章节正文
told everybody in the office."
"How could I, ma'am?"
"How could you?" She looked up, the tears on her flabby,
flushed cheek.
"I didn't know myself. I can't read writing--"
It was thin, but she wanted to believe it.
She could have taken me in her arms, she was so happy.
"There! there!" she patted my shoulder and gave me a dollar
bill. "I was a bit hasty, Nat. It's only a--a little business
matter that Mr. Moriway's attending to for me. We--we'll finish
it up this afternoon. I shouldn't like Miss Kingdon to know of
it, because--because I--never like to worry her about business,
you know. So don't mention it when she comes to-morrow."
"No'm. Shall I fasten your dress?" I simply had to stay in that
room till I could get rid of those diamonds.
With a faded old blush--the nicest thing about her I'd ever
seen--she turned her back.
"It's dark to-day, ma'am," I coaxed. "Would you mind coming
nearer the window?"
No, she wouldn't mind. She backed up to the corner like a gentle
little lamb. While I hooked with one hand, I dropped the little
bag where the carpet was still turned up, and with the toe of my
shoe spread it flat again.
"You're real handy for a boy," she said, pleased.
"Thank you, ma'am," I answered, pleased myself.
Moriway was still watching me, of course, when I came out, but I
ran downstairs, he following close, and when the Major got hold
of me, I pulled my pockets inside out like a little man.
Moriway was there at the time. I knew he wasn't convinced. But he
couldn't watch a bell-boy all day long, and the moment I was sure
his eyes were off me I was ready to get those diamonds back
again.
But not a call came all that afternoon from the west side of the
house, except the call of those pretty, precious things snug
under the carpetcalling, calling to me to come and get them and
drop bell-boying for good.
At last I couldn't stand it any longer. There's only one thing to
do when your chance won't come to you; that is, to go to it. At
about four o'clock I lit out, climbed to the second story and
there--Mag, I always was the luckiest girl at the Cruelty, wasn't
I? Well, there was suite 231 all torn up, plumbers and painters
in there, and nothing in the world to prevent a boy's skinning
through when no one was watching, out of the window and up the
fire-escape.
Just outside of Mrs. Kingdon's window I lay still a minute. I had
seen her and Moriway go out together--she all gay with finery, he
carrying her bag. The lace curtains in 331 were blowing in the
breeze. Cautiously I parted them and looked in. Everything was
lovely. From where I lay I reached down and turned back the flap
of the carpet. It was too easy. Those darling diamonds seemed
just to leap up into my hand. In a moment I had them tucked away
in my pants pocket. Then down the fire-escape and out through
231, where I told the painter I'd been to get a toy the boy in
441 had dropped out of the window.
But he paid no attention to me. No one did, though I felt those
diamonds shining like an X-ray through my very body. I got
downstairs and was actually outside the door, almost in the
street and off to you, when a girl called me.
"Here, boy, carry this case," she said.
Do you know who it was? Oh, yes, you do, a dear old friend of
mine from Philadelphia, a young lady whose taste--well, all
right, I'll tell you: it was the girl with the red coat, and the
hat with the chinchilla fur.
How did they look? Oh, fairly well on a blonde! But to my taste
the last girl I'd seen in the coat and hat was handsomer.
Well, I carried her suit-case and followed her back into the
hotel. I didn't want to a bit, though that coat still--wonder how
she got it back!
She sailed up the hall and into the elevator, and I had to
follow. We got of at the third story, and she brought me right to
the door of 331. And then I knew this must be Evelyn.
"Mrs. Kingdon's out, Miss. She didn't expect you till
to-morrow."
"Did she tell you that? Too bad she isn't at home! She said
she'd be kept busy all day to-day with a business matter, and
that I'd better not get here till to-morrow. But I--"
"Wanted to get here in time for the wedding?" I suggested softly.
You should have seen her jump.
"Wedding! Not--"
"Mrs. Kingdon and Mr. Moriway."
She turned white.
"Has that man followed her here? Quick, tell me. Has she
actually married him?"
"No--not yet. It's for five o'clock at the church on the
corner."
"How do you know?" She turned on me, suddenly suspicious.
"Well--I do know. And I'm the only person in the house that
does."
"I don't believe you."
She took out her key and opened the door, and I followed her in
with the suit-case. But before I could get it set down on the
floor, she had swooped on a letter that was lying in the middle
of the table, had torn it open, and then with a cry had come
whirling toward me.
