and ate. Now, I ain't
alone, as you may think I am. There's a young man hid with me, in
comparison with which young man I am a Angel. That young man hears
the words I speak. That young man has a secret way pecooliar to
himself, of getting at a boy, and at his heart, and at his liver.
It is in wain for a boy to attempt to hide himself from that young
man. A boy may lock his door, may be warm in bed, may tuck himself
up, may draw the clothes over his head, may think himself
comfortable and safe, but that young man will softly creep and
creep his way to him and tear him open. I am a keeping that young
man from harming of you at the present moment, with great
difficulty. I find it wery hard to hold that young man off of your
inside. Now, what do you say?"
I said that I would get him the file, and I would get him what
broken bits of food I could, and I would come to him at the
Battery, early in the morning.
"Say Lord strike you dead if you don't!" said the man.
I said so, and he took me down.
"Now," he pursued, "you remember what you've undertook, and you
remember that young man, and you get home!"
"Goo-good night, sir," I faltered.
"Much of that!" said he, glancing about him over the cold wet flat.
"I wish I was a frog. Or a eel!"
At the same time, he hugged his shuddering body in both his arms,--
clasping himself, as if to hold himself together,--and limped
towards the low church wall. As I saw him go, picking his way among
the nettles, and among the brambles that bound the green mounds, he
looked in my young eyes as if he were eluding the hands of the dead
people, stretching up cautiously out of their graves, to get a
twist upon his ankle and pull him in.
When he came to the low church wall, he got over it, like a man
whose legs were numbed and stiff, and then turned round to look for
me. When I saw him turning, I set my face towards home, and made
the best use of my legs. But presently I looked over my shoulder,
and saw him going on again towards the river, still hugging himself
in both arms, and picking his way with his sore feet among the
great stones dropped into the marshes here and there, for
stepping-places when the rains were heavy or the tide was in.
The marshes were just a long black horizontal line then, as I
stopped to look after him; and the river was just another
horizontal line, not nearly so broad nor yet so black; and the sky
was just a row of long angry red lines and dense black lines
intermixed. On the edge of the river I could faintly make out the
only two black things in all the prospect that seemed to be
standing upright; one of these was the beacon by which the sailors
steered,--like an unhooped cask upon a pole,--an ugly thing when
you were near it; the other, a gibbet, with some chains hanging to
it which had once held a pirate. The man was limping on towards
this latter, as if he were the pirate come to life, and come down,
and going back to hook himself up again. It gave me a terrible turn
when I thought so; and as I saw the cattle lifting their heads to
gaze after him, I wondered whether they thought so too. I looked
all round for the horrible young man, and could see no signs of
him. But now I was frightened again, and ran home without
stopping.
我的姐姐乔·葛奇里夫人比我要年长二十多岁。她一直说我是由她一手带大的， 因此在左邻右舍享有很大名气，倍受夸奖。从小我就想了解这里的“一手”究竟是 什么含义。我所知道的她的手，是结实笨重而又冷酷严厉的，因为她特别喜欢把她 的巴掌打在她丈夫的身上，当然也喜欢打在我的身上。我想乔·葛奇里和我就是这 样由她一手带大的吧。
我的姐姐并不是一位标致的女人。我有一个总体的印象，她一定是想方设法才 使乔·葛奇里娶她为妻的。乔是一位皮肤洁白的男士，两顿光滑，双鬓留着金色的 鬈发，一双明眸发出淡蓝色的光，淡得几乎和眼自混成一体，难以分辨。他性情温 和柔顺，心肠善良，脾气平和，平易近人。虽带有三分傻气，却是个极其可爱的人。 在阳刚方面，他力大无比；在阴柔方面，他见了老婆就怕；真有点儿像赫尔克勒斯。
我的姐姐乔夫人生得一头的乌发，有一对乌黑的眼睛，皮肤却是一片红色。有 时我不禁怀疑，她可能不用肥皂，而是用肉豆营蔻擦子擦洗皮肤的。她身材高大， 身上几乎永远围着一条粗布围裙，用两个活结扎在她背后。她在胸部围了一条非常 结实的围嘴儿，上面别满了别针和缝衣针。她成天围着围裙是为了显示她主持及操 劳家务的伟大功绩，同时也以此为资本可以狠狠地责骂丈夫。不过，我看不出她有 什么理由非围着围裙不可，即使要围围裙，也没有必要成天不离身。
乔的铁匠铺和我们的住房连在一起。我们的房子是木结构的，和我们乡下许多 居民房屋一样，都是木屋。我从教堂墓地上气不接下气地跑回家时，铁匠铺已经打 烊了，乔一个人正孤独地坐在厨房。乔和我在这个家庭中都是受气的沦落人，所以 我们两个人便以诚相待，推心置腹。我打开门闩，把头伸进去一看，在火炉边上正 坐着乔，因为火炉就对着门。
“你姐姐出去找你有十二次了，皮普，现在又出去找你，一共十三次了。”
“她去找我吗？”
“是去找你，皮普。”乔说道，“更糟的是她带着那根呵痒棍呢。”
听到这个令人沮丧的消息，我焦急地扭动着背心上仅剩的一颗钮扣，把它转来 转去，带着灰心失望的情绪呆呆地望着炉火。呵痒棍是一根长棍棒，棍头上涂着蜡。 这根棍子经常在我身上搔痒，早就被磨得滑溜溜的了。
乔告诉我：“她一会坐下来，一会站起来，然后一把抓起呵痒棍就疯狂地跑了 出去。就是这些。”乔一面说着，一面漫不经心地拿起火钳拨人，双眼看着炉火。 “皮普，她疯狂地跑出去了。”
“她已经去了很久了吗，乔？”我从来不把他当作大人看待。他只不过是个大 孩子，和我身份没有两样，所以我说话也直来直往。
“嗯，”乔瞅着那座荷兰式自鸣钟说道，“她疯狂地奔出去，这最后一次去了 有五分钟了，皮普。不好，她回来了！快躲到门背后去，老伙计，用那条长毛巾遮 上你。”
我照乔的话做了。我的姐姐，乔夫人，猛地把屋门推开，一下子就看到门背后 有个东西遮挡着，而且算出了是什么，于是伸出了呵痒棍去试探。她试探的结果便 是把我拎起来扔向乔——我常常这样成了他们两人之间的飞箭——而乔则高高兴兴 地接住了我，把我放在火炉旁边，伸出一条巨大的腿，悄悄地保护着我。
“你究竟到哪去了，你这个小皮猴子？”乔夫人跺着脚说道，“你老老实实告 诉我你去干什么了，害得我着急、害怕、担心，把我累得要死。你要不说，小心我 把你从角落里拎出来，就是五十个皮普，再加上五百个葛奇里也没用。”
“我只是到教堂墓地去了。”我坐在小凳子上哭着说，一面揉着疼痛的地方。
“教堂墓地！”我姐姐重复着这几个字，“要不是我照看你，怕你早埋进了教 堂墓地，在那儿长眠了。我问你，谁把你一手带大的？”
“当然是你。”我赶忙答道。
“我为什么要把你一手带大，你倒说给我听听。”我姐姐大声吼道。
我轻轻啜泣着说：“我不知道。”
“你不知道！”我姐姐说道，“我再不想干这种事了！你说不知道，我倒知道。 老实告诉你，自从你一出生，我这条围裙就没有离过身。做一个铁匠的老婆已经够 糟了，何况又是一个葛奇里铁匠，还要做你的妈妈！”
我郁闷而又忧伤地望着炉火，思想早就开小差了，她的问话根本没有听进去。 盘旋在我脑海中的是那个腿上缚着铁镣的逃犯、那个神秘的年轻人，还有锉子、吃 的东西，以及我可怕的誓言。我不得不去做一次小偷，在我寄居的屋檐下去偷。炉 火冒出复仇的火焰，使所有这一切东西都跳到我的眼前。
“嘿嘿！”乔夫人冷笑着，把呵痒棍放到原来的地方。“教堂墓地，好一个教 堂墓地！你们两个人轮番说着教堂墓地。”其实在我们两个人中有一个人根本没有 说过这个词。“你们两个人对我夹攻，想把我赶进坟墓。真的到了那一天，嘿，要 是没有了我，看你们这对活——活宝怎么办！”
然后她便收拾茶具去了。这时乔从他的大腿下面偷偷地瞧着我，仿佛在心中考 虑着我和他自己，算计着要是果然这个有严重后果的预言应验了，我们这对难兄难 弟该如何是好。他坐在那里，抚摸着自己头右侧的淡黄色鬈发和胡子，淡蓝色的眼 珠随着他夫人的走来走去而转来转去。凡遇到这类险恶形势时，他总是这般模样。
