第15章BOOKTHEFIRST：RECALLEDTOLIFE(15)

第15章bookthefirst：recalledtolife(15)

asthecaptiveofmanyyearssatlookingfixedly，byturns，atmr.lorryandatdefarge，somelongobliteratedmarksofanactivelyintentintelligenceinthemiddleoftheforehead，graduallyforcedthemselvesthroughtheblackmistthathadfallenonhim.theywereovercloudedagain，theywerefainter，theyweregone；buttheyhadbeenthere.andsoexactlywastheexpressionrepeatedonthefairyoungfaceofherwhohadcreptalongthewalltoapointwhereshecouldseehim，andwhereshenowstoodlookingathim，withhandswhichatfirsthadbeenonlyraisedinfrightenedcompassion，ifnoteventokeephimoffandshutoutthesightofhim，butwhichwerenowextendingtowardshim，tremblingwitheagernesstolaythespectralfaceuponherwarmyoungbreast，andloveitbacktolifeandhope—soexactlywastheexpressionrepeated（thoughinstrongercharacters）onherfairyoungface，thatitlookedasthoughithadpassedlikeamovinglight，fromhimtoher.

darknesshadfallenonhiminitsplace.helookedatthetwo，lessandlessattentively，andhiseyesingloomyabstractionsoughtthegroundandlookedabouthimintheoldway.finallywithadeeplongsigh，hetooktheshoeup，andresumedhiswork.

'haveyourecognisedhim，monsieur？'askeddefargeinawhisper.

'yes；foramoment.atfirstithoughtitquitehopeless，butihaveunquestionablyseen，forasinglemoment，thefacethationceknewsowell.hush！letusdrawfurtherback.hush！'

shehadmovedfromthewallofthegarret，veryneartothebenchonwhichhesat.therewassomethingawfulinhisunconsciousnessofthefigurethatcouldhaveputoutitshandandtouchedhimashestoopedoverhislabour.

notawordwasspoken，notasoundwasmade.shestoodlikeaspirit，besidehim，andhebentoverhiswork.

ithappened，atlength，thathehadoccasiontochangetheinstrumentinhishand，forhisshoemaker'sknife.itlayonthatsideofhimwhichwasnotthesideonwhichshestood.hehadtakenitup，andwasstoopingtoworkagain，whenhiseyescaughttheskirtofherdress.heraisedthem，andsawherface.thetwospectatorsstartedforward，butshestayedthemwithamotionofherhand.shehadnofearofhisstrikingatherwiththeknife，thoughtheyhad.

hestaredatherwithafearfullook，andafterawhilehislipsbegantoformsomewords，thoughnosoundproceededfromthem.bydegrees，inthepausesofhisquickandlabouredbreathing，hewasheardtosay：'whatisthis？'

withthetearsstreamingdownherface，sheputhertwohandstoherlips，andkissedthemtohim；thenclaspedthemonherbreast，asifshelaidhisruinedheadthere.

'youarenotthegaoler'sdaughter？'

shesighed'no.'

'whoareyou？'

notyettrustingthetonesofhervoice，shesatdownonthebenchbesidehim.herecoiled，butshelaidherhanduponhisarm.astrangethrillstruckhimwhenshedidso，andvisiblypassedoverhisframe；helaidtheknifedownsoftly，ashesatstaringather.

hergoldenhair，whichsheworeinlongcurls，hadbeenhurriedlypushedaside，andfelldownoverherneck.advancinghishandbylittleandlittle，hetookitupandlookedatit.inthemidstoftheactionhewentastray，and，withanotherdeepsigh，felltoworkathisshoemaking.

butnotforlong.releasinghisarm，shelaidherhanduponhisshoulder.afterlookingdoubtfullyatit，twoorthreetimes，asiftobesurethatitwasreallythere，helaiddownhiswork，puthishandtohisneck，andtookoffablackenedstringwithascrapoffoldedragattachedtoit.heopenedthis，carefully，onhisknee，anditcontainedaverylittlequantityofhair：notmorethanoneortwolonggoldenhairs，whichhehad，insomeoldday，woundoffuponhisfinger.

hetookherhairintohishandagain，andlookedcloselyatit.'itisthesame.howcanitbe！whenwasit！howwasit！'

astheconcentratingexpressionreturnedtohisforehead，heseemedtobecomeconsciousthatitwasinhertoo.heturnedherfulltothelight，andlookedather.

'shehadlaidherheaduponmyshoulder，thatnightwheniwassummonedout—shehadafearofmygoing，thoughihadnone—andwheniwasbroughttothenorthtowertheyfoundtheseuponmysleeve.'youwillleavemethem？theycanneverhelpmetoescapeinthebody，thoughtheymayinthespirit.'thosewerethewordsisaid.irememberthemverywell.'

heformedthisspeechwithhislipsmanytimesbeforehecouldutterit.butwhenhedidfindspokenwordsforit，theycametohimcoherently，thoughslowly.

'howwasthis？—wasityou？'

oncemore，thetwospectatorsstarted，asheturneduponherwithafrightfulsuddenness.butshesatperfectlystillinhisgrasp，andonlysaid，inalowvoice，'ientreatyou，goodgentlemen，donotcomenearus，donotspeak，donotmove！'

'hark'heexclaimed.'whosevoicewasthat？'

hishandsreleasedherasheutteredthiscry，andwentuptohiswhitehair，whichtheytoreinafrenzy.itdiedout，aseverythingbuthisshoemakingdiddieoutofhim，andherefoldedhislittlepacketandtriedtosecureitinhisbreast；buthestilllookedather，andgloomilyshookhishead.

'no，no，no；youaretooyoung，tooblooming.itcan'tbe.seewhattheprisoneris.thesearenotthehandssheknew，thisisnotthefacesheknew，thisisnotavoicesheeverheard.no，no.shewas—andhewas—beforetheslowyearsofthenorthtower—agesago.whatisyourname，mygentleangel？'

hailinghissoftenedtoneandmanner，hisdaughterfelluponherkneesbeforehim，withherappealinghandsuponhisbreast.

'o，sir，atanothertimeyoushallknowmyname，andwhomymotherwas，andwhomyfather，andhowineverknewtheirhard，hardhistory.buticannottellyouatthistime，andicannottellyouhere.allthatimaytellyou，hereandnow，is，thatipraytoyoutotouchmeandtoblessme.kissme，kissme！omydear，mydear！'

hiscoldwhiteheadmingledwithherradianthair，whichwarmedandlighteditasthoughitwerethelightoffreedomshiningonhim.