"Where is this church? Come, help me to get to it before five
and I'll--oh, you shall have anything in the world you want!"
She flew out into the hall, I after her. And first thing you know
we were down in the street, around the corner, and there in front
of the church was a carriage with Moriway just helping Mrs.
Kingdon out.
"Mother!"
At that cry the old lady's knees seemed to crumble under her. Her
poor old painted face looked out ghastly and ashamed from her
wedding finery. But Evelyn in her red coat flew to her and took
her in her arms as though she was a child. And like a child, Mrs.
Kingdon sobbed and made excuses and begged to be forgiven.
I looked at Moriway. It was all the pay I wanted--particularly as
I had those little diamonds.
"You're just in time, Miss Kingdon," he said uneasily, "to
make your mother happy by your presence at her wedding."
"I'm just in time, Mr. Moriway, to see that my mother's not made
unhappy by your presence."
"Evelyn!" Mrs. Kingdon remonstrated.
"Come, Sarah." Moriway offered his arm.
The bride shook her head.
"To-morrow," she said feebly.
Moriway breathed a swear.
Miss Kingdon laughed.
"I've come to take care of you, you silly little mother, dear
. . . . It won't be to-morrow, Mr. Moriway."
"No--not to-morrow--next week," sighed Mrs. Kingdon.
"In fact, mother's changed her mind, Mr. Moriway. She thinks it
ungenerous to accept such a sacrifice from a man who might be her
son--don't you, mother?"
"Well, perhaps, George--" She looked up from her daughter's
shoulder--she was crying all over that precious red coat of
mine--and her eyes lit on me. "Oh--you wicked boy, you told a
lie!" she gasped. "You did read my letter."
I laughed; laughed out loud, it was such a bully thing to watch
Moriway's face.
But that was an unlucky laugh of mine; it turned his wrath on me.
He made a dive toward me. I ducked and ran. Oh, how I ran! But if
he hadn't slipped on the curb he'd have had me. As he fell,
though, he let out a yell.
"Stop thief! stop thief! Thief! Thief! Thief!"
May you never hear it, Mag, behind you when you've somebody
else's diamonds in your pocket. It sounds--it sounds the way the
bay of the hounds must sound to the hare. It seems to fly along
with the air; at the same time to be behind you, at your side,
even in front of you.
I heard it bellowed in a dozen different voices, and every now
and then I could hear Moriway as I pelted on--that brassy, cruel
bellow of his that made my heart sick.
And then all at once I heard a policeman's whistle.
That whistle was like a signal--I saw the gates of the Correction
open before me. I saw your Nance, Tom, in a neat striped dress,
and she was behind bars--bars--bars! There were bars everywhere
before me. In fact, I felt them against my very hands, for in my
mad race I had shot up a blind alley--a street that ended in a
garden behind an iron fence.
I grabbed the diamonds to throw them from me, but I couldn't--I
just couldn't! I jumped the fence where the gate was low, and
with that whistle flying shrill and shriller after me I ran to
the house.
I might have jumped from the frying-pan? Of course, I might. But
it was all fire to me. To be caught at the end is at least no
worse than to be caught at the beginning. Anyhow, it was my one
chance, and I took it as unhesitatingly as a rat takes a leap
into a trap to escape a terrier. Only--only, it was my luck that
the trap wasn't set! The room was empty. I pushed open a glass
door, and fell over an open trunk that stood beside it.
It bruised my knee and tore my hand, but oh!--it was nuts to me.
For it was a woman's trunk filled with women's things.
A skirt! A blessed skirt! And not a striped one. I threw off the
bell-boy's jacket and I got into that dear dress so quick it made
my head swim.
The jacket was a bit tight but I didn't button it, and I'd just
got a stiff little hat perched on my head when I heard the tramp
of men on the sidewalk, and in the dusk saw the cop's buttons at
the gate.
Caught? Not much. Not yet. I threw open the glass doors and
walked out into the garden.
"Miss--Omar--I wonder if it would be Miss Omar?"
You bet I didn't take time to see who it was talking before I
answered. Of course I was Miss Omar. I was Miss Anybody that had
a right to wear skirts and be inside those blessed gates.
"Ah--h! I fancied you might be. I've been expecting you."
It was a lazy, low voice with a laugh in it, and it came from a
wheeled chair, where a young man lay. Sallow he was and slim and
long, and helpless--you could see that by his white hanging
hands. But his voice--it was what a woman's voice would be if she
were a man. It made you perk up and pretend to be somewhere near
its level. It fitted his soft, black clothes and his fine, clean
face. It meant silks and velvets and--
Oh, all right, Tommy Dorgan, if you're going to get jealous of a
voice!
