Человек, который смеется / The Man Who Laughs. Уровень 4

He advanced in the direction whence came the snarl. He turned the corner of a wall, and he saw a shelter. It was a cart, unless it was a hovel. It had wheels – it was a carriage. It had a roof – it was a dwelling. From the roof arose a funnel, and out of the funnel smoke. This smoke was red. He approached.

The growl became furious. It was no longer a growl; it was a roar. He heard a sharp sound. At the same time a head was put through the window.

“Peace there!” said the head.

The mouth was silent. The head began again, -

“Is anyone there?”

The child answered, -

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“I.”

“You? Who are you? whence do you come?”

“I am weary,” said the child.

“What time is it?”

“I am cold.”

“What are you doing there?”

“I am hungry.”

The head replied, -

“Everyone cannot be as happy as a lord. Go away.”

The head was withdrawn and the window closed.

The child bowed his forehead, drew the sleeping infant closer in his arms, and collected his strength to resume his journey. He had taken a few steps.

However, at the same time that the window closed the door had opened. The voice which had spoken to the child cried out angrily from the inside of the van, -

“Well! why do you not enter?”

The child turned back.

“Come in,” resumed the voice. “Who has sent me a fellow like this, who is hungry and cold, and who does not come in?”

The child remained motionless.

The voice continued, -

“Come in, you young rascal.”

He placed one foot on the lowest step. There was a great growl under the van. He drew back. The gaping jaws appeared.

“Peace!” cried the voice of the man.

The jaws retreated, the growling ceased.

“Come up!” continued the man.

The child with difficulty climbed up the three steps. He passed over the three steps; and having reached the threshold, stopped.

No candle was burning in the caravan. The hut was lighted only by a red tinge, arising from the stove, in which sparkled a peat fire. On the stove were smoking a porringer and a saucepan, containing something to eat. The savoury odour was perceptible. The hut was furnished with a chest, a stool, and an unlighted lantern which hung from the ceiling. On the boards and nails were rows of glasses, coppers, an alembic, a vessel, and a confusion of strange objects of which the child understood nothing, and which were utensils for cooking and chemistry. The caravan was oblong in shape. It was not even a little room; it was scarcely a big box. Everything in the caravan was indistinct and misty. Nevertheless, a reflection of the fire on the ceiling enabled the spectator to read in large letters, – Ursus, Philosopher.

The child, in fact, was entering the house of Homo and Ursus. The one was growling, the other speaking.

“Come in!” said the man, who was Ursus.

The child entered.

“Put down your bundle.”

The child placed his burden carefully on the top of the chest. The man continued, -

“How gently you put it down! Worthless vagabond! In the streets at this hour! Who are you? Answer! But no. I forbid you to answer. There! You are cold. Warm yourself as quick as you can,” and he shoved him by the shoulders in front of the fire.

“How wet you are! You’re frozen through! A nice state to come into a house! Come, take off those rags, you villain! Here are clothes.”

He chose out of a heap a woollen rag, and chafed before the fire the limbs of the exhausted and bewildered child. The man wiped the boy’s feet.

“Come, you rascal. Dress yourself!”

The child put on the shirt, and the man slipped the knitted jacket over it.

“Now…”

The man kicked the stool forward. Then he pointed with his finger to the porringer which was smoking upon the stove. The child saw a potato and a bit of bacon.

“You are hungry; eat!”

The man took from the shelf a crust of hard bread and an iron fork, and handed them to the child.

The boy hesitated.

“Perhaps you expect me to lay the cloth,” said the man, and he placed the porringer on the child’s lap.

Hunger overcame astonishment. The child began to eat. The poor boy devoured rather than ate. The man grumbled, -

“Not so quick, you horrid glutton! Isn’t he a greedy scoundrel? In my time I have seen dukes eat. They don’t eat; that’s noble. They drink, however. Come, you pig!”