我姐姐给我们切面包、涂奶油，总是手脚麻利，十分轻快，而且动作一成不变。 一开始，她先用左手把面包紧紧地压在她的围嘴上，自然，有时是一根别针，有时 又是一根缝衣针扎进了面包，我们也就连针连面包都吃进嘴里。接着，她抹一些奶 油在餐刀上，不多，就一点儿，然后再涂到面包上。她麻利得活像药房中的药剂师 在做膏药，一把刀子在她手上运用自如，两面涂油，十分敏捷。薄薄的奶油均匀地 涂在面包上，没有一处遗漏。然后，她用餐刀在膏药的边上做最后一次精心涂抹， 结束后，从面包上切下厚厚的一片。在这片面包和整只面包完全分离之前，她加上 一刀，把它一分为二，一块给乔，另一块给我。
当时我确实很饿，但是我不敢吃这一份面包。我想我一定要保留一些给那个可 怕的朋友吃，还要留一些给他的伙伴，也就是那个更加可怕的年轻人。我知道我姐 姐治家谨严，管理认真；我要想偷些什么，看来从食橱中是找不到的。所以，我决 定把这一大厚片奶油面包放在裤脚管中。
要达到这个目的，必须要有决心，而且要努力才行。我发现这是很难的事。这 就好像我必须下定决心从很高的屋顶上跳下来，或者跳进一片深水中。更加困难的 是乔对这件事一无所知。前面曾提到过，我和乔两个同是这房屋中的沦落人，他心 地善良，与我友好相处。在吃晚餐时，我们有个习惯，要比较一下吃面包的速度， 不时地悄悄拿起所啃的面包比一下，并且相互会心地表示赞美。这样，我们啃面包 就越啃越有劲。今天晚上，乔几次邀请我比赛，并且展示出他飞快吃剩下的一个小 块。他要和我像往常一样进行友谊竞赛。但是，每一次他都看到在我的一只膝盖上 放着我那只黄色的茶杯，在另一只膝盖上是我一口还没有咬过的奶油面包。最后， 我不得不孤注一掷。我沉思的结果是这件事不能不做，而且要看准机会，于不知不 觉中把它办好。于是，我看准了乔注视我后刚把头转过去的这一刹那，趁机把奶油 面包装进了我的裤脚管。
乔以为我胃口不好不想吃，因此也感到无精打采，浑身不舒服。他心思沉重地 从面包片上咬了一小口，似乎吃起来不得劲。一小口面包在他嘴里细磨慢嚼，比平 常所用的时间要长得多。他边嚼边想，最后才像吃药丸一样把它吞下去，然后他准 备咬第二口。就在这时，他的目光又落到我身上，突然发现我的奶油面包已经无影 无踪。
乔感到惊诧，甚至有些愕然，一小口面包停在两排牙齿中间，眼睛直瞪瞪地望 着我。这一切都逃不脱我姐姐那一双善于观察的眼睛。
“你怎么了？”她说着，声音中带着严厉，并且把手中的茶杯放了下来。
乔对我摇着头，用非常严肃的规劝口吻低低地对我说：“哎呀，你该懂！皮普， 我的老伙计，你可是在和自己开玩笑！一嚼不嚼吞进去，会卡在什么地方的，皮普。”
我姐姐用比刚才更严厉的声音追问道：“究竟怎么回事？”
“你要是能把它咳出一点儿，皮鲁，我劝你还是咳出来好。”乔吓得已慌了手 脚，不知道说什么是好。“礼仪固然是礼仪，你的身体也还是你的身体。要注意健 康。”
这时我姐姐火气上来了，再也按捺不住，奔过来扑向乔，抓住他两颊的络腮胡 子，把他的头在后墙上撞了好一段时间。我坐在墙角边，心中深感负疚，因为一切 由我引起。
“好吧，你现在总可以说说究竟是怎么一回事了吧，”我姐姐急得气都透不过 来了，“你这个瞪着眼的该千刀万刚的大肥猪。”
乔毫无办法地看了一看她，接着又毫无办法地咬了一口面包，然后又看了看我。
“皮普，你要懂得。’乔对我说，带着严肃的神情。他最后一口把面包全部塞 进嘴巴，真心诚意地和我谈心里话，仿佛只有我们两人在这里似的。“你和我永远 是情如手足的朋友，我绝不会做出告发你的事，任何时候都不会。不过，”他移动 了一下椅子，在地上找了一阵，然后继续说道，“像你这次把它一口吞进去，真是 太不寻常了。”
“他把面包，一口吞进去了，是不是？”我姐姐大声叫道。
“老伙计，我告诉你，”乔望着我说道，却没有望着他妻子，刚才吃进去的面 包，还在嘴里没有咽进去，“我在你这个年纪时也和你一样，时常喜欢吞食。而且， 我在孩子时就已经是一个吞食能手了。但是，我还没有见过一个可以和你相比的。 皮普，你真走运，吞进这么一大块面包竟然没有死。”
我姐姐冲到我面前，一把抓住我的头发，像钓鱼似的把我拎了起来，一开口就 把我的胆吓破了。她说：“你还不快过来，让我给你服一剂药。”
不知道是什么兽医把古代用的柏油水又当作了不起的万灵药复兴了。乔夫人把 它当宝贝放在食橱中，作常备药。柏油水肮脏不堪，难以入口，正因为此，她的确 相信它有治百病的功效。在最幸运的时候，这种药竟被当成了最上等的补品，要我 大喝特喝，使我走到哪里都感到有一种味道，和新筑成的篱笆味差不多。何况今天 是个特殊的夜晚，我发生了紧急病情，于是喝了一品脱这种混合补剂。我姐姐 为了使我喝得舒服、恢复得快，把我的头夹在她的胳肢窝下面，像用拔靴器拔靴子 的架势，把柏油水灌进我的喉咙管里。乔也倒了霉，喝了半品脱，也是得硬吞 进去的。他本来坐在炉火前慢慢细嚼刚才吃进去的面包，同时漫不经意地思索着， 而现在给弄得心烦意乱。他吞药是因为“他刚才大吃了一惊”。其实我以为， 刚才他并没有大吃一惊，而现在才是真正的吃惊不小。
良心，无论在谴责成人还是谴责儿童时，都是一件可怕的事。从良心谴责孩子 这点来看，我可以作证。我的良心里有个秘密的负担，而裤脚管里又有另一个秘密 的负担，两个秘密通力合作，这种良心的谴责，真是一个严重的处罚。一方面，我 准备去偷乔夫人的东西，一想到它便有一种犯罪感。我从来不会想到去偷窃乔的东 西，因为我认为家中的物品没有一件是他的。另一方面，无论我坐着，还是被派到 厨房里干些小事情，我都要用手按住裤脚管里的奶油面包。这两方面加在一起几乎 使我发狂。这时，沼泽地吹来的风把炉火吹得很旺，闪动着光芒。我仿佛听到从外 面传来的声音，那个腿上带着镣铐的人的声音。他曾要我发誓保守秘密，而现在似 乎正向我发话，说他饿极了，挨不到明天早晨，要我立刻给他送吃的东西去。一会 儿，我又想到那个年轻人。那人花费了很大气力才阻止了这年轻人来挖我的心肝， 可如果这年轻人饿得等不及了，或者搞错了时间，把明天当成今夜，那他马上就会 来挖我的心肝五脏了！如果说世上真的有那种令人恐惧的事，把人们吓得头发倒竖， 我的头发一定会倒竖起来。不过，也许世上根本就没有那么一回事。
这是圣诞节前夕，我不得不坐在荷兰自鸣钟旁边，拿一根钢棒搅拌明天要用的 布丁原料，从七时揽到八时。我一面干活一面感到腿部的负担，同时联想到那个人 腿部的负担。我不停地干着活，快把那块奶油面包从裤脚管中震荡出来了，简直无 法控制。幸亏脱身的机会来了，我真想马上回到我的亭子间卧室去。
我结束了搅拌工作，趁还没有叫我去睡觉之机，在火炉旁边暖和自己的身体。 我对乔说道：“乔，你听！是不是大炮声？”
“噢！”乔说道，“又逃走了一个万人。”
“你说什么，乔？”我问道。
乔夫人总是喜欢表现自己。现在，她又带点火气地说道：“有犯人逃跑了。” 她说话的腔调真像给我灌柏油水一样。
乔夫人低头在的针线活儿，我便对乔用嘴做了几个口型，问他什么是犯人？ 乔也学我的样，回答了我，但他的口型相当复杂，我除了辨别出有一个“皮普”以 外，其他意思怎么也猜不透。
过了一会儿，乔大声说道：“昨天傍晚，太阳落山以后，有一个万人逃走了， 他们放炮通告他的逃走。现在放炮是通告又有一个万人逃走。”乔总是把“犯”人 说成“万”人。
“谁在放炮？”我问道。
“你这小鬼真讨厌，”我姐姐从针线活上抬起面孔，对我皱起眉头，说，“没 完没了地问。问多必失，问题问多了难免要受骗。”
我想我的姐姐也真不讲道理，即使我问题问得多一些，也不该像她所说的那样 会受她的骗。不过她也无所谓，只要没有客人在场，她从来是不讲道理的。
就在这个时候，乔尽了最大努力把他的嘴巴张得很大，这便增强了我的好奇心， 研究他口型所表示的词语。我看那很像是“发火”（sulks），所以当然地指着乔夫 人，对乔张开嘴，“是指她吗？”但是乔根本没有理会我，又一次把嘴巴张得很大 很大，把那个词强调得非常明显。可是，我完全猜不透这个词是什么。
我毫无办法可想，只有采取最后手段。我对姐姐说：“乔夫人，要是你不很介 意的话，能不能告诉我，究竟是什么地方放炮？”
“愿主保佑你这个孩子！”我姐姐大声说道，“炮是监狱船（hulks）上放的。” 她说得动听，要主来保佑我，其实她的意思正好相反。
“哦！”我这才明白了，于是望着乔说道，“监狱船！”
乔责备性地对我咳了一声，仿佛说他本来对我讲的就是监狱船嘛。
“可是我还想问，什么是监狱船呢？”我说道。
“这完全是个小孩子！”我姐姐一面摇着头，一面用她的针线指着我大声嚷道， “回答了他一个问题，他又要问十来个，真是得寸进尺。监狱船就是关犯人的船， 这船就在‘沼’的对面。”我们这一带总是用“沼”这个词表示乡下的沼泽地。
“我真不知道监狱船里关什么人，更不知道为什么要把他们关进去。”我说时， 特地装出一副平静的样子，以掩盖内心的焦急。
这下子惹恼了我的姐姐，她立刻火冒三丈地跳起来：“我给你讲过什么呢，你 这个鬼东西？我一手把你带大，不是叫你总是逗着人玩。要是把你养成了烦人的人， 我就得天天挨骂，谁还会说我好呢。把他们关进监狱船，因为他们杀人，因为他们 抢劫，因为他们伪造物品，做各种各样的坏事，他们都是从小时候喜欢乱问开始学 坏的。现在，你懂了吧，快去上床睡觉吧！”
我上床从来没有一支蜡烛照亮。现在，我摸着黑上楼梯，头上一阵阵刺痛，因 为我姐姐在讲到最后的话时，用顶针顶在我头上，像摇小手鼓一样，使我感到钻心 般的痛。她说的话使我非常害怕。监狱船就在附近，这给我被关进去大开方便之门。 显然，我正走上这条路。我已经开始喜欢乱问，而且正准备去偷乔夫人的东西。
事情尽管已过去很久，但它时常亲绕着我的心，使我再三回味。世上究竟有几 个人了解孩子心中的秘密，了解由于恐怖的袭击，会造成他什么样的心情。不管这 类恐怖多么不近乎情理，对孩子一定会造成损伤。那个要挖出我心肝五脏的年轻人 吓得我要死；和我交谈的那个腿上系着脚镣的人吓得我要死；我也被我自己吓得要 死，因为我答应给他做事许下了可怕的誓言。我不能指望神通广大、无所不能的姐 姐来救我。她只会把我拒之于门外，从来没有给过我帮助。现在我想起当年的心情 还恐惧不安，一个孩子由于内在的恐怖真不知会干出什么。
那天夜里，只要我一闭上眼，就好像置身于汹涌澎湃的波涛上，朦朦胧胧地正 向着监狱船漂荡而去；当我经过那个绞刑架时，一个阴森森幽灵般的海盗正手持喊 话筒对我喊话，叫我快漂向海岸，上绞架去受刑，不要延误时机。当时就是想睡， 我也不敢睡，因为第二天一早，天只要氵蒙氵蒙亮的时候，我就要到食品间去偷东 西。黑夜里无法行窃，因为那个时候还没这么轻易地一擦就取到火的东西。要想取 火，就必须用火刀火石，而那样就糟了，因为火刀火石碰撞出的声音和那个海盗身 上嘎啦嘎啦的镣铐声相差无几。
我从房中的小窗看到外面一片黑丝绒般的天幕上泛出一丝灰光，赶忙从床上跳 起，向楼下走去。每一块楼梯板、每一块楼梯板上的裂缝都似乎跟在我后面高叫， “抓贼，乔夫人快起来抓贼！”我到了食品间。哇；这么多好吃的东西，比平时多 得多，真得谢谢圣诞节。就在我转过半边身子时，突然吓了一大跳，前面正倒悬着 一只兔子，而且我想这死兔子正对我眨着眼。当时我根本来不及仔细辨认，来不及 挑选，来不及过问任何一件事，因为我必须抓紧时间。我偷了一些面包、一些干酪 皮、半盆碎肉，把这些和昨天的那块奶油面包一起包在一块手帕中；此外，我从石 玉酒坛中偷了点白兰地，用小玻璃瓶装好，（这小玻璃瓶是我秘密收在房中，用来 制造散发芳香的西班牙式甘草液的。）然后，我在厨房的食品橱里找到一个水壶， 往石玉酒坛中注进一些水；我还拿了块上面已没有什么肉的骨头，以及一只又回又 漂亮的猪肉馅饼。本来我不知道有馅饼，只是出于好奇心，爬上了架子去看边角上 一只盖得严严实实的陶瓷盆。掀开来一瞧，原来是一块猪肉馅饼，当然，我也就带 上了。我希望这块饼不是马上就要用的，也就不会马上发现被窃。
厨房里有一扇门通向铁匠铺。我先打开锁，再拉开闩，从乔的工具中拿了一把 锉子。然后，我把一切都照原样弄好，打开昨天晚上跑回家时走的那扇门，出去后 再关好，便向雾气迷氵蒙的沼泽地奔去。
I, and had established a great reputation with herself and the
neighbors because she had brought me up "by hand." Having at that
time to find out for myself what the expression meant, and knowing
her to have a hard and heavy hand, and to be much in the habit of
laying it upon her husband as well as upon me, I supposed that Joe
Gargery and I were both brought up by hand.
She was not a good-looking woman, my sister; and I had a general
impression that she must have made Joe Gargery marry her by hand.
