lazy tour of two idle apprentices-第6部分

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see；　that　has　been　badly　strained。　　Time　and　rest；　sir！　　They　are

often　the　recipe　in　greater　cases；'　with　a　slight　sigh；　'and　often

the　recipe　in　small。　　I　can　send　a　lotion　to　relieve　you；　but　we

must　leave　the　cure　to　time　and　rest。'



This　he　said；　holding　Idle's　foot　on　his　knee　between　his　two

hands；　as　he　sat　over　against　him。　　He　had　touched　it　tenderly　and

skilfully　in　explanation　of　what　he　said；　and；　when　his　careful

examination　was　completed；　softly　returned　it　to　its　former

horizontal　position　on　a　chair。



He　spoke　with　a　little　irresolution　whenever　he　began；　but

afterwards　fluently。　　He　was　a　tall；　thin；　large…boned；　old

gentleman；　with　an　appearance　at　first　sight　of　being　hard…

featured；　but；　at　a　second　glance；　the　mild　expression　of　his　face

and　some　particular　touches　of　sweetness　and　patience　about　his

mouth；　corrected　this　impression　and　assigned　his　long　professional

rides；　by　day　and　night；　in　the　bleak　hill…weather；　as　the　true

cause　of　that　appearance。　　He　stooped　very　little；　though　past

seventy　and　very　grey。　　His　dress　was　more　like　that　of　a　clergyman

than　a　country　doctor；　being　a　plain　black　suit；　and　a　plain　white

neck…kerchief　tied　behind　like　a　band。　　His　black　was　the　worse　for

wear；　and　there　were　darns　in　his　coat；　and　his　linen　was　a　little

frayed　at　the　hems　and　edges。　　He　might　have　been　poor　…　it　was

likely　enough　in　that　out…of…the…way　spot　…　or　he　might　have　been　a

little　self…forgetful　and　eccentric。　　Any　one　could　have　seen

directly；　that　he　had　neither　wife　nor　child　at　home。　　He　had　a

scholarly　air　with　him；　and　that　kind　of　considerate　humanity

towards　others　which　claimed　a　gentle　consideration　for　himself。

Mr。　Goodchild　made　this　study　of　him　while　he　was　examining　the

limb；　and　as　he　laid　it　down。　　Mr。　Goodchild　wishes　to　add　that　he

considers　it　a　very　good　likeness。



It　came　out　in　the　course　of　a　little　conversation；　that　Doctor

Speddie　was　acquainted　with　some　friends　of　Thomas　Idle's；　and　had；

when　a　young　man；　passed　some　years　in　Thomas　Idle's　birthplace　on

the　other　side　of　England。　　Certain　idle　labours；　the　fruit　of　Mr。

Goodchild's　apprenticeship；　also　happened　to　be　well　known　to　him。

The　lazy　travellers　were　thus　placed　on　a　more　intimate　footing

with　the　Doctor　than　the　casual　circumstances　of　the　meeting　would

of　themselves　have　established；　and　when　Doctor　Speddie　rose　to　go

home；　remarking　that　he　would　send　his　assistant　with　the　lotion；

Francis　Goodchild　said　that　was　unnecessary；　for；　by　the　Doctor's

leave；　he　would　accompany　him；　and　bring　it　back。　　（Having　done

nothing　to　fatigue　himself　for　a　full　quarter　of　an　hour；　Francis

began　to　fear　that　he　was　not　in　a　state　of　idleness。）



Doctor　Speddie　politely　assented　to　the　proposition　of　Francis

Goodchild；　'as　it　would　give　him　the　pleasure　of　enjoying　a　few

more　minutes　of　Mr。　Goodchild's　society　than　he　could　otherwise

have　hoped　for；'　and　they　went　out　together　into　the　village

street。　　The　rain　had　nearly　ceased；　the　clouds　had　broken　before　a

cool　wind　from　the　north…east；　and　stars　were　shining　from　the

peaceful　heights　beyond　them。



Doctor　Speddie's　house　was　the　last　house　in　the　place。　　Beyond　it；

lay　the　moor；　all　dark　and　lonesome。　　The　wind　moaned　in　a　low；

dull；　shivering　manner　round　the　little　garden；　like　a　houseless

creature　that　knew　the　winter　was　coming。　　It　was　exceedingly　wild

and　solitary。　　'Roses；'　said　the　Doctor；　when　Goodchild　touched

some　wet　leaves　overhanging　the　stone　porch；　'but　they　get　cut　to

pieces。'



