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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Лавка древностей
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- Стр. 278/459
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It
was
not
so
near
,
however
,
but
that
they
spent
another
night
upon
the
road
;
not
that
their
doing
so
was
quite
an
act
of
necessity
,
but
that
the
schoolmaster
,
when
they
approached
within
a
few
miles
of
his
village
,
had
a
fidgety
sense
of
his
dignity
as
the
new
clerk
,
and
was
unwilling
to
make
his
entry
in
dusty
shoes
,
and
travel
-
disordered
dress
.
It
was
a
fine
,
clear
,
autumn
morning
,
when
they
came
upon
the
scene
of
his
promotion
,
and
stopped
to
contemplate
its
beauties
.
‘
See
—
here
’
s
the
church
!
’
cried
the
delighted
schoolmaster
in
a
low
voice
;
‘
and
that
old
building
close
beside
it
,
is
the
schoolhouse
,
I
’
ll
be
sworn
.
Five
-
and
-
thirty
pounds
a
-
year
in
this
beautiful
place
!
’
They
admired
everything
—
the
old
grey
porch
,
the
mullioned
windows
,
the
venerable
gravestones
dotting
the
green
churchyard
,
the
ancient
tower
,
the
very
weathercock
;
the
brown
thatched
roofs
of
cottage
,
barn
,
and
homestead
,
peeping
from
among
the
trees
;
the
stream
that
rippled
by
the
distant
water
-
mill
;
the
blue
Welsh
mountains
far
away
.
It
was
for
such
a
spot
the
child
had
wearied
in
the
dense
,
dark
,
miserable
haunts
of
labour
.
Upon
her
bed
of
ashes
,
and
amidst
the
squalid
horrors
through
which
they
had
forced
their
way
,
visions
of
such
scenes
—
beautiful
indeed
,
but
not
more
beautiful
than
this
sweet
reality
—
had
been
always
present
to
her
mind
.
They
had
seemed
to
melt
into
a
dim
and
airy
distance
,
as
the
prospect
of
ever
beholding
them
again
grew
fainter
;
but
,
as
they
receded
,
she
had
loved
and
panted
for
them
more
.
‘
I
must
leave
you
somewhere
for
a
few
minutes
,
’
said
the
schoolmaster
,
at
length
breaking
the
silence
into
which
they
had
fallen
in
their
gladness
.
‘
I
have
a
letter
to
present
,
and
inquiries
to
make
,
you
know
.
Where
shall
I
take
you
?
To
the
little
inn
yonder
?
’
‘
Let
us
wait
here
,
’
rejoined
Nell
.
‘
The
gate
is
open
.
We
will
sit
in
the
church
porch
till
you
come
back
.
’
‘
A
good
place
too
,
’
said
the
schoolmaster
,
leading
the
way
towards
it
,
disencumbering
himself
of
his
portmanteau
,
and
placing
it
on
the
stone
seat
.
‘
Be
sure
that
I
come
back
with
good
news
,
and
am
not
long
gone
!
’
So
,
the
happy
schoolmaster
put
on
a
bran
-
new
pair
of
gloves
which
he
had
carried
in
a
little
parcel
in
his
pocket
all
the
way
,
and
hurried
off
,
full
of
ardour
and
excitement
.
The
child
watched
him
from
the
porch
until
the
intervening
foliage
hid
him
from
her
view
,
and
then
stepped
softly
out
into
the
old
churchyard
—
so
solemn
and
quiet
that
every
rustle
of
her
dress
upon
the
fallen
leaves
,
which
strewed
the
path
and
made
her
footsteps
noiseless
,
seemed
an
invasion
of
its
silence
It
was
a
very
aged
,
ghostly
place
;
the
church
had
been
built
many
hundreds
of
years
ago
,
and
had
once
had
a
convent
or
monastery
attached
;
for
arches
in
ruins
,
remains
of
oriel
windows
,
and
fragments
of
blackened
walls
,
were
yet
standing
;
while
other
portions
of
the
old
building
,
which
had
crumbled
away
and
fallen
down
,
were
mingled
with
the
churchyard
earth
and
overgrown
with
grass
,
as
if
they
too
claimed
a
burying
-
place
and
sought
to
mix
their
ashes
with
the
dust
of
men
.
Hard
by
these
gravestones
of
dead
years
,
and
forming
a
part
of
the
ruin
which
some
pains
had
been
taken
to
render
habitable
in
modern
times
,
were
two
small
dwellings
with
sunken
windows
and
oaken
doors
,
fast
hastening
to
decay
,
empty
and
desolate
.