"Excuse me, Mr. Latimer." The cop came in as he spoke, Moriway
following; the rest of the hounds hung about. "There's a
thieving bell-boy from the hotel that's somewhere in your
grounds. Can I come in and get him?"
"In here, Sergeant? Aren't you mistaken?"
"No; Mr. Moriway here saw him jump the gate not five minutes
since."
"Strange, and I here all the time! I may have dozed of, though.
Certainly--certainly. Look for the little rascal. What's he
stolen? Diamonds! Tut! tut! Enterprising, isn't he? . . . Miss
Omar, won't you kindly reach the bell yonder--no, on the table;
that's it--and ring for some one to take the officer about?"
I rang.
Do you know what happened? An electric light strung on the tree
above the table shone out, and there I stood under it with
"How could I, ma'am?"
"How could you?" She looked up, the tears on her flabby,
flushed cheek.
"I didn't know myself. I can't read writing--"
It was thin, but she wanted to believe it.
She could have taken me in her arms, she was so happy.
"There! there!" she patted my shoulder and gave me a dollar
bill. "I was a bit hasty, Nat. It's only a--a little business
matter that Mr. Moriway's attending to for me. We--we'll finish
it up this afternoon. I shouldn't like Miss Kingdon to know of
it, because--because I--never like to worry her about business,
you know. So don't mention it when she comes to-morrow."
"No'm. Shall I fasten your dress?" I simply had to stay in that
room till I could get rid of those diamonds.
With a faded old blush--the nicest thing about her I'd ever
seen--she turned her back.
"It's dark to-day, ma'am," I coaxed. "Would you mind coming
nearer the window?"
No, she wouldn't mind. She backed up to the corner like a gentle
little lamb. While I hooked with one hand, I dropped the little
bag where the carpet was still turned up, and with the toe of my
shoe spread it flat again.
"You're real handy for a boy," she said, pleased.
"Thank you, ma'am," I answered, pleased myself.
Moriway was still watching me, of course, when I came out, but I
ran downstairs, he following close, and when the Major got hold
of me, I pulled my pockets inside out like a little man.
Moriway was there at the time. I knew he wasn't convinced. But he
couldn't watch a bell-boy all day long, and the moment I was sure
his eyes were off me I was ready to get those diamonds back
again.
But not a call came all that afternoon from the west side of the
house, except the call of those pretty, precious things snug
under the carpetcalling, calling to me to come and get them and
drop bell-boying for good.
At last I couldn't stand it any longer. There's only one thing to
do when your chance won't come to you; that is, to go to it. At
about four o'clock I lit out, climbed to the second story and
there--Mag, I always was the luckiest girl at the Cruelty, wasn't
I? Well, there was suite 231 all torn up, plumbers and painters
in there, and nothing in the world to prevent a boy's skinning
through when no one was watching, out of the window and up the
fire-escape.
Just outside of Mrs. Kingdon's window I lay still a minute. I had
seen her and Moriway go out together--she all gay with finery, he
carrying her bag. The lace curtains in 331 were blowing in the
breeze. Cautiously I parted them and looked in. Everything was
lovely. From where I lay I reached down and turned back the flap
of the carpet. It was too easy. Those darling diamonds seemed
just to leap up into my hand. In a moment I had them tucked away
in my pants pocket. Then down the fire-escape and out through
231, where I told the painter I'd been to get a toy the boy in
441 had dropped out of the window.
But he paid no attention to me. No one did, though I felt those
diamonds shining like an X-ray through my very body. I got
downstairs and was actually outside the door, almost in the
street and off to you, when a girl called me.
"Here, boy, carry this case," she said.
Do you know who it was? Oh, yes, you do, a dear old friend of
mine from Philadelphia, a young lady whose taste--well, all
right, I'll tell you: it was the girl with the red coat, and the
hat with the chinchilla fur.
How did they look? Oh, fairly well on a blonde! But to my taste
the last girl I'd seen in the coat and hat was handsomer.
Well, I carried her suit-case and followed her back into the
hotel. I didn't want to a bit, though that coat still--wonder how
she got it back!
She sailed up the hall and into the elevator, and I had to
follow. We got of at the third story, and she brought me right to
the door of 331. And then I knew this must be Evelyn.
"Mrs. Kingdon's out, Miss. She didn't expect you till
to-morrow."