The　Doctor　opened　the　door　with　a　key　he　carried；　and　led　the　way

into　a　low　but　pretty　ample　hall　with　rooms　on　either　side。　　The

door　of　one　of　these　stood　open；　and　the　Doctor　entered　it；　with　a

word　of　welcome　to　his　guest。　　It；　too；　was　a　low　room；　half

surgery　and　half　parlour；　with　shelves　of　books　and　bottles　against

the　walls；　which　were　of　a　very　dark　hue。　　There　was　a　fire　in　the

grate；　the　night　being　damp　and　chill。　　Leaning　against　the

chimney…piece　looking　down　into　it；　stood　the　Doctor's　Assistant。



A　man　of　a　most　remarkable　appearance。　　Much　older　than　Mr。

Goodchild　had　expected；　for　he　was　at　least　two…and…fifty；　but；

that　was　nothing。　　What　was　startling　in　him　was　his　remarkable

paleness。　　His　large　black　eyes；　his　sunken　cheeks；　his　long　and

heavy　iron…grey　hair；　his　wasted　hands；　and　even　the　attenuation　of

his　figure；　were　at　first　forgotten　in　his　extraordinary　pallor。

There　was　no　vestige　of　colour　in　the　man。　　When　he　turned　his

face；　Francis　Goodchild　started　as　if　a　stone　figure　had　looked

round　at　him。



'Mr。　Lorn；'　said　the　Doctor。　　'Mr。　Goodchild。'



The　Assistant；　in　a　distraught　way　…　as　if　he　had　forgotten

something　…　as　if　he　had　forgotten　everything；　even　to　his　own　name

and　himself　…　acknowledged　the　visitor's　presence；　and　stepped

further　back　into　the　shadow　of　the　wall　behind　him。　　But；　he　was

so　pale　that　his　face　stood　out　in　relief　again　the　dark　wall；　and

really　could　not　be　hidden　so。



'Mr。　Goodchild's　friend　has　met　with　accident；　Lorn；'　said　Doctor

Speddie。　　'We　want　the　lotion　for　a　bad　sprain。'



A　pause。



'My　dear　fellow；　you　are　more　than　usually　absent　to…night。　　The

lotion　for　a　bad　sprain。'



'Ah！　yes！　　Directly。'



He　was　evidently　relieved　to　turn　away；　and　to　take　his　white　face

and　his　wild　eyes　to　a　table　in　a　recess　among　the　bottles。　　But；

though　he　stood　there；　compounding　the　lotion　with　his　back　towards

them；　Goodchild　could　not；　for　many　moments；　withdraw　his　gaze　from

the　man。　　When　he　at　length　did　so；　he　found　the　Doctor　observing

him；　with　some　trouble　in　his　face。　　'He　is　absent；'　explained　the

Doctor；　in　a　low　voice。　　'Always　absent。　　Very　absent。'



'Is　he　ill？'



'No；　not　ill。'



'Unhappy？'



'I　have　my　suspicions　that　he　was；'　assented　the　Doctor；　'once。'



Francis　Goodchild　could　not　but　observe　that　the　Doctor　accompanied

these　words　with　a　benignant　and　protecting　glance　at　their

subject；　in　which　there　was　much　of　the　expression　with　which　an

attached　father　might　have　looked　at　a　heavily　afflicted　son。　　Yet；

that　they　were　not　father　and　son　must　have　been　plain　to　most

eyes。　　The　Assistant；　on　the　other　hand；　turning　presently　to　ask

the　Doctor　some　question；　looked　at　him　with　a　wan　smile　as　if　he

were　his　whole　reliance　and　sustainment　in　life。



It　was　in　vain　for　the　Doctor　in　his　easy…chair；　to　try　to　lead　the

mind　of　Mr。　Goodchild　in　the　opposite　easy…chair；　away　from　what

was　before　him。　　Let　Mr。　Goodchild　do　what　he　would　to　follow　the

Doctor；　his　eyes　and　thoughts　reverted　to　the　Assistant。　　The

Doctor　soon　perceived　it；　and；　after　falling　silent；　and　musing　in

a　little　perplexity；　said：



'Lorn！'