Joe was a fair man, with curls of flaxen hair on each side of his
smooth face, and with eyes of such a very undecided blue that they
seemed to have somehow got mixed with their own whites. He was a
mild, good-natured, sweet-tempered, easy-going, foolish, dear
fellow,--a sort of Hercules in strength, and also in weakness.
My sister, Mrs. Joe, with black hair and eyes, had such a prevailing
redness of skin that I sometimes used to wonder whether it was
possible she washed herself with a nutmeg-grater instead of soap.
She was tall and bony, and almost always wore a coarse apron,
fastened over her figure behind with two loops, and having a square
impregnable bib in front, that was stuck full of pins and needles.
She made it a powerful merit in herself, and a strong reproach
against Joe, that she wore this apron so much. Though I really see
no reason why she should have worn it at all; or why, if she did
wear it at all, she should not have taken it off, every day of her
life.
Joe's forge adjoined our house, which was a wooden house, as many
of the dwellings in our country were,--most of them, at that time.
When I ran home from the churchyard, the forge was shut up, and Joe
was sitting alone in the kitchen. Joe and I being fellow-sufferers,
and having confidences as such, Joe imparted a confidence to me,
the moment I raised the latch of the door and peeped in at him
opposite to it, sitting in the chimney corner.
"Mrs. Joe has been out a dozen times, looking for you, Pip. And
she's out now, making it a baker's dozen."
"Is she?"
"Yes, Pip," said Joe; "and what's worse, she's got Tickler with
her."
At this dismal intelligence, I twisted the only button on my
waistcoat round and round, and looked in great depression at the
fire. Tickler was a wax-ended piece of cane, worn smooth by
collision with my tickled frame.
"She sot down," said Joe, "and she got up, and she made a grab at
Tickler, and she Ram-paged out. That's what she did," said Joe,
slowly clearing the fire between the lower bars with the poker, and
looking at it; "she Ram-paged out, Pip."
"Has she been gone long, Joe?" I always treated him as a larger
species of child, and as no more than my equal.
"Well," said Joe, glancing up at the Dutch clock, "she's been on
the Ram-page, this last spell, about five minutes, Pip. She's a
coming! Get behind the door, old chap, and have the jack-towel
betwixt you."
I took the advice. My sister, Mrs. Joe, throwing the door wide open,
and finding an obstruction behind it, immediately divined the
cause, and applied Tickler to its further investigation. She
concluded by throwing me--I often served as a connubial missile--
at Joe, who, glad to get hold of me on any terms, passed me on into
the chimney and quietly fenced me up there with his great leg.
"Where have you been, you young monkey?" said Mrs. Joe, stamping her
foot. "Tell me directly what you've been doing to wear me away with
fret and fright and worrit, or I'd have you out of that corner if
you was fifty Pips, and he was five hundred Gargerys."
"I have only been to the churchyard," said I, from my stool, crying
and rubbing myself.
"Churchyard!" repeated my sister. "If it warn't for me you'd have
been to the churchyard long ago, and stayed there. Who brought you
up by hand?"
"You did," said I.
"And why did I do it, I should like to know?" exclaimed my sister.
I whimpered, "I don't know."
"I don't!" said my sister. "I'd never do it again! I know that. I
may truly say I've never had this apron of mine off since born you
were. It's bad enough to be a blacksmith's wife (and him a Gargery)
without being your mother."
My thoughts strayed from that question as I looked disconsolately
at the fire. For the fugitive out on the marshes with the ironed
leg, the mysterious young man, the file, the food, and the dreadful
pledge I was under to commit a larceny on those sheltering
premises, rose before me in the avenging coals.
"Hah!" said Mrs. Joe, restoring Tickler to his station. "Churchyard,
indeed! You may well say churchyard, you two." One of us,
by the by, had not said it at all. "You'll drive me to the
churchyard betwixt you, one of these days, and O, a pr-r-recious
pair you'd be without me!"
As she applied herself to set the tea-things, Joe peeped down at me
over his leg, as if he were mentally casting me and himself up, and
calculating what kind of pair we practically should make, under the
grievous circumstances foreshadowed. After that, he sat feeling his
right-side flaxen curls and whisker, and following Mrs. Joe about
with his blue eyes, as his manner always was at squally times.
My sister had a trenchant way of cutting our bread and butter for
us, that never varied. First, with her left hand she jammed the
loaf hard and fast against her bib,--where it sometimes got a pin
into it, and sometimes a needle, which we afterwards got into our
mouths. Then she took some butter (not too much) on a knife and
spread it on the loaf, in an apothecary kind of way, as if she were
making a plaster,--using both sides of the knife with a slapping
dexterity, and trimming and moulding the butter off round the
crust. Then, she gave the knife a final smart wipe on the edge of
the plaster, and then sawed a very thick round off the loaf: which
she finally, before separating from the loaf, hewed into two
halves, of which Joe got one, and I the other.
