the uncommercial traveller-第42部分

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have　known　half…a…dozen　military　lanterns　to　disperse　themselves　at

all　points　of　a　great　sleeping　Piazza；　each　lantern　summoning　some

official　creature　to　get　up；　put　on　his　cocked…hat　instantly；　and

come　and　stop　the　Bottle。　　It　was　characteristic　that　while　this

innocent　Bottle　had　such　immense　difficulty　in　getting　from　little

town　to　town；　Signor　Mazzini　and　the　fiery　cross　were　traversing

Italy　from　end　to　end。



Still；　I　stuck　to　my　Bottle；　like　any　fine　old　English　gentleman

all　of　the　olden　time。　　The　more　the　Bottle　was　interfered　with；

the　stauncher　I　became　（if　possible）　in　my　first　determination　that

my　countryman　should　have　it　delivered　to　him　intact；　as　the　man

whom　he　had　so　nobly　restored　to　life　and　liberty　had　delivered　it

to　me。　　If　ever　I　had　been　obstinate　in　my　days　…　and　I　may　have

been；　say；　once　or　twice　…　I　was　obstinate　about　the　Bottle。　　But；

I　made　it　a　rule　always　to　keep　a　pocket　full　of　small　coin　at　its

service；　and　never　to　be　out　of　temper　in　its　cause。　　Thus；　I　and

the　Bottle　made　our　way。　　Once　we　had　a　break…down；　rather　a　bad

break…down；　on　a　steep　high　place　with　the　sea　below　us；　on　a

tempestuous　evening　when　it　blew　great　guns。　　We　were　driving　four

wild　horses　abreast；　Southern　fashion；　and　there　was　some　little

difficulty　in　stopping　them。　　I　was　outside；　and　not　thrown　off；

but　no　words　can　describe　my　feelings　when　I　saw　the　Bottle　…

travelling　inside；　as　usual　…　burst　the　door　open；　and　roll　obesely

out　into　the　road。　　A　blessed　Bottle　with　a　charmed　existence；　he

took　no　hurt；　and　we　repaired　damage；　and　went　on　triumphant。



A　thousand　representations　were　made　to　me　that　the　Bottle　must　be

left　at　this　place；　or　that；　and　called　for　again。　　I　never　yielded

to　one　of　them；　and　never　parted　from　the　Bottle；　on　any　pretence；

consideration；　threat；　or　entreaty。　　I　had　no　faith　in　any　official

receipt　for　the　Bottle；　and　nothing　would　induce　me　to　accept　one。

These　unmanageable　politics　at　last　brought　me　and　the　Bottle；

still　triumphant；　to　Genoa。　　There；　I　took　a　tender　and　reluctant

leave　of　him　for　a　few　weeks；　and　consigned　him　to　a　trusty　English

captain；　to　be　conveyed　to　the　Port　of　London　by　sea。



While　the　Bottle　was　on　his　voyage　to　England；　I　read　the　Shipping

Intelligence　as　anxiously　as　if　I　had　been　an　underwriter。　　There

was　some　stormy　weather　after　I　myself　had　got　to　England　by　way　of

Switzerland　and　France；　and　my　mind　greatly　misgave　me　that　the

Bottle　might　be　wrecked。　　At　last　to　my　great　joy；　I　received

notice　of　his　safe　arrival；　and　immediately　went　down　to　Saint

Katharine's　Docks；　and　found　him　in　a　state　of　honourable　captivity

in　the　Custom　House。



The　wine　was　mere　vinegar　when　I　set　it　down　before　the　generous

Englishman　…　probably　it　had　been　something　like　vinegar　when　I

took　it　up　from　Giovanni　Carlavero　…　but　not　a　drop　of　it　was

spilled　or　gone。　　And　the　Englishman　told　me；　with　much　emotion　in

his　face　and　voice；　that　he　had　never　tasted　wine　that　seemed　to

him　so　sweet　and　sound。　　And　long　afterwards；　the　Bottle　graced　his

table。　　And　the　last　time　I　saw　him　in　this　world　that　misses　him；

he　took　me　aside　in　a　crowd；　to　say；　with　his　amiable　smile：　　'We

were　talking　of　you　only　to…day　at　dinner；　and　I　wished　you　had

been　there；　for　I　had　some　Claret　up　in　Carlavero's　Bottle。'







