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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Лавка древностей
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- Стр. 269/459
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‘
It
was
a
dreary
way
he
told
us
of
,
’
returned
her
grandfather
,
piteously
.
‘
Is
there
no
other
road
?
Will
you
not
let
me
go
some
other
way
than
this
?
’
‘
Places
lie
beyond
these
,
’
said
the
child
,
firmly
,
‘
where
we
may
live
in
peace
,
and
be
tempted
to
do
no
harm
.
We
will
take
the
road
that
promises
to
have
that
end
,
and
we
would
not
turn
out
of
it
,
if
it
were
a
hundred
times
worse
than
our
fears
lead
us
to
expect
.
We
would
not
,
dear
,
would
we
?
’
‘
No
,
’
replied
the
old
man
,
wavering
in
his
voice
,
no
less
than
in
his
manner
.
‘
No
.
Let
us
go
on
.
I
am
ready
.
I
am
quite
ready
,
Nell
.
’
The
child
walked
with
more
difficulty
than
she
had
led
her
companion
to
expect
,
for
the
pains
that
racked
her
joints
were
of
no
common
severity
,
and
every
exertion
increased
them
.
But
they
wrung
from
her
no
complaint
,
or
look
of
suffering
;
and
,
though
the
two
travellers
proceeded
very
slowly
,
they
did
proceed
.
Clearing
the
town
in
course
of
time
,
they
began
to
feel
that
they
were
fairly
on
their
way
.
A
long
suburb
of
red
brick
houses
—
some
with
patches
of
garden
-
ground
,
where
coal
-
dust
and
factory
smoke
darkened
the
shrinking
leaves
,
and
coarse
rank
flowers
,
and
where
the
struggling
vegetation
sickened
and
sank
under
the
hot
breath
of
kiln
and
furnace
,
making
them
by
its
presence
seem
yet
more
blighting
and
unwholesome
than
in
the
town
itself
—
a
long
,
flat
,
straggling
suburb
passed
,
they
came
,
by
slow
degrees
,
upon
a
cheerless
region
,
where
not
a
blade
of
grass
was
seen
to
grow
,
where
not
a
bud
put
forth
its
promise
in
the
spring
,
where
nothing
green
could
live
but
on
the
surface
of
the
stagnant
pools
,
which
here
and
there
lay
idly
sweltering
by
the
black
road
-
side
.
Advancing
more
and
more
into
the
shadow
of
this
mournful
place
,
its
dark
depressing
influence
stole
upon
their
spirits
,
and
filled
them
with
a
dismal
gloom
.
On
every
side
,
and
far
as
the
eye
could
see
into
the
heavy
distance
,
tall
chimneys
,
crowding
on
each
other
,
and
presenting
that
endless
repetition
of
the
same
dull
,
ugly
form
,
which
is
the
horror
of
oppressive
dreams
,
poured
out
their
plague
of
smoke
,
obscured
the
light
,
and
made
foul
the
melancholy
air
.
On
mounds
of
ashes
by
the
wayside
,
sheltered
only
by
a
few
rough
boards
,
or
rotten
pent
-
house
roofs
,
strange
engines
spun
and
writhed
like
tortured
creatures
;
clanking
their
iron
chains
,
shrieking
in
their
rapid
whirl
from
time
to
time
as
though
in
torment
unendurable
,
and
making
the
ground
tremble
with
their
agonies
.
Dismantled
houses
here
and
there
appeared
,
tottering
to
the
earth
,
propped
up
by
fragments
of
others
that
had
fallen
down
,
unroofed
,
windowless
,
blackened
,
desolate
,
but
yet
inhabited
.
Men
,
women
,
children
,
wan
in
their
looks
and
ragged
in
attire
,
tended
the
engines
,
fed
their
tributary
fire
,
begged
upon
the
road
,
or
scowled
half
-
naked
from
the
doorless
houses
.
Then
came
more
of
the
wrathful
monsters
,
whose
like
they
almost
seemed
to
be
in
their
wildness
and
their
untamed
air
,
screeching
and
turning
round
and
round
again
;
and
still
,
before
,
behind
,
and
to
the
right
and
left
,
was
the
same
interminable
perspective
of
brick
towers
,
never
ceasing
in
their
black
vomit
,
blasting
all
things
living
or
inanimate
,
shutting
out
the
face
of
day
,
and
closing
in
on
all
these
horrors
with
a
dense
dark
cloud
.
But
night
-
time
in
this
dreadful
spot
!
—
night
,
when
the
smoke
was
changed
to
fire
;
when
every
chimney
spirited
up
its
flame
;
and
places
,
that
had
been
dark
vaults
all
day
,
now
shone
red
-
hot
,
with
figures
moving
to
and
fro
within
their
blazing
jaws
,
and
calling
to
one
another
with
hoarse
cries
—
night
,
when
the
noise
of
every
strange
machine
was
aggravated
by
the
darkness
;
when
the
people
near
them
looked
wilder
and
more
savage
;
when
bands
of
unemployed
labourers
paraded
the
roads
,
or
clustered
by
torch
-
light
round
their
leaders
,
who
told
them
,
in
stern
language
,
of
their
wrongs
,
and
urged
them
on
to
frightful
cries
and
threats
;
when
maddened
men
,
armed
with
sword
and
firebrand
,
spurning
the
tears
and
prayers
of
women
who
would
restrain
them
,
rushed
forth
on
errands
of
terror
and
destruction
,
to
work
no
ruin
half
so
surely
as
their
own
—
night
,
when
carts
came
rumbling
by
,
filled
with
rude
coffins
(
for
contagious
disease
and
death
had
been
busy
with
the
living
crops
)
;
when
orphans
cried
,
and
distracted
women
shrieked
and
followed
in
their
wake
—
night
,
when
some
called
for
bread
,
and
some
for
drink
to
drown
their
cares
,
and
some
with
tears
,
and
some
with
staggering
feet
,
and
some
with
bloodshot
eyes
,
went
brooding
home
—
night
,
which
,
unlike
the
night
that
Heaven
sends
on
earth
,
brought
with
it
no
peace
,
nor
quiet
,
nor
signs
of
blessed
sleep
—
who
shall
tell
the
terrors
of
the
night
to
the
young
wandering
child
!
And
yet
she
lay
down
,
with
nothing
between
her
and
the
sky
;
and
,
with
no
fear
for
herself
,
for
she
was
past
it
now
,
put
up
a
prayer
for
the
poor
old
man
.
So
very
weak
and
spent
,
she
felt
,
so
very
calm
and
unresisting
,
that
she
had
no
thought
of
any
wants
of
her
own
,
but
prayed
that
God
would
raise
up
some
friend
for
him
.
She
tried
to
recall
the
way
they
had
come
,
and
to
look
in
the
direction
where
the
fire
by
which
they
had
slept
last
night
was
burning
.
She
had
forgotten
to
ask
the
name
of
the
poor
man
,
their
friend
,
and
when
she
had
remembered
him
in
her
prayers
,
it
seemed
ungrateful
not
to
turn
one
look
towards
the
spot
where
he
was
watching
.
