雙城記 Book1-2d The Mail
The watchful guard, with his right hand at the stock of hisraised blunderbuss, his left at the barrel, and his eye On thehorseman, answered curtly, `Sir.'
`There is nothing to apprehend. I belong to Tellson's Bank.
You must know Tellson's Bank in London. I am going to Paris onbusiness. A crown to drink. I may read this?'
`If so be as you're quick, sir.'
He opened it in the light of the coach-lamp on that side, andread--first to himself and then aloud: `"Wait at Door forMam'selle." It's not long, you see, guard. Jerry, say that myanswer was, RECALLED TO LIFE.'
Jerry started in his saddle. `That`s a Blazing strangeanswer, too,' said he, at his hoarsest.
`Take that message back, and they will know that I receivedthis, as well as if I wrote. Make the best of your way. Goodnight.'
With those words the passenger opened tile coach-door and gotin; not at all assisted by his fellow-passengers, who hadexpeditiously secreted their watches and purses in theirboots, and were now making a general pretence of being asleep.
With no more definite purpose than to escape the hazard oforiginating any other kind of action.
The coach lumbered on again, with heavier wreaths of mistclosing round it as it began the descent. The guard soonreplaced his blunderbuss in his arm-chest, and, having lookedto the rest of its contents, and having looked to thesupplementary pistols that he wore in his belt, looked to asmaller chest beneath his seat, in which there were a fewsmith's tools, a couple of torches, and a tinder-box. For hewas furnished with that completeness that if the coach-lampshad been blown and stormed out, which did occasionally happen,he had only to shut himself up inside, keep the flint andsteel sparks well off the straw, and get a light withtolerable safety and ease (if he were lucky) in five minutes.
`Tom!' softly over the coach-roof.
`Hallo, Joe.'
`Did you hear the message?'
`I did, Joe.'
`What did you make of it, Tom?'
`Nothing at all, Joe.'
`That's a coincidence, too,' the guard mused, `for I made thesame of it myself Jerry, left alone in the mist and darkness,dismounted meanwhile, not only to ease his spent horse, but towipe the mud from his face, and shake the wet out of his hat-brim, which might be capable of holding about half a gallon.
After standing with the bridle over his heavily-splashed arm,until the wheels of the mail were no longer within hearing andthe night was quite still again, he turned to walk down thehill.
`After that there gallop from Temple Bar, old lady, I won'ttrust your fore-legs till I get you on the level,' said thishoarse messenger, glancing at his mare. `"Recalled to life."That's a Blazing strange message. Much of that wouldn't do foryou Jerry! I say, Jerry! You'd be in a Blazing bad way, if recalling to life was to come into fashion, Jerry!'
