第三册第18篇：夜间的风暴

18. The Night Storm 夜间的风暴

By Charles Dickens



One wintry evening a keen north wind arose as it grew dark, and night came on with black and dismal 1 looks. A bitter storm of sleet 2, dense 3 and ice-cold, swept the wet streets, and rattled 5 on the trembling windows. Sing-boards, shaken past endurance in their creaking frames, fell crashing on the pavement; old tottering 6 chimneys reeled and staggered in the blast; and many a steeple rocked again that night, as though the earth were troubled.



It was not a time for those, who could by any means get light and warmth, to brave the fury of the weather. In coffee-houses of the better sort, guests crowded round the fire, forgot to be political, and told each other with a secret gladness that the blast grew fiercer every minute. Each humble 7 tavern 8 by the waterside had its group of uncouth 9 figures round the hearth 10, who talked of vessels 11 foundering 12 at sea, and all the hands lost; related many a dismal tale of shipwreck 13 and drowned men, and hoped that some they knew were safe, and shook their heads in doubt. In private dwellings 14, children clustered near the blaze; listening with timid pleasure to tales of ghosts and goblins, and tall figures clad in white standing 15 by besides, and people who had gone to sleep in old churches and being overlooked had found themselves alone there at the dead hour of the night, until they shuddered 16 at the thought of the dark roooms up-stairs, yet loved to hear the wind moan too, and hoped it would continue bravely. From time to time these happy in-door people stopped to listen, or one held up his finger and cried, “Hark!” And then above the rumbling 17 in the chimney, and the fast pattering on the glass, was heard a wailing 18, rushing sound, which shook the walls as though a giant’s hand were on them; then a hoarse 19 roar as if the sea had risen; then such a whirl and tumult 20 that the air seemed mad and then, with a lengthened 21 howl, the waves of wind swept on, and left a moment’s interval 22 of rest.



Cheerily, though there were none abroad to see it, shone the May-pole Tavern light that evening Blessings 23 on the deep-red, ruby-glowing-red, old curtains of the window, blending into one rich stream of brightness, fire an candle, meat, drink, and company, and gleaming like a jovial 24 eye upon the bleak 25 waste out of doors! Within, what carpet like its crunching 26 sand, what music merry as its crackling logs, what perfume like its kithen’s dainty breach 27, what weather genial 28 as its hearty 29 warmth! Blessings on the old house, how sturdily it stood! How did the vexed 30 wind chafe 31 and roar about its stalwart roof; how did it pant and strive with its wide chimneys, which still poured forth 32 from their hospitable 33 throats great clouds of smoke, and puffed 34 defiance 35 in its face; how, above all, did it drive and rattle 4 at the casement 36, emulous to extinguish that cheerful glow, which would not be put down and seemed the brighter for the conflict.