On the present occasion, though I was hungry, I dared not eat my
slice. I felt that I must have something in reserve for my dreadful
acquaintance, and his ally the still more dreadful young man. I
knew Mrs. Joe's housekeeping to be of the strictest kind, and that
my larcenous researches might find nothing available in the safe.
Therefore I resolved to put my hunk of bread and butter down the
leg of my trousers.
The effort of resolution necessary to the achievement of this
purpose I found to be quite awful. It was as if I had to make up
my mind to leap from the top of a high house, or plunge into a
great depth of water. And it was made the more difficult by the
unconscious Joe. In our already-mentioned freemasonry as
fellow-sufferers, and in his good-natured companionship with me, it
was our evening habit to compare the way we bit through our slices,
by silently holding them up to each other's admiration now and then,
--which stimulated us to new exertions. To-night, Joe several times
invited me, by the display of his fast diminishing slice, to enter
upon our usual friendly competition; but he found me, each time,
with my yellow mug of tea on one knee, and my untouched
bread and butter on the other. At last, I desperately considered
that the thing I contemplated must be done, and that it had best be
done in the least improbable manner consistent with the
circumstances. I took advantage of a moment when Joe had just
looked at me, and got my bread and butter down my leg.
Joe was evidently made uncomfortable by what he supposed to be my
loss of appetite, and took a thoughtful bite out of his slice,
which he didn't seem to enjoy. He turned it about in his mouth much
longer than usual, pondering over it a good deal, and after all
gulped it down like a pill. He was about to take another bite, and
had just got his head on one side for a good purchase on it, when
his eye fell on me, and he saw that my bread and butter was gone.
The wonder and consternation with which Joe stopped on the
threshold of his bite and stared at me, were too evident to escape
my sister's observation.
"What's the matter now?" said she, smartly, as she put down her
cup.
"I say, you know!" muttered Joe, shaking his head at me in very
serious remonstrance. "Pip, old chap! You'll do yourself a
mischief. It'll stick somewhere. You can't have chawed it, Pip."
"What's the matter now?" repeated my sister, more sharply than
before.
"If you can cough any trifle on it up, Pip, I'd recommend you to do
it," said Joe, all aghast. "Manners is manners, but still your
elth's your elth."
By this time, my sister was quite desperate, so she pounced on Joe,
and, taking him by the two whiskers, knocked his head for a little
while against the wall behind him, while I sat in the corner,
looking guiltily on.
"Now, perhaps you'll mention what's the matter," said my sister,
out of breath, "you staring great stuck pig."
Joe looked at her in a helpless way, then took a helpless bite, and
looked at me again.
"You know, Pip," said Joe, solemnly, with his last bite in his
cheek, and speaking in a confidential voice, as if we two were quite
alone, "you and me is always friends, and I'd be the last to tell
upon you, any time. But such a--" he moved his chair and looked
about the floor between us, and then again at me--"such a most
oncommon Bolt as that!"
"Been bolting his food, has he?" cried my sister.
"You know, old chap," said Joe, looking at me, and not at Mrs. Joe,
with his bite still in his cheek, "I Bolted, myself, when I was
your age--frequent--and as a boy I've been among a many Bolters;
but I never see your Bolting equal yet, Pip, and it's a mercy you
ain't Bolted dead."
My sister made a dive at me, and fished me up by the hair, saying
nothing more than the awful words, "You come along and be dosed."
Some medical beast had revived Tar-water in those days as a fine
medicine, and Mrs. Joe always kept a supply of it in the cupboard;
having a belief in its virtues correspondent to its nastiness. At
the best of times, so much of this elixir was administered to me as
a choice restorative, that I was conscious of going about, smelling
like a new fence. On this particular evening the urgency of my case
demanded a pint of this mixture, which was poured down my throat,
for my greater comfort, while Mrs. Joe held my head under her arm,
as a boot would be held in a bootjack. Joe got off with half a
pint; but was made to swallow that (much to his disturbance, as he
sat slowly munching and meditating before the fire), "because he had
had a turn." Judging from myself, I should say he certainly had a
turn afterwards, if he had had none before.
Conscience is a dreadful thing when it accuses man or boy; but
when, in the case of a boy, that secret burden co-operates with
another secret burden down the leg of his trousers, it is (as I can
testify) a great punishment. The guilty knowledge that I was going
to rob Mrs. Joe--I never thought I was going to rob Joe, for I
never thought of any of the housekeeping property as his--united
to the necessity of always keeping one hand on my bread and butter
as I sat, or when I was ordered about the kitchen on any small
errand, almost drove me out of my mind. Then, as the marsh winds
made the fire glow and flare, I thought I heard the voice outside,
of the man with the iron on his leg who had sworn me to secrecy,
declaring that he couldn't and wouldn't starve until to-morrow, but
must be fed now. At other times, I thought, What if the young man
who was with so much difficulty restrained from imbruing his hands
in me should yield to a constitutional impatience, or should
mistake the time, and should think himself accredited to my heart
and liver to-night, instead of to-morrow! If ever anybody's hair
stood on end with terror, mine must have done so then. But,
perhaps, nobody's ever did?
It was Christmas Eve, and I had to stir the pudding for next day,
with a copper-stick, from seven to eight by the Dutch clock. I
tried it with the load upon my leg (and that made me think afresh
of the man with the load on his leg), and found the tendency of
exercise to bring the bread and butter out at my ankle, quite
unmanageable. Happily I slipped away, and deposited that part of
my conscience in my garret bedroom.
"Hark!" said I, when I had done my stirring, and was taking a final
warm in the chimney corner before being sent up to bed; "was that
great guns, Joe?"
"Ah!" said Joe. "There's another conwict off."
"What does that mean, Joe?" said I.
Mrs. Joe, who always took explanations upon herself, said,
snappishly, "Escaped. Escaped." Administering the definition like
Tar-water.
While Mrs. Joe sat with her head bending over her needlework, I put
my mouth into the forms of saying to Joe, "What's a convict?" Joe
put his mouth into the forms of returning such a highly elaborate
answer, that I could make out nothing of it but the single word
"Pip."
"There was a conwict off last night," said Joe, aloud, "after
sunset-gun. And they fired warning of him. And now it appears
they're firing warning of another."
"Who's firing?" said I.
"Drat that boy," interposed my sister, frowning at me over her
work, "what a questioner he is. Ask no questions, and you'll be
told no lies."
It was not very polite to herself, I thought, to imply that I should
be told lies by her even if I did ask questions. But she never was
polite unless there was company.
At this point Joe greatly augmented my curiosity by taking the
utmost pains to open his mouth very wide, and to put it into the
form of a word that looked to me like "sulks." Therefore, I
naturally pointed to Mrs. Joe, and put my mouth into the form of
saying, "her?" But Joe wouldn't hear of that, at all, and again
opened his mouth very wide, and shook the form of a most emphatic
word out of it. But I could make nothing of the word.
"Mrs. Joe," said I, as a last resort, "I should like to know--if
you wouldn't much mind--where the firing comes from?"
"Lord bless the boy!" exclaimed my sister, as if she didn't quite
mean that but rather the contrary. "From the Hulks!"
"Oh-h!" said I, looking at Joe. "Hulks!"
Joe gave a reproachful cough, as much as to say, "Well, I told you
so."
"And please, what's Hulks?" said I.
"That's the way with this boy!" exclaimed my sister, pointing me
out with her needle and thread, and shaking her head at me. "Answer
him one question, and he'll ask you a dozen directly. Hulks are
prison-ships, right 'cross th' meshes." We always used that name
for marshes, in our country.
"I wonder who's put into prison-ships, and why they're put there?"
said I, in a general way, and with quiet desperation.
It was too much for Mrs. Joe, who immediately rose. "I tell you
what, young fellow," said she, "I didn't bring you up by hand to
badger people's lives out. It would be blame to me and not praise,
if I had. People are put in the Hulks because they murder, and
because they rob, and forge, and do all sorts of bad; and they
always begin by asking questions. Now, you get along to bed!"
I was never allowed a candle to light me to bed, and, as I went
up stairs in the dark, with my head tingling,--from Mrs. Joe's
thimble having played the tambourine upon it, to accompany her last
words,--I felt fearfully sensible of the great convenience that the
hulks were handy for me. I was clearly on my way there. I had begun
by asking questions, and I was going to rob Mrs. Joe.
Since that time, which is far enough away now, I have often thought
that few people know what secrecy there is in the young under
terror. No matter how unreasonable the terror, so that it be
terror. I was in mortal terror of the young man who wanted my heart
and liver; I was in mortal terror of my interlocutor with the
iron leg; I was in mortal terror of myself, from whom an awful
promise had been extracted; I had no hope of deliverance through my
all-powerful sister, who repulsed me at every turn; I am afraid to
think of what I might have done on requirement, in the secrecy of
my terror.
If I slept at all that night, it was only to imagine myself
drifting down the river on a strong spring-tide, to the Hulks; a
ghostly pirate calling out to me through a speaking-trumpet, as I
passed the gibbet-station, that I had better come ashore and be
hanged there at once, and not put it off. I was afraid to sleep,
even if I had been inclined, for I knew that at the first faint
dawn of morning I must rob the pantry. There was no doing it in the
night, for there was no getting a light by easy friction then; to
have got one I must have struck it out of flint and steel, and
have made a noise like the very pirate himself rattling his chains.
