章节正文
throat.
"Have you wired my cousin?" he asked. "E.
Warming, 27, Chancery Lane? "
They were all assiduous to hear. But he had to
repeat it. "What an odd __blurr__ in his accent!"
whispered the red-haired man. "Wire, sir?" said the
young man with the flaxen beard, evidently puzzled.
"He means send an electric telegram," volunteered
the third, a pleasant-faced youth of nineteen or twenty.
The flaxen-bearded man gave a cry of comprehension.
"How stupid of me! You may be sure everything
shall be done, sir," he said to Graham. "I am afraid
it would be difficult to--wire to your cousin. He is
not in London now. But don't trouble about arrangements
yet; you have been asleep a very long time and
the important thing is to get over that, sir." (Graham
concluded the word was sir, but this man pronounced
it "Sire.")
"Oh!" said Graham, and became quiet.
It was all very puzzling, but apparently these people
in unfamiliar dress knew what they were about. Yet
they were odd and the room was odd. It seemed he
was in some newly established place. He had a sudden
flash of suspicion. Surely this wasn't some hall
of public exhibition! If it was he would give Warming
a piece of his mind. But it scarcely had that
character. And in a place of public exhibition he
would not have discovered himself naked.
Then suddenly, quite abruptly, he realised what had
happened. There was no perceptibleinterval of suspicion,
no dawn to his knowledge. Abruptly he
knew that his trance had lasted for a vast interval; as
if by some processes of thought reading he interpreted
the awe in the faces that peered into his. He looked
at them strangely, full of intenseemotion. It seemed
they read his eyes. He framed his lips to speak and
could not. A queer impulse to hide his knowledge
came into his mind almost at the moment of his discovery.
He looked at his bare feet, regarding then
silently. His impulse to speak passed. He was
trembling exceedingly.
They gave him some pink fluid with a greenish
fluorescence and a meaty taste, and the assurance of
returning strength grew.
"That--that makes me feel better," he said
hoarsely, and there were murmurs of respectful
approval. He knew now quite clearly. He made to
speak again, and again he could not.
He pressed his throat and tried a third time.
"How long? " he asked in a level voice. "How long
have I been asleep? "
"Some considerable time," said the flaxen-bearded
man, glancing quickly at the others.
"How long? "
"A very long time."
"Yes--yes," said Graham, suddenly testy. "But
I want-- Is it--it is--some years? Many years?
There was something--I forget what. I feel--
confused. But you--" He sobbed. "You need
not fence with me. How long--?"
He stopped, breathing irregularly. He squeezed
his eyes with his knuckles and sat waiting for an
answer.
They spoke in undertones.
"Five or six?" he asked faintly. "More?"
"Very much more than that."
"Morel "
"More."
He looked at them and it seemed as though imps
were twitching the muscles of his face. He looked
his question.
"Many years," said the man with the red beard.
Graham struggled into a sitting position. He
wiped a rheumy tear from his face with a lean hand.
"Many years!" he repeated. He shut his eyes tight,
opened them, and sat looking about him, from one
unfamiliar thing to another.
"How many years?" he asked.
"You must be prepared to be surprised."
"Well? "
"More than a gross of years."
He was irritated at the strange word." More than
a __what__?"
Two of them spoke together. Some quick remarks
that were made about "decimal" he did not catch.
"How long did you say? " asked Graham. "How
long? Don't look like that. Tell me."
Among the remarks in an undertone, his ear caught
six words: "More than a couple of centuries."
__"Whats?"__ he cried, turning on the youth who he
thought had spoken. "Who says--? What was
that? A couple of centuries!"
"Yes," said the man with the red beard. "Two
hundred years."
Graham repeated the words. He had been prepared
to hear of a vast repose, and yet these concrete
centuries defeated him.
"Two hundred years," he said again, with the figure
of a great gulf opening very slowly in his mind; and
then, "Oh, but--!"
They said nothing.
"You--did you say--? "
"Two hundred years. Two centuries of years,"
said the man with the red beard.
There was a pause. Graham looked at their faces
and saw that what he had heard was indeed true.
"But it can't be," he said querulously. "I am
dreaming. Trances. Trances don't last. That is not
right--this is a joke you have played upon me! Tell
me--some days ago, perhaps, I was walking along
the coast of Cornwall--? "
His voice failed him.
The man with the flaxen beard hesitated. "I'm
not very strong in history, sir," he said weakly, and
glanced at the others.
"That was it, sir," said the youngster. "Boscastle,
in the old Duchy of Cornwall--it's in the southwest
country beyond the dairy meadows. There is a house
there still. I have been there."
"Boscastle!" Graham turned his eyes to the
youngster. "That was it--Boscastle. Little Boscastle.
I fell asleep--somewhere there. I don't
exactly remember. I don't exactly remember."
