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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Стр. 221/247
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And
still
the
forced
spirit
which
the
whelp
had
plucked
up
,
throve
with
him
If
Stephen
Blackpool
was
not
the
thief
,
let
him
show
himself
.
Why
did
n't
he
?
Another
night
.
Another
day
and
night
.
No
Stephen
Blackpool
.
Where
was
the
man
,
and
why
did
he
not
come
back
?
The
Sunday
was
a
bright
Sunday
in
autumn
,
clear
and
cool
,
when
early
in
the
morning
Sissy
and
Rachael
met
,
to
walk
in
the
country
.
As
Coketown
cast
ashes
not
only
on
its
own
head
but
on
the
neighbourhood
's
too
--
after
the
manner
of
those
pious
persons
who
do
penance
for
their
own
sins
by
putting
other
people
into
sackcloth
--
it
was
customary
for
those
who
now
and
then
thirsted
for
a
draught
of
pure
air
,
which
is
not
absolutely
the
most
wicked
among
the
vanities
of
life
,
to
get
a
few
miles
away
by
the
railroad
,
and
then
begin
their
walk
,
or
their
lounge
in
the
fields
.
Sissy
and
Rachael
helped
themselves
out
of
the
smoke
by
the
usual
means
,
and
were
put
down
at
a
station
about
midway
between
the
town
and
Mr.
Bounderby
's
retreat
.
Though
the
green
landscape
was
blotted
here
and
there
with
heaps
of
coal
,
it
was
green
elsewhere
,
and
there
were
trees
to
see
,
and
there
were
larks
singing
(
though
it
was
Sunday
)
,
and
there
were
pleasant
scents
in
the
air
,
and
all
was
over-arched
by
a
bright
blue
sky
.
In
the
distance
one
way
,
Coketown
showed
as
a
black
mist
;
in
another
distance
hills
began
to
rise
;
in
a
third
,
there
was
a
faint
change
in
the
light
of
the
horizon
where
it
shone
upon
the
far-off
sea
.
Under
their
feet
,
the
grass
was
fresh
;
beautiful
shadows
of
branches
flickered
upon
it
,
and
speckled
it
;
hedgerows
were
luxuriant
;
everything
was
at
peace
.
Engines
at
pits
'
mouths
,
and
lean
old
horses
that
had
worn
the
circle
of
their
daily
labour
into
the
ground
,
were
alike
quiet
;
wheels
had
ceased
for
a
short
space
to
turn
;
and
the
great
wheel
of
earth
seemed
to
revolve
without
the
shocks
and
noises
of
another
time
.
They
walked
on
across
the
fields
and
down
the
shady
lanes
,
sometimes
getting
over
a
fragment
of
a
fence
so
rotten
that
it
dropped
at
a
touch
of
the
foot
,
sometimes
passing
near
a
wreck
of
bricks
and
beams
overgrown
with
grass
,
marking
the
site
of
deserted
works
.
They
followed
paths
and
tracks
,
however
slight
.
Mounds
where
the
grass
was
rank
and
high
,
and
where
brambles
,
dock-weed
,
and
such-like
vegetation
,
were
confusedly
heaped
together
,
they
always
avoided
;
for
dismal
stories
were
told
in
that
country
of
the
old
pits
hidden
beneath
such
indications
.
The
sun
was
high
when
they
sat
down
to
rest
.
They
had
seen
no
one
,
near
or
distant
,
for
a
long
time
;
and
the
solitude
remained
unbroken
.
'
It
is
so
still
here
,
Rachael
,
and
the
way
is
so
untrodden
,
that
I
think
we
must
be
the
first
who
have
been
here
all
the
summer
.
'
As
Sissy
said
it
,
her
eyes
were
attracted
by
another
of
those
rotten
fragments
of
fence
upon
the
ground
.
She
got
up
to
look
at
it
.
'
And
yet
I
do
n't
know
.
This
has
not
been
broken
very
long
.
The
wood
is
quite
fresh
where
it
gave
way
.
Here
are
footsteps
too
.
--
O
Rachael
!
'
