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The Black Dwarf-Part13_WALTER SCOTT(1771-1832)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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Dwarf was first seen, and from the conduct of that mysterious

being ever since, he was likely to be rendered even more



obstinate in his sullenness by threats and violence.

"I'll speak him fair," he said, "as auld Dickon advised me.



Though folk say he has a league wi' Satan, he canna be sic an

incarnate devil as no to take some pity in a case like mine; and



folk threep he'll whiles do good, charitable sort o' things.

I'll keep my heart doun as weel as I can, and stroke him wi' the



hair; and if the warst come to the warst, it's but wringing the

head o' him about at last."



In this disposition of accommodation he approached the hut of the

Solitary.



The old man was not upon his seat of audience, nor could Hobbie

perceive him in his garden, or enclosures.



"He's gotten into his very keep," said Hobbie, "maybe to be out

o' the gate; but I'se pu' it doun about his lugs, if I canna win



at him otherwise."

Having thus communed with himself, he raised his voice, and



invoked Elshie in a tone as supplicating as his conflicting

feelings would permit. "Elshie, my gude friend!" No reply.



"Elshie, canny Father Elshie!" The Dwarf remained mute. "Sorrow

be in the crookedcarcass of thee!" said the Borderer between



his teeth; and then again attempting a soothing tone,--"Good

Father Elshie, a most miserable creature desires some counsel of



your wisdom."

"The better!" answered the shrill and discordant voice of the



Dwarf through a very small window, resembling an arrow slit,

which he had constructed near the door of his dwelling, and



through which he could see any one who approached it, without the

possibility of their looking in upon him.



"The better!" said Hobbie impatiently; "what is the better,

Elshie? Do you not hear me tell you I am the most miserable



wretch living?"

"And do you not hear me tell you it is so much the better! and



did I not tell you this morning, when you thought yourself so

happy, what an evening was coming upon you?"



"That ye did e'en," replied Hobbie, "and that gars me come to you

for advice now; they that foresaw the trouble maun ken the cure."



"I know no cure for earthly trouble," returned the Dwarf "or, if

I did, why should I help others, when none hath aided me? Have I



not lost wealth, that would have bought all thy barren hills a

hundred times over? rank, to which thine is as that of a



peasant? society, where there was an interchange of all that was

amiable--of all that was intellectual? Have I not lost all this?



Am I not residing here, the veriest outcast on the face of

Nature, in the most hideous and most solitary of her retreats,



myself more hideous than all that is around me? And why should

other worms complain to me when they are trodden on, since I am



myself lying crushed and writhing under the chariot-wheel?"

"Ye may have lost all this," answered Hobbie, in the bitterness



of emotion; "land and friends, goods and gear; ye may hae lost

them a',--but ye ne'er can hae sae sair a heart as mine, for ye



ne'er lost nae Grace Armstrong. And now my last hopes are gane,

and I shall ne'er see her mair."



This he said in the tone of deepest emotion--and there followed a

long pause, for the mention of his bride's name had overcome the



more angry and irritable feelings of poor Hobbie. Ere he had

again addressed the Solitary, the bony hand and long fingers of



the latter, holding a large leathern bag, was thrust forth at the

small window, and as it unclutched the burden, and let it drop



with a clang upon the ground, his harsh voice again addressed

Elliot.



"There--there lies a salve for every human ill; so, at least,

each human wretchreadily thinks.--Begone; return twice as



wealthy as thou wert before yesterday, and torment me no more

with questions, complaints, or thanks; they are alike odious to



me."

"It is a' gowd, by Heaven!" said Elliot, having glanced at the



contents; and then again addressing the Hermit, "Muckle obliged

for your goodwill; and I wad blithely gie you a bond for some o'



the siller, or a wadset ower the lands o' Wideopen. But I dinna

ken, Elshie; to be free wi' you, I dinna like to use siller



unless I kend it was decently come by; and maybe it might turn

into sclate-stanes, and cheat some poor man."



"Ignorant idiot!" retorted the Dwarf; "the trash is as genuine

poison as ever was dug out of the bowels of the earth. Take it






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