He pressed his brows and whispered," More than
two hundred years!" I
He began to speak quickly with a twitching face,
but his heart was cold within him. "But if it is two
hundred years, every soul I know, every human being
that ever I saw or spoke to before I went to sleep,
must be dead."
They did not answer him.
"The Queen and the Royal Family, her Ministers,
of Church and State. High and low, rich and poor, one
with another--"
"Is there England still?"
"That's a comfort! Is there London?"
E "This __is__ London, eh? And you are my assistant--
custodian; assistant-custodian. And these--? Eh?
Assistant-custodians to?"
He sat with a gaunt stare on his face. "But why
am I here? No! Don't talk. Be quiet. Let me--"
He sat silent, rubbed his eyes, and, uncovering them,
found another little glass of pinkish fluid held towards
him. He took the dose. It was almost immediately
sustaining. Directly he had taken it he began to weep
naturally and refreshingly.
Presently he looked at their faces, suddenly laughed
through his tears, a little foolishly. "But--two--
hun--dred--years ! " he said. He grimaced hysterically
and covered up his face again.
After a space he grew calm. He sat up, his hands
hanging over his knees in almost precisely the same
attitude in which Isbister had found him on the cliff
at Pentargen. His attention was attracted by a thick
domineering voice, the footsteps of an advancing personage.
"What are you doing? Why was I not
warned? Surely you could tell? Someone will suffer
for this. The man must be kept quiet. Are the
doorways closed? All the doorways? He must be kept
perfectly quiet. He must not be told. Has he been
told anything?"
The man with the fair beard made some inaudible
remark, and Graham looking over his shoulder saw
approaching a very short, fat, and thickset beardless
man, with aquiline nose and heavy neck and chin.
Very thick black and slightly sloping eyebrows that
almost met over his nose and overhung deep grey
eyes, gave his face an oddly formidable expression.
He scowled momentarily at Graham and then his
regard returned to the man with the flaxen beard.
"These others," he said in a voice of extreme
irritation. "You had better go."
"Go? " said the red-bearded man.
"Certainly--go now. But see the doorways are
closed as you go."
The two men addressed turned obediently, after one
reluctant glance at Graham, and instead of going
through the archway as he expected, walked straight
to the dead wall of the apartment opposite the archway.
And then came a strange thing; a long strip
of this apparently solid wall rolled up with a snap,
hung over the two retreating men and fell again, and
immediately Graham was alone with the new comer
and the purple-robed man with the flaxen beard.
For a space the thickset man took not the slightest
notice of Graham, but proceeded to interrogate the
other--obviously his subordinate--upon the treatment
of their charge. He spoke clearly, but in
phrases only partially intelligible to Graham. The
awakening seemed not only a matter of surprise but
of consternation and annoyance to him. He was evidently
profoundly excited.
"You must not confuse his mind by telling him
things," he repeated again and again. "You must not
confuse his mind."
His questions answered, he turned quickly and eyed
the awakened sleeper with an ambiguous expression.
"Feel queer? " he asked.
"Very."
"The world, what you see of it, seems strange to
you? "
"Have you wired my cousin?" he asked. "E.
Warming, 27, Chancery Lane? "
They were all assiduous to hear. But he had to
repeat it. "What an odd __blurr__ in his accent!"
whispered the red-haired man. "Wire, sir?" said the
young man with the flaxen beard, evidently puzzled.
"He means send an electric telegram," volunteered
the third, a pleasant-faced youth of nineteen or twenty.
The flaxen-bearded man gave a cry of comprehension.
"How stupid of me! You may be sure everything
shall be done, sir," he said to Graham. "I am afraid
it would be difficult to--wire to your cousin. He is
not in London now. But don't trouble about arrangements
yet; you have been asleep a very long time and
the important thing is to get over that, sir." (Graham
concluded the word was sir, but this man pronounced
it "Sire.")
"Oh!" said Graham, and became quiet.
It was all very puzzling, but apparently these people
in unfamiliar dress knew what they were about. Yet
they were odd and the room was odd. It seemed he
was in some newly established place. He had a sudden
flash of suspicion. Surely this wasn't some hall
of public exhibition! If it was he would give Warming
a piece of his mind. But it scarcely had that
character. And in a place of public exhibition he
would not have discovered himself naked.
Then suddenly, quite abruptly, he realised what had
happened. There was no perceptibleinterval of suspicion,
no dawn to his knowledge. Abruptly he
knew that his trance had lasted for a vast interval; as
if by some processes of thought reading he interpreted
the awe in the faces that peered into his. He looked
at them strangely, full of intenseemotion. It seemed
they read his eyes. He framed his lips to speak and
could not. A queer impulse to hide his knowledge
came into his mind almost at the moment of his discovery.