"Did she tell you that? Too bad she isn't at home! She said
she'd be kept busy all day to-day with a business matter, and
that I'd better not get here till to-morrow. But I--"
"Wanted to get here in time for the wedding?" I suggested softly.
You should have seen her jump.
"Wedding! Not--"
"Mrs. Kingdon and Mr. Moriway."
She turned white.
"Has that man followed her here? Quick, tell me. Has she
actually married him?"
"No--not yet. It's for five o'clock at the church on the
corner."
"How do you know?" She turned on me, suddenly suspicious.
"Well--I do know. And I'm the only person in the house that
does."
"I don't believe you."
She took out her key and opened the door, and I followed her in
with the suit-case. But before I could get it set down on the
floor, she had swooped on a letter that was lying in the middle
of the table, had torn it open, and then with a cry had come
whirling toward me.
"Where is this church? Come, help me to get to it before five
and I'll--oh, you shall have anything in the world you want!"
She flew out into the hall, I after her. And first thing you know
we were down in the street, around the corner, and there in front
of the church was a carriage with Moriway just helping Mrs.
Kingdon out.
"Mother!"
At that cry the old lady's knees seemed to crumble under her. Her
poor old painted face looked out ghastly and ashamed from her
wedding finery. But Evelyn in her red coat flew to her and took
her in her arms as though she was a child. And like a child, Mrs.
Kingdon sobbed and made excuses and begged to be forgiven.
I looked at Moriway. It was all the pay I wanted--particularly as
I had those little diamonds.
"You're just in time, Miss Kingdon," he said uneasily, "to
make your mother happy by your presence at her wedding."
"I'm just in time, Mr. Moriway, to see that my mother's not made
unhappy by your presence."
"Evelyn!" Mrs. Kingdon remonstrated.
"Come, Sarah." Moriway offered his arm.
The bride shook her head.
"To-morrow," she said feebly.
Moriway breathed a swear.
Miss Kingdon laughed.
"I've come to take care of you, you silly little mother, dear
. . . . It won't be to-morrow, Mr. Moriway."
"No--not to-morrow--next week," sighed Mrs. Kingdon.
"In fact, mother's changed her mind, Mr. Moriway. She thinks it
ungenerous to accept such a sacrifice from a man who might be her
son--don't you, mother?"
"Well, perhaps, George--" She looked up from her daughter's
shoulder--she was crying all over that precious red coat of
mine--and her eyes lit on me. "Oh--you wicked boy, you told a
lie!" she gasped. "You did read my letter."
I laughed; laughed out loud, it was such a bully thing to watch
Moriway's face.
But that was an unlucky laugh of mine; it turned his wrath on me.
He made a dive toward me. I ducked and ran. Oh, how I ran! But if
he hadn't slipped on the curb he'd have had me. As he fell,
though, he let out a yell.
"Stop thief! stop thief! Thief! Thief! Thief!"
May you never hear it, Mag, behind you when you've somebody
else's diamonds in your pocket. It sounds--it sounds the way the
bay of the hounds must sound to the hare. It seems to fly along
with the air; at the same time to be behind you, at your side,
even in front of you.
I heard it bellowed in a dozen different voices, and every now
and then I could hear Moriway as I pelted on--that brassy, cruel
bellow of his that made my heart sick.
And then all at once I heard a policeman's whistle.
That whistle was like a signal--I saw the gates of the Correction
open before me. I saw your Nance, Tom, in a neat striped dress,
and she was behind bars--bars--bars! There were bars everywhere
before me. In fact, I felt them against my very hands, for in my
mad race I had shot up a blind alley--a street that ended in a
garden behind an iron fence.
I grabbed the diamonds to throw them from me, but I couldn't--I
just couldn't! I jumped the fence where the gate was low, and
with that whistle flying shrill and shriller after me I ran to
the house.
I might have jumped from the frying-pan? Of course, I might. But
it was all fire to me. To be caught at the end is at least no
worse than to be caught at the beginning. Anyhow, it was my one
chance, and I took it as unhesitatingly as a rat takes a leap
into a trap to escape a terrier. Only--only, it was my luck that
the trap wasn't set! The room was empty. I pushed open a glass
door, and fell over an open trunk that stood beside it.
It bruised my knee and tore my hand, but oh!--it was nuts to me.
For it was a woman's trunk filled with women's things.
A skirt! A blessed skirt! And not a striped one. I threw off the
bell-boy's jacket and I got into that dear dress so quick it made
my head swim.