As soon as the great black velvet pall outside my little window was
shot with gray, I got up and went down stairs; every board upon the
way, and every crack in every board calling after me, "Stop
thief!" and "Get up, Mrs. Joe!" In the pantry, which was far more
abundantly supplied than usual, owing to the season, I was very
much alarmed by a hare hanging up by the heels, whom I rather
thought I caught when my back was half turned, winking. I had no
time for verification, no time for selection, no time for anything,
for I had no time to spare. I stole some bread, some rind of
cheese, about half a jar of mincemeat (which I tied up in my
pocket-handkerchief with my last night's slice), some brandy from a
stone bottle (which I decanted into a glass bottle I had secretly
used for making that intoxicating fluid, Spanish-liquorice-water,
up in my room: diluting the stone bottle from a jug in the kitchen
cupboard), a meat bone with very little on it, and a beautiful
round compact pork pie. I was nearly going away without the pie,
but I was tempted to mount upon a shelf, to look what it was that
was put away so carefully in a covered earthen ware dish in a
corner, and I found it was the pie, and I took it in the hope that
it was not intended for early use, and would not be missed for some
time.
There was a door in the kitchen, communicating with the forge; I
unlocked and unbolted that door, and got a file from among Joe's
tools. Then I put the fastenings as I had found them, opened the
door at which I had entered when I ran home last night, shut it,
and ran for the misty marshes.
我的姐姐并不是一位标致的女人。我有一个总体的印象，她一定是想方设法才 使乔·葛奇里娶她为妻的。乔是一位皮肤洁白的男士，两顿光滑，双鬓留着金色的 鬈发，一双明眸发出淡蓝色的光，淡得几乎和眼自混成一体，难以分辨。他性情温 和柔顺，心肠善良，脾气平和，平易近人。虽带有三分傻气，却是个极其可爱的人。 在阳刚方面，他力大无比；在阴柔方面，他见了老婆就怕；真有点儿像赫尔克勒斯。
我的姐姐乔夫人生得一头的乌发，有一对乌黑的眼睛，皮肤却是一片红色。有 时我不禁怀疑，她可能不用肥皂，而是用肉豆营蔻擦子擦洗皮肤的。她身材高大， 身上几乎永远围着一条粗布围裙，用两个活结扎在她背后。她在胸部围了一条非常 结实的围嘴儿，上面别满了别针和缝衣针。她成天围着围裙是为了显示她主持及操 劳家务的伟大功绩，同时也以此为资本可以狠狠地责骂丈夫。不过，我看不出她有 什么理由非围着围裙不可，即使要围围裙，也没有必要成天不离身。
乔的铁匠铺和我们的住房连在一起。我们的房子是木结构的，和我们乡下许多 居民房屋一样，都是木屋。我从教堂墓地上气不接下气地跑回家时，铁匠铺已经打 烊了，乔一个人正孤独地坐在厨房。乔和我在这个家庭中都是受气的沦落人，所以 我们两个人便以诚相待，推心置腹。我打开门闩，把头伸进去一看，在火炉边上正 坐着乔，因为火炉就对着门。
“你姐姐出去找你有十二次了，皮普，现在又出去找你，一共十三次了。”
“她去找我吗？”
“是去找你，皮普。”乔说道，“更糟的是她带着那根呵痒棍呢。”
听到这个令人沮丧的消息，我焦急地扭动着背心上仅剩的一颗钮扣，把它转来 转去，带着灰心失望的情绪呆呆地望着炉火。呵痒棍是一根长棍棒，棍头上涂着蜡。 这根棍子经常在我身上搔痒，早就被磨得滑溜溜的了。
乔告诉我：“她一会坐下来，一会站起来，然后一把抓起呵痒棍就疯狂地跑了 出去。就是这些。”乔一面说着，一面漫不经心地拿起火钳拨人，双眼看着炉火。 “皮普，她疯狂地跑出去了。”
“她已经去了很久了吗，乔？”我从来不把他当作大人看待。他只不过是个大 孩子，和我身份没有两样，所以我说话也直来直往。
“嗯，”乔瞅着那座荷兰式自鸣钟说道，“她疯狂地奔出去，这最后一次去了 有五分钟了，皮普。不好，她回来了！快躲到门背后去，老伙计，用那条长毛巾遮 上你。”
我照乔的话做了。我的姐姐，乔夫人，猛地把屋门推开，一下子就看到门背后 有个东西遮挡着，而且算出了是什么，于是伸出了呵痒棍去试探。她试探的结果便 是把我拎起来扔向乔——我常常这样成了他们两人之间的飞箭——而乔则高高兴兴 地接住了我，把我放在火炉旁边，伸出一条巨大的腿，悄悄地保护着我。
“你究竟到哪去了，你这个小皮猴子？”乔夫人跺着脚说道，“你老老实实告 诉我你去干什么了，害得我着急、害怕、担心，把我累得要死。你要不说，小心我 把你从角落里拎出来，就是五十个皮普，再加上五百个葛奇里也没用。”
“我只是到教堂墓地去了。”我坐在小凳子上哭着说，一面揉着疼痛的地方。
“教堂墓地！”我姐姐重复着这几个字，“要不是我照看你，怕你早埋进了教 堂墓地，在那儿长眠了。我问你，谁把你一手带大的？”
“当然是你。”我赶忙答道。
“我为什么要把你一手带大，你倒说给我听听。”我姐姐大声吼道。
我轻轻啜泣着说：“我不知道。”
“你不知道！”我姐姐说道，“我再不想干这种事了！你说不知道，我倒知道。 老实告诉你，自从你一出生，我这条围裙就没有离过身。做一个铁匠的老婆已经够 糟了，何况又是一个葛奇里铁匠，还要做你的妈妈！”
我郁闷而又忧伤地望着炉火，思想早就开小差了，她的问话根本没有听进去。 盘旋在我脑海中的是那个腿上缚着铁镣的逃犯、那个神秘的年轻人，还有锉子、吃 的东西，以及我可怕的誓言。我不得不去做一次小偷，在我寄居的屋檐下去偷。炉 火冒出复仇的火焰，使所有这一切东西都跳到我的眼前。
“嘿嘿！”乔夫人冷笑着，把呵痒棍放到原来的地方。“教堂墓地，好一个教 堂墓地！你们两个人轮番说着教堂墓地。”其实在我们两个人中有一个人根本没有 说过这个词。“你们两个人对我夹攻，想把我赶进坟墓。真的到了那一天，嘿，要 是没有了我，看你们这对活——活宝怎么办！”
然后她便收拾茶具去了。这时乔从他的大腿下面偷偷地瞧着我，仿佛在心中考 虑着我和他自己，算计着要是果然这个有严重后果的预言应验了，我们这对难兄难 弟该如何是好。他坐在那里，抚摸着自己头右侧的淡黄色鬈发和胡子，淡蓝色的眼 珠随着他夫人的走来走去而转来转去。凡遇到这类险恶形势时，他总是这般模样。
我姐姐给我们切面包、涂奶油，总是手脚麻利，十分轻快，而且动作一成不变。 一开始，她先用左手把面包紧紧地压在她的围嘴上，自然，有时是一根别针，有时 又是一根缝衣针扎进了面包，我们也就连针连面包都吃进嘴里。接着，她抹一些奶 油在餐刀上，不多，就一点儿，然后再涂到面包上。她麻利得活像药房中的药剂师 在做膏药，一把刀子在她手上运用自如，两面涂油，十分敏捷。薄薄的奶油均匀地 涂在面包上，没有一处遗漏。然后，她用餐刀在膏药的边上做最后一次精心涂抹， 结束后，从面包上切下厚厚的一片。在这片面包和整只面包完全分离之前，她加上 一刀，把它一分为二，一块给乔，另一块给我。
当时我确实很饿，但是我不敢吃这一份面包。我想我一定要保留一些给那个可 怕的朋友吃，还要留一些给他的伙伴，也就是那个更加可怕的年轻人。我知道我姐 姐治家谨严，管理认真；我要想偷些什么，看来从食橱中是找不到的。所以，我决 定把这一大厚片奶油面包放在裤脚管中。
要达到这个目的，必须要有决心，而且要努力才行。我发现这是很难的事。这 就好像我必须下定决心从很高的屋顶上跳下来，或者跳进一片深水中。更加困难的 是乔对这件事一无所知。前面曾提到过，我和乔两个同是这房屋中的沦落人，他心 地善良，与我友好相处。在吃晚餐时，我们有个习惯，要比较一下吃面包的速度， 不时地悄悄拿起所啃的面包比一下，并且相互会心地表示赞美。这样，我们啃面包 就越啃越有劲。今天晚上，乔几次邀请我比赛，并且展示出他飞快吃剩下的一个小 块。他要和我像往常一样进行友谊竞赛。但是，每一次他都看到在我的一只膝盖上 放着我那只黄色的茶杯，在另一只膝盖上是我一口还没有咬过的奶油面包。最后， 我不得不孤注一掷。我沉思的结果是这件事不能不做，而且要看准机会，于不知不 觉中把它办好。于是，我看准了乔注视我后刚把头转过去的这一刹那，趁机把奶油 面包装进了我的裤脚管。
乔以为我胃口不好不想吃，因此也感到无精打采，浑身不舒服。他心思沉重地 从面包片上咬了一小口，似乎吃起来不得劲。一小口面包在他嘴里细磨慢嚼，比平 常所用的时间要长得多。他边嚼边想，最后才像吃药丸一样把它吞下去，然后他准 备咬第二口。就在这时，他的目光又落到我身上，突然发现我的奶油面包已经无影 无踪。
乔感到惊诧，甚至有些愕然，一小口面包停在两排牙齿中间，眼睛直瞪瞪地望 着我。这一切都逃不脱我姐姐那一双善于观察的眼睛。
“你怎么了？”她说着，声音中带着严厉，并且把手中的茶杯放了下来。
乔对我摇着头，用非常严肃的规劝口吻低低地对我说：“哎呀，你该懂！皮普， 我的老伙计，你可是在和自己开玩笑！一嚼不嚼吞进去，会卡在什么地方的，皮普。”
我姐姐用比刚才更严厉的声音追问道：“究竟怎么回事？”
“你要是能把它咳出一点儿，皮鲁，我劝你还是咳出来好。”乔吓得已慌了手 脚，不知道说什么是好。“礼仪固然是礼仪，你的身体也还是你的身体。要注意健 康。”
这时我姐姐火气上来了，再也按捺不住，奔过来扑向乔，抓住他两颊的络腮胡 子，把他的头在后墙上撞了好一段时间。我坐在墙角边，心中深感负疚，因为一切 由我引起。
“好吧，你现在总可以说说究竟是怎么一回事了吧，”我姐姐急得气都透不过 来了，“你这个瞪着眼的该千刀万刚的大肥猪。”
乔毫无办法地看了一看她，接着又毫无办法地咬了一口面包，然后又看了看我。
“皮普，你要懂得。’乔对我说，带着严肃的神情。他最后一口把面包全部塞 进嘴巴，真心诚意地和我谈心里话，仿佛只有我们两人在这里似的。“你和我永远 是情如手足的朋友，我绝不会做出告发你的事，任何时候都不会。不过，”他移动 了一下椅子，在地上找了一阵，然后继续说道，“像你这次把它一口吞进去，真是 太不寻常了。”
“他把面包，一口吞进去了，是不是？”我姐姐大声叫道。
“老伙计，我告诉你，”乔望着我说道，却没有望着他妻子，刚才吃进去的面 包，还在嘴里没有咽进去，“我在你这个年纪时也和你一样，时常喜欢吞食。而且， 我在孩子时就已经是一个吞食能手了。但是，我还没有见过一个可以和你相比的。 皮普，你真走运，吞进这么一大块面包竟然没有死。”
我姐姐冲到我面前，一把抓住我的头发，像钓鱼似的把我拎了起来，一开口就 把我的胆吓破了。她说：“你还不快过来，让我给你服一剂药。”
