The Old Curiosity Shop / Лавка древностей

14

The child trembled with a mingled sensation of hope and fear. The town was glad with morning light; the flowers that sleep by night, opened their gentle eyes and turned them to the day. The two pilgrims, often pressing each other’s hands, or exchanging a smile or cheerful look, pursued their way in silence. They came upon a straggling neighbourhood. At length the streets becoming more straggling yet, dwindled and dwindled away, until there were only small garden patches bordering the road. Then came some houses, one by one, of goodly size with lawns, some even with a lodge where dwelt a porter and his wife. Then, came a turnpike; then fields again with trees and haystacks; then, a hill. In a pleasant field, the old man and his little guide sat down to rest. Here they made their frugal breakfast.

“Dear grandfather,” said Nelly, “this place is very pretty, and I feel as if laid down on this grass all the cares and troubles we brought with us; never to take them up again.”

“No never to return, never to return” replied the old man, waving his hand towards the city. “You and I are free of it now, Nell.”

“Are you tired?” said the child, “are you sure you don’t feel ill from this long walk?”

“I shall never feel ill again, now that we are once away,” was his reply. “Let us go, Nell. We must be further away a long, long way further. We are too near to stop^[35], and be at rest. Come!”

There was a pool of clear water in the field, in which the child laved her hands and face, and cooled her feet. She refreshed the old man too, cast the water on him with her hands, and dried it with her simple dress.

“I can do nothing for myself, my darling,” said the grandfather; “I don’t know how it is, I could once, but the time’s gone. Don’t leave me, Nell; say that you’ll not leave me. I love you, indeed I do. If I lose you, my dear, I must die!”

He laid his head upon her shoulder and moaned piteously. She soothed him with gentle and tender words. He was soon calmed and fell asleep, singing to himself in a low voice, like a little child.

He awoke refreshed, and they continued their journey. The road was pleasant, lying between beautiful pastures and fields of corn. They were now in the open country; the houses were very few and scattered at long intervals, often miles apart.

15

The sun was setting when they reached the wicket-gate^[36] at which the path began. The church was old and grey, with ivy clinging to the walls, and round the porch. The old man and the child passed behind the church, and they heard voices near.

Two men were seated upon the grass. It was not difficult to divine that they were showmen exhibitors^[37] of the freaks of Punch^[38]. Upon a tombstone behind them, was a figure of that hero himself.

The men raised their eyes when the old man and his young companion were close upon them, and pausing in their work, returned their looks of curiosity. One of them was a little merry-faced man with a twinkling eye and a red nose. The other that was he who took the money had rather a careful and cautious look.

The merry man was the first to greet the strangers with a nod. He observed that perhaps that was the first time the old man had ever seen a Punch off the stage^[39].

“Why did you come here?” said the old man, sitting down beside them, and looking at the figures with extreme delight.

“You see,” rejoined the little man, “we need to repair our puppets.”

“Good!” said the old man, touching one of the puppets, and drawing away his hand with a shrill laugh. “Are you going to show them tonight? Are you?”

“That is the intention, sir,” replied the other, “and Tommy Codlin^[40] is calculating at this minute how much we’re going to get tonight.”

The little man accompanied these latter words with a wink.

To this Mr. Codlin, who had a surly, grumbling manner, replied: “Look here; here’s all this Judy’s^[41] clothes falling to pieces again. You haven’t got a needle and thread I suppose?”

The little man shook his head. Seeing that they were at a loss, the child said timidly: “I have a needle, sir, in my basket, and thread too. Will you let me try to mend it for you? I think I could do it neater than you could.”

Mr. Codlin had nothing to urge against this proposal. Nelly, kneeling down beside the box, was soon busily engaged in her task. The merry little man looked at her with an interest. When she had finished her work he thanked her, and inquired where they were travelling.

“No further tonight, I think,” said the child, looking towards her grandfather.

“If you’re looking for a place to stop at,” the man remarked, “I can advise you to take up^[42] at the same house with us. That’s it. The long, low, white house there. It’s very cheap.”

They all rose and walked away together. The old man was keeping close to the box of puppets in which he was quite absorbed.

The public-house was kept by a fat old landlord and landlady who made no objection to receiving their new guests, but praised Nelly’s beauty. The landlady was very much astonished to learn that they had come all the way from London.

“These two gentlemen have ordered supper in an hour’s time,” she said, taking her into the bar; “and your best plan will be to sup with them.”

The Punch and Judy performance was applauded to the echo, and voluntary contributions showed the general delight. Among the laughter none was more loud and frequent than the old man’s. Nell’s was unheard, for she, poor child, with her head drooping on his shoulder, had fallen asleep.

The supper was very good, but she was too tired to eat, and yet did not want to leave the old man until she had kissed him in his bed. It was but a loft partitioned into two compartments, where they were to rest, but they were well pleased with their lodging and had hoped for none so good^[43]. The old man was uneasy when he had lain down, and begged that Nell would come and sit at his bedside as she had done for so many nights. She hastened to him, and sat there till he slept.

She had a little money, but it was very little, and when that was gone, they must begin to beg. There was one piece of gold among it, and it would be best to hide this coin. She sewed the piece of gold into her dress^[44], and went to bed with a lighter heart.

16

Another bright day awoke her. The old man woke up and dressed. They all sat down to eat together.

“And where are you going today?” said the little man.

“Indeed I hardly know, we have not determined yet,” replied the child.

“We’re going on to the races,” said the little man. “If that’s your way and you like to have us for company, let us travel together.”

“We’ll go with you,” said the old man. “Nell, with them, with them.”

The real name of the little man was Harris^[45], but everybody called him Trotters^[46], which, with the prefatory adjective, Short, showed the small size of his legs. So Short Trotters^[47] was used in formal conversations and on occasions of ceremony^[48].

