three ghost stories-第1部分

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Three　Ghost　Stories



by　Charles　Dickens










Contents：



The　Signal…Man

The　Haunted…House

The　Trial　For　Murder









THE　SIGNAL…MAN









〃Halloa！　　Below　there！〃



When　he　heard　a　voice　thus　calling　to　him；　he　was　standing　at　the

door　of　his　box；　with　a　flag　in　his　hand；　furled　round　its　short

pole。　　One　would　have　thought；　considering　the　nature　of　the　ground；

that　he　could　not　have　doubted　from　what　quarter　the　voice　came；　but

instead　of　looking　up　to　where　I　stood　on　the　top　of　the　steep

cutting　nearly　over　his　head；　he　turned　himself　about；　and　looked

down　the　Line。　　There　was　something　remarkable　in　his　manner　of

doing　so；　though　I　could　not　have　said　for　my　life　what。　　But　I　know

it　was　remarkable　enough　to　attract　my　notice；　even　though　his

figure　was　foreshortened　and　shadowed；　down　in　the　deep　trench；　and

mine　was　high　above　him；　so　steeped　in　the　glow　of　an　angry　sunset；

that　I　had　shaded　my　eyes　with　my　hand　before　I　saw　him　at　all。



〃Halloa！　　Below！〃



From　looking　down　the　Line；　he　turned　himself　about　again；　and；

raising　his　eyes；　saw　my　figure　high　above　him。



〃Is　there　any　path　by　which　I　can　come　down　and　speak　to　you？〃



He　looked　up　at　me　without　replying；　and　I　looked　down　at　him

without　pressing　him　too　soon　with　a　repetition　of　my　idle　question。

Just　then　there　came　a　vague　vibration　in　the　earth　and　air；　quickly

changing　into　a　violent　pulsation；　and　an　oncoming　rush　that　caused

me　to　start　back；　as　though　it　had　force　to　draw　me　down。　　When　such

vapour　as　rose　to　my　height　from　this　rapid　train　had　passed　me；　and

was　skimming　away　over　the　landscape；　I　looked　down　again；　and　saw

him　refurling　the　flag　he　had　shown　while　the　train　went　by。



I　repeated　my　inquiry。　　After　a　pause；　during　which　he　seemed　to

regard　me　with　fixed　attention；　he　motioned　with　his　rolled…up　flag

towards　a　point　on　my　level；　some　two　or　three　hundred　yards

distant。　　I　called　down　to　him；　〃All　right！〃　and　made　for　that

point。　　There；　by　dint　of　looking　closely　about　me；　I　found　a　rough

zigzag　descending　path　notched　out；　which　I　followed。



The　cutting　was　extremely　deep；　and　unusually　precipitate。　　It　was

made　through　a　clammy　stone；　that　became　oozier　and　wetter　as　I　went

down。　　For　these　reasons；　I　found　the　way　long　enough　to　give　me

time　to　recall　a　singular　air　of　reluctance　or　compulsion　with　which

he　had　pointed　out　the　path。



When　I　came　down　low　enough　upon　the　zigzag　descent　to　see　him

again；　I　saw　that　he　was　standing　between　the　rails　on　the　way　by

which　the　train　had　lately　passed；　in　an　attitude　as　if　he　were

waiting　for　me　to　appear。　　He　had　his　left　hand　at　his　chin；　and

that　left　elbow　rested　on　his　right　hand；　crossed　over　his　breast。

His　attitude　was　one　of　such　expectation　and　watchfulness　that　I

stopped　a　moment；　wondering　at　it。



I　resumed　my　downward　way；　and　stepping　out　upon　the　level　of　the

railroad；　and　drawing　nearer　to　him；　saw　that　he　was　a　dark　sallow

man；　with　a　dark　beard　and　rather　heavy　eyebrows。　　His　post　was　in

as　solitary　and　dismal　a　place　as　ever　I　saw。　　On　either　side；　a

dripping…wet　wall　of　jagged　stone；　excluding　all　view　but　a　strip　of

sky；　the　perspective　one　way　only　a　crooked　prolongation　of　this