不知道是什么兽医把古代用的柏油水又当作了不起的万灵药复兴了。乔夫人把 它当宝贝放在食橱中，作常备药。柏油水肮脏不堪，难以入口，正因为此，她的确 相信它有治百病的功效。在最幸运的时候，这种药竟被当成了最上等的补品，要我 大喝特喝，使我走到哪里都感到有一种味道，和新筑成的篱笆味差不多。何况今天 是个特殊的夜晚，我发生了紧急病情，于是喝了一品脱这种混合补剂。我姐姐 为了使我喝得舒服、恢复得快，把我的头夹在她的胳肢窝下面，像用拔靴器拔靴子 的架势，把柏油水灌进我的喉咙管里。乔也倒了霉，喝了半品脱，也是得硬吞 进去的。他本来坐在炉火前慢慢细嚼刚才吃进去的面包，同时漫不经意地思索着， 而现在给弄得心烦意乱。他吞药是因为“他刚才大吃了一惊”。其实我以为， 刚才他并没有大吃一惊，而现在才是真正的吃惊不小。
良心，无论在谴责成人还是谴责儿童时，都是一件可怕的事。从良心谴责孩子 这点来看，我可以作证。我的良心里有个秘密的负担，而裤脚管里又有另一个秘密 的负担，两个秘密通力合作，这种良心的谴责，真是一个严重的处罚。一方面，我 准备去偷乔夫人的东西，一想到它便有一种犯罪感。我从来不会想到去偷窃乔的东 西，因为我认为家中的物品没有一件是他的。另一方面，无论我坐着，还是被派到 厨房里干些小事情，我都要用手按住裤脚管里的奶油面包。这两方面加在一起几乎 使我发狂。这时，沼泽地吹来的风把炉火吹得很旺，闪动着光芒。我仿佛听到从外 面传来的声音，那个腿上带着镣铐的人的声音。他曾要我发誓保守秘密，而现在似 乎正向我发话，说他饿极了，挨不到明天早晨，要我立刻给他送吃的东西去。一会 儿，我又想到那个年轻人。那人花费了很大气力才阻止了这年轻人来挖我的心肝， 可如果这年轻人饿得等不及了，或者搞错了时间，把明天当成今夜，那他马上就会 来挖我的心肝五脏了！如果说世上真的有那种令人恐惧的事，把人们吓得头发倒竖， 我的头发一定会倒竖起来。不过，也许世上根本就没有那么一回事。
这是圣诞节前夕，我不得不坐在荷兰自鸣钟旁边，拿一根钢棒搅拌明天要用的 布丁原料，从七时揽到八时。我一面干活一面感到腿部的负担，同时联想到那个人 腿部的负担。我不停地干着活，快把那块奶油面包从裤脚管中震荡出来了，简直无 法控制。幸亏脱身的机会来了，我真想马上回到我的亭子间卧室去。
我结束了搅拌工作，趁还没有叫我去睡觉之机，在火炉旁边暖和自己的身体。 我对乔说道：“乔，你听！是不是大炮声？”
“噢！”乔说道，“又逃走了一个万人。”
“你说什么，乔？”我问道。
乔夫人总是喜欢表现自己。现在，她又带点火气地说道：“有犯人逃跑了。” 她说话的腔调真像给我灌柏油水一样。
乔夫人低头在的针线活儿，我便对乔用嘴做了几个口型，问他什么是犯人？ 乔也学我的样，回答了我，但他的口型相当复杂，我除了辨别出有一个“皮普”以 外，其他意思怎么也猜不透。
过了一会儿，乔大声说道：“昨天傍晚，太阳落山以后，有一个万人逃走了， 他们放炮通告他的逃走。现在放炮是通告又有一个万人逃走。”乔总是把“犯”人 说成“万”人。
“谁在放炮？”我问道。
“你这小鬼真讨厌，”我姐姐从针线活上抬起面孔，对我皱起眉头，说，“没 完没了地问。问多必失，问题问多了难免要受骗。”
我想我的姐姐也真不讲道理，即使我问题问得多一些，也不该像她所说的那样 会受她的骗。不过她也无所谓，只要没有客人在场，她从来是不讲道理的。
就在这个时候，乔尽了最大努力把他的嘴巴张得很大，这便增强了我的好奇心， 研究他口型所表示的词语。我看那很像是“发火”（sulks），所以当然地指着乔夫 人，对乔张开嘴，“是指她吗？”但是乔根本没有理会我，又一次把嘴巴张得很大 很大，把那个词强调得非常明显。可是，我完全猜不透这个词是什么。
我毫无办法可想，只有采取最后手段。我对姐姐说：“乔夫人，要是你不很介 意的话，能不能告诉我，究竟是什么地方放炮？”
“愿主保佑你这个孩子！”我姐姐大声说道，“炮是监狱船（hulks）上放的。” 她说得动听，要主来保佑我，其实她的意思正好相反。
“哦！”我这才明白了，于是望着乔说道，“监狱船！”
乔责备性地对我咳了一声，仿佛说他本来对我讲的就是监狱船嘛。
“可是我还想问，什么是监狱船呢？”我说道。
“这完全是个小孩子！”我姐姐一面摇着头，一面用她的针线指着我大声嚷道， “回答了他一个问题，他又要问十来个，真是得寸进尺。监狱船就是关犯人的船， 这船就在‘沼’的对面。”我们这一带总是用“沼”这个词表示乡下的沼泽地。
“我真不知道监狱船里关什么人，更不知道为什么要把他们关进去。”我说时， 特地装出一副平静的样子，以掩盖内心的焦急。
这下子惹恼了我的姐姐，她立刻火冒三丈地跳起来：“我给你讲过什么呢，你 这个鬼东西？我一手把你带大，不是叫你总是逗着人玩。要是把你养成了烦人的人， 我就得天天挨骂，谁还会说我好呢。把他们关进监狱船，因为他们杀人，因为他们 抢劫，因为他们伪造物品，做各种各样的坏事，他们都是从小时候喜欢乱问开始学 坏的。现在，你懂了吧，快去上床睡觉吧！”
我上床从来没有一支蜡烛照亮。现在，我摸着黑上楼梯，头上一阵阵刺痛，因 为我姐姐在讲到最后的话时，用顶针顶在我头上，像摇小手鼓一样，使我感到钻心 般的痛。她说的话使我非常害怕。监狱船就在附近，这给我被关进去大开方便之门。 显然，我正走上这条路。我已经开始喜欢乱问，而且正准备去偷乔夫人的东西。
事情尽管已过去很久，但它时常亲绕着我的心，使我再三回味。世上究竟有几 个人了解孩子心中的秘密，了解由于恐怖的袭击，会造成他什么样的心情。不管这 类恐怖多么不近乎情理，对孩子一定会造成损伤。那个要挖出我心肝五脏的年轻人 吓得我要死；和我交谈的那个腿上系着脚镣的人吓得我要死；我也被我自己吓得要 死，因为我答应给他做事许下了可怕的誓言。我不能指望神通广大、无所不能的姐 姐来救我。她只会把我拒之于门外，从来没有给过我帮助。现在我想起当年的心情 还恐惧不安，一个孩子由于内在的恐怖真不知会干出什么。
那天夜里，只要我一闭上眼，就好像置身于汹涌澎湃的波涛上，朦朦胧胧地正 向着监狱船漂荡而去；当我经过那个绞刑架时，一个阴森森幽灵般的海盗正手持喊 话筒对我喊话，叫我快漂向海岸，上绞架去受刑，不要延误时机。当时就是想睡， 我也不敢睡，因为第二天一早，天只要氵蒙氵蒙亮的时候，我就要到食品间去偷东 西。黑夜里无法行窃，因为那个时候还没这么轻易地一擦就取到火的东西。要想取 火，就必须用火刀火石，而那样就糟了，因为火刀火石碰撞出的声音和那个海盗身 上嘎啦嘎啦的镣铐声相差无几。
我从房中的小窗看到外面一片黑丝绒般的天幕上泛出一丝灰光，赶忙从床上跳 起，向楼下走去。每一块楼梯板、每一块楼梯板上的裂缝都似乎跟在我后面高叫， “抓贼，乔夫人快起来抓贼！”我到了食品间。哇；这么多好吃的东西，比平时多 得多，真得谢谢圣诞节。就在我转过半边身子时，突然吓了一大跳，前面正倒悬着 一只兔子，而且我想这死兔子正对我眨着眼。当时我根本来不及仔细辨认，来不及 挑选，来不及过问任何一件事，因为我必须抓紧时间。我偷了一些面包、一些干酪 皮、半盆碎肉，把这些和昨天的那块奶油面包一起包在一块手帕中；此外，我从石 玉酒坛中偷了点白兰地，用小玻璃瓶装好，（这小玻璃瓶是我秘密收在房中，用来 制造散发芳香的西班牙式甘草液的。）然后，我在厨房的食品橱里找到一个水壶， 往石玉酒坛中注进一些水；我还拿了块上面已没有什么肉的骨头，以及一只又回又 漂亮的猪肉馅饼。本来我不知道有馅饼，只是出于好奇心，爬上了架子去看边角上 一只盖得严严实实的陶瓷盆。掀开来一瞧，原来是一块猪肉馅饼，当然，我也就带 上了。我希望这块饼不是马上就要用的，也就不会马上发现被窃。
厨房里有一扇门通向铁匠铺。我先打开锁，再拉开闩，从乔的工具中拿了一把 锉子。然后，我把一切都照原样弄好，打开昨天晚上跑回家时走的那扇门，出去后 再关好，便向雾气迷氵蒙的沼泽地奔去。
I, and had established a great reputation with herself and the
neighbors because she had brought me up "by hand." Having at that
time to find out for myself what the expression meant, and knowing
her to have a hard and heavy hand, and to be much in the habit of
laying it upon her husband as well as upon me, I supposed that Joe
Gargery and I were both brought up by hand.
She was not a good-looking woman, my sister; and I had a general
impression that she must have made Joe Gargery marry her by hand.
Joe was a fair man, with curls of flaxen hair on each side of his
smooth face, and with eyes of such a very undecided blue that they
seemed to have somehow got mixed with their own whites. He was a
mild, good-natured, sweet-tempered, easy-going, foolish, dear
fellow,--a sort of Hercules in strength, and also in weakness.
My sister, Mrs. Joe, with black hair and eyes, had such a prevailing
redness of skin that I sometimes used to wonder whether it was
possible she washed herself with a nutmeg-grater instead of soap.
She was tall and bony, and almost always wore a coarse apron,
fastened over her figure behind with two loops, and having a square
impregnable bib in front, that was stuck full of pins and needles.
She made it a powerful merit in herself, and a strong reproach
against Joe, that she wore this apron so much. Though I really see
no reason why she should have worn it at all; or why, if she did
wear it at all, she should not have taken it off, every day of her
life.
Joe's forge adjoined our house, which was a wooden house, as many
of the dwellings in our country were,--most of them, at that time.
When I ran home from the churchyard, the forge was shut up, and Joe
was sitting alone in the kitchen. Joe and I being fellow-sufferers,
and having confidences as such, Joe imparted a confidence to me,
the moment I raised the latch of the door and peeped in at him
opposite to it, sitting in the chimney corner.
"Mrs. Joe has been out a dozen times, looking for you, Pip. And
she's out now, making it a baker's dozen."
"Is she?"