The breakfast was over, and Mr. Codlin called the bill. They took farewell of the landlord and landlady and resumed their journey.

Mr. Codlin trudged heavily on^[49], exchanging a word or two at intervals with Short, and stopping to rest and growl occasionally. Short led the way; with the box, the private luggage tied up in a bundle, and a brazen trumpet. Nell and her grandfather walked next him, and Thomas Codlin brought up the rear.

When they came to any town or village, or even to a house of good appearance, Short blew a blast upon the brazen trumpet. If people hurried to the windows, Mr. Codlin hastily unfurled the drapery and concealed Short therewith. Then the entertainment began as soon as might be. After that they resumed their load and on they went again. They were generally well received, and seldom left a town without a troop of children shouting at their heels^[50].

17

The Jolly Sandboys^[51] was a small roadside inn^[52] of pretty ancient date. The travellers arrived, drenched with the rain and presenting a most miserable appearance. The landlord rushed into the kitchen and took the cover off^[53]. The effect was magical. They all came in with smiling faces though the wet was dripping from their clothes upon the floor, and Short’s first remark was, “What a delicious smell!”

It is not very difficult to forget rain and mud by the side of a cheerful fire, and in a bright room. They were given slippers and dry garments. Nelly and the old man sat by the fire and fell asleep.

“Who are they?” whispered the landlord.

Short shook his head.

“Don’t you know?” asked the host, turning to Mr. Codlin.

“Not I,” he replied. “They’re no good, I suppose.”

“They’re no harm,” said Short. “And I tell you: the old man isn’t in his right mind^[54]. They’re not used to this way of life. Don’t tell me that that handsome child has been in the habit of prowling about^[55].”

“Well, who does tell you she has?” growled Mr. Codlin.

“Hear me out, the old man ran away from his relatives and took this delicate young creature to be his guide and companion. Now I’m not a going to stand that^[56].”

“You’re not a going to stand that!” cried Mr. Codlin, pulling his hair with both hands.

“I,” repeated Short emphatically and slowly, “am not a going to stand it. I am not a going to see this fair young child in an inappropriate company. Therefore I shall take measures for detaining of them, and restoring them to their relatives.”

“Short,” said Mr. Codlin, “it’s possible that there may be good sense in what you’ve said. If there is, and there can be a reward, Short, remember that we’re partners in everything!”

His companion nodded, and the child awoke at the instant.

18

The next day, after bidding the old man good-night, Nell retired to her poor garret, but had scarcely closed the door, when it gently opened. She was a little startled by the sight of Mr. Thomas Codlin, whom she had left down-stairs.

“What is the matter?” said the child.

“Nothing’s the matter, my dear,” returned her visitor. “I’m your friend. Perhaps you haven’t thought so, but it’s me that’s your friend not him.”

“Not who?” the child inquired.

“Short, my dear. I tell you what,” said Codlin, “You see, I’m the real, openhearted man. I don’t look it, but I am indeed. Short’s very well, and seems kind, but he overdoes it^[57]. Now I don’t.”

The child was puzzled, and did not know not tell what to say.

“Take my advice,” said Codlin: “don’t ask me why, but take it. As long as you travel with us, keep as near me as you can. Don’t offer to leave us but always stick to me and say that I’m your friend. Will you bear that in mind, my dear, and always say that it was me that was your friend?”

“Say so where, and when?” inquired the child innocently.

“O, nowhere in particular,” replied Codlin; “I’m only worried about you. Why didn’t you tell me your little history about you and the poor old gentleman? I’m the best adviser that ever was, and so interested in you—so much more interested than Short. And you needn’t tell Short, you know, that we’ve had this little talk together. God bless you. Recollect the friend. Codlin’s the friend, not Short. Your real friend is Codlin, not Short.”

Thomas Codlin stole away on tip-toe^[58], leaving the child in a state of extreme surprise. And suddenly somebody knocked at hers.

“Yes,” said the child.

“It’s me, Short” a voice called through the key-hole. “I only wanted to say that we must be off early tomorrow morning, my dear. Will you go with us? I’ll call you.”

The child answered “Yes”. She felt some uneasiness at the anxiety of these men.

19

Very early next morning, Short fulfilled his promise, and knocked softly at her door. Nell started from her bed without delay, and roused the old man.

It was dark before they reached the town. Here all was tumult and confusion; the streets were filled with throngs of people. At length they passed through the town and made for the race-course^[59], which was upon an open heath. They saw a big tent.

After a scanty supper, Nell and the old man lay down to rest in a corner of a tent, and slept, despite the busy preparations that were going on around them all night long.

And now they had come to the time when they must beg their bread. Soon after sunrise in the morning the child, while the two men lay dozing in another corner, plucked grandfather by the sleeve, and slightly glancing towards them, said, in a low voice

“Grandfather, these men suspect that we have secretly left our relatives, and I think, they want to sent us back. We must get away from them.”

“How?” muttered the old man. “Dear Nelly, how? They will easily catch me, and never let me see you anymore!”

“You’re trembling,” said the child. “Keep close to me all day. Never mind them, don’t look at them, but me. I shall find a time when we can go away. When I do, come with me, and do not stop or speak a word. Hush! That’s all.”

“Halloa! what are you doing, my dear?” said Mr. Codlin, raising his head, and yawning. Then observing that his companion was asleep, he added in an earnest whisper, “Codlin’s the friend, remember not Short.”

Late in the day, Mr. Codlin pitched the show in a convenient spot, and the spectators were soon in the very triumph of the scene. That was the very moment. They seized it, and fled.

They made a path through booths and carriages and throngs of people, and never once stopped to look behind. They made for the open fields.