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A Rogue's Life-Part16_WILKIE COLLINS (1824-1899)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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distance of Barkingham. Last, and not least important, Miss Giles



sounded in my ears exactly like an assumed name.

Was there ever any woman absolutely and literally named Miss



Giles? However I may have altered my opinion on this point since,

my mind was not in a condition at that time to admit the possible



existence of any such individual as a maiden Giles. Before,

therefore, I had put the precious blotting-paper into my pocket,



I had satisfied myself that my first duty, under all the

circumstances, was to shape my flight immediately to Crickgelly.



I could be certain of nothing--not even of identifying the

doctor's handwriting by the impression on the blotting-paper. But



provided I kept clear of Barkingham, it was all the same to me

what part of the United Kingdom I went to; and, in the absence of



any actual clew to her place of residence, there was consolation

and encouragement even in following an imaginary trace. My



spirits rose to their natural height as I struck into the

highroad again, and beheld across the level plain the smoke,



chimneys, and church spires of a large manufacturing town. There

I saw the welcome promise of a coach--the happy chance of making



my journey to Crickgelly easy and rapid from the very outset.

On my way to the town, I was reminded by the staring of all the



people I passed on the road, of one important consideration which

I had hitherto most unaccountably overlooked--the necessity of



making some radical change in my personal appearance.

I had no cause to dread the Bow Street runners, for not one of



them had seen me; but I had the strongest possible reasons for

distrusting a meeting with my enemy, Screw. He would certainly be



made use of by the officers for the purpose of identifying the

companions whom he had betrayed; and I had the best reasons in



the world to believe that he would rather assist in the taking of

me than in the capture of all the rest of the coining gang put



together--the doctor himself not excepted. My present costume was

of the dandy sort--rather shabby, but gay in color and outrageous



in cut. I had not altered it for an artisan's suit in the

doctor's house, because I never had any intention of staying



there a day longer than I could possibly help. The apron in which

I had wrapped the writing-desk was the only approach I had made



toward wearing the honorable uniform of the workingman.

Would it be wise now to make my transformation complete, by



adding to the apron a velveteen jacket and a sealskin cap? No: my

hands were too white, my manners too inveterately gentleman-like,



for all artisandisguise. It would be safer to assume a serious

character--to shave off my whiskers, crop my hair, buy a modest



hat and umbrella, and dress entirely in black. At the first

slopshop I encountered in the suburbs of the town, I got a



carpet-bag and a clerical-looking suit. At the first easy

shaving-shop I passed, I had my hair cropped and my whiskers



taken off. After that I retreated again to the country--walked

back till I found a convenient hedge down a lane off the



highroad--changed my upper garments behind it, and emerged,

bashful, black, and reverend, with my cotton umbrella tucked



modestly under my arm, my eyes on the ground, my head in the air,

and my hat off my forehead. When I found two laborers touching



their caps to me on my way back to the town, I knew that it was

all right, and that I might now set the vindictive eyes of Screw



himself safely at defiance.

I had not the most distant notion where I was when I reached the



High Street, and stopped at The Green Bull Hotel and

Coach-office. However, I managed to mention my modest wishes to



be conveyed at once in the direction of Wales, with no more than

a becoming confusion of manner.



The answer was not so encouraging as I could have wished. The

coach to Shrewsbury had left an hour before, and there would be



no other public conveyancerunning in my direct ion until the

next morning. Finding myself thus obliged to yield to adverse



circumstances, I submitted resignedly, and booked a place outside

by the next day's coach, in the name of the Reverend John Jones.



I thought it desirable to be at once unassuming and Welsh in the

selection of a traveling name; and therefore considered John



Jones calculated to fit me, in my present emergency, to a hair.




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