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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 147/859
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The
exultation
and
joy
of
the
Pickwickians
knew
no
bounds
,
when
their
patience
and
assiduity
,
their
washing
and
scraping
,
were
crowned
with
success
.
The
stone
was
uneven
and
broken
,
and
the
letters
were
straggling
and
irregular
,
but
the
following
fragment
of
an
inscription
was
clearly
to
be
deciphered
:
—
[
cross
]
B
I
L
S
Tu
mP
S
H
IS
.
M
.
ARKMr
.
Pickwick
’
s
eyes
sparkled
with
delight
,
as
he
sat
and
gloated
over
the
treasure
he
had
discovered
.
He
had
attained
one
of
the
greatest
objects
of
his
ambition
.
In
a
county
known
to
abound
in
the
remains
of
the
early
ages
;
in
a
village
in
which
there
still
existed
some
memorials
of
the
olden
time
,
he
—
he
,
the
chairman
of
the
Pickwick
Club
—
had
discovered
a
strange
and
curious
inscription
of
unquestionable
antiquity
,
which
had
wholly
escaped
the
observation
of
the
many
learned
men
who
had
preceded
him
.
He
could
hardly
trust
the
evidence
of
his
senses
.
‘
This
—
this
,
’
said
he
,
‘
determines
me
.
We
return
to
town
to
-
morrow
.
’
‘
To
-
morrow
!
’
exclaimed
his
admiring
followers
.
‘
To
-
morrow
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
‘
This
treasure
must
be
at
once
deposited
where
it
can
be
thoroughly
investigated
and
properly
understood
.
I
have
another
reason
for
this
step
.
In
a
few
days
,
an
election
is
to
take
place
for
the
borough
of
Eatanswill
,
at
which
Mr
.
Perker
,
a
gentleman
whom
I
lately
met
,
is
the
agent
of
one
of
the
candidates
.
We
will
behold
,
and
minutely
examine
,
a
scene
so
interesting
to
every
Englishman
.
’
‘
We
will
,
’
was
the
animated
cry
of
three
voices
.
Mr
.
Pickwick
looked
round
him
.
The
attachment
and
fervour
of
his
followers
lighted
up
a
glow
of
enthusiasm
within
him
.
He
was
their
leader
,
and
he
felt
it
.
‘
Let
us
celebrate
this
happy
meeting
with
a
convivial
glass
,
’
said
he
.
This
proposition
,
like
the
other
,
was
received
with
unanimous
applause
.
Having
himself
deposited
the
important
stone
in
a
small
deal
box
,
purchased
from
the
landlady
for
the
purpose
,
he
placed
himself
in
an
arm
-
chair
,
at
the
head
of
the
table
;
and
the
evening
was
devoted
to
festivity
and
conversation
.
It
was
past
eleven
o
’
clock
—
a
late
hour
for
the
little
village
of
Cobham
—
when
Mr
.
Pickwick
retired
to
the
bedroom
which
had
been
prepared
for
his
reception
.
He
threw
open
the
lattice
window
,
and
setting
his
light
upon
the
table
,
fell
into
a
train
of
meditation
on
the
hurried
events
of
the
two
preceding
days
.