great　dungeon；　the　shorter　perspective　in　the　other　direction

terminating　in　a　gloomy　red　light；　and　the　gloomier　entrance　to　a

black　tunnel；　in　whose　massive　architecture　there　was　a　barbarous；

depressing；　and　forbidding　air。　　So　little　sunlight　ever　found　its

way　to　this　spot；　that　it　had　an　earthy；　deadly　smell；　and　so　much

cold　wind　rushed　through　it；　that　it　struck　chill　to　me；　as　if　I　had

left　the　natural　world。



Before　he　stirred；　I　was　near　enough　to　him　to　have　touched　him。

Not　even　then　removing　his　eyes　from　mine；　he　stepped　back　one　step；

and　lifted　his　hand。



This　was　a　lonesome　post　to　occupy　（I　said）；　and　it　had　riveted　my

attention　when　I　looked　down　from　up　yonder。　　A　visitor　was　a

rarity；　I　should　suppose；　not　an　unwelcome　rarity；　I　hoped？　　In　me；

he　merely　saw　a　man　who　had　been　shut　up　within　narrow　limits　all

his　life；　and　who；　being　at　last　set　free；　had　a　newly…awakened

interest　in　these　great　works。　　To　such　purpose　I　spoke　to　him；　but

I　am　far　from　sure　of　the　terms　I　used；　for；　besides　that　I　am　not

happy　in　opening　any　conversation；　there　was　something　in　the　man

that　daunted　me。



He　directed　a　most　curious　look　towards　the　red　light　near　the

tunnel's　mouth；　and　looked　all　about　it；　as　if　something　were

missing　from　it；　and　then　looked　it　me。



That　light　was　part　of　his　charge？　　Was　it　not？



He　answered　in　a　low　voice；〃Don't　you　know　it　is？〃



The　monstrous　thought　came　into　my　mind；　as　I　perused　the　fixed　eyes

and　the　saturnine　face；　that　this　was　a　spirit；　not　a　man。　　I　have

speculated　since；　whether　there　may　have　been　infection　in　his　mind。



In　my　turn；　I　stepped　back。　　But　in　making　the　action；　I　detected　in

his　eyes　some　latent　fear　of　me。　　This　put　the　monstrous　thought　to

flight。



〃You　look　at　me；〃　I　said；　forcing　a　smile；　〃as　if　you　had　a　dread　of

me。〃



〃I　was　doubtful；〃　he　returned；　〃whether　I　had　seen　you　before。〃



〃Where？〃



He　pointed　to　the　red　light　he　had　looked　at。



〃There？〃　I　said。



Intently　watchful　of　me；　he　replied　（but　without　sound）；　〃Yes。〃



〃My　good　fellow；　what　should　I　do　there？　　However；　be　that　as　it

may；　I　never　was　there；　you　may　swear。〃



〃I　think　I　may；〃　he　rejoined。　　〃Yes；　I　am　sure　I　may。〃



His　manner　cleared；　like　my　own。　　He　replied　to　my　remarks　with

readiness；　and　in　well…chosen　words。　　Had　he　much　to　do　there？　　Yes；

that　was　to　say；　he　had　enough　responsibility　to　bear；　but　exactness

and　watchfulness　were　what　was　required　of　him；　and　of　actual　work

manual　labourhe　had　next　to　none。　　To　change　that　signal；　to　trim

those　lights；　and　to　turn　this　iron　handle　now　and　then；　was　all　he

had　to　do　under　that　head。　　Regarding　those　many　long　and　lonely

hours　of　which　I　seemed　to　make　so　much；　he　could　only　say　that　the

routine　of　his　life　had　shaped　itself　into　that　form；　and　he　had

grown　used　to　it。　　He　had　taught　himself　a　language　down　here；if

only　to　know　it　by　sight；　and　to　have　formed　his　own　crude　ideas　of

its　pronunciation；　could　be　called　learning　it。　　He　had　also　worked

at　fractions　and　decimals；　and　tried　a　little　algebra；　but　he　was；

and　had　been　as　a　boy；　a　poor　hand　at　figures。　　Was　it　necessary　for

him　when　on　duty　always　to　remain　in　that　channel　of　damp　air；　and

could　he　never　rise　into　the　sunshine　from　between　those　high　stone