CHAPTER　XVIII　…　THE　CALAIS　NIGHT　MAIL







It　is　an　unsettled　question　with　me　whether　I　shall　leave　Calais

something　handsome　in　my　will；　or　whether　I　shall　leave　it　my

malediction。　　I　hate　it　so　much；　and　yet　I　am　always　so　very　glad

to　see　it；　that　I　am　in　a　state　of　constant　indecision　on　this

subject。　　When　I　first　made　acquaintance　with　Calais；　it　was　as　a

maundering　young　wretch　in　a　clammy　perspiration　and　dripping

saline　particles；　who　was　conscious　of　no　extremities　but　the　one

great　extremity；　sea…sickness　…　who　was　a　mere　bilious　torso；　with

a　mislaid　headache　somewhere　in　its　stomach　…　who　had　been　put　into

a　horrible　swing　in　Dover　Harbour；　and　had　tumbled　giddily　out　of

it　on　the　French　coast；　or　the　Isle　of　Man；　or　anywhere。　　Times

have　changed；　and　now　I　enter　Calais　self…reliant　and　rational。　　I

know　where　it　is　beforehand；　I　keep　a　look　out　for　it；　I　recognise

its　landmarks　when　I　see　any　of　them；　I　am　acquainted　with　its

ways；　and　I　know　…　and　I　can　bear　…　its　worst　behaviour。



Malignant　Calais！　　Low…lying　alligator；　evading　the　eyesight　and

discouraging　hope！　　Dodging　flat　streak；　now　on　this　bow；　now　on

that；　now　anywhere；　now　everywhere；　now　nowhere！　　In　vain　Cape

Grinez；　coming　frankly　forth　into　the　sea；　exhorts　the　failing　to

be　stout　of　heart　and　stomach：　　sneaking　Calais；　prone　behind　its

bar；　invites　emetically　to　despair。　　Even　when　it　can　no　longer

quite　conceal　itself　in　its　muddy　dock；　it　has　an　evil　way　of

falling　off；　has　Calais；　which　is　more　hopeless　than　its

invisibility。　　The　pier　is　all　but　on　the　bowsprit；　and　you　think

you　are　there　…　roll；　roar；　wash！　…　Calais　has　retired　miles

inland；　and　Dover　has　burst　out　to　look　for　it。　　It　has　a　last　dip

and　slide　in　its　character；　has　Calais；　to　be　especially　commanded

to　the　infernal　gods。　　Thrice　accursed　be　that　garrison…town；　when

it　dives　under　the　boat's　keel；　and　comes　up　a　league　or　two　to　the

right；　with　the　packet　shivering　and　spluttering　and　staring　about

for　it！



Not　but　what　I　have　my　animosities　towards　Dover。　　I　particularly

detest　Dover　for　the　self…complacency　with　which　it　goes　to　bed。

It　always　goes　to　bed　（when　I　am　going　to　Calais）　with　a　more

brilliant　display　of　lamp　and　candle　than　any　other　town。　　Mr。　and

Mrs。　Birmingham；　host　and　hostess　of　the　Lord　Warden　Hotel；　are　my

much　esteemed　friends；　but　they　are　too　conceited　about　the

comforts　of　that　establishment　when　the　Night　Mail　is　starting。　　I

know　it　is　a　good　house　to　stay　at；　and　I　don't　want　the　fact

insisted　upon　in　all　its　warm　bright　windows　at　such　an　hour。　　I

know　the　Warden　is　a　stationary　edifice　that　never　rolls　or

pitches；　and　I　object　to　its　big　outline　seeming　to　insist　upon

that　circumstance；　and；　as　it　were；　to　come　over　me　with　it；　when　I

am　reeling　on　the　deck　of　the　boat。　　Beshrew　the　Warden　likewise；

for　obstructing　that　corner；　and　making　the　wind　so　angry　as　it

rushes　round。　　Shall　I　not　know　that　it　blows　quite　soon　enough；

without　the　officious　Warden's　interference？



As　I　wait　here　on　board　the　night　packet；　for　the　South…Eastern

Train　to　come　down　with　the　Mail；　Dover　appears　to　me　to　be

illuminated　for　some　intensely　aggravating　festivity　in　my　personal

dishonour。　　All　its　noises　smack　of　taunting　praises　of　the　land；

