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- Чарльз Диккенс
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"
No
,
thank
you
,
"
I
replied
,
turning
from
the
table
to
brood
over
the
fire
.
"
I
can
eat
no
more
.
Please
take
it
away
.
"
I
had
never
been
struck
at
so
keenly
,
for
my
thanklessness
to
Joe
,
as
through
the
brazen
impostor
Pumblechook
.
The
falser
he
,
the
truer
Joe
;
the
meaner
he
,
the
nobler
Joe
.
My
heart
was
deeply
and
most
deservedly
humbled
as
I
mused
over
the
fire
for
an
hour
or
more
.
The
striking
of
the
clock
aroused
me
,
but
not
from
my
dejection
or
remorse
,
and
I
got
up
and
had
my
coat
fastened
round
my
neck
,
and
went
out
.
I
had
previously
sought
in
my
pockets
for
the
letter
,
that
I
might
refer
to
it
again
;
but
I
could
not
find
it
,
and
was
uneasy
to
think
that
it
must
have
been
dropped
in
the
straw
of
the
coach
.
I
knew
very
well
,
however
,
that
the
appointed
place
was
the
little
sluice
-
house
by
the
limekiln
on
the
marshes
,
and
the
hour
nine
.
Towards
the
marshes
I
now
went
straight
,
having
no
time
to
spare
.
It
was
a
dark
night
,
though
the
full
moon
rose
as
I
left
the
enclosed
lands
,
and
passed
out
upon
the
marshes
.
Beyond
their
dark
line
there
was
a
ribbon
of
clear
sky
,
hardly
broad
enough
to
hold
the
red
large
moon
.
In
a
few
minutes
she
had
ascended
out
of
that
clear
field
,
in
among
the
piled
mountains
of
cloud
.
There
was
a
melancholy
wind
,
and
the
marshes
were
very
dismal
.
A
stranger
would
have
found
them
insupportable
,
and
even
to
me
they
were
so
oppressive
that
I
hesitated
,
half
inclined
to
go
back
.
But
I
knew
them
well
,
and
could
have
found
my
way
on
a
far
darker
night
,
and
had
no
excuse
for
returning
,
being
there
.
So
,
having
come
there
against
my
inclination
,
I
went
on
against
it
.
The
direction
that
I
took
was
not
that
in
which
my
old
home
lay
,
nor
that
in
which
we
had
pursued
the
convicts
.
My
back
was
turned
towards
the
distant
Hulks
as
I
walked
on
,
and
,
though
I
could
see
the
old
lights
away
on
the
spits
of
sand
,
I
saw
them
over
my
shoulder
.
I
knew
the
limekiln
as
well
as
I
knew
the
old
Battery
,
but
they
were
miles
apart
;
so
that
,
if
a
light
had
been
burning
at
each
point
that
night
,
there
would
have
been
a
long
strip
of
the
blank
horizon
between
the
two
bright
specks
.
At
first
,
I
had
to
shut
some
gates
after
me
,
and
now
and
then
to
stand
still
while
the
cattle
that
were
lying
in
the
banked
-
up
pathway
arose
and
blundered
down
among
the
grass
and
reeds
.
But
after
a
little
while
I
seemed
to
have
the
whole
flats
to
myself
.
It
was
another
half
-
hour
before
I
drew
near
to
the
kiln
.
The
lime
was
burning
with
a
sluggish
stifling
smell
,
but
the
fires
were
made
up
and
left
,
and
no
workmen
were
visible
.
Hard
by
was
a
small
stone
-
quarry
.
It
lay
directly
in
my
way
,
and
had
been
worked
that
day
,
as
I
saw
by
the
tools
and
barrows
that
were
lying
about
.
Coming
up
again
to
the
marsh
level
out
of
this
excavation
—
for
the
rude
path
lay
through
it
—
I
saw
a
light
in
the
old
sluice
-
house
.
I
quickened
my
pace
,
and
knocked
at
the
door
with
my
hand
.
Waiting
for
some
reply
,
I
looked
about
me
,
noticing
how
the
sluice
was
abandoned
and
broken
,
and
how
the
house
—
of
wood
with
a
tiled
roof
—
would
not
be
proof
against
the
weather
much
longer
,
if
it
were
so
even
now
,
and
how
the
mud
and
ooze
were
coated
with
lime
,
and
how
the
choking
vapor
of
the
kiln
crept
in
a
ghostly
way
towards
me
.
Still
there
was
no
answer
,
and
I
knocked
again
.
No
answer
still
,
and
I
tried
the
latch
.