walls？　　Why；　that　depended　upon　times　and　circumstances。　　Under　some

conditions　there　would　be　less　upon　the　Line　than　under　others；　and

the　same　held　good　as　to　certain　hours　of　the　day　and　night。　　In

bright　weather；　he　did　choose　occasions　for　getting　a　little　above

these　lower　shadows；　but；　being　at　all　times　liable　to　be　called　by

his　electric　bell；　and　at　such　times　listening　for　it　with　redoubled

anxiety；　the　relief　was　less　than　I　would　suppose。



He　took　me　into　his　box；　where　there　was　a　fire；　a　desk　for　an

official　book　in　which　he　had　to　make　certain　entries；　a　telegraphic

instrument　with　its　dial；　face；　and　needles；　and　the　little　bell　of

which　he　had　spoken。　　On　my　trusting　that　he　would　excuse　the　remark

that　he　had　been　well　educated；　and　（I　hoped　I　might　say　without

offence）　perhaps　educated　above　that　station；　he　observed　that

instances　of　slight　incongruity　in　such　wise　would　rarely　be　found

wanting　among　large　bodies　of　men；　that　he　had　heard　it　was　so　in

workhouses；　in　the　police　force；　even　in　that　last　desperate

resource；　the　army；　and　that　he　knew　it　was　so；　more　or　less；　in　any

great　railway　staff。　　He　had　been；　when　young　（if　I　could　believe

it；　sitting　in　that　hut；he　scarcely　could）；　a　student　of　natural

philosophy；　and　had　attended　lectures；　but　he　had　run　wild；　misused

his　opportunities；　gone　down；　and　never　risen　again。　　He　had　no

complaint　to　offer　about　that。　　He　had　made　his　bed；　and　he　lay　upon

it。　　It　was　far　too　late　to　make　another。



All　that　I　have　here　condensed　he　said　in　a　quiet　manner；　with　his

grave　dark　regards　divided　between　me　and　the　fire。　　He　threw　in　the

word；　〃Sir；〃　from　time　to　time；　and　especially　when　he　referred　to

his　youth；as　though　to　request　me　to　understand　that　he　claimed　to

be　nothing　but　what　I　found　him。　　He　was　several　times　interrupted

by　the　little　bell；　and　had　to　read　off　messages；　and　send　replies。

Once　he　had　to　stand　without　the　door；　and　display　a　flag　as　a　train

passed；　and　make　some　verbal　communication　to　the　driver。　　In　the

discharge　of　his　duties；　I　observed　him　to　be　remarkably　exact　and

vigilant；　breaking　off　his　discourse　at　a　syllable；　and　remaining

silent　until　what　he　had　to　do　was　done。



In　a　word；　I　should　have　set　this　man　down　as　one　of　the　safest　of

men　to　be　employed　in　that　capacity；　but　for　the　circumstance　that

while　he　was　speaking　to　me　he　twice　broke　off　with　a　fallen　colour；

turned　his　face　towards　the　little　bell　when　it　did　NOT　ring；　opened

the　door　of　the　hut　（which　was　kept　shut　to　exclude　the　unhealthy

damp）；　and　looked　out　towards　the　red　light　near　the　mouth　of　the

tunnel。　　On　both　of　those　occasions；　he　came　back　to　the　fire　with

the　inexplicable　air　upon　him　which　I　had　remarked；　without　being

able　to　define；　when　we　were　so　far　asunder。



Said　I；　when　I　rose　to　leave　him；　〃You　almost　make　me　think　that　I

have　met　with　a　contented　man。〃



（I　am　afraid　I　must　acknowledge　that　I　said　it　to　lead　him　on。）



〃I　believe　I　used　to　be　so；〃　he　rejoined；　in　the　low　voice　in　which

he　had　first　spoken；　〃but　I　am　troubled；　sir；　I　am　troubled。〃



He　would　have　recalled　the　words　if　he　could。　　He　had　said　them；

however；　and　I　took　them　up　quickly。



〃With　what？　　What　is　your　trouble？〃



〃It　is　very　difficult