and　dispraises　of　the　gloomy　sea；　and　of　me　for　going　on　it。　　The

drums　upon　the　heights　have　gone　to　bed；　or　I　know　they　would

rattle　taunts　against　me　for　having　my　unsteady　footing　on　this

slippery　deck。　　The　many　gas　eyes　of　the　Marine　Parade　twinkle　in

an　offensive　manner；　as　if　with　derision。　　The　distant　dogs　of

Dover　bark　at　me　in　my　misshapen　wrappers；　as　if　I　were　Richard　the

Third。



A　screech；　a　bell；　and　two　red　eyes　come　gliding　down　the　Admiralty

Pier　with　a　smoothness　of　motion　rendered　more　smooth　by　the

heaving　of　the　boat。　　The　sea　makes　noises　against　the　pier；　as　if

several　hippopotami　were　lapping　at　it；　and　were　prevented　by

circumstances　over　which　they　had　no　control　from　drinking

peaceably。　　We；　the　boat；　become　violently　agitated　…　rumble；　hum；

scream；　roar；　and　establish　an　immense　family　washing…day　at　each

paddle…box。　　Bright　patches　break　out　in　the　train　as　the　doors　of

the　post…office　vans　are　opened；　and　instantly　stooping　figures

with　sacks　upon　their　backs　begin　to　be　beheld　among　the　piles；

descending　as　it　would　seem　in　ghostly　procession　to　Davy　Jones's

Locker。　　The　passengers　come　on　board；　a　few　shadowy　Frenchmen；

with　hatboxes　shaped　like　the　stoppers　of　gigantic　case…bottles；　a

few　shadowy　Germans　in　immense　fur　coats　and　boots；　a　few　shadowy

Englishmen　prepared　for　the　worst　and　pretending　not　to　expect　it。

I　cannot　disguise　from　my　uncommercial　mind　the　miserable　fact　that

we　are　a　body　of　outcasts；　that　the　attendants　on　us　are　as　scant

in　number　as　may　serve　to　get　rid　of　us　with　the　least　possible

delay；　that　there　are　no　night…loungers　interested　in　us；　that　the

unwilling　lamps　shiver　and　shudder　at　us；　that　the　sole　object　is

to　commit　us　to　the　deep　and　abandon　us。　　Lo；　the　two　red　eyes

glaring　in　increasing　distance；　and　then　the　very　train　itself　has

gone　to　bed　before　we　are　off！



What　is　the　moral　support　derived　by　some　sea…going　amateurs　from

an　umbrella？　　Why　do　certain　voyagers　across　the　Channel　always　put

up　that　article；　and　hold　it　up　with　a　grim　and　fierce　tenacity？　　A

fellow…creature　near　me　…　whom　I　only　know　to　BE　a　fellow…creature；

because　of　his　umbrella：　　without　which　he　might　be　a　dark　bit　of

cliff；　pier；　or　bulkbead　…　clutches　that　instrument　with　a

desperate　grasp；　that　will　not　relax　until　he　lands　at　Calais。　　Is

there　any　analogy；　in　certain　constitutions；　between　keeping　an

umbrella　up；　and　keeping　the　spirits　up？　　A　hawser　thrown　on　board

with　a　flop　replies　'Stand　by！'　　'Stand　by；　below！'　　'Half　a　turn　a

head！'　　'Half　a　turn　a　head！'　　'Half　speed！'　　'Half　speed！'

'Port！'　　'Port！'　　'Steady！'　　'Steady！'　　'Go　on！'　　'Go　on！'



A　stout　wooden　wedge　driven　in　at　my　right　temple　and　out　at　my

left；　a　floating　deposit　of　lukewarm　oil　in　my　throat；　and　a

compression　of　the　bridge　of　my　nose　in　a　blunt　pair　of　pincers；　…

these　are　the　personal　sensations　by　which　I　know　we　are　off；　and

by　which　I　shall　continue　to　know　it　until　I　am　on　the　soil　of

France。　　My　symptoms　have　scarcely　established　themselves

comfortably；　when　two　or　three　skating　shadows　that　have　been

trying　to　walk　or　stand；　get　flung　together；　and　other　two　or　three

shadows　in　tarpaulin　slide　with　them　into　corners　and　cover　them

up。　　Then　the　South　F