He looked at his bare feet, regarding then
silently. His impulse to speak passed. He was
trembling exceedingly.
They gave him some pink fluid with a greenish
fluorescence and a meaty taste, and the assurance of
returning strength grew.
"That--that makes me feel better," he said
hoarsely, and there were murmurs of respectful
approval. He knew now quite clearly. He made to
speak again, and again he could not.
He pressed his throat and tried a third time.
"How long? " he asked in a level voice. "How long
have I been asleep? "
"Some considerable time," said the flaxen-bearded
man, glancing quickly at the others.
"How long? "
"A very long time."
"Yes--yes," said Graham, suddenly testy. "But
I want-- Is it--it is--some years? Many years?
There was something--I forget what. I feel--
confused. But you--" He sobbed. "You need
not fence with me. How long--?"
He stopped, breathing irregularly. He squeezed
his eyes with his knuckles and sat waiting for an
answer.
They spoke in undertones.
"Five or six?" he asked faintly. "More?"
"Very much more than that."
"Morel "
"More."
He looked at them and it seemed as though imps
were twitching the muscles of his face. He looked
his question.
"Many years," said the man with the red beard.
Graham struggled into a sitting position. He
wiped a rheumy tear from his face with a lean hand.
"Many years!" he repeated. He shut his eyes tight,
opened them, and sat looking about him, from one
unfamiliar thing to another.
"How many years?" he asked.
"You must be prepared to be surprised."
"Well? "
"More than a gross of years."
He was irritated at the strange word." More than
a __what__?"
Two of them spoke together. Some quick remarks
that were made about "decimal" he did not catch.
"How long did you say? " asked Graham. "How
long? Don't look like that. Tell me."
Among the remarks in an undertone, his ear caught
six words: "More than a couple of centuries."
__"Whats?"__ he cried, turning on the youth who he
thought had spoken. "Who says--? What was
that? A couple of centuries!"
"Yes," said the man with the red beard. "Two
hundred years."
Graham repeated the words. He had been prepared
to hear of a vast repose, and yet these concrete
centuries defeated him.
"Two hundred years," he said again, with the figure
of a great gulf opening very slowly in his mind; and
then, "Oh, but--!"
They said nothing.
"You--did you say--? "
"Two hundred years. Two centuries of years,"
said the man with the red beard.
There was a pause. Graham looked at their faces
and saw that what he had heard was indeed true.
"But it can't be," he said querulously. "I am
dreaming. Trances. Trances don't last. That is not
right--this is a joke you have played upon me! Tell
me--some days ago, perhaps, I was walking along
the coast of Cornwall--? "
His voice failed him.
The man with the flaxen beard hesitated. "I'm
not very strong in history, sir," he said weakly, and
glanced at the others.
"That was it, sir," said the youngster. "Boscastle,
in the old Duchy of Cornwall--it's in the southwest
country beyond the dairy meadows. There is a house
there still. I have been there."
"Boscastle!" Graham turned his eyes to the
youngster. "That was it--Boscastle. Little Boscastle.
I fell asleep--somewhere there. I don't
exactly remember. I don't exactly remember."
He pressed his brows and whispered," More than
two hundred years!" I
He began to speak quickly with a twitching face,
but his heart was cold within him. "But if it is two
hundred years, every soul I know, every human being
that ever I saw or spoke to before I went to sleep,
must be dead."
They did not answer him.
"The Queen and the Royal Family, her Ministers,
of Church and State. High and low, rich and poor, one
with another--"
"Is there England still?"
"That's a comfort! Is there London?"
E "This __is__ London, eh? And you are my assistant--
custodian; assistant-custodian. And these--? Eh?
Assistant-custodians to?"
He sat with a gaunt stare on his face. "But why
am I here? No! Don't talk. Be quiet. Let me--"
He sat silent, rubbed his eyes, and, uncovering them,
found another little glass of pinkish fluid held towards
him. He took the dose. It was almost immediately
sustaining. Directly he had taken it he began to weep
naturally and refreshingly.
Presently he looked at their faces, suddenly laughed
through his tears, a little foolishly. "But--two--
hun--dred--years ! " he said. He grimaced hysterically
and covered up his face again.
After a space he grew calm. He sat up, his hands
hanging over his knees in almost precisely the same
attitude in which Isbister had found him on the cliff
at Pentargen. His attention was attracted by a thick
domineering voice, the footsteps of an advancing personage.
"What are you doing? Why was I not
warned? Surely you could tell? Someone will suffer
for this. The man must be kept quiet. Are the
doorways closed? All the doorways? He must be kept
perfectly quiet. He must not be told. Has he been
told anything?"
The man with the fair beard made some inaudible
remark, and Graham looking over his shoulder saw
approaching a very short, fat, and thickset beardless
man, with aquiline nose and heavy neck and chin.