The jacket was a bit tight but I didn't button it, and I'd just
got a stiff little hat perched on my head when I heard the tramp
of men on the sidewalk, and in the dusk saw the cop's buttons at
the gate.
Caught? Not much. Not yet. I threw open the glass doors and
walked out into the garden.
"Miss--Omar--I wonder if it would be Miss Omar?"
You bet I didn't take time to see who it was talking before I
answered. Of course I was Miss Omar. I was Miss Anybody that had
a right to wear skirts and be inside those blessed gates.
"Ah--h! I fancied you might be. I've been expecting you."
It was a lazy, low voice with a laugh in it, and it came from a
wheeled chair, where a young man lay. Sallow he was and slim and
long, and helpless--you could see that by his white hanging
hands. But his voice--it was what a woman's voice would be if she
were a man. It made you perk up and pretend to be somewhere near
its level. It fitted his soft, black clothes and his fine, clean
face. It meant silks and velvets and--
Oh, all right, Tommy Dorgan, if you're going to get jealous of a
voice!
"Excuse me, Mr. Latimer." The cop came in as he spoke, Moriway
following; the rest of the hounds hung about. "There's a
thieving bell-boy from the hotel that's somewhere in your
grounds. Can I come in and get him?"
"In here, Sergeant? Aren't you mistaken?"
"No; Mr. Moriway here saw him jump the gate not five minutes
since."
"Strange, and I here all the time! I may have dozed of, though.
Certainly--certainly. Look for the little rascal. What's he
stolen? Diamonds! Tut! tut! Enterprising, isn't he? . . . Miss
Omar, won't you kindly reach the bell yonder--no, on the table;
that's it--and ring for some one to take the officer about?"
I rang.
Do you know what happened? An electric light strung on the tree
above the table shone out, and there I stood under it with
- fasten [´fɑ:sən]
v.扎牢；闩住；钉牢 (初中英语单词) - hooked [hukt] a.钩状的；上瘾的 (初中英语单词)
- carpet [´kɑ:pit] n.地毯 vt.铺地毯 (初中英语单词)
- downstairs [,daun´steəz] ad.在楼下 a.楼下的 (初中英语单词)
- darling [´dɑ:liŋ] n.爱人 a.亲爱的 (初中英语单词)
- painter [´peintə] n.画家；(油)漆工 (初中英语单词)
- actually [´æktʃuəli] ad.事实上；实际上 (初中英语单词)
- carriage [´kæridʒ] n.马车；客车；货运 (初中英语单词)
- ashamed [ə´ʃeimd] a.惭愧；不好意思 (初中英语单词)
- wicked [´wikid] a.邪恶的；不道德的 (初中英语单词)
- whistle [´wisəl] v.吹哨 n.口哨；汽笛 (初中英语单词)
- beginning [bi´giniŋ] n.开始，开端；起源 (初中英语单词)
- jacket [´dʒækit] n.茄克衫；外套 (初中英语单词)
- button [´bʌtn] n.钮扣 vt.扣上(扣子) (初中英语单词)
- pretend [pri´tend] v.假装；借口；妄求 (初中英语单词)
- jealous [´dʒeləs] a.妒忌的 (初中英语单词)
- cruelty [´kru:əlti] n.残忍；残酷行为 (高中英语单词)
- cautiously [´kɔ:ʃəsli] ad.小心地；谨慎地 (高中英语单词)
- elevator [´eliveitə] n.电梯；升降机 (高中英语单词)
- crumble [´krʌmbəl] v.弄碎；粉碎；崩溃 (高中英语单词)
- ghastly [´gɑ:stli] a.苍白的；可怕的 (高中英语单词)
- shrill [ʃril] a.(声音)尖锐的 (高中英语单词)
- sidewalk [´saidwɔ:k] n.人行道 (高中英语单词)
- sergeant [´sɑ:dʒənt] n.警官；军士 (高中英语单词)
- rascal [´rɑ:skəl] n.流氓 (高中英语单词)
- unlucky [ʌn´lʌki] a.倒霉的，不幸的 (英语四级单词)
- striped [´straipt] a.有条纹的 (英语四级单词)
- blessed [´blesid] a.享福的；神圣的 (英语四级单词)
- calling [´kɔ:liŋ] n.点名；职业；欲望 (英语六级单词)
- uneasily [ʌn´i:zili] ad.不安地；局促地 (英语六级单词)
- enterprising [´entəpraiziŋ] a.有事业心的 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
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