"Yes, Pip," said Joe; "and what's worse, she's got Tickler with
her."
At this dismal intelligence, I twisted the only button on my
waistcoat round and round, and looked in great depression at the
fire. Tickler was a wax-ended piece of cane, worn smooth by
collision with my tickled frame.
"She sot down," said Joe, "and she got up, and she made a grab at
Tickler, and she Ram-paged out. That's what she did," said Joe,
slowly clearing the fire between the lower bars with the poker, and
looking at it; "she Ram-paged out, Pip."
"Has she been gone long, Joe?" I always treated him as a larger
species of child, and as no more than my equal.
"Well," said Joe, glancing up at the Dutch clock, "she's been on
the Ram-page, this last spell, about five minutes, Pip. She's a
coming! Get behind the door, old chap, and have the jack-towel
betwixt you."
I took the advice. My sister, Mrs. Joe, throwing the door wide open,
and finding an obstruction behind it, immediately divined the
cause, and applied Tickler to its further investigation. She
concluded by throwing me--I often served as a connubial missile--
at Joe, who, glad to get hold of me on any terms, passed me on into
the chimney and quietly fenced me up there with his great leg.
"Where have you been, you young monkey?" said Mrs. Joe, stamping her
foot. "Tell me directly what you've been doing to wear me away with
fret and fright and worrit, or I'd have you out of that corner if
you was fifty Pips, and he was five hundred Gargerys."
"I have only been to the churchyard," said I, from my stool, crying
and rubbing myself.
"Churchyard!" repeated my sister. "If it warn't for me you'd have
been to the churchyard long ago, and stayed there. Who brought you
up by hand?"
"You did," said I.
"And why did I do it, I should like to know?" exclaimed my sister.
I whimpered, "I don't know."
"I don't!" said my sister. "I'd never do it again! I know that. I
may truly say I've never had this apron of mine off since born you
were. It's bad enough to be a blacksmith's wife (and him a Gargery)
without being your mother."
My thoughts strayed from that question as I looked disconsolately
at the fire. For the fugitive out on the marshes with the ironed
leg, the mysterious young man, the file, the food, and the dreadful
pledge I was under to commit a larceny on those sheltering
premises, rose before me in the avenging coals.
"Hah!" said Mrs. Joe, restoring Tickler to his station. "Churchyard,
indeed! You may well say churchyard, you two." One of us,
by the by, had not said it at all. "You'll drive me to the
churchyard betwixt you, one of these days, and O, a pr-r-recious
pair you'd be without me!"
As she applied herself to set the tea-things, Joe peeped down at me
over his leg, as if he were mentally casting me and himself up, and
calculating what kind of pair we practically should make, under the
grievous circumstances foreshadowed. After that, he sat feeling his
right-side flaxen curls and whisker, and following Mrs. Joe about
with his blue eyes, as his manner always was at squally times.
My sister had a trenchant way of cutting our bread and butter for
us, that never varied. First, with her left hand she jammed the
loaf hard and fast against her bib,--where it sometimes got a pin
into it, and sometimes a needle, which we afterwards got into our
mouths. Then she took some butter (not too much) on a knife and
spread it on the loaf, in an apothecary kind of way, as if she were
making a plaster,--using both sides of the knife with a slapping
dexterity, and trimming and moulding the butter off round the
crust. Then, she gave the knife a final smart wipe on the edge of
the plaster, and then sawed a very thick round off the loaf: which
she finally, before separating from the loaf, hewed into two
halves, of which Joe got one, and I the other.
On the present occasion, though I was hungry, I dared not eat my
slice. I felt that I must have something in reserve for my dreadful
acquaintance, and his ally the still more dreadful young man. I
knew Mrs. Joe's housekeeping to be of the strictest kind, and that
my larcenous researches might find nothing available in the safe.
Therefore I resolved to put my hunk of bread and butter down the
leg of my trousers.
The effort of resolution necessary to the achievement of this
purpose I found to be quite awful. It was as if I had to make up
my mind to leap from the top of a high house, or plunge into a
great depth of water. And it was made the more difficult by the
unconscious Joe. In our already-mentioned freemasonry as
fellow-sufferers, and in his good-natured companionship with me, it
was our evening habit to compare the way we bit through our slices,
by silently holding them up to each other's admiration now and then,
--which stimulated us to new exertions. To-night, Joe several times
invited me, by the display of his fast diminishing slice, to enter
upon our usual friendly competition; but he found me, each time,
with my yellow mug of tea on one knee, and my untouched
bread and butter on the other. At last, I desperately considered
that the thing I contemplated must be done, and that it had best be
done in the least improbable manner consistent with the
circumstances. I took advantage of a moment when Joe had just
looked at me, and got my bread and butter down my leg.