'My　dear　Doctor。'



'Would　you　go　to　the　Inn；　and　apply　that　lotion？　　You　will　show　the

best　way　of　applying　it；　far　better　than　Mr。　Goodchild　can。'



'With　pleasure。'



The　Assistant　took　his　hat；　and　passed　like　a　shadow　to　the　door。



'Lorn！'　said　the　Doctor；　calling　after　him。



He　returned。



'Mr。　Goodchild　will　keep　me　company　till　you　come　home。　　Don't

hurry。　　Excuse　my　calling　you　back。'



'It　is　not；'　said　the　Assistant；　with　his　former　smile；　'the　first

time　you　have　called　me　back；　dear　Doctor。'　　With　those　words　he

went　away。



'Mr。　Goodchild；'　said　Doctor　Speddie；　in　a　low　voice；　and　with　his

former　troubled　expression　of　face；　'I　have　seen　that　your

attention　has　been　concentrated　on　my　friend。'



'He　fascinates　me。　　I　must　apologise　to　you；　but　he　has　quite

bewildered　and　mastered　me。'



'I　find　that　a　lonely　existence　and　a　long　secret；'　said　the

Doctor；　drawing　his　chair　a　little　nearer　to　Mr。　Goodchild's；

'become　in　the　course　of　time　very　heavy。　　I　will　tell　you

something。　　You　may　make　what　use　you　will　of　it；　under　fictitious

names。　　I　know　I　may　trust　you。　　I　am　the　more　inclined　to

confidence　to…night；　through　having　been　unexpectedly　led　back；　by

the　current　of　our　conversation　at　the　Inn；　to　scenes　in　my　early

life。　　Will　you　please　to　draw　a　little　nearer？'



Mr。　Goodchild　drew　a　little　nearer；　and　the　Doctor　went　on　thus：

speaking；　for　the　most　part；　in　so　cautious　a　voice；　that　the　wind；

though　it　was　far　from　high；　occasionally　got　the　better　of　him。



When　this　present　nineteenth　century　was　younger　by　a　good　many

years　than　it　is　now；　a　certain　friend　of　mine；　named　Arthur

Holliday；　happened　to　arrive　in　the　town　of　Doncaster；　exactly　in

the　middle　of　a　race…week；　or；　in　other　words；　in　the　middle　of　the

month　of　September。　　He　was　one　of　those　reckless；　rattle…pated；

open…hearted；　and　open…mouthed　young　gentlemen；　who　possess　the

gift　of　familiarity　in　its　highest　perfection；　and　who　scramble

carelessly　along　the　journey　of　life　making　friends；　as　the　phrase

is；　wherever　they　go。　　His　father　was　a　rich　manufacturer；　and　had

bought　landed　property　enough　in　one　of　the　midland　counties　to

make　all　the　born　squires　in　his　neighbourhood　thoroughly　envious

of　him。　　Arthur　was　his　only　son；　possessor　in　prospect　of　the

great　estate　and　the　great　business　after　his　father's　death；　well

supplied　with　money；　and　not　too　rigidly　looked　after；　during　his

father's　lifetime。　　Report；　or　scandal；　whichever　you　please；　said

that　the　old　gentleman　had　been　rather　wild　in　his　youthful　days；

and　that；　unlike　most　parents；　he　was　not　disposed　to　be　violently

indignant　when　he　found　that　his　son　took　after　him。　　This　may　be

true　or　not。　　I　myself　only　knew　the　elder　Mr。　Holliday　when　he　was

getting　on　in　years；　and　then　he　was　as　quiet　and　as　respectable　a

gentleman　as　ever　I　met　with。



Well；　one　September；　as　I　told　you；　young　Arthur　comes　to

Doncaster；　having　decided　all　of　a　sudden；　in　his　harebrained　way；

that　he　would　go　to　the　races。　　He　did　not　reach　the　town　till

towards　the　close　of　the　evening；　and　he　went　at　once　to　see　a