Very thick black and slightly sloping eyebrows that
almost met over his nose and overhung deep grey
eyes, gave his face an oddly formidable expression.
He scowled momentarily at Graham and then his
regard returned to the man with the flaxen beard.
"These others," he said in a voice of extreme
irritation. "You had better go."
"Go? " said the red-bearded man.
"Certainly--go now. But see the doorways are
closed as you go."
The two men addressed turned obediently, after one
reluctant glance at Graham, and instead of going
through the archway as he expected, walked straight
to the dead wall of the apartment opposite the archway.
And then came a strange thing; a long strip
of this apparently solid wall rolled up with a snap,
hung over the two retreating men and fell again, and
immediately Graham was alone with the new comer
and the purple-robed man with the flaxen beard.
For a space the thickset man took not the slightest
notice of Graham, but proceeded to interrogate the
other--obviously his subordinate--upon the treatment
of their charge. He spoke clearly, but in
phrases only partially intelligible to Graham. The
awakening seemed not only a matter of surprise but
of consternation and annoyance to him. He was evidently
profoundly excited.
"You must not confuse his mind by telling him
things," he repeated again and again. "You must not
confuse his mind."
His questions answered, he turned quickly and eyed
the awakened sleeper with an ambiguous expression.
"Feel queer? " he asked.
"Very."
"The world, what you see of it, seems strange to
you? "
- evidently [´evidəntli]
ad.明显地 (初中英语单词) - stupid [´stju:pid] a.愚蠢的；糊涂的 (初中英语单词)
- suspicion [sə´spiʃən] n.怀(猜)疑；嫌疑 (初中英语单词)
- abruptly [ə´brʌptli] ad.突然地；粗鲁地 (初中英语单词)
- interval [´intəvəl] n.间隙；(工间)休息 (初中英语单词)
- reading [´ri:diŋ] n.(阅)读；朗读；读物 (初中英语单词)
- strangely [´streindʒli] ad.奇怪地；陌生地 (初中英语单词)
- emotion [i´məuʃən] n.感情；情绪；激动 (初中英语单词)
- impulse [´impʌls] n.推动(力)；冲动；刺激 (初中英语单词)
- throat [θrəut] n.咽喉；嗓子；出入口 (初中英语单词)
- considerable [kən´sidərəbəl] a.重要的；值得重视 (初中英语单词)
- waiting [´weitiŋ] n.等候；伺候 (初中英语单词)
- spoken [´spəukən] speak的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- opening [´əupəniŋ] n.开放；开端 a.开始的 (初中英语单词)
- youngster [´jʌŋstə] n.年轻人；小伙子；少年 (初中英语单词)
- slightly [´slaitli] ad.轻微地；细长的 (初中英语单词)
- apartment [ə´pɑ:tmənt] n.一套房间 (初中英语单词)
- charge [tʃɑ:dʒ] v.收费；冲锋 n.费用 (初中英语单词)
- confuse [kən´fju:z] vt.使混乱；混淆；慌乱 (初中英语单词)
- apparently [ə´pærəntli] ad.显然，表面上地 (高中英语单词)
- exhibition [eksi´biʃ(ə)n] n.展览；显示；表演 (高中英语单词)
- intense [in´tens] a.强烈的；紧张的 (高中英语单词)
- regarding [ri´gɑ:diŋ] prep.关于 (高中英语单词)
- assurance [ə´ʃuərəns] n.保证；自信；信任 (高中英语单词)
- faintly [´feintli] ad.微弱地，软弱无力的 (高中英语单词)
- repeated [ri´pi:tid] a.反复的；重复的 (高中英语单词)
- repose [ri´pəuz] v.&n.(使)休息；安息 (高中英语单词)
- precisely [pri´saisli] ad.精确地；刻板地 (高中英语单词)
- formidable [´fɔ:midəbəl] a.可怕的；艰难的 (高中英语单词)
- graham [´greiəm] a.&n.用全麦粉做的 (英语四级单词)
- partially [´pɑ:ʃəli] ad.部分地；局部地 (英语四级单词)
- annoyance [ə´nɔiəns] n.烦恼事(人) (英语四级单词)
- unfamiliar [ʌnfə´miljə] a.不熟悉的；生疏的 (英语六级单词)
- perceptible [pə´septəbl] a.看得出的；可理解的 (英语六级单词)
- trance [trɑ:ns] n.恍惚；出神 (英语六级单词)
- foolishly [´fu:liʃli] ad.愚蠢地 (英语六级单词)
- consternation [,kɔnstə´neiʃən] n.惊愕；惊恐；惊慌失措 (英语六级单词)
- sleeper [´sli:pə] n.睡眠者；(铁路)枕木 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
京公网安备 11011202003401号
