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- Чарльз Диккенс
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As
soon
as
the
great
black
velvet
pall
outside
my
little
window
was
shot
with
gray
,
I
got
up
and
went
down
stairs
;
every
board
upon
the
way
,
and
every
crack
in
every
board
calling
after
me
,
"
Stop
thief
!
"
and
"
Get
up
,
Mrs
.
Joe
!
"
In
the
pantry
,
which
was
far
more
abundantly
supplied
than
usual
,
owing
to
the
season
,
I
was
very
much
alarmed
by
a
hare
hanging
up
by
the
heels
,
whom
I
rather
thought
I
caught
when
my
back
was
half
turned
,
winking
I
had
no
time
for
verification
,
no
time
for
selection
,
no
time
for
anything
,
for
I
had
no
time
to
spare
.
I
stole
some
bread
,
some
rind
of
cheese
,
about
half
a
jar
of
mincemeat
(
which
I
tied
up
in
my
pocket
-
handkerchief
with
my
last
night
’
s
slice
)
,
some
brandy
from
a
stone
bottle
(
which
I
decanted
into
a
glass
bottle
I
had
secretly
used
for
making
that
intoxicating
fluid
,
Spanish
-
liquorice
-
water
,
up
in
my
room
:
diluting
the
stone
bottle
from
a
jug
in
the
kitchen
cupboard
)
,
a
meat
bone
with
very
little
on
it
,
and
a
beautiful
round
compact
pork
pie
.
I
was
nearly
going
away
without
the
pie
,
but
I
was
tempted
to
mount
upon
a
shelf
,
to
look
what
it
was
that
was
put
away
so
carefully
in
a
covered
earthen
ware
dish
in
a
corner
,
and
I
found
it
was
the
pie
,
and
I
took
it
in
the
hope
that
it
was
not
intended
for
early
use
,
and
would
not
be
missed
for
some
time
.
There
was
a
door
in
the
kitchen
,
communicating
with
the
forge
;
I
unlocked
and
unbolted
that
door
,
and
got
a
file
from
among
Joe
’
s
tools
.
Then
I
put
the
fastenings
as
I
had
found
them
,
opened
the
door
at
which
I
had
entered
when
I
ran
home
last
night
,
shut
it
,
and
ran
for
the
misty
marshes
.
It
was
a
rimy
morning
,
and
very
damp
.
I
had
seen
the
damp
lying
on
the
outside
of
my
little
window
,
as
if
some
goblin
had
been
crying
there
all
night
,
and
using
the
window
for
a
pocket
-
handkerchief
.
Now
,
I
saw
the
damp
lying
on
the
bare
hedges
and
spare
grass
,
like
a
coarser
sort
of
spiders
’
webs
;
hanging
itself
from
twig
to
twig
and
blade
to
blade
.
On
every
rail
and
gate
,
wet
lay
clammy
,
and
the
marsh
mist
was
so
thick
,
that
the
wooden
finger
on
the
post
directing
people
to
our
village
—
a
direction
which
they
never
accepted
,
for
they
never
came
there
—
was
invisible
to
me
until
I
was
quite
close
under
it
.
Then
,
as
I
looked
up
at
it
,
while
it
dripped
,
it
seemed
to
my
oppressed
conscience
like
a
phantom
devoting
me
to
the
Hulks
.
The
mist
was
heavier
yet
when
I
got
out
upon
the
marshes
,
so
that
instead
of
my
running
at
everything
,
everything
seemed
to
run
at
me
.
This
was
very
disagreeable
to
a
guilty
mind
.
The
gates
and
dikes
and
banks
came
bursting
at
me
through
the
mist
,
as
if
they
cried
as
plainly
as
could
be
,
"
A
boy
with
Somebody
’
s
else
’
s
pork
pie
!
Stop
him
!
"
The
cattle
came
upon
me
with
like
suddenness
,
staring
out
of
their
eyes
,
and
steaming
out
of
their
nostrils
,
"
Halloa
,
young
thief
!
"
One
black
ox
,
with
a
white
cravat
on
—
who
even
had
to
my
awakened
conscience
something
of
a
clerical
air
—
fixed
me
so
obstinately
with
his
eyes
,
and
moved
his
blunt
head
round
in
such
an
accusatory
manner
as
I
moved
round
,
that
I
blubbered
out
to
him
,
"
I
couldn
’
t
help
it
,
sir
!
It
wasn
’
t
for
myself
I
took
it
!
"
Upon
which
he
put
down
his
head
,
blew
a
cloud
of
smoke
out
of
his
nose
,
and
vanished
with
a
kick
-
up
of
his
hind
-
legs
and
a
flourish
of
his
tail
.
All
this
time
,
I
was
getting
on
towards
the
river
;
but
however
fast
I
went
,
I
couldn
’
t
warm
my
feet
,
to
which
the
damp
cold
seemed
riveted
,
as
the
iron
was
riveted
to
the
leg
of
the
man
I
was
running
to
meet
.
I
knew
my
way
to
the
Battery
,
pretty
straight
,
for
I
had
been
down
there
on
a
Sunday
with
Joe
,
and
Joe
,
sitting
on
an
old
gun
,
had
told
me
that
when
I
was
’
prentice
to
him
,
regularly
bound
,
we
would
have
such
Larks
there
!
However
,
in
the
confusion
of
the
mist
,
I
found
myself
at
last
too
far
to
the
right
,
and
consequently
had
to
try
back
along
the
river
-
side
,
on
the
bank
of
loose
stones
above
the
mud
and
the
stakes
that
staked
the
tide
out
.
Making
my
way
along
here
with
all
despatch
,
I
had
just
crossed
a
ditch
which
I
knew
to
be
very
near
the
Battery
,
and
had
just
scrambled
up
the
mound
beyond
the
ditch
,
when
I
saw
the
man
sitting
before
me
.
His
back
was
towards
me
,
and
he
had
his
arms
folded
,
and
was
nodding
forward
,
heavy
with
sleep
.
I
thought
he
would
be
more
glad
if
I
came
upon
him
with
his
breakfast
,
in
that
unexpected
manner
,
so
I
went
forward
softly
and
touched
him
on
the
shoulder
.
He
instantly
jumped
up
,
and
it
was
not
the
same
man
,
but
another
man
!
And
yet
this
man
was
dressed
in
coarse
gray
,
too
,
and
had
a
great
iron
on
his
leg
,
and
was
lame
,
and
hoarse
,
and
cold
,
and
was
everything
that
the
other
man
was
;
except
that
he
had
not
the
same
face
,
and
had
a
flat
broad
-
brimmed
low
-
crowned
felt
that
on
.
All
this
I
saw
in
a
moment
,
for
I
had
only
a
moment
to
see
it
in
:
he
swore
an
oath
at
me
,
made
a
hit
at
me
—
it
was
a
round
weak
blow
that
missed
me
and
almost
knocked
himself
down
,
for
it
made
him
stumble
—
and
then
he
ran
into
the
mist
,
stumbling
twice
as
he
went
,
and
I
lost
him
.