Joe was evidently made uncomfortable by what he supposed to be my
loss of appetite, and took a thoughtful bite out of his slice,
which he didn't seem to enjoy. He turned it about in his mouth much
longer than usual, pondering over it a good deal, and after all
gulped it down like a pill. He was about to take another bite, and
had just got his head on one side for a good purchase on it, when
his eye fell on me, and he saw that my bread and butter was gone.
The wonder and consternation with which Joe stopped on the
threshold of his bite and stared at me, were too evident to escape
my sister's observation.
"What's the matter now?" said she, smartly, as she put down her
cup.
"I say, you know!" muttered Joe, shaking his head at me in very
serious remonstrance. "Pip, old chap! You'll do yourself a
mischief. It'll stick somewhere. You can't have chawed it, Pip."
"What's the matter now?" repeated my sister, more sharply than
before.
"If you can cough any trifle on it up, Pip, I'd recommend you to do
it," said Joe, all aghast. "Manners is manners, but still your
elth's your elth."
By this time, my sister was quite desperate, so she pounced on Joe,
and, taking him by the two whiskers, knocked his head for a little
while against the wall behind him, while I sat in the corner,
looking guiltily on.
"Now, perhaps you'll mention what's the matter," said my sister,
out of breath, "you staring great stuck pig."
Joe looked at her in a helpless way, then took a helpless bite, and
looked at me again.
"You know, Pip," said Joe, solemnly, with his last bite in his
cheek, and speaking in a confidential voice, as if we two were quite
alone, "you and me is always friends, and I'd be the last to tell
upon you, any time. But such a--" he moved his chair and looked
about the floor between us, and then again at me--"such a most
oncommon Bolt as that!"
"Been bolting his food, has he?" cried my sister.
"You know, old chap," said Joe, looking at me, and not at Mrs. Joe,
with his bite still in his cheek, "I Bolted, myself, when I was
your age--frequent--and as a boy I've been among a many Bolters;
but I never see your Bolting equal yet, Pip, and it's a mercy you
ain't Bolted dead."
My sister made a dive at me, and fished me up by the hair, saying
nothing more than the awful words, "You come along and be dosed."
Some medical beast had revived Tar-water in those days as a fine
medicine, and Mrs. Joe always kept a supply of it in the cupboard;
having a belief in its virtues correspondent to its nastiness. At
the best of times, so much of this elixir was administered to me as
a choice restorative, that I was conscious of going about, smelling
like a new fence. On this particular evening the urgency of my case
demanded a pint of this mixture, which was poured down my throat,
for my greater comfort, while Mrs. Joe held my head under her arm,
as a boot would be held in a bootjack. Joe got off with half a
pint; but was made to swallow that (much to his disturbance, as he
sat slowly munching and meditating before the fire), "because he had
had a turn." Judging from myself, I should say he certainly had a
turn afterwards, if he had had none before.
Conscience is a dreadful thing when it accuses man or boy; but
when, in the case of a boy, that secret burden co-operates with
another secret burden down the leg of his trousers, it is (as I can
testify) a great punishment. The guilty knowledge that I was going
to rob Mrs. Joe--I never thought I was going to rob Joe, for I
never thought of any of the housekeeping property as his--united
to the necessity of always keeping one hand on my bread and butter
as I sat, or when I was ordered about the kitchen on any small
errand, almost drove me out of my mind. Then, as the marsh winds
made the fire glow and flare, I thought I heard the voice outside,
of the man with the iron on his leg who had sworn me to secrecy,
declaring that he couldn't and wouldn't starve until to-morrow, but
must be fed now. At other times, I thought, What if the young man
who was with so much difficulty restrained from imbruing his hands
in me should yield to a constitutional impatience, or should
mistake the time, and should think himself accredited to my heart
and liver to-night, instead of to-morrow! If ever anybody's hair
stood on end with terror, mine must have done so then. But,
perhaps, nobody's ever did?
It was Christmas Eve, and I had to stir the pudding for next day,
with a copper-stick, from seven to eight by the Dutch clock. I
tried it with the load upon my leg (and that made me think afresh
of the man with the load on his leg), and found the tendency of
exercise to bring the bread and butter out at my ankle, quite
unmanageable. Happily I slipped away, and deposited that part of
my conscience in my garret bedroom.
"Hark!" said I, when I had done my stirring, and was taking a final
warm in the chimney corner before being sent up to bed; "was that
great guns, Joe?"
"Ah!" said Joe. "There's another conwict off."
"What does that mean, Joe?" said I.
Mrs. Joe, who always took explanations upon herself, said,
snappishly, "Escaped. Escaped." Administering the definition like
Tar-water.
While Mrs. Joe sat with her head bending over her needlework, I put
my mouth into the forms of saying to Joe, "What's a convict?" Joe
put his mouth into the forms of returning such a highly elaborate
answer, that I could make out nothing of it but the single word
"Pip."
"There was a conwict off last night," said Joe, aloud, "after
sunset-gun. And they fired warning of him. And now it appears
they're firing warning of another."
"Who's firing?" said I.
"Drat that boy," interposed my sister, frowning at me over her
work, "what a questioner he is. Ask no questions, and you'll be
told no lies."
It was not very polite to herself, I thought, to imply that I should
be told lies by her even if I did ask questions. But she never was
polite unless there was company.
At this point Joe greatly augmented my curiosity by taking the
utmost pains to open his mouth very wide, and to put it into the
form of a word that looked to me like "sulks." Therefore, I
naturally pointed to Mrs. Joe, and put my mouth into the form of
saying, "her?" But Joe wouldn't hear of that, at all, and again
opened his mouth very wide, and shook the form of a most emphatic
word out of it. But I could make nothing of the word.
"Mrs. Joe," said I, as a last resort, "I should like to know--if
you wouldn't much mind--where the firing comes from?"
"Lord bless the boy!" exclaimed my sister, as if she didn't quite
mean that but rather the contrary. "From the Hulks!"
"Oh-h!" said I, looking at Joe. "Hulks!"
Joe gave a reproachful cough, as much as to say, "Well, I told you
so."
"And please, what's Hulks?" said I.
"That's the way with this boy!" exclaimed my sister, pointing me
out with her needle and thread, and shaking her head at me. "Answer
him one question, and he'll ask you a dozen directly. Hulks are
prison-ships, right 'cross th' meshes." We always used that name
for marshes, in our country.
"I wonder who's put into prison-ships, and why they're put there?"
said I, in a general way, and with quiet desperation.
It was too much for Mrs. Joe, who immediately rose. "I tell you
what, young fellow," said she, "I didn't bring you up by hand to
badger people's lives out. It would be blame to me and not praise,
if I had. People are put in the Hulks because they murder, and
because they rob, and forge, and do all sorts of bad; and they
always begin by asking questions. Now, you get along to bed!"
I was never allowed a candle to light me to bed, and, as I went
up stairs in the dark, with my head tingling,--from Mrs. Joe's
thimble having played the tambourine upon it, to accompany her last
words,--I felt fearfully sensible of the great convenience that the
hulks were handy for me. I was clearly on my way there. I had begun
by asking questions, and I was going to rob Mrs. Joe.
Since that time, which is far enough away now, I have often thought
that few people know what secrecy there is in the young under
terror. No matter how unreasonable the terror, so that it be
terror. I was in mortal terror of the young man who wanted my heart
and liver; I was in mortal terror of my interlocutor with the
iron leg; I was in mortal terror of myself, from whom an awful
promise had been extracted; I had no hope of deliverance through my
all-powerful sister, who repulsed me at every turn; I am afraid to
think of what I might have done on requirement, in the secrecy of
my terror.
If I slept at all that night, it was only to imagine myself
drifting down the river on a strong spring-tide, to the Hulks; a
ghostly pirate calling out to me through a speaking-trumpet, as I
passed the gibbet-station, that I had better come ashore and be
hanged there at once, and not put it off. I was afraid to sleep,
even if I had been inclined, for I knew that at the first faint
dawn of morning I must rob the pantry. There was no doing it in the
night, for there was no getting a light by easy friction then; to
have got one I must have struck it out of flint and steel, and
have made a noise like the very pirate himself rattling his chains.
As soon as the great black velvet pall outside my little window was
shot with gray, I got up and went down stairs; every board upon the
way, and every crack in every board calling after me, "Stop
thief!" and "Get up, Mrs. Joe!" In the pantry, which was far more
abundantly supplied than usual, owing to the season, I was very
much alarmed by a hare hanging up by the heels, whom I rather
thought I caught when my back was half turned, winking. I had no
time for verification, no time for selection, no time for anything,
for I had no time to spare. I stole some bread, some rind of
cheese, about half a jar of mincemeat (which I tied up in my
pocket-handkerchief with my last night's slice), some brandy from a
stone bottle (which I decanted into a glass bottle I had secretly
used for making that intoxicating fluid, Spanish-liquorice-water,
up in my room: diluting the stone bottle from a jug in the kitchen
cupboard), a meat bone with very little on it, and a beautiful
round compact pork pie. I was nearly going away without the pie,
but I was tempted to mount upon a shelf, to look what it was that
was put away so carefully in a covered earthen ware dish in a
corner, and I found it was the pie, and I took it in the hope that
it was not intended for early use, and would not be missed for some
time.
There was a door in the kitchen, communicating with the forge; I
unlocked and unbolted that door, and got a file from among Joe's
tools. Then I put the fastenings as I had found them, opened the
door at which I had entered when I ran home last night, shut it,
and ran for the misty marshes.